Conspiracy Game (GhostWalkers, #4)(95)

“I’m protecting you.”

“The way you do Ken? Has it ever occurred to you that you don’t want someone to love you because then you’d have to accept a little protection back? Ken would die for you—nearly did die for you—and that’s not acceptable, is it? Only you want that choice, but life—and relationships—don’t work that way. Ken is part of who you are, but even then, you don’t like to relinquish control to him, do you?”

“You’re going to get yourself in trouble, Briony.”

“Why? Because you can’t take the truth? You want me on your terms. You want me to stay and accept you as you are, but you’ll be damned if you’ll accept me for who I am. I’m a woman with my own needs. I’m not going to let a little fear stand in my way—especially if the experience is pleasurable.”

“You have no idea what my needs are, Briony, what you’re asking for.”

“I’m asking you to love me, Jack. If you can love me and accept me for myself, I can do the same for you. I can give you anything you need. I don’t want to be here, forcing you to give up your life for me because we happen to have made a baby together. And I’m no martyr to give up my life for you with nothing in return but protection.”

Jack spread out his hands, palms up. “This is it, Briony. This is me loving you. I’ve never felt for anyone else—or wanted anyone else—in my life the way I do you. I don’t know how to romance a woman, or how to be gentle or tender… ”

She shook her head. “You’re so sad, Jack. You’re very romantic and gentle and tender. You don’t see yourself at all.”

“You don’t see me. You’ve built me up in your mind because I shield you from pain.” He couldn’t pull his gaze from hers, no matter how much he told himself to walk away, walk into the night. The demons raged tonight, demanding things better left alone, yet she stood there, with her soft skin and beautiful face and her too innocent eyes asking him to love her.

How the hell did he know what love was? Obsession—yes. Domination—yes. But love? Looking at her hurt. Did that count? Wanting to keep her safe—watch her smile, watch her eyes light up when she saw him. What the hell was love?

“I scared you when I took control. You couldn’t stop me and you knew it. I saw the fear in your eyes, felt it move in my mind and I couldn’t stop, couldn’t let go and give you control back.”

“Of course there was fear. I was doing something I’d never done before, but it was part of the excitement. I trust you, Jack, more than you trust yourself. You were in my mind, I felt you there, guiding my actions, and you knew I was loving every single minute of what I was doing. The fear doesn’t matter—it never has. When you took control, I felt more powerful than I’ve ever felt in my life. More beautiful and sexy and hot. I wanted you so much and I wanted to make you feel exactly the way you were feeling.”

He watched her throat work, watched her swallow. Even that small ordinary action was sexy to him. His skin was too tight for his body and his blood pounded in his groin. Hell yes, he was afraid. If he let her all the way in, and somehow, someway, the ugly shadow of the man who sired him—who hid deep inside where he never wanted to look—was let out, he would destroy the one woman who mattered to him. He was too weak to drive her away. He’d had her now, and the thought of endless days and nights without her was too much to bear.

“Take off your top, Briony.” His voice had gone husky, but carried the ever-present command in it. He couldn’t change that even if he wanted to.

“My top?” She set the glass on the window ledge and grasped the hem of her shirt, arms crossed, pulling up in nearly slow motion so that inch by inch the smooth expanse of her peaches-and-cream skin was revealed. Her ribs, the underside of her breasts, the firm, rounded globes and darker pink nipples. Briony drew the shirt over her head, trying not to moan as the material brushed over her sensitive nipples. She tossed the shirt aside to stand facing him, moonlight spilling over her, casting a silver aura around her.

The shadows caressed her body lovingly. Each breath she drew in lifted her breasts, so that her nipples moved from dark shadow to silver light. If it were possible, his body hardened and thickened more. He didn’t deserve her, but he was going to take her—and keep her. Maybe it wasn’t everyone’s brand of loving, but he’d give her everything he had—everything he was.

Jack moistened his lips and waited until he could breathe. His cock was as hard as a rock, springing out from his body greedily, and his hand circled it, stroked, with the same casual way he wore his nakedness. “Get rid of the pants, baby, we don’t need them tonight—or any other night.”

For one moment, Briony hesitated, reluctance crossing her face. “I haven’t gained a lot of weight, but my stomach is quite a bit bigger.”

Impatience hardened his features. “I know exactly what you look like, Briony, and you’re so damn beautiful to me and so is your belly. Just get rid of them.”

His voice scraped like sandpaper, raw and urgent, eyes darkening with heat. Briony hooked her fingers into the soft pants and shed them, sliding them over her rounded hips and down her legs, where they pooled around her bare feet. She stepped out of them and stood bare—vulnerable—in the soft light of the moon. She couldn’t look away, mesmerized by the way his hand slowly stroked his shaft.