up while you are at it! You are so young...”
Marcus shot to
his feet and sauntered toward her. He looked thunderous and dangerous and
entirely sensuous. Even his slight limp added to his dark appeal. Her gaze
moved over his impressive chest. Bands of sinew and muscles moved in
synchronicity with his sexy glide. Logan took a few steps in reverse until her
back hit the wall.
“You’d prefer a
long-in-the-fang Vampire you can sit in front of the fire and reminisce about
the signing of the Magna Carta, I suppose. You apparently don’t want a man
young enough to make you feel—anything.” Marcus slapped his free hand flat
against the wall by her head and leaned in close. “Or is it because I’m too
fucking ugly for you? Look close, Faepyre, ‘ the beauty of the
dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart’.”
The quote was pure Mary Shelley, right from Frankenstein . Logan gulped.
“Maybe I should get one of those half-face
masks, like the World War I sniper in that HBO show,” Marcus continued. “Or
maybe I’ll buy a great scary hound and live in a gloomy castle where I can
skulk in the shadows never to see sunlight or civilization again.”
Logan cupped his face. There was such a contrast
between the puckered, damaged side and the smooth, beautiful one. Marcus
flinched when her fingers touched his scars.
“Stop it, Marcus. Just ... stop.”
She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed
him. The contact was as
scorching as their previous kiss. His lips were full, soft, and imminently
nibble-worthy. At first, Marcus did not respond, but then he moaned and
deepened the kiss, his tongue plunging deep and masterfully taking control. His
delicious scent of aged oak, cloves, and leather overcame her once again. The
Mate Bond?
Why did she care?
She did not want the beast-boy attached to her in any way. But Logan did care.
Blessed sea mother, she cared very much. How did her emotions toward him
develop so fast?
He leaned his
body against hers, and his massive erection pressed against her stomach. How
can he be hard already? Wasn’t he just sated by Lucius?
As if reading her
mind, Marcus murmured, “This has nothing to do with the Blood Lust. It’s you,
Logan. I want you. I ache to be buried deep within. Your scent, so enticing...”
Scent? So it was the Mate Bond! As quickly as her
desire appeared, fear replaced it. She pushed hard at his chest, and Marcus
stumbled back, far enough she could make her escape.
She ran out of
the room, down the stairs and outside toward the water. Without caring who may
be nearby, she stripped off and dove into the ocean. Adjusting her breathing,
the cold sting of the salt water prickled her skin and revitalized and calmed
her torment. This inward struggle over her needs, desires, and duties could not
continue. Logan swam toward the horizon and oblivion.
****
Dinner time came, and there was no sign of
Logan. Brennan brought him a type of beef stew. He managed a few spoonfuls
before his stomach roiled and he pushed it aside. He tried watching The Sea Hawk , but couldn’t concentrate
on it. So much had happened today. Marcus glanced at the Blackthorne Clan ring
still sitting on the end table. He
didn’t realize how much he wanted to belong to anything or anyone. But the
Clan, for all their welcoming, still seemed like an unattainable goal.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts, and his
heart banged against his ribcage, hoping it might be Logan. The door opened and
Raylene Nightwood stepped in. Marcus flushed immediately with embarrassment. He
hadn’t seen her since the night at The Rusty Anchor Pub when he came on to her
while they danced. Well, truth be told, she touched him first. They were both
angry with Deegan and turned to each other briefly for solace until Deegan
barrelled in and almost put him through the wall. After they had left was when
he picked up Raylene’s brother, Julian, and took him back to his hotel room and
the nightmare began.
Marcus shot to
his feet and sauntered toward her. He looked thunderous and dangerous and
entirely sensuous. Even his slight limp added to his dark appeal. Her gaze
moved over his impressive chest. Bands of sinew and muscles moved in
synchronicity with his sexy glide. Logan took a few steps in reverse until her
back hit the wall.
“You’d prefer a
long-in-the-fang Vampire you can sit in front of the fire and reminisce about
the signing of the Magna Carta, I suppose. You apparently don’t want a man
young enough to make you feel—anything.” Marcus slapped his free hand flat
against the wall by her head and leaned in close. “Or is it because I’m too
fucking ugly for you? Look close, Faepyre, ‘ the beauty of the
dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart’.”
The quote was pure Mary Shelley, right from Frankenstein . Logan gulped.
“Maybe I should get one of those half-face
masks, like the World War I sniper in that HBO show,” Marcus continued. “Or
maybe I’ll buy a great scary hound and live in a gloomy castle where I can
skulk in the shadows never to see sunlight or civilization again.”
Logan cupped his face. There was such a contrast
between the puckered, damaged side and the smooth, beautiful one. Marcus
flinched when her fingers touched his scars.
“Stop it, Marcus. Just ... stop.”
She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed
him. The contact was as
scorching as their previous kiss. His lips were full, soft, and imminently
nibble-worthy. At first, Marcus did not respond, but then he moaned and
deepened the kiss, his tongue plunging deep and masterfully taking control. His
delicious scent of aged oak, cloves, and leather overcame her once again. The
Mate Bond?
Why did she care?
She did not want the beast-boy attached to her in any way. But Logan did care.
Blessed sea mother, she cared very much. How did her emotions toward him
develop so fast?
He leaned his
body against hers, and his massive erection pressed against her stomach. How
can he be hard already? Wasn’t he just sated by Lucius?
As if reading her
mind, Marcus murmured, “This has nothing to do with the Blood Lust. It’s you,
Logan. I want you. I ache to be buried deep within. Your scent, so enticing...”
Scent? So it was the Mate Bond! As quickly as her
desire appeared, fear replaced it. She pushed hard at his chest, and Marcus
stumbled back, far enough she could make her escape.
She ran out of
the room, down the stairs and outside toward the water. Without caring who may
be nearby, she stripped off and dove into the ocean. Adjusting her breathing,
the cold sting of the salt water prickled her skin and revitalized and calmed
her torment. This inward struggle over her needs, desires, and duties could not
continue. Logan swam toward the horizon and oblivion.
****
Dinner time came, and there was no sign of
Logan. Brennan brought him a type of beef stew. He managed a few spoonfuls
before his stomach roiled and he pushed it aside. He tried watching The Sea Hawk , but couldn’t concentrate
on it. So much had happened today. Marcus glanced at the Blackthorne Clan ring
still sitting on the end table. He
didn’t realize how much he wanted to belong to anything or anyone. But the
Clan, for all their welcoming, still seemed like an unattainable goal.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts, and his
heart banged against his ribcage, hoping it might be Logan. The door opened and
Raylene Nightwood stepped in. Marcus flushed immediately with embarrassment. He
hadn’t seen her since the night at The Rusty Anchor Pub when he came on to her
while they danced. Well, truth be told, she touched him first. They were both
angry with Deegan and turned to each other briefly for solace until Deegan
barrelled in and almost put him through the wall. After they had left was when
he picked up Raylene’s brother, Julian, and took him back to his hotel room and
the nightmare began.
Similar Books
