Chapter 31
Sandra
I hear Ethan enter the cabin, his footsteps echoing on the wooden floor as he heads towards the bedroom. I'm already here, curled up in feline form next to Mark, unable to do anything but wait.
Ethan approaches the bed, watches him for a moment before asking:
"Did he wake up at any point?"
I want to say yes. He called out to me, opened his eyes, but they were unfocused, muttered disconnected words, and went back to sleep. But in this form, I can't answer, I just meow.
Ethan sighs and places his bag on the dresser.
"I'm going to clean him up..."
I stretch before sliding out of bed and going downstairs, leaving them alone, giving Mark some privacy. I wait in the living room, listening to the sound of running water and their muffled murmurs. My claws scratch lightly at the carpet as I try to dispel the feeling of helplessness.
I want to do more for him. I want to...
A rustling arises within me, my essence slipping through that opening in the barrier, and before I can think too much, I walk to the bathroom downstairs and transform. I shudder at the change and grab the nearest towel to cover myself.
"I need clothes..." I murmur to myself.
The dress and boots I hid outside are dirty. I prefer to borrow another of Mark's shirts; I like to feel his scent on me. Before going upstairs, I grab one of the nourishing potions I left in the fridge and take it with me.
"Ah, you managed to transform. I was just about to go downstairs to get the potion anyway," Ethan comments, looking satisfied.
"Yeah... I don't know how or why I can do it, but... I'm relieved to finally be myself, even if only for a few moments."
I hand him the potion and go to Mark's wardrobe, grabbing some clothes before getting dressed in the bathroom. When I come back, my attention falls on the man in bed.
"Did he react while showering?" I ask.
"Yes. He recognised me and got up with my help.
Which was good, because I don't have the strength to carry his weight alone.
" He seems embarrassed by this realisation.
"I managed to get him to brush his teeth and take a shower, but he was dazed, babbling things I didn't understand.
As soon as I settled him in bed, he went back to sleep.
“ What about his injuries?”
"The injuries on his arms and legs are already in the maturation phase, so I removed the stitches.
But the ones on his torso are still in the initial phase.
.." Ethan turns to me, looking as exhausted as I am.
"I think his essence will mend his broken ribs first, but it's not enough to continue the healing process right now.
So Mark is getting stronger, little by little, but he is.
I breathe a sigh of relief and sit down on the edge of the bed next to him.
"Do you mind if I sleep on the sofa again?" Ethan asks. "I want to be nearby when he wakes up."
"Of course not, feel free."
My hunger manifests itself. I haven't eaten anything since breakfast and I didn't have time to prepare anything for my feline form before I was dragged into the transformation.
I go downstairs with Ethan, we make a sandwich and eat before each going our separate ways.
I brush my teeth, take a shower, and finally lie down with Mark, being careful not to touch his injuries. He occupies the middle of the huge bed, so I settle down on his uninjured side.
I turn on my side to watch him and bite my lip. My hand finds his face, gently tracing his jawline to his neck, then down to his chest, where I rest my palm over his heart.
I gasp when large fingers wrap around my wrist and, in a blur of movement, Mark advances on me, pressing me against the mattress.
His golden eyes, alert and lucid, are fixed on mine. His breathing is heavy, rapid; his lips parted, his canines elongated. He lowers his face, advancing towards my neck.
By the stars, how could I have been so stupid?
Touching him, sleeping next to him after he had been brutally injured...
He must have woken up in combat mode, instinctively.
My body stiffens, and I close my eyes, anticipating the tear of sharp teeth or claws lacerating my throat.
But the attack never comes.
Instead, he sniffs me, growling as he brushes his teeth against my skin. His warm tongue slides over the frantic pulse of my jugular, and then...
"Kitten," he growls, and my eyes widen.
His lips brush my jaw, moving up to the corner of my mouth.
I gasp, and my legs instinctively open, allowing him to settle more comfortably between them.
Mark supports part of his weight on one arm and moves his face slightly away, his eyes merging with mine.
The intensity I find in them takes my breath away.
The hand that was holding my wrist slides to my face, his fingers tracing a fiery path to my lower lip. He caresses it with his thumb, provocatively, before cupping my chin, tilting my face upwards.
"I can finally do this..." he growls, and then his lips collide with mine.
A surprised sound escapes my throat, muffled against his mouth.
Mark lets out a tremulous sigh against my lips, his fingers pressing my face more firmly as his tongue slides over my upper lip.
He moans into my mouth and heat spreads through my body, my hand sliding to the back of his neck, burying my fingers in his silky strands, and I kiss him back.
A shiver of desire runs through my body, growing as our tongues meet and an intense tightening forms in my belly, a raw craving taking hold of me.
His taste captivates me. Intense, with a wild edge that makes me want more. It's addictive. A flavour that makes my skin tingle and ignites something dangerous inside me — something I can't name, but that consumes me.
His lips are warm and soft, his tongue sliding against mine, burning.
I kiss him harder, more moans escaping against his mouth, and he devours them, tangling his fingers in my hair until my roots throb, but instead of pain, pleasure courses through me, setting every part of me ablaze with overwhelming intensity.
When he sucks my tongue and bites my lower lip right after, any remnant of control I had left dissolves.
I arch my hips in a desperate reflex, my hands sliding down his waist until I grab him tightly, pulling him against me. The shock of our bodies pressed together makes me gasp, my heart pounding inside my chest.
The pulsing heat of his rigid member brushes against my intimacy, the delicious friction sending waves of pleasure that make my muscles tremble.
My body gives way, my mind clouds over, my desire turning into a feverish, liquid, desperate numbness.
"Mark!" I moan softly into his mouth as he rubs his cock, still covered by his sweatpants, against me, right where I need it most, massaging my clitoris.
He growls and his kiss becomes more desperate, wild.
I've never been kissed like this, as if I were being possessed, claimed.
It's too intense and, at the same time, not enough.
I can barely breathe. Mark pulls away just enough for me to suck in a breath before his lips take mine again, voraciously.
It's as if I've unleashed something fierce inside him.
He kisses me as if he's starving, as if I'm essential, something he can't afford to lose.
And I feel the same way. A delicious shiver runs through my skin as his eager hand slides over every inch it can reach, down my waist, squeezing my hip tightly, up my belly, tracing my body until it reaches my left breast. His fingers brush my nipple before moving up to the nape of my neck, pressing my skin in a grip that oscillates between need and tenderness.
But I don't want tenderness.
I want this raw hunger.
I slide my hands down his back until I reach his shoulders, my fingers digging in deep enough for him to feel my urgency, my nails digging into his bare skin.
Mark lets out a low, fierce growl.
He pushes his hips against me harder, and his fingers, previously firm on the back of my neck, slide upwards, moving just enough to entangle themselves in my hair. Then he pulls firmly, forcing my head back as his hot, hungry mouth finds my neck.
His teeth scrape my skin, his tongue tasting, sucking...
"Mark!" I moan loudly, my hips meeting his in an increasingly intense rhythm. His cock hits that delicious spot, sending a shiver down my spine. My pussy throbs, soaking the fabric of his boxer shorts that I'm wearing.
I'm so lost in the moment that I barely notice, or even hear, Ethan entering the room. His footsteps are muffled by our moans and hurried breathing.
"Ahhh... sorry, I thought..." Ethan's voice echoes in the room.
We both stop abruptly, startled, and look towards the doorway.
Ethan clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable.
"Well, I'll leave you two alone," he says, already turning his back on us.
A wave of embarrassment washes over me, and a nervous laugh escapes my lips. My face burns with shame. Mark, without saying a word, presses his forehead against mine, letting out a heavy breath, before collapsing to the side, pressing on his injured ribs.
I see the grimace of pain appear on his face.
"Are you all right? Oh, for heaven's sake, you're hurt!" I exclaim, concern overwhelming me.
He tries to smile, but the effort makes me worry even more.
"I'm fine, I just... lost my breath for a moment," he says, turning his face to face me.
My gaze drops to his shoulders and I gasp, feeling tears of guilt sting my eyes.
"And I still scratched you..."
"I loved feeling your claws on me, Kitten." He holds my chin, forcing me to look at him again. "Don't even think about apologising for that."
My cheeks burn from the intensity of his gaze.
I just nod, lost in the expression of pride and possession stamped on his face. His eyes shine like molten gold, and the silence between us stretches out, filling the space with an intensity that seems to last an eternity.
We are locked in each other's gaze, neither of us looking away. And in that moment, nothing else exists. Just him and me.
But I need to break the silence, I need to know.