"Any better and I'd probably be unconscious."
He laughed again and my hips lifted as another spasm shook me. A hiss left his lips as I clamped around him.
"I wanted to take my time," he said.
"Next time?" I suggested.
"I guess we'll have to keep trying until we succeed," he said.
"Sounds like a plan."
* * *
I talkedMarcus into coming into my room to sleep. His mattress was great but too small for both of us to fit on it comfortably. I also slipped into a tank top and a pair of shorts. Like Marcus, I knew Callum wouldn't be above pranking us while we slept. He wouldn't be able to help himself.
In the meantime, I got to fulfill my fantasy of Marcus in my bed. He lounged against my sheets as I tossed my dirty clothes in the hamper and finished getting ready for bed. When I put my pajamas on, he'd slipped on a pair of briefs.
I couldn't complain though because he looked like an advertisement for designer underwear. Especially with his arm raised above his head and his left leg cocked to the side.
"Stop looking at me like that or neither of us will get any sleep," he said, his eyes flaring with blue light.
As great as that sounded, I was a little sore. After nearly two years of no sex and suddenly having a lot of it, my vagina was letting me know I'd overdone it.
I climbed into bed next to him, drawing the sheet and blanket over us. My head rested on his shoulder and I draped one thigh over his. Marcus reached out and turned off the lamp on the nightstand.
I snuggled closer to him. "You're warm."
"So are you," he said, his hand gliding up and down my arm.
"I hate to bring this up now, but we still need to help Dumont."
Marcus sighed. "I know."
I lifted my head and looked at him in the dim light of the bedroom. "You know?"
"Yes. But I don't have to like it."
"If you know, why did you yell at me?" I asked, my voice rising.
"Because I couldn't bear it if you got hurt."
Shit. My irritation faded.
"And I feel like things turned out well, considering," he continued.
I had to agree with him. I settled my head back on his shoulder. "Then, we'll call Dumont tomorrow and let him know that we'll help him."
He growled beneath his breath but didn't say anything.
"Good night," I murmured.
I closed my eyes and let myself drift.
I felt like I'd just fallen asleep when a faint noise woke me. The bed next to me was empty and the house was eerily quiet.
I glanced around the room. The corners were deeply shadowed. The exterior house lights were out. Their glow usually peeked around the corners of the curtains, giving the room just enough light for me to see when I got up at night.
I realized that the house was quiet because there was no power. There was no ambient noise.
Another quiet sound caught my attention and my head swiveled. I peered into the darkness but couldn't see anything.
"Marcus?"
The shadows shifted, coalescing into the shape of a man. A large man. His torso looked like a square block set on thick legs. His head was misshapen.
I backed up against the headboard and sucked in the air to scream.
Before I could let loose the sound, electricity shot through me and locked me in place.
I lost my breath. Then, I lost consciousness.
