Chapter Twenty-Three

Jon’s lips left hers to kiss a trail across her cheek and down her neck to her jugular, pausing only long enough to pull her T-shirt off over her head. I should give you a spanking though, he told her, his grin evident in the voice in her mind.

"Why?" she asked out loud.

For throwing the vase at me, he answered, reigning kisses on her heated flesh as he continued on a path down her neck and across her collarbone.

"But Jon," she said pulling away to look into his blue eyes, "I didn’t do that on purpose. I just looked at the vase and thought about hitting you with it, and it went flying across the room. It surprised the hell outta me."

Telekinesis is one of your new powers, Mac, he explained to her, as relentlessly he returned to his task. I’ll have to teach you how to control it better. His path of kisses finally reached her left breast. But then there’s a lot of things I’ll need to teach you.

Mac gasped as he placed little kisses along the lacy line of her bra to the front clasp, releasing it with his teeth. With a mind of their own, her hands moved to either side of his head, clutching him tighter to her, as her fingers threaded into the silky golden strands of his hair. Their position in the bed wasn’t exactly ideal for making love, but she wouldn’t move now if the room was on fire. Mac was half reclining against the head board, and Jon had been sitting at her feet with her raised knees between them. But, when he started his tender assault, he had leaned forward between her raised knees, his sculpted chest resting on the gentle curve of her stomach and the six pack hardness of his abdomen laying in the cradle of her thighs.

Her breath caught in her throat when he took one hardened nipple in his mouth to suckle deeply. Mac, you know you have to feed soon, right? he asked, as he plumped her other breast with one hand and soon his lips traveled there to give it the same treatment.

It was only then, that she realized her fangs had lengthened during their love play, but the realization was only a fleeting thought. She was having trouble concentrating on anything but the heat of his mouth as he sucked deeply on her breast, the velvety roughness of his tongue as it circled her nipple, and the slight scrape of his barely there whiskers whenever his cheek or chin brushed against her ultra sensitive skin.

Jon understood why she didn’t answer him. He was as aware of her feelings and desires as he was his own. Smirking against her skin, he blazed a trail of kisses from one breast back to the other, while one hand caressed its way down the silken plain of her stomach, pausing to stroke her side lightly with just the tips of his fingers before finally stopping at the waist of the jogging pants she wore.

Instinctively, Mac thrust her hips against him; her hands clutched at his shoulders. She raised her upper body from the pillows, her back curving as she craned her neck to reach the top of his head. She buried her nose in the golden halo of his hair; the heady scent of him was intoxicating. She kissed the top of his head.

Jon’s grunt of frustration brought her back to reality. Mac realized he was struggling with the drawstring of her pants. Somehow, he had gotten the strings all tangled and they were a ball of knots. She chuckled softly at him.

The throaty sound she made drew his eyes to hers. "This is not funny, Mac," he told her in a voice laced with his frustration.

She grinned at her own need mirrored in his eyes. "Yeah, it is," she answered him, "well, slightly."

"Really?" he asked sarcastically. "How funny is this?" He grasped the waist band of the pants with one hand and a fist full of the fabric bunched at her abdomen and jerked it apart forcefully. The sound of the fabric rending and her gasp filled the room.

She didn’t answer him. She couldn’t. His lips tracing the waist band of her panties took away all coherent thought. Her hands on his shoulders began tugging at his shirt until she had the back bunched up at his shoulders, clutched in her fists.

He paused at his task long enough to finish the job for her, pulling it off over his head, before going back to his relentless, sweet torture. As he pulled her panties from her, she played connect the dots, her fingernails tracing a line from one freckle to the other across his shoulders. Jon didn’t even flinch when those same nails dug into the skin of his shoulders when his tongue made contact with the satin on the inside of her thigh, drawing little, wet, hot circles there as he moved closer to her center.

She gasped his name out loud, before making the contact he wanted so badly. You have on entirely too many clothes, she told him, the voice in his head deep and husky with passion.

So? he replied, I’m busy. His tongue found the button at her center and her hips thrust against him in reaction. His hands slid under her to grasp the globes of her bottom, holding her in place as he feasted. His tongue circled first one way then the other, getting faster with each change of direction.

When he thrust his tongue inside her, she drew in a sharp breath and screamed in his head, Oh my God, Jon! Her heels dug into the sheets and the muscles of her ass tightened in his palms as she came.

He continued to place gentle kisses on her heated skin as she floated down. Slowly, she became aware of her surroundings again, but the need to have him inside her was still strong.

Her need washed over him. He stood on his knees and jerked the fly of his jeans open, the buttons making a slight popping sound as each one came loose of it’s hole. You’re not the only one that needs that, moglie mia, he told her roughly. I need to be inside you as bad as I need the next breath I take.

His jeans pooled at his knees that rested just millimeters from her bottom, before he sat back on his heels. Grasping her hips, he pulled her toward him until her ass lay on his muscular thighs and her upper body lay prone on the bed. He paused until her eyes met the piercing blue of his. His hands pulled her toward him and he entered her in one fluid motion. His gaze held hers as he began to move inside of her; she couldn’t look away now if she wanted to. Inch by excruciating inch, he slid back inside as she pushed her pelvis toward him in welcome. Try as she might, there didn’t seem to be anything she could do to make him quicken his pace. The muscle in his jaw twitched as he ground his teeth together. Forcing himself to stay in control of this sweet torture and draw it out as long as he could was taking it’s toll on him.

Mac, pay attention, he told her as he moved insider her, picking up the pace as he spoke to her, you have to feed soon. I’m not going to bite you. He felt her disappointment at his words and tried to explain, I can’t, bambina, you need blood too badly. You need to feed; when you’re ready bite me.

I’m not sure I can, Jon, she answered in his head, but moaned out loud when he gripped her hips tighter. I don’t know if I can bring myself to do it; blood has got to taste awful.

The need and desire for blood should be as instinctive as your need and desire for me right now, he told her, as his hands left her hips and slid up her body to caress her breasts.

"Jon," she gasped, as his fingertips plucked at the hardened peaks of her nipples as skillfully as they plucked his guitar’s strings.

He knew he had to convince her to bite him, to feed, but he had known that coaxing her into her first feeding would be a difficult task. Jon leaned forward slightly and slid his hands under the graceful curves of her shoulders, then pulled her into a sitting position on his lap. Ride me, tesora mia, and when the urge to bite me is strong...do it.

Tentatively, she began to move, still unsure if she would be able to bite him. Mac was rewarded by a husky groan from him as he thrust up to meet her. She could feel his pleasure mixing with her own as she enjoyed the control and power this position gave her.

He knew what she was feeling and thinking. That’s right, moglie mia, you’re in control. Take me, take what belongs to you. Take what you need. I give it freely. He could feel her tensing in his arms as she quickened her pace. Her inner muscles starting to tighten around him, drawing him in deeper was almost his undoing, but he kept his tenuous grip on his control.

I’m coming, Jon, even her voice in his head was breathless, throaty and full of passion.

The uncontrollable desire to bite him washed over her as the first wave of her orgasm crested, and without thinking about it, her fangs sank into his jugular and she drank deeply and moved on him, riding the waves of her orgasm. The sweet tangy taste of his blood flowed over her tongue as she sucked at his neck and he exploded inside her.

"Oh my God, Mac," he cried out, meeting each of her downward thrusts with a powerful one of his own as she milked him dry.