Part 22 (1/2)
She rocked her body against him hard, impaling herself on him in a glorious burst of pleasure-pain. Her stomach quivered, she couldn't move as the intense pleasure of their joining flooded her limbs. It was the first time they came together without one of them in control of the other. His hands jerked her in shallow thrust on his shaft, milking her body for all it could give him.
His body responded to the quaking in hers, violently spilling his release up into her.
Tatiana collapsed against him. Marcello was still deep inside her body. Her head fell forward, finding support on his shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. He was eerily still beneath her, though she thought she could detect his heart racing in his chest. She moaned lightly, pulling back to study his face, searching his blank features for approval.
His dark eyes were soft, though they still pierced into her. They were rimmed with the red of her blood. She looked down at her chest. A small bead budded over one of the marks on her creamy flesh. She lifted up. Pulling her body from his, she stood and turned her back on him to right her bodice and smooth her skirt.
Marcello bit his finger and, reaching around her from behind, he healed her skin before grabbing a handkerchief and wiping off the remaining blood. She s.h.i.+vered to find him so close to her back. He dropped the dirty handkerchief on the table next to the wine bottle, which was still amazingly stood right side up. Tatiana's knees were weak, but her body soared. The small room smelled of him, of what they had done, and it was intoxicating.
”Vorrei trascorrere tutta la mia eternita con te,” Marcello whispered, leaning close to her ear. Tatiana couldn't understand him, but she s.h.i.+vered nonetheless. He placed a small kiss on the back on her long neck. 'I would like to spend all of my eternity with you.'
”So it is true, Leandro,” a dark voice mused. Broderick's vivid blue eyes did not move to study his long time friend, as he looked past the chaotically flying skirts of the dancers and the rowdy movements of the lecherous men. ”Marcello has gotten himself a witch. Interesting.”
”Do you sense anything about her?” asked Leandro quietly, his eyes boring forward to the curtains with an odd mix of jealousy, curiosity, and hatred.
Broderick closed his yellowing eyes and sniffed the air, concentrating, sorting through the potent smell of sweat, beer, and cigar smoke. He hated the hall, hated the smell of humans.
”Well?”
”He takes her blood now,” Broderick whispered. His breath caught and he let the smell linger in his head. ”It is potent. She is of the ancient Egyptian lines, but her power is uncontrolled, unused. I would say that she is only new into it, perhaps a few years at most.”
”What does it mean?” Leandro asked.
”I would have to taste her to be sure, but the blood smells as if she is of theAddien . If she is of that old family, it must mean the powers just came back to her. Generations ago, theAddiens fought an ancient evil that cursed the land. The battle was thought to have killed their powers completely. The witches were left defenseless and were slaughtered by humans in the name of the church. One woman nearly escaped, but she was captured in the end. I knew her. She was very beautiful and had hair like wheat, eyes the color of jade. I have never seen the like of it again. She was said to be the last of the line. Although it was rumored she had a child, but the babe was never found.”
”You think this witch is a descendent of that child?” Leandro asked. His dark brown gaze narrowed in concentration, but he couldn't smell so well as his friend. He knew what Marcello did with the witch behind the curtains. He'd seen the woman kissing her vampire lover, moving indecently onto Marcello's lap.
”It is possible. For centuries the line was sought after but never found. If the magic has been gone from her so long, it will be rested and ready. She may be unstable. Marcello might not know what it is he has found.”
”Ah, then I will have to save the fool from himself,” Leandro said. ”I shall take her for my own. I will taste of her power and then I will kill her.”
”Have you no love for Marcello, he--?” Broderick began.
”No,” interrupted Leandro coldly. ”I have no love at all. Vampires are not meant to love, only l.u.s.t and feed. It is our way, our destiny.”
”Such a cold view,” Broderick said, though his tone did not necessarily disagree with the a.s.sessment.
As they watched, the curtain drew back slightly. Marcello stepped through, only to turn and leave his witch lover hidden safely behind. Leandro saw her hand briefly as she followed Marcello's arm out of the curtain.
”Why don't you go and greet our old friend, Broderick? It would be rude not to pay our respects whilst in Paris,” Leandro mused, his eyes narrowing in on the curtain. ”I should like to get a closer look at this witch.”
Chapter Ten.
”Don't take too long, my lord,” Tatiana whispered, following Marcello with her eyes as he stepped to the opening of the private alcove. They were again dressed, looking as if nothing happened, except for the rosy hue to Tatiana's flushed features.
But, that could've easily been explained away by the heat of the club.
Tatiana's eyes shyly dipped down when he turned to study her in question. When she looked back up, she swore she saw a ghost of a smile on his handsome face.
”Stay in here,bella mia . Here you will be safe,” he promised. He leaned down to brush his lips against her softly, before pulling back.