Chapter 3 #2
But instead of acknowledging it, she forced a smirk, the deflection automatic.
“Because you’re an ass?” she quipped, brushing past him as if his presence didn’t make her insides churn with a mix of anger and something she refused to name.
“An ass who knows how to conjure an excellent feast. But the meal is over,” she added briskly, snapping her fingers.
The table, food, and even the chairs vanished in an instant, dissolving into nothingness. If Marcus hadn’t been quick to stand, he would’ve landed unceremoniously on the floor.
Instead, he moved with the speed and precision she’d always envied, closing the distance between them before she could take a step. His arms circled her, lifting her off the ground as if she weighed nothing. “Try that again,” he snarled, his voice low and rough, “and you’ll regret it.”
Her breath hitched, her body stiffening as the tension between them surged like a live wire. Her hands, caught with nowhere else to go, braced themselves on his broad shoulders. The heat of him seeped through the fabric of his shirt, his strength undeniable in the way he held her so effortlessly.
Her nails dug into the expensive silk, threatening to leave marks as she fought the storm of conflicting emotions raging within her.
Frustration battled with a surge of desire she didn’t want to feel, couldn’t allow herself to feel.
It was infuriating how her body betrayed her, responding to the man she had sworn to despise.
The memories came unbidden, sharp as broken glass. She’d loved him once. Deeply, recklessly, completely. He’d made her feel seen, cherished, invincible. And then he’d destroyed it all. Destroyed her.
She tightened her jaw, her green eyes flashing with defiance as she glared at him. “Put me down,” she demanded, her voice low but steely.
“Not until you stop running from this,” he countered, his grip unyielding.
She hated how his voice softened at the edges, the protective tone beneath the frustration. It reminded her too much of the man she’d fallen for—the man she still couldn’t fully forget, no matter how much she tried.
“You don’t get to act like you care,” she hissed, her voice shaking with barely restrained anger. “Not after what you did.”
His gaze darkened, his brows drawing together as he studied her face. “I’ve always cared,” he said, the words heavy with conviction.
Her nails pressed harder into his shoulders as her emotions surged, anger and pain intertwining. “Really? Is that what you call it? Caring?” Her voice cracked, and she hated herself for it.
She remembered it too clearly—the moment she’d found out. That human woman. The way he’d chosen someone so… ordinary. The betrayal had cut so deeply, not because she didn’t respect humans, but because she couldn’t fathom why she hadn’t been enough for him.
Not then, not now.
“You made your choice, Marcus,” she spat, her green eyes blazing with a mix of fury and hurt. “Don’t act like I should believe a word you say now.”
His hold on her tightened briefly, his expression hardening. “You don’t know everything,” he said softly, but his voice carried a weight that made her heart stutter.
She narrowed her eyes. “And I don’t need to. You’ve already told me everything I need to know.”
Her words hung in the air, cold and cutting, but beneath them was a vulnerability she refused to show. Not to him. Not again.
“Get your hands off me!” she hissed, her voice sharp but trembling with the effort to keep control.
Slowly, Marcus lowered her feet back to the floor, his hands sliding away with deliberate slowness, as if daring her to protest further.
Her body brushed against his as she found her footing, the heat of him searing into her like a brand.
The moment should have ended there, but it didn’t.
His presence lingered, overwhelming, the air between them charged with something volatile and undeniable.
“As you wish,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, heavy with unspoken meaning. His blue eyes held hers with an intensity that sent shivers skittering down her spine. “But you can’t keep ignoring this, Sorcia. You know something’s coming, and whether you want me here or not, you need me.”
Her chest tightened, the words striking a nerve she didn’t want to acknowledge. “I don’t need anything from you,” she snapped, the edge in her voice betraying the turmoil roiling beneath the surface.
Marcus leaned closer, the heat of his breath brushing against her cheek, his gaze dropping momentarily to her lips before returning to her eyes. “Lying never looked good on you, sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice like a caress that made her pulse quicken.
“I’m not lying,” she countered, though her voice faltered. Her hands clenched at her sides, trembling with the effort to keep herself from reaching for him, from giving in to the magnetic pull between them.
His lips quirked into the faintest of smirks, though his eyes betrayed something deeper, something that burned brighter than amusement. “Then why are you shaking?”
She opened her mouth to retort but found the words stuck in her throat. His proximity, his unwavering gaze, the sheer force of his presence—it all made her feel like she was standing on the edge of a precipice, her defenses crumbling beneath the weight of her memories.
“I really hate you,” she muttered, her voice shaking, the words a weak shield against the emotions threatening to overwhelm her.
Marcus’s expression softened, though the intensity in his eyes never wavered. “No, you don’t,” he said simply, his voice dropping even lower. His hand twitched at his side as though resisting the urge to touch her.
The tension between them thickened, crackling like a live wire. Her breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling as the silence stretched, laden with everything they weren’t saying.
“Stop it,” she said, though even she wasn’t sure what she was asking him to stop—the way he was looking at her, the way he was unraveling her with every word, every moment of closeness.
“Stop what?” he asked, his voice a husky murmur, his lips dangerously close to hers now. “Looking at you? Being here? Caring?”
“Caring?” she repeated bitterly, though her voice broke at the end. She hated how raw she sounded, hated how he could still do this to her. “Don’t pretend this is about caring. You don’t care. Not after—”
He cut her off, his voice quiet but firm. “I’ve always cared, Sorcia. That’s the one thing that’s never changed.”
The words hit her like a punch to the gut, the truth in his tone stripping away her carefully constructed defenses. For a moment, she couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear the intensity in his eyes.
But she didn’t step back. She couldn’t. And when she finally met his gaze again, the air between them seemed to hum with electricity, their unresolved emotions swirling around them like a storm.
“You’re infuriating,” she whispered, though her voice had lost its bite, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.
“And you’re impossible,” he countered, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile.
The tension was unbearable now, the distance between them razor-thin, charged with the promise of what was to come. Neither of them moved, as though one wrong breath might shatter the fragile balance between them—or push them past the point of no return.
Marcus moved closer still, his towering presence filling the space between them, casting a shadow over her.
His scent—earthy, with a faint hint of cedar and spice—wrapped around her like a cloak, stirring something deep and unsettling within her.
It was maddening how he managed to ignite both her temper and her desire with such effortless ease.
“You’re in danger, Sorcia,” he said urgently, his voice low but commanding. “And if your coven is in danger, then mine is as well. We all are. So, I’m not leaving until this issue is resolved.”
His words hung in the air like a challenge, an undeniable reminder of the tangled web of fate that bound them together.
Sorcia’s resolve wavered as she looked into his eyes, their blue depths reflecting his unrelenting determination.
As much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t ignore the underlying truth in his words.
But her stubbornness flared, fanned by the fire of her lingering hurt and mistrust. She needed him gone, out of her life and away from the vulnerable parts of her heart that he always seemed to touch.
“There’s nothing wrong!” she yelled, throwing her arms in the air, her frustration boiling over.
She couldn’t deny that the safety of their covens was interconnected—everyone’s magic was, in some way.
The magnetic force of the sphaera, the earth’s mystical energy, strengthened when witches came together.
It was why her powers always burned brighter when Marcus was near, no matter how much she wished otherwise.
“You’ve always been a stubborn woman,” he snapped, his tone sharp with frustration. “But you’ve never been stupid!”
“Don’t you dare call me stupid!” she hissed, her green eyes blazing with fury as she lifted her hands, the magic coursing through her fingertips sparking dangerously.
“Not this time,” Marcus growled, his movements lightning fast. Before she could unleash her spell, his hands shot out, grabbing her wrists with unyielding strength.
In one swift motion, he twisted their bodies, pulling her against him with effortless control. Her back pressed into the hard wall of his chest, and his arms held her firmly in place. The sheer heat of him, the raw power in his grip, sent a jolt of awareness through her that left her breathless.
Sorcia struggled, spinning around to face him while her anger flared hotter.
But the weightlessness she suddenly felt—like the ground had shifted beneath her—stilled her.
Her pulse raced, not just from the adrenaline of their confrontation but from the proximity, the undeniable intimacy of the moment.
His breath brushed her ear, low and heavy, as he leaned down, his voice a gravelly whisper. “You don’t get to push me away this time, Sorcia. Not when everything is on the line.”
The air crackled between them, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. She hated how her body reacted, the traitorous heat pooling in her body and the way her magic hummed louder, stronger, just from his nearness.
“Let me go,” she demanded, though her voice lacked its usual bite.
“Not until you listen,” he murmured, his tone softer now but no less commanding. His grip loosened slightly, but his presence remained unyielding, his body still a solid, grounding force against hers.
Her breathing quickened, the battle within her raging as her mind screamed at her to resist while her body betrayed her, leaning ever so slightly into him. Damn him for always knowing how to push her to the edge—and damn herself for always letting him.
No, not weightlessness – they were flying!
The ground fell away beneath them as they soared through the air, Marcus's hold on her the only thing keeping them aloft.
Panic surged through Sorcia's veins as she realized the gravity of their situation.
They were airborne, suspended in a dizzying dance of magic and danger.
As they hovered, suspended in a timeless embrace, Sorcia felt a surge of transformative awareness wash over her. In this moment, she was not just a witch or a woman – she was a creature of magic, a witch, unbound by earthly limitations.
One moment, her hands were pressing against his chest. The next moment, she was pulling him closer.
There wasn’t even a startled moment when they both questioned what was going to happen.
It just…did! He kissed her deeply, devouring her mouth while his hands touched all of her.
Skirt and silk blouse were gone! They might have even burned up before the still-flaming ashes tumbled to the floor.
Sorcia wanted his shirt out of her way, but the buttons were too much for her fumbling fingers.
She tore at it so she could gain access to his hard, tanned chest. When his mouth moved from her mouth to her neck, Sorcia felt as if her world was on fire.
Somehow, they floated to her bed. That must have been Marcus’ doing because Sorcia was too intent on getting the man naked.
Fast! Clothes ripped and vanished. His mouth moved from her neck to her breasts, his teeth nipping and scraping against her taut nipple while his other hand tweaked the left nipple with his thumb and forefinger.
Sorcia cried out, arching her back as the intensity increased.
But she didn’t want to be the only one out of control.
Shifting, Sorcia pressed against his shoulders and he gave way, allowing her to straddle his hips.
She heard him hiss when she gave his nipples the same treatment.
But Sorcia wanted him to burn! She wanted him to be on fire for her!
Kissing and nipping her way lower and lower, she gripped his erection with one hand, squeezing him, then taking him into her mouth.
She sucked and licked, needing to drive him wild.
She must have pushed too hard, sucked or licked him one time too much because he jerked away, then lifted her, twisting their bodies once again.
They landed on the floor, Marcus taking the brunt of the thud.
But Sorcia couldn’t stop. This was Marcus and she’d missed him so damn much since he’d been gone.
She straddled his hips and lowered herself down, mindless now, needing the release that only he could give her. Needing him to fill her up and give her that perfect happiness that she’d missed so much over the past two years.
Riding him, sliding up and down, and shifting against him, Sorcia pleasured herself with his body.
Every time she lowered herself onto his shaft, she felt the shudders increase, her body getting closer and closer.
She wasn’t aware of her nails digging into his chest as she wiggled and shifted, doing whatever was needed to find that release that she’d dreamt of every night for two long years.