Chapter 31
Mark gasped awake. The unfamiliar comfort and warmth of the covers were trumped by a contentment he hadn’t experienced in a decade. He’d slept through the night. No more darkness and death. Rest.
Lost in the joy of connecting with a part of himself he thought was gone forever, Mark almost missed the warm body next to him. Lust replaced wonder in the instant the memory of last night clouded his mind.
He had a few seconds to take in Caster’s face, relaxed in sleep, so young, almost innocent, before a smirk broke through the calm. Shit.
“That’s a first. There is nothing innocent about me.” Caster opened his eyes. “And I am way…older than I look.” Concern clouded mirth. “How did you sleep?”
“Why? Did I wake you?” It was possible he couldn’t remember his nightmare.
Caster moved close, so close they shared a breath, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“You need to stop answering my questions with a question of your own.” His hand found Mark’s hip, drawing his lower thigh against his erection.
“It is becoming very annoying. And you don’t want me to be annoyed, do you? ”
Mark may have said no, but he didn’t think he’d even let the words out, not when Caster’s expert hand found a way past his clothing to grip his cock.
The first stroke was too constricted, hindered by his clothes, and Caster cursed, the unmistakable sound of his clothing ripping at the seams only a minor concern.
His sigh morphed into a moan as soon as Caster’s hand found its prize and started a steady rhythm. He started to close his eyes, but the slight shake of Caster’s head was a deterrence he couldn’t get past.
“I want to see you fall apart.”
Caster’s commentary drew every sensation to the fore of his too-aware mind. He wanted nothing more than to do what he asked. The whole world faded away, his wolf’s total acceptance of Caster’s dominating presence the only thought he allowed himself.
Their lips met, the kiss too gentle for his purposes. “That’s it, Baby. Take from me.” Caster continued to speak between kisses, but his words faded into the pleasure the pull of his hand enticed as Mark did his best to chase the retreating rhythm.
The kisses moved to his neck, and Mark couldn’t hold back any longer.
“No, not yet.” Caster’s breath tickled his throat, and he drifted further towards the pleasure pooling in his fluttering core, but he was an instrument in Caster’s symphony, the melody set, leaving him no choice but to follow along.
“Goddess, you are beautiful. Open your eyes.”
He didn’t remember closing them and regretted obeying when he saw the look of undisguised desire on Caster’s face. It was as if he wanted to own him, but just as disturbing was his total lack of objection.
“Fall apart for me.”
The command caught his mind off guard, but so total was Caster’s control that his body didn’t need his mind’s input.
The moan signaling his surrender reached his ears, but he was too busy granting Caster’s desire.
He fell apart in every sense of the word.
His breath caught, his muscles clenched and relaxed in rhythm with his shortened breath, flooding every cell with a pleasure he wanted to hold on to for eternity.
Caster’s name was a sigh as he floated back to himself to find the familiar smirk on his lips.
“Now, how did you sleep?”
He smiled, the pleasure still coursing through his veins, relaxing him even more than the best sleep he’d had in years. “Perfectly.”
“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
He reached for Caster’s cock, but the quick movement of Caster’s hand around his wrist stopped him halfway to his goal. He frowned.
“Soon.” Caster placed a single kiss on Mark’s lips and left the bed. “We have a meeting to get to.”
He sat up, every instinct on high alert. “What meeting?”
Caster turned to him. “Damien’s news last night was not good, and your brother needs to know.”
This time, when his heart rate sped up, fear instead of pleasure was to blame.
Caster was in bed with him again before he could remember to fortify his mind or still his heart.
His hands found Mark’s cheeks, cradling his face with more care than he would attribute to him. “You have nothing to fear.”
“What happened?”
Caster’s touch eased Mark’s fear more than he was comfortable admitting. “I know what Bastian did to you.”
Mark shook his head even as the earnest expression on Caster’s face rebuffed his denial.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, and I couldn’t possibly have all the information, but will you answer one thing for me?”
Mark nodded, the rush of panic that Caster could see through his facade to the broken part of him, stealing his words.
“How many were they?”
He tried to get the words out, but they remained stuck behind the wall he’d shoveled those memories.
“How many vampires were there that night?”
“Six.”
Caster’s hand in his hair drew him away from that wall. “You would recognize each one?”
“Their faces are seared into my memory. So is their scent.”
Caster nodded. “Good.”
He had little resistance to give when Caster’s lips claimed his. The comfort his tongue offered obscured the overwhelming desire for each other, but he pulled away too soon, leaving Mark with a craving he was certain he wouldn’t get over anytime soon.
“I can have all your things moved into this room?”
“No. I…”
Caster’s hand moved to the back of his head and tightened.
“I’m sorry if that sounded like a question.
” He released Mark and got off the bed. “What I meant to say is, this is your room now.” He raised an eyebrow when Mark didn’t move.
“Come on. You still need to eat, shower, and change before we meet the others.” He walked to the open bathroom door and turned, pinning Mark with a look he could only describe as sinful.
“If your clothes were here, we’d shower together. ” And he disappeared into the bathroom.
The sound of running water startled Mark into movement. He needed to get to his room before he talked himself into accepting the veiled invitation.
The niggling fear of what would be revealed at the meeting was a constant companion as he showered and dressed, his assigned room seeming even more foreign than before. How much did Caster know about that night?
There was no way he knew everything. Mark had never shared the entirety of it with anyone. Even James, whose arrival had scuttled the witch’s plan, had little information about what had transpired before. It was such a painful memory to contend with; Mark was certain he’d suppressed some of it.
Caster all but promised to bring the six vampires involved that night to justice. But could he trust him to do that when one of them was his blood relative?
His door opened, and Dean walked in, stopping all thought of Caster and his promise.
His brother looked at him with a little more scrutiny before shaking his head. “You’ve been summoned too?”
“Can we go back to when all of this was simple?” He thought about grabbing a jacket, but decided against it. There was little chance he would leave the house. “What do you think it’s about?”
“Have you eaten?”
Dean’s avoidance meant he knew more than he let on. “What aren’t you telling me?”
His brother sighed, his massive shoulders sagging with defeat. “James said they know.”
He frowned.
“They know about that night. They even know James was there.”
“Yeah, I know.”
It was Dean’s turn to regard him with suspicion.
“Caster told me.” Mark winced. When would he learn to keep his separate issues separate?
His brother seemed ready to launch a barrage of questions, and he fortified himself against each one, readying appropriate responses to throw Dean off the scent.
The last thing he needed was to have to explain his unusual relationship with Caster to his brother.
Dean stared at him for a long moment and then shrugged, as if accepting the answers he hadn’t given. “I was serious about the food, and I know you’re hungry. Breakfast and then war.”
He walked out the door like a whirlwind Mark had no choice but to follow. He was surprised when his brother led him through the unfamiliar house to a large kitchen. The young vampire from last night was there, a warm smile lighting up her pretty features when she saw them.
She glanced at Dean, and a blush colored her pale cheeks. Mark restrained his smile at her appropriate response to his brother. If he knew her better, he would warn her. She wasn’t unique. Just one in a long line of boys and girls who fell all over themselves for a modicum of Dean’s attention.
He thanked her for breakfast and followed Dean’s lead as they sat at the only table in the room. “Really?”
His brother didn’t even try to deny it. “You can judge me when you tell me who you’ve been fucking.” He smiled, a self-righteous, annoying curve of his lips. “Yes…I know you weren’t in your room last night.”
Mark stared at his brother, careful to keep his expression neutral.