Between the Marshal & the Vampire(18)

Vellum rounded the fire to take one knee beside Mariel. "Yes, this will be like that. Or nearly so." He smiled wryly, a shared joked between he and Mariel. She smiled back. Making love while Clay watched was surely out of the question.

Wasn't it?

To her surprise, she wasn't so sure she would mind having the handsome Marshal witness her ravishment by Vellum.

You are not the girl you were in Willowtown.

When Vellum curled a supporting arm behind her shoulders, her breath quickened. She couldn't look away from his seductive gaze as he leaned over her.

"Close your eyes," he whispered. "Enjoy this, Mariel."

Lids falling shut, she couldn't help but whimper when she felt his lips against the side of her throat. They were soft and cool, in need of her blood, and yet Vellum only brushed them along the column of her throat, exciting her nerve-endings, exciting her entire body. His delicate touch was incongruous with what he was. If only Clay could experience this and know the truth. But of course that wouldn't happen.

Vellum curled around her, as though shielding her while she lay vulnerable to him. Her head fell back naturally as he lingered over her pulse.

"Mariel," she heard him whisper, and then his fangs pierced her.

There was pain, and for a second she panicked, thinking this would be a repeat of the first time he had drawn from her. But it was only a second later that the warmth spread through her, carrying with it a drugging pleasure as though Vellum had injected her with morphine.

She heard herself sigh, felt her hands clutching at his chest and back, pulling him closer as his lips suckled at her neck. This time the rhythmic pull on her blood felt purely sexual, a mirror of his lips between her legs, sucking on her pleasure nub.

Her body refused to remain still beneath the suggestive sucking. She writhed on the ground. She drew her legs up and clutched them together, trying to ease the throbbing at their apex. Undulating against Vellum, she gasped, "Please."

Vellum's hand cupped her breast.

She cried out as though burnt, and in a way that was how hot his palm felt against her nipple. When he squeezed the globe of her flesh he stoked a fire inside her. Unable to lie still, she reached up to his lustrous hair and gripped demandingly. He growled against her throat, the sound enflaming her. His hand at her breast slid boldly down the length of her body to cup her between her legs.

"Mariel!" Clay gasped from somewhere far away, but Mariel couldn't bring herself to care if the Marshal thought she was being wanton and acting like a prostitute. The need in her body was all-consuming and only Vellum could quench it.

Her skirt was no barrier to him nor were her knickers, which he tugged out of the way. His fingers moved against her damp folds expertly, driving her desire higher and higher. Beneath his touch her body undulated helplessly, moving as his fingers played her. When he slid a long finger inside her and used his thumb to caress her clit, she bucked and cried out. He pumped her with his finger, teasing and tormenting her, proving to them both that he could do whatever he liked to her and she would take it. Warmed lips kissed down her throat, licking her skin, tasting her from the outside as he'd already tasted her lifeblood. Everywhere he touched her, he branded her. Owned her. As she submitted to his finger-f*cking, she couldn't deny any of it.

"Mariel," he groaned against her skin.

He thrust in hard, his palm flatting against her, and she was lost as ecstasy exploded between her legs and radiated throughout her body in glorious waves. She clutched him and he murmured soothingly to her, helping her to ride the crest of her passion.

Eventually he withdrew his hand gently, almost regretfully, and rearranged her skirts to cover her. When he raised his head his eyes shone from more than the firelight. They blazed with passion and possession both.

"You're beautiful," he said to her. He brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. "Thank you for your trust. For your gift."

She nearly thanked him in return and was glad she gathered her wits in time to stop herself. Clay cleared his throat, and she was suddenly aware that he had seen and heard everything. What did he think of her after that display? Did he look down on her? Was he disgusted by her?

When Vellum helped her to sit up, the Marshal was no longer by the fire. Clay was at the horses, saddling them. His gruff, "We should get going if we intend to make any forward progress," made her flinch, but Vellum only shook his head at her.

"He needs time," the vampire told her. "He'll have plenty of it, so don't concern yourself."

But Mariel was concerned. Clay was her friend. As languid pleasure swam through her veins, she decided that maybe, just maybe, she wanted him to be something more.





5


For the first few hours they traveled the dry, starlit desert without speaking, accompanied only by the quiet tromp of their horses and the wooden slither of Vellum's crate. Mariel struggled with confusion over why she didn't feel worse about her behavior. What she'd done twice now would have shocked anyone back home. It shocked her. And yet she looked forward to the next time Vellum needed to feed because she wanted to experience all of it again.

"Becoming a vampire must have been a dream come true," Clay said.

With mounting dread over the where the comment would lead, Mariel checked Vellum for reaction. The vampire no longer rode ahead of them but kept pace between Mariel and the Marshal. He didn't bother looking sideways at Clay as he replied.