Night Game

Page 41

Gator threw his head back, a low, strangled moan emerging from his throat. Flame never did anything in half measures and she was a fast learner. She started out so sweet and tentative. She was a mixture of innocent and siren and already she was taking him deep, suckling strongly, using her tongue to torment and tease. He had planned just a very short little lesson, but her hand caressed and squeezed his balls, circled his shaft and did the same all the while her mouth worked hot magic on him. Twice he felt the squeeze of her throat as she did a slow, heart-stopping slide. He could feel his balls drawing tighter and tighter until he was certain he would explode.
He did the only thing he could think to do to save coming too soon. He wanted to be in her body, giving her so much pleasure she wouldn’t think of ever leaving him. He had time for everything else. Years, he hoped. Years of her mouth and body and her soft, sexy laughter and her sass. He hit the switch on the remote controlling the eggs so that they buzzed to vivid life, moving and fluttering and pressing against sensitive nerve endings.
Flame rocked back on her heels, crying out as her muscles spasmed and contracted. A tremor went through her. “Raoul.”
He caught her waist and gently tugged until she was bent over the side of the bed. “Watch your arm, cher. I want you comfortable.” He stood behind her, his hand caressing her bottom. “I love your ass. I fantasize about it all the time.”
“Stop talking and do something.” She nearly sobbed the order, unable to stand still, her body tippling with orgasm after orgasm.
He switched off the remote and reached down to tug the string. She gasped as one by one the eggs slid over her heightened nerve endings causing a second shudder of pleasure. “You’re so wet, Flame, so hot.” He pressed against her, catching her h*ps and drawing her back while he slammed forward. “So damn tight.”
The moment he plunged inside her, driving through her tight folds, so hard and thick, filling her, rubbing against her overstimulated nerve endings she couldn’t stop from trying to take control of the pace. She was frantic, pounding back against him, riding him hard while her body seemed to wind tighter and tighter. She felt it everywhere, her legs, her br**sts, but especially between her legs, the fierce pleasure spiraling out of control. Wave after wave shook her.
Suddenly he went still, his hands on her bottom, massaging, kneading, his body deep inside her while she pushed back against him desperate for relief.
“What are you doing?”
“I just can’t help myself, cher. I’m a weak man and the temptation is too much for me.”
She could feel him swelling inside her, his excitement obvious. He felt too big again, hitting her womb, too thick stretching her tight channel. Flame glanced back at over her shoulder. Her eyes widened when she saw him pick up the leopard-skin paddle. “If you want to live, you won’t dare.”
“Then I’m going to die in paradise.” He smacked her bare bottom with the paddle.
Flame gritted her teeth. “You do that again and I’ll break that thing over your head.”
The paddle went flying. “I didn’t much like it, either. ‘Course,”-his hand massaged her bottom again-”if I were to give you a spankin’ I’d want to do it with my hand so I could feel you-and you could feel me. That would be sensual, not impersonal. That’s what was wrong.”
“Raoul!” Flame wailed his name, riding back against him, moving her h*ps to try to force his compliance, grinding her body against his with small sobs of need. She was going to have to hurt him if he didn’t get on with it.
His hand came down on her bare butt bringing a flare of unexpected heat and then a caress as his palm rubbed over the spot. Her tight muscles contracted around him and a fresh flood of liquid bathed him. Before she could form a protest, he thrust, driving mercilessly through her hot sheath hard and deep, over and over.
Flame couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Only feel. A sob of pleasure escaped as her cl**ax tore through her body with such force she would have fallen if Raoul hadn’t been holding tightly to her hips. Her muscles clamped down on him, gripping hard, squeezing so hot and tight she heard his breath explode from his lungs.
He swore in Cajun, a long growling, guttural curse -while his body swelled thicker and thicker until he was rising on his toes and gritting his teeth, shuddering with pleasure as his body jerked with his own violent, explosive release.
Flame lay facedown over the side of the bed, Raoul’s thick erection buried deep inside her, his body blanketing hers, while they both gasped, searching to draw air into burning lungs and calm the wild storm crashing over their bodies. Spasm after spasm tightened ruthlessly on him. rocking them both, even as they lay quiet. She could feel her body pulsing around his, greedy for more, yet she was exhausted.
Dawn had crept into the room, the early-morning light spilling over them, bringing with it some semblance of sanity. She felt the burn of tears. She wanted to spend her life here, in this cabin, far away from the insanity of who and what she was, but it was impossible. How could she stand knowing what it would have been like to stay with him? To have him? To have a family?
Raoul would bring her pleasure beyond measure. And he would always make her laugh and feel safe and protected.
“Are you crying?” His hands stroked her hair. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
She shook her head. How could she tell him the truth? Of course it hurt. He had shown her paradise and she was going to have to walk away. His hands ran down the length of her body, lingered on the sides of her br**sts.
Even that small touch sent another small aftershock rippling through her. His mouth teased the nape of her neck, his hands massaging her bottom, fingers dipping into her heat and rubbing to send another much stronger aftershock through her.
“I love that,” he whispered against her spine. “I love how hot and wet you are for me and how when I touch you, and I’m deep inside you, all your muscles clamp down on me as if you’re holding me inside you and don’t want to let me go.”
She turned her face to the side, resting it on the quilt. She looked exhausted, sated, drowsy, and sexy all together. The sight of her made his throat ache and his eyes burn. He had felt empty for so long, needing something and not even knowing it. Flame was a miracle, a once in a lifetime gift, and he wasn’t going to be fool enough to let her slip through his fingers.
His body relaxed slowly, allowing him plenty of time to enjoy the ripples of pleasure coursing through her. He helped her sit on the edge of the bed, a slow grin stealing over his face as he surveyed the room. It smelled of sex and candles and he inhaled to remember the heady aroma forever.
She looked fragile when he knew she wasn’t. Everything male in him rose up to want to protect her, which was funny, because when she got him riled, everything in him wanted to dominate her. She brought out extreme emotions in him, made him feel alive, made him want to be alive.
He drew a finger across her breast and leaned close to take the tip into his mouth, biting down gently and tugging, before laving with his tongue. He felt a shiver run through her. Male satisfaction was instant.
“We can’t stay here all day,” she said.
He felt her withdrawal, a small feminine retreat, her body moving inches from his, but definitely telling him something. He caught her chin in his hand. “Sure we can. You just got out of the hospital and you’re entitled to a day or two of resting. Even with painkillers I know that arm has to hurt.”
A faint smile curved her mouth, but didn’t reach her eyes. And she avoided looking at him. “Is this what you all resting?”
Deliberately, to prove to himself he could, he bent his mouth to her breast again, this time suckling strongly, his hand on her stomach to feel the contractions sweeping through her at his touch. He loved the power of it, the way she shuddered with instant need when he’d just had her. It took him a moment or two to realize what that meant. She was still trying to withdraw and he was asserting dominance. Frustrated, he sat back, regarding her averted face while fear and anger began a deadly mix. “What is it, Flame?”
She stared out the window, refusing to meet his gaze. “This doesn’t change anything you know.”
“What doesn’t change anything?” Gator couldn’t keep the challenge out of his voice. She damn well wasn’t going to sleep with him and dismiss him.
Flame finally turned her head and looked at him. “You know exactly what I mean. We…”
“Don’t you dare use the F word. I made love to you all last night and this morning and you knew that was exactly what I was doing. Don’t you even think about calling it anything else.”
Her eyebrow shot up. “The F word? You weren’t so afraid of using the word the other day or last night for that matter. I was going to say slept with you. You’re such a hothead. We slept together, that’s all.”
“I swear, Flame, I’ve never had anyone make me as crazy as you manage to do. I’m not letting you just dismiss me after last night.” His dark eyes glittered at her.
She shrugged as nonchalantly as she could. “I’m certain you’ve rejected lots of women after sleeping with them. Don’t act so outraged.”
He was angry. He could feel the anger churning in his gut, riding him hard as he struggled for control. He turned away, paced across the room when his fingers itched to shake her. She could pretend to be casual about what was happening between them all she wanted, but that’s what it was-pretense. “You’re being a damned coward, Flame, and that’s beneath you.”
Her breath hissed out between her teeth and she whirled around, her eyes fairly shooting sparks. “Don’t you dare call me a coward. You don’t know the first thing about me. Your ego is a little wounded because I’m not falling at your feet like all the other women you took to bed and then walked away from.”
He stepped closer to her, uncaring that the walls of the cabin expanded and contracted and beneath his feet, the ground shifted ominously. “You think I don’t know you want me as much as I want you? Hell, honey, you don’ have near the experience I have.”
Flame sucked in her breath and quickly turned her face away from him, but not before he saw the hurt in her eyes.
“Fils de putin!” Gator passed his hand over his face. This was his fault, not hers. He was the experienced one, yet he’d been so out of control, wanting her so badly, he acted like a buck in rutting season. How would she know he’d been making love to her when he hadn’t been tender and gentle?
“Flame…” he began, at a loss for words. He didn’t talk about feelings. He just felt. “I made love to you. That was me making love to you and maybe you deserved a different initiation, but I meant it as loving you. I’m not all that civilized and I can’t say what I’m feelin’ right all the time, but…”
She turned her head from him and he caught the glitter of tears. “Don’t, Raoul. This is me freaking out, not you doing something wrong.” She drew the sheet around her, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “I’m afraid of you, of how you make me feel. When I’m afraid, I have a tendency to run. And if I can’t run, then I go on the offensive.”
“You’re not embarrassed with me, are you? Because the things we did are natural. We didn’t do anything wrong.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not embarrassed.” And God help her she wanted to do them all again with him. “I’m just-confused. I’ve always had a plan and I’ve always kept on the move. I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know if I can stop, or even if it’s safe to stop, even for a little while.”
“It’s okay to be confused, cher. I can live with confused. I just can’t take you leaving me. Maybe we’re both a little afraid, but I say we give it a try.”