The Calling - Honor Calls Part 3

He had warned her that he couldn't go slowly and her actions only made it even more impossible to hold back.

As much as he regretted leaving her, he ripped his hands from her body and made short work of stripping off her boots, socks and jeans, revealing impossibly long legs and the nest of curls at the juncture of her lush thighs.

He stared down at her, appreciating the beauty she offered.

Fierce femininity, he realized. s.e.xy strength wrapped around an intensely private and vulnerable soul.

A soul that needed this night's satisfaction and respite.

He intended to give her the evening she desired.

Quickly he undid his belt and pants. He dropped them, but didn't bother to remove them.

He secured her hips in his hands and poised his erection at her entrance. The ripple of her desire beneath his fingers and at the tip of his p.e.n.i.s urged him on.

Michaela gasped as he penetrated her in one sure thrust and then waited for her to accommodate the size of him.

So large.

Scalding heat within her, igniting her ardor.

She held her breath, overwhelmed by the sensation of him. Overwhelmed by his barely controlled pa.s.sion.

Then he destroyed her.

He tenderly brushed his thumb across her cheek as he whispered against her lips, "Let go, Michaela. I'll be here to catch you."

Chapter 7.

Let go.

It had been so long since she had allowed herself such freedom. Since she had been able to trust anyone enough to permit herself such liberties.

Now, here he was. Promising so much. Unaware of the impossibilities of his promise.

But for this one night, she intended to believe as he did.With a subtle roll of her hips, she accepted what he offered and took him deeper within.

He dropped his head to kiss her, his mouth open on hers, tasting her. Sucking in her breath while he drove into her, his movements steady and sure.

She cupped the back of his head and played her tongue against his, mimicking the movements of their bodies, but then he s.h.i.+fted away to lick and bite her nipples.

She held him near as her body answered the call of his, rising ever higher. Need tightened into a knot deep within that had her rocking her hips in rhythm to his thrusts and arching her back so that he might more easily savor her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Then suddenly it came, wrapping around the center of her and stealing her breath. Forcing her ever higher against him as the sharp explosion of pa.s.sion burst throughout her body. Dragging a strangled scream from her as she dug her nails into his shoulders.

He stilled his thrusts, kissed her lips and whispered, "Let go, Michaela."

She did.

A second later the full force of her climax washed over her, so intense that her body shook from the power of it. Around his erection, her muscles tightened, as if afraid he would leave, but then he slowly pulled out and the slick friction of his withdrawal yanked a protest from her.

Jesus answered that protest, driving in again and again, his forehead leaning on hers. His mouth swallowed her gasps and sighs of pleasure as he drew out her release until unbearable pressure built inside him.

She must have sensed it since she reached down and cupped him, caressing him and dragging a finger along the sensitive gap right behind his s.c.r.o.t.u.m.

Her touch undid him.

With a sharp swift inhalation, he buried himself so deeply it almost seemed he might split her in half. He spilled his seed in her womb, his body taut. His back arched as he closed his eyes and experienced every nuance of her body, became intoxicated by the smell of her, now marked by his sweat and release.

Michaela watched him as her own climax ebbed around him, the last fluttering motions rippling across his erection as it nestled within her. Milking the seeds of life that could never find fertile soil within her.

His arms were braced at her sides until she laid her hands on his forearms and ran them up to his shoulders. With a gentling touch, she said his name and urged him down onto her. He came willingly, laying his head beside hers, his larger body nearly engulfing her as she lay pressed beneath him.

"Am I too heavy?" he asked and she shook her head.

"No," she replied, welcoming the protective weight of him. She continued her caresses, wanting this tenderness after the intense way they had taken one another.

He brought one hand to grasp her waist, slowly running it up and down her side in a soothing motion. He waited until the tremors had left both their bodies and their breathing had slowed to a regular tempo. Only then did he pull away from her to remove the rest of his clothes. Almost before she could notice his absence, he was back by her side.

He urged her upward on the bed until they were once again lying beside one another. Her head was pillowed on his shoulder; her one thigh tucked between his legs while his arms held her close.

She had wanted physical satisfaction and gotten it.She hadn't counted on this.

The loving caress of his hand along her back.

The way she was surrounded by him and not just physically.

There was unexpected security in his embrace. A surprising sense of dependability.

Not that it would last.

Jesus sensed her pulling away from him even though she had barely s.h.i.+fted physically. It was more in the way a slight tension had crept into her body. When she looked up at him, that furrow of worry was back between her finely shaped brows.

"Running already?" he asked softly, but he didn't stop the gentle glide of his hand along her back.

"Is that what you think I do? Hit and run?"

She moved away from him then and he immediately felt the absence as the night chill replaced her warmth.

"Am I wrong?" He spread his hands across her back to keep her from escaping.

She shook her head and looked away, but much as he was determined not to let her leave, he would not abide her hiding her emotions from him.

He cupped the side of her face and tenderly urged it upward. That was when he noted that her dark brown eyes were bleeding out to the weird blue-green gleam he had seen earlier that night.

Fighting back the fear he suspected she wanted to see, he injected calm into his voice. "Who are you, Michaela?"

"You mean what, don't you?" she asked, a low inhuman rumble in her tone. A slight bit of fang nipped just below the edge of her full upper lip.

He could take a guess at the what, although he was still finding it difficult to believe, even with the proof staring him in the face. He mustered control over his gut reaction to the unexpected, then realized he was neither fearful nor repulsed.

She'd made him feel more than he had ever felt before. Because of that, he was willing to suspend his usually strict approach to learn more about her.

"No, not what, Michaela. Who? Who are you and why are you doing this?"

Christ, she thought, completely at a loss on how to deal with him.

With her vampire powers engaged, there was no missing the slightly hurried beat of his heart and the chill and tension that had crept into his body. Sure signs of fear, not that he was revealing it.

Or giving in to it, she thought, totally puzzled and unbalanced by his reaction.

By him.

"You're afraid of me, but you're not fleeing?"

He laughed harshly. "I didn't get to be an ADIC by s.h.i.+tting my pants and running at the first sign of trouble. So you can cut out the whole creature-of-the-night routine-if that's what it is-'cuz I'm not going anywhere."

She morphed back to her human state and realized his response proved what she had initially thought about him-he was a man used to dealing with danger.

A man who might be prepared to deal with her.

So she gave him his answer, praying that once she did, things would return to the way they should be so that she could figure out what to do about him.

"I'm a dhampir."

Chapter 8.

He shot her a perplexed look and raised one full dark brow. "A dhampir? Care to explain?"

"Half vamp, half human. Stronger than a human, but weaker than a vampire."

With his thumb, he traced the lines of her mouth, parted her lips to reveal the now perfectly straight edges of her teeth.

"Do you bite? Humans, that is?" he asked.

She bit down on his thumb with her teeth, making his erection jump against her belly.

"Guess a little fang in a girl doesn't bother you?"

He shrugged, clearly guarding his reaction. "Depends on the girl. Depends on why she's busy staking vampires in my city."

"Your city?" As if to prove just how little was truly his, she reached between them and stroked him, fully rousing his erection to life, loving the jerky jump of his body that prompted a sympathetic twitch between her legs.

Jesus knew he'd be hard pressed to deny he still wanted her despite the discovery of what she might be. She held the proof of his desire in her very capable hands. But he suspected he wasn't the only one who couldn't resist.

Cradling her breast in his hand, he idly rubbed his thumb across the hard tip of her nipple.

"My city. My rules," he stressed.

She chuckled and increased the pressure of her hand. She inched upward on the bed until her lips were against his and the spill of her breath flavored his every inhale.

"I warned you before. Your FBI rules have no place in my world and the vampires have no place in yours."

He kissed the edges of her lips. Tasted the sweet straight lines of her teeth with his tongue before he said, "Wrong, querida. I came to this place because its violence has already touched my world and I need to stop it."

"Like you may one day have to stop me?"

"Yes. I will stop you if I need to."

Her body went rigid. She ceased her caresses and moved away from him both physically and spiritually. As he met her gaze, the gleam of unshed tears s.h.i.+mmered in her eyes, but she held them back as she said, "I won't let you prevent me from what I have to do. Honor demands that I finish what I've started."

"What have you started? Why did you stake that vamp?"

She shook her head and bit her bottom lip before she finally faced him. "They raped my mother. That's how I came to be born.

She managed to escape them, but they came after us." Jesus grabbed hold of her fisted hands. "They wanted you dead?"

She nodded and a lone tear escaped, tracking down her face.

"They wanted my mother dead. They got their wish," she said and told him her story.

New Jersey Sh.o.r.e Twenty Years Earlier Her mother was bleeding.

Michaela could feel the warmth and wet of it drip down onto her as her mother held her hand and dragged her through the tall marsh gra.s.ses along the edges of the dunes. The stalks, dry from a lack of summer rain, crackled, the noise overly loud in the silence of the night.

Too loud, Michaela thought, recalling the creature that had attacked them. The creature who would surely hear them pounding and cras.h.i.+ng through the gra.s.ses as they tried to escape.

Suddenly her mother stopped short and shoved Michaela away toward a larger patch of foliage.

She fell to the ground, the sharp edges of the gra.s.ses biting into her palms as the tall stalks swallowed her up. The saw edges of the plants cut her hands and arms, but she bit down on her lower lip to stifle her cry of pain, aware the sound would reveal where she was.

Aware that her mother was ready to sacrifice her life to hide her daughter.

Holding her breath, Michaela tried not to move as she peered through the ever-s.h.i.+fting ma.s.s of dune gra.s.s.

Her mother stood, her chin at a defiant tilt. Blood dripped down the side of her face from a large gash above her brow. The blood looked black thanks to the palette of the night. Her face was washed to a pale green hue by the light of the full moon.