Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers #9)(54)
Author: Christine Feehan

Beneath him she stiffened, rejecting the idea. Tension ran through her, and for a moment she pushed up with her arms. He easily kept her wrists pinned to the mattress, brushing more kisses over her eyelids and down her cheek, back to the corner of her mouth. When she relaxed under him, he lifted his head and looked at her.

“Whatever am I going to do with you?” he whispered as his teeth nipped her stubborn little chin. “You’re giving me trouble already, Rose.”

“I’m not as trusting as you are,” she explained.

“No?” He could feel her body, warm silk, melting beneath his, drawing his attention to the shape and feel of her.

Kane transferred her left wrist to his other hand so he had both pinned in one hand, leaving him free to explore the way he wanted. “I dream of you, Rose.” He slipped the buttons open on her blouse. “Every damn night.” He pushed the two edges of her blouse apart to expose her soft skin.

Her stomach muscles bunched. His gaze leapt to the exposed bare skin, and he bent his head to press kisses from underneath her br**sts down to her belly button. His tongue tasted that smooth expanse of skin. “When I was unconscious I dreamt of you, just like this, lying under me, my hands on your body. I woke up a thousand times, my body so damned hard I could barely move with wanting you.”

“You should have told me,” she whispered, her voice unsteady. “I would have … helped.”

His entire body jerked, not just his cock. Her tone, that whispery brush of velvet, slipped inside of him and wreaked havoc with every nerve ending. His heart went wild, and blood rushed hot through his veins. She could turn his world erotic just with the sound of her voice. He nibbled his way around her soft tummy and then took a small bite.

“What did Eric say about making love?”

Her hands came up to find his hair, smoothing her fingers through the strands. “I’ve stopped bleeding and I feel healed. It’s been several weeks, Kane.”

“What did Eric say?” he repeated.

She scowled at him. “As if I’d ask his permission for something like that.” She blushed when he kept looking at her.

“I don’t want to take chances.”

“It’s my body. I know it better than he does,” she said stubbornly and pushed the shirt completely off her arms. “In any case, you’re more apt to have a problem than I am.”

He took that as a challenge, kissing his way back up to her br**sts where he undid her nursing bra. He licked at her ni**les until he had her squirming.

“You’re going to get my milk flowing,” she cautioned.

“That’s all right,” he murmured, losing himself in the sweet exploration of her body. “What’s wrong with that?”

“It will be messy. I’m going to drip all over us.”

“Sex is messy, honey. It’s supposed to be hot and sweaty and feel so damn good you just don’t care.” He kissed his way back down her tummy. Her skin was so hot and soft. The memories of her haunted him day and night. He remembered the way she felt, the way her body fit so perfectly to his.

He took his time, his hands and mouth mapping her body leisurely and imprinting it in his mind all over again. He wanted to know every place that sent her squirming, her h*ps bucking, her mouth gasping. He loved her breathless moans and the way she was so responsive to his touch.

“It’s been too long, Rose,” he whispered against her soft belly. He could tell that her body, so long fit and strong, was already firming up. He kissed all the way down to the vee at the junction of her legs.

“Kane.”

The little gasp was a plea or a protest. He doubted if she knew which. He swirled his tongue, drawing patterns along her sensitive tummy while his hands eased her thighs apart, allowing him to settle more firmly between her legs. Her thighs were firm and so slender it made his heart pound. He was a big man, and she was very small, built like many of the Asian women he’d seen. She seemed fragile, and with his enormous strength and big hands, he was a little afraid he might hurt her.

His body remembered how tight she’d been surrounding him, strangling him, clamping down on him like a hot, velvet vise. He knew his c**k leaked in anticipation, desperate to find that paradise again, but he was determined to do the right thing by her. He wanted to make absolute certain that he wouldn’t harm her or hurt her if they made love.

He lowered his head, closing his eyes as her feminine scent enveloped him. There was rapture in the fragrance that was uniquely Rose. He caught her small bottom with one hand and lifted her h*ps as he bent to her. He felt the satisfying shiver going through her body even before he blew warm air across her mound.

He doubted if she would believe that he was already far in love with her, a complete goner—that he had been before he’d allowed Whitney to pair them, but he could show her. With his body raging at him and his mind filled with an all-consuming love for her, he tasted her. Her body shuddered and bucked with just that small attention—and he was damn good at details. He took his time, lavishing attention on her with his mouth and tongue. His fingers stroked deep into her and withdrew.

He couldn’t help but watch the helpless pleasure glazing her eyes. He loved that look. He loved that he could make her as mindless as she could him. He had never thought that seeing to a woman’s pleasure could give him back so much. He felt every shudder, heard every moan and whimper as music. Her h*ps bucked in his hand, her body writhed. Hot nectar flowed, and he devoured her intimately, driving her up time after time until she pleaded and demanded and all but pulled his hair out.

He didn’t want to stop. She made him hungry for more with her desperate moans and pleas. He hadn’t known how powerful and satisfied a man could feel when his woman tossed mindlessly beneath him, gasping and begging for release. He sent her tumbling over the edge when he heard the panic creeping in. Even as her orgasm tore through her body, he couldn’t help stroking her gently with his tongue just to share the experience with her.

His body was on fire, and he swore a jackhammer was in the process of drilling through the middle of his skull. His blood thundered in his ears and hammered through his cock. The sensation in his groin had gone from a dull ache to a savage pounding, but strangely, he found himself very satisfied.

Rose lay under Kane, his larger body sprawled over hers. Her body trembled and shuddered, the sensations almost more than she could take. Kane could do that to her, make her think of her body as belonging to him. He seemed to know exactly the places to stroke, or bite, or lave with his tongue for maximum results. She stroked his thick hair and looked into his eyes. She could see adoration there—more even—love. It humbled her, shocked her. She could barely make herself believe that a man like Kane could feel that way about her.