Uncle Alan pointed me toward Pippa's room before turning back to the kitchen, already busying himself with the grocery bags he must have brought earlier that afternoon. From what I had gathered, this was where they had been staying the moment Marcus realize I was gone...taken.
While Victoria had been certain Garrick wouldn't harm me, not with our history tangled the way it was, Marcus was adamant that he would come for me anyway.
Going to the authorities had never been an option. Not with Garrick's family holding influence over nearly every corner of the system. He was too powerful, his reputation too carefully curated, for anyone to believe otherwise. To them, he was untouchable.
By the time I stepped into my best friend's room, exhaustion had settled deep into my bones. At least this time, Pippa's room came with an en-suite. So I didn't need to think twice, as I stripped out of my clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water pour over me.
My eyes slipped shut almost immediately.
For a moment, I let myself drift.
The heat seeping in my skin, easing the tension I hadn't even realized I was carrying still. Washing away the grime. The fear. The lingering weight of everything that had happened over the past few days.
I didn't even know how long I had been gone. Didn't know how long Garrick had kept me. And I wasn't sure I wanted to, yet.
Not when the memory of it all still clung too close, too sharp. The sound of the gunshot. The look on his face.
I swallowed hard.
He had been right about one thing, though. That I had never thought myself capable of hurting anyone.
I lost track of time as I stood there, the warm water cascading over me, my hands gliding sensuously over my skin. Slowly, deliberately, my fingers traced the curve of my thighs, lingering where the lingering heat of Marcus still pulsed between me.
The memory of our shared moment in the bathroom washing over me, vivid and electric, flooding my senses. Maybe this was what I needed to forget, just for awhile...
I closed my eyes, breath hitching, as my fingers inched closer towards my growing ache...closer...closer...until—
"Elena."
My eyes snapped open, startled, causing me to stumbled backward. I was losing my balance until Marcus rushed and caught me effortlessly.
My hands flew to his bare chest in an effort to steady myself. My fingers tracing the warmth beneath his skin, as my gaze dipped, exploring the contours of his body, now clad only in his black underwear. Even his bandages were gone, his wound already softening into a faint bluish shade against his skin.
Vulnerable, yet strikingly real.
Those dark eyes, heavy with desire, locked onto me as if I held the world in my hands.
Slowly, my hands drifted from his chest upward to cup his jaw. His breath hitched at my touch, his hard length pressing hard between legs. I didn't have to look to know that he was as affected by my touch as I was, by his.
"If you are in need of me," he murmured, brushing my damp hair with slow intent, "you need only speak it." His lips hovering near my ear. "I would come, without hesitation, to ease what burdens you."
"We shouldn't," I whispered, my lips brushing a slow, unsteady path from his chest to his jaw, my heart racing. "But I can't seem to stop."
"Why is that?" I asked softly, lifting my gaze to his.
He looked down at me as though I were the only thing in his world.
The corner of his mouth curved. It was subtle, almost disbelieving. For a fleeting moment, I caught the hint of a dimple, as he leaned his forehead against mine, his thumb tracing slow, hypnotizing circles near my lips.
"Because you are already mine," he murmured. "You may deny it, but the gods do not falter in such matters."
His gaze held mine, steady. Certain.
"They have you set in my path," he continued quietly. "And I...yours."
Without hesitation, I reached up and crashed my lips against his with a fierce hunger I could no longer contain, desperate and aching. He lifted my chin, tilting my head back to deepen the kiss even more, as my hands eagerly tugged down his underwear, discarding it with a swift kick just as he pinned me hard against the bathroom wall.
He spread my legs wide, commanding yet tender. My arms locked around his neck, pulling him close as we kissed, our bodies grinding into one another with a wild, urgent rhythm.
A sharp gasp escaped me as he lifted me effortlessly, plunging deep inside in one powerful thrust, filling me completely. His groan rumbled against my neck, raw and ragged, as the pleasure crashing through us like fire, overwhelming and impossible to resist.
"Marcus..." I moaned, my voice trembling with need as he began to move. "Fuck."
I clenched my thighs tighter around his waist, aching to pull him even closer, to feel every inch of him buried inside me. My hands gripped his broad shoulders, steadying myself as his hands dug into my hips, driving in and out with relentless, fierce urgency.
The sharp sting of my lower back hitting the wall echoed the pounding rhythm of his thrusts. Each one deeper, harder than the last.
His breath came hot against my skin, as he murmured something low and ancient in latin into my neck. Words I didn't understand, but felt coursing through me like fire igniting something deep inside, unraveling me from the inside out.
His lips traveled down my collarbone, tracing a path until they found my breast. He captured my nipple between his teeth and lips, sucking with a hunger that matched the wild beat of his lips.
I gasped, clutching him tighter, nails digging into his skin as he moved harder. Faster. Each thrust relentless, driving me closer to the edge.
The world narrowed to the heat of our bodies, the sound of ragged breaths and desperate moans filling the air. I arched into him, my pulse racing, my heart pounding in sync with his fevered pace.
Then, with a guttural growl, he slammed into me one last time.
Long, deep and shattering.
The tension broke loose inside me, as waves of pleasure crashed through every nerve, my body trembling in the fierce aftermath.
He held me close, his breath ragged against my skin as I clung to him, our hearts beating as one in the quiet that followed.