Chapter Eight

 

 

Mariah led Marcus to a small path at the side of the stables, one she'd taken many times before. She smiled as a muttered curse broke the stillness—he must have trodden on a twig or something.

This was one of her favorite escapes on warm summer nights, but not one she'd ever shared with anyone else, especially not a man.

Within moments, they were among the trees and not long after she slowed her pace. "There. Look." She pointed as Marcus stood next to her.

Water gleamed as the waning moon rose, shining on a small pond within the shelter of the little forest surrounding it. This was a part of the country where heath and woodland met, mingled and then parted, leaving tufts of trees standing tall amidst the lower gorse bushes, broom and heather.

In one such cluster, a stream had found a place to rest, spread out and form a natural wading pool, not deep and still flowing, but angled so that the sun fell on it most of the day.

It was Mariah's answer to the bathing springs of Brighton, nature's way of presenting her with a chance to enjoy a warm tub alfresco. It had been her escape during her unfortunate marriage and now she was finally sharing it—willingly—with another.

Marcus.

"What do you think?" She glanced at him, trying to see his expression in the darkness. "It's warm, it's private..." Her voice trailed off.

"It's perfect." He flicked one finger across her cheek. "Let's get rid of these clothes and try it out."

Mariah's heart soared. This was what it was all about—sharing moments like this, being able to show someone special something special and have them understand without more words than necessary.

As she eagerly scrambled out of her dress and walked into the pond, Mariah swallowed harshly. Tears were close to the surface, although she was not sure why. Perhaps it was the leftover effect of the sex between them making her so emotional.

Perhaps it was the joy of sharing a private paradise with the one person who could appreciate it.

Or perhaps it was the fear that she'd never be able to withstand the pain saying goodbye to him would bring. And say goodbye she would. This nonsense about marriage—well, it was just that. Nonsense.

Then he splashed up behind her, put his arms around her and Mariah forgot everything but him.

"This is—divine." Marcus sounded relaxed. "Just what we needed." He tugged her hand and pulled her a little farther into the water, wading until it reached his navel.

Shaking off her odd mood, Mariah nodded. "Isn't it? Sometimes I'd bring my soap and towel. Other times, I just like to sit here and let it all drift around me."

"How deep does it get?"

"This is about as much water as I've seen. It's more of a spread in the stream than an actual pool. Of course, there's more in the winter or when we get a lot of rain. But then it's too cold to enjoy."

"But now—" Marcus dipped quickly beneath the surface and then came up sputtering and shaking himself. "Now it's just ideal."

"Mmm." Mariah bent low and moved her hands through the dark liquid, making swirls of little bubbles. "It is, isn't it? We're lucky tonight."

"Come on." His teeth flashed white in the moonlight. "Can you swim?"

"Of course." She smiled back. Few women were comfortable in the water, but Mariah had always adored it.

"Good." He dipped beneath the water once again and she felt strong arms loop around her knees, tugging her off balance.

She went under.

And came up laughing and spitting out hair. "God, Marcus. You devil." She lurched toward him, arms outstretched, only to sink again when he moved aside. She heard his laughter as the water filled her ears.

Hah. Staying submerged, she turned in his direction, reached in front of her and kicked hard, colliding rapidly with his thighs.

She hung on and surfaced, deliberately rubbing her body against his flaccid cock as she did so. He caught her up close to his chest.

"Water a little cold for you?" Mariah daringly grazed her hips against him.

"Hmm. Perhaps I need something to warm me."

He kissed her then, hard and fast, lips claiming her all over again, his taste lingering in the back of her throat, his scent filling her mind and her nostrils.

She felt the fires begin anew between her thighs and clearly Marcus wasn't unmoved, since his cock stirred to life against her belly.

Dragging her mouth from his, Mariah caught her breath. "You are dangerous. So dangerous. You make me want—"

"I want the same thing, darling. We're of the same mind. We always will be." Marcus lifted her and walked her backward through the water. "Put your legs around me."

Obediently, Mariah did as he asked, the pool supporting her along with Marcus' strong arms. She groaned a little at the pleasure of finding her pussy so close to his cock and fidgeted, obeying a need they both shared.

"Now? Here?" She whispered the words.

"Yes. Now and here. And always."

Always? Probably not. But now and here, yes. Definitely.

Mariah relaxed into Marcus' embrace, letting him guide her, touch her, stroke her back, kiss her breasts, whatever he wanted, he could have on this magic night.

She shivered at the way his cock grew against her sensitive flesh and at the desire she could feel burning inside her. It was so natural, so right when he lifted her and slid himself inside. They were both content to rest thus, joined in the only way a man and a woman could truly merge.

"This is heaven, Marcus." She whispered the words as her hair drifted around her shoulders, cradled in the embrace of a man she'd come to love so quickly it stunned her. She tried to grasp the moment, to savor it, to tuck it into her mind so she could recall it the rest of her life.

"Yes." He stared down at her. "Yes, Mariah. It is."

Then he moved—just the slightest abrasion of his cock against places within her that responded as if struck by lightning. She gasped and tightened her heels against his back.

"So's this." Marcus smiled, his face lit by moonshine, a pale oval surrounded by a cloud of tousled black hair. He looked like a dark angel, a warlock, a bringer of mystery and wonder who had escaped from her dreams. Or perhaps fulfilled her dreams.

She wasn't sure. And as he teased her further along the path to orgasm, she forgot what she'd asked herself in the first place.

She simply surrendered to his loving.

Softly, easily, with the sound of the waters a hushed accompaniment to the movement of their bodies, Mariah and Marcus rode each other to the brink of completion—a surprisingly gentle passion, different to the one they'd shared in the kitchen.

That had been all about fire and desperate need—this was all about the delight they could find in each other, with nothing spurring them to finish, to erupt in a boiling inferno of sated desires. There were so many facets to loving this man, so many different ways to express her feelings with her body. Mariah was swept up in the night and his arms, sailing willingly to the edge of a waterfall and knowing she'd be safe as they fell together into the chaos that awaited them.

It seemed that Marcus could sense the mood. His strokes were firm and sure, but not the savage thrusting with which he'd claimed her earlier. Now he was caressing her into her climax, staying with her, matching her, meeting her and leading them both with a sure and steady hand.

It gave Mariah chance to explore the sensation of his cock inside her body, letting her take a breath as he pulled back, then making her shudder as the ridges and swollen length of him slid home once more, stretching and filling her in ways that astounded her.

"Oohhh..." She barely breathed the word, a whisper of delight dancing on the water around them.

"Am I hurting you?"

"Oh no. Not at all." She found herself amazed, aroused and touched—not only where they were joined, but somewhere else, somewhere deep within her mind. "Marcus...this isn't like fucking, is it?"

She felt the ripples of his body as he shook his head. "No. It's not fucking anymore, Mariah. It's making love."

That was something to think about, the implications, the subtle nuances—when she had time, Mariah would examine these things at length. But right now she'd take whatever it was, go with the flow of Marcus' moves, his body, his cock and its steady rhythmic penetration.

"I feel like a wave on the ocean..."

"That's good."

"Yes, so good..." Her body tensed in spite of a sudden wish to prolong this idyll. Nature was going to take its course whether she wanted it to or not. "Marcus—"

"I know. I can feel you coming, love. Let go. Give it to me. Share it with me."

Taut and no longer floating, but held by Marcus' hands around her waist, Mariah gasped as the shudders began to flood her sex. She lifted her head a little, not so much worried about slipping beneath the surface, but more anxious to see Marcus this time, to watch—if there was enough moonlight—to share his expressions as she came around him.

His teeth gleamed as his lips curled back into a strained grimace, but he never broke his pace, never pushed to go faster. He was almost inhuman in his focus, his concentration, eyes fixed to where they melded into one.

She wished she could see too, see his cock sliding away from her body, then back between her pussy lips to fill her again. Perhaps next time she would—if there was a next time—

Her body demanded Mariah's attention and her mind blanked as the orgasm swept inexorably onward.

Marcus was with her.

The heat of his desire had been eased a little by their earlier loving, so he was able to take his time and enjoy not just the sensation of Mariah welcoming him into her body, but the soft sounds of the night around them and the unique lap of the water as it rippled across their own private pond.

He moved with her, loving the whimpers and growls she uttered as her tension rose once more, keeping his movements steady and pleasurable for them both. It was different this time, easier, softer, yet every bit as amazing as the first time he'd taken her on this journey.

Would he ever tire of this? He couldn't imagine doing so. He now understood Rowan Selkirk's inability to forget Thérèse. He understood why his friends at St. Chesswell's had suffered so much and yet fought on for each other and their mates.

Perhaps he even understood himself better, his own capacity to love. Until this time, he'd not even considered an emotion like this. He couldn't. He'd been dying.

A streak of pleasure flamed from his cock up through his body to land smack in his heart. It was the most extraordinary moment, an epiphany of sorts, a painfully exquisite feeling that made Marcus gulp down a lump of passion that seemed lodged in his throat.

Mariah's inner muscles stroked and squeezed and moved around him in a paroxysm of release, an encouragement and an invitation to him to follow.

Finally picking up his pace a little, it took only a few strokes before he did.

He found, to his surprise, that he was filling her once again, emptying his seed into her, overflowing her tight passages, soaking her within as she was soaked outside. He wondered if they were making a child together in this magic moment, if his explosion was creating a new life.

Inside Mariah.

He hoped so. Visions of a family were now a thing to be anticipated, cherished, awaited with hope and knowledge that a future for them all existed. He could see Mariah round with his child, her belly holding the life they'd made together. Would he be a good father? He had no idea. But he was, for the first time ever, ready to find out.

"Er, Marcus?"

A question from the mother of his children-to-be distracted him. "Huh?"

"You still there? I think you drifted off somewhere else for a minute or two."

He grinned and eased away, letting Mariah's legs fall through the water so that she could support her own weight. "Never. I was just savoring the moment."

"Mmm. There was a lot to savor." She shivered. "But I will admit that it's getting a little chilly."

"Agreed."

Pulled from his fantasy, Marcus also sensed the chill of the night replacing the warm breeze and he hurried Mariah into her dress and back to the house. They laughed and dried themselves off, tidying away their damp clothing and finally snuggling together in Mariah's bed.

They were both tired and Marcus knew he'd sleep well. There would be no more sexual adventures for the moment. But there was one thing he needed to do.

"Mariah—are you still awake?"

The head on his shoulder turned. "Mmm hmm. Just very relaxed." She brushed his naked chest with her lips.

"Me too." He settled himself more comfortably on the pillow. "I want to tell you a story."

She chuckled. "How lovely. I haven't had a bedtime story in so long, I can't remember when the last one was."

"Good. I think you'll find this one—intriguing." He sobered. "And it's true."

"All right. So...once upon a time..." she began for him.

"Once upon a time, there was an evil creature masquerading as a beautiful woman. Her name was Thérèse and she lived in the depths of Europe..."

Marcus spun his tale, leaving out nothing, relating how he'd met Thérèse in Rogaška, how she'd seduced him and what she'd been beneath her beauty. He talked of his mortal illness, a disease of the blood that had put a time limit on his life.

And he told her of Rowan, their bond and the events that finally freed them all, including him.

By the time he'd finished, the moon had set and the sky was dark. He could not see Mariah's face, but he could sense her stillness, the rapid beat of her heart as she absorbed the fantastic tale that had been his life.

"Can this be true?" She whispered the words.

"All of it. It sounds unbelievable, I know. But I lived it. Rowan and Thérèse are settled farther down the coast. St. Chesswell's is a real place and I can assure you that Sir Sidney, Adrian, Katherine, Nick, Verity—they're all quite real."

"It's—incredible." She moved then, reaching for his chest. "There is no mark of the sword, no scar—"

"No, nothing. Just two tiny lines on my neck where I was bitten so very long ago. You wouldn't notice them unless I pointed them out."

"And you're quite recovered? You no longer suffer from your illness?"

"Completely cured, according to Sir Sidney. And I trust him. He's a scientist of great knowledge and also a good friend."

"I'm—stunned." Mariah's head moved. "I scarce know what to say. It sounds like a legend. But you—you really met all these people? These—vampires?"

"It's all true. Every word." Marcus sighed. "It's most strange how life and death can become merged and then reshape themselves into something quite new."

Mariah yawned. "I need to think about it all, Marcus. I need time to try to understand."

"I know. Sleep now."

"For sure I shall have nightmares." She moved closer.

"Then I shall hold you until they pass."

"To think how close you came to death..." Her voice was fatigued and she yawned again. "And how close I came to never knowing you. Never loving you..."

Marcus stilled. She loved him? Or did she simply mean the sexual things they'd done?

He would have asked her, but a tiny snuffle told him she'd succumbed to exhaustion. It had been a long day, capped by extraordinary sex. He supposed telling her he'd been bitten by a vampire wasn't quite enough to keep her awake much longer.

But he'd bet she'd have more questions in the morning.

With a smile on his lips, Marcus closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep with the pleasant knowledge that his heart pillowed the woman he wanted more than anything.

For a man who'd experienced so much that was strange and deadly, it was—for once—a moment that he could simply classify as "perfect".