Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)(58)

She nodded, frowning as she slowly began to grate the potatoes, finding a quicker rhythm and sticking with it. “Of course. I like to know what’s coming at me. I’ve got feelers outside the fence as well as inside. No one will get close without us knowing. Why, are you worried we’ll be attacked?”


He shook his head. “No. I’m worried my team will come check on me, and they don’t get to see you looking like this.”


“I thought you liked this apron.”


He paused in the act of breaking an egg into a mixing bowl, his gaze moving over her as she sat there, grating the potatoes for him. Every moment sent her breasts swaying invitingly beneath the stretchy lace. He set the bowl aside, placed a hand on the island surface on either side of her body and leaned in close. So close it forced her body to tip back. To catch herself she had to put her hands back behind her, thrusting her breasts upward. He took the offering, settling his mouth around her right breast, right through the lace.


The apron and this body are for me. Not for my friends. Not for anyone else. You don’t show it to them. You don’t share it with them. It’s mine. You’re mine.


She made a soft sound and caught his head, cradling it to her with one hand as she tipped farther back on the island. He followed her body, leaning over her.


Now you’re just making me hungry for all that honey. I could have breakfast a different way, and then go back to your cooking lesson.


Instantly he felt her body go from soft and pliant to tense. He wanted to groan in sheer frustration. Blood pounded through his veins and filled his cock with need.


Baby, your first time with me is going to be in my bed, not in the kitchen, although we’re going to be spending a lot of time in here later. Lots of island space, the table, counters.


He trailed kisses from her breast up to her chin. Biting gently, he kissed his way to her mouth and caught her lower lip between his teeth. Are you going to sleep in my bed tonight? All night?


There was a small hesitation. His teeth bit down just a little harder. Tugged on her full lower lip. I want to spend hours making you feel good, baby, and then I want to hold you close while we both fall asleep. Are you going to give me that?


I’m really afraid.


I know you are, Cayenne. But you have to trust me sometime. I’ll take care of you, I promise that. Say you’ll spend the night in my bed. I know if you promise you’ll keep your word.


What if I’m so scared I bite you?


Then I’ll spank your pretty little ass very hard. After, I’ll make certain you’re feeling good all over again, but you won’t bite me again because your hot little bottom will remind you not to.


How can you make everything sound hot? In your mind it even feels hot.


Because whatever I do to you is going to be hot and you’re going to like it.


Then it really isn’t a punishment, is it? Or a deterrent.


She had a point, but then he didn’t care. He was going to make everything hot and pleasurable for her. His teeth tugged harder. Say it, Cayenne. Tell me you’ll be in my bed tonight.


Yes. Fine. But if I bite you, that’s on you, not me. You won’t be able to spank me because you’ll be paralyzed and at my mercy. That might be disappointing.


He let go of her lip, his tongue sliding over it to soothe the sting. “Maybe, but sooner or later, I’d come out of it and you’d have to face the music.” He straightened. “And then, baby, I wouldn’t be disappointing you in the least.”


He turned resolutely back to their breakfast. She’d given her word and he knew she wouldn’t break it, no matter how terrified she was. She had too much courage. “I’ve been considering this cooking business, Cayenne. Do you really want to learn?”


“I told you I did.” Her breath was still a little ragged but she sat up and began grating the last potato.


He couldn’t stop looking at her. She looked beautiful with that dazed, shocked look on her face, as if just that little encounter had been a gift from him. He’d made her body sing when he’d put his mark on her breast. She had quite a few of his marks, strawberries covering the soft curves. He wanted them on other, more secret places. He’d taken advantage the night before and put a couple on her inner thigh. He could see them, the little brands that said she was his.


“I didn’t realize men weren’t all that far from the cave days. Around you, baby, I feel pretty primitive.”


She flashed him a smile as she set aside the grater. “I don’t mind you being primitive. I kind of like it.”


She touched her breast, running her fingertip over the wet lace. The sight set him on fire all over again. It was an innocent gesture. She didn’t know how to be a siren, but she was one naturally. He suppressed a groan and forced his mind back to the task at hand. To give himself something to do besides jump her, he took the finished bowl of potatoes, drained the water and replaced it with more cold water.


“Nonny is a great cook. I mean really, really good. Her food isn’t the kind you find in a fancy restaurant, but it’s the best I’ve ever had. I think she pours love into everything she cooks.”


“The bread and soup, or whatever it was, was very good. I ate all of it. In small doses because when I’m not used to something, it can make me sick.”