Murder Game (GhostWalkers #7)(21)
Author: Christine Feehan

Tansy might have screamed. She didn’t know. Maybe no sound actually emerged, but the scream of pleasure was locked tightly in her mind. He didn’t look up; instead he licked at her, taking long catlike strokes with his tongue, licking at her as if he was starving and desperate for cream. Her womb reacted with a slow rolling, rippling with pleasure, spilling more rich wetness.

He growled something, the sound vibrating through her body. She caught at his shoulders, trying to steady herself when she was on the verge of collapsing, as wave after wave of sheer pleasure consumed her. Her stomach tightened, the muscles bunching, tension spreading with the rising heat.

“I can’t stand it.” She threw her head back, legs splayed wide, his mouth at her, tongue circling the knot of nerves, until a sob of ecstasy escaped. She pushed against him mindlessly, thrusting with her hips, seeking more as the tension never lessened. His mouth and tongue and fingers stroked and caressed and ate her alive, until she was burning up in a fever of desperate need.

The orgasm took her by surprise, racing over her, body bucking helplessly with mind-numbing pleasure as her womb and feminine channel grew hotter and hotter and tighter and tighter, until she simply fragmented, losing control, losing herself in the fiery heat, giving herself up to his mouth and hands.

Kadan was on his feet, shedding his jeans, lifting her, growling instructions. “Wrap your legs around my waist. Hurry, Tansy. I need you.” Because if he didn’t bury himself inside of her, he was going to lose his mind.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, mashing her soft br**sts against his chest while her long legs wrapped around his waist. She locked her ankles, nearly sobbing with need. He pressed the broad head of his shaft against her slick, wet entrance. He could barely breathe now, shocked at his own lack of control.

He felt fire blazing over his skin, lightning sizzling through his bloodstream as he began to invade her soft body, pushing through tight folds, so hot, like raw silk gripping him, burning him clean again. Inch by slow inch, he sank into her depths until he felt her wince as he lodged against a thin barrier.

“Hold on to me, Tansy,” he whispered through clenched teeth. She had to be a virgin—when he was sliding away from reality and careening out of control. “Let your weight come down on me.” His eyes met hers. He wanted her trust. He didn’t deserve it. He’d betrayed her already by using her own compassion against her, but he still wanted her—Tansy—the real woman, giving everything she was to him.

Her eyes went dark, the shine more luminous. Never taking her gaze from his, she pushed down, while he thrust up. The ripple of pain went through her mind to his and he stopped, leaning forward to find her mouth in an attempt to kiss the hurt away. He waited until she was kissing him back, until he felt her body stop resisting his, allowing his invasion so that he sank deeper into her, until he was buried to the hilt.

He let her set the pace, urging her with his hands on her h*ps to ride him, to find a rhythm that she could manage while getting used to the feel of his thickness stretching her. He hadn’t expected to need her so much, or that he would burn so hot. She was so damned tight, tighter than he’d imagined. The walls of her sheath felt alive, velvet soft, scalding hot, pulsing and throbbing around him, gripping him and sliding over him until he wanted to shout hoarsely with joy. Each moment inside of her sent light shimmering through him, piercing every dark shadow until for the first time that he could remember, he felt alive.

When he thought he couldn’t live through another moment of her long, slow slide, she tightened her muscles even more, nearly causing him to lose control completely. He gripped her h*ps then, taking over, setting his own pace, thrusting hard and deep, feeling like a madman who couldn’t get enough.

Her small, broken cry only added fuel to the flames. Her nails bit into his shoulders as she clung to him, lifting herself to meet his deep surges. The sound of their bodies coming together was loud in the night, but he could only hear his breath, shuddering in and out of his lungs as the world burned hotter and his body tightened and tightened until everything he ever was centered in his groin.

Her low keen shattered what little control he had left, and he began to piston into her, stretching the tension on a thin, taut wire, pushing her beyond anything she’d ever considered, until she was pleading with him for release. He kept going, plunging into her, sinking as deep as he could, never wanting to end his time with her. There was nothing in his world but Tansy, with her perfect body surrounding his. The heat and fire of her. The explosive chemistry. The soft skin and the even softer channel that stroked and gripped and held him tighter than her arms. And that scent of cinnamon that filled him with craving.

He shifted her just an inch to apply more pressure to that sweet spot, the bundle of sensitive nerves that had her sobbing out his name. And then her body rippled. Once, twice, clamped down hard, milking and squeezing. Wave after wave tore through her, taking him with her. He felt her body dragging the hot seed out of him, filling her while she pulsed around him.

She dropped her head onto his shoulder, utterly spent. He should have been. He lowered her feet to the ground, but held her, swaying, tight against him. They stayed that way for a several long moments before he felt the shift in her mind, in her body, the sudden withdrawal. He closed his eyes and held her tighter, not willing for this moment to be over. She had to give him this night. One night.

“Don’t,” he said softly. “Let me have you.”

“I gave myself to you,” she said, not lifting her face from his chest.

He picked her up, cradling her close to him. “It isn’t enough. I need tonight.”

She couldn’t pretend she didn’t want it either. She might never have another night like this one. She didn’t touch men. She didn’t dare risk it. Yet she’d given everything to Kadan, opening her mind, letting him feel her pleasure, share it, until he’d driven her over the edge, the sensations she’d never expected to be able to experience, hers to hold forever.

“What happens tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, Tansy, but we have now. Tonight. This one time for us. Let it be for us.”

She wavered, afraid if she took it any further, she’d never be able to get anything of herself back. She had convinced herself love wasn’t for her. A man of her own was impossible, and she was too pragmatic to give herself false hope. But here he was, offering her the chance of a lifetime, one night with a man utterly and completely devoted to her pleasure. She read that in his mind, how much he wanted her to feel.