Dawn Reclaimed

Claire rested one knee on the bed, "Remind me of why I took pity on you instead of pitching your ass out in the dark." She took a deep breath to steady herself before climbing between the sheets. This was going to be the most difficult night of her life. Even more difficult than the night they first met. Then she'd had every right to hate him. And while she still might have the right, she simply couldn't do it.

Grant pulled Claire's arm and guided her cheek to rest against his chest. This is where she belonged. Right here in his arms and no place else. He pressed his lips against her forehead. "Because you love me." He reached over and flicked off the lamp on the bedside table. The curtains fluttered in the gentle, night breeze. Daylight would be here far too soon. And in the garish light of day things were far too real than they were in the soft, indigo blue, velvet black, and varying shades of gray that made up the night.

Claire tipped her head up to study Grant's features. She could only make out the basest outline of his face in the stark darkness. "I wish I didn't." She smoothed her palm down his stubble-lined cheek and wrapped her fingers around the nape of his neck, drawing him closer.

"I know. Sometimes, I wish for the very same thing," he whispered against her parted lips.



Chapter 45

Grant took his time, savoring the feel of her in his arms. Letting her guide him to wherever it was she wanted this to go. He traced the outline of her lips with the tip of his tongue. Her lips were spiced with the rich zing of her cinnamon toothpaste and the lushness of the desire cresting within her. Her fingernails grazed the back of his neck as her fingers tangled in his hair. Tucked in neatly beside him, her body arched, colliding with his. All jokes about the size of his penis aside, Grant was on fire. Burning with the aching need to be buried to the hilt deep within her. There was no holding back. He'd waited too long for politeness. Possessively, he took control of her mouth. Coaxing her to the place he already was. He wanted her. Needed her worse than he needed air to breathe. Tilting her head, his hands skimming down her curves, he crushed her to him.

Claire's lips were silky and so soft, pliant against his mouth. He was amazed that he, the man so in control of his wolf, could lose himself to her utterly by doing nothing more than sharing a kiss. This was a night begging for gentleness and understanding. One of compromise and of promises whispered in the shelter of the darkness. Her tiny fingers grappled with his shoulders, pulling him closer, flexing to push him away. Grant didn't think it was possible for him to get any harder, to ache with more intensity than he already felt for her. But, as his hand skated over her waist and around to grip the hem of her shirt, feeling the soft swell of her belly, growing with his child, he wanted her even more. He pressed his palm to her stomach and stroked the skin with the gentlest, most reverent of caresses.

"Want you. Need you. Love. You." He sounded like a caveman. Somewhere after that first kiss, he'd lost his ability to speak in complete sentences and his words were a butchered mishmash of thoughts. She smiled against his lips and purred like a kitten beneath him. Encouraged by her response to what he hadn't managed to put into words, he worked Claire's mouth with his tongue and his lips crushed to hers. Grant was going to combust if he didn't get inside this woman soon. He pawed at her like an animal lost to the rut. His hands were too desperate. His fingers clumsy, pulling at her clothes and tearing them in the process of getting to the sweetness beneath them.

Claire parted her lips, smiling behind the deep, passionate kiss. Grant gave her no pardon in his possession of her mouth. That was ok. She didn't wish to escape. She suckled the tip of Grant's tongue as he slid it in between her lips. His taste was wild and untamed. She opened to the pressure of his mouth on hers as he deepened the kiss even further. Searching out every part of her in slow, dizzying, swirls and dips of his tongue. His voice was a thick growl of masculine desire. His hands were demanding, pulling at the hem of her top and grappling with the drawstring waistband of her shorts. And damn, if she didn't lift her hips, tip her shoulder, and arch her back to help him get to exactly where she wanted and needed him to be.

Claire didn't think about the wolf that was so much a part of him. She ran her hand down the hard planes of his chest. Grant's chest. His skin was warm and smooth against her palm. His breath hitched as she trailed her fingers down lower across his abdomen. Exploring every ridge and dip beneath the pads of her fingertips. She rose up on one elbow. Tracing the outline of the lips that drove her to a place where fantasy and reality were intertwined.

Grant wound his fingers through her hair and pulled her closer. Guiding her lips to meet his. The kiss was wild and wanton. Fueled by weeks of denied and repressed passion. He drove his tongue deep and furiously into her mouth. There was nowhere for her to hide. Her lips could say whatever they wanted to and he didn't care. He didn't miss as many as one of her sighs of need. Her body pressed against his. Her leg snaked between his thighs. Her heartbeat pounded in his ears. And her breath mingled with his. She wanted him with the same hot desire that he wanted her. The lips could lie, but the body could not.

"Claire." Grant gripped her wrist. She was trailing too close to the south of his equator. And he could barely contain himself now. If she crossed into his southerly territory, he would not be able to hold back. Wouldn't even try to be a gentleman. And one of the two of them had to keep things from going from PG-13 to rated XXX. Before they did something neither one of them would regret. "Stop."

"You don't mean that," Claire breathed. Her desire for him scorched her body. She shifted her weight and sat, straddling him. Feeling the hard press of his engorged erection against her tender, aching core. Her camisole shirt hung haphazardly off her shoulders. And somewhere in the midst of the storm surge of passion, she'd lost the drawstring out of her shorts. And she did not care.

"No, I don't," Grant hissed. She pressed her weight down on him in all the right places. Instinctively, he bucked his hips into her softness. "But, you did. Less than twenty minutes ago you threatened to neuter me if I so much as touched you."

"Worth the risk. Isn't it?" Claire bent forward. Her wrists still held tightly in his grip. She dipped her tongue into the hollow of his throat. His skin was a combination of spice and raw heat, salty against her taste buds. She trailed her mouth down in a series of tiny pecks and nips and nestled her lips against his dark, brown nipple, flicking it with her tongue.

Grant felt her hot breath streak across his chest. "Claire, that's it. You're trying to kill me aren't you?" His grip on her wrists loosened. She could put her hands anywhere she wanted. North. South. Any direction was good. As for his hands, they were busy gathering up the hem of her shirt and guiding it up over her head. "Claire, you're sure this is what you want? You want me?"

Claire lifted her arms to help Grant relieve her of her shirt. "Grant, I want you. I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life." She straddled his thighs and went to work on the button fly of his jeans. "Maybe, I should be asking you, if you want me? I'm just an ordinary person, Grant. Just plain old me. Human. Mundane. Nothing."

"No, Claire. You are everything. You. Are. My. World." Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he drew her to him. He lifted his mouth to her breasts, kissing first one ripe nipple and then the other, careful to pay the proper amount of respect to each so that his attention was appropriately divided between the two. Her skin was sweet and soft beneath his lips. Her nipples were swollen to ripe fullness, the flesh pebbling beneath the strokes of his tongue. His arms wandered around her waist, his fingers digging into her hips. The sheets twisted as he eased her onto her back. Pinned beneath him, his body rested in the warm cradle of her thighs.

Claire stared up at Grant and lost herself, drowning in the heat of his eyes. He was not her first. But, he was the only man who had ever looked at her with such reverence and urgent need. She cupped his cheek in her hand and trailed her fingers over his jaw. Saying nothing she said plenty without words. Her touch conveyed with more accuracy, any words she could have imagined worth saying. Playfully, he nipped at the pad of her thumb with his front teeth.

Grant rested his cheek in her palm for a moment. And then got down to business. Loving this woman as fully and completely as she deserved was his top priority. He planted a deep and searching kiss on her mouth. His tongue retracing the steps it had traveled earlier. Embarking on a trail that he would never grow weary of following. He rolled a nipple between his fingers until it was taut and full beneath them. Her back arched and a moan of pleasure escaped her lips as his mouth landed where his fingers had been. Her hips rocked against him, teasing him through the half-buttoned fly of his jeans. He trailed kisses down along the tender curve of her belly and rested his cheek on the rise of her stomach. "So beautiful," he whispered against her warm flesh.

Claire wanted to cry at the depth of love she heard in Grant's voice. She was his world and he, her entire universe. He trailed kisses over her stomach and followed the moist path of his lips with his fingertips, stroking her skin in soft, circular motions. The sensation should have been affectionate, and might have been, if it didn't make her burn hotter with desire for more. Growling, joking and playfully, Grant pulled at the waistband of her shorts with his teeth. His thumbs created the most wonderful, dizzying sensation against the insides of her thighs. He was definitely determined. She had to give him that. Clothing wasn't going to get in his way. Claire sighed and her toes curled in desire as he traced a path up beneath her shorts, to the heart of where she wanted him to be.

Grant pushed up off the mattress and crouched on his knees. Naked. He needed her naked now. Claire's shorts and lacy underwear were an obstruction he didn't want in his way. He needed to touch every inch of her. He wanted her gloriously and unabashedly naked in front of him. Humans were more body shy than wolves. It was the nature of their culture to hide their vulnerabilities. And sometimes, Claire was very shy and uncomfortable about what she looked like. She had nothing to hide or be ashamed of. To him, she was perfect. Freeing her of the shorts and underwear in one smooth movement. She lay beneath him. Stretched out on a bed of peach sheets naked, staring up at him with her teal colored eyes glowing with the light of her inner fire.

He ran his palm, trailing his fingertips along the gentle rise of her stomach. To him, it was unfathomable, a miracle that his child grew inside of her. They'd made this, a life, the two of them, together. Slowly, he lowered his mouth and kissed every inch of their unborn baby. "Look Claire, look what we made," he whispered.

Claire lifted her head and stared down at Grant. He crouched between her thighs. His broad shoulders level with her hips and his lips pressed to her stomach. He stroked the curve of her pelvis, where the baby bump was beginning to show. She'd never had a flat stomach or a perfect figure. But, he made her feel every inch as desirable, maybe more so, than a runway fashion model. He loved their baby. But, there was more to his love than the baby. He loved her, imperfect, plain, very human, and ordinary, her.

Tears of happiness collected in the corners of her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks. She ran her fingers through his hair and held on tight for what was most likely going to be the wildest ride of her life. His love would be no easy thing to live with. But, one thing was for certain. No man would ever love her more than he did. Her eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the streetlamps outside her bedroom window. She saw the look of utter adoration and love on his face when he glanced up at her and then bent to kiss her belly. Gently and softly as a whisper, his lips brushed across her belly. Could a child ever ask for a more loving father than Grant? Could she ever ask for more of any man than to love her as completely as he did? "I love you."

Grant's heart exploded with pride and love at her admission. The sound of her voice echoed in his ears. The utterance of three small words that meant the whole of his very existence. He lifted his head and claimed her lips in a desperate and eager kiss. He sucked her breath into his lungs and held it in. Wanting every bit of this woman that he could get. Their mouths pressed hard and relentlessly against each other. The kiss not one of passion, but one of love, filled with hope for a future filled with happiness.

Claire honestly didn't know how much more torture she could endure. Grant took his time bringing her to the point of no return and then gently guiding her down from the peck only to take her there again without letting her freefall over the edge. A plea hovered on her lips. But, she held it back. She did not want this night, this moment of goodness and rightness to end. He traveled lower with his lips, replacing the graceful motions of his fingertips with the heat of his tongue. A sound Claire would have sworn could never escape her throat, rent the silence of their panting breaths and the whisper of flesh against flesh and skin against cotton.

Grant smiled against Claire's soft, inner core at the sound of such an urgent cry rising in her throat. "Grant," She panted and gripped at his hair, pulling him down to her. Demanding he finish what he'd started. And he had every intention of doing just that. Eventually. For now, he was content to smell the heady scent of her desire, bathe in the sweetness of the juices coating his tongue, and dance with the urgency of her moans marking time to the steps.

Grant ignored Claire's pleas and took his time. He was adding to his growing repertoire of all the ways he could make Claire shiver and cry out in the agony of passion. And having a great time too, doing just that. Slowly, his tongue snaked around the hard nub of her clitoris and flicked over the pulsating point. And he was rewarded by another impatient tug of his hair and demanding thrust of her hips. He grazed the sensitive flesh with his teeth and lapped at the ripe bud until her hips rocked and bucked wildly. She was so close that he could feel the heat of her orgasm threatening to sweep her away. The musky scent of her desire rolled off her in waves. Her taste was sweet against his tongue. He could do this all day and never have his fill of her.

He slid in a finger. Her slick walls gripped onto him tightly. Claire had surpassed cries of passion and whimpered in desperation, tossing her head on the pillow, her hands clutching at the sheets gripped in her fists. Every muscle in her body clenched tightly. Her heels dug into his shoulders, spurring him on. Her skin glistened in the dim glow of streetlights shining in through her lace curtains. Grant pressed on, torturing, teasing, and tasting until the room was filled with the echoing gasp of Claire's intelligible moans.

Claire could have sworn she saw stars. Grant knew exactly how to push her over the brink and coax her back, then send her sailing out into a vast and bottomless void of pure ecstasy. Clinging to him, she rode wave after wave. Digging her nails into his back until he complied and with one final, playful and very well placed flick of his tongue, retreated to climb up her body. The heat of his erection pressed against her core. Claire was too far gone to endure much more of his seductive torture and certainly too desperate to plan out an attack of her own against him. She needed him. Now. Her hand trailed across his muscular butt and along his hip, gripping him. Wrapping her fingers along the base of his shaft, she guided him in.

Grant scrambled for control. Not of his wolf, but of a different beast lurking beneath the surface. He tried to take his time. Make this good for Claire. But, with the heat and tightness of her walls wrapped around him, he was a gone man. He bucked and rocked, dove in and withdrew, slamming his hips into her at a hard, relentless pace. Pleasure hurt. Pleasure felt so goddamned good. The sharp scrape of her nails down his back was all the encouragement he needed that she was on board with the plan. One last burst, one more push and all that restrained pleasure surged through him as he spilled into her. And with the corners of her pillow clutched in his fists. Sweat dripping off the ends of his hair. And his molars ground tightly together to hold back a cry. Her name torn from his throat and her nails digging into his shoulders, he shuddered and pumped every last bit of his release into her depths.

It was hard to keep a good man down. And even harder to keep a wolf down, if he happened to be a man as well. Grant's cock softened for about a millisecond before it was hard and stiff and aching for more of Claire. This time, he was more controlled. His thrusts measured in time to her rapid breathing and the signals her body communicated to him. The first time was all about the release they both so desperately needed. This time though, was all about gentles, slow, deep seduction and the conquering not of bodies, but of hearts.

He kept his body locked with hers as he rolled onto his back. Last time, he took and demanded. This time, he gave, and let her take from him what she wanted and what she was willing to surrender freely. He held on. His fingers dug into her hips as she rode him. Encouraging her with the clutch of his hands helping her keep pace until they shattered together and reached a place that he thought must only exist on this side of heaven. Claire collapsed into a heap on his chest. Her skin was damp with the sweet, musky sweat of their exertions. He hardened inside of her and kissed the top of her head as she giggled shyly and playfully called him a beast. And yes, he was a beast. And he was crazy in love with the only woman brave enough to tame him.

Dawn spilled through the curtains. Black faded to pale shades of gray by the time Grant pulled the blankets around her shoulders and tucked her neatly into the crook of his arm. He had the dopiest smile on his face, cocky and crooked, dreamy and very contented. And she could only imagine the expression he saw on hers. She was sated in a way she'd never been sated before. Her body well and thoroughly used. She'd never been so loved. And not just in a physical way. Grant completed her. He was at peace, watching her from under the veil of his thick lashes. She smiled up at him and nestled in close as possible.

Their chests rose and fell in time with one another's breaths. She wound her feet and legs around his. Pulling at the covering of coarse hair on his calves with her toes, which earned her a grunt of mild annoyance from him. He wrapped his arm tightly around her shoulders, mumbling something playful and joking about her cold feet. Soon he was fast asleep. Snoring lightly, almost comically, his exhales stirring the ends of her hair to tickle her nose. She did likewise, closing her eyes. Quickly drifting off into an exhausted, but happy slumber. Secure that when she opened her eyes, he'd be there, beside her.



Chapter 46

The man took his time, cutting the woman's jacket into a patchwork of tiny pieces, infusing them with droplets of her blood, and stuffing the saturated scraps of cloth into ziplock bags. He was extra careful with his bathing ritual this morning. He wanted the vampires to find her, not him. Not yet, anyway. He dunked under the vinegar water rinse and held his breath. The pungent scent burned his nose and his whole apartment smelled like one giant Easter egg. Chuckling as he came up from underneath the water, he guessed that he was kind of like the Easter bunny. A very dark, demented, dangerous Easter Bunny.