Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)(82)

Trap was acutely aware of everything about her. Her taste. Her scent. The fullness of her lips. Soft yet firm. Her hot mouth. Her body moving against his, all those lush curves, yet so small and delicate. Her body was pure silk and felt like heaven against his. His hands were huge on her, stroking down her breasts to her belly, fingers unerringly finding the hourglass and then dipping lower to press into her tight welcoming entrance that was even hotter than her mouth.


Cayenne moved her body subtly, breaking the kiss, sliding her hand over the heavy muscles of his chest and then down to his defined belly. She loved the way his body was so hard, all that steel under his skin. Every muscle defined and rippling at her touch. Trap radiated hunger – for her. She had never felt more wanted or more powerful than she did at that moment.


She wasn’t an insect to be pinned to an exam table, she was a desirable woman. No. More. She was Trap’s woman. She loved being his woman. It was thrilling, exhilarating and scary all rolled into one, but she believed him when he said he would have her back and take care of her. She didn’t need taking care of, but she loved that he wanted to. She loved that he knew she would want to take just as good care of him. She wanted to take care of him right then, because she was in his mind and once he got started, he wasn’t going to give her this moment, and she needed it.


She had enjoyed the night before and giving him this would take a little time, allowing her nerves to steady. She wanted this, to belong fully to him, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous. He was very well proportioned and that meant that he was big. He didn’t look as if he could possibly fit inside her. That terrified her, because if she couldn’t handle him, she would lose him.


For the last four months, ever since she’d first laid eyes on him, there in her cell when all hope had been lost, she had wanted him. Her voice was a weapon, yet it didn’t work on him. For some reason, she loved that it didn’t – that he could resist her commands and could turn the tables on her. She knew she could paralyze him with a bite, or wrap him in her silk if necessary, so she was safe enough, but still, she liked the knowledge that he was her equal in every way.


She kissed his chin and then his throat. He lay back, allowing her to take the lead. She loved that too. The fancy veils hanging around the bed added to her feeling of safety, creating a warm, sensuous cocoon for the two of them. She loved her webs, the masterpieces she created. She’d been exhausted, but the wide-open space had made her feel vulnerable. Given the chance, knowing she would wake up to Trap, she had put effort into making the intricate webs especially beautiful – and she’d succeeded.


She kissed her way down his chest. She hadn’t been able to touch that part of him the night before due to the silken ropes she’d tied him down with. Now, she took her time, memorizing every inch of him with her mouth, tongue and fingertips. She traced each muscle with her tongue, lapping at his skin. He tasted masculine. Perfect. He felt masculine. That was even more perfect.


Her tongue teased at his hard, flat nipples. She suckled gently and then, when his breath hitched, a little harder. She flicked with her finger and brushed with her thumb, watching his face to see his reaction.


Baby, I’m burning up here. You want this, you need to get to it.


She smiled against his belly as she licked down the path of his ribs to that particularly hard area. She loved the way his muscles rippled under her touch. She threw one leg over his thighs, straddling him. Holding him in place while she took her time exploring.


So impatient.


He made a single sound. A growl. It seemed to rumble up from his chest and sounded like a large menacing cat warning it was about to pounce on prey and tear it apart. She took the warning for what it was. Her man was definitely getting impatient and he wasn’t going to wait much longer. She loved that. Loved that he wanted her so much. Still, she was fairly certain, she could slow him down by giving him something else to think about.


She used her hands, now warm from his skin, to slide up his inner thighs, to cup the heavy velvet sac, rolling gently, all the while watching his face. She loved watching his eyes darken and the way the lines in his face deepened with desire – with need and hunger. She loved knowing she could do that to him even though she hadn’t a clue what she was doing.


She had studied every book online she could find once the Internet was up and running again in Trap’s home. He’d left one computer unprotected, for her to use, so she’d put it to good use, trying to learn as much about the outside world and, after seeing him at night, as much about sex as she could.


She put that knowledge to use, all the while watching his eyes, those blue flames burning hot behind the ice. Her fingers stroked and caressed. She bent her head, allowing her hair to slide over his bare thighs as she kissed the velvet softness and then used her tongue and mouth on him. His breath left his lungs in a gasping rush. His hips moved restlessly and one hand crept down to fist in her hair. All that told her she was doing something right.


She licked up his shaft, slid her tongue just beneath the crown while her thumb brushed over the soft, flared head, smearing those precious pearly drops. His breath hissed out of him.


Cayenne. The warning came through in a gruff, unmistakable command.


She smiled up at him, her gaze on his as she took him into her mouth. He was hot. Delicious. Thick and very, very hard. She loved the texture of him. The taste of him. She used her mouth, suckling hard and then butterflying her tongue before taking him deeper and then withdrawing. She worked at drawing liquid, at taking more of him into her mouth. It wasn’t easy. He was thick, but she was determined. She enjoyed what she was doing and more, she loved what it was doing to him.