Chapter 11

Angel woke with a jerk, her eyes searching the familiar room, hearing Marcus breathing so close to her. Sitting up, she stared down at him. "You're right," she whispered. "Those things don't matter. But I'm not going to let Dorian get his hands on you. I can't let you be hurt because of me." She glanced at the time knowing by instinct that the sun was beginning to set.

Sliding out of her bed, she walked over to her bathroom, pulling open the double doors and closing them quietly behind her. The white robe fell from her shoulders as she walked over to the huge shower. The silk was a pretty contrast against the pale rose colored tiles that covered the floor. Minty green towels hung over a towel warmer, a silly extravagance that her father had thought she would enjoy. Why would a vampire need warm towels?

She smiled at the thought, though it was a sad smile. Dorian had made his intentions crystal clear in that dream. If she didn't come to him, she would find Marcus broken and beaten. She couldn't allow that to happen, she wouldn't. He wanted her. Maybe if he had her he would be satisfied and leave her friends alone.

The water in the shower sluiced over her, washing away the last bit of the dream. She picked up her favorite shampoo, smelling the sweetness of vanilla as she poured it into her hand.

"Whoa, girl. That's my job." Marcus stepped into the shower, shivering at the temperature she had it set at. He reached over, warming it up several degrees from the ice cubes she'd had rushing down her. "Give me that."

Angel let him take the shampoo from her hands, feeling his fingers stroking through her wet tresses, gathering them in one large palm. She could still smell the vanilla as he started soaping her hair.

"You didn't wake me up," he said suddenly.

"I wanted to let you sleep. We still have time before we have to go to work." She kept her face averted from his, knowing he would see the truth in her eyes no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

"I can't sleep without you," he said suddenly, turning her face up to his. "I want you to marry me."

Pain, rich and hot, slammed through her. Tears she fought to hide trembled bitterly against her lashes. "Marcus, we ... we don't need to talk about this now."

"Something's happened," he said, studying her face. "It's that Dorian character again, isn't it. He got to you somehow. Tell me," he ordered, his hands on her shoulders.

"There's nothing to tell, Marcus. I-I was wrong last night. There are too many differences in our lives. We'd never be able to make a go of it."

He stared down at her, the look on his face was one of disbelief. "I can't believe you're saying this, Angel. What the hell is going on? Talk to me," he begged.

"Nothing is going on. I-I made a mistake and I have to put things right before they go too far and one of us gets hurt."

"Gets hurt?" Marcus roared. "You don't think I'm not hurt by this? You tell me you love me, you sleep with me, lead me on and the say oh, sorry, it was a mistake? No fucking way. You're hiding something." He stepped forward, backing her into the corner of the shower. "Tell me what you're hiding, Angel."

The demand in his voice struck a chord in Angel. No, not a chord but a huge pile of pissed off. It spilled out of her and she took a step forward, shoving her finger into his chest. "You don't order me around," she growled, her fangs flashing in the overhead lights. "Don't patronize or tell me what I'm feeling. Did you ever think that you might have just been an itch I needed scratched? Consider yourself scratched." She took a minute to rinse the soap from her hair, stalking by him, her head high.

Gathering a towel into her arms, she flipped it open and then threw it over her shoulders, walking back into her bedroom. She'd get dressed and get out of here.

"No." Marcus came out of the bathroom, his incredibly honed body still dripping wet. He shook the damp golden curls out of his eyes as he reached for her. "You may be done, but I'm sure as hell not." He lifted her by her arms, tossing her in the middle of her bed and following her down.

"Marcus," Angel said, the hard look in his eyes scaring her. "Don't," she gasped as his mouth found hers, hot, hard and hungry. His hands ripped the towel away from her before running down her body, curving around her thighs and parting them. His body slid into hers too easily, the violence he was showing her calling to the part of her that craved his domination.

"You want me, admit it," he growled against her lips, his hips moving in a harsh rhythm with enough force to have her whole body jerking at every thrust.

"Just because I want you doesn't mean I love you," she managed to get out between her gritted teeth. She moaned, her eyes locking on his throat, her body craving the rich taste of his blood.

A hard smile touched his lips as he noted where her gaze rested. Reaching around his neck, he pushed aside the wet curls that clung to his skin. "Hungry?" he asked harshly.

"No," she said, shaking her head but her eyes gave away the lust she had for his blood, needing that tie to him even as she fought it.

"You do, you want this, you want me. You're being stubborn." There was a note in his voice, a desperation that she couldn't help but hear.

"Yes, okay, I want to feed. I'm hungry and your blood has a kick like nothing I've ever tasted before."

"Do it," he said. "If this is it for us, then do it." He lifted his head, baring his throat to her.

Angel was more scared of this than of anything but seeing him hurt. Feeding involved an intimacy that was so much more than sex. There was pleasure for both parties. But she couldn't resist. Her fangs lengthened, her mouth grew moist with longing and she trailed her fingers over the pulse throbbing there at the base of his neck.

Closing her eyes, she breathed in his scent, the musky smell of his flesh, the scent of his blood that was pounding just beneath his skin. She leaned up, her teeth barely touching his neck.

Marcus grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head up, feeling the sharp points of her fangs break the skin. She bit down and he groaned, an anguished sound that had tears in her eyes even as she fed hungrily from him.

Rich and thick, his blood flowed like honey into her mouth. It was sweet, like some kind of heavenly nectar. She could feel it filling her veins, flowing through her body, making her feel strong. She felt invincible. She swallowed as quickly as she could, knowing she'd have to let go soon.

Angel could feel him trembling, she could hear his panting breathing. He moved over her faster, fucking her with long strokes that had her entire body tensing in pleasured pain. Reluctantly, she released him, her tongue sliding over the tiny wounds her teeth had made, licking away the rest of his blood and closing the wounds. In ten minutes, they would be healed as if they'd never been there. But now her head was spinning, her body writhing under him. She pressed her breasts against his massive chest, her nipples like hard little pebbles, pushing into him.

Her hips rose, meeting his thrust. She groaned when he pulled away, flipping her over to her belly before lifting her easily to her hands and knees. When she tried to wiggle away, he slapped his hand over her ass, his wide palm making a loud slapping noise.

He pushed into her from behind, going slowly until his body pressed against her hips. Leaning over her, he teased her ear with his tongue. "Beg, Angel," he growled. "If you want me to let you come, beg for it."

Angel shook her head. "No."

"I guess I'll have to see what I can do to make that a yes." He slid his hands from her hips, moving them over her waist and then around her body, finding her nipples with his fingers. Pulling on them, he twisted and played with the hard brown tips. She squirmed under him, trying to move enough to rub her clit against his cock, but he held her still easily.

Marcus pulled his hand away from her breast, letting his wide palm rest against her stomach. His fingers touched the top of her mound, the soft white blonde fur crinkling under his teasing. Moving it slowly downward, he found the top of her slit, feeling her moisture already gathering, coating his finger tips.

"I'm going to fuck you now. I'm going to make you come so hard that you'll beg me not to leave." He wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her up easily, his other hand still slipping slowly over her clit. Her back pushed back against his chest, he started thrusting into her again, using his arm around her waist to hold her still.

She whimpered, the assault on her senses as well as his blood in her body combined to make her so sensitive it was almost as if she were having one continuous orgasm, shards of pleasure bursting only to fall back and burst again and again. "Marcus," she groaned, her hands roaming over his thighs, her head turning, searching for his lips.

He grunted in response, his body on a hair trigger. He was staving off his own orgasm by sheer will. Pushing her back down on the bed, he grabbed her hips in his hands, using them to pull her back against him, plunging deep. Their bodies slapped together, sounding loud in the semi quiet of the room.

Angel arched her back, pushing back harder. Marcus filled her like no other lover had, he knew her better than anyone did, saw through her easier. He ignored her moods, slapped down her bullshit and could take anything she threw at him.

In bed, well he was everything a War god should be. She loved him. Her mouth opened and she cried out his name as a rushing wall of bliss fell over her. She heard his cry echo, heard the words he spoke as tears slipped down her cheeks.

Marcus didn't let go of her, instead, he fell to his side, pulling her with him. "Tell me you love me," he ordered her.

"I love you," she said, her voice sounding more like that of some automaton than a woman. Her eyes were dead looking when he turned her face up to his and she closed them slowly, unwilling to look at him. "Now will you go?"

He reared back as if she'd slapped him, his cock slipping free of her body. Marcus stared at her rigid back, confusion and hurt warring for dominance in his eyes. "You want me to leave?"

She nodded her head, averting her face. "Go, please."

Marcus rose, more confused than before. "I love you Angel, I'm not giving up on this thing between us. I've never felt more alive, more at peace with myself than when I'm with you. I'll leave, but as soon as I take care of this little problem between us, I'll be back." He grabbed his pants, pulling them on. Without another word, he strode from the room and slammed out the apartment door. Taking the steps two at a time, he didn't even wait until he was on the street before he unfurled his wings, leaping into the air and flying away.

Angel sat up on the bed, her body still tingling with what Marcus had done to her. She could feel aches and pains from his rough treatment, relishing the slight pain because it kept the harsher, sharper pain of his leaving away. How was she ever going to handle seeing him at work? Maybe she should call in, or quit.

"I can't quit," she whispered, wiping at the tears that were streaming down her face. She heard the door to her apartment open and then slam closed. "He's gone." Fresh tears filled her eyes and she replayed the last words he'd said to her in his mind. "What little problem between us?" she asked herself slowly, her eyes darting around the room. "Dorian!"

Forgetting about everything but Marcus, she rushed from the room and out the door, taking the steps to the street in bounding leaps. "Marcus! You idiot, get back here. You can't go after Dorian on your own!"

But he was already gone. Like a tiny snowflake, a single downy feather fell in front of her. She caught it, holding it in her fist as she scanned the sky. Then she turned, rushing down the stairs. She had to find Callie and Shadow.

"I love you."

The words seemed to hang in the air between them, heavy and irretrievable. Callie felt her face begin to flame and a bubble of hurt and resentment burned inside of her. "You don't have to say them back," she said, trying to act nonchalant about what she'd said. "I mean, I just wanted to let you know how I felt."

Sitting up, she scooted over to the side of the bed, staring at her hands. She'd never been in this situation before and she didn't know how to get out of it gracefully.