Murder Game (GhostWalkers, #7)(92)

“But you . . .”

“Never doubt that I want you every minute of every day. Night and day. I’m always hungry for you.” He tossed his wet shirt aside. “If I had my way, you’d just walk around naked waiting for me to bury myself in you.” He peeled the wet jeans down the columns of his thighs and kicked them way, and his shaft sprang out, hard and thick and so ready for her he was already leaking little pearl droplets from the broad, flared head.

“Kadan.” His name came out in a breathy little moan that was half fear, half desire. She backed up at his sudden aggression, but he just followed her, stalking her across the room until the wall was against her back and she had nowhere to go. She drew in a deep, shuddering breath and held up one hand.

He ignored it and caught her up, his strength enormous, lifting her naked body and taking her back to the bed, uncaring that they both were wet and soaking the sheets as he positioned her at the edge of the mattress, her legs over his shoulders so that she was entirely open to him.

“Don’t tell me I don’t want you.” This time he growled it, the sound rumbling in his throat. “I f*cking want you all the time. Just like this. You understand me? Just like this.”

There were no kisses, no foreplay; he buried himself deep, hard, and fast, pushing through the tight folds like a battering ram taking him home. He said with his body everything he couldn’t say aloud. Every stroke was hard and deep, his hips frantic, plunging into her over and over, driving her up fast, taking her breath, forcing her higher and higher as he claimed her, as he made her his.

He let himself lose control, wild with primitive need, the desire to show her the truth. This was where he belonged, in her. That she could question his desire for her was shocking to him, and he took her with an animalistic pleasure, riding her with heat until it felt like flames were licking up his legs and over his buttocks and into his groin. She was hot and tight and felt like a silken fist gripping him, squeezing and strangling until he thought his head might explode from the sheer pleasure.

When she was gasping and thrashing beneath him, he leaned forward, applying more pressure to her hard, sensitive bud, more intense friction as he pistoned into her. He kept bending until his mouth found her nipple. He flicked his tongue twice and then bit down gently. She screamed, her body imploding around his, melting and gripping his with fierce need until he emptied himself into her, filling her with hot seed, collapsing over the top of her, a little shocked at the fury of his body taking hers when he thought of her as fragile.

He could feel the rippling of her body, the aftershocks shaking her as he moved in more gentle strokes, hating leaving the haven of her body. He waited until he could breathe again before he looked at her, half-expecting her to be angry with him, but she cradled his head, her hands in his hair, stroking caresses over him. Accepting him. Accepting his dominant nature. Just accepting him, and that was more humbling, more frightening than all the guns in the world aimed at him.

“I have to touch you.” His admission came out rough. A demand instead of the way he’d wanted it to sound. He wanted to share with her his own weakness, give her something of himself that mattered. He let his breath out and tried again. “I need to touch you.”

“I love when you touch me, Kadan.” She pushed back his hair, her touch gentle.

Kadan shook his head, straightening, stepping back. “No. I don’t mean now. I mean all the time. I need the contact with you.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “Damn it. This isn’t coming out the way I want it to.”

Tansy slowly lowered her feet to the floor and sat up. “Tell me.” She threw back the wealth of long hair over one shoulder in a sexy slide.

Her breasts drew his immediate attention, jutting out at him invitingly. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning down to suckle for a moment. The craving was so strong it shook him. He stepped back, shaking his head, wanting her to understand.

“I need my hands on you. I can’t tell you why, only that I have to know you’re all right with me touching you anytime, anywhere. In my head, I have to know you’re going to accept me, want me touching you or to have my mouth on you or your mouth on me.” His hand slipped over his shaft, already semi-hard. “That you’re going to want me inside of you, a hundred times a day. The thought is going to be there that if I really needed to, you would find a way with me no matter what’s going on around us.”

“I’m not certain why you think that’s such a bad thing, Kadan.”

His eyes darkened more. “You think you need me more than I need you. You think I’m stronger and that I’ll grow tired of your dependence. I’m in your head. I know what you’re thinking, but you aren’t really seeing me, Tansy. I want you to see me.” He let his breath out in a little rush. “You’re home for me. You and your body. You’re home.”

“All right.” She lifted her gaze to his, to make sure he knew she meant it. “I’m absolutely all right with you touching me. I love your hands on me. I especially love your mouth on me, and if you want to be inside me, say the word and I’m there. Just try not to throw me on the kitchen table in front of everyone and we’ll be fine.”

The knotted muscles in Kadan’s stomach unraveled and he could breathe freely again. He hadn’t scared the hell out of her, but then, Tansy didn’t scare all that easy. She stood up to killers and she willingly faced hell and madness to track murderers. She wasn’t a shrinking violet, and if any woman could handle his needs, he was betting his heart it would be Tansy.