Deadly Game by Christine Feehan
There was resistance, her body slick and welcoming but far too tight, and in spite of her breathy little pants and pleading moans, her muscles tried to lock out his invasion. The reaction only added to his excitement and need to possess her, heightening his pleasure as he forced his shaft deeper, the muscles reluctantly, and barely, parting for him, squeezing hard against the scars, dragging across the damaged nerve endings until he felt fire sizzling up and down his spine.
"Wrap your legs around my waist." He loved looking at her, feasting on the sight of her body spread out before him like a never-ending buffet. Her eyes were glazed with need, her hair wild and spilling like strands of silk across the pillow. A sheen made her breasts seem to glow, creamy flesh with tight nipples begging attention and his cross glittering on her skin. He loved her tucked-in waist and the flare of her hips, but mostly he loved the soft little sounds of desperation that came from her throat as her body turned to liquid fire around his. "You're so fucking beautiful, Mari."
He bent forward to kiss her neck, the action deliberately producing an electrifying friction over her most sensitive spot. He sucked on the little pulse beating in her throat, dipped lower to find her breast, and did the same thing, feeling the answering wash of her hot cream make his next thrust easier. His teeth and tongue spent time worshiping there, while he waited for her tight body to accept the invasion of his.
"Please," she whispered urgently, her body thrusting up toward his, as he sank once again into her and held still, savoring the feel of her body surrounding his.
"Shh, I'll make it good for you, sweetheart. You need a little time to catch up."
"I am caught up," she protested, her voice breathy. Her body was already edgy with need. She didn't want to wait. She needed the feel of him filling her, crushing her, driving into her so high she would never come down.
Every squirm of her body sent shock waves washing over him. She was too tight, too small for his size, but that only served to increase his pleasure. He needed the feeling of a tight fist gripping and squeezing, raking at his scarred shaft with fiery heat, in order to get release. "You make me so damned hard, Mari." She did. One touch. One look. She was everything he could ever want in a woman. She wasn't afraid of his unusual needs--she met fire with fire. Even when he held her down, her body responded to his with a wild, almost desperate need.
His thigh muscles cramped with the effort to hold back. Every cell in his body screamed at him to take her fast and hard and as rough as possible, giving him maximum pleasure. His breath came in harsh, bursting gasps. He wanted this different. He wanted to be gentle. Gentle didn't work with his body, but she deserved so much more--a slow, tender lover, one coaxing her body into submission, not driving into her and taking by force what she was already willing to give.
He moved slow, testing his body, a long push through the hot, wet folds. The sensation was pleasant, but there was no real fire, no blaze of passion beyond his imagination. A groan escaped, a soft hiss of need he couldn't stop.
She locked her legs around his waist and pushed against him with frantic need. "Ken. Please."
That ragged little plea was his undoing, shattering his control and stealing his heart. He brought his hand down hard on her bottom, feeling the flare of heat rush through her, the wash of rich cream bathing his shaft in response. "You don't mind so well, Mari. We need to work on that."
"You're too slow."
"And I said I was going to make it good for you. Behave yourself." He wasn't certain he could do slow another stroke, teasing her body into compliance, but just to show her things would be done his way, he managed one more.
She cried out beneath him, locking her fingers on his shoulders, nails digging into him so that his nerve endings responded with a shock of electricity. He caught her hips and jerked her forward and up into him, angling her body to take more, take his full length. He wanted to bury every inch of himself in her, merge them so close together no one would ever be able to untangle them.
The moment he slammed his body into hers, driving deep, driving home, he forgot every good intention. His hips pis-toned, his fingers dug into her firm buttocks to bring her body up to his. It was heaven to be in her narrow sheath, seemingly made just to rub over his scars and bring his cock to virile life. He could live here for hours, pushing her beyond every sexual limit she had ever conceived of, bringing her again and again to the peak of release, only to back off to hear her soft little pleas for mercy and see the lust building and building in her dark eyes.
She moaned his name, yanked at his hair, writhed under him, her legs locked in a tight grip as if she'd never let him go. She rose up to meet each stroke, crying out, driving him crazy with the way her small, hot muscles gripped him and her body was so eager for his. She had invaded every cell in his body, every bone, and his every organ, until he knew, no matter how long he lived, she would be the only woman he would ever crave.
The knowledge was alarming, terrifying, definitely dangerous, but there was no changing how he felt. His emotions were wrapped up every bit as tight and strong as his lust for her. The heat kept building, until he swore his semen was boiling in his balls, until lights flashed behind his eyelids and his mind roared with the fury of his desire. His cock swelled to bursting, pushing at the tight walls of her channel confining and constricting him, forcing the velvet heat over his scars until currents of pleasure swamped his nerve endings and ripped through his body.
Mari screamed and buried her face in his chest to muffle the cries as her body rippled and pulsed and shuddered with her orgasm, the muscles clamping down, convulsing around him, drawing out jet after jet of his hot release. Her orgasm seemed endless, her body rippling around his, at first hard and strong and then with more gentle aftershocks.
They lay together, locked in each other's arms, trying to find a way to breathe when their lungs were starved for air and their bodies were covered with a fine sheen of sweat. He kept his hand in her hair, fingers lazily massaging her scalp while his heart quieted and he felt strangely at peace.
"I could lie with you forever, Mari, just like this."
She smiled, her hands sliding possessively over his back. "I was thinking the same thing."
He shifted to take his weight from her, reluctantly leaving the haven of her body but wrapping an arm around her to bring her onto her side facing him. He loved the way her nipples were so erect and hard, an invitation lying against the sweet, swelling flesh.
"You deserve gentle, Mari," he said softly, kissing her as tenderly as he knew how. "I can't feel when I do gentle. God help me, I want to feel you when I'm deep inside you. I try to pull back, in my mind I try, but the need to feel you around me, to be that close to you, wins out and I can't do gentle."
"I didn't ask you to."
"There are marks all over you. I can't touch you without leaving behind bruises and little bite marks." He stroked a caress across her breast, tugged at her nipple, and was rewarded with her sharply drawn breath.
"I left a few scratches and bite marks on you," she reminded him, weaving her fingers together behind his neck, offering her breasts to his attention. "I'll tell you if you get too rough."
He couldn't resist the invitation and licked at one pert nipple, stroking his tongue over it and then tugging gently with his teeth. "I came here to comfort you, to hold you, not take you like this, in this horrible place. I want to take you home, baby, somewhere safe, far away from here. Come home with me. I swear, I had no intentions of doing anything but holding you in my arms."
A moan escaped when his mouth closed over her breast and he suckled, his mouth pulling strongly while his teeth teased and his tongued laved. "I want to go home with you." The words sounded strangled. His hand had slipped down her belly to rest at the junction between her legs.
"I could sneak you out of here," he tempted, his tongue flicking wickedly. Two fingers stroked along her pulsing entrance.
"All of the girls have to go." Her body jumped under the contact, hi
He kissed her left breast and moved on to the right, this time pushing deep with his hand until she was riding him. They didn't have much time left together, and he would have to walk away and leave her locked up at Whitney's mercy. It was a terrifying thought, one that tied his belly in tight, hard knots. "After, will you come to Montana with me and see our home?" He stilled his hand, his mouth, his breath--waiting.
A heartbeat went by. She pushed against his fingers, trying for relief but he didn't move. "Is my sister there?"
"When we know it's safe, Jack will bring her there. It's their home as well, but I don't want you to come for Briony. I want you to come for me. No matter what, Briony is going to want to see you. She made us both promise to find you and bring you back to her." He suckled again, feeling the wash of her liquid response over his hand, and his fingers began their slow assault once more.
"I'm terrified of meeting her, Ken." She couldn't quite find her breath, but she never, never wanted him to stop. Lying in the dark with his hands and mouth roaming her body made her feel as if she belonged somewhere. This was for her, this slow, gentle wash of pleasure, completely for her and she knew it.
"You shouldn't be. She wants to love you, Mari. She wants her sister back. And she'll welcome the rest of your family. Briony is a generous, compassionate woman and courageous enough to take on my brother." His hand moved in earnest, thumb and fingers stroking caresses over every sensitive spot until she could feel the tension building and building all over again.
"As long as Whitney's alive, she'll be in danger."
"But not because of you. He had her adopted parents killed, and he tried to kidnap her the moment he found out she was pregnant."
"I can't believe she's going to have a baby." Her breath was coming in gasps.
"She couldn't believe it either. Whitney's team of supersoldiers did some damage to the house, but we've repaired it." Now his fingers were truly wicked, exploring and teasing and never quite giving her what she needed.
Mari tried to push harder against his hand, to trap him into giving her release. "He promised me that as long as I cooperated with him, he'd leave Briony alone."
Ken's teeth tugged at her nipple in a gentle punishment. "He never left her alone. He kept tabs on her all these years. He outlined her education and insisted on his own doctor treating her for all illnesses. Whitney lied about Briony just as he lied all those years to Lily."
"I feel so bad for Lily. It's a terrible thing to find out your entire childhood is built on a house of cards." His fingers pushed deep, withdrew, then pushed against her clit until she wanted to sob with pleasure. She closed her eyes.
Ken leaned down and kissed her belly button. It was so like Mari to be concerned for Lily. Mari who had no childhood, who had been treated like a grown soldier before she could barely walk. "Look at me, sweetheart. Open your eyes and look into mine."
His voice was low and commanding and Mari's lashes lifted. Her gaze met his, saw the absolute possession there, the stark need and the stamp of ruthless control mixed with something that could be love. She'd never seen the emotion, so she wasn't certain that was what she was seeing, but she kept her gaze locked with his when he took her over the edge and had her crying out his name.
CHAPTER 17
It rained parachutes last night, Jack announced. Our boys showed up, and a beautiful sight they were floating down from the sky.
Who do we have? Ken asked.
Logan, of course, Neil Campbell. Jesse Calhoun is coordinating and arranging backup in case anything goes wrong.
That surprised Ken. Jesse Calhoun was a valued member of the team, but he had been seriously wounded and was in a wheelchair. Mainly he ran the investigations.
Trace Aikens and Martin Howard are here as well. Jack named the last two members of their GhostWalker SEAL team. No one wanted to be left out. You're a very popular man, Ken.
It took a moment for him to realize Jack wasn't joking, and it shocked Ken. He had trained with the men and they fought together, worked, and even at times lived together, but he had never realized their loyalties extended to him and his brother. Jack and he had always been a little apart, and often other men were leery of them.
Ken cleared his throat, thankful no one could see him. Emotion was playing far too big a part with him these days. They all in place?
Everyone's in position.
Has any word come down on the senator? Ken asked.
Senator Freeman asked to have Ryland's team guarding him when he visited "a high security facility today," Jack reported. The general did initially give the order, then an hour later rescinded it and gave the assignment to another team.
Son of a bitch. Whitney has even more pull than we suspected. Who could go over the top of the general?
Ken sat in the narrow corridor inside the cement wall. The fourth level was far more massive than he had ever considered it could be. It had originally been built as a secret military base before it had been closed down. Whitney had obviously discovered it and either bought it or persuaded his backers to allow him to use it for his experiments. There were very few in the know about the existence of the GhostWalkers. Whitney's front men were able to find a way to hide his work from the various committees who would have objected strenuously to his inhumane and illegal experiments.
I don't know who could countermand one of the general's orders. The president certainly, Jack responded. The secretary of defense. But I can't see either of them mixed up with a nutcase like Whitney. He's too unstable, and the kinds of things he's doing would rock the nation--the world--if it came out. No president would risk being associated with him if they knew what he's done to children and women.
That was true. Ken couldn't see anyone risking their political career. Hell, they'd face jail time, if not the death penalty, right along with Whitney. Mari alone would attest to the rape and murder of several women.
There was no sense in speculating. Ryland would have to approach the general, and if that went nowhere, then it would be up to the members of Ryland's team to find out whom they could trust.
Rear Admiral Henderson, the man responsible for the SEAL GhostWalker team, was already under investigation--of course he wasn't aware of it--and if they found no evidence against him, they'd never tell him. Jesse Calhoun was working hard to find out who had betrayed their team and sent them into the Congo.
Ken looked carefully around the walls of his tomb of cement. Ever since leaving Mari, he had been busy, marking the way so Cami could lead the other women out once Mari gave the signal to escape. He had tried to find Whitney's rooms and private tunnels so he could recover the pictures of the women, but it seemed impossible when the concrete dead-ended so often and was hazardous in most places to get through.
Has Logan got the blueprints on this compound yet? Ken wanted to destroy the pictures of the women Whitney had been taking for years. More, he wanted to put a bullet in Whitney's head. Since it's a former military base, he should have been able to access them with the admiral's clearance. If not, put Lily on it. She seems to be able to get anything she wants. The Whitney name works wonders, Ken said.
Logan tracked them down. They're studying them now. They're set up to make the rescue when the senator is here. We're going to have to push our timetable forward. There's no doubt that Whitney is going to arrange an accident of some kind for Senator Freeman and his wife.
Maybe, Ken mused. But he wouldn't want an investigation anywhere near this place. I don't think he'll hit the senator here. I think he'll make his try either before or after he leaves. He'd be stupid to bring a firestorm down on his laboratory, and the one thing Whitney isn't--is stupid.
He has to make it look like an accident this time, Jack said. Get word to Marigold and tell her if she can warn Violet,
No. Absolutely not, Jack. Ken was adamant. He crawled on his belly, careful of the sharp rebar sticking out of the walls, dragging his legs up and away from it. It was easy to lose oneself in the labyrinth, and Mari had been working on a new escape plan with the other women, as they feared they'd told Sean too much.
We don't have a choice. Violet has to know what she's up against. We don't have a team in place to protect him. If he's really Whitney's enemy . . .
Ken sent Jack the impression of disgust. No. I'm not risking Mari. She's taken enough risks in this hellhole. If Violet is undercover for Whitney, then Mari's dead.
And if she isn't, the senator is dead, Jack reminded him from his vantage point on the bluff. The air was cool. He wished he could send it to his brother trapped like a rat in the walls of Whitney's prison.
That's not my problem. Frankly, I'm not risking her life for anyone connected to Senator Freeman. I don't trust him or his wife. I'm not risking Mari. I've gone as far as I'm willing to go for her family. We're getting them out today, because if Sean doesn't die today, he'll be back tonight. I'll kill him and be done with it, and Mari will know what a bastard I am. That won't be good, because she'll decide she doesn't want me and then I'll have to kidnap her and try to change her mind.
Jack sighed. You've gone caveman on me, bro.
Mari has that effect on me. And, by the way, Briony will be really upset if anything happens to Mari, and that will impact your life, so just get over having Mari warn Violet.
Man, you're edgy. Chill out.
Ken frowned. He was edgy. He didn't want to leave Mari alone in that cell, locked up and trapped like a rabbit in a cage, when Sean might come back at any moment. He forced his mind to concentrate on the business at hand. Speaking of the sick, twisted freak, have you caught sight of the bastard?
Jack gave a short, expressive snort. Um, that would a negative. I've never actually seen Sean.
I sent you an image.
Tails and horns aren't exactly the real deal, Ken. You gave me a picture of the devil.
Ken made a rude noise, accompanying it with an even ruder gesture his brother couldn't see but would know he'd done anyhow. I did my best to nudge Sean into making a try against Whitney. With a little luck, he'll kill the doctor, and Whitney's men will do him, and we can just write them both off. Thanks for helping out last night.