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Moon Kissed

Page 8

by Michele Hauf


  “Works for me.”

  She stepped out and twirled up to him. Her skirts spun wide and crushed against his legs. His fingers glided through her hair and he drew the veil of soft brown tresses across his face.

  “I want to dance with you,” she said.

  “Oh, we’ll dance.”

  The skim of his fingers down her midriff stirred a rhythm in her blood similar to the insistent beat of flamenco. Bella palmed his hands and guided his movements up, over her breasts. He glided his palms across the sensitive swells, cupping them and thumbing the nipples.

  “I don’t like it when you wear a bra. Harder to get to the sweets.” He nipped her breasts through the fabric.

  “I have to when I’m dancing. Don’t want to be jiggling all over.”

  “Mmm, no. Only for me.”

  Bella’s appreciative purr drew him closer.

  At her neck he kissed the heat of her pulse. Once, twice. A dash of his tongue sent shivers across her flesh.

  A tilt and twist of her hips spun her about, so that the pulse of his heart beat against her shoulder blade. Bella pressed her derriere into his groin. His wanting moan gave her a smile.

  He caressed her breast, cupping it, squeezing. His low sigh vibrated against her back. The sound of a man’s pleasure proved a delicious aphrodisiac. Alone, in a room lit only by the low bulb over the kitchen stove, Bella danced with the only man she desired.

  Spinning, she placed her hands on his shoulders. The dancing shoes only put her eye level with his mouth, so she lifted en pointe to claim a kiss. Vodka tainted his breath. Desire quickened his motions.

  He lifted her with ease and turned her around to set her upon the back of the couch.

  It felt right, the two of them coming together in this strange dance that was not quite human and not quite sane.

  That thought put her off.

  Bella slid from the couch and walked a few steps, the nails pounded into her shoe heels clicking precisely. Severo caught her hand and spun her to face him. The aggressive alpha that she’d experienced most often was not present in his eyes. Instead she saw a gentle pleading and knew that he silently wondered why she was so reluctant.

  She knew the answer. It pounded in her heart.

  “I’m afraid,” she replied, “that I could fall in love with you.”

  “What’s so wrong with love?”

  “Nothing. Only, I’m not sure I’m looking at this rationally.”

  “And the rational viewpoint would be?”

  “One mortal human fooling around with one nonmortal werewolf. How far off the sanity scale is that one?”

  “Are you disgusted by me, Bella?”

  “Not at all. Well, you initially put me off. I mean, I was freaked that night the vampires were chasing me, and you did come on strong and a little creepy—but not anymore. Now? I find you the most attractive man I’ve ever known.”

  “You mean that?”

  She nodded. “You’re so sexy. Every time you’re close to me, it’s like my body responds before my brain can process the information. I hunger for a glance from you. I ache for a touch. I want you, Severo. And that scares me.”

  “The werewolf isn’t going to intrude upon our liaisons, Bella, if that is what concerns you.”

  It did. And it didn’t. Honestly, she was unsure about how quickly their relationship was moving. Sure, she’d had a couple of one-night stands before. Sometimes two people came together to have sex, nothing more.

  But her and Severo? It was much more than one night of sex to serve a need. It had to be.

  “You’re thinking too much, sweet. I won’t hurt you.”

  “I know you won’t.” It wasn’t physical hurt she worried about, but the emotional pain he might cause. Could she, a mortal woman, do this?

  “Take off your clothes,” he said.

  Yes. Just surrender. Let it happen, Bella. You want him.

  Bella bent to pick up his tumbler, saying over her shoulder, “You want them off? Come and get me.”

  She wasn’t sure how he made it to the kitchen counter before she did, but Severo met her there, took the tumbler and placed it in the sink, then lifted her into his arms. “Your wish is my command.”

  When she thought he might carry her to the bed, he stopped at the couch and set her on the arm. Okay, this was good. Not as much pressure as she would have endured if he had gone to the bed. They were easing into things slowly.

  A stroke of his hand slipped the sleeve from one of her shoulders and then the other. His hot breath skimmed her skin from the top of her arm to the base of her neck, burning into her, marking her.

  Grasping for an anchor against the dizzying pull of his command, Belle grabbed his shirt in her fists.

  He remained focused on her, kissing the bodice of her top and tugging the stretchy rayon lower with his mouth. His hand glided down and slid her skirt high up her thigh.

  She began to slip off her shoes, but he said, “No, leave them on. I like them. They’re so powerful.”

  He pulled the top to her waist. Her bra clasped in front, and with but a flick from Severo’s fingers, it snapped open and the straps slipped to her elbows. He took her nipples with hungry precision, and Bella arched backward. Mercy, she loved his mastery of her body.

  With one strong hand across her back, he lifted her and wrapped her legs about his waist. The wide flamenco skirts splayed along his legs. He ripped off his shirt and then unzipped his pants, and she tugged them down his hips.

  Once she saw the prize, her inhibitions fled. It was thick and heavy in her palm. Bella gripped it firmly.

  “You’re in a hurry.” Not so much a question as an agreement. “I still haven’t landed on third base.” He reached down and struggled with the many yards of skirt fabric. A toss spilled ruffles over her stomach and breasts. “Let me get your panties off.”

  Elastic ripped as his urgency ignored caution. He mumbled, “Sorry,” but there was little care in the word.

  Bella wrapped her legs tight about him, hugging his hard, hot shaft against her stomach. As she moaned, he pumped against her, sliding his erection over her bare flesh.

  He kissed her across her collarbone, the base of her neck, the rise of her breasts. She put her hands on the couch and took his bruising kisses with abandon.

  She ground her mons against his erection. The head of it poked against her stomach, insistent, the proverbial sword ready to slay her.

  “Do you have condoms?” he blurted.

  “I’m on the pill.”

  “Good. I can’t wait any longer. Say it’s all right, sweet. Let me come inside you.”

  He wanted permission? The man was a dream. “Yes, please.”

  He hooked one of her legs with his arm and stretched it over his shoulder. Not awkward for a dancer. Bella trusted he wouldn’t let her fall backward. Supporting herself with her hands to the couch, she cried out as he entered her. Hard and heavy and thick, a perfect fit. Every slide tugged at her; the friction brought her to a frenzy.

  “You were made for me,” he growled, echoing her thoughts. Always he held her with his eyes. And she wasn’t about to look away. He looked into her as he slid into her. He filled her, mind, body and soul. “So right, sweet. It’s never—” he tensed, his jaw clenching, and she knew he neared the verge “—been like this before.”

  Remarkably they climaxed together. The world fell away and the two of them remained, locked together in a bond that defied anything either had known.

  Later they lay on the rumpled bedsheets in the gray shadows of early morning. Severo’s lover traced his chest from nipple to nipple in a lazy dance. She smelled like sex and vodka.

  “So, earlier,” she said in a sex-softened voice, “you said it had never been like this. You mean the sex?”

  “God, yes, Bella. I’ve had great sex over the years, but the first time I put myself inside you it was like I’d found my place. You are the only one. You are my mate.”

  “Your mate? Is that like
calling me your girlfriend?”

  “Yes, I suppose so.” He chuckled and pulled her on top of him. He had a raging erection again. “Fit yourself where you belong, sweet. Mmm, right there.”

  He was too relaxed to move. Didn’t matter. Feeling her wrapped about him, her fingers dancing across his flesh and the tips of her long hair dusting his wrists was enough to make a man come. And he did.

  Her laughter alerted him, and he dodged through the overgrown thicket of field grass, his paws beating the ground to find the source of mirth. The day was new after he’d spent the night wandering the countryside.

  The world was different when he was not standing on two legs. Better this way.

  Rounding the trimmed hedge, he bounded onto the tiled patio area, tracking her summertime scent to one of the lounge chairs.

  “Oh, Sev! Your nose is wet and cold. Stop licking me! You’re always so playful in the mornings. Go inside and shift, and put some clothes on. I have work to do today, and I want you to meet the witch who’ll be invoking the demon.”

  “Aby!”

  Severo sprang up in bed. It wasn’t his home. And Aby was far from his arms.

  Bella woke to find Severo sitting alert. He’d called out something. A name? He didn’t seem aware that she was awake, and for a moment she merely observed him as he sniffed the air. He got off the bed and reached for his clothes.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  He shushed her and pulled up his leather pants.

  “You’re scaring me, Severo.” She sat up and tugged the sheet over her breasts. The patio door was still open and the room had cooled.

  The door was open? But there was a screen.

  Before she could curse her stupidity, the screen flew inside and two dark figures crashed through. The patio door cracked, and glass shattered.

  Chapter 8

  “S tay right there,” Severo called to Bella as he dashed into the fray.

  The first vampire swung out at Severo and missed. Severo, while dodging, tilted his torso and snagged a glass shard from the floor. He swung his arm up, slashing the glass across the vampire’s neck. Blood beaded the air in a long chain and splattered the white chiffon drape hanging nearby.

  “I thought you said the wolf wasn’t here?” the other vampire shouted and ran for Severo’s back.

  The first vampire didn’t answer. He fell to his knees, clutching his spurting throat.

  Bella gripped the sheets and found herself crawling to the end of the bed to kneel there. Huddling in fear was the furthest thing from her mind. This was exciting.

  Her lover stretched out an arm and delivered a fist to the second vampire’s skull. The hit only made the vamp blink. He cracked a bloody grin and charged Severo. The two landed on the floor in a crush of flesh and bone. They rolled across the hardwood, exchanging punches to vulnerable body parts.

  A wolflike growl preceded a masterful kick. The vamp flew backward, shoulders hitting the wall with a crunch—but he wasn’t down.

  Severo stood and shook out his shoulders. He growled, vicious and violent, his fingers curving to angry claws. Every muscle across his back bulged and tensed. The tendons in his forearms pulsed with movement. He was marvelous. A beast of power and strength. Bella couldn’t be afraid for him, because somehow she knew he would defeat the opponents.

  Meanwhile, the bleeding vampire collapsed on the floor, arms out and face down.

  Severo slid across the floor, colliding with the glass shards. He gripped a long piece of glass and lunged for the fallen vamp. The glass pierced the vamp’s back, blood gushing up from the heart.

  And then something remarkable happened. The fallen vamp shuddered, his entire body reacting to the injury. Within seconds, he was reduced to ash, piled upon the bloody pool.

  Scuffling with the remaining vampire, Severo shoved him against the wall. His powerful thighs flexed. He forced the vamp’s shoulders into the wall. The Sheetrock cracked. A cloud of chalky dust flew about their heads.

  His eyes fell upon the cross on the wall. A gift from Bella’s grandmother, who had passed a decade earlier. He grabbed the foot-long cross and slammed it against the vampire’s face. Smoke hissed and the vampire yowled. The cross burned through to his jawbone.

  Severo dropped the vamp at his feet. He flicked away the cross, sending it clattering across the floor.

  “Damn, that was real silver.” He shook his hand and stalked about, surveying the bloody mess.

  With intense focus, he marched up to the bed.

  Now Bella did cringe. His eyes held the same intensity she’d seen when he’d made love to her, yet it had darkened and grown deeper, if that were possible. Was he in a rage? Some werewolf state that made him violent toward anyone?

  He gripped the bedpost and yanked it off. “Mind if I use this?” He wielded the serrated wood stake. “Holy wounds take forever to kill,” he commented as he strode back to the suffering vampire. Plunging the stake into the vamp’s heart brought his struggles to an end. Another ash reduction and the room fell silent.

  And Bella let out a breath she must have been holding since the vampires charged through the patio door.

  Severo wiped his bloody hands on the white chiffon drape. He looked over the destruction and winced. When he glanced to her, Bella rushed to him.

  His bare chest rose and fell roughly. It was spattered with blood, which she didn’t want to touch. She took his hand, which he displayed palm up. A deep burn from the cross reddened his flesh.

  “Will it kill you?” she asked.

  “No. But it’ll hurt like a mother for a while. Get back on the bed, sweet. There’s glass everywhere.”

  Realizing the danger, Bella complied, backing carefully away until she climbed onto the bed.

  Though barefoot, her lover stood still, surveying his destruction. He must have taken cuts to his feet, yet he appeared only angry about the intrusion, and not at all concerned about his wounds.

  “Sorry. I’ll have someone come clean this up.” He dug a cell phone from his pocket and made a quick, mysterious call. When he hung up, he said, “Stay right there. I’m going outside to check the periphery. You okay?”

  Okay? In what sense? A glance to the piles of vampire ash made her wonder if she was safe. Nothing could come back from the ashes, right? “No problem,” she managed.

  As soon as he marched outside, Bella ducked her head and muffled a scream against the pillow. She didn’t want to look at what lay on the floor. It smelled so strongly of blood and ash, she didn’t need to look.

  The sight of the vampire’s slashed throat had been seared into her eyes forever. The blood-spattered chiffon. The ash piles that had once been living men.

  But he’d saved her. Again.

  Now she wanted him back. Holding her. Protecting her. Sheltering her.

  “Severo,” she whispered. “Please hurry.”

  He’d woken from a dead sleep to the scent of those nasty longtooths. Not soon enough to prevent Bella from witnessing the bloody killing. He hated himself for that. But that he’d kept her from harm meant he’d accomplished his goal—to protect Bella.

  Protect his mate. The one woman he connected with on a visceral level. Even Aby he hadn’t connected with like this.

  You woke from a dream, calling her name, he thought.

  Why had he been dreaming of Aby while lying next to Bella? And after they’d made love. That disturbed him. He and Aby had never had a sexual relationship, though they’d been close on other levels.

  But he wouldn’t think of that. He must not. Bella had captured him by the tail, and he liked that just fine.

  I’m afraid that I could fall in love with you. He remembered her words.

  How could he erase her fear of him? He knew it was because he wasn’t human. Did she fear his werewolf?

  He’d been careful not to change when the vampires had attacked. Had he shifted, he could have taken both out with one swipe of a taloned paw. Vampires were no match in physical combat with were
wolves. Yet Severo’s strength was not to be disregarded while in mere were form.

  With one last scan across the horizon from the roof of Bella’s loft, he satisfied himself that no others were in the neighborhood. He scented vampires at a distance—probably five miles to the north—but their presence didn’t agitate him.

  Had the bitch Elvira sent the vamps to kill Bella? That was going too far for jealousy. He owed the mistress of the night a visit.

  But first, he had to get Bella safe. She would probably balk at such an idea, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  Jumping to land before the pool, Severo surveyed the damage as he strode inside the home. The patio door would need to be boarded up, which the cleanup crew would do. As well, they’d sweep up the vamp ash and clean the blood. The flimsy drape was a loss.

  During the height of the war between the vampires and witches, which had ended only a few years earlier, the need for discretion had grown paramount. As a result, most paranormals carried the number to a reliable cleanup team. No smart wolf left evidence for mortals to peruse and wonder over.

  Bella waited on the bed, as if afraid to leave the safe island amid the blood and destruction. She plunged into his arms and he held her tight, the sheet wrapped about her and her limbs shivering against his body.

  “Sorry,” he whispered. “I heard them coming, just not fast enough. You shouldn’t have had to see that.”

  “You were so brave,” she said. “I love you, Severo.”

  That confession knocked him over, so he had to lean against the wall as he held her. She loved him? It was a wondrous confession that he’d never hoped to hear from a woman—let alone a mortal woman—in his lifetime.

  He’d given up on love after Aby.

  “You weren’t frightened?” he asked.

  “Yes, but watching you took away the fear. How is it that you are so much stronger than vampires? Are werewolves on top of the heap?”

  “Not always. When I am in were form, I’m a match in strength to a vampire. As a werewolf…well, look out. But they were idiots. And I did have the cross.”

 

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