Deadly Game (GhostWalkers, #5)(117)

Ken made love to her, taking his time, with the water spraying down on them, doing his best to be as gentle as he could as he held her in his arms. It didn’t seem possible to have her with him in his home, that life could really be so good. In the end, no matter how he tried, the only way for him to be stimulated enough to gain relief was rough penetration. He heard the sound of their flesh meeting, like the slap of a hand, his body pounding into hers when she was already sore from a long night of his demands.

His fingers dug into her hips, taking her to the floor where there was no give, where the penetration was deep and her tight sheath gripped him the way he needed. The rougher he was, the more swollen and tight she became and the more pleasure he felt. He looked down at her, the water pouring over them, his fingerprints standing out on her soft skin, and he hated his body, hated who he was.

She wanted him, her body responded to everything he gave her, pushing her ability to accept pleasure and pain mingled together in order to accommodate his lusts, but how could she ever love him when he was so depraved and driven? When a monster lurked inside of him, one she’d caught glimpses of. Mari was not a stupid woman, and she had lived her entire lifetime with violence. She knew he was capable of making her life hell, and in spite of loving her with his body—worshiping her—he could feel her moving away from him. He turned up toward the spray, letting it pour over his face and wash away the burn of tears.

Mari said nothing as he helped her from the floor, but he noticed she looked as if she had been crying too. She pressed a kiss to his chest and stepped out of the shower to dry off. Ken stayed for a longer time, wishing the water could make him clean again. He watched it run into the drain and wished the small stream could take his sins with it.

Briony waited in the kitchen, pacing restlessly in front of Jack. He swung around as Mari and Ken entered, frowning a little in reprimand.

About damn time. She’s going to have a nervous breakdown.

Ken flicked his brother a quick warning glance. So is Mari. She’s terrified. Don’t say anything to upset her.

Jack flashed him a small grin. Papa bear is getting all growly over his little cub. All the same he positioned his body so he could protect Briony should there be need.

Ken kept his hand on the nape of Mari’s neck, wanting to give her support. He could feel the tremors running through her slender body. The woman had enough courage for ten people, but facing her twin for the first time in years was traumatic.

“Briony,” Ken said softly. “Jack and I promised you we’d bring your sister to you and we have. This is Marigold—Mari.”

Briony’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry. I can’t stop crying. I’m sure it’s the pregnancy. I’m so happy you’ve come at last.”

Mari simply stared at her, drank her in, could barely believe they were in the same room. “Look at you. You look so happy.”

“I am happy.” Briony wiped at the flowing tears. “Whitney did something to my memory, and I couldn’t think about my past without feeling pain. I couldn’t remember anything, but as soon as I did, I tried to find you.” She took two steps closer but stopped again, afraid of rejection.

Mari took a step toward her. “Whitney did that to anyone leaving the compound. He liked to tell me he knew where you were, and what he could do to you if I didn’t cooperate.”

Briony ducked her head. “I’m sorry. It must have been terrible for you.”

“No,” Mari said quickly. “It wasn’t. Not really.” She took another step toward her sister. “I didn’t know any other way of life, and as a child, it was rather exciting. I missed you every single day.”

A fresh flood of tears turned Briony’s face bright red. Jack started across the room, but Mari got there first. She gathered her sister into her arms and held her. Jack stilled, halfway to his wife, his throat working convulsively. If there was one thing he couldn’t take, it was Briony’s tears.

Ken handed him a cup of coffee, and they sat at the kitchen table while their women went off together, arms around each other, into the great room.

Jack scrubbed his hand over his face. “Briony’s killing me with her tears. I’m hoping Mari can get her to stop.”

Ken flashed him a small grin. “You’re looking a little pale, bro. What are you going to do when she goes into labor?”

“I’m contemplating shooting myself.” He tapped the table restlessly. “What about you? How are things going?”

The grin faded, and for a moment Jack glimpsed pain sliding into the shadows in Ken’s eyes. “She isn’t going to stay.”

“You sure?”

“Why would she? She’s got everything going for her. I’m not exactly normal. And unlike Briony, she isn’t going to be accepting of me telling her what to do all time.”

Jack nearly snorted coffee through his nose. “Is that what you think? Briony pretty much tells me how it’s going to be, except maybe in the bedroom, and even then, she likes what I do to her or she wouldn’t be doing it. Don’t kid yourself, bro, my woman makes up the rules and yours will too.”

“Maybe.” Ken couldn’t very well tell his brother just what it took to feel with his skin sliced to pieces—although maybe Jack already had guessed. More than once he’d repaired damage when Ken had been unable to feel the blade of a saw slicing through his hand until it was too late. He didn’t want to go there and see pity in Jack’s eyes. “You hear anything about the senator?”