Reckless Road

by Feehan, Christine

  At night, when she was alone, she still felt him sliding into her, pushing through her tight folds, his piercing blue gaze staring into hers like he was seeing into her soul. He’d been a miracle, a feast of pure pleasure she hadn’t thought possible, and there was no forgetting the many ways he had taken her, shocking her at times but always giving her such pleasure, she had been more than willing to repeat the experience again and again with him.

  He caught her wrists and held them down against the mattress. Even that, the way he shackled her wrists and pinned her, like a captive, his grip unbreakable yet so incredibly gentle she knew he wouldn’t leave one single mark on her skin. She almost wanted him to. When they’d had one night together, he’d been wild, leaving marks of possession all over her with his hands and his teeth. He would go from gentle to rough. From sweet to wild. She loved every single second with him. He’d set up such an addiction that even now, knowing he held himself away from her, her heart beat wildly and her body went liquid with urgent hunger.

  “I know I hurt you with the careless shit I said to you.”

  His blue eyes stared directly into hers, so that it was impossible to look away no matter how much she wanted to. It didn’t matter that she was hurt and even angry with him—he was always going to be that man she responded to. His eyes were no longer cold but fiery blue flames, fierce like the wild, turbulent, out-of-control lover she’d been with that first night.

  She was over the things he’d said that morning. So over them, but she’d let him think that was the cause of her hurt. What would her excuse be now?

  The intensity of that blue flame burned right through every shield she might have attempted to put up. Her body responded to that look. She responded. She couldn’t just blame it on her body. She could feel the flames licking over her skin like a million heated tongues. He wasn’t doing one single thing other than holding her down and staring into her eyes, yet she could feel his mouth moving over her bare skin. She tried to hold back a moan.

  There was his voice. Like velvet. Brushing along every nerve ending. He knew how to use it. Compelling. Commanding. While he spoke to her, his thumb caressed the inside of her wrist right over her pounding pulse, sweeping back and forth in a mesmerizing rhythm that robbed her of her ability to breathe. At the same time, one of his legs slid in between hers, pushing them apart.

  “I swear I had no idea what I was saying or doing that night. I was so damn tired, so many hours without sleep and I’d held an illusion for too long. You were the best thing that ever happened to me. You still are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  He didn’t wait for a reply. He simply took her mouth, and the earth itself spun so fast it fanned the flames rising between them. The fire burned hot, a whirlwind, a storm that rushed over her so that she had to have more. Needed more. She opened herself to him. Gave herself to him. There was no holding back. There hadn’t been before, and there couldn’t be now.

  Player released her wrists and caught her tank, tugging at it. “Is this a favorite? Get rid of it, or it’s gone. I need your tits, baby. I’ve been looking at them for weeks. Thinking about them. Dreaming about them.” He dragged the tank over her head and tossed it away.

  The sensation of the night air on her suddenly exposed breasts was shockingly sensual. The way the blue flames in his eyes leapt and burned over her added to the fire rushing through her veins and roaring between her legs.

  His hands tore at her shorts next. “Don’t want anything between us. Not anything. I wake up with the taste of you in my mouth, and go to sleep with you there.” He ripped the shorts off her hips with one vicious jerk and discarded the scraps.

  Zyah couldn’t stop the soft little moan from escaping this time. Her hips jerked, and she felt her body slick with welcome for him. She had those same sensations every morning, every evening, and she was so grateful she wasn’t alone. Right at that moment, it didn’t matter if it was just sex or not, she was desperate for him.

  “Sometimes I lie on this bed with the scent of you in my lungs and I can actually feel my cock sliding into your hot mouth or your tight little pussy and think I’m going to go insane if I don’t have you again.”

  Those blue eyes burned right into hers until she felt as if he branded her soul. He wasn’t saying anything she hadn’t felt night after night. The memory of his cock stretching her lips, heavy on her tongue. His taste. Inside her. Deep. Even there, stretching her until she felt so full and taken. Until she felt as if he’d written his name inside her.

  He lowered his head again, and his mouth was on her neck, his teeth nipping and then catching, so that her body shuddered as the fleeting pain somehow sent fire streaking through her. His tongue was velvet, his lips soft as he kissed the sting away. He kissed and nipped his way to her breast, his hands cupping the weight as he slid down her body.

  “I love your tits, baby.” His hands were rough, squeezing and massaging.

  She loved the way he touched her as if he couldn’t get enough, as if he was in such a hurry to take every inch of her in. She caught at his hair, all that beautiful, messy, untamed hair that made him look like a fallen angel. Her nails slid down his back, long streaks of fire, to urge him on.

  His mouth found the top of her right breast while his hands caressed underneath both breasts. His mouth was hot, lips velvet soft to match the gentle fingers stroking along the curves. Then his teeth nipped, and his fingers bit into her, kneading possessively. She arched into him, giving him more, wanting more. Those lightning strikes kept streaking like fiery arrows from her breasts to her clit, so that she clenched and clenched. Her hips bucked. Her sex wept.

  “I love your mouth, Player,” she whispered. “Your hands on me.”

  “My teeth. My cock. You fuckin’ love my body, baby, the way I love yours.”

  She did. There was no denying that. He was nibbling at the sides of her breasts now. First one, then the other. Avoiding her nipples. She was dying for him to touch her there. To settle his mouth there. She had more than generous breasts. She remembered how much time he spent on them, worshipping them. He had even dribbled wax on them and slowly peeled it off. He’d wanted to eat off her breasts. He told her he wanted her to dance for him with nipple clamps on and that he’d have his brother, Ice, a jeweler, make her a beautiful set, one of a kind, with bells, just for her, to go with her anklet of bells.

  She slid her hand down his body, trying to reach his cock, but he was too far. She could only dig her nails into his back and the tops of his hips to try to get him to where she wanted him to be.

  He laughed softly against her breast, his breath warm. “Do you think you’re going to gain control by digging your nails into me? I like that you want me, Zyah. I love that you’re making that little keening mewl that says your sweet little pussy is hot as hell and slick for me. My cock is pressed against your thigh. You feel how hot it is? How hard? That’s all yours. But you’re going to wait until I take my time and claim every fuckin’ inch of you.”

  She loved the way he did that. He talked to her like that, as if he owned her. As if her body belonged to him. He talked dirty. He was rough. He was gentle. She needed his kind of wild sex to feel alive. He brought out a side of her that, when they came together, made her truly complete. He made her feel beautiful and powerful. She loved being his.

  “Well, let me have it.” She leaned into him and bit his shoulder and then soothed the sting with her tongue. She loved his skin. The taste of him. “Do you know how good I could make you feel?” She didn’t have to deliberately make her voice sultry; it was already that way—for him— for Player. Tempting him. Wanting him.

  He retaliated, biting the left side of her breast and then the right, sending flaming arrows straight to her sex so that her hips bucked and she cried out. His tongue traced her areola, a long, slow sweep, very gentle. It felt so good she closed her eyes. He moved to her other breast, repeating that same sweet action, his tongue a wicked weapon, teasing her senses, drugging her
until she couldn’t think properly.

  His tongue went to her right nipple, flicking, circling. She found herself holding her breath. Arching her back. Trying to push her breast into the heat of his mouth. His hand came up to cup her breast, his thumb and finger finding her left nipple while his tongue worked her right. She wasn’t certain where to concentrate. His finger brushed her nipple. His thumb strummed as if it were a guitar string. Her belly tightened in anticipation. Liquid heat spilled between her legs.

  “Player. Please. You’re killing me.”

  He laughed softly. “You deserve it, woman. You’ve been killing me for days. Weeks.”

  He blew on her nipple. Then his mouth covered her breast and sucked hard. Really hard. He drew her flesh into that scorching-hot cavern, teeth scraping, tugging, biting down until she wanted to scream with absolute desire, her hips bucking, one leg trying to steal out from under him to wrap around his thigh. His fingers caught her left nipple and pinched down slowly but kept going, taking her breath until she was arching up as high as she could, pushing into his hand and mouth at the same time. When he released her, he kissed his way from one breast to the other, the blue flames in his eyes nearly glowing as he surveyed the marks he’d left behind.

  “You aren’t going to scrub me off you so easily, Zyah,” he said, satisfaction in his voice and in every line of his face.

  Before she could respond, he bent his head to her left breast, repeating the same thing, exactly the same way, not hurrying. She thought she might come undone. Unravel. She was unraveling. She was so desperate to get off that she slid her hand down her body between them to try to give herself some relief.

  Player caught her wrist. “Naughty girl. I’m going to have to punish you for that. You can just wait. I’m getting there. Put your hands on your breasts. I like to see you work your tits while I eat you. Then when you get wild and can’t hold on to them, they bounce all over the place. It’s a beautiful sight.”

  Player flicked her nipples with his tongue, bit gently down one more time and then kissed his way down her belly, sliding slowly between her legs, keeping his body wedged there so she couldn’t close her thighs. His shoulders were wide, and it felt as if he were stretching her legs to capacity, although she knew better. The night air was cool, and she was so hot that the contrast fed the flames, adding to the roaring need coiling tighter and tighter.

  He settled himself and lifted his head to look at her. His eyes. He stole her willpower—her heart—with those eyes of his.

  “I’ve been starving for you.” He stated it very simply and then bent his head to her right thigh.

  His tongue was like velvet on her inner thigh. Up high, close to her heat. Close to where she so desperately needed him. She knew it wasn’t going to be that simple. He wanted to make a statement. A claiming. She couldn’t blame him. The first chance she had, she was going to do a little claiming of her own.

  Zyah closed her eyes, crying out when his teeth marked her, when his mouth sucked at her tender skin, leaving behind a signature going up her inner thigh. It wasn’t enough on her right thigh; he had to duplicate it on her left. Then his mouth was on her lips, his tongue tracing them, flicking and teasing, sipping at the taste of her. Circling her inflamed clit. He flattened his tongue and pressed hard. Circled again. Plunged his tongue deep. Flicked. Strummed. Plunged.

  She found herself hissing his name. Demanding. Trying to find purchase with her feet to push her body into his mouth. Nothing she did or said mattered. Player took his time. Then he suddenly shifted his body, catching her thighs and pressing her legs over his arms. His mouth covered her slit, and her world went red and orange. Fiery flames. No oxygen. He devoured her just like he’d said he would. He was relentless. Merciless. He was unashamedly greedy.

  She sobbed through her first insane orgasm, spiraling out of control. She’d forgotten that, the power he could generate in her body. The waves that kept coming and coming when his mouth and tongue didn’t stop. He added his fingers, stroking. Pushing deep. Sliding between her cheeks. Claiming every part of her for his own. Sending a second wave even more powerful than the first so that she was shattered and only he could save her.

  Player lifted his head and wiped his face on her thighs, his eyes blazing like blue fire. He caught her legs. “Turn over, Zyah.” It was a demand, nothing less.

  He was at the end of the bed already, and he didn’t wait for compliance. She couldn’t move, the ripples taking her over, throwing her into another realm. He caught her ankles and rolled her over so that she was on her belly. Immediately, he was on her, catching her around the waist, yanking her up on her hands and knees.

  “Player.” She wailed his name. She loved him like this. Wild. Crazy. How many times had they been like this that first night?

  He put his hand between her shoulder blades and she went down to her elbows.

  “Bog, I love your ass.” His hands shaped her cheeks. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Zyah. There isn’t a single spot on you that isn’t gorgeous.”

  She felt the slide of his hair on her bottom and then his mouth, his tongue. She couldn’t help tightening her muscles. His hand smacked her hard. “That’s for trying to get yourself off instead of waiting for me.” He smacked her again. “And that’s for making me wait to taste you when you knew I had to be starving for you.”

  Her breath was coming in ragged gasps. She pushed back into him. “Player. Give me your cock.”

  “You don’t deserve it yet.” He bit her. Hard. He ignored her yelp and repeated the action on her other cheek. Then he lapped at her entrance, pushing her legs wider apart, his tongue trailing the mixture of hot cream up into the seam between her cheeks.

  “Hold still for me, and I might decide you deserve my cock after all.”

  His fingers pushed into her slit and his thumb found the little forbidden star. He used both, watching his fingers disappear into her body while she cried out and nearly ground her forehead into the mattress. Player withdrew his fingers with a curse. She waited, breathing hard, hearing the tear of foil. Where had he gotten a condom? Without any warning, he slammed his heavy, thick cock into her body.

  Zyah had come three times, and she was extremely slick. It was the only reason she was able to take the thick invasion as he wrapped his arm around her waist and began pounding into her. Over and over. Feral. Wild. That was Player. Nothing in her life had ever felt so good. Nothing. It was Player. It was always going to be Player. He was like a machine, the friction and scorching heat so intense she thought she might die.

  Her lungs labored. There was no air. Breath didn’t come. She grew dizzy, but he didn’t stop. His arm was like a steel band. His cock a steel hammer. She never wanted him to stop. She needed him to, but she didn’t want him to. Tension coiled and coiled, winding tighter and tighter. She pushed back helplessly into him, every bit as ferocious as he was. Needing his body just like this.

  His hands transferred to her hips, and he was yanking her into him and shoving her away from him, pushing and pulling. It was a kind of madness. A kind of ecstasy. The fire was inside of her, burning through her body in such a brilliant, perfect way. The flames were outside her body, licking over her skin like a thousand hot tongues. He suddenly caught her hair in his hand and jerked her head back, forcing her back to arch, changing the angle of his penetration.

  She muffled her cry as her body reacted, clamping down like a vise on his cock, surrounding all the white-hot steel with a silken fist. The waves crashing through her were powerful, a series of tsunamis threatening to overtake her and drive her out of her mind. Her entire body shuddered with pleasure. Every cell, every nerve ending, was so acutely aware of him, so connected and wrapped up with his body, that she felt not only her own crashing orgasm tearing through her but his as well.

  His release was equally as powerful as hers. A hot, relentless, merciless crescendo that had his cock swelling, pushing tightly against her sensitive tissues until she felt his wild heartbeat. Every pul
se through that heavy vein. Every violent jerk and blazing hot rope of seed filling the condom inside her silken channel triggering more powerful waves in her body. One orgasm rolled into another, and she went down to her belly, unable to support herself.

  Player collapsed on top of her, arms around her, his cock jerking hard in her body, still connecting them. “Bog, woman, you are destined to kill me.”

  The whispered words against her neck penetrated the bliss Zyah floated in. The notes jarred. Rocked. Hit her like a punch in the gut. She groaned. Tears burned like the flames had in his eyes. She knew those blue flames were gone. If she looked at him, his eyes would once again be that intense ice blue that would already be distancing him from her.

  Zyah kept her eyes closed, head turned away from Player’s face. She couldn’t look at him. What was wrong with her? What was wrong with both of them? Wild, dirty, crazy sex was total insanity, and not because it was addicting and heartbreaking. He would walk away unscathed. He’d already proven that. She, however, was going to be ripped to shreds. Still, they had no business acting like two wild animals when he was so injured. So okay, Steele had healed his injury. She got that. But his migraines were ferocious, and they were as bad as ever.

  She worked at finding a way to breathe even while her body still rippled with aftershocks around his. Player’s hand was in her hair, stroking caresses in that way that he had. She felt his breath on the nape of her neck. His lips moved from her neck to her shoulder. Goose bumps rose on her skin. She wore him there. She’d wear him forever. She’d feel him inside her, where she’d never get him out.