Night Game (GhostWalkers #3)(71)
Author: Christine Feehan

Flame couldn’t imagine there being more. More might kill her. He wanted her crying? She was nearly sobbing for mercy. His mouth was so hot, blazing a trail of fire along her tummy. He paid particular attention to her tattoo, licking along the flames, kissing her scar, driving her crazy. His hand slid up her thigh, drowning her in sensations she’d never experienced.

His eyes met hers as his tongue paid lavish attention to her belly button, and then began to track lower, dropping little kisses and teasing bites all the way down to the end of the mesh. His fingers brushed her mound and she jerked beneath his hand, a moan escaping, one that brutally hardened him to the point of agony. He wanted to sink into her heat immediately, but not before she was writhing mindlessly. Flame was a warrior woman and he needed to keep her involved, because if she changed her mind, he’d have a fight on his hands. He lowered his head and inhaled her scent.

“Raoul.”

There was a catch in her voice. A tremor. He heard it as he flicked his tongue along the flowering moist seam. She nearly came apart as he widened her thighs to accommodate his shoulders. He pushed his tongue inside her with a slow deliberate stroke. Her hand twisted in his hair and she pushed forward into his mouth.

She tasted sweet, like honey and he couldn’t stop himself from diving deeper, taking his fill. He flicked and stabbed with his tongue, sucked and teased until she bucked against his mouth, sobbing for release.

Flame tried to find an anchor, something, anything at all to hold her to earth. She wasn’t prepared for his expertise and Raoul was sweeping her away before she could catch her breath, or think or analyze or do any of the things she needed to do for control. His mouth was insistent, drinking her, eating her, shattering her every erotic fantasy and replacing it with something far too real. He seemed to savor her taste, groaning with need, hot and hungry and desperate for more.

Flame couldn’t catch her breath as pleasure crashed over her, wave after wave of it, her body not her own, but his to do with as he wanted. She screamed as her entire stomach contracted, her belly, and br**sts and her thighs. “I can’t take any more.” She gasped the words, wanting more, needing more, but afraid it was going to till her.

“There’s so much more,” he whispered. “I want to be inside you, Flame. I can’t wait any longer.”

The sound of his voice, the look on his face, the harsh hunger for her nearly sent her over the edge. She widened her legs as he knelt between them. Her heart began to pound and fear edged up into her throat. She wasn’t giving herself to him. It wasn’t like that at all. She repeated it over and over to herself, waiting. Feeling the large head of his erection pressed tightly against her. He pushed slightly, but he didn’t enter her, making her wait.

“Look at me.”

She swallowed hard, her eyes meeting his. He wasn’t even in her and he felt too big. She should have started with something much smaller.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” His voice was harsh with the struggle for control.

Flame shook her head. “Who was I going to do anything with?” Her fist tightened in the quilt. If he stopped, she had no idea what she was going to do. She knew so much in theory, but he was light-years ahead of her.

It shouldn’t have made him feel more possessive to know that no other man had had her. It was a primitive way to think, but he was beyond all reason, it seemed. when it came to Flame.

“This is us. You and me, Flame. And this is my choice. I want you because of who and what you are, not because of an experiment. You’re in my heart. You have to understand that. This is only between us.”

She could hardly think or breathe, her body not her own anymore. His features were set and determined. He was waiting for a response. She didn’t have one, didn’t know what was real when it came to her life. She’d never had a man want her the way Raoul did. His hunger was so raw, so intense she almost couldn’t believe it was for her. She managed a nod, lifting her hips, searching for more, searching for relief. She needed him inside of her now.

He watched her face as he began to push into her body. “You’re so f**kin’ tight you’re killing me, Flame.” And hot and slick and velvet soft yet gripping him like a fist. He stretched her slowly, terrified of hurting her, but far too close to losing his own control.

She thought he had it the wrong way around. He was killing her, stretching her impossibly. It stung, burned, yet it felt so good. She didn’t know if she wanted to fight him off of her, or drag him closer.

“Don’t move.”

She realized she had been moving, pressing closer, trying to take more of him, wanting all of him. She could feel her muscles clenching around him, gripping him tight, beginning to spasm with the hard slide of his body. She moved again, an enticing little wiggle she couldn’t quite stop. He groaned and surged forward, past the thin barrier to lodge deep. The bite of pain mingled with a burst of pleasure and the breath exploded out of her in a single rush.

“Its all right now.” His voice was strained. He moved, withdrawing from her, so that she held her breath at the first feel of fiery friction. He surged into her deep and hard, making her cry out. His arms looped beneath her thighs giving him a better angle so each time he pistoned forward through her tight folds, he could hear that breathless little cry over and over. It seemed to vibrate through his body and center in his groin adding to his own pleasure.

Her body squeezed tightly around his until he felt sweat beading on his forehead with the intensity of the sensations pouring over him. She was so hot and the sight of her, lying under him, her body sprawled out for his pleasure alone was enough to send him into oblivion. With every hard stroke as he thrust into her, her round br**sts swayed, ni**les hard with desire-for him. Her eyes were slightly glazed and her breath was ragged. Her soft little moans drove him crazy, vibrating through his body, swelling his c**k more than he’d ever experienced.

Gator didn’t want to stop, wanted to be forever just like this, his idea of paradise, thrusting in and out of her tight body with hard, deep strokes, watching the effect of his body on hers, the near ecstasy washing over her and the idea that she was his. Only his. That she opened to him, body and mind and heart when she never let any other so close. That alone was a huge turn-on to him.

The walls of her channel tightened impossibly around him with hard deep spasms, contracting and squeezing, the orgasm exploding over both of them, robbing him of what little control he had left. He swelled impossibly bigger, his balls drawing up painfully and then he was surging hard, pounding into her, a single long note of ecstasy escaping from his throat. His orgasm seemed endless, a merciless volcano pouring through his body and into hers while she sobbed, clutching at the quilt, trying to ride out the exquisite torment.