Free City of the Fallen by Diana Bocco Page A

He could feel the rabids closing in on him.
     

Chapter 9
     
    She had spent most of the day thinking about him and what happened the night before. Replaying the skin and the kisses and the fire over and over again. Until she felt like she was about to go insane if she didn’t find a way to press pause on the movie playing in her head.
     
    So she’d kept herself busy by exploring the courtyards and trying to make sense of the layout of the place. Figuring out the connections of the different sections and where each door led gave her a headache, so she ended up returning to the memories of the previous night over and over.
     
    By the time Miles came to get her, she was going insane with anticipation.
     
    The minute she got back into Marcus’ room and saw the outline of his form in the darkness, a weight lifted and she could finally relax. She let out a sigh and immediately realized she’d been half-breathing the entire day.
     
    “You can sit down, Belle.”
     
    Belle . The nickname sounded like music on his lips.
     
    She found a plush sofa and sat down. God, he’s beautiful . In the semi-darkness of the room, his eyes almost sparkled. Every time he moved, the ripples in his muscles flexed and tensed up. Flashes of skin against skin looped through her mind.
     
    She blushed and he groaned in response.
     
    “Stop it,” he whispered. “I can hear your heart from here.”
     
    She took a deep breath and tried to steady the beating in her chest. Then he got closer to sit on the couch and her heart went on a frenzied dash again.
     
    Damn it.
     
      “You have no idea how tempting that sound is,” he said.
     
    It was taking all of her willpower not to move closer. Judging by the tightness in his neck and shoulders, it was obvious he was feeling the same.
     
    “I need to talk to you,” he said. It sounded almost like a complaint.
     
    She nodded, mainly because she wasn’t sure she could actually speak without moaning in the process.
     
    Before she even realized what she was doing, she licked her lips. Marcus groaned and frantically reached for her, his mouth closing on hers. There was none of the gentle touch of the night before. No exploring or waiting for a reaction.
     
    Without breaking the kiss, he picked her up and moved her over to the bed. She felt weightless in his arms, her mind reeling in his power. She wasn’t sure how it happened, but most of their clothes were off in seconds. His scent, earthly and otherworldly all mixed into one, washed over her. It was intoxicating and she had to catch her breath because she felt like falling, sliding quickly into a dark abyss of fire and craving. 
     
    His mouth reached for her breast, then slid down her body, leaving branding marks everywhere he touched, searing, scorching heat taking over until it hurt. Until she wanted to cry out in desperation, begging for more.
     
    His lips and his tongue moved over the inside of her thighs, teasing and tasting. With one finger, he reached down and pulled the elastic of her underwear off, the last remaining item of clothing between them gone. Then he slid the finger to rest over her swollen clit, starting a slow circling motion. Her gasp reached towards him like a wave, enticing and feverish. She could feel his hunger reaching out in return, pulling, demanding satisfaction. The craving of the beast, hammering to get out and take what it needed. What it craved.
     
    He had an effect on her that she couldn’t explain. Once he touched her, any sense of control in her shattered, ramped-up ache and need consuming her.
     
    The combination of his tongue and his fingers on her were driving her insane. When his tongue circled her clit and then plunged into her, she bucked into him. It was too much. Everything about him was too much. The intensity of his touch, the way he seemed to enjoy her taste, the longing he awoke in her.
     
    Then his fangs grazed the skin of her thigh and her whole body stirred. The groan that came