Murder Game (GhostWalkers #7)(43)
Author: Christine Feehan

No one wanted to be truly alone. Tansy had taught him that. He’d walked the path his entire life, thinking he wanted it. He hadn’t felt lonely. He’d chosen his path and kept to it, was comfortable with the way things were. And then he’d met her and he knew he never wanted to be alone again. Tansy might just be able to put up with his dominant, cold-as-ice personality and the raw need that only increased his craving for her. She had to be able to, because he wasn’t going back.

And now the puppet master knew he wasn’t alone. He had a companion who could tread the same minds if she chose. Tansy had noticed the smug amusement, but she hadn’t caught the flair of male interest, the scent of sex. There was intrigue. Finally, someone to share his quiet genius with. Someone who would appreciate him for his camouflage. She would know what it took to control killers, to manipulate everyone around him and not get caught. The puppet master hadn’t been alone for those few moments, and he wouldn’t want to go back.

Kadan frowned as he buried his face in the thick mass of her hair. The puppet master wouldn’t be able to stop himself any more than Kadan could. The tracker would think about it first, but she wouldn’t leave his mind, any more than Tansy could get the killers out of hers. He would obsess about her. Fantasize. Want to show her he was stronger and could beat her at her own game. He’d want to show off, because finally, there was someone who truly could understand and see him. The puppet master wouldn’t be able to resist that lure. In the end, self-preservation, discipline, and common sense would go, and he would begin to hunt her.

Kadan inhaled sharply, drawing Tansy’s scent into his lungs. His. Talk about obsession. He could go from not feeling a damned thing to—this. Need. Hunger. His hands shaking with the desire to touch her. His mouth hungry for the taste of cinnamon and sex. He skimmed the pads of his fingers down Tansy’s bare midriff, careful to keep the bristles velvet-soft, moving in the direction that prevented sticking. She liked the sensation, arching toward him even in her sleep. She was very responsive sexually, her body ripe for his with a few touches. She seemed just as starved for skin-to-skin contact as he was. When one had had a lifetime of emptiness, perhaps overindulgence and feasting were the only cure.

He glanced at his watch. They had a little time left, not much. He wanted to bring her back to the surface, replacing pain with something altogether different. He caught the sheet in his fist and pulled it down her body inch by inch to reveal the long expanse of skin. When the sheet pooled at her feet, he rolled her onto her back so he could drink in the sight of her. He’d never get tired of looking at her, never tire of touching her, or making her scream with pleasure.

His hands were big, calloused and rough, dark against her skin from so many years spent outdoors in the weather. The contrast between his hard body and her soft one gave him a monster of a hard-on, but now wasn’t the time. He was going to indulge himself, but this time, it was all for her—okay, maybe not all.

He bent his head to her and licked at her soft belly the way a cat licked at cream. She tasted faintly of peaches. He inhaled her scent again just because it gave him so much pleasure, a unique mixture of cinnamon and other spices that went straight to his groin. He flicked his tongue over her, tracing her ribs and then teasing the undersides of her br**sts.

Tansy moaned softly. He felt her fingers move in his hair.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was a mixture of sexy and drowsy, playing along his nerve endings, so that every muscle tightened and electricity arced over his skin.

He teased his way up the outside slope of her breast, swirled around her nipple, and then bit down gently. A broken cry escaped her throat. She tugged at his hair.

“I’m not awake yet.” If it was meant as a protest, it failed miserably; excitement edged her voice.

“You don’t have to be.” He drew her breast into his mouth, suckling strongly. She was evidently very sensitive, because she arched into him, nearly coming off the bed.

Tansy closed her eyes, allowing the sensations to roll over and into her. His voice was pure velvet, brushing at the insides of her thighs until she was shaking with arousal. His knee roughly pushed apart her legs, allowing him better access as he kissed his way back down her belly, making her stomach muscles bunch with need.

He was fully clothed, the denim rubbing roughly against her skin, and there was something very decadent and forbidden at being totally naked, held open beneath a fully clothed man. His hands went to her thighs, pushing them even wider as he dipped his head low. His hair brushed against her inner thighs, making her jump and shiver. The shadow along his jaw scraped, sending flames dancing over her skin.

He bit at her inner thighs, his tongue bathing the tiny stings. Her h*ps bucked and she tried to pull his head away, squirming, moaning, rather shocked at her body’s uninhibited reaction to him. His breath hissed out at being denied, and he caught both wrists in one hand and pinned them against her belly, raising his head an inch to look at her with dangerous eyes.

“Lie still.”

“I can’t.” Her head tossed on the pillow. “It’s too much.” His weight pinned her down while his shoulders kept her legs spread apart, her silken sheath open to him.

He didn’t bother to contradict her, but simply lowered his head again, taking long, slow licks, lapping at the spicy cream her body rewarded him with. Her h*ps continued to jerk and buck, as she writhed beneath his relentless tongue.

He took her over the edge in minutes, enjoying every moment of her soft body melting beneath him. He loved the look on her face, the shocked delight as waves of pleasure rolled through her. Kadan laid his head on her tummy, his arm slung around her waist, feeling the aftershocks gently rock her while he touched her mind. He’d driven out the demons, slammed the door closed on the voices, and left, in the place of cold and evil, something altogether different. There was a feeling of warmth, of love even. He winced away from the word, but it was out there now, in his mind. Love. What was it and how had such an emotion twisted its way into his heart and mind?

He pressed kisses from her belly to her br**sts. “It isn’t about the heart, Tansy, it’s all about the soul.”

She brushed the hair from his forehead with gentle fingers. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know you don’t. It’s just as well. I’m the tough guy, remember?”

He pushed up, but Tansy caught his arm. “Are you all right? Tell me if something is wrong.” He’d just sent her rocketing to the moon, and now he was already slipping away from her into a remote, distant man she could barely read, and he knew it bothered her. He hated separating himself, but he had to get her parents to safety before deciding if they should live or die.