Night Game
Page 40
He watched her face as he began to push into her body. “You’re so f**kin’ tight you’re killing me, Flame.” And hot and slick and velvet soft yet gripping him like a fist. He stretched her slowly, terrified of hurting her, but far too close to losing his own control.
She thought he had it the wrong way around. He was killing her, stretching her impossibly. It stung, burned, yet it felt so good. She didn’t know if she wanted to fight him off of her, or drag him closer.
“Don’t move.”
She realized she had been moving, pressing closer, trying to take more of him, wanting all of him. She could feel her muscles clenching around him, gripping him tight, beginning to spasm with the hard slide of his body. She moved again, an enticing little wiggle she couldn’t quite stop. He groaned and surged forward, past the thin barrier to lodge deep. The bite of pain mingled with a burst of pleasure and the breath exploded out of her in a single rush.
“Its all right now.” His voice was strained. He moved, withdrawing from her, so that she held her breath at the first feel of fiery friction. He surged into her deep and hard, making her cry out. His arms looped beneath her thighs giving him a better angle so each time he pistoned forward through her tight folds, he could hear that breathless little cry over and over. It seemed to vibrate through his body and center in his groin adding to his own pleasure.
Her body squeezed tightly around his until he felt sweat beading on his forehead with the intensity of the sensations pouring over him. She was so hot and the sight of her, lying under him, her body sprawled out for his pleasure alone was enough to send him into oblivion. With every hard stroke as he thrust into her, her round br**sts swayed, ni**les hard with desire-for him. Her eyes were slightly glazed and her breath was ragged. Her soft little moans drove him crazy, vibrating through his body, swelling his c**k more than he’d ever experienced.
Gator didn’t want to stop, wanted to be forever just like this, his idea of paradise, thrusting in and out of her tight body with hard, deep strokes, watching the effect of his body on hers, the near ecstasy washing over her and the idea that she was his. Only his. That she opened to him, body and mind and heart when she never let any other so close. That alone was a huge turn-on to him.
The walls of her channel tightened impossibly around him with hard deep spasms, contracting and squeezing, the orgasm exploding over both of them, robbing him of what little control he had left. He swelled impossibly bigger, his balls drawing up painfully and then he was surging hard, pounding into her, a single long note of ecstasy escaping from his throat. His orgasm seemed endless, a merciless volcano pouring through his body and into hers while she sobbed, clutching at the quilt, trying to ride out the exquisite torment.
Flame didn’t think her body would ever stop the rocketing spasms. Wave after wave of sheer pleasure rippled through her body, and when she thought it would subside, he moved, just a bit, and aftershocks instantly took over, shaking her and throwing her into another quaking round. She clung to him, shocked that he could make her body so responsive, so sensitive and so incredibly hot.
Gator stared down at Flame in awe. “Mon Deiu, cher. Just kill me now and I’ll go happy.” He collapsed on top of her, sliding the top half of his body to one side to avoid her injured arm. “You’re amazing.”
“I was, wasn’t I?” Flame said, smirking with satisfaction. “And don’t let me forget to mention to your grand mother that mesh is not the least bit comfortable.”
He kissed her neck. “What about the leather?”
“It itches when it’s sweaty.”
“I don’ sleep in clothes anyway. You don’ need to either.” Gator propped himself up on one elbow and proceeded to rip the mesh away from the leather. It came away in his hand after a little wiggling on her part to get it out from under her, leaving her rib cage wrapped in leather.
“Now I look like a sausage,” she announced and burst out laughing.
He rubbed his face against her br**sts, his shadowy jaw rough on her ni**les. “I wouldn’t say that. I think you look sexy.”
She couldn’t stop laughing, even though the movement sent aftershocks rippling through her body. “You’re so crazy. Unzip it.”
“I don’ know, cher.” His accent thickened. Her body reluctantly released his from her snug sheath and he sighed softly. “I think you look good in leather.” His tongue flicked her ni**les and he nuzzled his face into the valley between her br**sts.
Still laughing, Flame reached for the knife on the end table beside the bed at exactly the same moment he reached or the can of whipped cream. “You’re such a freak, Raoul. Just what do you think you’re doing with that?”
“Expanding my horizons.” He traced the flames of her tattoo as he shook the can. “What ‘ya going to do with that knife?” His tone lowered, was husky, frankly sensual.
She slid the tip of the razor-sharp blade along the edge of the leather and cut herself free of the offending material. “Nothing thrilling, believe me.” Laughter was beginning to overtake her again. She couldn’t help it. He looked so eager. “Put your little can of whipped cream down, I’m going to sleep. You wore me out.”
He outlined her tattoo with the whipped cream, leaned down and licked it off. “Good brand.”
“Well that’s all right then.”
“Stop squirming. I’m drawing a masterpiece. This is art.” He used the whipped cream to draw a happy face on her lower belly. This time when he licked it off she closed her eyes and he could feel the shudder of pleasure running through her. “I got me lots of toys to play with, Flame. You just go ahead and go on to sleep and when I think I need to wake you up, I’ll find a way to do it that you’ll like.”
“I can’t go to sleep with you spraying whipped cream all over me.”
This time he outlined a bikini top on her br**sts and bent to lick it off. His tongue rasped over her skin and around her nipple. There was a small tug of his teeth. Her womb contracted and clenched hard in response. Flame tangled her fingers in his hair and closed her eyes, giving herself up to the sensations of his tongue and teeth, the moist heat of his mouth and his exploring hands. “You’re not planning on really using those ridiculous toys, are you?”
“Hell yeah, we’re using them.”
She opened one eye. “I call the handcuffs and paddle.”
“Not a chance, femme sexy, I’m stronger than you.” His hand caressed her bottom. “I’ve got me plans.”
“You’re such a goof.” For the first time in her life, she felt truly happy. And she hoped it would be a long, long night. “Just remember who has the knife.”
CHAPTER 15
Flame woke with her heart thundering in her ears. Nightmares had invaded her sensual dreams and left her gasping. She lay still, looking up at the rough ceiling knowing dawn was just an hour or so away. She had never allowed herself to be so close to anyone. She’d formed friendships, let herself enjoy people, but she never took a relationship far enough that she needed any one. She never risked wanting anything so much that she couldn’t leave it behind, so it didn’t make sense to her that wanting to be with one person would ever be important enough to risk her freedom.
She rubbed her broken arm absently as she listened to the sound of Raoul breathing. His arm was around her body possessively, his hand under her breast. She could feel the rub of his knuckles and even that small contact sent excitement skittering through her body. He had power over her whether he knew it or not. Flame tried to be ruthless in her dealings with her own feelings. She didn’t want to let go of Raoul. She tried to be analytical and logical.
What real future together was there for them? She could seek help from a conventional doctor. It might buy her time, but it wouldn’t cure the cancer. Only Whitney could do that. And going to a doctor would reveal her genetic enhancement and everything else Whitney had done. It would put her square in the limelight and the government would swoop in and retrieve her. She was worth too much money and frankly, they would think it would be too dangerous to allow her to run around loose.
She eased her way out from under Raoul, sliding to the edge of the bed. The moment she sat up, she was aware of her body, deliciously sore, strangely stimulating as if deep inside something moved against her most sensitive parts. Raoul had been so eager to get at her body, to keep nothing between them, his hands roaming over her even after his sexual appetite was temporarily sated. And he never seemed to be sated for very long, waking her over and over in the night.
As if reading her thoughts, his arm snaked around her waist. “It isn’t light yet.”
She closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, savoring his Cajun accent and the velvet smoothness of his tone. Almost.”
“We didn’t get to finish playin’ with all the toys, cher,” he cajoled, pressing a kiss against the scar in the midst of the flames arching over her hip. “I was thinking we could spend a little time with the handcuffs.”
She turned her head to regard him with what she hoped was a stern look. Unfortunately, he always made her want to laugh. He looked sinfully sexy, a little bit wicked, yet still managed a boyish anticipation. “Not in your wildest dreams.”
“Now, sugah. The entire concept behind handcuffs is a control issue. I like control. And the thought of you kneeling in front of me, hands behind your back, helpless so I can do whatever I want to your body makes me as hard as hell.”
She did burst out laughing, “You really are a freakin’ pervert, Raoul, and honestly, just about everything makes you hard as hell.”
“You don’ know the half of it, cher.” He reached casually for the small remote on the nightstand and turned the switch.
Her breath caught in her throat and she spun around, wide-eyed as the small eggs deep inside her body began to vibrate. “What did you do?”
“You were sleeping so sound, exhausted from all the playin’ we did and I didn’t want to wake you up. It was so damn sexy putting those eggs inside of you. Do they feel good?” He licked the scar, nibbled his way up her rib cage. “Tell me what it feels like.” He laid back again, his dark eyes drifting moodily over her face, watching her expression. “Even in your sleep you get damp and taste like honey. I wanted to do so many things last night, but didn’t want to scare you off.”
Each movement of her body sent the eggs bouncing around until they were vibrating over her most sensitive spot triggering a flood of liquid heat. Her womb and her stomach muscles contracted, an unexpected orgasm beginning to wash over her so that she gasped.
Oh, yeah, they feel good,” he whispered and flicked tongue over her nipple. “Lean down here.” His hand circled the thick length of his erection, holding it up for her. “Every time I see you, or smell you, or even hear your voice, this is what you do to me. Put your hands on me. your mouth. I want to have your mouth on me.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Don’ worry, cher, I’m a hell of a good teacher.” Using the remote, he changed the setting, so that the eggs were subtly vibrating against the walls of her tight channel. His fists curled in her hair and guided her head down to him. He closed his eyes as her tongue flicked the pearled drops from him. “Son of a bitch, Flame. I might not be able to survive the lesson.”
Flame looked up at his face, and the breath rushed from her lungs. She had such power over him. It was amazing to her and all he wanted was what she’d been curious about anyway. He knew her body intimately, she wanted to know his just as intimately.
He used his fists in her hair to guide her movements, as she slowly licked, kissed, and nibbled, building up her courage before taking him deep into the heat of her mouth. He groaned, unable to stop the sound from escaping. Flame had good instincts and it didn’t take her long to figure out just from his reactions what he liked and what he loved.
She thought he had it the wrong way around. He was killing her, stretching her impossibly. It stung, burned, yet it felt so good. She didn’t know if she wanted to fight him off of her, or drag him closer.
“Don’t move.”
She realized she had been moving, pressing closer, trying to take more of him, wanting all of him. She could feel her muscles clenching around him, gripping him tight, beginning to spasm with the hard slide of his body. She moved again, an enticing little wiggle she couldn’t quite stop. He groaned and surged forward, past the thin barrier to lodge deep. The bite of pain mingled with a burst of pleasure and the breath exploded out of her in a single rush.
“Its all right now.” His voice was strained. He moved, withdrawing from her, so that she held her breath at the first feel of fiery friction. He surged into her deep and hard, making her cry out. His arms looped beneath her thighs giving him a better angle so each time he pistoned forward through her tight folds, he could hear that breathless little cry over and over. It seemed to vibrate through his body and center in his groin adding to his own pleasure.
Her body squeezed tightly around his until he felt sweat beading on his forehead with the intensity of the sensations pouring over him. She was so hot and the sight of her, lying under him, her body sprawled out for his pleasure alone was enough to send him into oblivion. With every hard stroke as he thrust into her, her round br**sts swayed, ni**les hard with desire-for him. Her eyes were slightly glazed and her breath was ragged. Her soft little moans drove him crazy, vibrating through his body, swelling his c**k more than he’d ever experienced.
Gator didn’t want to stop, wanted to be forever just like this, his idea of paradise, thrusting in and out of her tight body with hard, deep strokes, watching the effect of his body on hers, the near ecstasy washing over her and the idea that she was his. Only his. That she opened to him, body and mind and heart when she never let any other so close. That alone was a huge turn-on to him.
The walls of her channel tightened impossibly around him with hard deep spasms, contracting and squeezing, the orgasm exploding over both of them, robbing him of what little control he had left. He swelled impossibly bigger, his balls drawing up painfully and then he was surging hard, pounding into her, a single long note of ecstasy escaping from his throat. His orgasm seemed endless, a merciless volcano pouring through his body and into hers while she sobbed, clutching at the quilt, trying to ride out the exquisite torment.
Flame didn’t think her body would ever stop the rocketing spasms. Wave after wave of sheer pleasure rippled through her body, and when she thought it would subside, he moved, just a bit, and aftershocks instantly took over, shaking her and throwing her into another quaking round. She clung to him, shocked that he could make her body so responsive, so sensitive and so incredibly hot.
Gator stared down at Flame in awe. “Mon Deiu, cher. Just kill me now and I’ll go happy.” He collapsed on top of her, sliding the top half of his body to one side to avoid her injured arm. “You’re amazing.”
“I was, wasn’t I?” Flame said, smirking with satisfaction. “And don’t let me forget to mention to your grand mother that mesh is not the least bit comfortable.”
He kissed her neck. “What about the leather?”
“It itches when it’s sweaty.”
“I don’ sleep in clothes anyway. You don’ need to either.” Gator propped himself up on one elbow and proceeded to rip the mesh away from the leather. It came away in his hand after a little wiggling on her part to get it out from under her, leaving her rib cage wrapped in leather.
“Now I look like a sausage,” she announced and burst out laughing.
He rubbed his face against her br**sts, his shadowy jaw rough on her ni**les. “I wouldn’t say that. I think you look sexy.”
She couldn’t stop laughing, even though the movement sent aftershocks rippling through her body. “You’re so crazy. Unzip it.”
“I don’ know, cher.” His accent thickened. Her body reluctantly released his from her snug sheath and he sighed softly. “I think you look good in leather.” His tongue flicked her ni**les and he nuzzled his face into the valley between her br**sts.
Still laughing, Flame reached for the knife on the end table beside the bed at exactly the same moment he reached or the can of whipped cream. “You’re such a freak, Raoul. Just what do you think you’re doing with that?”
“Expanding my horizons.” He traced the flames of her tattoo as he shook the can. “What ‘ya going to do with that knife?” His tone lowered, was husky, frankly sensual.
She slid the tip of the razor-sharp blade along the edge of the leather and cut herself free of the offending material. “Nothing thrilling, believe me.” Laughter was beginning to overtake her again. She couldn’t help it. He looked so eager. “Put your little can of whipped cream down, I’m going to sleep. You wore me out.”
He outlined her tattoo with the whipped cream, leaned down and licked it off. “Good brand.”
“Well that’s all right then.”
“Stop squirming. I’m drawing a masterpiece. This is art.” He used the whipped cream to draw a happy face on her lower belly. This time when he licked it off she closed her eyes and he could feel the shudder of pleasure running through her. “I got me lots of toys to play with, Flame. You just go ahead and go on to sleep and when I think I need to wake you up, I’ll find a way to do it that you’ll like.”
“I can’t go to sleep with you spraying whipped cream all over me.”
This time he outlined a bikini top on her br**sts and bent to lick it off. His tongue rasped over her skin and around her nipple. There was a small tug of his teeth. Her womb contracted and clenched hard in response. Flame tangled her fingers in his hair and closed her eyes, giving herself up to the sensations of his tongue and teeth, the moist heat of his mouth and his exploring hands. “You’re not planning on really using those ridiculous toys, are you?”
“Hell yeah, we’re using them.”
She opened one eye. “I call the handcuffs and paddle.”
“Not a chance, femme sexy, I’m stronger than you.” His hand caressed her bottom. “I’ve got me plans.”
“You’re such a goof.” For the first time in her life, she felt truly happy. And she hoped it would be a long, long night. “Just remember who has the knife.”
CHAPTER 15
Flame woke with her heart thundering in her ears. Nightmares had invaded her sensual dreams and left her gasping. She lay still, looking up at the rough ceiling knowing dawn was just an hour or so away. She had never allowed herself to be so close to anyone. She’d formed friendships, let herself enjoy people, but she never took a relationship far enough that she needed any one. She never risked wanting anything so much that she couldn’t leave it behind, so it didn’t make sense to her that wanting to be with one person would ever be important enough to risk her freedom.
She rubbed her broken arm absently as she listened to the sound of Raoul breathing. His arm was around her body possessively, his hand under her breast. She could feel the rub of his knuckles and even that small contact sent excitement skittering through her body. He had power over her whether he knew it or not. Flame tried to be ruthless in her dealings with her own feelings. She didn’t want to let go of Raoul. She tried to be analytical and logical.
What real future together was there for them? She could seek help from a conventional doctor. It might buy her time, but it wouldn’t cure the cancer. Only Whitney could do that. And going to a doctor would reveal her genetic enhancement and everything else Whitney had done. It would put her square in the limelight and the government would swoop in and retrieve her. She was worth too much money and frankly, they would think it would be too dangerous to allow her to run around loose.
She eased her way out from under Raoul, sliding to the edge of the bed. The moment she sat up, she was aware of her body, deliciously sore, strangely stimulating as if deep inside something moved against her most sensitive parts. Raoul had been so eager to get at her body, to keep nothing between them, his hands roaming over her even after his sexual appetite was temporarily sated. And he never seemed to be sated for very long, waking her over and over in the night.
As if reading her thoughts, his arm snaked around her waist. “It isn’t light yet.”
She closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, savoring his Cajun accent and the velvet smoothness of his tone. Almost.”
“We didn’t get to finish playin’ with all the toys, cher,” he cajoled, pressing a kiss against the scar in the midst of the flames arching over her hip. “I was thinking we could spend a little time with the handcuffs.”
She turned her head to regard him with what she hoped was a stern look. Unfortunately, he always made her want to laugh. He looked sinfully sexy, a little bit wicked, yet still managed a boyish anticipation. “Not in your wildest dreams.”
“Now, sugah. The entire concept behind handcuffs is a control issue. I like control. And the thought of you kneeling in front of me, hands behind your back, helpless so I can do whatever I want to your body makes me as hard as hell.”
She did burst out laughing, “You really are a freakin’ pervert, Raoul, and honestly, just about everything makes you hard as hell.”
“You don’ know the half of it, cher.” He reached casually for the small remote on the nightstand and turned the switch.
Her breath caught in her throat and she spun around, wide-eyed as the small eggs deep inside her body began to vibrate. “What did you do?”
“You were sleeping so sound, exhausted from all the playin’ we did and I didn’t want to wake you up. It was so damn sexy putting those eggs inside of you. Do they feel good?” He licked the scar, nibbled his way up her rib cage. “Tell me what it feels like.” He laid back again, his dark eyes drifting moodily over her face, watching her expression. “Even in your sleep you get damp and taste like honey. I wanted to do so many things last night, but didn’t want to scare you off.”
Each movement of her body sent the eggs bouncing around until they were vibrating over her most sensitive spot triggering a flood of liquid heat. Her womb and her stomach muscles contracted, an unexpected orgasm beginning to wash over her so that she gasped.
Oh, yeah, they feel good,” he whispered and flicked tongue over her nipple. “Lean down here.” His hand circled the thick length of his erection, holding it up for her. “Every time I see you, or smell you, or even hear your voice, this is what you do to me. Put your hands on me. your mouth. I want to have your mouth on me.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Don’ worry, cher, I’m a hell of a good teacher.” Using the remote, he changed the setting, so that the eggs were subtly vibrating against the walls of her tight channel. His fists curled in her hair and guided her head down to him. He closed his eyes as her tongue flicked the pearled drops from him. “Son of a bitch, Flame. I might not be able to survive the lesson.”
Flame looked up at his face, and the breath rushed from her lungs. She had such power over him. It was amazing to her and all he wanted was what she’d been curious about anyway. He knew her body intimately, she wanted to know his just as intimately.
He used his fists in her hair to guide her movements, as she slowly licked, kissed, and nibbled, building up her courage before taking him deep into the heat of her mouth. He groaned, unable to stop the sound from escaping. Flame had good instincts and it didn’t take her long to figure out just from his reactions what he liked and what he loved.
