Ghostwalker 03 - Night Game

ways of pleasin’ you to make up for it.”

    His mouth settled on hers, taking her breath, heightening her passion with the sinfully wicked edge he always seemed to have to his kisses. She could kiss him forever, just melt into his body and let his hot mouth take her somewhere far away. He brought her body to life and made her feel totally alive.

    “I know you’re a macho idiot.” She whispered it into his open mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair. “I don’t get pushed around easily so we’re pretty even.” She kissed him back, exploring his mouth, and kissing him more. “Not that I mind at all if you want to find lots of ways to please me.”

    She found herself in the bedroom and wasn’t certain how he’d managed to walk her backward, kissing her every step of the way. She hadn’t been aware of anything but his mouth and the electricity zinging through her body. He laid her across the bed and stood over her, looking down at her.

    “You have to be one of the most beautiful women in the world.”

    She should have felt embarrassed, but all she felt was happy—and turned on. She wanted him with every cell and nerve ending in her body. “You make me feel beautiful, Raoul.”
    And that was it. He made her feel wanted. Beautiful, loved even. He didn’t see the flaws and the bruising wasn’t a turn-off to him, he just kept looking at her as if he needed to devour her.

    Raoul pushed her legs apart, his hand skimming over her mound. He dipped a finger into her and licked, his tongue savoring her taste. She lifted her hips in an effort to entice him, but he shook his head. “This is the bayou, cher . We like things slow and easy in the bayou.”

    “You weren’t slow and easy last night.”

    His hands went to the insides of her thighs, slowly caressing her with long smooth strokes. He wasn’t touching her breasts, but her nipples tightened into two hard buds. A shiver went down her spine and warm liquid pooled in welcome for him.

    “Tonight’s different. Tonight’s all about slow and easy.” Raoul poured warm oil into his hands and picked in her foot. His fingers began a deep massage that some bow was as sensuous as it was relaxing. “Close your eyes, cher . Just enjoy for me.” He worked slowly up her calves to her thighs.

    Flame lowered her lashes and concentrated on the feel of his hands on her body. He was careful to skim any bruise, but whatever oil he was using seemed to take the sting out of the bruises. He massaged her belly, her breasts, and then her shoulders and her one good arm, leaving her feeling like a puddle of melted flesh in the bed.

    “Feel good?”

    “You know it does.” Her body tingled everywhere.

    He took her face in his hands and kissed her. Flame closed her eyes and just absorbed the feel of the sheer mastery of his mouth. She thought it sinful to have a mouth like his and a kiss like he delivered. So hot, so perfect, she wanted to drown in his kisses. His hands roamed over her body. She reveled in the possessive way he touched her, yet he was incredibly gentle, even tender. swirling a fingertip over her bruises, kissing and nibbling his way to her breasts.

    She ran her hand over his back, tracing the line, his narrow hip, even as she arched into his mouth, a soft moan escaping as he laved her nipples. He didn’t stop but continued the foray with his tongue, gliding lower to tease the flames riding her hip, to kiss her scar, flicking his tongue over her belly button and kissing his way lower still.

    Gator shifted position, drawing her bottom to him and lifting her legs over his shoulders.
    Flame gripped the quilt beside her, shocked at the sudden convulsing of her tight muscles. He breathed and muscles contracted. “I might not survive,” she whispered.

    He ran his thumbs over her soft folds and she arched her back, unable to stop the response. Her lingers bunched the material of the quilt into her hand. She had to hang on to something. Raoul licked her. Long. Slow. Like an ice cream he was savoring. She writhed on the bed, every nerve ending shrieking with awareness. He spent time stroking caresses over her mound, around it, on her soft inner thighs and then he went back to those long slow licks, his tongue broad and flat and sweeping over the outside between her legs until she thought she might really die from sheer pleasure.

    “You have to stop.”

    “I’m just gettin’ started, sugah. This is me loving you, Cajun-style.”

    He stabbed deep