Shadow Game (GhostWalkers, #1)(80)

"I was a wonderful little boy, Lily," he told her. "Just as our son will be."

Her eyebrow shot up. "Are we having a son?"

"At least one. And a couple of daughters too." He moved past her, slid his hand down her flat belly, caressing, stroking, his fingertips teasing the black curls at the junction of her legs before he moved on to the sink. "Lily! Look at this. You have bread dough here."

A shiver of excitement went through her. Her body clenched in reaction to his touch. "Rosa often leaves bread dough for me because I love fresh bread. I do manage to put it in the oven all by myself."

He paused in his movements to look skeptically at her.

Lily shrugged. "All right, fine, she wrote the instructions down and I keep them in the drawer right by the oven." She moved closer, wanting his touch again. "You want children someday?" The thought of having his child growing inside of her moved her. She placed her palm over her stomach, unconsciously guarding an unborn baby.

"Not someday," he corrected; "soon. I'm not getting any younger." He whisked the small tea towel off the rising dough. "Cinnamon rolls sound good, what do you think?" He reached over to turn the oven on preheat.

"With me? You want to have children with me, Ryland?"

He made a rude noise as he began combining ingredients in a bowl. "Try to follow along, honey, you have a high IQ. I know you can do it if you try."

Lily rubbed the pad of her thumb across her lower lip. "You must have been a monstrous child, Ryland. You must have been in trouble all the time." She made her way to the other side of the counter, watching him intently, a daring idea forming in her head. He was so sure of himself. And doing his best to ignore her while he worked.

She wandered around the counter to stand beside him.

Ryland looked up again. "I'm working here, and the candlelight across your breast is distracting. Go stand somewhere in the shadows."

Lily shook her head. "I think you could use some assistance." She was looking at his hands working the bread dough, not at him, but her voice had a husky, sensual rasp to it, exciting him, arousing him instantly.

Dark heat spiraled through him, robbed him of breath. He didn't dare speak, not wanting to break the sexual spell Lily was weaving. He began to whip ingredients together in a small mixing bowl, his movements sure and practiced.

Lily tugged at the roped muscles along his legs, forcing him to step back away from the counter. She pulled out a small shelf directly in front of him, a small board that had been used as a stepping stool when she was a child.

The air slammed out of his lungs. "I can't imagine how you're going to help me," he ventured, his voice so hoarse he barely recognized it.

"I used to stand on this when I was a little girl and wanted to get into the cupboards." She swung the board all the way out so he could see the legs unfolded on it. "I thought I'd just sit right here and watch you work. You don't mind, do you?"

"Sit." He gave the command gruffly. The one word was all he could manage.

Lily sank down slowly onto the small stool, seating herself directly facing him. His naked body was close and hot and hard. "I knew it would be the perfect height. You just work and let me see what I can do to keep you relaxed."

She had dreamt of this. Wanted this. It was too tempting to resist. His thighs were strong columns, and Lily brushed them carefully with her fingertips. He was already thicker, harder, anxious for the silken heat of her mouth. Her hands found his buttocks, stroked, urged him a step closer. "Are you certain I won't be distracting you?" Deliberately she prolonged the moment, stretching it out, her warm breath flowing over the thick, velvety, very engorged head. Before he could answer, her tongue danced in a single caress. "Because I wouldn't want to distract you. Cinnamon rolls sound very good. Warm and frosted and spicy."

Ryland's breath shot out of his lungs. "Lily." It was a command. Nothing less.

She laughed softly. "You have no patience, do you?" She wanted to drive him crazy, to feel powerful and in control, yet she had little experience and now that she'd insisted, she was afraid of disappointing him.

"I can read your thoughts, honey," he said tenderly. He bunched her hair in his hand, crushing the strands in his palms. "Everything you do pleases me. When we're both like this, it's so intense between us, it's easy enough to pick up what we want. Open your mind to me, the way you open your body for me. It's all there in my head, every erotic fantasy I've ever had about you. And every single one you've had about me."

"You have some interesting ideas," she admitted.

"So do you," he pointed out.

Lily leaned forward and took him into her mouth, hot and moist and tight, sucking gently, her tongue teasing and dancing all over so that the pleasure shot up his body and exploded like a volcano in his gut. A shudder ran through him as her mouth tightened and her tongue played, her hands urging his hips to find her rhythm. For a moment his mind wanted to shatter with the pulsing pleasure ripping through him.

Candlelight played over her face. She was so beautiful with her silky hair and the dark passion in her eyes. His hands stilled as he watched himself gliding in and out of her mouth, wanting the sight etched in his brain for all time.

This was the way it was supposed to be. Lily loving him, teasing him. Ryland giving her the same back. Their world. His fantasy. And he was determined to make every fantasy their reality. Lily needed him in her perfect world. She needed passion and love and to be shaken up now and again.