Shadow Guardians: The Beast -
Chapter 10
She avoided most of the crowds and took the nearest elevator up to the top floor. Just as she got out, she bumped into a woman with long, dark hair and violet eyes. Her skin was so flawless, it almost glowed. She smiled, and Katherine saw the fangs.
“Hi! I’m Ophelia, you can call me Ophie.” She extended her hand, and Katherine shook it.
“Hi, Katherine. Wow, you don’t look pregnant.”
Ophie smiled. “Females rarely do, even in our final month. I hope those clothes fit you. You’re roughly my size, maybe a little shorter and a little narrower along the hips.” She snorted. “Too much pizza, pregnancy cravings, and all.”
“No, you’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, hey, just a heads up. I wouldn’t head in the direction of the gym if I were you.”
“Why?” Katherine frowned, not that she was into working out right now.
Ophie inhaled deeply. “Gosh, don’t you smell that? I can smell it all the way over here.”
“What?”
“It’s kind of this dark, spicy smell.”
For some reason, Katherine’s head went straight there. “Magnus?”
Ophie’s eyes widened. “Ohh… So that’s what Zachiel was talking about. Oh man, that stinks.”
“What does?”
“Bonding. It’s a painful time for a male.”
Katherine swallowed and, for some reason, brought her hand up to her throat. “Yeah, he kind of attacked Draven in the hallway.”
“That’s not the worst of it. The week of bonding, they get powerful sexual cravings, which hurt like insanity.”
Katherine flushed, red as a cherry. “Oh?” I’m totally not interested in that…
“Yeah, and the only way to get relief is to be with the female they’re craving or to leave the house. It’s... cruel to leave him like that. But he won’t take morphine.”
“Morphine?!” Katherine’s eyes widened.
Ophie smiled. “It’s really bad. I still remember how it was with Zachiel in the beginning.”
Holy shit…
“Anyway, I’m going to bed. You take care now. I’ll talk to you again soon.”
“Sure, it was nice meeting you. Thanks for the clothes.”
Ophie winked at her as she strode down the hallway to the east wing.
Katherine brought a hand to her forehead. Suddenly, she remembered how he’d been for her the night before. Good God, she was the cause of the world of pain he was in now. She felt both guilty and intrigued.
She went to the bedroom and pushed the trolley of food inside. When she closed the door and turned, she gasped. Magnus was on the bed, his face contorted with pain, curled up into a fetal position. When he became aware of her, he turned away from her. He was dressed only in a robe.
“Katherine, you shouldn’t be here.” She was making it worse. Another wave of agony went through him. His breath caught, and he turned onto his stomach, kicking at the sheets.
Katherine gaped. Holy moly, she didn’t think it would be this bad, but then, what the hell would he need morphine for if it wasn’t? She thought of her self-pity trip in the shower that morning. Now it seemed so insignificant. She’d always thought that no one would want her bruised, scrawny body. And here someone was literally writhing in agony over it.
She stepped closer, crossing her arms around herself. The air was thick with that dark scent.
“No…don’t…”
“I’m not scared of you,” she said softly. She sat down on the bed next to him and reached out her hand, only to have him pull away.
“You’re making it worse,” he shuddered and drew his knees tighter into himself, a pained groan escaping him that was somehow utterly sensual to her.
“Let me lay with you.”
Oh hell. ”I’m afraid I’ll hurt you, Katherine.”
She let her hand glide over the silk robe, stroking his arm. “You won’t. I’m not as fragile as you think.” What the hell, she’d handled chemotherapy. "Just hold me for a while, until you feel better.”
He gave a hysterical little laugh. “Yeah, it’s a little more wanting than that.” He didn’t see her remove her robe. She forced herself not to think about the bruises because Ophie was right. It was cruel to leave someone like this.
Especially one big, sinfully handsome vampire male. She settled behind him, buck naked. She was a little scared of what he would think of her ailing body, even if this was all because of her. God, was she really doing this? Well, if she died, she might as well be steeped in bliss.
“Turn around,” she whispered, stroking his arms and shoulders from behind. “Please…”
“You first.”
She frowned but did as he asked. Okay, maybe he didn’t want to look at her after all. After a few moments, he too turned and held her from behind. They lay perfectly still, with him barely breathing behind her.
As she lay next to him, that dark smell started wafting into her nose. She inhaled the scent, and her libido was sent into overdrive.
“Why does your skin make that scent?” She asked, unable to keep the rawness out of her voice.
Her tone got her just what she was hoping for—he drew her back against his body.
“It’s what happens when a male bonds with a female. The more intense the bonding becomes, the thicker the fragrance. It’s... I’m...” marking you, “I can’t help it...”
His breath became ragged. With slow sweeps, he began running his hands up and down the curves of her waist. When she arched her spine and sighed, he could see her breasts over her shoulder.
He moved his hands over her rib cage, feeling her bones, until his palms enveloped her breasts. Her head kicked back farther, and her mouth parted. That scent of him was a potent aphrodisiac. She turned, and he kissed her hungrily. She eased into the lines of him. Her arm embraced him, trying to get closer to all that muscle and warmth.
“I don’t want to stop, Katherine.” His thumbs caressed the skin of her throat and then pressed into her jaw and angled her head back, sucking at her Adam’s apple. “I want you liquid, but God...” He fought the urge to fold his knees into himself against mounting agony. “I don’t know how I can control myself.”
He explored all the depths of her mouth. She was hopelessly lost. She’d do anything. Anything he wanted, just as long as he never stopped kissing or touching her. And then his beast came into the mix and started purring, making a delightful twrrring sound in the back of his throat.
His fingers moved lower, paused.
“Where would you like me to touch you?”
He kissed her hard when she didn’t answer. “Tell me.”
She couldn’t think straight, let alone speak. He took her hand and put it around his.
“Then lead me...”
Unable to stop herself at this point, she took his palm and put it on her neck. In a slow sweep, she brought it back to her breast. He purred his approval, the purring being more beast than man.
“Where else?”
Mindless and out of control, she drew his hand down to her stomach. Then over to her hip.
“Yes…”
Before she lost her nerve, she put his hand between her legs.
“Will you let me have you?” At this point, he was prepared to go down on his knees and beg, grovel, anything.
“Yes…”
“If you don't tell me no now, I won’t be able to stop.” His voice shifted back from beast to Magnus for a moment.
She clasped her legs around him and attempted to press his massive bulk down in invitation. He growled deeply, and his eyes lit up in electric blue, the irises flashing red.
“Will you accept it, too?” His voice changed again. Now it was so deep that the words were distorted.
For just a second, she reconsidered. But then she decided that if his beast wanted her too, the only way it could have her was through his body. It wasn’t like he was going to transform midway.
She nodded, feeling reckless.
“Too late, Katherine. Now, it’s too late..."
In a quick series of moves, he pulled her hips off the mattress and joined with her. Relief washed over his face and left him on a long sigh. She held onto him, arms and legs, as greedy desire overwhelmed him.
Then he slowed his pace. She was confused. He hadn’t finished and he was still pained, but the warmth of her seemed to help tremendously. “Katherine, forgive me.”
“For what?”
“I need to… drink from you.”
She trembled, but he felt a warm rush where they connected. He sighed long. She was a salve over his ache.
“You really want to?”
“God, yes.” His mouth closed on her throat. He sucked her skin, craving to do more. Of a sudden, he was starved. He smelled the sweetness of her blood, felt the steady pump of it through her vein against his lips. “Just a little, I promise.”
“I wondered what it would feel like.” Her voice carried a thrill. “Does it hurt?”
“Only when my fangs penetrate your skin, but then it’s like... sex. You’d feel my pleasure. And I’ll be very gentle.”
“I know you would.”
A pleasure surge speeded through him, elongating his fangs. She bared her neck to him, and he sank into her vein. She flinched at the sting, but when he began gently sucking, she felt herself go limp. His hips began moving again even as he fed from her, sucking and swallowing that taste he’d been craving for so long—that warm sweetness trickling down his throat as he took her into himself.
But he kept his promise to her. Much as he craved more, he only took a little, and then he pulled out and licked his bite marks so they would stop bleeding and heal faster.
He found his pace again, but it wasn't long before his movements became desperate. Becoming heavy-lidded, he closed his eyes.
Then, from out of nowhere, he felt a wonderful sting in his neck. His eyes shot open. She’d curled into him, had closed her mouth on his neck, and was biting.
“Yes...Bite...hard...”
The little burst of pain shot his pleasure through the roof and snapped all control. His name flew from her lips as she crested, her nails scoring his back. He peaked over and over again, riding the waves that engulfed him.
His feeding from her had stilled her mind, and she watched him shudder. That beautiful smell of his bonding with her was thick in the air, the dark fragrance marking her skin, her hair, and everything in between.
After, he rolled off her before his body gave in. She turned onto her side and smiled as she saw his face go lax, all the pain gone. The sheets were spectacularly ruined.
“Well, vampires make big messes.”
He started laughing softly, too limp to talk. Now he just wanted to sleep. “Naw, that’s just me and my beast.”
"I think we need to replace these sheets. I’ll get you and myself a towel.”
“I have to move, don’t I?”
“’Fraid so.”
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