Night Game (GhostWalkers #3)(74)
Author: Christine Feehan

Flame couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Only feel. A sob of pleasure escaped as her cl**ax tore through her body with such force she would have fallen if Raoul hadn’t been holding tightly to her hips. Her muscles clamped down on him, gripping hard, squeezing so hot and tight she heard his breath explode from his lungs.

He swore in Cajun, a long growling, guttural curse -while his body swelled thicker and thicker until he was rising on his toes and gritting his teeth, shuddering with pleasure as his body jerked with his own violent, explosive release.

Flame lay facedown over the side of the bed, Raoul’s thick erection buried deep inside her, his body blanketing hers, while they both gasped, searching to draw air into burning lungs and calm the wild storm crashing over their bodies. Spasm after spasm tightened ruthlessly on him. rocking them both, even as they lay quiet. She could feel her body pulsing around his, greedy for more, yet she was exhausted.

Dawn had crept into the room, the early-morning light spilling over them, bringing with it some semblance of sanity. She felt the burn of tears. She wanted to spend her life here, in this cabin, far away from the insanity of who and what she was, but it was impossible. How could she stand knowing what it would have been like to stay with him? To have him? To have a family?

Raoul would bring her pleasure beyond measure. And he would always make her laugh and feel safe and protected.

“Are you crying?” His hands stroked her hair. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She shook her head. How could she tell him the truth? Of course it hurt. He had shown her paradise and she was going to have to walk away. His hands ran down the length of her body, lingered on the sides of her br**sts.

Even that small touch sent another small aftershock rippling through her. His mouth teased the nape of her neck, his hands massaging her bottom, fingers dipping into her heat and rubbing to send another much stronger aftershock through her.

“I love that,” he whispered against her spine. “I love how hot and wet you are for me and how when I touch you, and I’m deep inside you, all your muscles clamp down on me as if you’re holding me inside you and don’t want to let me go.”

She turned her face to the side, resting it on the quilt. She looked exhausted, sated, drowsy, and sexy all together. The sight of her made his throat ache and his eyes burn. He had felt empty for so long, needing something and not even knowing it. Flame was a miracle, a once in a lifetime gift, and he wasn’t going to be fool enough to let her slip through his fingers.

His body relaxed slowly, allowing him plenty of time to enjoy the ripples of pleasure coursing through her. He helped her sit on the edge of the bed, a slow grin stealing over his face as he surveyed the room. It smelled of sex and candles and he inhaled to remember the heady aroma forever.

She looked fragile when he knew she wasn’t. Everything male in him rose up to want to protect her, which was funny, because when she got him riled, everything in him wanted to dominate her. She brought out extreme emotions in him, made him feel alive, made him want to be alive.

He drew a finger across her breast and leaned close to take the tip into his mouth, biting down gently and tugging, before laving with his tongue. He felt a shiver run through her. Male satisfaction was instant.

“We can’t stay here all day,” she said.

He felt her withdrawal, a small feminine retreat, her body moving inches from his, but definitely telling him something. He caught her chin in his hand. “Sure we can. You just got out of the hospital and you’re entitled to a day or two of resting. Even with painkillers I know that arm has to hurt.”

A faint smile curved her mouth, but didn’t reach her eyes. And she avoided looking at him. “Is this what you all resting?”

Deliberately, to prove to himself he could, he bent his mouth to her breast again, this time suckling strongly, his hand on her stomach to feel the contractions sweeping through her at his touch. He loved the power of it, the way she shuddered with instant need when he’d just had her. It took him a moment or two to realize what that meant. She was still trying to withdraw and he was asserting dominance. Frustrated, he sat back, regarding her averted face while fear and anger began a deadly mix. “What is it, Flame?”

She stared out the window, refusing to meet his gaze. “This doesn’t change anything you know.”

“What doesn’t change anything?” Gator couldn’t keep the challenge out of his voice. She damn well wasn’t going to sleep with him and dismiss him.

Flame finally turned her head and looked at him. “You know exactly what I mean. We…”

“Don’t you dare use the F word. I made love to you all last night and this morning and you knew that was exactly what I was doing. Don’t you even think about calling it anything else.”

Her eyebrow shot up. “The F word? You weren’t so afraid of using the word the other day or last night for that matter. I was going to say slept with you. You’re such a hothead. We slept together, that’s all.”

“I swear, Flame, I’ve never had anyone make me as crazy as you manage to do. I’m not letting you just dismiss me after last night.” His dark eyes glittered at her.

She shrugged as nonchalantly as she could. “I’m certain you’ve rejected lots of women after sleeping with them. Don’t act so outraged.”

He was angry. He could feel the anger churning in his gut, riding him hard as he struggled for control. He turned away, paced across the room when his fingers itched to shake her. She could pretend to be casual about what was happening between them all she wanted, but that’s what it was-pretense. “You’re being a damned coward, Flame, and that’s beneath you.”

Her breath hissed out between her teeth and she whirled around, her eyes fairly shooting sparks. “Don’t you dare call me a coward. You don’t know the first thing about me. Your ego is a little wounded because I’m not falling at your feet like all the other women you took to bed and then walked away from.”

He stepped closer to her, uncaring that the walls of the cabin expanded and contracted and beneath his feet, the ground shifted ominously. “You think I don’t know you want me as much as I want you? Hell, honey, you don’ have near the experience I have.”

Flame sucked in her breath and quickly turned her face away from him, but not before he saw the hurt in her eyes.

“Fils de putin!” Gator passed his hand over his face. This was his fault, not hers. He was the experienced one, yet he’d been so out of control, wanting her so badly, he acted like a buck in rutting season. How would she know he’d been making love to her when he hadn’t been tender and gentle?