Eternally Bound

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Tatiana lay on a bed that was soft, enveloping. The smoothness of crimson colored silk brushed against her skin. The mattress was stuffed with the softest of feathers. A sigh left her parted lips as her gaze drifted around her. The room was clean, yet barren. The count hadn’t lived in it long. The poster bed was large and stood in the center of the room, dominating it. A fur rug lined the stone floor. A chair sat in the corner. The dark-cushioned depths appeared very comfortable.

  Tatiana was alone, and she didn’t want to be. Marcello had been touching her, and she wanted him to come back. Suddenly, she felt the bed shift even though she hadn’t moved. She smiled and turned her head to the side.

  A pale hand reached for her, smoothly lifting to caress her cheek. A ruby glistened from the ring on his finger. The weight of her tangled, damp hair was lifted from her neck and lips. Tatiana shivered in anticipation.

  Marcello wore only a black silk robe. She saw his naked, pale chest underneath. She looked at him, unashamed by her interest in seeing him. She liked that he watched her looking at him. Her breathing deepened and she let him see her desire.

  “You beckoned me to you, bella mia?” he whispered.

  Marcello’s hand roamed down her neck. Her skin was sensitive to him, feeling and reaching for him. Every whispering caress shot her with desire until she was hot and ready for his claiming. His hand continued down, parting the seam in the silken front of her robe. He smiled a truly wicked smile as his nails grazed the valley between her breasts.

  Tatiana held still, urging him on. His gaze followed the movements of his hand. Slowly, he pulled a breast free. Already the nipple was hard, waiting for him. He brushed it lightly. Tatiana moaned in delight, wanting him to hear what he did to her. She didn’t close her eyes, liking the pleasure on his face as he touched her.

  Marcello lowered to give her a gentle kiss. His damp hair tickled her skin. His mouth was warm as was his hand. Tatiana knew that he’d recently fed. It didn’t repulse her as it should have. Her mouth opened to his, allowing him inside. She didn’t stop to think. Didn’t know how she knew what to do. She moved by instinct, on the primal knowledge passed down to her from her mother’s people. She wasn’t afraid of passion. She embraced it. It was natural. It fed and nourished her body and her powers until she didn’t need food or air to survive.

  Marcello’s tongue massaged along hers, sucking her gently into his mouth. Tatiana’s tongue ran along his fangs, liking the danger they presented. She couldn’t stop moaning as she panted for breath. Her fingers did not move to touch his delectable body. This was her game. He was the slave, her slave.

  Marcello’s hand moved to her waist, pulling at the belt that hid her body from him. His fingers moved over her hips as if fascinated by the feel of her. He touched her thighs, her knees, before answering the call of her center heat. She was moist, passionate and ready.

  Tatiana’s hips jerked against his hand, wanting him to test her depths. Her lips pulled away so she could cry out. No man had ever touched her there, and she suddenly felt deprived. She wondered what had been wrong with her to never seek a man’s touch.

  “Stand for me, Marcello,” she ordered her slave. Marcello groaned in protest, having no choice but to obey. Tatiana pushed up on her elbows, letting the robe stay open to reveal her nakedness to him. Marcello walked to the end of the bed, standing dutifully before her. She looked him over with interest, licking her lips as if she were about to devour him. “Undress for me, Marcello.”

  Marcello pulled at his belt, shameless and immodest. His black robe parted and he let it slide down. He had a thick neck that molded well into his shoulders. His upper body was very strong, excitingly so. His arms moved gracefully beneath the burden of their muscles. His stomach was flat, muscular, smooth. Tatiana’s green eyes strayed to the thick member jutting from between his hips in a soft bed of hair.

  “Turn for me,” she ordered quietly, enjoying her first real peek of the male form. Marcello obeyed, turning around slowly so she could see all of him. The edge of the bed hid his legs from view, but she saw his powerful thighs, moving up to a very firm backside, to a back that rippled with as many muscles as his chest. Being a vampire, he was in perfect shape, without a measure of fat to mar his delectable frame.

  When he came full circle, his eyes pierced her from their fiery depths. Tatiana knew that he wasn’t used to being commanded in such a way. This was a man who wasn’t accustomed to following orders, especially from a human woman.

  “You may come to me, Marcello,” she said to him, smiling a catlike smile. She didn’t move as he crawled up on the bed, moving over her on all fours. His eyes only darkened as he drew near, becoming almost black.

  In a moment of clarity, he demanded, “Release me, witch.”

  Tatiana grinned, having no such intention. Pursing her lips, she looked over his fine features. Just looking at him made the ache he’d stirred in her body worse. She laid back. Her hair spilled around her head. Lifting a finger, she delicately traced a line from his neck, along his collarbone and down the middle of his chest. Marcello groaned. His eyes closed.

  “Obey me,” Tatiana ordered quietly, daring him to try to fight her. Her hands lifted to his shoulders, feeling his texture, his warmed skin. He didn’t breathe, holding still like a statue. She explored his body, flicked his nipple, giggled as she watched him jerk in pleasure.

  Caressing down his stomach, she walked her fingers in a torturous trail down to his erection. His whole body stiffened as she ran her hand onto him. Tatiana gasped. It was harder, smoother than she expected. She bit her lip, and her composure wavered slightly.

  Her hold slipped just enough so that Marcello could bring himself forward. His lips met hers. His hair streamed alongside hers on the pillow, the dark brown mingling with her vixen’s black. This time, when he kissed her, he wasn’t so gentle. He poured his desire into her. His fangs nicked her lips, and he tasted the flavor of her blood.

  Tatiana moaned. Her fingers left his arousal to grab his face and hold him to her. His body covered hers, rubbing pleasurably along her softness, as his legs expertly threaded between her thighs to part them.

  Marcello kissed her long and hard, exploring her mouth as he stole her breath. When her lungs felt as if they would explode, Tatiana tore away, gasping for breath. His knees pushed forward, opening her wide for him. His hands braced his weight as his mouth went to a breast and began sucking.

  His teeth grazed her, his mouth working in desperation. He wanted to bite her. She felt his jaw straining as she denied him the impulse. Her power over him kept him restrained. So, instead, he kissed the nipple roughly.

  Marcello growled. His erection dipped close to her wet heat. He felt it against him, calling him into her ready body. He pushed into her. Tatiana screamed out in surprise at the rough entry. Her mind faded away from the moment. She blinked and the pain of that time was gone. But, the past wasn’t done with her. Marcello wasn’t done with her.

  As he withdrew himself, she opened her eyes. They were on the chair before the fireplace. She sat astride him, riding him hard. She impaled herself onto his thick shaft until he stretched her insides past the brink of what should have been possible. He fit fully inside her, so deep she was sure it wasn’t possible. She was sore, but the pleasure of it outweighed everything else.

  As she rose to thrust again, her memory flashed, and Marcello entered her from behind on the fur rug before the fireplace. His strong hands grasped her hips and pulled as he slammed her mindlessly back into him. Loud grunts of approval came out of him in animalistic noises until she realized that she too howled like a beast.

  Marcello took her in endless positions all over the room, including once on the stairwell and once in his spacious coffin. With each thrust of his tight body, she remembered each and every time they’d come together, on the ceiling, the floor, the bed, against the wall, the window. He rode her from behind, from above, twisting her body in positions she’d never have thought of in a million year
s. The aching in her hips grew, demanding fulfillment. She didn’t want it to stop, she wanted more, was so hungry for him.

  Tatiana knew she’d made him come to her. She’d think of him, and he would be beckoned to her, dropping everything to be at her side. Each time he tried to resist, and each time she commanded him to their pleasure. Her powers fed off him, growing strong, needing his body’s sexual energy to root itself inside her. It had been dormant for so long, and it caused her to drink greedily of his passions, milking his body’s orgasm again and again. And when the impossible happened, when his male shaft could take no more, needing to recover, she’d take him in her mouth, sucking on him until he grew rigid. She would then command his lips and fingers between her thighs so that his mouth could bring her to pleasure. She’d spent four nights like that, letting him rest during the daylight hours, while she took hers.

  Without warning, the thrusting of their bodies slowed. They were once again on the bed. She felt him inside her, as he rocked his hips into her. A wicked longing came to her then, and she wanted to let him drink from her. She saw the bloodlust in him when he looked at her when he thrust himself into her body.

  Marcello was up on his hands, working his thick member in the deep little circles he’d discovered would make her scream in delight. She felt the passion building again. Her mouth opened with a pant.

  “Marcello,” she called. His dark, piercing gaze met her controlling green one. Weakly, she commanded him, “Drink from me, ah, please. I bit you to drink. Taste me. I want to feel what it’s like.”

  Marcello’s body tensed at the words. His eyes turned a bloody red almost instantly. His hips didn’t stop as he struck out at her. He bared his teeth, opening his mouth wide. The beast within him had been tempted and tormented by her for many nights. Now, with her words, it wouldn’t be stopped. His teeth sank into her neck.

  Tatiana gasped in surprise at the feel of it. She felt them connecting. His bite stung but didn’t hurt much.

  Marcello drank deeply. Her blood was like nothing he’d ever tasted before. He detected the strong ancient power of her bloodline, which had been lying dormant within her witch’s clan for so long. The story of her past was in her blood, a lineage of her ancestry. She was powerful, but he already knew that. She’d have to be powerful to be able to control an old vampire. The more he drank, the weaker her hold on him became, until he could break free of it altogether.

  Marcello tensed, stopping in his easy thrusting. His mouth tore from her as he glared down at her. Tatiana’s hands were weak at her sides. A crimson trail ran over her pale flesh from the puncturing wound. Her eyes opened, the lashes fluttering lazily. He saw the dazed confusion in the depths.

  Marcello’s nostrils flared in anger. She’d dared to keep him a prisoner? She dared to command him? Make him a slave?

  His member was still hard, embedded deeply. He’d met a glorious release in her depths many times, but it had not been under his control to do so. She’d not been under his control, and the idea of it drove him mad. He was a vampire. He liked his sex raw, touched with a little pain. Pleasure and pain were so closely drawn for his kind and the beast in him wanted its turn.

  With a demonic growl, he took over their lovemaking, turning it into something more primal and aggressive. His hips thrust anew, only, this time, he was wild as he pounded himself into her.

  Tatiana gasped at his rough claiming, but her body was used to his size after the countless hours he’d spent inside her, and he didn’t hurt her. She quickly learned his new rhythm, opening herself to him as she met the fierce thrust of his hips.

  Her body jerked each time he came into it. His force pushed her up on the bed until her head struck against the solid oak headboard. Marcello didn’t stop. Tatiana screamed as a violent release racked her body, and her muscles spasmed and clenched tightly around him. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. The combination of blood loss and intense pleasure left her weak. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t feel her limbs.

  Marcello grunted in agony and pleasure as he came inside her body, heavily releasing himself. He felt her strength inside of him, stolen from her body. Angrily, he whipped out of her, lurching back off the bed to land on his feet.

  Tatiana could only blink as she watched him. His pupils turned black as he stared at her naked, motionless body. She saw his rigid form, his fists clenching and unclenching as if he would strike her. When he opened his mouth, only a roar of rage came out. He screamed violently, causing her to tremble. She pulled her legs up to her chest, but couldn’t sit. Her body still sang with gratification and reason was slow to return.

  When the roaring stopped, Tatiana felt herself coming out of the daze that she’d spent the last several days in. In shock over what she’d done with him, she’d screamed a high-pitched, bloodcurdling sound. Marcello’s demon eyes bore into her.

  She was confused, bewildered, as she looked at his naked body, then hers. Could they have come together? Did she just…? Tatiana gulped. Her limbs still remembered the feel of him. Her lips still carried the wicked taste of him. Her skin smelled of him.

  Tatiana was propelled into action. She grabbed a silk coverlet and hid from view. Her hair was a wild, unruly mess over her shoulders, matching the untamed look of the vampire. She saw his fangs, the blood staining his chin, her blood.

  Tatiana reached for her neck. It was sore. She screamed again when she saw her bloody fingers.

  “Silence,” Marcello ordered, slashing his hand through the air. He’d wanted her, but that wasn’t the point. She’d tried to take his will from him. She had the impudence to command him, make him clean up her brother’s mess. He thought with disgust how she’d directed him to dig a grave and bury the body. For that, she would pay, dearly.

  Tatiana instantly snapped her mouth shut and didn’t move. Her wide eyes looked at him. He was still naked and didn’t seem to notice.

  “Porca miseria! Mi fa specie di te,” he growled at her. “Baldracca!”

  Tatiana trembled. Her lips quaked, as she said weakly, “I don’t understand.”

  “I can’t believe you did this to me,” he clarified. “You dare to try to control me, you whore!”

  With each word, his voice grew louder until he howled viciously at her. Tatiana jerked, huddling back on the bed. How could she have let him inside her? How could she have demanded he come to her, again and again? She grew nauseous. He was right. She was a whore. Whatever had come over her? It had been a spell, black magic. That was the only logical explanation for it.

  “Please,” Tatiana begged. Tears flooded her eyes. “I want to go home, now. Please, give me my clothes and let me go.”

  “You will go home, baldracca,” he stated darkly. “And I will take you there as you are.”

  “No, please, my lord,” she begged. Tatiana thought of how low she’d become. She couldn’t let this count drag her back. The lingering effects of her ancestry stirred within her but were tempered back. It was the witch in her that prompted her to act with such wanton longing. It was the woman in her that now revolted against it. She hated the part of her mother’s people that grew inside her. She knew she’d never again allow it to surface. She wished her voice was stronger, as she said, “Please, I will go alone. I can walk. I know the way.”

  “No,” he said. His body was still tight, and he hadn’t moved, except to blink. “I will teach you the folly of trying to control me, baldracca—”

  “Quit calling me a whore,” she yelled. “Just stop!”

  Marcello darted forward. He grabbed her by her neck and squeezed. Tatiana cried out in terror to see the blurring speed with which he moved. His grip tightened, and it became difficult for her to breathe.

  “I am going to tell everyone what you’ve done. I will expose Henry for a murderer,” Marcello whispered in deadly passion. His accent became thicker as he spoke. “Your family will be ruined, bella mia. You will be ruined. You will be a battona, a prostitute.”

  “You can’t,” Tatian
a pleaded. His hand was still on her throat, but it had loosened to a firm grip. Even now, she felt her body responding to him. She hated him for it. She hated herself.

  “Look into my eyes, bella, and tell me you don’t see the demon I am.” Marcello’s laugh was cruel and taunting. “You mesmerized the wrong vampire.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” she whispered truthfully. “I didn’t...”

  Marcello’s dark eyes drifted down to her lips as she spoke. No emotions showed on his handsome features. He studied her for a long moment.

  “Please,” Tatiana whispered, disconcerted by his intense expression. “I swear I didn’t mean to do it. I don’t know what happened. I’ve never had...I’ve not...been like that. Please, my lord, let me make it up to you. What must I do to earn your silence? I’ll do anything.”

  As soon as the word “anything” was out of her mouth, Tatiana wished she could take it back. Marcello smiled at her, a dark and twisted expression full of malice.

  “Bind yourself to me, bella mia,” he whispered. “Make yourself my slave.”

  “I can’t…”

  “Shh,” he ordered softly. Marcello’s hand tightened on her neck to keep her from protesting. “You’re a natural witch. If you say you are mine it will be so. You will not be able to recant your word. Bind yourself to me, and I promise you my silence.”

  Tatiana sensed a trap. But as she looked into his eyes, she knew she had no other choice. It was either him or seeing her whole family in ruin. Her head spun at the very notion.

  “What is your answer?” Marcello asked coldly.

  “I’ll do it if you meet my conditions.” Tatiana drew her eyes away from him, but she couldn’t look away long.

  “Name them,” he said. She saw that he was ready to deny her. He held all the power here, and he knew it.