Deadly Game (GhostWalkers, #5)(115)

“I ache.” Her hand slid down the side of her breast, her belly, brushed her mound. He caught it, licked her fingers, still never taking his gaze from her, and repositioned her arm, but his gaze was hotter, burning with so much lust it added fuel to her already blazing body.

“Don’t move.” His voice was rougher than ever.

She waited there, her body pulsing with arousal, the rough commands and demands he made on her only adding to the building inferno in her body. She could barely breathe as she watched him shed his jeans with deliberate laziness, heightening her urgency even more. He was breathtaking, his body hard and hot, his hand circling his thick shaft, his fist tight as he approached her. He knelt on the bed between her legs.

Mari raised her hips in a silent plea. He shook his head. “You are so bad, woman. Have a little patience.” His flattened palm came down on her buttocks, sending a flare of heat shooting through her womb.

He lowered his head to her stomach. The muscles rippled and clenched. He kissed her belly button, circled it with his tongue. “I love your scent when you’re aroused. I could live on you, I really could.”

“Don’t.” Her fingers twisted in his hair in an attempt to stop him. She had thought he would take her, relieve the terrible craving, but he was already dipping his head, inhaling her scent, his warm breath blowing over her very core. He moved with deliberate slowness, so that the room itself expanded with the building heat, so that her skin was so sensitive just a slight breeze from the window across her nipples sent flames streaking over her, burning her from the inside out. “You can’t.” She was nearly sobbing, pleading. Terrified he would kill her with pleasure.

“I can,” he murmured, his mouth against her damp heat.

He stroked a sensual lick over her swollen clit, and another strangled scream escaped. His mouth closed around the bud, suckling, his arms pinning her thrashing hips, holding her still while his tongue continued to torment her.

Mari couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only feel the streaks of fire burning her alive. His hands were hard on her thighs, holding her open for his pleasure. He made little circles with his tongue, and his teeth rasped over sensitive nerve endings; he licked and sucked, and she went mindless with ecstasy. All the while he controlled her bucking hips, holding her firm against his mouth, taking what he wanted, driving her higher and higher but never allowing her release.

Only when she was pleading helplessly, her small muscles rippling and contracting, did he lift his head, lust etched deep in the lines of his face. He moved over her, trapping her slender body beneath his, the head of his shaft at her entrance, pushing just inside, insisting she accommodate his length and thickness. “Look at me, Mari. Keep looking at me.”

Mari opened her eyes and stared into his. He thrust hard, driving through tight, swollen muscles, burying himself deep, stretching her, filling her, sending her rocketing over the edge with that one stroke. She heard herself scream, but she couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t find her voice, could only flail helplessly beneath him, trying to dig her fingers into the mattress for an anchor.

He rose above her, his face settling into harsh lines as he began to ride her. Each stroke was brutally hard, forcing his shaft through the tight, slick muscles of her sheath, the friction hotter and growing more intense with every stroke.

The terrible hunger never had a chance to ease; it surged high, building all over again, so that she was riding the edge of pain with him. The sensation only seemed to add to the violence of her arousal. His scars dragged over her swollen, silken inner muscles, so that her sheath gripped and clenched around him greedily.

She couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t stop the tightening of her muscles, locking down, clamping, squeezing, and contracting around him as her pleasure began to swell to agonizing proportions. It was terrifying to feel so much, to not know where pain started and pleasure ended. She fought the sensations, fought him, twisting and thrashing, but he never stopped the hard, brutal thrusts taking her higher and higher.

She actually felt his shaft swelling inside of her, growing hotter, stretching her impossibly. She gasped as her body spasmed, the sensations erupting into a wild explosion. Her orgasm ripped through her, ferocious and powerful, as he jerked, his face muscles tightening, his teeth clenching. She felt their hearts beating through his shaft, felt him swell even more, and then his hips bucked and hot jets of his release pounded at her rippling, quaking muscles.

“Yes, baby, that’s it, milk me dry.”

She couldn’t stop. Her body clamped down around his, draining him, greedy for him. A harsh groan escaped his throat as his body pumped into hers. She actually felt faint, the edges around her shadowing and darkening. She clung to reality, refusing to be so weak that she would faint from sheer pleasure. There were tears in her eyes, in her throat. Nothing could be this good. Nothing could ever feel like this again.

Ken lifted his weight onto his elbows, hanging his head while he struggled to breathe. He caught her tears with his tongue and then kissed the corners of her mouth.

Mari touched his face. They were still locked together and he was smiling down at her, something very close to love on his face. She swallowed hard. “I can’t move.”

“You don’t have to move. Just lie there and look beautiful. I’m just getting started.”

Her eyes widened. “Started on what?”