ENTANGLED (34 page)

“Now, lay back,” he demanded when she struggled to sit up. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

Lost blood? To him, she realized with a start. Mary Ellen sank into the bed. He’d fed on her. Her blood was in his body. She should have been disgusted, so why was she oddly touched? Why did she feel closer to him than no woman should feel toward a man she wasn’t married to?

He settled on the bed beside her, his thigh touching hers and even though their clothing separated their skin, she felt his touch all the way to her toes. Gently, he brushed the hair from her forehead. Chills and heat swirled through her body, pooling into an aching need low in her gut. This man wasn’t meek and passive. This man would fight for her. Most importantly, this man would fight for life. He would not be bowed down with hardship.

“Mary Ellen, I need you to do something for me.”

Odd thoughts swirled through her head as the bed lulled her into its softness. Her lashes drifted down, her eyes so bloody tired. Her body cold, numb, so she wasn’t sure where she began and ended.

“Mary Ellen,” he snapped.

“Hmm?” she managed.

Warm hands cupped the sides of her face. “Listen to me, Mary Ellen. Please, keep your eyes open.”

But her lashes felt so heavy, her mind buzzing with numbness. “You’re so warm.” She turned her face into his hand.

“Because of your blood. Our bodies warm when we feed.”

“Oh,” she whispered, too tired to react properly to that odd statement. “I just need a little nap, all right?”

“No, not all right. Listen to me. I took too much blood.” She didn’t miss the way his voice caught with what could only be emotion. “You need to do something for me, all right?”

“Right,” she murmured, wanting so badly to listen to him, to understand the emotion she swore she heard in his voice.

He lifted his arm and put his wrist to his mouth, using his teeth, he scraped a line across the pale skin. Brilliant red blood welled from the wound. Aghast, Mary Ellen used her remaining strength in an attempt to sit upright. “What are you doing? Stop!” The movement was too much. The entire room spun and Aidan faded from view. She felt his strong hands pushing her back into the mattress.

“Drink.”

She lifted her lashes, his wounded arm in front of her, an offering of sorts. A strange offering. She wasn’t sure if she should be disgusted, or honored.

“Will drinking your blood turn me into one of you?” she managed.

“A vampire? No. A person is born this way.” He cupped the back of her head with his uninjured arm.

“I see.” But she didn’t see, she didn’t understand anything other than, for some reason, Aidan wanted her to drink his blood.

He sighed. “You must drink, do you understand? You must, in order to regain your strength.”

She nodded, but her eyelids were growing so heavy, her lashes fluttering down. Something warm pressed to her lips. The coppery taste of blood raced across her tongue, but somehow different…almost sweet. Her cravings stirred and she eagerly swept her tongue across Aiden’s wrist. His blood. Her blood. A desperation surged through her, a need for more.

Her fingers found his arms and she gripped his wrist, bringing him closer. Aidan’s blood pulsed through her body, filling her soul, bringing her back to life. Her very fingers and toes tingled with awareness as if she was coming back from a long, deep sleep. She could feel his heart pound against her, inside her, everywhere.

As warmth filled her soul, sated, she pulled back, falling into the pillows. Dust particles floated like flakes of silver on moonbeams coming in through the open windows. Aidan’s lovely face peered down at her, marble in the moonlight. She had never seen anyone so beautiful. Unable to resist, she reached out and smoothed her fingers down the side of his face, marveling over the feel of a new growth of whiskers on his cheeks.

“You’re better?” he asked, his gaze filled with concern…and something else…something that made her insides practically melt.

“Yes.”

He swallowed hard, his gaze searching her eyes. “Mary Ellen, there are things I need to explain—”

She latched onto his shirt and pulled him forward, pressing her lips to his. She didn’t want an explanation, she wanted him. What could he possibly need to explain? His warm body sank into her, molding to her form as if they fit together like puzzle pieces. When his velvet tongue slipped between her lips, she opened for him, deepening the kiss.

With a groan that stirred her lust, he wedged his knee between her thighs, spreading her legs as wide as her skirts would allow. How had she never taken the time to soak in his spicy scent? How had she not noticed how muscled his body was underneath the layers of his clothing? And how had she not noticed how truly brave he was?

Because she’d kept her distance and she knew why now…she was afraid of falling for the man. A man with no connections, no family, no money. Afraid she’d end up poor and miserable.

Money no longer mattered. She was no longer fighting her attraction. It didn’t matter that she had lived in poverty most of her life and had sworn never to again. It didn’t matter that her eldest sister had died in childbirth after eloping with a poor Irishman. None of that mattered but him.
Aiden.
The man who had risked his life for her. The man who had given her his blood.

His warm hands moved up her legs, bunching the material of her skirts.

“Clothing, all these layers,” she muttered against his mouth. “Are completely overrated.”

Chuckling, he pushed himself up and ripped the shirt from his torso, tossing the poor garment to the floor. His chest was wide, carved muscle sprinkled with dark hair. Unable to resist, Mary Ellen sat up and ran her hands over his skin, spreading her fingers through the crisp hair while he worked the buttons on the back of her bodice.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” he whispered into her ear, a soft breath that tickled the loose tendrils.

His words brought tears of regret to her eyes. How stupid she’d been. He wanted her. She wanted him. She’d just taken longer to admit her feelings. Blast it all, she couldn’t hold back her feelings any longer. Her bodice came loose and he tossed it to the floor where his shirt lay. When his hands moved to her corset, her fingers boldly found the clasp of his trousers, their hands in a frantic race.

“I’ve dreamt about you night after night,” he whispered.

Her corset came undone and was tossed to the pile of clothing on the floor.

“I think about you during the day.” His hands cupped her breasts, her nipples beaded and hard through the thin fabric of her shift.

Mary Ellen moaned as a heated flush rushed through her body and pooled in that feminine spot between her legs. She’d been attracted to men before, but never like this. Every impure thought she’d had toward Aiden since meeting him, every feeling she’d tried to keep at bay, surged through her body in a dizzying whirl that left her breathless.

“You’re so lovely.” His mouth caught hers once more as his hands found the smooth skin where her stockings ended. He had her garters undone with a flick of his fingers. As his hand moved toward that nest of curls shielding her femininity, he deepened the kiss.

His fingers found her wet and ready. Mary Ellen gasped, arching her back and taking his fingers deeper. Entranced in a state of utter bliss, she didn’t protest when he drew the silk stockings down her legs. Nothing but her shift remained.

She knew she should have been embarrassed, but God help her, she only wanted more of him, all of him. Mary Ellen reached for the waistband of his trousers and pulled them down his hips far enough that the hard bulge she’d felt pressing to her thighs sprang loose. Tentatively, she reached for him. His body was like pure stone, muscles carved from marble. He was a work of art, to be admired. She drew her fingers down his shaft, marveling over the hard velvet feel of him.

“You’re going to kill me with your sweetness.” With a groan, he lowered himself, his body pressing her into the bed. Their gazes met and held, his eyes intense, so intense. “I know I shouldn’t do this. I’m a bloody bastard for taking advantage of you, but I don’t care. I want you, and you will be mine.”

His words brought a heated thrill through her form. He pressed his lips to hers in a searing kiss as his hands dragged her shift down her body. The hair on his chest tickled her nipples. Hard and soft, the stark contrast of their bodies was completely erotic. His hands moved up her thighs to the curls hiding her femininity.

“So lovely,” he whispered as his finger slipped between her damp folds. “So ready.”

When his thumb found the sensitive nub, Mary Ellen cried out, arching her back. Pleasure after pleasure rippled through her.

“Say you want me,” he demanded.

“Yes, please, Aidan. Please.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, adoring the way the moonlight hit the angles of his fierce face. A lock of dark hair had fallen across his forehead, but did little to soften his features. How could she have ever thought he was dull and weak?

“Tell me you’ll be mine forever.”

A shiver of awareness moved through her body. She knew he meant the words. She knew by agreeing she was bonding herself to him forever. God help her, she wanted to. “Yes.”

He shoved his knee between her smooth thighs. His erection pressed to her folds, the shaft like warm velvet against her sensitive skin. She couldn’t think straight when he touched her that way, when he whispered words of endearment into her ears. The ache that flared to life was almost unbearable. Mary Ellen arched her back, rubbing his erection between her thighs. She hadn’t a clue what she was doing, but when Aidan groaned, she knew she was doing something right.

Aiden shifted and she felt the thick tip of his cock press between her folds. “I love you, Mary Ellen,” he said against her lips. “I’ve loved you since the first day I saw you.”

For some reason, perhaps it was the intensity in his gaze, or the fact that she wanted to so badly, but she actually believed him.

Aiden thrust forward, surging into her. Mary Ellen gasped as she felt the brief sting of pain. In her haste to have him completely, she’d forgotten the fact that it would hurt.

“You’re mine, Mary Ellen,” Aidan whispered against her mouth. “Now and forever.”

And he was hers. She could feel his blood coursing through her being. Feel his heart throbbing against her chest. Aidan was hers. Completely and utterly.

He rocked his hips forward and any pain vanished. Aching need erupted deep within and Mary Ellen dug her nails into his back. “Yes, Aiden, please!”

His large hands moved up her thighs, cradling her backside and bringing her closer to his body. “I love the way you pay such close attention to your clothing and hair as if you treasure your garments and ribbons.”

She was barely aware of the words he said, only knew she wanted him to say more, touch her more, kiss her more. Mary Ellen pressed her lips to his shoulder tasting his salty skin.

He lifted his hips and thrust into her again. The ache inside her flared to life, desperate for release. “I love the way you only read romantic poetry and gothic books, needing your happily ever after.”

She groaned beneath him, wrapping her legs around his, bringing him deeper still.

Aidan lifted his hips. “I love that you never want to hear bad news and leave the room if someone enters with a dark topic.” He thrust into her again. Pleasure rippled through her womb. Mary Ellen cried out.

Aidan lifted his hips, his grip on her buttocks tightening. “And I love that you spend your days making sure the neighbors have enough clothing and food for winter.” He pressed a soft, gentle kiss to her lips. “But most of all, I love you.”

He thrust into her one last time and Mary Ellen burst into a million white stars, spinning, twisting, floating through a reality she never, ever wanted to leave.

Three Months Later

“You look lovely.” Meg gently smoothed the skirt of Mary Ellen’s dress.

The cream-colored gown Mary Ellen wore with the silk material and capped sleeves that hung off her shoulders wasn’t ideal for winter weather, but she didn’t mind. When she’d seen the material she’d had to have it. The gown shimmered and glowed in the lamplight and complimented her red hair. The pearls at her throat and entwined in her curly locks were simple, but stunning.

“You were married in the evening,” Mary Ellen said softly, watching her sister in the mirror. She’d always been close to Meg, but felt even closer to her now. Meg understood what it was like to be married to a man like Aidan.

Meg paused. “Yes.” The blue gown she wore was cinched in at the waist, showing her lovely figure.

“As I will be.”

Meg nodded. “Yes.”

They were silent for one long moment, lost in thought. So many emotions swirled through Mary Ellen, she wasn’t sure which to grasp onto. Nervousness. Excitement. Hope. Perhaps even a little fear, for everything was so bloody perfect.