Conspiracy Game (41 page)

Her hands traced each slice of the knife, injuries she’d attended to—wounds she’d stitched. They were everywhere, all over his body, front and back, small cuts and hideous burns. On his chest, she could make out the letters with her fingertips, the name of the man who had done such a thing, forever carved across Jack’s chest.

He flicked her nipple with his tongue and she shivered with pleasure. Her back arched when his mouth covered her breast, hot and tight, tongue stroking and teasing, sending licks of excitement through her body. He lifted his head to kiss her again, and it was addicting, the hard press of his mouth, the dark arousal washing through her body in waves. He pressed his thigh up into the damp vee between her legs, sending a shaft of lightning whipping through her.

Briony cried out, her head falling back as she pushed against him, riding his thigh, so that the flashes of heat flamed through her. She stroked his neck, down his chest, and leaned forward again to flick her tongue over the deepest of the scars, as if she could heal it with her moist caress.

His touch became more demanding, losing the gentle glide as he explored her body. His hunger was so sharp, so terrible, his need of her so great he felt like an animal, a predator, dark and dangerous in a feeding frenzy. He dropped to his knees, his hands dragging her thighs apart.

Briony gasped as his finger pushed deep into her heat. Her muscles clamped hard, raging for release as another gush of fluids betrayed her own need.

He swore harshly, hands biting into her hips, dragging her forward as he replaced his finger with his mouth.

Briony nearly fell, her legs turning to jelly, shudders wracking her body as she flung her arms out to try to anchor herself. “Jack.” His name came out a sob, but he showed no mercy, his tongue sweeping through her slick folds, stabbing hard, so that she bit off a scream of ecstasy. He growled again, the vibration sending a spasm through her womb and a firestorm of flames through her blood.

“I can’t stand it,” she moaned. “It’s too much.”

He licked her hungrily, desperate for the taste of her, desperate to bind her to him in the one way he could be sure of.

Briony caught his hair in her fist, tried to yank him back as her legs went to rubber and the pleasure burst through her, her muscle spasms painful as his teeth and tongue fed at her silken channel. He added his fingers and she did scream, her mind fragmenting as he pushed her higher and higher. She couldn’t control herself anymore, a mindless body thrusting against his mouth, riding his fingers as her body wound tighter and tighter, dragging her into a whirlpool of such pleasure she simply exploded, bursting into fragments, muscles contracting violently, heat searing her body and spreading through her—spreading more need, more hunger, until there was only Jack. Until she was more his than her own. She heard her own cry of release, the wailing sound shocking as she thrust helplessly against him.

You’re safe, baby. Safe with me. I’ve got you.
He lowered her shaking body to the bed, hips keeping her thighs wide as he stood between her legs and lifted her, dragging her until her bottom was off the bed and only he supported her.

Her eyes widened and another clenching release shot through her as he pressed the broad head of his erection into her. Flames threatened to consume her, racing over her body, inside and out, between her legs, up her belly, even to her breasts and nipples. He was shattering her with pleasure, turning her inside out, and she’d never be the same.

His face rose above her, dark with passion, eyes like steel, his hands gripping her hips as his hard shaft began to push inch by inch through tight, spasming muscles, as he slowly invaded her channel. A strangled groan escaped his throat as he looked down at her body stretched so tightly around his.

“Stay with me, baby. Don’t fight me.”

She didn’t realize she was thrashing under him, every move of her body, every tightening of her muscles sending pleasure crashing through her—pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. “It’s too much, Jack. I’m losing myself.” Her voice was hoarse and panicked as she choked out the words.

He withdrew and her heart nearly stopped; then, without preamble, he drove through the slick, tight folds to bury himself deep. Briony screamed his name, hands digging into the sheets for an anchor as her body pulsed around his, dragging at him, clenching and burning like a fire that could never be put out. He was ruthless, holding her hips to accept his harsh, pounding thrusts. The fire raged hotter, the tension winding and winding until she was certain she would shatter into a million pieces. Her head thrashed from side to side and she twisted her fingers into the sheets, trying to hold on, but he was relentless, pushing her further, until she was nearly sobbing for release.

“Jack. Jack.” She was chanting his name. “Please.”

“You can take it, baby, everything. All of it—all of me.” He pressed hard into her, stimulating her most sensitive area deliberately, feeling her body’s instant reaction, the sudden jerking of her muscles all around him, contracting harder and harder, until the fury of her orgasm rocked both of them. It powered through her body, her stomach and breasts, sent shock waves through her thighs and a series of major quakes through her groin, until her muscles squeezed like a vise, forcing his hot release to fill her in hot jetting spurts.

Jack fought to catch his breath, her hips in his hands, body still buried balls deep, exactly as he needed, real peace settling into his heart and mind for the first time that he could remember. His pulse was racing, and he thought for a moment that she might have killed him, might have given him a heart attack, with the pleasure shooting through his body, from his toes to his head. “Son of a bitch, Briony.”

She took a breath. “Yeah. Me too.” She closed her eyes and drifted in the sensual storm of small quakes. She felt him move, sliding out of her, dragging across too-sensitive nerves, so that she shuddered again with another wave of pleasure, and then he was running a wet cloth between her legs.

Jack picked her up as if she were no weight at all, shifting her back to the top of the bed and pulling the sheet and comforter over her. This time he slid under the covers with her, shaping his body around hers. “I think we’re going to have to look up vigorous sex. The book said it was okay, but our sex may not be what they’re talking about.”

She snuggled closer to his warmth, her heart still racing out of control, body still so sensitive that even the feeling of the sheets against her heated flesh caused her muscles to clench with pleasure. “We won’t survive another round like that, Jack; at least I won’t.”

He took her mouth, soft gentle kisses of reassurance. “That was me loving you, baby, and I haven’t even gotten started.”

C
HAPTER 
16

T
he
window beside Briony’s head shattered, spraying glass all over her. Something hit the floor just as a second and third window shattered. Jack rolled Briony off the bed onto the floor, covering her body with his own as smoke poured into the room from the canister bouncing and rattling on the floor.

Ken!

I’m on it.

Don’t breathe, Briony, keep your eyes closed tight. Don’t take a breath. If you get in trouble, let me know, I’ll help you.

How do they keep finding me? I don’t understand. They shouldn’t have been able to find me.

Don’t panic, baby. We knew they’d come eventually. It’s no big deal.

Jack was so calm. She squeezed her eyes closed and held her breath, wishing she’d managed to take a gulp of air as she hit the floor. She wanted to reach for him, cling, but she heard him moving with purpose around the room.

What are you doing?

We’ll need your clothes, the baby book, a few things.
He pushed jeans and a shirt into her hands and pressed her shoes close before shrugging into his own clothes.

The baby book? We’re under attack and you’re calmly packing up the baby book? Jack, you’re nuts! We need weapons.

I’ve got weapons stashed; we’ll be fine.
Jack sounded every bit as calm as he acted. J
ust stay put and keep your eyes closed. Ken? Where the hell are you?

They’re breaking in through the living room. Send Briony into the tunnel.

Jack stuffed the last of the clothes into the backpack and shoved the rug out of the way to lift a trapdoor with a smooth, practiced motion. There was nothing hurried about his deliberate movements. He tapped Briony’s shoulder.

Three steps to the trapdoor and then you’re going to jump straight down. I know you can’t see where you’re landing, but trust me, it’s safe. You can open your eyes once you’re in the tunnel; no gas there yet. When you hit the floor, follow the tunnel. Ken will meet you.

He held her right at the edge of the hole, letting her feel empty space with her foot. She felt his mouth touch her neck, a brush of his lips, and it felt too much like good-bye.
Wait! Aren’t you coming with me? Jack, come with me.

He ignored the fear and desperation in her voice.
I’ll be there soon. Go, baby. Do what I say.
He pulled her tighter against him and kissed her mouth, holding her close.
Get out of here before we run out of time.

Briony wavered and Jack dropped her into the darkness.
Jack!
Her startled protest was more shocked than anything else as she landed in a crouch, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Get the hell out of here, baby. I’ve got work to do.

Stay alive, Jack. For me. You stay alive.

Jack’s heart twisted in his chest at the worry in her voice, the love that washed through him. He couldn’t afford to think about anything but the enemy, and she was turning him inside out. He yanked on night vision goggles and calmly slung a rifle around his neck, tucking two handguns into his belt and adding clips of ammo to the loops. He covered the trapdoor and replaced the rug before stepping to one side of the broken window. Shadows flitted through the trees, surrounding the house. The strobes in his room and probably in Ken’s began flashing as the alarms were tripped. Someone had used the tree branches to get close enough to fire the canisters of gas through the windows, and that told Jack that at least some of the soldiers were enhanced.

He lobbed two smoke bombs into the yard, one right after the other, and followed them out, leaping onto the rail and grasping the edge of the roof to somersault up. The moment his feet touched, he knew he wasn’t alone. He smelled sweat, heard air rushing eagerly through lungs—and he spun toward the sound, firing quickly, blindly, relying solely on his enhanced senses. As he pulled the trigger, he moved fast, a blur of speed across the rooftop, making his way toward the wide chimney, the only possible cover.

The enemy returned fire, ribbons of color streaking in the darkness. Jack dove for the chimney, rolling partway and flattening his body as best he could while he lay still, allowing the shadows to absorb him. He waited, listening, inhaling to track his enemy by sweat and smell, body heat, whatever worked.