He turned to her, hands on her hips, and looked at her with concern. When he looked at her with such intimacy and so much true concern, it made her heart contract. “Don’t you need to rest?”
“Don’t you need to eat?”
A slow smile filled his otherwise weary face. “Ah,” he said. “That I do, but not near as much as you need to rest. It will be time to meet the child sooner than later.”
“I know,” she whispered. Time was wearing on her like a heavy cloak. “Why don’t you eat while you explain what’s going on. Until you do that, I won’t rest anyway.”
“Okay. You get in bed and I will sit with you while I eat.”
She looked at him, wondering if he knew how he tended to order rather than ask. He smiled. This time a true, reach-the-eyes kind of smile. “Please.”
She smiled. “That’s better. Okay, I’ll get in bed if you eat.” His brow inched upward. Despite the heaviness of her mood, she found herself laughing. “Please eat.”
“Okay,” he said. “Since you put it that way.”
A few minutes later Marcella watched Diego swallow the last bite of his second sandwich before reaching for a third. “So David will survive?”
“His chances are much higher. I can’t promise anything. I can’t fully convert him until we get him back to my home lab.”
“You’re taking him to Nevada?” she asked. “You don’t even like him.”
He took his plate and set it on the nightstand and then turned to her. “It’s never been about like or dislike.”
“Then what is it about?” she asked. Everything was so confusing. Diego was like her cornerstone but she hardly knew him.
“You. It’s all about you.”
“But what if he doesn’t want to go?”
“The option is death.”
She swallowed, feeling his words like a cold chill down her spine. “Because he needs the rest of this…this transformation?”
“That’s part of it,” he said, “but like you he is now a target. He will never live in peace. He might as well fight.”
Everything she knew was gone. Nothing would ever be the same. She’d lived such an uprooted life as it was. Any form of stability felt important. “What if I don’t want to go?”
“Marcella, you know it’s not an option. You have to go.”
Suddenly all the pressure she was under surfaced. “I don’t have to do anything.”
He reached for her but she shrugged out of reach and threw the covers back. “You belong with me,” he said.
She glared at him. “Says who?”
His eyes narrowed. “You feel our connection.”
“Because you make me feel it. Maybe it’s some trick of the mind. Stop screwing with my future. David wouldn’t even be hurt if it wasn’t for you.” She felt manipulated and a part of a big game. Like a token someone was moving around. “Did you convert him so I’d have to go to Nevada?”
His eyes flashed with surprise. “I saved him to make you happy. And I didn’t make the Arions come. I stopped them from getting to you.”
She didn’t know what to believe anymore. “Maybe they followed you. Or maybe you’re one of them.”
“Marcella—”
“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t tell me one more thing I have to know or do. Nothing.”
She pushed off the bed before he could reach for her again. Walking to the window, she shoved the curtain aside. And she found a wall. Nothing but a wall painted with a picture of trees and flowers. A fake exterior so those on the lower level could pretend to have the freedoms and beauty of the other visitors.
She felt completely trapped.
Leaning against the window, palms flat on the hot surface, she let her head drop between her shoulders. She forced a deep breath. In. Out. All her life she’d been restricted. She couldn’t just live and experience the freedoms of normal people. For the first time since she was very young, she wondered what that might feel like. And she had never, ever questioned what fate had delivered her.
Healing was her world. Her life. Her reason for existing. Somehow she’d made that okay. But now things didn’t seem so acceptable. It was as if all the restrictions and forced confinements of her existence had crashed down on top of her. And the very fact that Diego made her want him bothered her. She didn’t want to want him. She didn’t want to go to Nevada. She didn’t want David to be near death in the next room. What she wanted was the peace of a few days before. To get back the feeling of comfort she thought ruled her decisions.
And then he was there. Diego. A stranger who felt like the only form of peace she could find. Yet he also demanded and forced her actions. As much as he called to her, even claimed her as his mate, she wasn’t sure if she should trust him. How could she simply give herself to a man who she’d only just met? With the craziness that had erupted around her, it was hard to know what was real and what was false.
Suddenly Diego was there, hands flattening on her stomach. Hips pressing into her backside. She felt the warmth of his breath on her neck and then her ear. Emotion and sensation erupted. The warmth. The sizzle. The complete way he pulled her to him with so little effort. He simply took her by storm.
“I know this is confusing,” he murmured. “I wish I could make it easier.”
She leaned back into him and her arm went up, around his neck. No matter how she wanted to resist and question his motives, she couldn’t. Not when he was touching her. Mate or not, she wanted him in a way no other man had ever evoked.
“Stop acting like you own me,” Marcella whispered, but even as she issued the command, she turned to him.
Their lips met and there was no gentleness on either part. She was burning with not only need but also emotion, combustible in its urgency to escape. His tongue slid against hers with a deep thrust, primal and possessive. He was claiming her without words. And damn it, she answered without hesitation, feeling wilder than she had before. She pressed her body into his, reveled at the feel of his hands sliding over her skin. Touching her legs, her hips, her back, and then finally, yes…her breasts. And she wanted them to stay there. Marcella’s hands went to his hands, urging him to touch her.
He kneaded the sensitive mounds as she arched into his palms. But it wasn’t enough. She reached for her shirt and he helped her tug it over her head. With no bra on, she was ripe for his viewing in a matter of moments. He stood there, staring down at her, his eyes as hot as his touch. Her nipples tightened with painful bliss as his eyes ravished her. And when his fingers touched them, she moaned with the relief and need it created.
“Harder,” she demanded, hardly recognizing her voice or the boldness she simply couldn’t hold back.
He pinched them, and the jolt of heat shot to her core. The slick wetness of arousal clung to her panties. “Enough?” he asked, his voice hoarse with a sensual hum.
“No,” she said, her hands on his wrists as she tried to stabilize herself. “More.”
He tugged at her peaks and twisted slightly. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.” But it was so good she thought she would fall. He reacted to her unspoken need and lifted her, his hands cupping her ass. She wrapped her legs around his body, grateful for the steadiness of the bed as he sat her on the edge. He reached for her pants and tugged them down her legs. She wore no panties and was glad. Parting her legs the minute she was free, she invited him into the V of her body. And he was there, hands exploring, and mouth on her neck and shoulder and, God yes, her nipple. Teeth scraping…lips playing.
But as he started to slide farther downward, she had a sudden burst of realization. He was taking her control again and she was letting him. What power might she have over him? Perhaps she needed to find out just what could be done to even the playing field. His fingers slid along the slick folds of her aroused core and she bit back a sound. If she didn’t act now, she’d be lost.
Her hands tightened on his head, and he looked up at her. A primal look danced in his eyes, raw and seductive. He was male pe
rfection. She took a deep breath. The thought of taking charge of such a powerful beast—and at the moment that was what he reminded her of—was becoming highly erotic.
“Stand up,” she said, firm with her tone.
His eyes narrowed. “I’m not through yet.”
Her brow lifted. “Yes, you are. Stand up.”
* * * * *
A slow smile just barely lifted his lips before he did as she said. She moved then and pressed her knees into the mattress. “Get undressed.”
There was no hesitation. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and gave her a delicious view of his chest. Dark hair sprinkled warm milk chocolate skin. Muscles formed a V tapering to his waist and rippling abs teased with the promise of where they led.
She slid off the bed and to his feet. On her knees, she pressed her lips to his navel and dipped her tongue in it. Her hands wrapped his hips and she palmed his taut ass. His hands went to her hair, and she heard a soft sound escape his lips. She smiled as her hand slid to his cock and cupped it. Tracking the head with her fingers, she reached for the laces of one of his boots. Eager to touch him but just as eager to get him naked.
She imaged touching his body…holding him in her palm and feeling the throb of his arousal. It pressed her urgently, and she reached for the other boot. Moments later, she looked up at him. “Get rid of them.”
He used his feet to kick one off and then the other. She reached for the band of his jeans. “These too.”
Soon all barriers were gone. Diego stood before her, his cock long, hard and ready.
Just as she was.
Marcella wrapped her arms around his calves and slowly arched her back so that her tongue touched the tip of his erection. His cock jumped and she smiled. Power. She’d never known it with a man. It was a high. Absolute fire in her veins.
And it made her want to make this last. She slid around him until she was behind his body, still at his feet. And then she stood. Her hands cupped his ass and then slid around his hips as she pressed her breasts into his back. Her teeth scraped the skin. But he was impatient, tugging her around his body and pulling her against his chest. His mouth closed down on hers, ravishing her with a deep plunge of his tongue.
Her hand went to his cock and closed around it. He moaned against her lips and she began pumping him. “Feel good?” she asked in a whispered voice.
“You know it does.”
She sucked his bottom lip between her teeth as her fingers found the soft tip of his erection and spread the wetness now present. Her nipples tightened in reaction. Knowing he was this turned on because of her was burning her up. She reached for his hands and pressed them against her breasts, shutting her eyes with the pure bliss of being in his palms.
But she only allowed herself a few seconds to feel. Otherwise she might get lost. There was still too much to do. Too much to feel. Over the edge now would be too soon.
She sank back to her knees and again grabbed his calves and touched her tongue to him. Then immediately, before he had time to know what hit him, she circled his head with a flat rough swoosh of her tongue. She looked up at him as she trailed her tongue around and up and down as if he were an ice cream cone. He looked at her, eyes potent with arousal. It turned him on to see his cock in her mouth.
To her amazement, she could feel the wetness between her legs, sizzling with her own burn. She liked this too. Her palms inched up his legs to the back of his powerful thighs. And then his perfect, tight ass. Damn, she liked the man’s backside. She caressed it, enjoyed the way he flexed in response. Then she moved her hand and circled his cock with her fingers. He let out a heavy breath as if he’d been holding it, waiting for this moment. Instantly, his hands were on her head. Marcella liked that too. It told her he felt urgent.
She squeezed the base and sucked him deeper into her mouth. A little. Another inch. Slow. Downward she went. Taking him fully until her wet lips connected with her index finger.
His hands went to her hair. She slowly slid back down his length and he arched into her. He pushed his big cock back into her mouth, as if he was afraid she wouldn’t do it herself. Marcella sucked harder, loving the power she had to make him feel urgent. To make him fear she wouldn’t give him what he wanted. Taking him again as he thrust. Once. Twice. Over and over he moved in and out.
Until he pressed into her mouth with a heavy push of his hips and tossed his head back, a roar of release slipping from his lips.
* * * * *
Diego knew Marcella had just tried to fight the power he had over her with…well, power.
And he liked it. If she wanted to share control on some things, he had no problem with it. Unless it impacted her safety, it was fine by him. On the other hand, he believed in give and get. She had just pleasured him and he damn sure wanted a satisfied mate.
Marcella pushed to her feet and he didn’t give her a chance to escape. He slid his arms under her legs and picked her up. “What are you doing?” she asked, startled.
He smiled at her. “Taking you to bed with me where you belong.” He shoved back the blankets and settled her on the mattress. She scrambled to a sitting position.
He stared at her, his brow lifting. “Running? Now why would that be?”
“We need to talk, Diego.”
He looked at her breasts, high and full, nipples peaked, and felt the hunger of his beast begin to roar again. He’d never get enough of her. “Later. Let’s finish what we started first.” He started towards her.
She pointed. “Stay right there. I want to talk.”
Forcing a deep breath, he tried to pull his body back into control. This was clearly important to her. But his cock was already full and pumping with life. He watched her eyes drop.
“I can’t help what you do to me,” he said. “But if talking is important we will talk.”
He sat on the bed and she scooted farther away. “Marcella, I will never force you to do what you don’t want. You have no need to run from me.”
Her eyes flashed. “I’m not running.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No…” She pursed her lips and reached for the sheet, tugging it over her body. “I need to rest.”
“I thought you wanted to talk.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” she bit out through clenched teeth.
Suddenly, Diego felt like a complete ass. He’d mated with Marcella because he knew it was an extra line of defense. He would be stronger and she would be more powerful. But forcing the emotional components of their bond was something he couldn’t justify. Everything that had just happened between them had been about Marcella trying to regain control over her life.
Something she perceived he had taken.
“Marcella, honey, I’m not trying to do anything to you. And I don’t want to pressure you.” He reached for his pants.
“Are…are you leaving?”
Diego gave her a reassuring look. “No. I’m going to sit on that chair in the corner and let you rest.” He used his chin to motion towards the bed. “Rest. I’ll be here if you need me.”
She stared at him a long moment and then slid down under the blankets. He walked to the wall and flipped the light off. Then he went to the corner chair and sat down. The physical part of their relationship was hard to fight for either of them. But emotional part was another story. He owed her time to adjust and allow herself to understand what she felt.
And he was going to give it to her. His head fell back against the back of his seat and he let his eyes close. Her smell was soft and feminine and it called to him. He so wanted to hold her and tell her he loved her. But he knew he had to give her this space. As tempting as it was, he didn’t even allow himself to reach for her mind. Yet he felt the warmth of her presence and knew she touched his. And he let her. This was his mate. She needed to see he was true in his feelings.
“Diego?”
“Yes?”
“You need to rest too.”
“I’m fine. I am.”
S
ilence.
“Come lay with me,” she whispered.
He sat up and found her doing the same. “I’m fine here.”
“I want you to.”
Diego wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Come lay with me.”
He pushed to his feet and walked towards her. She lifted the blanket and he stopped beside the bed. Leaving his clothes on seemed the best way to offer her the security of control. He slid down beside her, on his back, and smiled as she snuggled to his side.
His hand stroked her hair, and the warmth of their connection washed over him. “Goodnight, Marcella.”