Marquis hesitated, while both of his brothers stared, waiting for a response. He turned to Kristina, more out of courtesy than need: “I’ll be back.”
She jolted at the sound of his voice but never looked up.
Nachari let out a low whistle as he held the door for Marquis, clearly realizing how bad things really were. As soon as the door closed behind them, he whispered, “Wow, you two have quite a ways to go.”
Marquis shot his youngest brother a heated glare that would have melted ice, and Nachari quickly dropped the subject.
“Bring her up the outside steps to the second-floor deck. I’ll cut through Kagen’s office and meet you there.” Marquis ran his hands through his hair, feeling suddenly weary.
Nachari frowned. “Uh…yeah, I think we already established where—” His voice abruptly cut off. “No problem.” He headed out the clinic front doors, and Marquis dropped his head in his hands.
He was not prepared for this. For any of it. Seeing the princess right now was the last thing he really wanted...because he wasn’t at all sure he could go back to Kristina afterward. Maybe death was preferable. He wondered: Could he exchange a lifetime with someone he didn’t love for thirty-days with someone he did? Could he refuse the demands of the Blood Curse and spend his last remaining days with Ciopori instead? He sighed, headed up the stairs, and then shot through Kagen’s office to the deck, where he waited for Nachari to bring the princess.
The moment Ciopori came into view, his heart skipped a beat, and he had to steady himself with the railing. Don’t get caught up, he warned himself, knowing it was already too late.
Nachari gracefully averted his eyes and shimmered out of view, leaving the two alone to talk. As soon as he was gone, Ciopori melted into a pool of tears.
Marquis held out his arms, struggling for breath. “Do not cry, Princess. Please, do not cry. I don’t think I can bear it.”
Ciopori fell into his arms and clung to him so tightly her body trembled. She clutched at his back as if she would never let go, sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder. “I’m sorry. Gods, I didn’t intend to do this.”
Marquis rested his chin gently on the top of her head and brushed back her hair. His own hand trembled. “You have no idea how sorry I am,” he whispered. “When I first saw the moon, I thought it was...for us.”
“I saw it as well, but I never imagined it was you.” Ciopori sniffled and pulled back to look him in the eyes.
“Who told you?” Marquis was already lost in the golden amber of her eyes, even though the sparkle was clearly gone.
“Napolean.” She brushed away a tear.
Marquis nodded and pulled her close once again. He didn’t know what to say…or do. Like her, he just wanted to hold on. Forever.
He had no idea how much time had passed, the two of them locked in each other’s arms—thinking, feeling, grieving—trying to come to grips with what had happened. And what was yet to come.
Ciopori finally broke the silence. “I understand the blood sacrifice.” She steadied herself. “And I know what will happen if you and your new...” Her words trailed off. She simply couldn’t say the word destiny aloud.
Marquis cupped her chin in his hands and lifted her head to meet his gaze. “At risk of offending the gods, I have turned this over in my head a dozen times, Ciopori, searching for a way out, but there isn’t one. Outside of my own death in thirty days—”
“No!” Ciopori sounded horrified. “Absolutely not! That is not an option!” Her entire body began to quiver.
Marquis sighed and looked away. “Okay,” he whispered, holding her head to his heart and stroking her hair. “Okay, my love. I will not speak of it again.”
Ciopori slowly calmed down. “What I was trying to say is that I understand what you have to do—what you and Kristina have to do.” Her voice faltered. “And I came to tell you that you must.” Her voice grew stronger, and she took a step back in order to face him squarely. “You must make the sacrifice, Marquis. You must be with your destiny—and you must live.” She lowered her voice. “I would rather love you from afar than try to live in a world without you. Do you understand?”
Marquis felt moisture swell in his eyes, and he blinked it away. He instinctively glanced at the sky, noting how it was becoming ominously dark. Rain clouds were forming in response to his tumultuous emotions; he had to hold it together.
Napolean had already warned him about his last outburst—too many humans had been injured as it was. He reached deep inside, drawing on the seasoned warrior within, and a familiar strength answered. “If that is your decision, then I will abide by it, but know this: If it were up to me, I would choose thirty days with you.”
Ciopori turned as pale as a ghost. “’Tis not an option warrior; ‘tis never an option!”
Marquis shook his head and regarded the sky once again. “The gods are cruel,” he whispered. “I never questioned why they allowed the Curse...but this?” He took a slow, deep breath. He kissed the princess on the forehead and clasped her by both shoulders. “Ciopori, I cannot see you again after today. There’s just no way...”
Ciopori’s courage dissolved like an icicle on a summer’s day, all the air suddenly leaving her body. The look in her eyes was one of both shock and desperation, and she seemed on the verge of panic. Trembling, she reached up, cupped his face in her hand, and shook her head aggressively. Stretching to the tips of her toes in order to reach him, she pressed her lips to his.
Marquis told himself to stop.
To just pull away.
To honor Lord Draco’s choice and Kristina, the woman he was expected to turn Vampyr, the destiny who would soon bear him twin sons. But his ageless soul could not. In that moment there was only her: Ciopori. The sweet taste of her mouth, the intoxicating scent of her skin, the soft curves that molded so perfectly against him as he pulled her closer. There was only an aching, empty void, and his heart was so bereft—so filled with grief and loneliness—that it overpowered his every sense of duty. Good and bad no longer existed. Right and wrong were abstract concepts.
No…all that was good was in his arms. All that was right had been taken from him. Marquis Silivasi owed the gods nothing.
Never again.
He had paid his dues. For fifteen-hundred years. And this was his reward?
As the earth fell out of focus, all other life drifting away into the ether, Ciopori opened her love-filled eyes and whispered, “We don’t have thirty-days, but we have right now, warrior. Give me this one moment—before you and Kristina come together. Let me have this one memory to hold onto before you are mated.”
As her enchanting eyes pled with his, Marquis could hardly believe she was real. Where had this woman come from? When had their love become so strong? And why did he feel it—trust it, know it—all the way down to his soul?
His mind said, No.
His discipline said, Absolutely not.
His sense of loyalty and duty said, Go inside and find Kristina.
Marquis tried to push Ciopori away, desperately willing his legs to move, urgently commanding his body to dematerialize...
And then his fangs extended as if they had a mind of their own. He traced the alluring pulse along the side of her neck with his finger, up and down...once, twice, three times. Marquis shivered as the last vestige of his control slipped away, and his fangs sank deep into the soft hollow above Ciopori’s shoulder.
She shuddered beneath him, and he drank like a man possessed.
He would take everything she wanted to give—her blood, her heart, her body—before he walked away. And when he finally did, he would leave all that he was with her.
His heart. His body. His seed...
His soul.
And as for the gods? Well, they could just be damned.
Ciopori looked deep into Marquis’s eyes, certain he was going to leave her—that he would simply melt away right then and there—without responding to her plea. And then she felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her
neck followed by a pleasure so intense that it robbed her of breath.
Her body shook for about fifteen seconds as Marquis took long, greedy pulls of her blood, and then she simply melted into a pool of liquid heat in his arms. Dear gods, the man felt like silk, power, and perfection at her throat, and she prayed it would never end.
When Marquis finally withdrew his fangs, he moaned deep in his throat as if the adjustment were painful, and then Ciopori felt two thick-drops of liquid closing the puncture wounds…and the pleasure was gone. She slowly lifted her head to protest, but when she parted her lips to speak, he caught her words with his mouth, devouring her protest with his tongue—seeking with fevered urgency.
His taste was hot and exotic, and Ciopori met him kiss for kiss, passion for passion, as their lips explored and their tongues tangoed in a powerful dance of love. Her breasts began to feel heavy, and her nipples ached in a way she had never experienced before. And even deeper…lower...at the junction between her legs, a pulsing warmth began to build into a slow fire that caused her womb to contract and her body to move against his.
She cried out from the unexpected intensity and grasped at his shoulders, his hair, anything that might hold her up as her knees gave way.
Marquis caught her effortlessly, lifting her gently into his arms as if she were weightless. And then just like that, they were in Kagen’s office, and he was laying her down, ever so softly, against a wide, velvet chaise.
She had no memory of Marquis walking—or even flying, for that matter—but as his lips descended once again to claim hers, she forgot all about the miraculous change of scenery. She felt and knew only one thing: Marquis.
“Marquis…”
His name escaped on a throaty groan, wrapped in a voice far too seductive to be her own, yet his reaction was immediate. He moaned in response, and his warrior’s body blanketed her own.
Propping himself up by his powerful arms, he gazed down into her eyes, his own changing pupils glazed over with desire. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he whispered. His eyes drank her in like a man dying of thirst. He sat up then, his deep, heavy breaths increasing as he eyed her from head to toe. “Undress for me, Ciopori. Let me watch you...slowly. I want to remember every part of you. Do this for me...now.”
Ciopori felt suddenly self-conscious. Having been raised a princess, modesty had been part of her required decorum. Few females had ever seen her body nude, let alone a male, yet the look in Marquis’s eyes drew her like a magnet. His blatant desire made her want to please him more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.
Ciopori sat up and leaned toward the arm of the chaise, slowly unzipping the back of her sleeveless dress. Her eyes remained locked with his, and she smiled when a deep, almost indiscernible growl escaped his slightly parted lips. Oh yes, he was going to enjoy her as much as she was going to enjoy him.
Emboldened, she unfastened the remaining clasps and slowly let the top fall away, knowing there were no undergarments between her smooth skin and the fabric. And just like that, her breasts were exposed to his hungry gaze.
Marquis’s breath hitched, and he shuddered. “Ciopori...”
His husky voice poured over her like liquid silk, his eyelids growing heavy with carnal need. She knew he couldn’t stay away. He grasped her by the narrow of her waist and pulled her to him, simply drinking in the sight of her for what seemed a lifetime, his eyes leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His hands cupped the weight of her breasts with a lover’s tenderness, slowly kneading the sensitive flesh as his thumbs swept up to brush the peaks in taunting, exhilarating circles.
He traced her areola with his forefinger and hissed when the nipple hardened in response to a quick, hard pinch, a gentle tug, and release. Ciopori cried out at the brief pain and then sighed as his thumb gently massaged it away. His eyes were like lasers locked to hers, his mouth turned up in a wickedly sinful smile.
“You like that?” he whispered, his voice no more than a deep, raspy purr.
He caressed her other nipple in the exact same manner and watched as she squirmed, moaning his approval, and then he bent his head and took the first aching peak into his mouth.
Ciopori felt the jolt all the way down to her toes, an electric stream of energy pooling in her core. Unable to control it, she began to roll her hips beneath him like waves following a commanding tide, and she instinctively arched her back, offering more of herself to his seeking tongue.
Marquis began to suckle in earnest as she cried out with pleasure, his lips exploring one nipple while his fingers explored the other. And then she grabbed him by his glorious mane of hair and held him to her.
Dear gods, she wanted this man inside of her…
Marquis snarled a low, approving growl as he remained deftly lodged in her mind, obviously reading her thoughts, as well as her reactions, for the sake of increasing her pleasure.
He seemed to know everything she craved the moment she craved it, and as his hands began to explore the rest of her body, he adjusted the pressure…the motion…the intensity in accordance with her every whim. He was creating a whirlwind of passion, a growing storm of need that was driving her out of her mind.
And then a large, commanding hand gently stroked the base of her ankle and slowly began to slide up the inside of her leg, his fingers tracing the contours of her calf as it approached her inner thigh, where he began to knead the flesh with increasing pressure. She gasped at the unexpected advance when he caught at her legs and eased them apart.
He smiled and dropped his head, blowing warm air over the lace panties that lightly covered her core, and then he licked right through the thin material. Ciopori moaned and shifted on the chaise. Her body slid down, and her legs eased apart.
Marquis sat back then, all at once leaving her bereft. “The rest of your dress,” he instructed as his eyes swept over the apex between her legs.
Ciopori held her breath as she awkwardly removed what remained of the garment, leaving only her panties between them.
Marquis smiled and cupped her, rotating the heel of his hand against her cleft, groaning as she raised her hips and pushed back against him. “Da, dragostea mea—danseaza pentru mine.”
Ciopori’s heart skipped a beat, and her womb clenched as the familiar Romanian words rolled off his tongue: Yes, my love—dance for me. She was as aroused as she was startled by her own powerful responses.
In her relatively young life, she had never thought of herself as sexual, erotic. As the king’s daughter, her virginity had been guarded like the castle treasure; to even think of a male in such a way was to endanger his life. But lying here now, beneath Marquis, every carnal desire she had ever buried awakened beneath his hands, stirred in response to his words, trembled at the sight of his smoky eyes and smooth skin. The heat he was generating was almost painful, and she found herself wanting him…wanting things…that were as shocking as they were exciting.
Marquis purred like a jungle cat. “What is it you want, my love?”
Ciopori inhaled sharply, unable to speak, and Marquis shook his head back and forth. “No. That is not an answer.” He slipped two fingers beneath her panties and began to massage the heat of her desire. “Tell me what you want, Ciopori.”
Ciopori arched her back and writhed beneath him. She tried to talk—she really did—but the sound was trapped beneath a growing inferno of heat and sensation and swirling colors. Her mind was engulfed in pleasure.
Marquis stared down at her through heavy-lidded eyes as he slowly removed her panties. His fingers traced every curve and angle of her long, sexy legs as he went along.
When he finally knelt on the chaise above her, she felt so incredibly vulnerable and exposed. He was still completely dressed, while she was laid out before him like a banquet on a palace table. Before she could ask him to undress, he slipped two fingers inside of her and probed in a sweet, thrusting motion, pressing against her with his hand, even as he teased the same spot with his thumb.
/> “Do you want this?”
Ciopori whimpered like a child.
“Or this?” He replaced his fingers with his tongue.
Marquis groaned into her core, sending shuddering vibrations deep into her womb as he slowly tasted her essence. And then, his tongue took on a life of its own. “Dear gods,” he moaned, “you taste like…the moon and the stars, themselves…a goddess.” His body shuddered. “I could love you forever.”
His tongue dove back in, this time bringing his lips, his fangs, and his sweet, sensual mouth with it, as he ravaged her like a hungry animal: grazing, tasting, suckling…drinking.
Ciopori cried out, her harsh scream filling the room. Oh gods, she had to be quiet...but how? When Marquis stopped abruptly, she almost cried out again—only this time, with need. She couldn’t have stopped now if she wanted to. Was he angry?
She opened her drowsy eyes to peek at him and saw nothing but love—and desperate need—dripping from his chiseled, handsome face. “I am afraid you still haven’t told me what you want,” he admonished, “so I have no idea what to do next.” He laughed a wicked, sinful laugh.
Ciopori was breathing in short, rapid breaths as she forced her mind to focus. “I want…” She panted some more. “I...oh gods…I want…I don’t know.” She clutched at him, but he moved out of reach. “I want you,” she whimpered. It was all she could think of.
Marquis’s eyes burned into hers. “How, prinţesa mea?”
Ciopori shivered as her eyes involuntarily swept down to the center of his trousers and the thick, straining sex that pressed against them, now jerking in response to her gaze. He slowly licked his full bottom lip and stroked the enormous shaft through the silky material with his hand. “Is this what you want, Ciopori?”
She writhed beneath him in response and groaned.
Marquis smiled then, his perfect white teeth gleaming beneath his full, sculpted lips. “I didn’t hear you.”