Maybe it’s because all the shit that went down, but despite my exhaustion, I toss and turn.

Fevered visions of Carver’s torture haunted me. The agonized expression on Lucien’s face when I greedily sucked on Marius’ blood. I have betrayed my men, because there is another reason that I can’t sleep.

I feel him, his blood coursing through me, heating me in places he had not a right to. And I see his face, that strong jaw, and the cut of his biceps, the breadth of his chest and I am wrung out between needing more of him and denying that need.

This was not right in all the reasons that it wasn’t. What did he say?

I’m just the bastard mad bomber, and you’re the Dria queen with her ordained consorts. We don’t want to muddy any waters there, do we?”

Do we? I saw the pain in his eyes and the need. Like I was a jewel he desired with the core of his being but could never have, cut off by circumstance and the vagaries of cruel fate.

A sound cuts through my half sleep and I bolt upright terrified that some other piece of hell was about to land on my head.

Emerald green orbs glow from across the cargo bay; eyes who cut to the core of my being, to both my souls, human and vampire.

“Marius,” I whisper. What is he doing here? I stare at those eyes in shock because I thought we said all we needed too.

“Do you know?” he said in a husky voice, “that your eyes glow like emeralds when you are frightened?”

“I can say the same thing about you, though when you are angry, or…Why are you here?”

The green orbs shutter from him closing his eyes. “Because I cannot stay away,” he said. “Why is that Dria? Did you lay a spell on me?”

“I’m no witch,” I say getting to my feet. “But I could ask you the same question. What is it about your blood that burns through me? Why do I feel the need to touch you and taste your skin?”

“You want to feed on me?” he says

“This goes beyond sustenance,” I advance on him.

“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t get closer unless…”

“Unless what?” My voice shifts to seductive tones. “Unless I plan to touch you?”

“It better be more than that, Dria. I can’t stand another moment of you just touching me and not having more.”

Oh, unholy fates. My muscles tremble the closer I get to him. His scent grows stronger, thick with male musk and desire. Am I imagining a huge cock straining against his pants? I keep my eyes on him and put my arms around his neck as I pull myself to straddle his hips.

“It’s definitely more than touch,” I say. “Your blood is in me, but I want more of you in me if you’ll give it to me.”

He growls and stands suddenly, and I wrap my legs around his hips to keep from falling. His caged cock grinds against me sparking a fire so deep within me I shudder in a pre-orgasm.

Fuck, he was strong.

With a couple steps he pushes my back to the bulkhead, and tears the front of my shirt as if it was paper. My bra suffers the same fate, and my breasts are utterly exposed to him. My nipples peak at the exposure to the cool air of the cargo bay. At least that’s what I tell myself, but he is looking at me, with those eyes that glow with an unholy light, as if the fires of hell were locked inside him, and they wanted to come out and play.

“How dare you tempt me,” he growls. “How dare you make me want you so bad, that if I walk away from you, I feel I’m dying than rising like a newborn vampire, filled with nothing but need and violence. How do you do this?”

He smashed me against the bulkhead again, and I think giddily that I’m having Klingon sex with a bad ass vampire that is so hungry for me that he’s pissed about it.

Good. This was going to be one fucking wild ride.

I laughed, because I sensed it would tick him off more.

“Give me what you got, big boy. I can take it.”

“Are you sure?” he said in a feral growl filled the bloodlust of a wild animal tearing its prey.

He slams against the bulkhead with such ungodly force a boom reverberates through the body of the plane. Marius crashes his mouth into mine, his tongue greedily pushing inside, dueling with my tongue, while our lips form a seal, flesh to flesh of demands that could only be met by more than a kiss.

His mouth sucks on my neck, his fangs perilously close to my jugular. If he fed on me on my recovering state it would drain me dangerously. One fang nicks the tender spot, but he laps and seals the nick with his saliva.

Marius hums as he licks and nibbles my neck and my breasts, as fire consumes me from the inside out. My juices run down my thighs and my clit throbs. I don’t know if I will burst into actual flame. His fangs sink into my tender breasts, and I cry out in pain and pleasure.

“Not yet,” he demands. “Not yet.”

He lifts me off the wall and bend me over the crate and this is so fucking hot that I can’t see straight. Marius pulls my head back by my hair with one hand, while roughly tearing off my pants with the other. My juices cool on my exposed skin and he growls again. I love this heady mix of pain and pleasure. One amps each other in a frantic dance worthy of voodoo followers.

“You are so fucking hot,” he snarls. The sound of his zipper greats my ears, and my boy there is not going for nice, etiquette and Emily Post. He impales me with a cock so thick I think he will split me in two.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

He pounds me with that thick, hard cock of his, every push and slide edging me to a precipice so high, I don’t think I’ll come through this whole. My legs tremble and my back arches as animal noises fill the space. With a shock I realize I’m making those noises as he pummels me from the inside out.

“Fuck me,” I shout.

“Damn it,” he spits gutturally as he picks up the pace and jams himself inside me with such force that my thighs take a hit on the crate each time he enters my sheath.

I am taken, commanded by this ravenous appetite for what only he can deliver.

“Look at me.” He orders and I raise my eyes to his. It only confirms what I know, what I knew the moment I saw him in Morana’s estate the night of the bombing. What I knew again the moment I saw him on the tarmac. He is mine. The last of my fated three.

“That’s right, princess. You want me to fuck you like this, don’t you? Hard and rough and exactly how you need it.”

“Yes!” I cry out as I feel myself sliding, falling, immunes to the physical pain, dragged into a maelstrom of pleasure that engulfs me as I burst into a thousand pieces.

Holy shit.

I just fucked like I have never in my life. Angry fucked a man who infuriates me with his mockery and I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude.

I lean onto his shoulder, each of us panting over and over as reality swarms me. I want to deny this to myself, but I can’t, especially not now. Not after. . . this.

How the hell am I going to explain this to Lucian tomorrow, and Carver? Fuck.