Murder Game (30 page)

She crawled over the bed, over him, a sensuous slide of skin against skin, her head dipping to lap at him as she moved over the top of him. Her long hair teased his hips and chest as she began to rub the oil into his front. She paid particular attention to his bruises, adding featherlight kisses to help with healing. She dipped her head again to trace circles with her tongue over his chest and nipples, teeth scraping gently, teasing and tugging while his stomach bunched into tight knots and his shaft swelled to bursting.

She moved down his flat belly, rubbing along the defined muscles there, following with strokes of her tongue. His breath hissed out when she moved over his thighs, the insides, the backs of her hands sliding over his sac, now so tight and coiled, so ready he couldn’t stop the little pulses rocking his cock.

Her hands finished with his feet and moved back up his legs in a slow glide. His breath strangled in his throat, trying to anticipate what she might do next. She reached casually for the glass of ice water she’d set on the small table by the bed and took a long drink. His entire body went on alert, every nerve ending coming alive, as her naked body slid up his. She wrapped her arms around his hips and lowered her head, again with that painful slowness, her long hair teasing his skin.

Her mouth slid over him like a glove, and his entire body arched in reaction, hips bucking wildly at the explosive combination of fire and ice. She sucked hard, flicking at the sensitive mushroom head with her cold tongue. The cinnamon burst around him and through him, inflaming his senses. If it was possible, his shaft thickened, every drop of blood in his body racing to gather into one point.

He caught her hair in his hands, tangling his fingers in the silken strands in warning. He couldn’t take much more without exploding. His breath came in ragged gasps, and he knew that in another minute he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from taking back control. Her mouth was too effective, driving him beyond all limits.

Just as he reached for her, she sat up and straddled him, dropping her body, so slick and tight and hot, over his, so that he filled her, pushing through glorious silken folds and lodging deep. She rose above him, the shadows from the candlelight flickering lovingly over her body as she began a languorous, sensuous ride. He could see the lines of her body, her head thrown back, eyes closed, throat exposed, and an expression of pure ecstasy on her face as her muscles worked him, while she rode up and down with that same slow purpose she’d been taunting him with since he came out of the shower.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his hands going to her breasts.

He’d never forget this night or the way she looked. She’d loved him with every touch of her hands, with her mouth and now her body. She’d loved him and he felt it and knew what the word meant, what the emotion was.
Love.
He tasted the word and it tasted like cinnamon—like Tansy.

I have nothing else to give you. Only me, only my body, only the way I feel about you.

Tansy wanted this night to be perfect, her gift to be the ultimate expression of love. He had sacrificed for her, risked his life, and come back to her expecting nothing in return. This was all she had to show him what he meant to her.

You’re everything to me.
And he meant it, filling her mind with the way he felt, with the overwhelming intensity of his emotions for her.

She lifted her body leisurely, as if she had all the time in the world, rolling one way and then the other, moving her hips in small circles as she slid up and then down, inch by inch, filling herself with the hard, thick length of him. His shaft was scorching, fiery-hot, hard, like velvet over steel, stretching and filling her to bursting. Going so slow, she could feel every inch of him, the friction sending streaks of pleasure up through her body, spreading to her thighs and breasts in waves.

She opened her eyes to look at him and found him watching her through half-closed, glittering eyes. The emotion was stark and raw and so intense her vaginal walls rippled in response and her heart gave a funny flip. He looked at her with more than just dark lust; he looked at her as if she were the only one in his world. She could see a kind of worship in his eyes. His breath came in ragged pants and she felt the dig of his fingers into her hips.

A slow smile teased her mouth. “You really like this, don’t you?”

Kadan wasn’t certain he could get a sound out through his clenched teeth.
Hell yeah.
It was the best he could do when her tight sheath gripped and suckled, hotter than he’d ever known. He wanted the ride to be hard and fast, to grip and pound into her; the slow pace was killing him by degrees, but how could he give up the sensation of pure pleasure washing over and over him as she lifted her body and worked her muscles?

She rose again, a sultry, sensuous move that took his breath as she lowered herself again, her hips twisting into a tight roll that nearly destroyed him. His fingers dug into her hips hard, thighs bunched as he drove hard upward to meet that downward spiral. Lightning streaked again and his balls tightened painfully, her muscles tight and hot and strangling him.

He was done. At his end. He flexed his hands once, her only warning, and then he took control, lifting her with his enormous strength, driving her down onto him hard, tearing through those tight folds over and over, pounding into her the way he needed. He hit the back of her cervix and kept plunging deep and hard, using his strength and his speed. Her womb spasmed around him and the walls rippled and pulsed. Still he drove into her, hammering out a rhythm that took her over the edge fast.

He felt her shudder, felt her body clamp down on his. He refused to let it end for either of them, driving her to a second orgasm before the first subsided. Her muscles locked down, milking him hard, so that he couldn’t stop the violent explosion, tearing up past his legs, centering in his groin, flooding her deep with his hot release. Her keening cry echoed more in his mind than through the room, but his hoarse cry of satisfaction joined the soft sound.

Kadan wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down over him like a soft, living blanket as the walls of her sheath continued to ripple powerfully around him.

Tansy.
He whispered her name, his soft voice shaky with emotion even in her mind.
How can I ever go back to living without you?
He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

She’d given him more than the most erotic experience he’d ever known; she’d given him a gift that was beyond measure. She hadn’t held back anything from him. She’d poured everything she was into their lovemaking. She’d given the gift of herself—of her love.

He rocked her gently, trying to regain control of his breathing, of his scattered wits. Around his, her body continued to rock with small aftershocks. He could feel the little shudders that went through her and the way she struggled to breathe. He rubbed his way down her back, massaged the curves of her buttocks, kissed his way along her shoulder and neck.

When she was quieter, he rolled her over, still buried deep, and found her mouth with his. His kissed her with everything he was, with every bit of tenderness he could manage. He was never a gentle man, and he certainly could never articulate in words the depth of his feeling for her, or his appreciation of what she’d given him, but he tried to show her, kissing her over and over, taking her mouth and giving her his own while his hands stroked caresses in her hair.

“Where in the hell did you get that oil?” He rolled to his side, allowing his body to separate from hers, tucking her close to him.

“I made it.” She brushed his hair from his face. “Did you like it?”

He turned his head to kiss her fingers. “You know I loved it, Tansy. What do you mean you made it?”

“I don’t suppose you noticed all the flower gardens on the estate? When I was a little girl my mother tried to think of things we could do together that would be fun, girly, and didn’t involve touching. So we gardened at first. I had my own little garden that really grew into a huge project. I loved being outdoors with her. She’d talk about all the different plants and their different uses historically. She mentioned perfume and oils and I was intrigued. She always smelled so good, and she told me how my dad took her to this perfume shop and had a special scent made just for her. I decided I wanted to do that myself.”

He nuzzled her neck. She smelled delicious. “So you did.”

She nodded, turning her head just a bit to give him better access. Maybe it was because she’d been deprived of human touch for so long that she craved his hands on her, but she wanted to feel his palm cupping her breasts, his thumb stroking back and forth over her nipple and his mouth skimming the hollow of her shoulder.

“I did. And I discovered that different oils could be bases used for different purposes. Arnica can help with bruising and is great for massages. Grapeseed is a great moisturizer. There are so many natural oils and herbs and flowers that can be used for all sorts of uses while also creating great fragrances. The cinnamon is my favorite, and fortunately I found a way to make it absorb, taste, and smell good.”

“And you just happened to carry candles in your pack as well?” He leaned over and blew them out, then lay back, licking at her shoulder and then teasing with his teeth, producing a little shiver.

“I was camping and light tends to hurt my eyes, so as a rule I keep a box in my backpack. They aren’t terribly fancy, but they do the trick.”

There was a small silence. He could hear the clock ticking. He inhaled the scent of her, taking it deeper into his lungs, and nuzzled her breast. She never pulled away from him, as he half expected her to do. Instead, her body welcomed his, warm and so soft, always inviting. He could barely breathe with loving her. She thawed something frozen in him when she was close. He hadn’t expected it to be like this, but there was no going back.

Thank you.
He couldn’t say it out loud. He would have choked on the words.

She looked at him, her gaze drifting over his face, seeing more than he wanted her to. “For what?” Her fingertip traced his lips.

For making me feel like I have someone to come home to.
Hell. He was choking up anyway. Fuck it.
For loving me.
He despised being so inept with words, not when she deserved so much better, but it was the best he could do with his throat raw and his eyes burning.

“I do love you,” she said, rolling over to sprawl on top of him, framing his face with her hands. She kissed him, sliding her tongue along his lips, and, when he opened, into his mouth, to tangle in a slow, leisurely dance with his. “I didn’t think I would, but who could ever resist you?”

“I want to be inside you again,” he whispered. “I need to be. Slide down my body and get me hard, baby.”

He was already coming back fast, but she didn’t hesitate, kissing her way down his chest until her hands cupped his sac, stroking upward, and her mouth closed over him, tight and hot.

Kadan came alive instantly under the growing experience of her fantasy mouth. He made love to her again, as gently as he could for as long as he could, but inevitably, he grew rough and hard, plunging deeper and faster, riding her with everything he was. It didn’t matter that he took them both over the edge again. His body might be temporarily sated, but his mind would never be. Touching her, loving her, was a miracle.

He curled his body around hers, his arm possessively around her waist, and listened to her breathing. He could spend a lifetime holding her close. He waited, there in the dark, with the scent of cinnamon and sex hanging in the air, until she was in a deep sleep. Very gently he pressed a kiss against the nape of her neck and removed her hand from over the top of his. Rolling carefully off the bed, he pulled on his jeans and a shirt and dragged his belt with his weapons and a few supplies around his waist before slipping out of the room.

Ryland was waiting for him in the hall. “Took you long enough.”

“I wanted to make certain she was asleep in case this goes bad.”

Ryland nodded. “We’ll have to make entry from outside. He’s barricaded the door.”

Kadan shrugged. “He’s not stupid, but he’s so full of shit. He’s up to his ears in Whitney’s mess. The wife is clean though. I could read her and she despises Whitney. I think the only real source of contention in their marriage has been Whitney.”

“So she wanted to take Tansy to a different doctor and her husband refused,” Ryland said. “I wonder why he would do that.” He frowned and leaned close to Kadan, sniffing. “Cinnamon?”

“Shut the hell up,” Kadan snapped and pushed past him.

Ryland took another whiff and gave a low whistle. “You smell yummy. I’m getting hungry. Maybe cinnamon buns.”

Kadan flipped him off rudely.

Nico stood waiting by the front door. As always he was their backup. He frowned when the two GhostWalkers got close. “What the hell is that smell?”

“Kadan’s new spicy cologne.”

“Go to hell, Rye,” Kadan said and shot him a look that should have withered him on the spot. “Both of you can go to hell.”

“I think his blood sugar’s dropping,” Ryland explained. “Must have been all the cinnamon candy he got tonight.”

Nico put on an innocent face. “That woman of yours smells a little like cinnamon.”

“Makes you hungry, doesn’t it?” Ryland said.

“Yep. Can’t wait to tell Dahlia about this one. The ice man gets all hot and bothered around cinnamon spice. Who would have guessed?”

“Don’t make me shoot you.” Kadan yanked open the front door. “Because I’ll do you both in a heartbeat and never look back.”

Ryland smirked at him, not in the least intimidated. He began humming a tune overly loud under his breath.

Kadan shot him a look of intense irritation. “What are you doing now?”

Nico nudged him. “Don’t you know that tune? I’d think it was your favorite. You’re such a music cretin. Neil Young wrote some great songs.” When Kadan still looked blank, Nico sang the lyrics while Ryland hummed.
“I wanna live with a cinnamon girl . . .”