Dawn Awakening

"Especially me. The blood bond I have with you makes you more susceptible to my suggestions than to those of any other vampire. If you can stop me, you can stop him." He willed her to sleep... again, Robbie swayed and her legs gave way from beneath her weight. Shaking his head, he caught her and willed her awake. "Try again."

She moaned, each time he used his "mojo" on her the headache worsened in intensity. "I can't," she pled. But, he kept on hitting her with waves of suggestion and she faltered to each and every one. Till finally, she got good and royally pissed. Braced and prepared for the next onslaught, she focused on keeping him out of her head, biting her lip in concentration. This time, she felt a sharp bolt of pain go through her mind like a hot knife through butter, but she stayed alert and on her feet.

John Mark applauded. "She learns, at long last, she finally gets it!" he exclaimed, picking her up and swinging her around. He frowned exaggeratedly. "Darn, now I have no way to shut you up." He focused harder, driving his will to override hers. She wobbled but, never caved, no matter how hard he hit her with the power of suggestion.

"Just exactly how is it that you can get into my head anyway?" Robbie asked. Her brows furrowed tightly. Anxiously, she ran her hands through her hair winding it through her fingers. She'd managed to keep him out. It was hard. But, not as hard when she knew what was coming. What would happen if he did that and she wasn't ready for it? Was this little exercise of his really going to keep her safe when it mattered?

"Easy, your brain sends out electrical impulses. The impulses control chemical responses. My senses are so acute that I can detect the impulses and alter them, consequentially altering the body's response." John Mark smiled smugly. "I am not some magical boogie man, Robbie. Vampires are creatures of the natural world. Governed by the laws of physics, just like everything else on the planet. We just, bend the rules a little here and there."

Slipping his arms around from behind, he pinned her hands to her sides and nibbled along her neck, "I'd like to get real natural with you right now," he whispered suggestively against the soft, pink shell of her ear.

"Keep it up bloodsucker," Robbie teased, giggling at the soft tickle of his lips against her sensitive flesh. "I'm sure I could make a pretty good stake out of a table leg and ram it through your heart."

John Mark laughed and released her. She had the cutest way of bucking her hips and rubbing that sweet little tush of hers against his hip when he tickled her. "That would slow me down some and wreck my favorite shirt. But, it wouldn't be enough to kill me." He smoothed his faded blue t-shirt across his chest, defensively placing his hand over his heart. "Ready for the next lesson?"

She exhaled, fatigued from the exercises. She wanted to stop for a while. Who knew how much of it there was left? "Wait, aren't you going to teach me any physical self- defense techniques? Knives, swords, weaponry, anything like that?"

"No."

Robbie stammered at his refusal to teach her something she might actually use. John Mark's mood visibly darkened and he clammed up. Tight lipped, jaw set hard in determination. She didn't understand. He wanted her to be able to defend herself. That much was apparent. But, why stop at the few scraps he'd thrown her way. Why not teach her everything she needed to know. There was so much left to learn. "Why not?"

God, this woman was stubborn. She could not leave it alone. Of course, he knew that before he started teaching her. She didn't get it. How fragile she was. How powerless and out of control she truly was. She thought in human terms and saw the world with human limitations. What other point of reference did she have? "It won't work. Robbie, you can't win. All you'd manage to do would be to piss him off and get yourself killed that much quicker. It is not worth the risk. Leave it alone...please."

John Mark reached out and drew her into his arms. He settled his palms along the curve of her waist. His fingers splayed across the small of her back, inching the fabric of her tank top up, desperate for the reaffirming warmth of her skin. "I've already lost my heart to you. Do you think I want to lose my head too?" He kissed her, the ultimate in diversionary tactics to still those inquisitive lips. Stroking her mouth with the tip of his tongue. He worked his way between her lips.

If John Mark was trying to shut her up, he had one hell of a way of doing it. His kiss had her lips busy doing other things besides asking the questions burning in her mind. He slid his hands up her shirt, kneading her back with carefully measured strokes. HOLY CROW! Her body responded arching to the light pressure against her spine. Her hands had explorative tendencies too, inching to the curious bulge pressed against her pelvis. Instead of giving in to the urge, she buried her hands deep into the back pockets of his jeans to keep them still and in a much more appropriate place.

John Mark smiled against Robbie's lips. If he wasn't mistaken, his little redheaded vixen was playing with his butt. Her fingers flexed, digging into the muscles of his behind with the sharp little points of her nails, then released. He liked. Much like the ball player he'd been in his early years, he made a bold move toward third base. Timing it just right, when her hips rocked against his shaft and her body was ripe with tension, his hands tugged on the thin straps of her bra, catching the spaghetti straps of her top and slid them down over her shoulders. With a slight brush of his thumb across a taught nipple, he eased the straps lower inch by agonizing inch. Maybe, just maybe, with all the players in the infield, he could slide a home run.

With gentle kisses he trailed down her neck, resting his lips at the spot where he had taken from her the previous night. Robbie tensed slightly and then tilted her head to grant him better access to her creamy flesh. Shit! Whew! The pearly nipple under his thumb jerked in response to his soft caress. Braver than a drunk on karaoke night, he slid his fingers to cup the underside of her breast, kneading the tender globe in his palm carefully, ever so gently. A breathy sigh, uttered into his mouth from the lush paradise of her lips was all the reward and the encouragement he needed. He was hardly a Mickey Mantle type. Not quite bold enough to make a run for home. He sat pretty on third, stroking and exploring every exposed inch of the woman in his arms.

Her pulse raced excitedly as his mouth caressed the spot...that spot...along the curve of her neck. She thought for a minute he was going to bite her. As if that thought wasn't erotic enough in its own right, the sensation of his fingers trailing the straps of her bra and tank top down her arm were almost enough to completely undo her. His fingers were very, very creative, coaxing her skin to the peak of sensitivity. Gently, stroking places that had her grappling with the thin thread of her control.

The limits between them were growing thinner and thinner, blurry and less defined. It was just a matter of time before they crossed them. Didn't she want that? Dizzied and panting from his kiss and tantalizing caresses, hell yeah, she did. Clumsily, she jerked his t-shirt lose from his jeans and worked it up his back. John Mark was more than willing to please, releasing his hold on her breast and his mouth from her neck long enough to rip the shirt over his head. Tossing it to land in a crumpled heap on the floor, he restarted his assault on her flesh, exactly where he left off.

Robbie traced a path from his collarbones down to his chest with her tongue, playfully nipping as she trailed down. A feral growl filled with desire rumbled through his chest, which made her legs as wobbly as jell-o. If not for his arm secured firmly around her hips, crushing her against the hard bulge at his groin, she would have melted into a heap onto the floor. Slowly, liking the feel of his skin beneath her lips, she kissed her way back up, pausing at his jaw. Through his parted lips, she could see the sharp, white tips of his fangs. He hadn't tried to bite her, yet. So she didn't think he was hungry for that. Apparently, other appendages popped up when he was...excited. The thought gave her an idea. Too shy to put her fingers where she wanted to. Timidly, she ran the tip of her index finger over the points.

John Mark gasped as Robbie ran her finger along the exposed length of his fangs. Good Mother of Mercy! She might as well have been stroking his cock with that delicate fingertip. Did the girl have no pity for a boy? Her shirt and bra, wrinkled and bunched around her ribs, were in his way. The clothes had to come off. NOW! Weak kneed and panting, horny in a way that not even his "private" time in the shower could come close to quelling, he opened his mouth and allowed her time to probe.

He dropped to his knees, sliding his hands up Robbie's narrow ribcage. Gathering the bunched fabric, he guided her shirt in his fist. She lifted her arms, helping him divest her. Her tank top fell to the floor beside his t-shirt. The bra was a different story. Underwire and seemingly welded in place against her skin. Damnable bothersome article meant to tantalize and torture him to the very limit of his patience. Awkwardly, having no idea how to release the clasp, he fumbled like an idiot along the stretchy elastic. Tearing it free, he supposed, would be bad form. The damned industrial grade elastic might snap and give her a concussion. Either that or that pointy underwire might poke his eye out when it broke free. Might be a deal breaker, for sure. He'd have to use his amazing powers of persuasion to convince her to put him out of his misery and take it off herself.

He slid his mouth along the gentle curves of her stomach. Urgently, he grasped her hips, pulling her down to the floor beside him. Her lips were too far away. Too far out of his reach with her standing. Sprawled out, heavily lidded and flushed with passion, Robbie stared up at him, arching her back beneath the brush of his palm along the soft satin and lace cups of that infuriating bra.

Robbie stared up at John Mark. If the floor beneath her was uncomfortable, she didn't notice it. He toyed with the lacy edge of her bra with lazy, slow, seductive strokes of his fingertips. The fact that he fumbled with the clasps and failed miserably to remove the article of clothing endeared her to him. She thought maybe, with the way he knew how to stir her into a quivering, frenzied mess of hormones and desire, he'd had experience with other women. She expected that he'd have her naked and writhing beneath him before she knew what hit her with his expert kiss. The bra, or his miserable failure with it, clued her in that in so many ways, he was still her same old familiar John Mark, all thumbs, awkward and unsure, thrown off by something as simple as unclasping a bra, and every bit as inexperienced with the opposite sex as her.

Confounded and simply over the whole bra issue, he ripped through the fragile fabric, willing to put an eye out for the cause, if need be. With the zeal of a kid on Christmas morning, he peeled the lace and satin back to reveal her breasts. Given the arching of her back and the gentle moan from her lips as he explored first one lush peak and then the other with his fingers and tongue, she'd forgive him for destroying the bra.

Robbie cried out against the onslaught of John Mark's tongue on her breasts. Dizzied by the knowledge that in his inexperience, she made him the expert, her body, his inspiration. Oh, yeah, he made her feel like a work of art, wickedly lapping his tongue in tantalizing circles around her nipples.

She wanted to give him everything he needed, everything he craved, be everything for him. Give him shelter in the solace of her body and sustenance from her veins. "Please, John Mark," she cried breathlessly, "drink from me."

Was there possibly anything sexier than this woman, flushed with passion, voice thick with want, asking him to drink from her in such wild abandon? The way she responded to him, to the slightest brush of his fingertips and lightest caress of his lips against her flesh was enough to make him implode right there on the spot. At least, he'd die a happy man. He was not going to make love to her or drink from the manna flowing in her veins in the middle of her living room floor. She deserved better than that. And he intended to give it to her.

John Mark lifted Robbie, carrying her to the bedroom to lay her gently on top of the covers. Shyly, she covered her breasts with her hands to hide them from him. "Robbie, let me see you. Please." Hesitantly, although moments ago, she'd been thrusting them in his face, she paused. Gently, and slowly, he coaxed one trembling hand away and then the other, looking up at him with emerald eyes glowing with want and tinted with uncertainty. "So beautiful," he muttered in pure appreciation.

Robbie cried out in joy as John Mark sprinkled kisses over her breasts, tonguing the nipples to fevered points. She ran her fingers through the black silkiness of his hair, the ends gently tickling over her skin as he continued his downward path to her belly. The light brush of his fingertips along the tender skin inside of her thighs fanned flames already burning and consuming every part of her being.

Strange words in a language as new to her as it was to him, escaped her parted lips. Robbie moaned at the teasing of the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. Her hips bucked beneath the languid strokes of his fingers. Her insides liquid and hot, teetering to the boiling point, wanting more, anything to ease the ache so deep inside of her and quell the slow burn of her desire.

Slowly, with gentle strokes John Mark slid his fingers under the ragged hem of her cutoffs. Robbie whimpered with need as he trailed closer to the spot of her desire. She was hurting and achy, bucking her hips against his fingers. He could do something about that. He could cool her down with the touch of his fingers. And then, have fun, heating her back up to a boil.

Carefully, he separated the silky fabric from her mass of curls relishing the feel of her soft tender skin. She was so wet and ready for him. Masculine pride that he'd done this to her, and at what he was going to do for her, made him brave in ways he only dared to dream of. Gently, he slid in to her slick, hot sheath, stopping when he met resistance and quickly retreating to tease along the apex of her sex. She was a virgin. All his. His mind reeled at the gift, the sacrifice she was willing to make...for him.

His heartbeat raged within his ears. Her pure state drove his want, fanning the flames of his need to a raging inferno. John Mark slid up the length of her body, pressing his erection against that soft, tender place. She arched her hips into him, instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Her breath came out in short pants as he paused to pay homage to her breasts again, teasing the pink peaks to unbearable heights of alertness with his mouth. Her nails raked down his back, the sharp pain inflicted by her nails, driving him insane.

John Mark felt the fluttering of her heart and the bounding of her pulse quicken to a fevered pace in response to his exploration of every curve of her body. Her gentle sighs fueled him on. So much blood, coursing with the force of a raging river through her veins. The scent of her desire wrapped around him, drifting down to settle on his skin. Hunger for her body, every inch of it and every part of it, slammed into his body with the grace of a jet on a collision course to earth. Sliding his hands around to her back, he flipped over, lifting her hips to crush them down against his pelvis. He didn't want to stop. He wasn't sure if he could. His sensibility told him that he had to, that a good guy, one who loved her as much as he believed he did, would. But, his body begged him not to.

Robbie's hair flowed down around his face in a dazzling curtain of color in the early afternoon sun. Eyes closed, lashes fluttering like butterflies across the tops of her cheeks, she rested her bare breasts against his chest and kissed him with an urgency and need that had every conviction, every uttered prayer, and promise forgotten. The fury of her rocking hips, ground against his arousal, pushed him to the point of madness. Hungry. Horny. Hungry AND horny. His two most primal instincts warred inside of his head for dominance. One, she would forgive. One, she might regret later. Both, she had consented to. One he had tasted, and quivered like a wino for another sip. And one, he'd been waiting forever to transform from dream into reality. He could wait, after all, what did he have except for time. Decision made, he drove his fangs into her shoulder, drinking in deep pulls of her very essence.

Robbie cried out, not in pain, but in passion. No mistake, the bite hurt. Badly. Hardly prepared, and under a different kind of spell, she gasped beneath the heady pull of his lips against her skin. Was she some kind of masochist that she liked to mix pain and pleasure in equal portions? Or, was she just so into the moment, so into John Mark and everything he was that one invasion into her body was simply as pleasurable as the other?

Her hips rocked against the hard bulge beneath them. He was thick and so very hard, the zipper of his fly, pressing into the seam of her shorts, creating the most wonderful friction along her secret places. Gasping and writhing, she quickened the pace. Damp with need and the erotic undulations of his hardness beneath her, hips rising and falling to match her speed, she shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. Dazed and sated by an orgasm that left her reeling in its wake, she collapsed onto his chest, not aware of anything else but the pleasure of his mouth working her blood free from her veins.

John Mark drank deeply of her, quelling one of his needs. Robbie writhed against him, digging her pelvis hard into his erection, riding him with bucking hips and heavy gasps. The friction of her body stoking along his length had him rising up to meet every labored thrust of her core. He was so close, so very close. When she stiffened and cried out, the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard, lost to the intensity of her unexpected orgasm, he was right there with her, launching like a rocket into space. Gently, he licked the wound closed and cradled her in his arms, until they both drifted back to earth. With tremendous effort, he slid her free of his chest to rest along side the line of his body. Damn, almost sex was good, almost as good as the real thing.

Robbie exhaled a deep breath of sheer contentment. She felt so light, almost giddy, boneless and so damned relaxed as if the troubles of the past few weeks had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders. Tipping her head back to survey this beautiful man who did the most amazing things to her, she ran her finger along his lips. Playfully, he nipped at her finger with his front teeth. "Aren't you afraid of the big bad vampire?" he asked, his voice low and seductive, thick with the afterglow of his release.

"Nope, I've got him wrapped around my little finger," she said, wiggling her little finger in his face.

John Mark propped himself up on his elbow, rolling Robbie rolled onto her back. "That you do." Self consciously, she wrapped a blanket around herself. He winked at her and pulled the blanket free. "Like cloud cover on a sunny day." He pouted with an overly pouched bottom lip. "I really like the view," he said, dipping his head to press a soft kiss to one peak and then the other.