Ghostwalker 08 - Street Game

shield I build around you before you ever go out on another mission. You’re not ever going to endanger us. Unless it’s spontaneous combustion, because right now, Jaimie, I 278

    think I might go up in flames.” His tongue dipped into her heat, lingered for a moment, and then found her inner thigh.
    She jumped when his teeth nipped her. He laughed softly out of sheer joy. “I want to get married immediately.” He plunged his tongue into her wet heat.
    “What?” The word came out a strangled gasp. She closed her eyes and held on to him for her sanity. He licked at her, long savoring licks as if he could feed from her forever. The sounds he was making vibrated through her body, adding to the waves of pleasure his mouth created.
    Mack never stopped devouring her, his mouth clamped over her wet, slick entrance as he turned his body slightly, enough to give him leverage so he could force her back down on the bed. She spilled onto the comforter, her legs splayed, so he could slide down onto the floor, dragging her hips nearly off the bed, assaulting her with his hungry mouth.
    She cried out and he reveled in the sound of her voice, the way he could take her up so fast, the way she always responded to his touch. He lifted his head, his tongue licking at the flavor of her on his lips. “I love the way you taste, Jaimie. I swear I could eat you for breakfast every damn morning.”
    “Inside me. Right now, Mack. I can’t wait.” She tugged at his hair to try to force him to blanket her.
    “I love to torture you,” he whispered, his fingers moving inside her, stretching her, finding that secret erotic button that had her writhing on the bed, her hips bucking, and her feminine muscles squeezing tightly. He watched her eyes widen and glaze, the flush spread over her body. Her stomach rippled and her breasts lifted.
    “Again, baby, this time go all the way,” he ordered and replaced his fingers with his mouth. His tongue speared her and she bucked against him hard, her breath exploding out of her aching lungs. She heard herself sob as the fire streaked through her. Her body thrashed, but he held her firmly, his tongue teasing and stroking, insisting on his way. That fast she flew apart, an explosion of her senses ripping through her body like a hurricane.
    Before she could catch her breath, he pulled her thighs apart and stood over her, his cock in his hand, poised at her pulsing entrance. He waited until her eyes locked with his and then he plunged deep, driving through her tight, sensitive folds. Fiery hot. Velvet tight. His body reacted, the scorching heat rushing through his veins like a drug. Addicting. Real. His .
    He held her still, open to his invasion as he plunged deep over and over, savoring the grasping, viselike grip of her muscles surrounding him with fire. She made him hot. She made him wild. She made him forget everything ugly in the world. There was only Jaimie with her body and her love surrounding him with such mind-numbing pleasure he sometimes thought he might not survive it.
    He could feel flames licking over his skin, surrounding his cock, streaking through his body, down his thighs, up into his belly to settle into a rolling ball of fire. “Damn, 279

    baby, you’re so fucking tight. So hot.” Another low growl rumbled in his chest, a sound so animalistic it shocked even him. Nothing mattered but the fire building.
    Her muscles tightened around him, locking down, imprisoning him in a velvet inferno. “Don’t. Baby, you’ve got to stop or I’m never going to hold on.” He wanted to be there forever. Live there. Just stay locked inside of her where fire purified them both. Streaks of flames blazed through his cock, teased his thighs, and raced down his legs to his toes.
    He plunged deep into that scalding heat and she writhed again. His breath hissed out, a harsh, rough demand. “Stay still, Jaimie.”
    Pure need rode him now, a thousand demons intent on prolonging the ecstasy. He set his teeth and gripped her legs, jerking them over his arms as he levered over her, thrusting hard over and over while her soft mewling cries accompanied the frantic, harsh rhythm he set. The tension grew and stretched in him. He felt the boiling in his balls, as they drew tighter and tighter. He didn’t take his eyes from her face, watching her every inflection, every transparent expression, each nuance. Every time her breath hitched or she arched her body, or thrashed her head, he slammed home, driving