Night Game (GhostWalkers #3)(101)
Author: Christine Feehan

Flame nearly jumped out of her skin. “I’m too sensitive.” She hadn’t thought it would feel different, his tongue moving over bare flesh, but it did. Every nerve ending seemed more heightened, more aware. “My legs are going to give out.”

He blew warm air against her, pressed another kiss against her bare lips. He felt her shiver. Her body responded with inviting moisture. “Hold on to me for just another minute. I can’t stop, baby, not this time. You’re so beautiful and perfect and I need this.” His tongue dipped and stroked, small caresses designed to send her temperature soaring. She was so sweet, he could spend hours devouring her. Her hand clenched in his hair and her entire body trembled.

With a little sigh he stood up, lifted her, and seated her on the very edge of the bed. “I’ve waited a long time for you. I don’ think I have much in the way of self-control.”

“I don’t have much in the way of stamina so I guess we’ll be fine.” The raw desire etched on his face took her breath away.

He bent to kiss her again. His mouth was commanding, wild even, yet he was careful not to rub against the open port. He kissed his way down to the tips of her br**sts, hands exploring every inch of her body, reclaiming her, possessive. “You’re so damned soft, mon amour. Soft and silky and so hot. I can’t wait to be inside of you.”

He nuzzled her legs apart, pulling her bottom to the very edge of the bed so he could press his throbbing c**k into her body. He took it slow, watching her body swallow his inch by slow inch. It was an erotic sight, her bare lips stretching around his thickness, feeling the hot slick muscles of her channel open reluctantly for him, gripping him like a tight fist, surrounding him with a fiery friction every time he moved.

Flame couldn’t stop the small little moans from escaping. She’d forgotten how good he felt inside of her. She’d forgotten how it felt to be a woman, sexy and exciting and wanted. Wanted. Raoul wanted her any way he could have her. She could see his eyes lit with a combination of love and lust. She could see the harsh sensuality etched into his face as he drove deep, picking up the pace, thrusting into her, fingers digging into her hips, pulling her into him as if he couldn’t wait to be buried to the hilt.

Each long stroke took her breath until her lungs burned and her body wound tighter and tighter. She felt the clench of her muscles biting down hard, clamping around him as he swelled impossibly thicker, stretching her even more. His heat drove out the cold lodged so deeply in her, replacing it with hot streaks of pleasure so intense she knew she was lost-didn’t care if she were lost. He took her away from the cold and the sickness and made her whole again. She threw her head back as he surged into her, letting each fiery stroke take her closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m sorry, baby, I can’t hang on any longer. You’re so damn hot I’m going up in flames.” Gator could barely get the words out, his body tightening, the explosion rocketing through him as he emptied his seed deep inside of her. Her tight muscles clamped down so hard around him the pleasure spiraled out of control and he couldn’t stop until she was screaming his name, her body convulsing around his.

She slumped against him, her head on his shoulder, her breathing ragged. She was exhausted, but sated. She could feel her muscles pulsing around him, the after shocks nearly as strong as the tidal wave of pleasure. She fought for breath as she waited for the intensity to fade.

“Lie back. I’m getting in bed with you.”

“I don’t think I can move.” She did though, falling sideways until she felt his body slip from hers and the pillow met her head. She would have pulled up a sheet to cover her nakedness, but her arm felt too heavy.

Gator sat on the edge of the bed and watched her. He couldn’t stop staring at her, the way she looked all sexy and innocent at the same time. Drowsy and satisfied, almost purring, her fingers tangling with his. He bent down and pressed a kiss against her intriguing belly button. “I want you to marry me. Don’ say no, cher. I know you want me to apologize for what I did, but I’m not going to lie to you. I’d do it again. I need you alive in this world, even if I can’t have you. I should be sorry, but you left me no choice.”

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “You could have been wrong. Lily might have been working with Whitney.”

“Then I would have killed them both.” His gaze held hers. “Why can’t you forgive Lily? Your anger at me is tied up with your anger at her. We both love you and we both cared enough to put our relationship with you on the line in order to save your life. You’re a logical person, Flame. You don’t carry a grudge unless there’s a reason.”

She tried to smile, but it wouldn’t come. “I never let myself think about that. I can’t.” She lowered her voice. I’ve never told anyone.”

“I’m not anyone. I’m the man you love and no matter what it is, I’m going to be right here with you, working it out. Let’s just get this over so we can live our lives.”

“What about Whitney? He’ll regroup and come at us again.”

“Fuck Whitney. While he’s regrouping, we’re going to be hunting him. It won’t be so easy the next time. Now stop stalling and tell me.”

She was going to tell him. He was so bossy and so insistent on his way. Wheedling, bossing, it was all the same. He knew what he wanted and one way or the other, he got it. Could she live with that? Could she live with his particular brand of protection? She tightened her fingers on his. She didn’t want to live without him- that was the bottom line. When she was feeling better, she’d be able to hold her own against him, but for now, she let him take over, let him push her into the past.

The door in her head was cracking open, the memory spilling out no matter how hard she tried to push it away from her. Lily betraying her. The men dragging her back. Whitney had stood there, staring at her with cold fury through the glass, soundproofed shield. His gaze held cold fury and he just stood there as the men slapped her face, stripped her room of everything she had, and then marched her in front of the glass, holding her still by the thick swatch of hair.

She hadn’t meant to do it, pulse that low note of sound that the two men throwing her things around couldn’t even hear. The man holding her by the hair thought her helpless, thought she was cowed by the three stinging slaps to her face. She was crying and after all, she was a child.