Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers, #9)(65)
“What did Eric say about making love?”
Her hands came up to find his hair, smoothing her fingers through the strands. “I’ve stopped bleeding and I feel healed. It’s been several weeks, Kane.”
“What did Eric say?” he repeated.
She scowled at him. “As if I’d ask his permission for something like that.” She blushed when he kept looking at her.
“I don’t want to take chances.”
“It’s my body. I know it better than he does,” she said stubbornly and pushed the shirt completely off her arms. “In any case, you’re more apt to have a problem than I am.”
He took that as a challenge, kissing his way back up to her breasts where he undid her nursing bra. He licked at her nipples until he had her squirming.
“You’re going to get my milk flowing,” she cautioned.
“That’s all right,” he murmured, losing himself in the sweet exploration of her body. “What’s wrong with that?”
“It will be messy. I’m going to drip all over us.”
“Sex is messy, honey. It’s supposed to be hot and sweaty and feel so damn good you just don’t care.” He kissed his way back down her tummy. Her skin was so hot and soft. The memories of her haunted him day and night. He remembered the way she felt, the way her body fit so perfectly to his.
He took his time, his hands and mouth mapping her body leisurely and imprinting it in his mind all over again. He wanted to know every place that sent her squirming, her hips bucking, her mouth gasping. He loved her breathless moans and the way she was so responsive to his touch.
“It’s been too long, Rose,” he whispered against her soft belly. He could tell that her body, so long fit and strong, was already firming up. He kissed all the way down to the vee at the junction of her legs.
“Kane.”
The little gasp was a plea or a protest. He doubted if she knew which. He swirled his tongue, drawing patterns along her sensitive tummy while his hands eased her thighs apart, allowing him to settle more firmly between her legs. Her thighs were firm and so slender it made his heart pound. He was a big man, and she was very small, built like many of the Asian women he’d seen. She seemed fragile, and with his enormous strength and big hands, he was a little afraid he might hurt her.
His body remembered how tight she’d been surrounding him, strangling him, clamping down on him like a hot, velvet vise. He knew his cock leaked in anticipation, desperate to find that paradise again, but he was determined to do the right thing by her. He wanted to make absolute certain that he wouldn’t harm her or hurt her if they made love.
He lowered his head, closing his eyes as her feminine scent enveloped him. There was rapture in the fragrance that was uniquely Rose. He caught her small bottom with one hand and lifted her hips as he bent to her. He felt the satisfying shiver going through her body even before he blew warm air across her mound.
He doubted if she would believe that he was already far in love with her, a complete goner—that he had been before he’d allowed Whitney to pair them, but he could show her. With his body raging at him and his mind filled with an all-consuming love for her, he tasted her. Her body shuddered and bucked with just that small attention—and he was damn good at details. He took his time, lavishing attention on her with his mouth and tongue. His fingers stroked deep into her and withdrew.
He couldn’t help but watch the helpless pleasure glazing her eyes. He loved that look. He loved that he could make her as mindless as she could him. He had never thought that seeing to a woman’s pleasure could give him back so much. He felt every shudder, heard every moan and whimper as music. Her hips bucked in his hand, her body writhed. Hot nectar flowed, and he devoured her intimately, driving her up time after time until she pleaded and demanded and all but pulled his hair out.
He didn’t want to stop. She made him hungry for more with her desperate moans and pleas. He hadn’t known how powerful and satisfied a man could feel when his woman tossed mindlessly beneath him, gasping and begging for release. He sent her tumbling over the edge when he heard the panic creeping in. Even as her orgasm tore through her body, he couldn’t help stroking her gently with his tongue just to share the experience with her.
His body was on fire, and he swore a jackhammer was in the process of drilling through the middle of his skull. His blood thundered in his ears and hammered through his cock. The sensation in his groin had gone from a dull ache to a savage pounding, but strangely, he found himself very satisfied.
Rose lay under Kane, his larger body sprawled over hers. Her body trembled and shuddered, the sensations almost more than she could take. Kane could do that to her, make her think of her body as belonging to him. He seemed to know exactly the places to stroke, or bite, or lave with his tongue for maximum results. She stroked his thick hair and looked into his eyes. She could see adoration there—more even—love. It humbled her, shocked her. She could barely make herself believe that a man like Kane could feel that way about her.
She knew nothing of life outside the military compound where she’d been raised, and she’d never known love. She was afraid to recognize it in Kane’s eyes, but it was hard to miss the emotion when he touched her so tenderly. It was difficult to miss it in the way he looked at her. And it was impossible to miss the fact that there was more than lust in the way he made love to her. This moment had been all hers.