Marked (4 page)

Uh-oh…

"Aren't you going to...” She hesitated, and looked up at him through her eyelashes.  He was watching her intently, and it made her swallow hard.  “…you know?"

"What do I know?"  A smirk curled one corner of his mouth. Okay, now he was toying with her.  She didn't want to vocalize her thoughts, but she did want to smack that look off of his face.  Tabitha growled.  "I know quite a few things," Russell continued, advancing on her. "And all the things I know tonight involve you and me, alone and naked."

And there it was.  Tabitha knew she had a good chance of being ripped limb from limb while in his bed but from that moment on, she didn't give a damn.  Her life for one night in his arms was a risk she was willing to take.  Russell picked up on the change in her scent and paused. His eyes shifted, darkened; refocused as something else entirely. He was quickly making the change from human to animal, and Tabitha had no idea what she was getting herself into.  She opened her mouth to speak, cleared her throat, and closed her mouth again.  Russell curled a large, warm hand around her elbow, and the touch nearly sent her into orbit.

"Come to me," he said, levering her forward to close the distance between them.  Tabitha sensed the shift in his demeanor from cordial host to hunter, and the impulse to run overtook her.  Magic bubbled and hissed in the air, uncontrolled by her wild emotions.  She suppressed the urge to pull it tight and shade herself. He'd already demonstrated his amazing olfactory ability and called her out.  It would only anger him to hide, she was certain.  "You smell of fear."

"I have good reason to," she said.  Russell's nostrils flared.  His eyes dilated just a fraction—just enough to give away his desire.

"Little Tabby better run," he growled, "lest the big, bad wolf eat her up."  As he spoke, he dropped her arm and shrugged out of his coat.  "If this is not what you want, go back inside now."  Her brain froze her body in place.  She wanted him in a way she'd never wanted another being, but she feared him; feared what he could do to her.  "Whichever way you intend to run, I suggest you do it now."  Pulling his tie from around his neck, he dropped it on top of his coat and kicked off his shoes.  Russell's gaze never left hers. 

Panic won out over reason, and led by her desire, Tabitha fled into the unfamiliar garden.  His laughter turned to a long, low howl, and it chased her through the labyrinth of hedges.  Her heart hammered against her ribcage and blood rushed in her ears.  Breath puffed from her lips in shallow pants, interspersed with her footfalls crushing the grass and gravel.  Every corner she turned held the anticipation of his face, the hope of ending this game and finally having him.  Part of her wanted the capture—to end the agony and be taken by him—but part of her feared the unknown result.  Feared what he would do when he finally caught her.

Only one way to find out.

Ducking into an alcove in the maze, Tabitha focused her energy.  She pulled her magic in tightly around her body and willed herself to disappear.  The shade wouldn't last long, but she was certain it wouldn't need to.  Russell couldn't be far behind, and he'd already made it clear he would find her by scent alone.  The thought thrilled her almost to the point where she dropped it and went to him.

Then what ran past her moments later was terrifying.  A large beast, wolf-like in form—the same one she'd spotted on the edge of the property earlier, she realized with a start—loped past with its nose to the ground.  Its fur was the same shaggy, chestnut-brown color of Russell's hair, but that it continued past made her pause and wonder exactly who or what it was.

Tabitha closed her eyes and willed her magic in closer around her.  If it wasn't Russell, then there was a good chance she would never be noticed.  There was an equal chance that her death had just blown past her as well.  The full moon was directly overhead now; she could feel its tug on her magic as the hour turned to midnight. Somewhere beyond the perimeter of his property, a church bell tolled.  In the distance of the house, Tabitha heard the first howls of the change, and wondered if her staff would be safe.  Surely Russell would not have let her leave them in danger...but then again, he'd lured her out here. To do what, she didn't yet know.

***

The scent of magic followed her, sparkling in the air like a beacon.  Finding her was no contest, but he hadn’t expected it to be.  He wanted her excited and scared, and she was both.  She was also aroused…he could smell the honey dripping from her sex before he ever ran past the spot where she thought she hid.  The scent called to him, tripped the beast’s trigger and nearly turned him inside out.  This little woman had the potential to be his downfall.  She was dangerous, because she was so tempting.

Backtracking around the alcove, Russell crept close, letting the sting of magic fill his nose and the heat of arousal bring him back to his human form.  To taste her…to have her… Just the thought gave him greater pleasure than he had known in centuries.

***

The magic gave out with a near-audible pop, and a soft noise startled her.  Tabitha's eyes flew open, and there, crouched a foot away from her, was Russell.  He appeared human, and he was naked, an intimidating erection partially shielded by his stance.

"Boo," he said, and launched himself at her.

They toppled backwards, her body hitting the dewy grass hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs as his mouth descended on hers.  There was no soft and tentative first kiss; his tongue glanced over her teeth and swept across her soft palate.  He tasted of fire and darkness.  His hands were everywhere at once, pinching and clawing and tearing and teasing.  His skin burned everywhere it touched.

Mindless with need, Tabitha writhed beneath his hands.  Low, guttural growls echoed against her skin, and her own moans responded.  Hot fingers scorched her flesh, pushing away the fabric of her shirt to bare her body to the moon.  Cool night air assaulted her, turning her uncovered nipples to small, pebbled peaks.  His tongue, rougher than she expected, brushed across one, then the other, drawing a strangled moan.

Her fingers tangled in his shaggy hair, tugging him back and forth over her, trying to put him everywhere at once.  "Russell..." she moaned, and it only reignited the frenzy in him.  As her clothes fell away, so did all rational thought.  Her mind became as primal as his actions.  He smelled of the forest, but felt like a man, strong and dominant above her as his hands sought out and caressed her most secret places.  His fingers burned a trail down her body and his mouth followed closely behind.  His raspy tongue left a wet trail on her skin, swirled around her navel, and slipped lower.

Tabitha twisted and squirmed, shrieking as his tongue trailed over the lips of her sex and pushed between, dragging across her clit.  With a raw cry of need, she tangled her fingers in his wild curls and jerked him into place, raising her hips against his mouth.  Each pass of his tongue drew a strangled moan from her, and each moan was answered with a growl from Russell.  He was brutal in his assault, laving and tugging at the sensitive bud of flesh caught between his teeth.  Shocks of pleasure chased through her body, coiling her tighter and tighter until Tabitha thought she would fly apart at the seams.  When his fingers slipped inside her, she found herself blinded with pleasure.  Her back arched and she cried out, the sound echoed by a dozen primal howls in the distance.

Over her, Russell grunted, and his large hands found her hips.  With one hard pull, Tabitha skidded across the grass, and he entered her with an answering thrust, filling and stretching her, and nearly burning her up from the inside out.  He was huge, bigger than any man she’d ever seen, much less been with, and the way he stretched her body bordered on pain.  Russell gave her no time to adjust, instead forcing himself into her again and again with brutal thrusts.  With one final moment of clarity, she caught his gaze. The well-mannered and slightly eccentric billionaire was gone, replaced with a maddened animal—the monster lurking beneath his smooth, tanned skin.  He snarled, and she answered with one of her own.

Tabitha dug her fingernails into his arms, fighting the urge to cry out as every movement drove shards of pleasure-pain through her body.  With each thrust he grew more frenzied, less fluid. Tabitha found a rhythm beneath him, raising her hips to meet his.  Each punishing slap of his hips brought the wiry curls at the base of his cock into contact with her much-abused clit.

Three deep, hard thrusts later, she shattered.  Her body contracted fiercely, fisting around his dick.  With a howl, Russell buried himself to the hilt, grinding against her rapidly contracting inner muscles, and came.  Warmth flooded her womb, prolonging the shivers of pleasure, each pulse of his orgasm sending more tingling sparklers through her body.  He sank his teeth into her shoulder, breaking the skin as the last of the pleasure faded.  Tabitha screamed in pain, her body still struggling to hold on to the remnants of sublime happiness. 

Slowly, her senses returned, and the air around them grew still and quiet save their combined and labored breathing.  No sound issued from the house, and for a brief moment Tabitha panicked, worried that Cera and their employees were in danger, or worse…but the warm, crushing weight of Russell’s body, the erratic pulse of his firm-but-softening cock still buried inside her, and his heavy breaths against her throat distracted her.  She groaned; his hips moved in small circles, reminding her that she was still trapped.

Her shoulder ached—bled, no doubt, but she didn’t dare look at it.  He’d marked her.  And he was still fucking her.

And she wanted it.  The soreness was already spreading through her lower body, but with each small movement of his hips, her wet channel grew more slick, sucked against him, drew him deeper.  She wanted to fight it.  She couldn’t come again…she would die.  But her body responded to him anyway, priming for another release.

Russell growled again, a sound that quickly turned to a groan as his eyes rolled back in his head, and he pulled away.  Tabitha gasped as the cool night air rushed over her, and fought the urge to cry out at the sudden emptiness that left her frustrated and wanting.  She shivered.

He muttered something unintelligible.  “Go inside,” he said to her questioning and slightly horrified gaze.  “Wait for me.”

Before her eyes—in movement her human gaze couldn’t follow—he shifted, taking the form of that same huge, auburn wolf.  Russell howled, the sound echoing again from the house, and disappeared into the garden.

“Weird,” Tabitha murmured, still shaking with the aftershocks of discovery and release, and reached for her discarded clothes.  Her pants weren’t a problem, but the white uniform shirt…that was another story.  Her mangled, aching shoulder trickled a steady stream of blood.  Her mind was so scattered that she couldn’t even grasp at her magic; she was so tightly wound and in need of another orgasm that she could not use her powers to repair the damage his teeth had wrought on her skin.  She had no choice but to bleed through the fabric. After all, she couldn’t go inside shirtless, now could she?

With a wince of pain, she pulled the shirt over her raw skin and watched in horror as a flower of blood bloomed on its surface.

Not that it mattered—grass stains crisscrossing her back already marred the smooth material.  Everyone would know what she had been doing as soon as they looked at her.  Hell, they would probably smell him on her.  Heaven knew she could still smell him on herself.

But where did this leave her? she wondered as she trudged back toward the house.  She had never done something so rash in her life… Tabitha knew she was not the one-night-stand type of girl.  So why had she done it?

Because she wanted him beyond what was rational.  She had braved deeper supernatural muck than she, herself was in at this particular moment.  Was it insane?  Yes.  Did she care?  Sort of.  Was she sorry it happened?

Not in the slightest.

***

As he ran, Russell tried to turn off the wild thoughts in his head.  The moon had peaked at the moment of his climax, and he had held on to his humanity only long enough to keep from tearing the poor witch’s throat out.

He could still taste her blood on his tongue, feel her lithe body wrapped around his, pulsing with release.  He hadn’t thought twice about sinking his teeth into her shoulder, leaving that mark on her skin.  The move felt so natural, and the taste of her blood flowing past his lips had only heightened what was already the most powerful orgasm of his not inconsiderable life.  He had bedded hundreds, if not thousands, of women in his time on earth, but never had one so easily wrested control away from him, dominated his senses with her very essence.

Had he infected her?

Not likely.  The bite wasn’t deep, and he was still in human form at the time.  Plus, she had witch blood flowing through her veins, so the magic would likely take care of whatever he might pass along.

The beast had control of his body now and felt the need to remind him of that. Its strange, feral thoughts whipped through his mind like rapid-fire bullets, breaking up his conscious train of thought.  The monster wanted to go find her and tear her apart in any number of ways, and twice he doubled back toward the house, yet stopped short.

He could not kill her.  He still wanted her too much.  Arousal scorched his veins more than the fever of frenzy.  Focusing on the memory of her bare body splayed beneath his, Russell pulled himself away from the beast.  He had used sex to stay the rage before…but he had never known it to dissipate a frenzy like this.

With each galloping stride, Russell felt more and more human again.  More male.  More aroused.  He focused on the feel of her body and the smell of her hair, the way she threw her head back and chewed her bottom lip when she was close…

Stopping in the alcove where they had made love—he could still smell sex in the air—he felt the last hold of the monster fall away.  He stood for a moment, weighing his options.  He could go to her, take her again and again until the moon began to wane.  He could stay in the garden and let the arousal die, which would only turn him back into the monster, and give it all the more reason to turn its ferocious thoughts back to the little witch.