Predatory Game (GhostWalkers, #6)(92)

His hand skimmed up her inner thigh, moved higher to caress hot, moist velvet. Saber moaned again, needing, wanting, a sudden frenzy of hunger she couldn’t control. Jess lifted his head, dark eyes burning black. He caught the front of her shirt and as another bolt of lightning ripped across the sky, he jerked brutally, parting the material so that the light exposed her creamy rain-wet skin. The shirt fell unnoticed, a rag in a pool of water at her feet.

Jess caught the nape of her neck, dragged her to him, fusing their mouths together, dominating, barbaric, taking, demanding her compliance, her submission. His body was burning, a painful unrelenting arousal. Saber’s soft little throaty cries, her wandering hands, and the sweet taste of her did nothing to appease the pain—it only fueled the fire already burning out of control in him.

She tore her mouth from his, her hands pushing aside his robe, exposing the magnificence of his hard, masculine body. She knelt, wrapping her arms around his waist, her lips on his skin, tasting rain, moving sensuously over every defined muscle, exploring, taunting, deliberately feeding the desperate urgency she could sense in him.

Jess cried out hoarsely, caught two fistfuls of her silky hair, bunching the mass in his large hands, his body trembling, fighting for control. He jerked her head back. In the bright streak of lightning they stared into each other’s souls.

“I’ll never let you go,” he warned softly, implacably. “Be certain, Saber, if you come to me like this, you’re mine. If you do this, you’re mine.” Because she was going to destroy him. Utterly destroy him with her mouth and body. She was already taking him to a place he couldn’t come back from.

“I have to have you, Jesse.” The admission was stark and raw, and she dropped to her knees in the wet grass as he scooted his hips forward, bringing some relief to his aching body.

Her entire body was going wild with need, her control nearly gone. She wanted it gone. She wanted this—Jess—his body needing hers, burning for hers. She craved the dark possessive lust building in his eyes and the way his body responded with such heat, growing thick and long and hard with his need. She didn’t care about his friends, or what they thought, only Jess and the way he looked at her.

She was hungry for the taste of him. She needed to feel the hard length of him filling her mouth, watch his eyes go opaque and glaze over, hear his breath go ragged and see his chest rise and fall, hear his voice turn hoarse with pleasure. She cupped his tight sac in her hands, ran her fingers in a caress over his hard shaft. Watching his face, she leaned forward and ran her tongue over the mushroom head, tasting sex and lust and love mingled together.

His cock jerked. “Damn it, Saber. We could both be in trouble.”

She wanted to be in trouble. She wanted him wild and rough. Still keeping her gaze locked with his, she leaned into him with a long slow lick, curling her tongue under the base of the flared head.

His eyes went hot and his fingers bunched in her hair, forcing her mouth toward him. A muscle ticked in his jaw as she blew warm air over him. She opened her mouth to accept the demands of his body, her tongue moistening her lips in anticipation. He made a sound somewhere between a growl and a groan and dragged her head to him.

Saber took him in, inch by slow inch, deliberately prolonging his agony, her gaze locked with his as she drew his thick shaft into the silken heat of her mouth. He tasted of sizzling passion, rich and male, and she needed more. She watched him as he drew in harsh breaths, as he jerked at the robe, shoving it down until it bunched behind him. All the while his hips thrust in an almost helpless rhythm.

She could feel him pulsing against her tongue, filling her mouth, stretching her lips. The power was incredible—that she could do this to him, this sexy, virile man, that he could trust her and want her so that he couldn’t take his eyes from the sight of her, so that groans rumbled in his chest and his body shuddered with pleasure.

She licked at the underside of the broad head, and then sucked hard. His thrusts became more urgent, deeper, the hands in her hair controlling. She drove out his control, so that his hands were rough in her hair, tugging at her scalp, sending delicious little currents of electricity down her breasts to her groin. Her womb clenched every time he thrust deeper, each time a groan escaped. She learned to keep rubbing her tongue on the sensitive spot on the underside at the head of his shaft. The more she did, the more she swallowed him and sucked, the more the reward. His breath hitched in his lungs and his cock jerked and throbbed in anticipation.

“You’ve got to stop, baby.” He used her own hair to pull her away from him. “If you don’t, we’re going to have a major problem.”

She took one last satisfying swipe with her tongue. She loved the look on his face, the raw pleasure, the stark desire. He tugged her to her feet, his hands gripping her hips, urging her to climb on him.

All around them the storm raged out of control. The rain beat down. Thunder crashed and occasional flashes of lightning lit up the sky. The series of storms was just getting started, bringing in winter with a vengeance, but it did nothing to cool the raging heat between them.

Her body slid enticingly over his, soft skin against the hard muscles of his thighs as she wedged her knees on either side of his hips. Deliberately, her gaze locked with his, she lifted her body above his. “I really do love you, Jesse. So much I don’t know what to do with it,” she whispered.

He loved her with everything in him. Everything that he was. “Don’t cry, baby, you’re still crying.”