Shadow Game (GhostWalkers, #1)(81)

Ryland forced his hands to move, shaping the dough he was making, spreading it out on the counter in front of him. All the while, pleasure coursed through his body. He kneaded the warm mass, his hands rhythmic, his hips surging forward as her mouth tightened, going from playful to insistent. Her fingers were like the flutter of butterfly wings at times, then strong and demanding. She wrapped her hand around the hard length of him, tight, her hand following the rhythm of his, her mouth so hot flames were roaring in his belly.

A sound escaped his throat. "I think we've found where your creativity lies. You have wonderful form." His entire being, his very existence seemed to be focused in the heat of her silken mouth. He caught at her, stilling every movement before it was too late. "Too much, Lily, I want this time for you, not me." He dragged her off the small stool. Her body slid up his, soft and tempting. Ryland snapped his teeth together, biting off another groan as he lifted her onto the counter. "Sit there, don't do anything, just sit there."

"I was having fun," she complained, sweeping her tousled hair out of her face. The action split the shirt wider open, so that her breasts were fully exposed.

He grinned at her. "I thought you said I was the impatient one." He quickly braided the dough, inserting the mixture from his mixing bowl. "We'll have plenty of time once I get this in the oven." He was already suiting action to words.

When he turned back to her, the look on his face set her heart pounding in anticipation. He moved toward her like a stalking tiger, all play gone, his eyes hot, burning with intensity. Watching him, Lily's heart accelerated. She couldn't have moved if her life depended upon it. He mesmerized her with his heat and hunger.

Ryland reached for her, pushing her legs wide to accommodate his larger body. He dragged her close, then bent her back, sprawling her on the counter. The candlelight played lovingly over the curves and hollows of her body, touching and caressing with flicking light. His hands were gentle as they shaped her, moved over her, following the playful light. "Do you know how beautiful you are to me, Lily?" Casually he dipped his finger in a small jar of strawberry jam and painted a line down the valley between her breasts to her belly button.

"I know I let you do outrageous things to me," she said, her breath in her throat. It was the way he stared at her. As if she were the only woman in the world. As if he were so hungry for her he might not make it through the night without her and he didn't care who knew it.

His hand caressed her moist entrance, long, slow strokes but never quite entering her. "We haven't even started with the outrageous things," he murmured and bent his head, his tongue following the trail of strawberries.

Lily shivered with pleasure, the cool air teasing her nipples into taut, responsive peaks. The feel of his tongue lapping over her skin, leisurely, casually, as if he had all the time in the world to enjoy her body, added to the anticipation. Her hips moved restlessly in invitation. He responded by pushing two fingers deep with tantalizing slowness.

She gasped as his teeth scraped her nipple, as his mouth closed over her breast, the sensation nearly lifting her off the counter. Then he was following the strawberries across her stomach, swirling around her belly button, dipping his head lower to catch the taste in her tight curls.

"You're killing me." Her hands found his hair, tangling deep into the curls.

He breathed fire between her legs. Pushed his fingers deeper, lifting his head so he could watch the way her eyes clouded. It heightened his own pleasure to see her response to him. As he withdrew, she pushed back, riding his hand, grinding deeper, seeking relief.

Her head was thrown back, her back arched, her breasts jutting temptingly as she moved, enticing him to fill her completely. He merely smiled, keeping the pace slow, blowing warm air against her heated mound. Before she could think, could reason, he withdrew his fingers entirely and replaced them with his tongue, stabbing deep.

She made a sound, somewhere between a scream and a moan, and her fingers tightened in his hair, dragging him closer. Her body erupted into quake after quake. Thinking she had relief, Lily took a breath only to be driven straight up into the clouds a second time as he caught her thighs firmly, holding her open to his seductive exploring.

He had wanted her like this, sprawled out in front of him, open to him, her taste and cries driving him wild. He had dreamt of it so many times, coming awake with a hard, painful arousal and no Lily to give him relief. He indulged himself, taking his time, taking her to the point of release only to stop, to ease back while she squirmed and pleaded. She was hot, a fiery inferno, and he knew what it would be like when he buried himself deep inside her. His hands moved over her body, exploring every secret hollow, every shadow, staking his claim, letting her know she belonged to him. The way he wanted to belong to her. All the while his mouth and fingers were taking her to the edge.

Lily was nearly sobbing with need. "Please, Ryland, I can't take any more." She meant it too. Her body was going up in flames and she was drowning, drowning in sensation.

"Yes, you can, Lily," he said softly, lifting his head, sucking the taste of her from his fingers, "you're going to take all of me deep inside you where I belong. I want you to know what no other man will ever do for you. I'm going to know you so intimately you're never going to think of leaving me."

He sounded so arrogant she smiled. She'd never thought of another man since the moment she'd laid eyes on him. And she certainly had never entertained the notion of doing any of the things she did with him, with some other man. "Stop talking and let's have some action," she pleaded.