Spider Game
Page 39

 Christine Feehan

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Watching his expression, slowly, inch by slow inch, she lowered her head to his. Her mouth skimmed. Gently. A whisper of touch. Featherlight. Back and forth over his lips. Unexpectedly, she brushed a kiss over each of his eyes and trailed more along his cheekbone, and then used the tip of her tongue, as if tasting his skin. He had no idea why that moved him, but he felt those little touches, not in his burning cock, but in the region of his heart.
Before he could say anything, her mouth settled over his. He gave her that first press of her tongue into his mouth. His heart jerked hard in his chest. That touch he felt in his cock. The feel of her lips, the small, moist invasion, stroking along his tongue, so tentative. He swore her mouth was a match and she just lit a powder keg.
He couldn’t wrap his arms around her, but he took over the kiss and she let him. He liked kissing her. No, he actually loved kissing her. She gave herself to him, pouring her taste and need right down his throat. He took everything she gave and demanded more. He wanted her as hot for him as he was for her.
I am. There was a little sobbing note in her voice. I want you, but I’m not coming to you until I’m not so scared. I have to trust you, and I don’t know how to trust.
That little admission tore him up. It’s all right, baby, you take what you need from me. I have patience. Just know that a little fear can add to the excitement of what we’re doing here. He gave her that because it was necessary to soothe her some way and he couldn’t hold her in his arms to give her reassurance. Cayenne deserved comfort. He couldn’t imagine how afraid she must have been every day of her life in that laboratory with guards surrounding her and men’s fear of her beating at her.
You aren’t afraid of me. I paralyzed you. I would do it again if you scared me too much. She lifted her head reluctantly as she made the admission, her green gaze moving over his face broodingly, as if she couldn’t quite believe he wasn’t afraid and she was looking for the truth.
He realized she was afraid of herself, of what she might do, and he needed to give her the confidence to keep going, to claim his body for her own. She didn’t know she was claiming his heart. She needed to learn to trust herself much more than she needed to trust him at this point. He could give her that as well.
CHAPTER 8
Trap held Cayenne’s gaze. She was definitely affected by his kisses. Her breasts rose and fell fast now, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He was fairly certain if she didn’t move, the spot where the junction of her legs rested on his chest really was going to melt right through the silken ties.
Baby, you’re my woman. That means I’m your man. No matter how afraid you get, you’re not really going to harm me. I could never hurt you. Not for any reason, although – deliberately he narrowed his eyes – I intend to retaliate over that bite. My woman doesn’t paralyze me and then leave me for Wyatt and the boys to tease mercilessly. You just left me there alone.
You weren’t alone, and I checked on you.
I told you not to come to Wyatt’s home. You could have been shot. That had scared him when he realized she’d come back to the Fontenot home after he’d warned her away. He’d reached out to Ezekiel and warned him, asking him to allow her through.
Trap had sensed her need, a terrible, dark need welling up so strong that in the end she’d awakened not only Nonny, but Wyatt and the other team members as well. She hadn’t known she was broadcasting such distress because they stayed away and allowed him to comfort her on his own, but they knew and it upset all of them on her behalf.
“Touch yourself.”
Her long lashes fluttered. She sank back on his chest, straddling him, her knees on either side of his ribs, her green gaze on his face. He could see she was tempted to follow his instructions, but he realized if she did it, she’d comply because he asked her, not because she realized how it would make her body feel.
“Cup your breasts, baby.” He kept his voice low. Gentle. Seductive. His heart pounded while he waited for her to make up her mind.
Very slowly she brought her palms up under her breasts. His breath left his body in a rush. Just that action sent damp heat spilling from between her legs to moisten the silk and his chest where her sex was pressed to him.
“That’s beautiful, Cayenne. See how beautiful you are? Tug on your nipples. Stroke them. Pull. Imagine my hands on you. That’s what I’m doing. My hands are big. I can be a little rough. Do you like it rough or gentle? Which makes your body come alive? Are your breasts sensitive?”
She followed his instructions to the letter, her fingers gentle, then rougher. Pinching. Tugging. Rolling. It was so hot watching her he was afraid his cock would explode. He followed the movement with his fist wrapped tightly around his thick shaft. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and she threw her head back.
“Feel good, baby? That’s what I’d do to you, but more. Now lean toward me. Feed me your right breast, but keep working on your left nipple.”
She didn’t stop what she was doing, but she hesitated before she again did as he asked, scooting up his chest, dragging her hot entrance over him, leaving a trail of moist heat in her wake. A moan slipped up her throat as the silk massaged her sex, adding to the burn building in her. She leaned slowly toward him, watching his face as if mesmerized by the dark lust she saw there. Her nipple teased his closed lips, sliding along the seam. Watching her closely, he opened his mouth and curled his tongue around the offering.
Her breath slammed out of her body, her fingers pinching her other nipple hard. She was more than sensitive. He swore he could feel a spasm between her legs through the silk holding him captive. He drew her breast into his mouth, his teeth tugging on her nipple, and then he flattened his tongue and drove it to the roof of his mouth. Before she could catch her breath, he suckled hard. Deep. Using teeth, tongue and the heated moist interior of his mouth, he drove her up fast.
She cried out, a small sound somewhere between fear and need. Instantly he pulled back, licking her nipple lightly, his mouth wandering over the soft mound, occasionally stopping to suck on her soft skin, raising bright red brands.
She smoothed back his hair, breathing hard. “Is it always like that?”
“It gets better, baby. This is just a small taste of what it will be like when you’re in my bed.”
Her eyes were enormous. Shocked. Hungry. Definitely wanting more.
“Tell me what you’re feeling? Do you like this?”