Claimed by the Beast(20)

       
           



       

"I don't need you to take care of me."

"I disagree."

"It's not up to you. I'll stick to the plan, I'll go away for a while.  You need to help Elijah take care of this thing before it comes after  Kayla or the baby. You don't need to take care of me, I've learned over  the last year to do that on my own."

"Not very well from what I've heard," he said, taking a step closer and this time, not stopping when she backed up.

"Where were you anyway? Where were you all this time?" Hurt was  expressing itself now. It was a defensive anger. She knew he had done  what he had to do, didn't she?

"Does it matter?" he asked. He sat down on the bed, shoulders slumped,  looking at her. "If you think a day went by when I didn't think of you,  you're wrong," he said.

Her eyes filled with tears. She was moments from an overflow. "You didn't even call once."

"I thought I was doing what was best for you. Forcing you to forget me."

"But I didn't and you knew I couldn't. It's not how we're made, either  one of us." She knew that at her core: she and Marcus were meant to be  together, had always been. It was just as clear now as ever.

He stood and took a few steps to cover the space between them. He then  put his hands on her arms and rubbed, then held her, looking down at  her. "Nothing has changed for me, Rachel."

"Marcus," she began, tears making it difficult to speak. "I only just  decided to try to let you go," she said. "This isn't fair." She  sniffled, cursing herself for her weakness.

"I know," he said, pulling her into his chest and holding her there while she wept.



* * *



Marcus looked down at the top of her head as she sobbed, her body  trembling in his arms. He hadn't realized how much his leaving her would  hurt her.

He had abandoned her.

Once she quieted, he pulled her back and looked down at her. "I won't let you go again, not ever again, Rachel. I promise."

Her eyes were red from crying and her pale skin blotchy.

"Go wash your face. I'll get the food unpacked for us."

She nodded and quietly walked back into the bathroom to do as he had  said. He unpacked the burgers he had picked up from the only place open:  a fast food restaurant by the exit of the highway.

"Smells good," she said, sitting down on one of the chairs at the table. "I don't remember the last time I ate."

He hated to ask what he had to ask next but better to get it over with.  "Did he hurt you? Did he do anything else to you that you haven't told  us, Rachel?" he asked.

She looked at him, her face flushing red for a second but she shook her  head. "No. He didn't rape me if that's what you're asking."

He nodded and unwrapped his hamburger. They ate in silence. He watched  as she took small bites and barely finished half her sandwich. She  didn't touch her fries and he caught her glancing more than once at the  large bed in the middle of the room.

He ate most of her dinner in addition to his own and cleaned up while  she went to brush her teeth and get ready for bed. She returned wearing a  red tank top and matching boxer shorts, barefoot, her hair loose down  her back. He couldn't help himself as his eyes swept her body, her  narrow shoulders, small breasts with nipples that already pushed through  the fabric of her top. Her waist was as tiny as he remembered and her  hips nicely rounded. She wiggled her toes which were painted a dark red  that matched her top. He smiled and met her eyes, her strange eyes. Her  grandmother had the same, one the palest blue, the other a golden brown.  It was the mark of the women who carried the special gene that allowed  them not only to birth shifters but also to communicate telepathically  with the pack with which they were mated.

Unfortunately though, it made her a target right now.

"Let's get some sleep. I imagine you're pretty tired," he said, pulling back the blankets.

"Yeah, it's the middle of the night," she said, walking over and  climbing into the bed. He tucked her in and pulled his shirt over his  head. Her eyes scanned his chest, his shoulders and he noted how her  cheeks flushed just a little redder.

He went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. Her eyes  were closed when he returned, but he knew from how she was breathing  she hadn't fallen asleep just yet. He stripped off his jeans and climbed  into bed, noting how she slept as far from his side as possible with  her back to him. That wasn't going to do. Marcus settled into the bed,  turned toward her and, draping one arm across her waist, pulled her to  him. She gasped but didn't resist as he tucked her small body into his  own, fitting it there with his knees behind hers, her bottom against his  belly, her back to his chest. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent.  She was using a different shampoo than he remembered but underneath it,  she smelled the same. She smelled like his Rachel, exactly as he  remembered her.                       
       
           



       

"Good night, Rachel," he said, kissing her neck.

He heard her swallow. "Good night, Marcus."



* * *



It was still dark when Rachel's eyelids flew open.

"What is it?" Marcus asked instantly.

It took her a moment to figure out where she was but she exhaled when  she realized it was Marcus who held her now. She was still pressed  against him and could feel the hardness at her bottom. His hardness.

"Rachel?" he asked, pulling his arm back so she could sit up.

She looked at the clock and rubbed her eyes, pushing away the veil of  dark hair that had fallen across her face. "This is impossible," she  said, suddenly shivering.

"What?" he asked again, sitting up, making her look at him.

He looked so beautiful to her, his tanned skin, his hair messy from sleep, his face soft.

"I hear him," she said.

He immediately began to climb out of the bed but she halted him with her  hand on his arm. She shook her head. "No. He's not here," she said, her  face grave. "I heard him like I hear you or Elijah when you shift."

Marcus stared at her, trying to process.

"But that's impossible. You only have that with our pack."

Then he put it together and his expression changed.

"It's the samples he used, isn't it?" she asked. There was something sick in this.

He nodded. "I felt something too that first time. It was familial and it didn't make any sense."

"They used tissue from … "

"From Collin and I," Marcus finished for her.

"This nightmare isn't ever going to be over, is it?" she asked,  imagining what he must be feeling, the memories that likely haunted him  like nothing she could ever imagine. "I'm sorry, Marcus."

He cupped her face and pulled her closer. Reaching down, he brought his  lips to hers in the softest of kisses. She closed her eyes and opened  her mouth, tasting him, nearly choking on the emotion she felt. He moved  his other hand to her face, holding her as his kiss searched, growing  hungrier, more urgent. She made a sound when the very tips of his  fingers traced the line of her neck, followed her collarbone across to  her shoulder, taking the strap of her top down before he pushed her onto  her back and moved his body on top of hers, keeping his weight on his  forearms, never breaking their kiss.

Rachel moaned when he ground his hips against her, his hardness on her  softness. He lifted up for a moment and she opened her eyes to look into  his, seeing his arousal there, the dilated pupils dark, his lips even  fuller if that were possible. He pulled her tank top over her head and  looked at her. She moved to cover herself, embarrassed beneath his gaze.

"No," he said, catching her wrists and taking her arms overhead. "I want to see. I've waited too long."

He kissed her again, this time harder, bruising the delicate skin around  her lips, the growth of stubble across his jaw scratching her face. She  found herself reaching upward with her face as he held her arms  overhead, wanting more of him, wanting his tongue inside her mouth, hers  inside his. He bit into her lower lip and she gasped, opening her eyes.  He smiled and abandoned her mouth to taste her nipples, sucking each  one in turn before moving south, leaving feather light kisses across her  belly, licking her belly button, releasing her arms to grip the sides  of her shorts and pulling them and her panties down over her thighs and  off. He met her gaze for a moment as he settled between her legs,  pushing them wider before moving to kiss her mound.

She opened her mouth but no sound came, just an inhale. She reached for his head.

"Keep your hands on the headboard," he instructed, gripping both of her  inner thighs and pushing them wider, just this side of too much.

Rachel gripped the headboard and closed her eyes when his tongue tickled  her clit before sliding along the inner lips of her pussy.