Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers, #9)(98)
She leaned into him, wanting shelter in his arms, in the strength of his body. He was like an enormous oak tree, solid and unyielding, a sentinel she could always count on. “You were uneasy around him,” Rose said. “That’s one of the reasons I had trouble with him. I didn’t like that he was so interested in DNA. He was always so obsessive about taking Sebastian’s blood, even after I explained my worries. But had you trusted him implicitly, I might have acted differently.”
When he framed her face with his large hands and her eyes met his, her heart nearly exploded with love for him. There was no censure there, only respect and admiration. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I don’t deserve you to feel like that about me, Kane. Not now. I can’t forgive myself for nearly losing Sebastian. If I’d been better with everyone . . .”
He stopped her with his mouth, that sinful, tempting mouth that she often fantasized about. The moment his lips, so cool and firm, settled over hers, her heart shifted, and her stomach did a long, slow somersault. Her heart stuttered. His body heat warmed her. The steely strength of his arms caging her made her feel safe—as if she had truly found a home. The taste of him drove her wild.
Her eyes burned and her throat clogged with tears, even as her body went into familiar meltdown. She nearly dropped the blanket as she kissed him back, sliding her arms around his neck, clinging tightly to him. She gave herself to him, to the white-hot heat rushing through her veins in a fever of need, allowing the sensation to drive away guilt and fear and replace it with—him—with Kane.
She fed on him, on the rising tide of feeling, so she didn’t have to think, didn’t have to relive those terrible moments when she knew she’d failed to protect their child, and Whitney had succeeded in taking him. It took a few moments before her head cleared enough to realize he was swaying a little. Abruptly she pulled away from him to look up at his face. So strong—even powerful. She could see what had always attracted her to him, that intense integrity, the loyalty and honor that was stamped so plainly into that strong man’s face. He was no boy; maybe he’d never been one. He was like her little Sebastian, thrown into a world of violence, scrounging on the streets to survive. Right now, he looked a little gray.
“Kane. Sit.”
He gave her a crooked smile that nearly took her heart right from her body. “You’re so cute when you give me orders.”
She frowned at him. “No one’s ever called me cute before.” She tugged at his hand. “I’m feeling better. A shower will put me right, but you’re exhausted.”
Of course he was. He hadn’t been able to stand up properly only a week earlier. He couldn’t do a full workout, yet he’d run through the streets, dove into the ocean, and fought the enemy underwater in cold water while the waves pounded him—to save her.
Rose put one hand on his chest and pushed hard. Kane felt the steady pressure and was surprised, as always, that such a small frame could be so strong. Still, she wouldn’t have rocked him, even though he was exhausted, but she looked so beautiful and so determined he couldn’t stop himself from giving in to her. That look of sheer grit replaced the guilt in her eyes, and he’d take that any day over her feeling guilty over something she had no control over.
“Stay right there and rest. When I get out of the shower I’ll make tea.”
His heart tripped, and without thinking his hand snaked out to snag her wrist as she turned away from him. He tugged. The blanket slipped before she could stop it, and she nearly lost her balance. He caught her around the waist with both hands and lifted her onto his lap, facing him, so that she settled over his hips, straddling him. He could feel her heat burning through the material of his jeans, pressed tight right over his eager cock.
She wiggled, and his entire body seemed to burst into flames. He ran his hands possessively down her back. No matter how many times he held her, she seemed so fragile to him, such a miracle. Her skin, even now, smelling of the sea, was soft over all those exquisitely firm muscles.
“Let me take a shower, Kane,” she whispered, nuzzling into his neck, her arms creeping around his neck, her body settling into his.
The blood pounded through his veins, thundered through his heart, and roared in his ears, all in reaction to the realization that there was no resistance in Rose. The moment he touched her, her body fit into his, made for him. She gave herself to him wholly, surrendering everything to him. His heart contracted. He’d never thought to have a woman for his own and certainly not a woman like Rose who wanted him with the same encompassing fever that he had for her.
“I’m salty and fishy.”
He laughed. This could have been the worst day of his life, but here he was, his son sleeping peacefully in the other room, his woman naked and compliant in his arms. He bit that sweet spot between her neck and shoulder and felt her shudder in need.
“I don’t give a damn how you smell, baby,” he assured her. “I just need to get these jeans open. Shift just a little.” He dropped his hands to the buttons, lifting his hips just enough to slip the offensive material down his hips.
The relief was tremendous. The moment he sprang free, his eager cock encountered her scorching, damp heat. “You’re heaven for me, Rose. My sanctuary.”
Hands on her waist, he lifted her, positioning her body over him, until just the broad, flared head was pushing inside the heat of her body. The fact that she was already damp, already just as eager for him, was amazing to him. Very slowly he lowered her body over his. Heat gripped him, surrounding him, all that pulsing energy. He drove through the soft, hot folds, sweet fire engulfing him. She threw back her head, arching her back, her throat working convulsively as her breasts pushed against his chest. Her nipples felt like two pinpoints of flames, sending a streak of fire straight to his groin.