Born in Blood

So why was she awake at such an ungodly hour?



It took several minutes to realize what had pulled her out of her dreams. Probably because the feel of warm, male lips stroking over the sensitive skin of her neck was precisely what she’d been dreaming about.



Clearly sensing she was awake, Duncan buried his face in the curve of her neck. “Mmm.”



She shivered, but it wasn’t with nerves. After an entire night of erotic dreams, she was no longer tense at the thought of spending a few hours in the arms of this man.



Actually, she felt all melty as he spooned close enough for her to feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against her lower back.



“You woke me,” she murmured, her voice husky.



“Did I?” His tongue traced up the back of her neck, pausing at the tiny dip just below her ear. “You smell like apples.”



She trembled at the rasp of his morning beard, instinctively pressing her head deeper into the pillow as she invited him to continue his sensual exploration.



“What time is it?”



“Early,” he breathed in her ear, giving her lobe a sharp nip.



She jerked in pleasure, her heart picking up speed. “Then why aren’t you sleeping?”



He trailed his lips along her jaw, his touch seeming to sear her skin.



“I’m a morning person.”



Of course he was. She wrinkled her nose.



“Ugh.”



“Hey.” His arms tightened around her, surrounding her in delicious heat. “‘Ugh’ isn’t a word a man likes to hear from the woman waking in his arms.”



Callie swallowed her moan as he pressed his cheek to hers, his breath brushing her lips with the promise of a kiss.



“Then you shouldn’t have woken me up in the middle of the night.”



He chuckled. “Haven’t you heard that the early bird gets the worm?”



“Fine, you go hunt your worms and I’ll ...” She forgot how to speak as his hand slid beneath her robe to cup one aching breast. “Duncan.”



With a skill that made her eyes slide shut in feminine bliss, he circled her nipple with the tip of his finger.



“You told me to go hunting,” he reminded her. “You’re the only prey I’m interested in.”



Her hand clutched his arm as he tormented the sensitive bud with light, teasing strokes.



“I don’t think I like being called prey.”



“Okay.” With a speed that caught her off guard, Duncan had her robe pulled open and was yanking it off her body. “You be the bird and I’ll be the worm.” He pressed his fully engorged cock against the bare skin of her ass. “I have better equipment for the role.”



She gave a husky chuckle as he pressed a line of kisses down her shoulder.



“You’re such a man.”



“I try.” He growled low in his throat, one hand continuing to pleasure her breast while the other slid down the flat plane of her stomach. “My god, you feel so good in my arms.”



She arched her back, shocked by her sizzling reaction to his every touch. It was as if she were perfectly tuned to his seduction.



Or maybe he was so practiced in pleasing a female he knew just how to elicit the response he wanted.



The thought was oddly troublesome.



“Do you do this often?”



His lips explored down her shoulder blade, his hand skimming along her hip and over her thigh to slip between her legs.



“Hold you in my arms?” he teased. “Not nearly often enough.”



She pulled in a shaky breath, barely capable of thinking as he gently tugged her leg up and over his hip, leaving her exposed to the caress of his searching fingers.



“Wake up in strange beds,” she managed in a strangled voice.



“I haven’t been with a woman since my divorce,” he confessed, his lips settling at a tender point on her nape as his fingers drew absent patterns on her inner thigh.



She groaned, a damp heat forming between her legs as his fingers strayed ever higher.



Oh ... baby.



It was almost more than she could stand. The tingles of electric pleasure darted from the tips of his fingers straight to the aching void in the pit of her stomach. The gentle tug on her hardened nipple. And the brush of warm lips up and down her nape.



No man had taken such care to ensure she was so fully aroused.



“Why me?” she demanded.



His fingers traveled another inch higher. “There’s the obvious reason.”



She grasped his forearm. Not to stop him. Hell, she might strangle him if he tried to halt.



But it was becoming increasingly difficult to remain still beneath his bold caresses and she had to do something to keep from squirming right off the bed.



“And what’s that?”



“I can’t be in the same room with you without imagining you stripped naked and spread across the nearest bed.”



“That’s ...” She squeaked as his fingers at last found the tender cleft, his touch so feather-light it only added to her rising frustration.



“Dangerous,” he whispered in her ear. “But not as dangerous as the less obvious reasons.”



Oh lord, it was hard to follow his words.



Her nails dug into his arm, her hips angling forward in a silent plea for satisfaction.



“Should I ask?”



His fingers gave a tug on her nipple, sending a blast of heat through her taut body.



“You fascinate me.”



Trembling beneath the onslaught of sensations, Callie lightly raked her nails up his hair-roughened arm, ridiculously pleased when he gave a low hiss of pleasure.



Hey, what was good for the gander was good for the goose.



Or something like that.



“Because I’m a freak?” she asked, her heart missing a beat as one finger slid into the slick heat of her body.



“Because you’re clever.” He stroked deeper. “And strong.” Another mind-destroying stroke. “And aggravatingly elusive.” Stroke, stroke. She bit her bottom lip, straining to contain her building explosion. “Your talents are just the icing on the cake.”



How did he always know exactly what to say?



“I’ve never thought of them as icing,” she teased.



“Callie, you’re sweet goodness from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.” With a swift motion he had her turned flat on her back. Before she could even catch her breath, he was poised above her, offering her a wicked grin. “Let me demonstrate.”



An exquisite shudder shook her body. Oh lord, she was more than eager for a demonstration.



In this moment, she no longer cared that there was a powerful necromancer out there potentially raising an army of the walking dead. Or that Boggs had more or less implied she was supposed to stop them.



Or even that Duncan would soon be returning to his world of norms while she was destined to remain at Valhalla.



There were times when a woman had to grab at happiness, no matter how fleeting it might prove to be.



As if sensing her capitulation, Duncan growled low in his throat, his hands skimming restlessly over her bare skin as he lowered his head to scatter tiny kisses over her face.



“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he muttered, his tongue outlining her lips. “Too long.”



Callie gave a welcoming groan as one roaming hand returned between her thighs to stroke through her growing dampness.



“No one’s stopping you,” she pointed out, breathless.



He crushed her lips in a searing kiss. “I want to worship you,” he husked as his finger slid into her tight flesh. “Slowly.”



Callie instinctively dug her heels into the mattress as she arched her hips upward.



“Slow is fine. But, this is ... is ...” Oh man, his finger was creating the most delicious sensations as he dipped it in and out of her. “Torture.”



His lips cruised over her cheek, then down the line of her jaw. “No, sweetheart, this is torture.” He pressed a kiss to the pulse racing at the base of her throat. “And this.” His mouth trailed down until he could latch onto the tip of her breast. “And this.” He used his tongue to lash the delicate nipple until she was panting with need.



The aggravating man. He wasn’t playing fair.



Lifting her hands, she shoved her fingers in his golden hair and wrapped her legs around his hips.



“You’re going to pay for this, cop.”



Pulling back, he regarded her with a faint smile, the flecks of gold shimmering in the hazel eyes.



“Do you promise?”



She deliberately rubbed herself against the granite-hard length of his erection.



“Oh, I promise.”



He started to lower his head, only to pause as his gaze caught sight of the tiny tattoo hidden behind her ear. His finger brushed the delicate black hieroglyph.



“What’s this?”



“A spell of protection against common diseases.”



“You can’t get sick?”



“Not by any human illness.”



His eyes narrowed as a blush stained her cheeks. “What else?”



“It keeps me from becoming pregnant until I’m ready to have children.” She shifted beneath him. “Of course I have to have sex before I need to worry about that possibility.”



His breath caught. “Callie.” Bracing himself on his elbow, he shifted until the tip of his cock pressed against her entrance. “Are you sure?”



She tugged his hair, meeting his oddly watchful gaze. “I’m a big girl. I know what I want.”



“I just don’t want any regrets.”



“Duncan, if you don’t get on with it, I’m going to—”



Not giving her time to complete her empty threat, Duncan tilted his hips forward, sliding into her with a slow, relentless thrust.



Hissing softly, Callie clutched at Duncan’s shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. Yes, yes, yes. It felt ... perfect.



Achingly perfect.



Already prepared for his entry, her body readily accommodated his erection. Still, there was a delicious sense of fullness, and a startling connection, that she hadn’t been expecting.