Charleston Past Midnight by Christine Edwards

searches for the right words, still trying to gather rational thoughts.
    She nuzzles her soft cheek against mine and whispers, “Thank you for showing me how it can be.”
    Instead of answering her, I lower my mouth to press against her plump, parted lips. She clings to me as I carry her out of the bathroom, straight toward the bed. I never intended to take her in such a violent manner, especially not the first time, but when I scented her lust through the closed door and then saw it written as plain as day on her features, something deep inside me snapped. My calculated control disintegrated, and like a completely greedy bastard, I took exactly what I wanted, precisely the way I wanted to. Never have I known better. The way her tight pussy gripped me like a fine, fitted glove left me barely able to hold on, so intent was I on getting her there—making the experience just as unforgettable for her as it was for me.
    I lower her down to the center of the mattress, and with great reluctance, gently pull out of her. I’m more than ready to sink into her delicious body once again but I want to be certain that she is all right, not too sore. I also need to ensure that I didn’t draw too much blood.
    Her hands are quivering as they release their hold on my neck. I lie down across from her and smooth my hand over her shoulder before slowly pulling her against me. With our faces mere inches apart, I ask cautiously, “Are you hurting anywhere? I regret being so rough—”
    “Shh … no. I’m perfectly fine. Besides, the way you acted back there turned me on more than I ever thought ….” Her voice trails off. She is clearly embarrassed by the direction the conversation is heading.
    I love it rough, nearly always, and am astounded by her reaction. Not only can she take me that way, but she craves it. Perfection. I bring a stray lock of her hair up to my face and press it against my lips, consciously avoiding what’s to come.
    I need to get down to business with her because at this point I’m only delaying the inevitable. She deserves to hear the truth.
    “Calla, I have to explain some things to you. Things that will undoubtedly upset you.”
    Confusion flits across her stunning face as her brows draw together.
    “And those things would be …?”
    “Every moment you spend with me places you in considerable danger, Calla, yet without my protection the threat you face would be tenfold. Does this make sense?”
    “Mostly, but you’re gonna have to elaborate, Severin.”
    I sigh, really not wanting to get into this, especially directly after what we just shared. But the girl deserves to know exactly what she faces.
    “You are what is called a ‘seer,’ Calla. Have you heard that term before?”
    She shakes her head slowly, keeping a close eye on me as I continue, “Your gift is both rare and exceptional to our kind. Your ability to sporadically see into the future will only be magnified should you ever turn.”
    “ Turn ? You mean, turn into a vampire ?”
    The final word falls from her lips as if it’s the most frightening nightmare ever. My heart clenches having to tell her the certain likelihood of her fate.
    “Calla, regardless of how you see my kind, now that Valdon knows you exist there isn’t a corner on this planet where he would not track you down to in order to possess you, to be in control of your unique gift. Your abilities equal power and power is paramount to divinity in our plane of existence. He wants to harness that power, to dominate you for his benefit Calla. Do you understand?”
    Christ, would she be in this situation had I not intervened the night I saved her? I have my doubts. But if I could go back, there is still no way I would have let those wretched humans have their way with her. Never. I know myself too well. This is fate. It’s all playing out for a reason, but that still doesn’t mean that I can’t have a firm hand in the outcome.
    As she pushes up onto her elbow I can see the