The Somerset Series: A Box Set: Books 2-4 Read online

  Marcus's hands reached down to her thighs and he squeezed them possessively before reaching up, taking the skirt of the dress along with him. He didn't stop until it was over her head and accompanying his shirt somewhere on the floor. Her legs coiled around his waist, thrusting her pelvis up against his hardness.

  "Wait," he hissed through his teeth, closing his eyes in order to control himself somehow. "Wait." This time, his voice was softer and he locked eyes with her. "We have all the time in the world."

  "But I want you now," she said, her voice breathy.

  "Good," he said, his voice rough as his arm tightened around her waist, pulling her even more tightly against him. "Cause I want you now too."

  The rest of their clothing was shed within moments, and currently, they were horizontal, bare bodies pressed together, kissing thoroughly but not yet connected. Marcus's hand continued to explore his lover's soft skin, and there were times when he couldn't help but do nothing, save for look at her, look at his mark on her neck. God, she was beautiful.

  Bridgette reached up and locked her arms around his neck, catching his attention so he regarded her through hazel eyes. "Please," she begged, pushing her brow together. "I need you inside of me. Right now."

  Marcus looked at her for a long moment before biting his bottom lip and nodded, pressing his lips on hers before positioning himself over her body. It took a moment, but Marcus wanted everything to be perfect when this happened.

  When he entered her, a million words occupied his mind. His desire for her was coated by her warmth, fitting tightly around him. The sensation was enough to make him growl slightly, and his grip on her tightening. Too many words that were cliché in some way occupied his thoughts, but the one he kept going back to was that out of everything he could use to describe this moment, this feeling, right was the only word that encompassed everything.

  Bridgette thrust her hips up, matching every one of his pumps. It didn't seem to register with her that she was currently making love to a man she had claimed she hated, but she didn't care. It felt too good, too right to stop. And who was she kidding; she had wanted this for a while.

  His hands gripped her hips, raising them up so he could push deeper into her.

  Bridgette felt her pelvis tingle, and her moans became more and more demanding. Marcus could feel her tightening around him; she was close, he knew it. He continued his pace, opening his eyes so he could watch her face infuse with pressure.

  When she reached her climax, Bridgette reached up and bit his neck with her teeth. He roared, feeling himself lose himself in her.

  That was the most powerful act of making love either of them had ever encountered. Their heavy breathing was a testament to that.

  18

  When Bridgette woke up, night seeped into her window. Had she really slept for this long…? It was then that she realized what had happened between her and Marcus. Immediately, her face flared up with shame and she felt tears accumulate in her eyes. How could she have let herself get so caught up in something as physical and meaningless as sex? Yes, he was incredibly good looking and he had saved her life and he caused a passion to flare inside of her that she had never experienced with anybody else.

  The act of making love – could one actually make love when there was no love between the two participants? – thrilled her, excited her, and caused such pleasure that she felt her body shudder at the mere thought of what had occurred this morning.

  Still, she had never been the type of girl that had engaged in one night stands or friends with benefits type of situations in her entire life. No matter how good she found the sex to be.

  What if it wasn't her will to have sex with him? What if it was that stupid mark he had placed on her neck causing her hormones to skyrocket and as a result, her libido could not be controlled? And what if he knew this – he would have to, wouldn't he? He was a werewolf for crying out loud; he had to be familiar with his culture – then that meant he took full advantage of her. He knew she would never say no to him. Not when she was feeling so turned on anyways. He totally took advantage of the situation. He took advantage of her lowered defenses and used it to seek out pleasure.

  How could she be so stupid?

  Bridgette glanced over at Marcus’ sleeping form. He seemed to be naturally warmer than she did, due to the fact that he was a werewolf. Maybe because of this, his whole upper torso was exposed, while the rest of him was barely covered in blankets. Her face heated up just looking at him. Flashes of what happened only hours ago popped into her head, and reminding tremors slid down her body, causing her to inadvertently twitch.

  He was definitely a remarkable specimen, probably the most beautiful thing she had ever laid eyes upon. She could admit that to herself.

  When was the last time she had had sex, anyways? Maybe it was because she hadn't had it in so long – a few years, maybe two? But no; even though she thoroughly enjoyed the activity, she would never engage in the activity solely to get her rocks off.

  So then what happened last night? She knew she had to take some responsibility for her part. She had consented, after all. It wasn't all of Marcus's fault, and who knew, maybe Marcus was just as helpless as she was and they were both innocent victims of their unwanted connection.

  Her eyes sought out the window again, and though they weren't as sharp as Marcus' when it came to seeing in the dark, her vision was pretty good. From where she was lying, she could see that her car was in the same place Marcus had parked it when he had first brought her here, which meant that the keys still had to be in the ignition.

  She looked back at Marcus. She couldn't explain why, but some part of her wanted to stay here with him. She didn't want to marry him; her feelings on that matter hadn't changed, but she loathed him a little less than before. The way she felt when his hands were on her body was indescribable. She kept coming back to the fact that she had never felt this about anybody way before. It was strong, deep, and burned with a passion she had only read about in her romance novels. And it was her reality.

  But it didn't matter. She had to leave. Bridgette had to consider her own logical thinking, her job, and her friends. If she actually wanted to stay here, she would lose everything she had worked so hard to get. So what if Marcus was incredibly breathtaking and that chemistry between the two sizzled like no one she had been with before, the fact of the matter remained; she didn't belong with werewolves no matter what venom was polluting her body. As of now, she was a human and she wanted to go back home.

  Bridgette slipped out of bed as silently as she possibly could. She knew how heightened werewolf senses were, but she hoped that he was sleeping deeply enough in order to not be disturbed. She crept over to where her dress and undergarments were and slipped it on before heading over to the door. She didn't need the clothes she came here with or anything else; she just needed to get in her car and take off.

  On tiptoes, Bridgette crept out of her room and down the stairs. She could hear the cooks preparing dinner – her stomach rumbled in protest at her departure – but had yet to encounter anyone. Somehow, after a few tries, she managed to find the front doors. Before exiting, Bridgette pressed her ear against the door to ensure no hungry wolves were around waiting for her. When she was sure that there were none, she opened the door and slipped into the night. It was cold in her dress, but at that moment, it didn't matter to her. Her mind was too focused that all she could think about was her goal of getting to the car, driving away, and going back home.

  As she thought, the keys were in the ignition.

  That was when Bridgette burst into tears, thankful to whomever it was that looked over her from Heaven above, ensuring that she would escape successfully. She turned on the car, not caring about the noise her engine would surely make. It didn't matter if anybody, even Marcus, awoke – she would be out of there. They wouldn’t be able to stop her now.

  Bridgette, however, was slightly paranoid. Her eyes kept flickering up to her rearview mirror, but she never saw
anyone, and when she finally reached her apartment, she was certain no one was following her.

  The first thing that Bridgette did – after lock her front door and reset her security system - was phone Kendall, who was relieved upon hearing her friend's voice.

  "Where have you been, Bridge?" Kendall asked groggily due to the late time. "Everyone's been so worried about you. We even thought something bad had happened…"

  For a moment, Bridgette wanted to ask just why the NDS hadn't raided Marcus Sterling's mansion upon first hearing of her disappearance. To her, that would have been the logical choice; check out the werewolf that had left his mark on her. But apparently the NDS didn't exactly think like Bridgette, and Bridgette didn't want to take her frustration out on Kendall.

  "I'll tell you all about it," she said, suddenly exhausted. "Do you mind coming over, though? I know it's a lot to ask for, but I…" Bridgette hesitated, glancing away though she wasn't really looking at anyone in the first place. "I really don't want to be alone right now."

  "Of course," Kendall murmured. "I'll be there in a half an hour, okay? I have to get ready."

  Once Bridgette got off the phone with her friend, she drew herself a hot bath and forced her muscles to relax. By the time she had finished, her skin was wrinkling and warm to touch. But she was soothed and calm, and that was all she had wanted in the first place.

  Kendall arrived moments afterward, and Bridgette let her in. Though Kendall claimed she had to get ready, she was still wearing a pair of pajamas while Bridgette opted to stay in her fluffy white bathrobe.

  "So," Kendall said once the two were seated comfortably on Bridgette's couch. "Are you okay? Do you want to talk, or would you feel more comfortable with me just being here rather than listening to what you have to say."

  "I'd like to talk, if that's okay," Bridgette admitted. "I'm sort of confused about everything that has happened recently..."

  "For as long as you want," Kendall assured her friend, and to emphasize the point, she reached out and squeezed Bridgette's shoulder.

  In the next hour and a half, Bridgette told Kendall absolutely everything. She hoped beyond a reasonable doubt that if she could trust anyone, Kendall would be that person. They had met during their university days and had been close ever since. Bridgette just hoped that Kendall would be able to keep her secret.

  It wasn't as though Bridgette had done anything wrong, necessarily. But she also knew that such strong feelings for a werewolf were definitely against protocol, and if humans, regular unassuming humans, found out about this, she would be ridiculed and discriminated against. Having romantic feelings for a werewolf or a vampire was similar to having a strange sexual fetish; it wasn't yet accepted in society, despite a couple of movements that different support groups have participated in.

  Bridgette didn't want to have these feelings anyways. She wanted to go back to normal before any of this had happened, where the only thing on her mind was wondering if she was going to get that promotion, excitement for the next mission, and idly wondering if Clive had a thing for her or if his behavior was normal for him.

  Now she had too many things piling inside of her mind that it hurt to think. And to top it off, the highest on her list was Marcus and his chiseled face. No matter what happened to her, if she was allowed to go back to normal, she knew that he would forever haunt her thoughts and dreams.

  Somewhere, someplace inside of Bridgette smiled at this, though the she refused to acknowledge it, because even if such a thing was true, she would still have a part of him with her, despite their distance.

  19

  He probably should have felt her leave or noticed that her scent was already fading when he woke up early the next morning. Despite everything that had happened, however, he had just experienced the best slumber he had had in a while. His body felt completely relaxed and the stress that usually occupied his thoughts had nearly vanished, or at least, been pushed to the side temporarily. It was as though everything he had to endure, experienced, went through in his life, was worth it because it added up to the moment he had with Bridgette. Everything was worth it. He had never felt so… complete.

  Marcus knew she was gone when he opened his hazel eyes, but for some odd reason, he wasn't worried or perturbed by the fact. Instead, he pushed himself up and glanced at the floor of Bridgette's former bedroom. A wolfish smile slipped onto his face; she had left her undergarments behind in the rush to get out of here. Marcus was not inexperienced when it came to sex and sexual pleasure, but he had never felt so alive when making love to the woman.

  Was it really making love when there were surely no such feelings between the two?

  Whatever it was, it was mind-blowing, and that was saying the least.

  He could still smell her scent surrounding him. The sweet, light vanilla aroma wafted through his senses and in a moment of rare vulnerability, he closed his eyes and let himself relax even more into it. She was bewitching him, mind, body, and soul. Maybe it was the effects of the mark he had recently placed on her neck, but he was beginning to like her more than originally planned.

  Her face filled his thoughts, and his mind's eyes went over every inch of skin, every freckle, every curve, every imperfection that made up the woman he had deemed to be the definition of perfect. Nothing should change when it came to her physical appearance. Everything fit perfectly for her; she was everything he wanted in a mate – and that was even before he had ever seen her. He liked long hair, sharp features, an hourglass figure, luscious hips that not only seduced onlookers but would be fully capable of housing a child, and toned legs. As he thought about her, Marcus realized he was particularly drawn to her smile – when she did smile – though her eyes came in a close second.

  "Get a grip on yourself, man," he told himself in a gravelly voice.

  For someone who claimed to barely like Bridgette Barker, he sure seemed to find a lot of attributes to adore.

  Was adore the wrong word?

  Marcus glanced over at the grandfather clock on the far side of the room, chewing his bottom lip gently. Because he was a werewolf, his teeth were infinitely sharper than a human's and it was necessary that he be careful when he did such things lest he wanted to bleed. They would probably be expecting him for breakfast sometime soon and he would rather that they not barge in on him while he was indisposed. To be honest, he was surprised they hadn't let themselves in when neither he nor Bridgette had returned from their discussion after leaving breakfast the previous day.

  Maybe they knew what was happening and didn't want to disturb them. But if that were true, then surely that would mean the Elders were giving him their consent.

  Marcus wasn't sure why the mere thought of such a thing caused his whole body to warm, but it did. Just because the sex was better than any he had ever experienced didn't mean that he wanted to marry her. And hypothetically, even if he did, it wasn't like she wanted to marry him. No matter how Marcus felt about her, he would never force Bridgette to marry him if she didn't want to.

  There was still a problem, however. Because his venom was stronger than a regular pack member's, it was highly likely that Bridgette would no doubt be transforming into a werewolf. The chances of her survival were slim but if she had to go through it alone, the chances decreased even more. Marcus didn't want that to happen. If nothing else happened between them, if she was still adamant about rejecting him as her mate, then fine, but he would not be willing to risk her life. She needed support and he could give it to her; his pack could give it to her.

  Not that Marcus was going to go out of his way to be nice to her. She had disrespected him by abruptly walking out after a moment of uncontrollable passion without so much as a goodbye. He could feel his teeth clench and his anger pick up once again as he threw on his clothing. How could she disrespect him and his pack by leaving without a word after all he had done for her?

  A growl lodged itself in his throat. And what about the fact that she could be seeing somebody else? A voice asked,
only causing his anger to flare up even more. Another man touching her the same way he had been hours ago…

  This time, he couldn't help himself and opened his mouth, emitting a threatening growl at no one in particular. She wouldn't do that, would she? Just the mere thought of another man touching what was his… He couldn't think about it. His fury would overwhelm his senses and he would –

  He needed to get her back.

  The question was how. He wouldn't force her to marry him, but did he have any qualms about grabbing her and keeping her here? She obviously didn't want to be here.

  Maybe he could talk her into it…

  When he exited the room, Julianne was leaning on the wall adjacent to the door. Her shoulders were resting on the wood while her back arched, pressing her chest up and emphasizing her breasts in some way. She was dressed in a simple dress; nobody really dressed formally unless the occasion called for it, and her fingers were mindlessly toying with her straight, ebony colored locks.

  "Good morning Marcus," she greeted in a husky voice. "My, my, you've been asleep for a while, haven't you?"

  Marcus narrowed in her direction, but he managed to control his increasing anger. Instead of taking it out on her, he curled his fingers so his hands made tight fists. It wasn't Julianne's fault that he was upset, and therefore, he should, at least, try to ensure that he didn't snap at somebody, despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to do that right then. He brushed past her, not sparing her another glance, his thoughts swimming with how to solve his dilemma.

  "Marcus," she called in an uncharacteristically sharp voice before rushing to catch up with him. It was as though Marcus hadn't heard her because he kept walking.

  In truth, Marcus really didn't want to talk to anyone right now, least of all not Julianne. "Marcus. Is Bridgette still sleeping? Should we be expecting her at breakfast?"

  Marcus stopped, his whole body going rigid upon hearing her name. He arched his head in Julianne's direction, but the movement was rigid.