Ghostwalker 03 - Night Game

his very own warrior. She was his equal. She was everything he could want standing right in front of him.

    She could hardly breathe, but Flame wasn’t a woman to back down once she’d made up her mind. He was looking at her, his face etched with desire and his body as starkly aroused as it could be, holding out his hand to her and she took it, allowing him to draw her close.

    Careful of her broken arm, Gator bunched her hair in his hand and, tilting her head, caught her soft sigh in his mouth. The hard peaks of her nipples pressed tightly into his chest as her body melted into his. His tongue tangled with hers, hot and moist until a river of need burst free in him. He wanted her so much he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. Her skin was incredibly soft against his and her throaty little moans nearly drove him mad.

    He kissed her over and over, rough with desire, until she was pressing her body against his, rubbing her soft belly against his arousal. The mesh brushed against his ultrasensitive groin until he was afraid he might explode. His mouth left hers to trail down her throat, nibbling along her neck until he found the creamy mounds spilling out of her costume.
    He thumbed her nipples, watching her eyes darken with desire.

    She cried out when his mouth closed over her nipple, suckling hard while his fingers tugged at her other breast through the mesh. She arched her body into his, wanting more of him. His hand slid down between her legs, to cover her dampness and she jerked in his arms, her need nearly as strong as his own. He took his time, lavishing attention on her breasts, rubbing the mesh over her skin with his chin, teasing her belly button with his tongue, all the while, moving her backward to the bed.

    When the edge of the bed hit the back of her knees, he lowered her, his mouth once more on hers, hard and insistent, refusing to allow her a moment to think. She had taken him to the very edge of his control and they’d only gotten started. She kissed him back, every bit as hungry as he was, but her eyes contained a hint of fear. She moaned in his arms, her body moving naturally against his, yet her touch was unsure.

    “You want me.” His lips left hers and returned to her breasts, his teeth and tongue teasing, mouth suckling, pulling strongly, hands tugging and massaging. He loved the animalistic sounds coming from her throat. He looked at her body, flushed with desire, breasts swollen and nipples hard peaks, her breathing as ragged as his. Beneath his wandering hand her stomach muscles contracted and her hips moved restlessly. “But I want more from you, Flame. I want you crying for me. I want you needing me the way I do you. I need more.”

    Flame couldn’t imagine there being more. More might kill her. He wanted her crying?
    She was nearly sobbing for mercy. His mouth was so hot, blazing a trail of fire along her tummy. He paid particular attention to her tattoo, licking along the flames, kissing her scar, driving her crazy. His hand slid up her thigh, drowning her in sensations she’d never experienced.

    His eyes met hers as his tongue paid lavish attention to her belly button, and then began to track lower, dropping little kisses and teasing bites all the way down to the end of the mesh. His fingers brushed her mound and she jerked beneath his hand, a moan escaping, one that brutally hardened him to the point of agony. He wanted to sink into her heat immediately, but not before she was writhing mindlessly. Flame was a warrior woman and he needed to keep her involved, because if she changed her mind, he’d have a fight on his hands. He lowered his head and inhaled her scent.

    “Raoul.”

    There was a catch in her voice. A tremor. He heard it as he flicked his tongue along the flowering moist seam. She nearly came apart as he widened her thighs to accommodate his shoulders. He pushed his tongue inside her with a slow deliberate stroke. Her hand twisted in his hair and she pushed forward into his mouth.

    She tasted sweet, like honey and he couldn’t stop himself from diving deeper, taking his fill. He flicked and stabbed with his tongue, sucked and teased until she bucked against his mouth, sobbing for release.

    Flame tried to find an anchor, something, anything at all to hold her to earth. She wasn’t prepared for his expertise and Raoul was sweeping her away before she could catch her breath, or think or analyze or do any of the things she needed to do for control.