Ghostwalker 01- Shadow Game

shook him. She had known the moment she laid eyes on him that she wanted him and she had immediately begun to educate herself, learning as much as she could about sexual appetites, wanting to know how to please him. Nothing she read or watched had prepared her for what she was feeling.
    She had thought she would be embarrassed and afraid to be naked in front of him, but instead she reveled in the way he looked at her. The way he touched her. The way his gaze burned over her so possessively.
    Ryland lifted his head, studied her cloudy eyes, her soft mouth swollen from his ravaging kisses. "I'm trying to be gentle, honey." He attempted to explain, but the words were trapped in his heart. His hands were already pulling off his clothes, flinging them aside.
    His heart beat like thunder. He had fantasized this moment so often, his body in a continual state of arousal for so long, he feared anything he said could never describe how he felt about her. There were no words. She was a fever in his blood, a craving, obsession, she was his heart and soul. How could he say that to her? "I swear I won't hurt you." He meant ever. Not with his body and not with his mind.
    Lily stared up at him, lying in the darkness, mesmerized by the dark passion etched deeply into his face. He took her breath away. Every muscle in her body was weak with wanting him, every cell on fire for his touch. She should have been afraid of his craving, the intensity of his terrible hunger, but within her body, in the shadowy corners of her soul, she found her own secret desires.

    There was no ice running in her veins, there was molten lava. Deep inside of her stirred a volcano, hot and thick and ready to erupt, swirling to the surface to meet his every demand. Eagerly. Wantonly. She reached for him. "I'm a woman, Ryland, not a porcelain doll. I know exactly what I want."
    Their mouths fused together, electric and hot. Her hands moved over him, needing to feel every muscle, just as he needed to explore her body. He kept to his plan, using slow torture to arouse her to a frightening pitch. He suckled her lush breasts, his tongue teasing, his teeth scraping gently, his mouth hot and moist. He traced her ribs, the flat of her stomach. The curve of her hip, every hollow. He wanted every one of Lily's secrets.
    He wouldn't take anything less.
    "Ryland, please," Lily's body was so sensitive she was afraid she was going to cry with wanting him. She was aching and heavy and beyond reason.
    "Look at me, baby," he said softly, directing her gaze to the heavy erection. "I'm a big man and I'll be damned if I'll hurt you, even a little."
    His finger stroked into her damp heat and she nearly rose off the mattress. "You're torturing me," she said, but she couldn't stop herself from pushing against his hand, desperately seeking relief.
    Ryland encouraged her to thrust against his hand as he slowly pushed his finger into her tight channel. She was hot and slick but far too tight to take his thick arousal. It was obvious she hadn't been with anyone else and the idea that he was her only, that he would be the one teaching her was even more exciting. Lily was passionate, abandoned, willing to do what came naturally to her.
    "I'm going to stretch you a little more, honey; just relax for me. You trust me, don't you, Lily?" He withdrew one finger, slowly inserting two, watching her expression closely for signs of discomfort as he pushed deeper into her body.
    The sensation was so pleasurable it was alarming. Lily fought for breath, fought for control where there was none. She never wanted Ryland to stop. He thrust deeper, the friction electric, shocking in its intensity. He was doing things deep inside her, stroking and teasing and making her crazy so she couldn't lie still. Her hips surged against his hands wantonly.
    "This shouldn't hurt, Lily, I'll make it good for you," he whispered, pushing her thighs apart, settling his weight there. "Look at us, honey. We belong together." Ryland took his erection in his hand, pressed the engorged head to her moist entrance.
    He was far thicker than she had anticipated and he stretched her body, slowly, pushing his way through her hot folds, forcing her tight muscles to allow him entrance. She cried out as he went deeper, stopped at the thin, almost nonexistent barrier, then deeper still in a harder thrust, filling her to such a fullness she burned and throbbed and unexpectedly plummeted over the edge.
    Neither expected the reaction, the