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Marked, Page 4

A.N. Meade

frozen and enhanced in color. They were like tiny little planets that she could hold in her hands. She had a new sense of confidence as she stood, not arrogant but sure. She felt connected to her body more than she ever did before. She could feel her skin, her breath. She felt alive as her feet touched the cold hardwood floor, more alive than she could ever remember feeling before. “Thank you, Natasha. I appreciate the dress, and the encouragement.” Kate straightened the belt around her hips as Natasha turned back around.

  “Oh, it fits you beautifully.” Natasha took a moment to look Kate over, making sure that there were no flipped out labels or loose threads. The dress did suite her perfectly. Kate had a rounder figure than she did, and the way that the cashmere hugged against her breasts and hips was something that she never could have had in the same. Natasha was built more like a model, tall and thin. The only thing missing was the boots. “I brought some boots for you too. They’re beside the bed.”

  “They’re beautiful.” Kate rushed over and held one of the boots up to examine it better. She held it for a moment, admiring the craftsmanship. They were Italian, deep brown leather, with musketeer detail and a stiletto heel. They were quite possibly the finest thing she had ever worn.

  The satisfaction and appreciation on Kate’s face was telling. “I’m glad that you like them.” Natasha had never really known someone like Kate before. Her emotions were so pure. She had undoubtedly been through a lot in her life, but when she felt something it was all consuming. She didn’t hide her thoughts from her face. She was sincere. Natasha walked over and opened the door while Kate slipped the boots on.

  Marc held the door open, letting Enric pass into the room and Natasha step out. “Natasha and I will be waiting downstairs. We have some business to go over, so just come and join us later, we’ll be entrenched in boring details of our latest art acquisition for some time I’m sure.”

  Kate felt awkward when he shut the door. Here she was, alone with Enric. She had never made a habit of being alone with a man. When she was human it was considered inappropriate. She had lived almost exclusively in small towns, where rumors and reputation were of utmost importance. It had also been her experience in life that the men that surrounded her always wanted something from her. She knew that this arrangement with Enric was not sexual, but it was still intimate in so many ways. She was confused about what she should feel about that. She was also confused by what she did feel. She almost immediately noticed the soft hum of the blood flowing under his skin, and the faint beating of his heart in his chest. She didn’t hear her own heart beating. Holding her hand up to her chest, she couldn’t feel it either. It must be beating, or how could she be moving. Then, Enric began to speak, breaking the silence.

  “You’re nervous?” He was looking at her, trying to decipher her mood. His brow was narrowed in concern. He had been worried about her. It seemed strange that he would develop a sense of caring for her in any capacity, especially since they had known one another such a short time.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” She answered in the truest way she could. She didn’t feel nervous. She was afraid if anything. She was afraid because she had always up until this point known herself. She had known her own ability and intention in spite of not knowing the intent of others. She had always had a great sense of self control. It was different now. She had no idea what she was capable of. The only thing that she was certain of was that she would be capable of far more than she had ever allowed herself before.

  “Then you won’t.” Enric seemed sure that Kate would be able to manage herself. He trusted her with his life.

  “How can you know that? How could you possibly? I can feel the change in me already.”

  His confidence was soothing. He didn’t seem worried about doing this at all and that helped Kate to feel a little more at ease. He tried his best to explain. “You care. You care about people, and about life. You’ve been beaten down by things, so I’m not surprised that you doubt yourself, but in time you’ll see yourself differently.” He sat down beside her on the bed. He saw no point in lingering on the issue of would she or would she not be able to control her desire to tear out his throat. A change in subject to more pressing concerns seemed like a good idea. “Have you thought about where the bite should be?”

  “No, somewhere out of plain sight probably.” Kate tried to force herself to let go of her fear and concentrate on what she must do.

  Enric took off his suit jacket and laid it across the footboard. “Yes, that’s true. I have to be out a lot in the public. I don’t know that the majority of citizens would understand this.” For forty-eight, he was in very good shape. His body was lean and sculpted. It was obvious too that he had quite the boyish face, except for the few grey hairs that lined the side of his head just above his ears. They didn’t’ age him that much, but rather gave him a more distinguished air. He took off his shirt and laid it neatly on top of his jacket. “What about my back, or the front of my chest?” He had never been much for wearing watches, so Natasha’s method would not work out well for him. He also tended to lose his tie at first available opportunity that made his neck an unappealing option.

  She could sense very vein, every artery pulsing beneath his skin. The blood would be the richest close to his heart. She felt a surge of strength from within, energizing her. She was certain she could have driven her hand directly into his chest and wrapped her fingers around his heart. She tried instead to focus on the image of him unbuttoning his shirt. Letting the sight of him turn her on would be better than eating his heart.

  In either case she was severely distracted. This forced Enric to lead their interaction. Marc had already warned him that this would be necessary. “I would rather somewhere on the front of my torso I think. What about here?” He pointed to a spot along his left side, just below his breast. It would hurt, but he wasn’t sure that he’d trust her close to his jugular, and he was certain he didn’t trust her behind him. It seemed like it might be a good option.

  Kate made herself focus. “It would be painful, that’s right over your ribcage.” She didn’t really care that it would hurt him, but she knew it would be good to warn him. He would have to manage his pain well. She knew that if he pulled away, or tried to stop her she would lose control. There was a sensitive switch that she was fighting not to flip.

  “Could you get a good feeding from there?” He wanted to make sure she got what she needed. His neck and arms were not an option, and she was not going anywhere near his femoral with her wild eyes. The softness of his lower abdomen seemed like a horrible idea too, so he rather liked the protection the bones of his ribcage provided. He had no real idea of the capacity of her strength. Besides, he had never had a problem with pain.

  It would be almost too good a spot. The blood flowed heavy and strong there, so close to his heart. It was as if she were a surgeon. She could see a map in her mind of every vessel, every muscle, and every bone. He reclined lightly against the pillows behind her, with his right arm up over his head. She turned to face him. “Yes, I think so.” Don’t kill him, she had to continue to repeat in her mind. She longed for the days when this kind of situation would be about sex and no more complex than that.

  “We’ll both be fine.” He misread her silence and hesitation for fear. She was past that. He ran his hand long her right arm comfortingly. It wasn’t that she couldn’t bite him, as horrified as that made her in and of itself. It was that she wasn’t sure if she could stop. She doubted her own self-control more strongly than ever. Things had often been chaotic around her, but she had always had the ability to shut off herself and do whatever it was that she needed to. It was almost at times like she was a robot. This was different. Her body and spirit felt so connected now. It was overwhelming. She trembled as she brought her face to his side, forcing her body to bow to her will. “I’m ready.” He gripped the bed sheet tightly in each fist, anticipating the pain. She closed her eyes and her fangs pierced his skin with superhuman precision. She would feel the
m glide under his skin and instantly they filled with his blood. There was no dramatic sucking, like there is in movies. The pressure of the bite itself was enough for the fangs to draw up the blood, much like a needle and a syringe.

  The pressure was so intense, in fact, that he barely felt her teeth pierce his flesh. He grunted once, softly, just at first. His breaths were quick and shallow. She could feel each racing beat of his heart as his blood pulsed into her mouth, warm and metallic. Then, she could sense his past. His memories flowed through her mind in quick flashes. She could see him as a child in Italy. He paid his way through college himself. She could see him as he met Natasha for the first time, and a dozen other random flashes. “He is a man of true honor,” she thought.

  He could hear her. She was connected to him on a deeper level now. IT was strange and wonderful. Marc had not mentioned this aspect. It was a communication without spoken words, but all the more effective. This explained the knowing glances between Marc and Natasha as he fed. She expressed her gratitude, and opened herself to his thoughts to try and assess if she were causing him more pain than he could bear. He was