Part 10 (1/2)

”I brought someone to help bind your powers so you will not feel so weak,” Marcello said. He gently lifted her off the floor.

His tenderness surprised her.

”A chef?” Tatiana asked, beyond laughing at the joke. Her eyes looked up, seeing his handsome face. Every time she saw him, he took her breath away, leaving her longing for the dark. At least at night, she could imagine him as the monster he was.

A light moan came from her lips as he carried her effortlessly in his arms. Tatiana watched the fire contrasting his features.

When he didn't smile, which was often, his face looked stern and foreboding. He stared deeply into her eyes and stopped walking, as if suddenly only hearing her words.

”A chef?” he repeated. His eyes roamed her and he smiled, as if to himself.

Tatiana gasped. His firm lips curled up. He looked breathtaking. She wanted to kiss him. His hands tightened on her hip and side, as if he knew her reaction to him and was pleased by it.

”You are hungry,” Marcello stated, as if the thought had just occurred to him. He chuckled softly. ”Why did you not say? I'd forgotten that about humans.”

”What?” she asked, trying her best to remember that she hated him. With his strong arms so securely wrapped around her it was hard. ”You forgot you needed to feed your pets?”

This caused him to frown. ”You are not my pet,bella mia .”

Tatiana snorted.

”I've been preoccupied with other things. I would've been more prepared for your comfort, if you had not betrayed me with the boy,” Marcello muttered defensively under his breath, his voice hard and accusing.

”I may be your slave, vampire, but I don't belong to you.” She would've struggled, but she felt trapped by the steel grip of his arms. Suddenly, the silk of her robe was too thin. His fingers were clutching at it, digging into her. She felt the angry sc.r.a.pe of his nails, but they didn't cause her to bleed.

Marcello studied the aggravating woman in his arms. He could read her mind, knew she wanted him to release her. He couldn't. Something inside of him made him hold onto her. It was the same force that made him mindlessly go to collect her when she thought to give herself to Thomas. He knew then, as he knew now, that he could've waited. He could've stolen her from the man whenever he was ready. But the mere idea of her lips and her body intimately pressed into the mortal's drove Marcello mad with jealousy.

Seeing her lips, drawn and parted, Marcello couldn't resist. Her body was warm, sliding erotically beneath his fingertips. He'd been waiting to get her powers bound before touching her again. It had been a hard carriage ride, with her so close, yet untouchable. Her curves called to him, beckoning him into carnal madness. He lowered his head, intent on sweeping up her mouth to his embrace.

Tatiana moaned in surprise, her body jerking. His lips were soft, warm, as they brushed against her. Without thought, her fingers traveled over his strong neck, tangling in his hair. His mouth began to move. His lips parted to taste her.

Before she understood what was happening, his fingers slid over the black silk of the robe. Her feet landed on the floor and his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into his chest. His kiss deepened. His fangs lightly brushed across her mouth as she opened herself naturally to the exploration of his tongue.

Tatiana sighed. Marcello's kiss was deep and familiar, as if she'd felt it in another life. She didn't think to protest him when he held her tighter.

Marcello pulled back to look at her. Her eyes were closed to him. He wished she would look at him when he kissed her. He wanted her to see who it was she desired. ”You don't kiss me back,bella mia . Why?”

Her eyes opened, but they were not the soft gaze he'd been hoping for.

”I hate you, devil,” she said darkly. ”I want nothing to do with you.”

At her declaration, he let her go. Tatiana stumbled on her feet, sinking tiredly to the floor. Without having to speak, Marcello summoned Cesare. The man appeared, carrying a tray laden with food.

Tatiana's head lifted at the smell of roasted meat. She did not think to ask how Cesare had gotten it. Cesare came forward and set the tray on the floor before her. Tatiana didn't care about manners, didn't care that she was about to eat off the floor like a mongrel dog. Marcello turned his back on her, walking to study the flames in the fireplace, as she grabbed the slab of meat with both hands, ignoring the utensils. She bit hungrily into it, driven by the primal need to survive.

Cesare turned to leave them. Tatiana saw him move from the corner of her eye. She looked fully at the man's slender frame.

His servant livery of black breeches and a red waistcoat over a white linen s.h.i.+rt seemed to drape on him.

”Cesare,” she mumbled over her stuffed mouth. At the sound of his name, the man stopped. He didn't turn around. Tatiana wondered if it was Marcello's will that he stopped or if the man heard her and reacted. She tore a hunk of meat and bread.

Struggling to her feet, she carried them to Cesare. ”Here, eat.”

The man didn't move, did not even react as if he smelled the food being placed before his thin face. Tatiana took up his hand, trying to give it to him. The hand didn't grasp, only fell to his sides. She tore a piece, sticking it into her own mouth before lifting a piece to the servitor's lips. He didn't bite.