Chapter 15
Two weeks later, Sorcia was at her wit’s end.
“This is ridiculous!” she growled, pacing back and forth across her loft.
Her sore feet were cushioned by the thick area rug, but the softness did little to soothe her fraying nerves.
She was in another pair of leggings and an oversized sweater, her trusty slippers providing a small comfort in the privacy of her home.
“There has to be a way to find this bastard! And soon!”
Her frustration was palpable, rolling off her in waves as she stomped from one end of the loft to the other.
The weight of the last two weeks hung heavily on her shoulders.
She was exhausted, perpetually on edge, and, to her dismay, gaining weight because every time Marcus was around—which was all the time—she found herself eating whatever he chose.
Burgers, fries, ice cream, chocolate…he ate it all without a care, his lean, muscular frame immune to the consequences. Meanwhile, her once-perfectly tailored clothes were starting to feel uncomfortably snug.
And why the hell was Marcus still here? This wasn’t his problem.
His coven wasn’t in danger. If her coven fell—which it wouldn’t, she reminded herself fiercely—he could just return to Chicago and warn his witches to prepare for demon invasions.
Yet here he was, day after day, sticking by her side, his calm presence an infuriating contrast to her fraying composure.
As she turned on her heel to pace back in the other direction, the soft ping of her doorbell froze her mid-step.
Sorcia swung around, her eyes narrowing as her fury boiled over. She didn’t need to check; she knew exactly who was standing on the other side of the door.
With a flick of her wrist, the door flew open, her magic carrying her anger ahead of her. Sure enough, there he was: Marcus, tall and impossibly handsome, his calm demeanor only adding fuel to her simmering rage.
“You!” she hissed, her green eyes blazing.
“Me?” Marcus replied, his tone maddeningly calm, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of amusement.
“Yes, you!” she snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at him.
“What did I do now?” he asked as he stepped inside, shutting the door gently behind him.
“You!” she repeated, her voice rising. But she faltered. She didn’t have a specific accusation—just a tidal wave of anger, frustration, and bone-deep exhaustion.
He chuckled softly, his understanding tone only stoking her fury further.
“Didn’t sleep again last night?” he asked, his voice smooth, husky, and too damn soothing for her liking.
“No, I didn’t sleep,” she snapped. “And you know exactly why!”
He moved closer, shrugging off his charcoal jacket and draping it over an overstuffed white chair adorned with fluffy faux-fur pillows. The stark contrast between his sharp, tailored jacket and her soft, cozy decor shouldn’t have been so appealing, but it was. Too appealing.
Sorcia ripped her gaze away from the chair and glared up at Marcus as he closed the gap between them. “I didn’t sleep,” she repeated, her voice wavering with emotion, “because every time I closed my eyes, you were there!”
He stopped inches from her, his towering presence swallowing the space between them. His blue eyes softened as they searched hers, and for a moment, she felt the overwhelming weight of his concern.
“I know why I didn’t sleep,” he said quietly, his tone gentler now.
His thumb brushed lightly against the dark circles under her eyes, the tender gesture catching her off guard.
“Stop it,” she whispered, her voice trembling. She wanted to pull away, to summon her anger as a shield, but her body refused to cooperate.
“You really didn’t sleep at all,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet intensity that sent shivers down her spine. “Not even a little, have you, love?”
Her breath hitched at the endearment. For a moment, the storm inside her stilled, replaced by an aching vulnerability she didn’t want him to see.
She shook her head and his gaze softened further, and in that moment, she hated him for being able to see through every one of her defenses.
For a brief moment, Sorcia closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, the warmth of his thumb against her skin offering a comfort she hadn’t felt in weeks.
Her mind, always spinning with plans, fears, and relentless responsibility, quieted for the first time in what felt like forever.
She was so wound up, so drained and tense, that the simple act of someone touching her with tenderness nearly unraveled her completely.
It took several blissful seconds before reality snapped back into focus, and she realized what she was doing. Her eyes flew open, and she forced herself to pull away, but it required monumental effort. She craved his touch so deeply that her body ached from the absence of it. Marcus felt so…right.
Inhaling a shaky breath, she straightened her spine and willed herself to find her footing again. “No, I haven’t been sleeping well,” she admitted, her voice softer than she intended.
“You’re working so hard to ignore the tension between us,” Marcus said, his tone low and insistent. “Why not just accept it?”
Sorcia’s lips parted, but her reply caught in her throat.
She tried to mask the longing she knew he could see in her eyes, but she suspected she’d failed miserably.
“I’m not upset about what’s between us,” she said quietly, her words carrying a mix of vulnerability and defiance.
“I’m worried about my coven. They’re my family, Marcus.
Someone is going to hurt them, and I can’t—”
“I know,” he interrupted, his voice calm but filled with an understanding that made her chest ache. “You’re terrified of letting them down. Of not protecting them.”
She nodded, the admission almost too much to bear.
“And you don’t think you deserve a break,” he added, his tone softening further.
Her lips parted to respond, but the words died on her tongue as his hand slid around the back of her neck.
The warmth of his palm sent a jolt of electricity through her, and her eyes drifted closed once again.
His fingers moved with an intuitive precision, applying just the right amount of pressure to release some of the tension she’d been carrying for weeks.
“Marcus…” she whispered, but it wasn’t a protest.
When his lips brushed against hers, the caress was slow, unhurried, and maddeningly gentle.
It wasn’t enough—not nearly enough to quench the fire burning inside her.
Sorcia’s restraint shattered, and she reached up, gripping his shoulders and pulling him down to her.
The kiss deepened, and she poured every ounce of pent-up frustration, exhaustion, and raw need into it.
Every casual touch while they’d walked through the city, every fleeting brush of his legs against hers as they’d flown through the night—every suppressed emotion she’d tried to ignore—exploded in that kiss.
Marcus didn’t hesitate. His hands tangled in her hair, tilting her head back to deepen the connection. She whimpered against his lips, her fingers clutching his shirt as if it were the only thing tethering her to reality.
When she lifted onto her tiptoes, the angle still wasn’t enough to satisfy the hunger burning through her. Sensing her need, Marcus wrapped his arms around her, lifting her effortlessly. Sorcia instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, burying her face against his neck as he held her close.
This—this was what she needed.
For the first time in weeks, her exhaustion, her frustration, and her fears fell away, leaving only the intensity of this moment. His strength grounded her, his touch ignited her, and for a fleeting, blissful second, the weight of the world didn’t seem so heavy.
“More!” she hissed, shifting so his erection was pressing against her core. Before she understood what was going on, she felt herself tumbling backwards. When she opened her eyes, Marcus was looming over her.
“We’re not doing this fast like the last time,” he rasped.
Then he pushed away from her and, reaching behind his neck, he pulled the knit sweater over his head, dumping it and the white shirt underneath it on the floor.
As he stripped her clothes off, Sorcia felt as if every cumbersome article of clothing was like a weight being pulled away.
Sorcia couldn’t tear her eyes away from his magnificent chest. She reached up, running her hands over the muscles and light dusting of dark hair. His hair tickled her palms and she did it again, moving closer as she did so.
He was stripping off his slacks, toeing off his shoes and socks.
When he stood in front of her, completely naked, Sorcia could barely remember how to breathe.
Leaning forward, she kissed his chest, the small indentation of his sternum, letting her hands move lower, gripping his erection while her mouth found his nipple.
She might have smiled in triumph when she heard him hiss, but then his hands dove into her hair, tugging and pulling, directing her to his other nipple.
She wanted to drive him just as wild as she felt, her hand stroking his shaft while her thumb teased the sensitive underside.
He groaned and hissed and she laughed, glorying in every part of him that she could feel as well as the power she had over him.
But a moment later, too soon for her preference, he flipped her onto her back, her legs propped up over his shoulders.
“You think you can drive me crazy without any retribution?” he asked, his mouth curving into a feral smile.
His hands stroked down her legs, then slid up her waist to her breasts.
Those big, strong hands of his cupped her breasts, teasing the tips.
He leaned forward, opening her up to his inspection. And he looked! Everywhere!
Without any warning, Marcus slid a finger inside of her, teasing the slick, pink folds.
Sorcia arched, stunned by how close she was.
He must have realized that she was right on the cusp because he pulled back, then kissed his way down her inner thigh.
Spreading her legs wider, he licked her folds, startling her with the hot, velvety intensity.
“More!” she gasped, wiggling as if she needed to tempt him.
Not Marcus. He was already there, already licking at her folds again while his finger slid into her heat, teasing her further.
His finger flipped over, stroking the nerve endings inside as his mouth latched onto her nub and sucked.
Hard! With the suction and his tongue flicking against her sensitive nerves, she couldn’t hold back.
Her climax screamed out of her and she grabbed onto his head, holding him in place while the waves of pleasure washed over her.
When she sighed, the waves settling into a soft rocking now, Marcus pulled away.
But not for long. He licked his lips, teasing her nipples with one hand as he stroked himself with the other.
Before she knew what was happening, he thrust into her, her body still slick and ready for him and she inhaled, absorbing his shaft with a fierce joy that had her crying out his name.
Over and over, he thrust into her, his thumb stroking her nub while his other hand held onto her hips.
Sorcia lifted her own hands, pinching her nipples as her body soared to another climax.
She tightened her inner muscles, wanting him to join her this time.
When she heard his groans of pleasure, she let herself go and that caused her body to climb higher, the glorious sensations too intense for even breathing.
A long time later, Marcus lifted himself up and looked down at Sorcia. Her lips were swollen from his kisses and she could barely keep her eyes open. This was his woman, he thought. Now it was time for him to prove it to her.
He had a plan.
He wasn’t going to live without Sorcia any longer.
After today, after the way she’d been reacting to him over the past two weeks, he knew that he had to make his move or he’d lose her forever once this demon was caught.
Watching her as she slept in his arms, Marcus felt as if his whole life had been put on hold while he’d waited for Sorcia to come to her senses and realize that he never would have cheated on her.
Apparently, she was more stubborn than he could have believed.
So now he wasn’t going to take any more chances.