Micah's Calling (7 page)

"What's the difference between a dom and a top?"

He could sense her excitement, and he sauntered toward her,
almost stalking her.

"A dominant requires submission, a top doesn't. As a
top, I provide physical stimulation without requiring you to submit."
Stopping in front of her, Micah reached around and spanked her, harder than
he'd intended, but she had him so worked up he couldn't help himself.

Her eyes flared wide at the physical contact.

"See," he said, "if you don't like my
slapping you as a top, you can stop me, or basically top me from the bottom.
But if I was dom'ing you, I wouldn't allow you to do that. I would have control
and your complete submission. Do you understand?"

She nibbled her bottom lip and stared up at him, totally
enthralled. "I think so. Topping and bottoming allow for give and take
between the two, but between a dominant and a submissive, one gives and one
takes. There is no give and take."

Yes, now she was getting it. "Very good. You've just
completed your first lesson."

Electricity seemed to spark the air between them, and Micah
was sooo tempted to forget the beer and pretzels, but he knew he should get
going. All this foreplay would make for a much more satisfying postgame show in
the privacy of their room later. If his
calling
could last that long,
which he was seriously beginning to doubt it would. Halftime was sounding more
and more enticing every second.

"I look forward to the next one," she said, her
voice sultry.

"So do I." He forced himself to pull away from
her, touching her face. "I'll be back. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Micah headed out and down the elevator to the store on the
corner, where he picked up a bag of pretzels and a six-pack of beer. He and Sam
weren't big drinkers, and neither was Trace, so a six-pack was plenty.

After paying, he made his way back out into the snow. It was
just flurries now, nothing heavy, and before he could get powdered in white, he
had returned to the Sentinel and took the elevator back up to the eighteenth
floor.

He could smell Sam's chili before he even stepped out into
the hall. Damn, she sure could cook.

Shifting the beer and pretzels to one hand, he pulled out
his keys and unlocked the door. The apartment was unusually quiet. Sam wasn't
in the living room or the kitchen, pandering around to prepare for Trace's
arrival.

"Sam?"

His body filled with tension. The last time he had left her
alone in his apartment, Apostle had found her and bitten her, almost killing
her. The memory was enough to make him bristle, and he quickly shut the door
then set the beer and pretzels on the kitchen counter before heading cautiously
down the hall to the bedroom.

* * *

Sam stood waiting in the room for Micah, slightly nervous.
She had never done anything like this. After he left, she had changed into a
matching black lace bra and panty, black garter, stockings, and high-heeled
ankle boots she thought she'd never have the opportunity to wear but which had been
a splurge on a careless shopping trip several months ago. She had almost
returned them, but now she was glad she hadn't.

But her clothing wasn't what she hoped would spark Micah's
blood to the boiling point. After he left, she had been in the closet looking
for her favorite sweatshirt when one of the masks she had taken from the Black
Garter Men's Club had fallen from the upper shelf. It was the black and red one
Micah had said he liked so much and had pushed into her hands on the day she
gave notice to the club's manager that she was quitting. Micah had told her
he'd seen her perform once when she'd been wearing that mask. So, of course, it
was his favorite.

When the mask fell on her, her mind had run off on a
tangent, urging her toward an idea that explored this new world Micah had
exposed her to with his dungeon of debasement.

So now she stood in the middle of their bedroom, clothed in
scanty black lingerie, sexy high heels, and a black and red leather mask with
black-out lenses over the eye holes. She was holding a wooden spoon she had
swiped from the kitchen.

Micah opened the bedroom door and her heart clenched. Could
she really do this? Could she go down this road? When Micah's gaze landed on
her in the dimly-lit room, his eyebrows perked up and the barest of smiles
flirted with his mouth. Instead of feeling self-conscious, his reaction and the
growing bulge in his jeans made her stand a little taller, emboldening her and
fortifying her resolve.

"Close the door," she said, smacking the wooden
spoon into the palm of her hand.

When he only stood there, gaping and awe-struck, she arched
an eyebrow which he couldn't see, being that it was hidden behind the mask. But
she was sure he could feel her mock irritation.

"I told you to close the door."

Finally, he reached back and gently pushed the door closed.
"Our lesson gave you ideas, did it?"

As the door latched, the room was robbed of the light being
cast in from the living room, throwing them into an even dimmer light.

He was right, though. Their lesson had given her ideas. A
lot of ideas, actually.

"Take off your clothes," she said.

Would a professional like Micah sense her nervousness? Hell,
he was probably in her head right now. If he was, he didn't let on. So maybe he
was making a point to stay out of her mind for once.

"You're doing wonderfully," he said.

Mmm, maybe he was in her head. If he was, she didn't care.
To hear him compliment her made her feel good. It told her she was doing
something right. Well, that erection obscured by his jeans told her that much,
didn't it?

Still, if she was going to do this, she needed to sink into
the part. And he needed to obey her. As she stepped to the side, she smacked
the spoon harshly against her palm, showing her irritation that he still wasn't
undressing.

"I told you to take off your clothes."

Calmly, he began untucking his shirt, watching her as she
slowly walked around him in a semi-circle, inspecting him, watching him.

As more of his body was revealed, it became harder to stay
in character. His body really was a beautiful piece of work. Sexy, sculpted,
hard and muscular. When she had first met him, he had looked nearly starved to
death. She had since learned that he hadn't been eating or feeding back then,
which was why he had looked so gaunt. But now…? Mmm-mm-mmm. Micah was twice the
man – male, whatever – he had been when they'd met, in that he had put on at
least twenty-five pounds, maybe more, of pure muscle mass.

But then, he'd been feeding from her nearly every day. At
first she had been concerned he would drain her, but then he'd explained that
her new body could regenerate blood almost as quickly as he took it. And didn't
that just work out beautifully?

Micah wasn't body builder big. Sev and Tristan were wider in
the shoulders than Micah, but Micah was taller, leaner, and stronger. Hell, his
physical form was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen.

"Would you like to assist?" he said, his tone and
his gaze giving away that he was inside her head, enjoying her appraisal of his
body.

Sam stopped and cocked her head to the side. "No. And
turn away from me while you undress."

Two could play at his game. He might be inside her head, but
she could take away the thrill he got from watching her.

Unbelievably, he did as she commanded, turning away,
unfastening his belt and unzipping his jeans. And then he was pushing them down
his long, powerful legs, kicking off his shoes before peeling his jeans all the
way off and taking his socks with them.

He was gloriously naked.

"You're so sexy like this," he said.

Oh, now…she hadn't given him permission to speak. She needed
to punish him for his transgression. Inwardly, she cringed. She had never
struck anyone like this, when she was only playing. Would Micah get angry?

Thwack!

The spoon connected with his ass, and he flinched. She bit
her lip and hesitated to see if he would turn and stop her, but he only stood
in place, stoic and unmoving, so she stepped forward and, unable to keep from
touching him any longer, raked her nails down the left side of his back to his
ass while she followed along his spine with her tongue, kneeling the lower she
went.

Micah's skin was smooth and supple, and he tasted slightly
of salt, as if he had been sweating, but not much.

Bent down behind him, she saw the red mark where she had
struck him with the spoon on the right cheek of his ass and slightly off
center. After setting down the spoon, she dug her fingers into his hips and
held him in place as she bent forward and bit the round, red mark. Hard. Micah
tensed provocatively and a moan caught in his throat as if he was purposely
biting it back.

Mmm, Micah. Sexy, hot Micah. She licked where she had just
bitten, then bit him again. Back and forth she licked then bit, licked and
nibbled. Suddenly, she wanted to lick and nibble something else.

"Turn around," she said.

As he turned, it wasn't his magnificent hard-on she saw
first. It was his dark gaze. He was looking down at her, appearing as if a god,
and for just a moment she felt like she was worshipping at his feet, kneeling
before him. But then she caught herself. She was in control here, right? At
least, that was the role she was playing.

And she would let Micah know it, too.

Sinking back on her heels, she gazed at his hard-on, her
eyes obscured by the dark lenses of the mask, and thought about taking him in
her mouth. Sam knew Micah would be in her mind, reading her thoughts, and she
wanted him to see all the things she wanted to do to him. She wanted him crazy
with lust, seeing all her torrid imaginings and yet not experiencing them as
she simply sat back and looked at him.

His breathing increased. His body tensed even more. Yes, he
was listening to her mind, wasn't he? And it was driving him mad.

See, she could use his tendency to read her thoughts to her
advantage, couldn't she? Hmm, maybe his mind-reading habit could turn out to be
an asset.

After a couple of minutes had passed, she picked up the
wooden spoon again and immediately smacked the side of this thigh. Again and
again, and still again. Then she switched to the other side and continued flaying
him. But Micah didn't so much as flinch. He took the stinging strikes in
stride, not moving, not making a sound. His body tightening up was the only
physical sign he was enduring pain.

As she smacked his thigh one final time, she pushed forward
and took his cock in her mouth, sucking him in hard, licking and swallowing him
down her throat.

Micah's legs practically gave out as he grunted, coming
almost immediately. His entire body quaked, and his knees wobbled precariously,
but somehow he remained standing as he unloaded everything he had against her
tongue.

Fuck, but she was turned on. She was on the verge of coming
herself, and as soon as his orgasm reached its end, she lay back on the floor
in front of him, opening her legs and propping herself on one elbow as she
shoved her black panties to the side and touched herself. She was wet and ready
for him. So slick and swollen.

She wanted him to watch. This was a show only for him. He
had always wanted a private performance with her when she had danced at the
Black Garter. Well, now he had one. A very special private performance, because
this was something she had never done for her clients at the Garter. Only he
was worthy of seeing her splayed, aroused, and masturbating, because he was the
one who made her feel this way.

Faster her fingers worked, circling her clit, dipping in and
out of her slick channel, returning to her clit again.

His gaze nearly devoured her as he watched, clearly wishing
to be between her legs, doing the honors with his tongue. Oh God! The thought
made her moan. Each breath expelled on a gasp as she felt the delicious
quickening in her belly, delighting in the way her muscles clenched ahead of
her release.

Unbidden, her hips thrust into her hand, gyrating and
grinding circles against the rhythm of her fingers until…

"Ungh!"

With an abrupt shiver, her hips rose violently off the floor
and she felt moisture squirt against her hand.

What the hell?

She had heard of women who could ejaculate, but this was a
first. She had never ejaculated her orgasm before. Micah's eyes nearly popped
out of their sockets as his mouth gaped. He seemed as surprised as she was.

Collapsing to the floor, she massaged herself with gentle
forward and back motions, pulling her orgasm out, prolonging it, smiling with contentment
as she stared up at him. Her Micah. He was awakening her inner sex goddess,
wasn't he? This was a side of her she had never experienced, but had somehow
always known was there.

"Come. Taste me." She beckoned him with her
glistening hand and lay back as he practically plunged between her legs and
lapped away her feminine orgasm.

Tonight, while Trace is here, know that I will be wearing
no panties under my pants. I will be wet thinking about you. I will be thinking
about your cock inside me. And after we've all gone to bed, you will take me
out to the couch and fuck me like you've never fucked anyone before, where
Trace could come out and see us at any moment.

Sam felt him grin against her nether lips before he lifted
his head and said, "Yes, ma'am."

She rolled her head and grinned as she arched her back off
the floor and languished under his oral caresses, stretching her arms over her
head. Why did the idea of being caught having sex with Micah by Trace excite
her so much?

Twenty minutes later, she hurried and got dressed after
showering with Micah. He still had a towel wrapped around his waist and was
reaching for a pair of sweats as the doorbell rang.