Spider Game (46 page)

Read Spider Game Online

Authors: Christine Feehan

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Romance

BOOK: Spider Game
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“Open your thighs wide, baby,” he ordered softly.

Cayenne did so immediately, spreading her legs wide for him, her eyes on his.

“I want you looking at me. Just like that. I want to see your eyes, Cayenne. I need to see your expression.”

Her small tongue slipped out. Moistened her lips. He groaned at the sight of her gleaming lips. So wet for him. His gaze dropped lower. Between her legs. She was wet there for him as well. He knew she would be. Cayenne lavished him with love. Gave and gave. He wanted more, and he was going to take it.

He pressed the burning head of his cock against her lips. She surprised him by kissing him. Not once, but several times. Her hands cupped his heavy sac, fingers caressing and stroking. The action lifted the lush curves of her breasts. Her nipples were tight little buds. It took willpower to resist their allure, but she was heavily bruised there and he didn’t want anything else to hurt her – ever. Even with the bruises fading so swiftly, he wasn’t about to take any chances of hurting her.

Her tongue slipped out of her mouth again and she licked over that broad, velvet head, making a little sound of happiness. His gut clenched hard. His cock jerked in anticipation. Her mouth engulfed him, tongue fluttering like butterfly wings along his shaft, the tip reaching that spot right under the crown. Pressing. Laving. She used broad strokes and then took him deep, released and did it again.

The sight of her loving him that way was almost too much. He was on fire. Fucking fire. Deep inside the ice melted, but the rage was gone, replaced by something altogether different. A molten volcano, buried deep beneath the glacier had begun to make its escape. The emotion erupting wasn’t anger or rage. It was just as deep, just as overwhelming, but it was a surge so powerful it shook him. Love. The emotion gripped him. Stunned him with its force.

She spread lightning through his veins. Her mouth scalded him. Sent pure fire spreading like a wild conflagration through him to come together in his cock. He reached for her head, two fists in her hair, tugging. She didn’t obey him. Her mouth tightened.

“I’m not coming in your mouth, Cayenne,” he said. “Fucking let go now.”

She smiled at him around a mouthful of cock. Her eyes smiled at him. Her mouth moved again, one long stroke that took him so deep his heart contracted. Her tongue teased up his shaft and then she let him go.

“On your hands and knees, facing away from me, right there on the edge of the bed.” His voice was hoarse. Who wouldn’t be? She loved touching him. Sucking him. Her hands caressed him, left him reluctantly. But she obeyed. She gave him that too. Because she was Cayenne. The woman created entirely for him.

He stood at the side of his bed, his eyes on her shapely ass. That was his too. All of her. Every damn inch. He couldn’t resist rubbing her buttocks, those firm, silky muscles and down her thighs. She was beautiful, on her knees, waiting for him, totally exposed. Totally vulnerable. Trusting him.

If you hurt at all, you tell me.
He waited.

I’ll tell you, honey. I swear. I need you right now.
 

That was it. Right there. She trusted him implicitly to give her pleasure, to see to her pleasure no matter what he did to her. That gift was beyond any price. He stepped close, so close he could feel the heat waiting for him. That scorching tunnel of silk waiting to surround and strangle him.

The thought was too much. He caught her hips and slammed home. The sensation of her scalding muscles gripping him so tightly as he invaded, as he drove so deep he felt the bump as he touched her womb. She screamed.

“Trap. That’s so good. Perfect. Like that. Do me just like that.”

“I’ll do you however I want.” He stayed buried in her. Holding her to him. Feeling those muscles trying to strangle him, pouring into her mind to ensure she wasn’t hurting anywhere. He wanted only pleasure for her.

She wiggled. “You have to move. I’m not going to survive if you don’t move. I need this too, honey. Please move. Hard. Rough. I want to feel you. Let go this time. Completely.”

“Baby.” The thought of that – of losing himself in her – was such a temptation. Too much of one.

He pulled back and surged forward. Hard. Deep. Again and again. Fire streaked up his body, sizzled along every nerve ending in tune to her ragged breathing and soft cries of pleasure. Her pleas became demands. He loved that when he took her hard and rough, she pushed back into him, eager for more. So eager, she made her own demands.

He pounded into her, and let the fire take him. Consume him. He lost himself in the sheer beauty of her body. In the love he had for her and the knowledge that she gave herself to him so completely. He could have her any way he needed her and she’d give him that.

She pushed back, meeting his every stroke. Hard. Her breath hissing out of her lungs. Her body gripping his hard. Taking him deep. The scorching silk surrounded him, that tight, fiery tunnel of sheer bliss. He felt the coiling tension in her, heard the change in her breathing, the moans that sounded like music to him, and he knew she was so close. The need to give that beautiful gift to her was in every loving stroke of his body.

Lust was there, but love was the most prevalent, overwhelming emotion, tied so tightly with his lust that he couldn’t separate the two. The emotion made every streak of lightning, every fiery flame rushing like a fireball through his body so much stronger, sharper and raw.

Her body clamped down on his. Her breath hissed out in a long scream of his name, triggering his own release. There was no holding back the volcano. His cock erupted, slamming deep inside of her, his seed splashing into her scorching channel, filling her, pushing her climax higher. His cock jerked hard, over and over, as she milked him violently for every drop her body could wring out of his.

He couldn’t move, his legs unsteady as he gripped her hips so she wouldn’t collapse onto her bruised chest. Clearly her body had healed quickly from the injury, leaving behind the discoloring, but she wasn’t nearly in as much pain as she should have been. He held her still until he could breathe again. Only then did he slowly pull out of her and guide her over onto her back. She sprawled out on the mattress, her breathing still ragged, her breasts heaving.

He followed her down and wrapped his arm tight around her waist. He pulled her into the protection of his body. He was completely sated, his cock limp and still feeling the burn of bliss. He pressed the length of him against her thigh.

“I have to clean up,” she said softly.

“Don’t. Go to sleep with me in you. I’m planting my babies in you. I want to go to sleep knowing that’s happening.” He murmured the order against the cloud of her dark hair.

“Trap. You’re getting arrogant. And bossy.” There was amusement in her voice, but she didn’t stir. Her body stayed tight against his.

“You make me that way, baby.” It was the strict truth. He knew he could have what he wanted, because she loved him and would give him anything.

She laughed softly, and the sound was like a miracle to him. “I’m in your mind right now and I’ll give you anything
within reason
. I like to be there when you’re inside me or when my mouth is wrapped around your cock. I like how I make you feel. It’s sexy and makes me feel especially good knowing I’m the one that makes you feel like that.”

“Baby,” he corrected, because it was the truth. “You’ll give me any fucking thing I ask you for. You think I don’t know you by now? You think I don’t know what’s the most important thing in your world? I know, because
you’re
the most important thing in mine. I’d give you the fucking world. You won’t do less. You’re far more giving than I am. So don’t try to fool me. I ask, you’re going to give it to me.”

She sighed. “You’re such a pain, Trap.”

“I know, baby. Go to sleep. You have about two hours and then I’m going to be waking you up again. I’ve got plans for you.”

“I’m injured,” she pointed out. Her voice was mild. Not a protest. She didn’t care that she was injured.

“There’s no need to remind me. It’s burned in my fucking brain, Cayenne. You keep bringing it up and I’m going to injure your beautiful ass for you.”

She laughed softly. “Trap, you’re so full of it. Even if you did, I’d have your cock two seconds later. That wouldn’t be much of a punishment.”

His hand cupped her face and turned it toward him. He didn’t want her to have any doubts about the man he was. “You’re right about that, baby. You’d have my cock. My mouth. My hands. But I wouldn’t give you release, and I wouldn’t let you give it to yourself either. Not for a long, long time. I don’t have to hurt you to punish you. I would
never,
under any circumstances hurt you. But you’d pay for making me relive that fucking moment over and over.”

She shivered. Her eyes went dark green. Sexy. Her tongue came out and licked her lips. Top and bottom. She pressed her body closer. “I’m not certain I could take that, Trap.”

“You’ll take it. And then I’ll make it so good for you that you’ll scream my name over and over. Never doubt that I’ll make it good for you.” His arm tightened. His fingers slid over her face gently. Tenderly. “I love you, Cayenne. So much. Maybe too much.”

She smiled and turned onto her side, facing away from him, pressing her bottom into his lap. “I love you that much too, Trap. Way more than is good for you.”

He needed that. Her loving him like that. He was clinging too hard. Needing too much, but she gave him that. He knew, with time, he could ease back, but right now, with danger surrounding her, with his past so close, he couldn’t let go. As always, he knew, she would give him exactly what he needed. He waited to sleep until he felt her body relax completely and her breathing even out. Then he followed her.

 

Cayenne’s heart pounded hard. She wanted to bolt. It took every ounce of self-control she had not to lean over and bite Nonny, paralyze her and escape out the window. Other than Trap, no one had ever fussed over her. She wasn’t used to being the center of attention. The dress felt foreign on her body. It was beautiful, no doubt about that. Trap always provided her with the best of everything.

Her wardrobe had grown significantly. She didn’t know why. They lived in the swamp, away from most people. Nonny and Pepper were her only friends, and they wore jeans most of the time like she did. Well, Pepper, when all three women had a little too much of Nonny’s homemade strawberry wine, had confessed she wore long skirts so she didn’t have to wear underwear and Wyatt could catch her anywhere in the house and have his way with her. It was an exciting game between them finding a hiding spot surrounded by their family. At home, Cayenne rarely wore clothes. If she did, it was a shirt, but she supposed once she had children, long skirts might just be the perfect attire.

“You look beautiful,” Nonny said.

Cayenne smoothed her hand down the white silk dress that clung to her curves and dropped to the floor in panels of beads and lace. She couldn’t fault the gown. It was exquisite. It fit perfectly. She wanted Trap to see her in it, but he wasn’t the only one out there waiting for her. Pepper and Nonny were standing up for her. Draden and Wyatt were standing for Trap.

The triplets, dressed in long ruffled peach gowns, raced around the room, so excited they couldn’t keep still. Everyone was waiting, and she couldn’t move. She was frozen to the spot and near tears. She couldn’t walk out there with everyone watching. It wasn’t just Wyatt’s team – men she was familiar with – and that would have been hard enough. Wyatt’s brother Gator was there with his wife, Flame, and several members of Gator’s team. All strangers. Flame was nice. Very nice and she seemed understanding. But to have all of them staring at her…

Her palms hurt. She closed her fingers, forming a fist, her palm covered. She could feel the needles going through her skin, penetrating deep. Pinning her down. An insect. She felt venom rising. Her mouth hurt from keeping her lips clamped tight.

“Cayenne?” Nonny’s voice sounded far away.

Trap.
She reached out telepathically. He wasn’t supposed to see her before the ceremony. She knew that. Knew they would all disapprove, but she needed him. She was desperate for his strength.

Baby. What is it?
 

She clung to his mind, knew he was surrounded by his friends. All the men he knew. Still, he answered her immediately.

I can’t…
She trailed off. She could marry him. Just not like this. Not with everyone staring at her like she was an insect under a microscope. She wasn’t a true arachnid because she didn’t have eight legs. But still, she preferred that to the
insect
that all the men liked to call her. If they were referring to the spider in her, they should at least get that part right.

The door swung open and he filled the space, his wide shoulders and tall frame taking nearly every inch of it up. He was dressed in a black tuxedo and he looked gorgeous, the most handsome man she could possibly imagine. He took her breath away. Nonny scowled at him. Pepper tried to shoo him out. The little girls screeched a welcome and ran to throw arms around his legs. His hands automatically went to the girls’ hair, but he didn’t look at any of them. Only her. Only Cayenne, as if she was all he could see.

The terrible burning in her lungs eased, and for the first time in hours she felt she could draw air all the way in. He absently patted the girls on their heads and then, eyes still on her face, strode right in, closing the door behind him, muting the noise and blocking all view of her to their guests.

“Baby,” he said softly, as if they were the only two people in the room. His voice was black velvet, intimate. Brushing over her skin like the pads of his fingers. Featherlight, but commanding. His voice steadied her instantly. “Talk to me.”

She swallowed hard, feeling a coward. He needed this from her, and she always wanted to please him, to make him happy. She knew this was important to him, but she couldn’t make her feet move. Trap had called a reporter he sometimes talked to, one he respected more than most. He’d given him the scoop that one of the world’s most eligible bachelors was off the market and getting married in a few days. There was a picture of the two of them, smiling at each another, and a brief write-up on her, with a background she still was memorizing.

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