Chapter 36
MARCUS
“Again.”
Leah huffs at me but shuts her eyes. We are cross-legged on the floor of her library that night. Her magic awoke less than twenty-four hours ago, but we must work on it if we are to have any chance against my brother.
A ward glows a faint blue around us, protecting us from the magic that may splash from her at any moment.
If she can focus.
She lets out a frustrated little sound and her eyes pop open.
I raise my brows, partly because I know it will make that adorable frown etch between hers.
Especially irritated, my mate is beautiful.
Her silky hair is twisted over her head, baring her delicate neck.
She’s wearing the deliciously short dress she wore to the store, and my palms itch to stroke the skin of her thighs.
“It’s not working.” Her shoulders slump. “I can feel it. It’s right there. But I can’t access it.”
Leah is like many warriors I’ve trained. She is all grit. All determination. “Let’s try something new.”
I can see her wavering. She told me how long she spent hoping for magic, and I see that spark gleaming in her eyes. I do not want to snuff it out. I want to be the wind that fans her flame. I push to stand, liking the way she watches me from under her lashes, before I give her my hand.
“Come on, slayer.”
She sighs and accepts my hand. I pull her off balance and against my chest.
“Hi,” she breathes, fighting a smile. “Don’t distract me.”
“I am not distracting you. This is training.” My smile has an edge. “You are like a battering ram, little one.” Before she can growl at me, I add, “It is admirable. I’ve fought and trained many like you. But you could stand to be more like me.”
She yanks at my hand, but I hold her fast. Her eyes are practically throwing sparks.
“You need to think tactically. Be ready for anything. Use anything. To live, you must be willing to do even the most distasteful things.” Her eyes widen as I speak. My voice carries the weight of centuries of conviction. “When did you first feel the magic?”
Her mouth twists. “After we had sex. But surely that’s not—”
“I wish it were,” I say ruefully. “Before that.”
“The blood,” she exclaims. “You gave me your blood.”
I grin. Clever mate. “Want more?” I score a fang across my thumb, barely registering the pain, and raise it to her lips. She sucks it into her mouth, and I groan. She pauses. “Keep going,” I say thickly. “It will never not feel good to me.”
She laves her tongue over the wound and sucks, hard. I feel like I’ve been punched, and I fight to stay upright. The shallow cut seals before she can take more.
“I feel good.” She rolls her shoulders. “I can feel it. Marcus,” she exclaims. She breaks my grip and holds out her hands. “Look.”
There’s a faint blue glow. I take a wary step back and scent the air. It smells like hot metal, and my instincts warn me to stay away.
“It smells like chains,” I growl.
“It’s called a lasso,” she says excitedly.
“My great-aunt’s sister had the power. Apparently it wasn’t very strong, but she could tether a vampire to her will for a period of time.
The strongest among us grow wings when we our magic is active.
” She shakes her head, grinning. “Good thing I’m not that powerful.
I’m terrified of heights. I could never.
” The blue glow grows stronger, and my chest squeezes.
The reminder is too much for me, and I take another wary step back. Leah’s face falls. The glow goes away.
“Shit,” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” I growl. “Do not be sorry. We must practice.” I blow out a long sigh and roll my shoulders. “This is a reckoning of sorts, slayer. Summon it again.”
At the end of an hour, Leah can hold me with her will for one full second and force me to lift my hand to my mouth.
“Are we done?” She shakes out her arms.
The past hour has been agony, but watching her come into her own eclipses my fear. She is lighter than before, smiling, thrilled to use her power.
I could never take that from her.
“We need more.”
She glowers at me. Sweat drips from her neck and slips between her breasts.
“We need to hold Julian for at least three seconds. Can you get more magic?” If Leah is a battering ram, I am far worse. All my focus is on eliminating the threat of Julian, especially now that his sights are on my mate. The fear of it is a constant presence in my thoughts.
She frowns and lets her eyes drift shut. “Maybe. I feel it refilling, but slowly. It feels like I’m being stretched, like it’s a muscle. I think I can get more if I give it time.” Her lids flutter. “More blood, maybe.” Her grin is cheeky.
“More blood?” I raise my brows. “You’ll have to earn it, brat.”
Her mouth makes a perfect O, and then her smile is back. That smile says she has things in store for me. My whole body electrifies.
“I don’t take orders from vampires.”
In seconds, I have her caged against the wall. Her mouth tips up under mine, hot and demanding. She’s already waiting for me to lick into her, to suck on her tongue. Our mouths slip desperately against each other.
She’s so good and so needy and perfect for me. She can match a vampire’s thirst for pleasure, a thirst I forgot. I feel like parts of me have been buried these past centuries, and she is cracking me open.
I have never been more eager to be broken.
I slip the straps of her dress down and bare her lovely breasts. Her nipples are large and dusky and beg for my mouth. I pinch one just to watch her mouth part on a sigh. She is already lost to pleasure.
“What was that, mate?”
She moans. I pinch harder.
“I don’t take orders from you.” She grins at me from under her lashes. “Unless you make me.”
My blood fires hot under my skin. I turn her and press her to the shelves, feeling her shake against the books. Her hands scrabble for purchase. My fist twists in her hair and forces her head back.
“Do it,” she gasps, arching.
I want her so badly my hands shake as I undo my pants, as I push her dress up to expose that lovely, round ass. I smooth one palm down her back, all the possessiveness of a newly mated vampire rising like a tide in my chest.
“Marcus,” she commands, biting off my name.
I smile, and even I can feel the edge to it, my need to deny her and claim her and play with her rising violently inside me. “I don’t take orders from slayers,” I murmur against her hair.
She growls low in her throat, still fighting to get closer.
I grind myself against her, rubbing my cock against the fullness of her ass, slipping between her legs.
I press her cruelly to the shelves, forcing her to turn her head.
Her lids flutter shut. Her breath comes in shallow pants as she arches, as she begs me with her body for more.
She is so soft and slick against me, and when I lick two fingers and press them between her legs, I find her drenched.
She moans and bucks against my hand. I kick her legs wide and spread her pussy with my fingers.
“All that? For me?”
“You know it is,” she snaps.
My cock jerks against the small of her back. Pride is spiraling hot in my stomach.
I drop my chin to her shoulder so I can speak filth into her ear as I stroke her pussy.
“So quick, little mate. You’re soaking my hand. I barely touched you.”
Her lashes flutter and her breaths come faster. “Stop talking,” she grits, “And touch me more.” She bucks against my hand and I chuckle.
“I could make you come in seconds, you filthy girl. Just my thumb against your clit and you’d detonate. For your enemy, Leah. You tried to kill me.”
Her lashes lift, so she can glare at me, and I laugh.
“Not my enemy,” she pants. She pushes back against my hand. “Harder, vampire. Before I revise my opinion.”
“Oh, but Leah,” I croon, keeping my touch light, knowing she is frustrated and needy.
“You don’t need it harder. You’re so close, slayer.
” I slick my fingers faster and faster over her clit, savoring the hard rise and fall of breasts against the bookshelves, and the soft cries she makes.
Excitement pulses hot and fast, gathering at the base of my cock.
“So close for me and only me. You hated me, and now you’ll come on my cock. ”
“Marcus,” she snarls. “Don’t make me wait.”
I hum in my throat, fighting the rising tide of my need. “Tell me you want it.”
“Damn you, vampire.” She slams a hand against the shelf. “I want it.”
I remove my fingers and grip my cock, slicking her wetness over it and shuddering at the feel.
“I will not make this easy for you.”
Her breath quickens. Perfect. She is so perfect for me. “Good,” she breathes. “I’ve never liked things easy.”
I lift her leg and push inside her before she can take her next inhale. She trembles.
“Breathe out,” I urge. My hand skims over her stomach, grounding her as she clenches on my cock.
I’m only halfway in, and she might have no care for her pain, but I do.
She complies and I sink in deeper. “So good,” I coax.
I rub my face against her hair. I will not bite her like this.
Not when I am so on edge, not when it will make the unsealed bond more painful.
“Sink further for me, little mate. Like that. Let me take care of you.” Another inch and I feel her pleasure cresting against the bond.
“So soon?” I tease, thrusting shallowly.
She moans and tries to push back against me, but I grip her hips.
“Trust me,” I murmur. “I’ll make it good.
” Another thrust, deeper. Her breath gasps out of her. She grips the shelves.
“Like that, Leah. And then you can come, and I won’t let you fall. I promise.” I bottom out inside her and she pulses around me.
“Marcus,” she breathes. Her head tips back, eyes shut, lips parted. All her fight is gone now. She is lost to me, and I am dangerously close to being lost to her.
“Leah,” I breathe against the edge of her mouth. “So good for me. So pretty. So soft.” She melts against my chest.
I roll my hips and she groans again, and it undoes me. I fuck her against the shelves. Her cries are sharp with pleasure, and I can feel it sing down the unsealed bond to me. More, it urges. Give her more. This is what you were made to do.
I savor every seesaw of her breath, the wet slide of her cunt, and the full handfuls I can make of her hips. When she comes apart with me stuffed inside her, I fuck her through it and grit my teeth against the urge to bite her, to claim her, to keep her.
“More, little mate,” I urge. My voice is raw and my body is on fire, and when she comes again, she takes me with her, over the edge and nearly into blackness.
As we come down, I breathe against her neck with my lips firmly closed, and I tell myself that I will be fine when I let her go. It will not be the end of my spirit.
I am a liar.