Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers, #9)(67)
He had known it was a dangerous game he was playing with himself. The likelihood of meeting her had been small, but he’d developed a need to see her every day, even if from a distance. He thought he’d hidden his growing need very well, but obviously Whitney had known. Rose had once asked Kane what his weakness was, and he’d replied honestly that it was her, Rose. Whitney had known all along.
Kane rolled over and linked his hands behind his head. Rose did the same. They lay staring at their toes. Her foot was nearly half the size of his, and he rubbed his along hers, wiggling his toes. She laughed, and he closed his eyes briefly, savoring the sound. He threaded his fingers with hers and brought her hand to his mouth to nibble some more on her.
“I knew you came out into the yard three times a day, the gym once, and the training buildings twice a day. I traded shifts and pulled doubles so I could be where you were. I felt like a damned stalker, but after a few times, I couldn’t help myself.”
She turned her head, her dark, almond eyes wide and a little shocked. “Before Whitney paired us?”
He bit down on her finger and then sucked the sting away. “Way before.”
“Are you certain he didn’t pair us before you ever saw me? Because I was pretty much—to the best of my ability—doing the same thing to you.”
Her voice was a little shy as she admitted it to him, stealing his heart even more. “If the body reaction was anything to go by, I’d say no to that, Rose. Once he did his thing, every time I got close to you, I couldn’t control myself, and I’m pretty damned disciplined in that department.” He looked down at his heavy erection. “I still can’t. Fortunately, I don’t want to.”
Her gaze caressed his thick shaft hungrily. “Then let me see what I can do to help out.”
“I want to be inside you. You’re only making me crave you more.”
Her face lit up, and he inwardly groaned. That had been the wrong thing to say. She sat up, her hair swinging around her face in all directions, sexy as hell. He groaned, knowing he was lost. The woman had a hold on him and was slowly but surely wrapping him around her little finger. He caught her finger and bit it, just to try to articulate without words what he thought about that particular fate.
She laughed, leaned down, and took him deep into the heat of her mouth, without preamble, shocking him with sheer erotic magic. She engulfed him completely, pushing her head down, holding him tight for a moment, her throat working as if she might be swallowing and then, just as abruptly, she slid her lips lovingly back up his shaft, her tongue fluttering as she drew the sensitive mushroom head free. He saw stars.
Rose sat up, quickly straddling his hips and very slowly, inch by slow inch, began to take him inside her body.
“Rose,” his faint protest came out strangled. His hands went to her hips, but he couldn’t find the strength to lift her away from him. She’d engulfed the head of his shaft with sheer fire. He opened his mouth again, but nothing came out but a long-drawn-out groan of pleasure.
“Yeah.” She smirked at him. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”
“Easy, then, sweetheart. We have to go easy.”
She smiled her mysterious smile. “I promise I’ll be easy on you.”
She threw back her head, arched her back, reaching behind her with both hands to steady herself as she continued to lower herself on him. Due to breast-feeding, her breasts were large for her frame, emphasizing her narrow rib cage and slender hips. She looked so wild and sexy he could barely catch his breath, let alone protest.
She did a lazy spiral with her hips, as his shaft penetrated deeper. The movement was exquisite on his cock, a slow gripping like a tight fist, closing around him in slow motion, drawing his shaft deeper into her tight, hot, silken sheath. The feeling was unlike anything he’d imagined, that slow, scorching clasp that took his breath and mind all at the same time. He heard his own heartbeat and reached up to press his hand over her heart so that it beat into his palm.
She wiggled again, an aching circle as her body opened for him, accepting his invasion, taking him farther into her haven. She lifted her hips just a little and dropped down, seating herself to the hilt. His breath exploded from his lungs; the friction sent flames rushing out of control throughout his system. He felt as if his very skin sizzled with electricity.
Eyes narrowed to slits, he watched every movement, as she began an unhurried sensual ride. He loved the undulating motion of her body, graceful and sinuous, her muscles flowing beneath her soft skin. Her eyes were slumberous, her lips parted. He stroked her silken skin, unable to keep his hands off her. She didn’t like her milk to start flowing, thinking it messy; he loved the idea of her carrying and giving birth to his child. The evidence of it only inflamed him more.
Her breasts jutted toward him, swaying gently, the nipples hard and peaked. She looked so beautiful with her skin flushed and her eyes slightly glazed. His shaft swelled even more with the attention. He was deeper than ever, thrusting up through those soft petal folds, meeting resistance with each stroke, and driving to meet her downward rhythm. Her muscles tightened around him, milking, eliciting a strangled groan from him.
“You’re going to make me crazy,” he whispered, feeling on fire.
She had an almost dreamy look on her face, concentrating on each rhythmic stroke as her body rose and fell. He gathered the strength in his body, and as she began her descent he drove up. She cried out, her head tossing.