Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)(83)

Don’t look away.


She loved the sound of his voice. Low. Commanding. Edged with hunger. So erotic she was burning between her legs. She kept her eyes on his as she worked his cock with her mouth and tongue. His hips moved. Bucked. Drove him deeper. She knew her eyes went wide with shock, but she took him deeper and felt the answering rush of liquid heat between her legs.


Use your hands on my balls and my inner thighs.


Immediately she complied with her left hand, sliding it between his legs, massaging and kneading, but removing her right hand from the base of his cock was a little more difficult. That gave him the power. His hips stilled. His eyes went dark blue. Electric. She wanted to give him that. She did. Very slowly she pried each finger loose, one by one, forcing her hand to slide down to caress his very tight sac.


That’s my girl. Beautiful, Cayenne. Feel what you’re doing to me. Come into my mind. Feel this, how good it is.


His hips moved again, thrusting just a little deeper and then retreating before she could panic. Her lips stretched wide around him. She flattened her tongue to use it when she could and sucked hard when she was able. It was hot. Erotic. A little scary, but his gaze never wavered from hers and kept her from panicking.


She pushed further into his mind and instantly felt the heat rush through her body like a fireball. Her mouth massaged his cock, the roof, her tongue, and each time he pushed deeper toward her throat, she felt the almost convulsive ecstasy shooting through his body. That empowered her even more.


I love giving this to you, she admitted.


His cock swelled, stretching her mouth more, went deeper until she was nearly swallowing him. He felt so hard and hot. So erotic. She suckled and let him thrust, retreat, his hips still gentle, the movements controlled, but she could tell that control was slipping. She wanted that. She wanted to take him beyond his control.


You’re done. My turn.


She wasn’t done. She hadn’t brought him to the point of no return. Her lips tightened around him, instinctively wanting to hold him to her. His hands went under her arms and he yanked her up and off of him, rolling to pin her body beneath his. The movement was so fast and so efficient, she had lost him before she knew what was happening.


She stared up at his face, the lines carved deep, his eyes nothing but blue flames. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she had driven him past that point of no return. His hands moved over her body possessively, and everywhere he touched, she felt he’d branded her. Deep. Through her skin straight to her bones.


His mouth took hers, hard and long and delicious, taking her mind, melting it until she was squirming under him. Turning her into pure need. His mouth left hers and traveled to her right breast. He was rougher than he’d ever been with her, using the edge of his teeth. Nipping, even biting, his tongue caressing and soothing. His fingers rolled and tugged hard, sending streaks of fire straight to her clit.


Her sheath spasmed. The tension built and built. The burn grew hotter until she was pleading with him to do something. He kept at her body, his hands so big that when he stroked his palm down from beneath her breasts to her mound, he took in nearly her entire front with each sweep. She felt him everywhere.


His mouth went under her breasts, suckling. She hadn’t thought the underside of her breasts could be so erotic, but when he added his teeth, a spear of lightning slammed through her body straight between her legs. She cried out and held him to her, or tried to. His head was already moving lower. He shifted his body down the bed, to pull her thighs apart and push her legs over his shoulders, leaving her open and exposed to him.


The position felt vulnerable, especially when his hands cupped her bottom and he brought her up off the bed straight to his mouth. He had said he was ravenous for her, and he wasn’t lying. He fed. There was no other word for it. His mouth took control of her, and with the first thrust of his tongue, she was lost, sent rocketing into another realm.


There was no getting away from his mouth and the erotic noises he made while feeding on her. He liked her taste. He craved it. He clearly believed she belonged to him and so did her creamy honey. He devoured her. One orgasm crashed into another. She tried to yank his head up using a fist in his hair. She couldn’t catch her breath, her body nearly convulsing with pleasure. He used his mouth like a weapon, his tongue, his teeth, suckling and stabbing deep. And then he added a finger.


The rush was full body, overtaking her like a freight train, the strength of the wave enormous so that she couldn’t catch her breath, and panic began to take hold. Nothing could feel this good. She couldn’t take it. She couldn’t stop him. Another orgasm crashed through her.


I can’t take any more.


Yes, you can. You will. You need to be ready to take me.


He was relentless. She did the only thing she could think of in her panicked state. She tried to wrap him in silk. She’d trapped him the night before, and she was certain she could just pull him off her enough to give her breathing room. His tongue licked up her clit, stabbed inside. His finger followed and then a second one.


She spun silk around his wrist and tugged. To her shock, his arm went right through the woven strands.


Baby. Gruff amusement. I can go through walls. Do you think a little silk is going to stop me?


Her breath caught in her lungs. He could have gotten loose the night before when she’d tied him up. Any time he could have gotten loose, but he hadn’t. He’d allowed her to explore and feel safe. He’d given her that gift. That was enormous, so enormous, she forced air through her body and deliberately tried to relax. Giving back. Letting him have her. Letting him lead her.