Deadly Game (GhostWalkers #5)(35)
Author: Christine Feehan

Holding her on his lap was plain stupidity, but he couldn’t let her go. He couldn’t control his body’s reaction, and it was too good to feel alive again. And the more he was around her, the bigger a reaction he got—and the faster. The painful continual erection was part of the pleasure now, but pain was a small price to pay to be able to feel like a man. He had thought that had been taken from him. Holding her, feeling her body so soft and pliant, the way it fit into his, the curve of her bottom nestled in his lap, the brush of her br**sts against his arm, robbed him of his breath and most of his sanity.

His body throbbed and burned, his raging hard-on constant. Hell, he hadn’t been able to get it up at all after the torture, and now it wouldn’t go away, bulging and painfully swollen with need, wedged along the seam of her bu**ocks. She couldn’t fail to feel how much he wanted her. The sway of the Escalade only added to his increasing discomfort, as her bottom rubbed over him.

He was starving to taste every damn inch of her, was desperate for the feel of her bare skin against his—and the heat of his body was affecting her as well. Her breath quickened, her br**sts rose and fell beneath the shirt she wore, her body moved restlessly, sliding over his, causing a burst of pleasure throbbing through his cock.

He needed to slide his hands beneath her shirt and feel hot skin, cup her br**sts and tease her ni**les into hard peaks. He wanted more than that—so much more. He wanted to eat her like candy, take her fast and rough, hearing her soft little cries, her moans, begging him for more. Always more. He had to keep her wanting him—tie her to him sexually. He could do it—he had no doubts about that.

Her mouth was made for kissing, for sex. He could only fantasize about her mouth around his cock, her teeth scraping over the scars, her tongue dancing over him. She would be kneeling in front of him, cupping his sac, her fingernails raking over him, drawing out his pleasure, and all the while her chocolate eyes would be locked with his, while she took him down her tight, hot throat, watching what she did to him—loving what she was doing to him.

He had never lusted after a woman the way he did Mari. His heart thudded so loud he thought it might burst through his chest. His blood heated to boiling, rushing through veins sizzling with fire, and spreading through his body to sensitize every nerve ending. His pulse thundered in his ears, roaring to bury his body into hers.

He would seduce her slowly, teasingly, lick and suck and bite her br**sts and ni**les. Just an edge of pain. She would stare up at him with her large eyes, a little shocked, but breathless with need, silently begging him for more—and he would oblige. He’d show her who her man was, ruin her for anyone else, make her crave his touch—the hot lick of his tongue over every inch of her body.

He wouldn’t be able to be easy when he took her; he’d struggle for control, but she’d be too hot, too tight, her velvet-soft muscles clamping around him as he plunged into her, driving hard, taking possession of not only her body, but her soul. She was his and he was going to make certain she knew it.

Mari could see erotic images dancing in her head. Her stomach muscles clenched hard, her womb spasmed. She couldn’t help but react to the desperate hunger in him. His was a dark seduction, rough and edged with violence, the images dominant and filled with raw lust. She swallowed several times, her mouth dry, her heart pounding as she met the sheer intensity of his silver gaze.

Her breath stilled, caught in her lungs as his gaze drifted possessively over her, hot and aroused and filled with na**d desire. She could feel fingers stroking over her br**sts, almost feel the bite of his teeth, the lap of his tongue teasing her ni**les, fingers stroking her inner thighs until her body wept with need.

Stop it! Mari circled his neck with her arms, pressing closer so he could feel the hard peaks of her ni**les. You’re killing me here. You can’t do this with the others here. We aren’t alone.

I can’t do this without them here. If we were alone, I’d strip you na**d and eat you alive. God, Mari, do you have any idea how bad I want to lay you down and f**k your brains out? Damn it. That didn’t come out right. It’s more than that—far more than that. Because he wanted her to belong to him. He wanted to wake up every morning looking at her face, find ways to make her laugh, take years to know every facet of her personality. He didn’t know why, but that need was every bit as strong as the need to be deep inside of her.

He could smell her musky scent, calling to him. She was damp with need, reacting to his graphic fantasy and language. Instead of being afraid or repulsed, she was reacting. A part of him wanted to weep. Any woman should run screaming from his mutilated body. In his fantasy, the images in his head, he had been explicit, his c**k scarred with multiple cuts, his balls covered with them. He hadn’t held back the need for rough sex, yet she wanted him. Just the thought of her wanting him made him so hard he thought he might burst, and each time her bottom slid seductively over the thick bulge in his lap, his blood pounded savagely.

Has it ever been like this for you before?

Ken could hear the sudden shy note in her voice. She was embarrassed to ask him, yet needed to know. He tunneled his fingers through the thick mass of gold- and platinum-colored hair. No.

What are we going to do about it?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m going to put as much distance between us as possible.

And I don’t have a say in your decision?

He bent his head to hers, buried his face in her hair and just held her close to him, savoring her scent and the softness of her body. You don’t know what you are, Mari. A gift. Something to treasure, something so precious I don’t dare take a chance on being around you. If I had you, even once, I’d never be able to let you go. He brushed a kiss in her hair, uncaring that his brother was watching. He had only a few more precious hours with her and then she’d be out of his life forever. He was going to take what he could get. I could never say these things out loud to you. It’d sound corny, and I’d feel like an idiot, but you need to hear them.

Maybe I’m not able to let you go, Mari ventured.

You have no choice.

Chapter 8

“She’s had two nosebleeds on the plane and we can’t get this one stopped,” Logan announced, racing to open the door for Lily. “Did you pull her file so we could match her blood type?”

Ken carried Mari in his arms, jogging after the dark-haired woman as she hurried down the hall to the small clinic in the giant laboratory complex.

“Jack or Ken can donate. They’re both the same blood type,” Lily answered, gesturing toward the beds. “Get her in here fast.”