Dark Passion Rising (9 page)

 “I walked into a trap.  Several ferals were waiting for me.”

 “How did they know where you would be?” Tambra frowned.

 “That’s what I would like to know,” he sighed, leaning his head
back against the cushions.  “I just…just need a few moments,” he murmured,
slipping into unconsciousness.

 Tambra cut off his shirt and jeans, unable to get to his wounds
in any other way while he was unconscious.  She couldn’t stop herself from
running her hand along the thick slabs of muscle on his chest.  The white scars
were smooth under her fingers.  Her eyes strayed down past the ridges of his
abs to the thin dark trail of hair that ran from his belly button to his groin.
Her eyes widened at the size of his flaccid cock resting against his thigh.  Her
fingers ached to touch him there.  She forced herself to rise and retrieve a
blanket from the closet to cover him up. With the tension gone from his face he
looked younger, vulnerable.  An urge to protect the man lying helpless on her
sofa welled up inside of her.  He was, after all, a fellow cop, in a way.  It
was her duty to help one of her own. 

She retreated to the bathroom.  She needed another shower and
time to get a better perspective on what was happening to her and on her
feelings for the darkly handsome, and dangerous, vampire.

****

 Marcus slowly became aware of his surroundings.  Soft cushions
supported his back, his legs stuck out over the armrest of the sofa he lay
upon.  He moved slowly at first, testing his abused body.  When no pain
followed, he moved into a sitting position.  The blanket that covered him
pooled in his lap.  He noted he was naked except for white bandages that were
taped to his chest and thigh.  Thinking of Tambra’s hands removing his
clothing, touching his skin as she tended his wounds, made his blood travel
south to his hardening cock.

 He took in his surroundings, noting that the room held a minimum
of furniture.  No knickknacks of any kind could be found on the coffee table or
bookshelves, as if the owner cared little for material objects.  The only
picture in the room was in an inexpensive wooden frame and sat on the nicked
coffee table.  In it, a burly, elderly man was grinning, his arm around Tambra
in her uniform.  By the beaming look of pride on the older man’s face Marcus
assumed he was Tambra’s father.  

The sound of water running in the other room brought him to his
feet.  The blanket dropped to the floor next to his blood stained jeans.  He
moved into Tambra’s bedroom as the water shut off.  Like the rest of the
apartment, it felt empty.  Only a large bed and night stand with a clock on top
of it filled the room.

 The bathroom door opened, emitting a cloud of steam.  The scent
of her rose soap assailed his senses as she stepped through the door.  He was
riveted to the spot, he knew he should turn around and leave, but his feet
refused to move.  His eyes roved hungrily over her towel draped body, her long
hair dark gold as it clung wetly to her shoulders and back.  He heard her quick
intake of breath, and caught the barest hint of her arousal rising between
them.  Her blue eyes, the color of a summer sky, caught and held his for a
moment before he lowered his gaze to her mouth.  He could hear her heart beat
faster, her breath harsher as her eyes burned a path down his body like fingers
stroking him. 

She moved gracefully toward him.  The tops of her breast swelled
above the tightly wrapped towel, making him clench his fists against the need
to touch the creamy mounds.  He tracked her eyes as they moved over his body, to
where his erection jutted out from between his legs.  He had forgotten he was naked. 
He needed to retreat back into the living room before he did something they
would both regret, but he could not move away from her.  She came to stand so
close he could feel her warm breath on his chest, making his cock throb.  One
small, pale hand tentatively stroked his chest, causing him to catch his breath
as an electric current traveled from her fingers to his aching cock.  Her gasp
told him she felt it too.  

She tilted her head up to him and rose on her toes to brush her
lips lightly over his in a chaste kiss that nearly undid him.  Of their own
accord his arms enclosed her in a tight embrace, pulling her to his body as he bent
his head and claimed her lips.  A groan tore out of his throat at the feel of
her hot core rubbing up against his throbbing cock through her towel.  He ate
at her mouth like a man starved, her taste slid over his tongue like ambrosia.  He
needed more, needed
all
of her.

 Marcus pulled away only long enough to tear her towel away from
her body and lift her into his arms.  She felt perfect against him, her hard
nipples scraping along his chest, her body soft and curved.  He knew he should
stop and leave but for the life of him he couldn’t find it in himself to care.  

He laid her down on her bed, her pale body luminescent against
her chocolate colored sheets.  Her full breasts rose proudly.  Her nipples, tight,
rosy buds, begged for his mouth.  Her waist was tiny, curving enticingly over
hips.  Long, toned legs parted slightly, giving him a glimpse of her pink core hidden
in blonde curly hair.  Her pale hair spread out over the pillows like spun gold
and her heavy lidded blue eyes watched him hungrily.  Lips, red and swollen
from his kisses, beckoned to him with a siren’s smile.  All thoughts but one
fled his mind as he took in the temptation before him.  He had to have her,
couldn’t bear another moment without hearing his name on her lips.

 “You’re beautiful, Tambra.” His voice was hushed, filled with
reverence as he moved over her prone form, claiming her mouth in a searing
kiss. “I may be damned for all eternity but I will have given you this one
night of pleasure,” he whispered against her mouth before moving to her jaw, then
down her neck to one rose colored nipple.  He swirled his tongue over it before
taking the hardened peak into his mouth, sucking hard.

 Tambra whimpered with need as she arched into him.  He turned
his attention to the other nipple while a hand traveled over her body to her
mound of crisp curls that covered her sex.  He plunged one finger inside her,
marveling at how tight and wet she was, then another, stretching her.  His
fingers moved in and out of her, setting a slow pace that had her hips bucking
into his hand.  God, she was so responsive!  He could hear her heart pick up
speed.  The blood rushing through her veins was a sweet melody to his ears.  She
was close, he could tell as her muscles clamped down tightly on his fingers.  He
stroked his thumb in a circular motion against her clitoris, driving her closer
still.

 He pulled his fingers out of her moist sheath, amid her
frustrated protests, and gave into the overwhelming urge to taste her, trailing
light kisses down her body until he was at the apex of her thighs.  He spread
her legs further apart to expose the wet swollen lips of her opening.

 “Watch me, Tambra.  I want you to know who has brought you to
peak.”  His voice was rough with desire as he lowered his mouth to her.  He
groaned as her taste exploded on his tongue, sweet as nectar.  He licked and
nibbled like a man starved.  She was addicting, and he couldn’t get enough.

 “
Yes
, Marcus.  Yes!” Tambra screamed as his teeth
scrapped against the tight bundle of nerves.  She was magnificent, Marcus
thought as he watched her break apart.  His name on her lips sent a primal urge
to claim her through him.  His fangs cut through his gums, the urge to mark her
as overwhelming as her scent, like roses and arousal, filling his lungs.  He
couldn’t help but wonder if her blood would be just as addicting.

  His gaze fell on the erratic beat of her pulse, thrumming
through the slim column of her throat.  His stomach clenched and his cock ached
with an almost overwhelming need.  He had lost too much blood, his control was shaky
at best.  If he took her blood, he would be pounding inside of her until he
lost himself in release.  

And if she is your Consort? What will you do then?
the
whisper in his mind taunted him.  He had spent the last two thousand years both
dreading and yearning for that very thing.  If what he suspected was true, and
she was his Consort, how could he ever give her to another man?  The answer to
that was simple- he wouldn’t.  And that would cause a break in the tenuous
peace between the Las Vegas Enforcers and the Lycan community.

 He pulled away from the warmth of Tambra, reminding himself that
if she did survive the Rising she would belong to Temple Fox by law.  He had no
business fucking that up for his own needs.

 Without a word he stood and walked out the bedroom door, closing
it behind him.

Chapter Nine

 Tambra lay in bed, wondering what the hell had just happened.  Her
body felt wrung out from the most intense orgasm of her life.  When Marcus had
removed his fingers she had never felt such an overwhelming sense of loss, but
when he replaced them with his mouth she thought she would die from the
pleasure.  He left her feeling unbalanced, like being on a rollercoaster
without breaks.  

Then he had just closed up.  Her mind whirled with shock.  What had
she done?  Did she come on too strong?  God knew when she had emerged from the
shower she had never expected to find him standing there, his magnificent body
bare and his arousal blatant.  At that moment she had known if she didn’t touch
him she would go crazy with lust.  She had never experienced such strong desire
for any man.  There was something about Marcus that pulled her to him, an
almost magnetic urge.  Marcus haunted her.

  And he had walked away from her!

 Anger burned away the sexual afterglow she had been feeling,
pushing her to her feet.  She grabbed a clean pair of sweats and a tee shirt
and stomped into the living room.  All the anger left her as she saw him
sitting on the couch, his head in his hands, an air of defeat surrounding him. 
He had put his blood stained jeans and boots back on, chest still bare since
his tee shirt was a pile of bloody rags in the trash.  

Tambra kneeled down before him and took his hands in hers.  His
head snapped up, his jaw tight, body rigid with the depth of his longing and
frustration as his eyes clashed with hers.

 “What’s wrong, Marcus?” she whispered, afraid to know what he
would say.

 “This was a mistake, Tambra.  I should never have come here,
never touched you.” His voice rasped harshly against her, igniting her anger
all over again.

 She stood abruptly, taking a step back and fisting her hands on
her hips before storming into her kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

Humiliation washed over her.  She had thrown herself at him and
he had rejected her.  Tambra stiffened as Marcus spoke right behind her.

“You need to understand the world you’re coming into.”

“You can just get over yourself.  What just happened in there
won’t happen again.”  She refused to look deeper.  He was right, the whole
thing was a mistake.  What could she possibly offer a vampire except her blood,
if he could even take it?  According to Temple, she didn’t have long before she
changed into a monster anyway.

 “It’s a world that I can’t be a part of, regardless of how I
feel about you.”

 She spun to face him with an icy glare.  “Now you sound like
Temple Fox.  Don’t I have any say in my own life?”

 His face darkened with fury.  “How do you know about Temple
Fox?” he ground out.

 “He came by for a little chat earlier.  Acted like I should fall
at his feet and be thankful that he wanted to take me away from all of this.”  She
waved a hand indicating her sparse apartment.  “He said I was close to Rising,
whatever that is.”

Marcus ran a hand through his hair and sighed.  “Rising is what
happens when a Pure Blood turns a human.  If the human survives the first three
days after being altered, they then have to survive the Rising itself.  To come
out the other side you must shift from your human form to the humanoid form you
encountered in the alley, then to the last form, the true animal form, and back
to human.”

“Okay, good to know.”  Tambra blew out a shaky breath.  “This
happens a lot, I take it?”

 “The last successful Rising was one hundred-fifty years ago.”

 “So, there’s a good chance I won’t make it?”  She was relieved
to hear her voice come out cool and steady even though fear was clamoring
inside of her.  

Marcus’s somber look spoke volumes.  

 Something must have shown on her face, because Marcus was
suddenly right in front of her, so close she could feel his presence surround
her, making her feel safe, cared for.  This was the first time in her life she
didn’t feel alone.  She had found the one person in the world she felt safe
with, and she may not live through it.

 “You are a strong woman, Tambra.  Many don’t even make it this
far.  You will get through it, don’t think that you won’t.”

 “And what happens when I do?”  This time her voice did break.

“Then you are to be mated to Temple Fox.  They will need you to
survive, Tambra.  There has been no Pure Blood Lycan born to any pack in a long
time.  Their women have stopped reproducing.”

“So I’m supposed to be the egg donor to a race I just found out
existed, chained to a man I don’t even like?  Don’t I have a choice in all of
this?”

“They are not barbarians, just desperate.  With so many of their
Weres turning feral, you may be their last hope to maintain any kind of balance
in their society.  You don’t have to choose anything right now.  Once you’re
through the Rising you may feel differently.”

 “Was it the Weres that attacked you tonight?”  Tambra changed
the subject, now wanting to think of what she still had to go through and the
choices she would need to make.