Losing Myself in You (10 page)

"Marriage?" she asked him once they were safely in her room and the door was closed behind them. Marcus would surely be able to smell - or hear, no less - if someone were to come try and eavesdrop on their conversation. "I heard Queen thrown out there, but I didn't expect marriage to be part of the equation."

"You can't be Queen unless you are married to me," Marcus said, his hazel eyes locked into her icy ones.  He seemed to be searching for something, but she didn’t know what that was. "It goes hand in hand."

"Yeah, well I didn't know that," Bridgette snapped, crossing her arms over her chest and glancing out the window. She looked back over at him for a moment, studying him before stating, "I don't want to marry you."

"I never asked you to marry me," Marcus said, suddenly defensive. His brow was pushed down, nearly overlapping with his eyes, but Bridgette wasn't intimidated by him whatsoever.

"Obviously you did because you gave me this stupid mark on my neck," Bridgette said, thrusting her finger up so it pointed at her throat. "It's not like we knew each other before then. It's not like we had any sort of conversation that told you that I was okay with this thing."

"Don't you think I know that?" Marcus growled, mimicking her expression. "Trust me; the whole thing happened because of instinct. If I actually knew who you were as a person, I would never have actually considered leaving my mark on you."

"And what is
that
supposed to mean?" Bridgette questioned, throwing her arms out in anger.  She saw his eyes lock in on her jaw as she clenched it.

"You know exactly what it means," Marcus told her as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're stubborn and you're rude, you don't care about anyone but yourself, you're opinionated and you're closed-minded, and you're selfish."

Bridgette's mouth dropped open and her eyes stung, though tears had yet to form. Nobody had ever spoken to her in such a demeaning way. "Yeah?" she retorted, her tone sharp. She hoped that her voice didn't quiver as she continued. "Well you're no picnic either. You're loud and obnoxious, inconsiderate, and no matter what, you think you're right. You take what you want from people without asking questions, without taking into consideration what
they
want. You think
I'm
selfish? You wrote the book, buddy. You're a piece of work."

For a moment, the two merely glared at each other, their breathing slightly hitched due to the fact that their words were rushed so that their mouths would be able to keep pace with their mind. Then, without any sort of warning whatsoever, Marcus grabbed Bridgette's face roughly into his palms and pressed his lips against hers, demanding her attention.

Though Bridgette would never admit it, she welcomed his advances and responded to them just as hungrily as he was.

His tongue pushed between her lips in order to taste every inch of her mouth. His need for her had started to grow ever since he bit into her flesh, and he wanted more. She was right; he couldn't control himself when he was around her, but at the moment, it didn't seem to matter.

Her hands were gripping his thick hair, her arms wrapped around his neck as tightly as they possibly could be. Her back was arched up, her breasts pressing against his hard chest.

God, he needed her.

She broke apart from him, only to catch her breath.

It suddenly dawned on her that he had kissed her while she was mad at him. This seemed to piss her off even more because for that moment when her lips were connected with his, she completely forgot everything around her and all that was in her mind. Mad wasn't exactly the right word either; she was furious. And to prove her point, she reached up and slapped him across the face.

With lightning-fast reflexes, Marcus grabbed her wrist before she could drop it to her side, and stepped towards her, his chest pushing her body so her back hit the wall, and before she could even blink, he claimed her lips once more.

While Bridgette should have resisted his advances, she didn't. In fact, she kissed him just as ferociously as he was kissing her. Again, Bridgette locked her arms around Marcus's neck as Marcus tightened his arms around her waist. He pressed his body against hers as close as he could; there was no space between their upper bodies whatsoever.

Bridgette let a helpless moan slip past her lips causing Marcus to growl possessively and push her so her back hit the wall once again. She scowled through the kiss and bit down on his bottom lip. Another growl – this one louder - escaped from his throat and he released his hold on her waist only to reach down to grab the back of her thighs, lifting her up off of the floor.

Immediately her legs wrapped tightly around his waist and she could feel his hardness through the denim of his jeans. She bit her bottom lip, preventing another whimper to escape, but Marcus's ears were hypersensitive and he could still hear it.

It was easy to hold her up; he was incredibly strong, and she felt like nothing in his arms. As he led her to the bed, his lips sought her neck and started sucking on the skin, leaving a trail of bruise-colored marks along her neck.

"If you bite me, I'll shoot you," she said, breathless but firm.

This actually caused Marcus to chuckle against her skin, but he did not refrain from plundering her flesh with his tongue.

When they reached the bed, he set her down, and she pulled herself up in order to give him room. Marcus wasted no time when it came to jumping on the bed and towered over her. He pressed his body against hers, and reclaimed her lips as his hands trailed down to caress her neck before continuing downward and landing on her breast.

Bridgette gasped, but her body responded instinctively, her back arching up, wanting more of his caresses.

She reached up and her fingers took hold of the buttons on Marcus's shirt. It took a few tries but she finally managed to slip his shirt off his broad shoulders and toss it over the side of the bed. Bridgette wasted no time; she reached up so her torso was off the bed and her lips could claim the flesh.  Her fingertips gently traced vertical lines up and down his body. Every time he twitched, she reveled in such an action, due to the fact that such a reaction was because of her.

Marcus's hands reached down to her thighs and he squeezed them possessively before reaching up, taking the skirt of the dress along with him. He didn't stop until it was over her head and accompanying his shirt somewhere on the floor. Her legs coiled around his waist, thrusting her pelvis up against his hardness.

"Wait," he hissed through his teeth, closing his eyes in order to control himself somehow. "Wait." This time his voice was softer and he locked eyes with her. "We have all the time in the world."

"But I want you now," she said, her voice breathy.

"Good," he said, his voice rough as his arm tightened around her waist, pulling her even more tightly against him.
"
Cause I want you now too."

The rest of their clothing was shed within moments, and currently, they were horizontal, bare bodies pressed together, kissing thoroughly but not yet connected. Marcus's hand continued to explore his lover's soft skin, and there were times when he couldn't help but do nothing, save for look at her, look at his mark on her neck. God, she was beautiful.

Bridgette reached up and locked her arms around his neck, catching his attention so he regarded her through hazel eyes. "Please," she begged, pushing her brow together. "I need you inside of me. Right now."

Marcus looked at her for a long moment before biting his bottom lip and nodded, pressing his lips on hers before positioning himself over her body. It took a moment, but Marcus wanted everything to be perfect when this happened.

When he entered her, a million words occupied his mind. His desire for her was coated by her warmth, fitting tightly around him. The sensation was enough to make him growl slightly, and his grip on her tightening. Too many words that were cliché in some way occupied his thoughts, but the one he kept going back to was that out of everything he could use to describe this moment, this feeling,
right
was the only word that encompassed everything.

Bridgette thrust her hips up, matching every one of his pumps. It didn't seem to register to her that she was currently making love to a man she had claimed she hated, but she didn't care. It felt too good, too right to stop. And who was she kidding; she had wanted this for a while.

His hands gripped her hips, raising them up so he could push deeper into her.

Bridgette felt her pelvis tingle, and her moans became more and more demanding. Marcus could feel her tightening around him; she was close, he knew it. He continued his pace, opening his eyes so he could watch her face infuse with pressure.

When she reached her climax, Bridgette reached up and bit his neck with her teeth. He roared, feeling himself lose himself in her.

That was the most powerful act of making love either of them had ever encountered. Their heavy breathing was a testament to that.

When Bridgette woke up, night seeped into her window.  Had she really slept for this long… ? It was then that she realized what had happened between her and Marcus. Immediately, her face flared up with shame and she felt tears accumulate in her eyes. How could she have let herself get so caught up in something as physical and meaningless as sex? Yes, he was incredibly good looking and he had saved her life and he caused a passion to flare inside of her she had never experienced with anybody else.

The act of making love – could one actually make love when there was no love between the two participants?
– thrilled her, excited her, and caused such pleasure that she felt her body shudder at the mere thought of what had occurred this morning.

Still, she had never been the type of girl that had engaged in one night stands or friends with benefits type of situations in her entire life. No matter how good she found the sex to be.

What if it wasn't her will to have sex with him? What if it was that stupid mark he had placed on her neck causing her hormones to skyrocket and as a result, her libido could not be controlled? And what if he knew this – he would have to, wouldn't he? He was a werewolf for crying out loud; he had to be familiar with his culture – then that meant he took full advantage of her. He knew she would never say no to him. Not when she was feeling so turned on anyways. He totally took advantage of the situation. He took advantage of her lowered defenses and used it to seek out pleasure.

How could she be
so
stupid?

Bridgette glanced over at Marcus’ sleeping form. He seemed to be naturally warmer than she did, due to the fact that he was a werewolf.  Maybe because of this, his whole upper torso was exposed, while the rest of him was barely covered in blankets. Her face heated up just looking at him. Flashes of what happened only hours ago popped into her head, and reminding tremors slid down her body, causing her to inadvertently twitch.

He was definitely a remarkable specimen, probably the most beautiful thing she had ever laid eyes upon. She could admit that, at least to herself.

When was the last time she had had sex, anyways? Maybe it was because she hadn't had it in so long – a few years, maybe two? But no; even though she thoroughly enjoyed the activity, she would never engage in the activity solely to get her rocks off.

So then what happened last night? She knew she had to take some responsibility for her part.  She had consented, after all. It wasn't all of Marcus's fault, and who knew, maybe Marcus was just as helpless as she was and they were both innocent victims of their unwanted connection.

Her eyes sought out the window again, and though they weren't as sharp as Marcus' when it came to seeing in the dark, her vision was pretty good. From where she was lying, she could see that her car was in the same place Marcus had parked it when he had first brought her here, which meant that the keys still had to be in the ignition.

She looked back at Marcus. She couldn't explain why, but some part of her wanted to stay here with him. She didn't want to marry him; her feelings on that matter hadn't changed, but she loathed him a little less than before. The way she felt when his hands were on her body was indescribable. She kept coming back to the fact that she had never felt this about anybody way before.  It was strong, deep, and burned with passion she had only read about in her romance novels.  And it was her reality.

But it didn't matter. She had to leave. Bridgette had to consider her own logical thinking, her job, and her friends. If she actually wanted to stay here, she would lose everything she had worked so hard to get. So what if Marcus was incredibly breathtaking and that chemistry between the two sizzled like no one she had been with before, the fact of the matter remained; she didn't belong with werewolves no matter what venom was polluting her body. As of now, she was a human and she wanted to go back home.

Bridgette slipped out of bed as silently as she possibly could. She knew how heightened werewolf senses were, but she hoped that he was sleeping deeply enough in order to not be disturbed. She crept over to where her dress and undergarments were and slipped it on before heading over to the door. She didn't need the clothes she came here with or anything else; she just needed to get in her car and take off.

On tiptoes, Bridgette crept out of her room and down the stairs.  She could hear the cooks preparing dinner – her stomach rumbled in protest at her departure – but had yet to encounter anyone.  Somehow, after a few tries, she managed to find the front doors.  Before exiting,
Bridgette pressed her ear against the door to ensure no hungry wolves were around waiting for her. When she was
sure that there were none, she opened the door and slipped into the night. It was cold in her dress, but at that moment, it didn't matter to her. Her mind was too focused that all she could think about was her goal of getting to the car, driving away, and going back home.

As she thought, the keys were in the ignition.

That was when Bridgette burst into tears, thankful to whomever it was that looked over her from Heaven above, ensuring that she would escape successfully. She turned on the car, not caring about the noise her engine would surely make. It didn't matter if anybody, even Marcus awoke – she would be out of there.  They wouldn’t be able to stop her now.

Bridgette, however, was slightly paranoid. Her eyes kept flickering up to her rearview mirror, but she never saw anyone, and when she finally reached her apartment, she was certain no one was following her.

The first thing that Bridgette did – after lock her front door and reset her security system - was phone Kendall, who was relieved upon hearing her friend's voice.

"Where have you
been
, Bridge?" Kendall asked groggily due to the late time. "Everyone's been so worried about you. We even thought something bad had happened…"

For a moment, Bridgette wanted to ask just why the NDS hadn't raided Marcus Sterling's mansion upon first hearing of her disappearance. To her, that would have been the logical choice; check out the werewolf that had left his mark on her. But apparently the NDS didn't exactly think like Bridgette, and Bridgette didn't want to take her frustration out on Kendall.

"I'll tell you all about it," she said, suddenly exhausted. "Do you mind coming over though? I know it's a lot to ask for, but I…" Bridgette hesitated, glancing away though she wasn't really looking at anyone in the first place. "I really don't want to be alone right now."

"Of course," Kendall murmured. "I'll be there in a half an hour, okay? I have to get ready."

Once Bridgette got off the phone with her friend, she drew herself a hot bath and forced her muscles to relax. By the time she had finished, her skin was wrinkling and warm to touch. But she was soothed and calm, and that was all she had wanted in the first place.

Kendall arrived moments afterwards, and Bridgette let her in. Though Kendall claimed she had to get ready, she was still wearing a pair of pajamas while Bridgette opted to stay in her fluffy white bathrobe.

"So," Kendall said once the two were seated comfortably on Bridgette's couch. "Are you okay? Do you want to talk, or would you feel more comfortable with me just being here rather than listening to what you have to say."

"I'd like to talk, if that's okay," Bridgette admitted. "I'm sort of confused about everything that has happened recently..."

"For as long as you want," Kendall assured her friend, and to emphasize the point, she reached out and squeezed Bridgette's shoulder.

In the next hour and a half, Bridgette told Kendall absolutely everything. She hoped beyond a reasonable doubt that if she could trust anyone, Kendall would be that person. They had met during their university days, and had been close ever since. Bridgette just hoped that Kendall would be able to keep her secret.

It wasn't as though Bridgette had done anything wrong, necessarily. But she also knew that such strong feelings for a werewolf was definitely against protocol, and if humans, regular unassuming humans, found out about this, she would be ridiculed and discriminated against. Having romantic feelings for a werewolf or a vampire was similar to having a strange sexual fetish; it wasn't yet accepted in society, despite a couple of movements that different support groups have participated in.

Bridgette didn't want to have these feelings anyways. She wanted to go back to normal, before any of this had happened, where the only thing on her mind was wondering if she was going to get that promotion, excitement for the next mission, and idly wondering if Clive had a thing for her or if his behavior was normal for him.

Now she had too many things piling inside of her mind that it hurt to think. And to top it off, the highest on her list was Marcus and his chiseled face. No matter what happened to her, if she was allowed to go back to normal, she knew that he would forever haunt her thoughts and dreams.

Somewhere, someplace inside of Bridgette smiled at this, though the she refused to acknowledge it, because even if such a thing was true, she would still have a part of him with her, despite their distance.