***
As Mary tentatively entered the bedroom, Marcus didn’t even give her a chance to approach the bed. He was on her. Her blood tasted wonderful. He felt her fear. He wanted it. After feeding, he had her clothes off in minutes. They were on the bed and the sex was hot to the point of being violent.
She didn’t like feeding him but loved the sex. She couldn’t get enough of the feel of Marcus inside her. As always, her fear disappeared once her legs were wrapped around his waist. She relaxed and responded to his desperation. How strange, yes he was usually attentive, ensuring she received pleasure, yet always remained aloof, somehow apart from her. This time was different. It felt as if he were using her for more than blood and sex. It was as if he actually needed her. When they were finished, Mary wasn’t sure what had happened, only prayed she got a repeat performance... soon.
Marcus rolled on to his side and watched Mary slide off the high pedestal bed. Two feet hit the floor. By the time she reached the door, she was on four, her tail wagging high in the air. God, he would never understand females, two legs or four.
He flopped back onto the bed and rested his forearm over his eyes. Damn, he’d lost it. Gods help him if Mary realized he had imagined her brown hair was someone else’s. It wasn’t until Mary gazed into his eyes he admitted to himself that he wanted to see Amy’s striking blue, not a brown gaze looking back at him. Damn, killing Amy Cox would’ve made life so much simpler.
Fang Chronicles: Amy's Story Page 11
