Blood Awakening (33 page)

He gently brushed the back of his hand against her
core, drawing out liquid heat as he repeated the motion, and then he turned his
hand palm facing up, allowing his fingers to trace her inner folds. His head
fell forward against her thigh, and he struggled for breath as he swept his
hand over her warmth again and again, each time adding more pressure.

She fisted her hands in his wet hair and then grasped
again at the shower wall as if she didn’t know which one to hold onto. Marquis
stood up then. He gripped her slender waist with his powerful hands and bent to
claim her mouth, his kiss alternating between tasting, probing, enticing, and claiming.
When he ran his tongue over the soft fullness of her bottom lip, he couldn’t keep
himself from nipping it gently. His tongue swept over the small droplet of
blood, and he gently pulled her lip into his mouth, suckling the taste of her.

His hand found the back of her neck and held her
head in place as he deepened the kiss and clutched her with a force he was
fighting to restrain.

This female was his.

The gods had given her to him to keep, to pleasure,
to stroke, to taste...to love.

And to claim.

The male warred with the vampire, the intellect
with the instinct. One desired to gently make love to his wife; the other was desperate
to claim her for all time, to mark her with his scent and his touch, to command
her into full submission so that she never thought of another male again. He
wanted to give her everything: his heart, his blood, and his seed. And he
wanted to take everything from her.

Dear gods, he wanted to drain her of every drop of
her pure, celestial blood until he passed out from the strength of it; and now
that she was no longer human, there was no danger of harming her. She would
simply strike him back and siphon what she needed long before she would allow herself
to be harmed. Her instinct would war with his.

His shaft became so hard at the thought it felt
like a spear of granite straining to push its way through his pants, and the restricting
cloth grew painful against the sensitive head.

He quickly shrugged out of his shirt and ripped at
his trousers, kicking them from his feet. Smiling, Ciopori removed his
remaining undergarment and ran her hand back and forth over the length of him,
purring as she stroked him.

Purring.

His woman had just growled
in lust
.

Marquis’s fangs shot through his gums like a
firecracker exploding on the fourth of July, and he dipped his head, his hands
riding up her shapely curves to cup the weight of her breasts. His thumbs found
the sensitive nipples and flicked, caressed, making circles before he finally
bent to taste them. His sigh was so deep and primitive that the glass on the
shower door rattled.

Slow down
, he told himself.

Before Ciopori could move against him, which he
knew would shatter his control, he fell back on his knees and pulled her
velvety thighs apart. His hands grasped her at her middle, his thumbs at her
hips, his palms at her buttocks, clutching and massaging the shapely curves as
his head fell forward and his tongue took its first taste.

He almost lost it right then and there.

Holy Pegasus
. How embarrassing would that be?
He trembled, trying to regain control. He slowed his breathing, and then he dipped
lower to get a deeper taste. His tongue traced every outline and curve, his
lips opening to press his mouth to her warmth and suckle; he swallowed all he
could like a man dying of thirst. He flicked his tongue over her cleft before
taking it into his mouth and gently sucking, tracing…teasingly scraping his
teeth against her core.

Ciopori cried out, fisting his hair in both hands,
her body building to a rapid climax. Her hips moved in sweet, passionate
circles against him, taking all he could give her and pleading for more. Her
leg came up time and time again, the inside of her beautiful thigh brushing
against his hair as she arched to give him better access.

Marquis was like a man possessed. The more she
moved, the deeper his tongue dove. The harder she squirmed, the louder her
pants and sighs. The rougher his lips became, the more she whimpered—and the fiercer
he claimed her with his mouth. Sensing the inevitable, he released one of his
hands and buried two fingers inside of her, careful not to lose the rhythm of
his tongue, his own moans barely drowned out by the rushing water.

Ciopori thrashed against him in ecstasy, calling
out his name until finally, her eyes filled with tears and she tried to pull
away. “I can’t take it! Marquis, stop.”

Enfolding her hips with a powerful arm, he pulled
her to him and held her still. As three fingers entered her, he took her cleft into
his mouth and suckled hard, the thrusts of his hand demanding and urgent. She
struggled to move, but he held her still as she screamed the names of the gods.

And then she went over the edge.

Trembling from head to foot, her body shook and her
womb contracted over and over as powerful waves of pleasure took her. Marquis
used his mental powers to send electrical currents into the sensations already
overwhelming her, and he held her steady as the powerful bolts shook her body
along with her orgasm. Catching it at its peak, he suspended time and held it
there, allowing the primal pleasure to go on and on for well over a minute. When
finally, her cries became sobs and her sobs became a pleasure so agonizing that
she fought to get away, he released the peak and allowed her body to unwind.

The prolonged orgasm, along with the harsh
restraint, had left her so physically and emotionally exposed that she trembled
from the vulnerability. She had surrendered her control in a way that was
difficult for any soul to do—for a length of time that had broken down every
barrier she possessed, and tears streamed down her face. She was part of him
now. He had marked her, claimed her, taken her beyond the edge and held her
there with total authority while she gave herself up to his absolute command.

Marquis massaged her hips and stayed with her,
taking long, lazy laps with his tongue, gently scraping his fangs along her
thighs, teasing her and pleasing her gently while she came down. When all of her
tremors had finally ceased, he stood, grasped her face in his hands, and kissed
her long and slow. And then his eyes heated, and he knew they were glowing
feral red. A deep, primordial growl began in his chest and rose to his throat,
vibrating against his tongue as he felt his fangs lengthen even farther. His
shaft swelled to a heavy, painful ache.

Ciopori reached down to catch the first drops of
moisture as they seeped from the weeping head, rubbing the swollen tip with her
thumb. Her lips parted, and she bent to take him, to return the favor, her
glorious eyes catching his with a wickedly sexy glance, but he wasn’t having
any of that. His need was too great. He did not possess the restraint necessary
to keep from heavy thrusting.

Shaking his head, his eyes bored into hers and his
lips twitched in a snarl. It was instinct not menace…passion not anger…but a
warning just the same. And Ciopori took it exactly as it was intended. She
stood back up. Her body became liquid compliance, her eyes begged for his touch,
and she threw back her head, offering him her throat.

Marquis bent to the magnificent offering, his
fangs etching soft lines into her milky skin as he drew them up and down the
length of her jugular, and then he made a tiny pin-prick with the tip of a
canine and tasted the blood on his tongue.

A deep moan of ecstasy escaped his throat, and he
seized her by the shoulders and quickly spun her around. Clutching her waist
with one arm, he pulled her hips away from the tiles and bent her slightly
forward, using his free hand to place her arms high above her head, against the
shower walls. Gently kicking her legs to the sides, he splayed her spread eagle.
Ah, yes. Her arms and legs were exactly where he wanted them.

His erection was too large to take her with force,
so he took the thickness in his hand and slowly eased the head against her, opening
and caressing while testing her readiness at the same time. When she moaned and
pushed back against him, he let go, gripped her hips, and slowly surged forward,
filling her just beyond her perimeter in one smooth stroke. He rocked slowly
back and forth against her, thrusting carefully, easily, as her body stretched
impossibly to try and accommodate him.

Even though she had taken him before, Ciopori stiffened
with hesitation. “Marquis,” she whispered, “I don’t know what...what’s
different this time, but I can’t—you’re too big like this. It’s too—”

Marquis bent over and suckled her neck, kissing
his way up her ear then down her jaw, before reaching to turn her head back so
he could kiss her. All the while, he continued to work his shaft in and out,
slowly pushing deeper and deeper.

She gasped when he pulled his mouth away, panting,
and there was a tinge of desperation in her voice. “Dear gods, I...I—”

“Relax, my love,” he murmured, kissing the back of
her neck. “Let your body stretch for me.”

“I’m trying,” she panted, pushing back against him
with pleasure despite her protests.

Marquis held her hips down so that his body went
even deeper on the next stroke, and then he held himself still, growing thicker
inside her.

Ciopori whimpered.

“Ciopori,” he coaxed, “relax your thighs; relax
your stomach; just fall back against me and trust.” Ciopori’s body went lax,
and like liquid butter, he felt her inner core mold and give way, making space
that had never been there before as it adjusted to his size. He moaned. “That’s
it, baby. Oh yeah, that’s exactly it.”

The water washed over them both, and she looked so
amazingly sexy as she laid her head to the side against the cool shower tiles,
her long, thick hair falling forward, water cascading from her back. Her
breasts jutted out like mounds of perfection, tantalizing his eyes as her body rocked
to his rhythm, and she took all he could give her with complete surrender.

Marquis swept Ciopori’s hair aside. His fangs
brushed over the smooth skin where her shoulder met her neck, and he gently sank
them into her flesh, forming a tight seal over the bite and locking his jaw in
order to hold her in place. The whimpers that followed were crises of pure satisfaction
as her body instantly splintered into another powerful orgasm.

Marquis moved faster and more deeply then,
thrusting into her orgasms as she lay against the shower wall, weeping with
pleasure. His own arousal grew to the point of ecstasy, and then he went over
the edge with her in a cosmic explosion. He trembled, riding it out, loving her
more in that moment than he had ever loved anything or anyone in his life. As
he withdrew his fangs, he knew that he would kill for her, die for her.

Live for her
.

And follow her to the Valley of Spirit and Light
if ever she should be taken from him.

“I was dead before you came,” he whispered in a deep,
raspy voice, still breathing heavily. “And I was resigned to existing for all
of eternity that way with Kristina.” His voice grew hoarse with emotion. “I may
have sired her body, but you have sired my soul. You have given me life again,
Ciopori.”

Ciopori reached back with one arm to encircle his neck.
She turned her head to the side in order to capture his mouth. Her kiss told
him all she couldn’t say. When she finally pulled away, she turned to face him
and gazed into his eyes. “You are my world as well, Marquis. In Romania, we
lived in such fear, only shadows of our former selves. As a woman, my fate
placed me in the ground, alone, with only my sister and the hope of some day
finding salvation through awakening.” Her smile was dripping with love. “You
were that salvation, and the thought of not having you with me, beside me...
inside
of me
...for the rest of my life…”  She let the words trail off. “There is
nothing I would not do for you, nothing I would not give you. Nothing that
could ever repay you for what you have given me.”

Marquis wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.
After all the centuries, the wars, the losses, living so painfully alone—after a
millennium, learning to shut down his heart and emotions, forcing himself into
continued existence, and truly believing the gods had scorned him—he had finally
been given a gift equal to his sacrifice. The restoration was greater than the
loss.

Balance had come full circle.

Granted, it had taken fifteen centuries, but oh-how-sweet-it-was
now that he could finally taste it. He nuzzled her hair, meditating on her
words: He would never be a soft man. He would never have the easy humor, style,
or wit of Nathaniel or the laid-back nature of Nachari. He would never have the
gentleness of Kagen, and there would always be hard, rough edges around him—a quick
fuse beneath a domineering personality—simply because of who he was and all he
had been through. But somehow, this woman saw through it all. She saw the soul
that he was unable to reveal. And she loved him.

She would give him anything.

To repay him?

Didn’t she know that he had gotten the very best
of this deal? Didn’t she realize that now that he had her, he had everything? What
else could a male possibly want?

And then the brutally obvious came back to him.

Of course there was something that he needed.

Desperately.

And the fact that he could have forgotten, for
even a moment, spoke volumes about the peace his
destiny
had brought into
his life.

Marquis Silivasi needed a son.

He needed a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of
his ancestors—to be free, once and for all, from the shadow of the Blood Curse.

Gazing down into the eyes of his beautiful mate,
he took her face in his hands and locked his gaze with hers. He turned his head
to view the small digital clock on the bathroom sink and made note of the time:
three a.m.