Shadow Game (38 page)

He held her there while his body moved to the pounding beat of the music, his hips surging suggestively. Each movement sent lightning arcing through his bloodstream as his thick erection came into contact with her soft, yielding body. The passion of the music was a pounding in his head, in his body.

He had wanted to be different this time, to do all the little things a woman needed a man to do. The whispered laughter. The intimate talk. The shared outings. He wanted to court her the way Lily deserved. But his body went up in flames the moment he was with her. Not just flames but a firestorm burning out of control. Hot and bright and dangerous.

He had to hear her breath catching in her throat, see her eyes go sultry. She was so damned sexy, so hot his every restraint, his every control was gone around her. Dangerous for her, dangerous for anyone who tried to interfere.

The music was ending, the last notes dying away. He intended to let her go, to watch her circle the room, to be satisfied with the brief contact, but little jackhammers were ripping through his brain and he hurt so bad he was afraid he wouldn't be able to walk, getting them safely off the dance floor.

The next number was slow and dreamy, the lights lowering even more. With Lily in his arms, Ryland guided the way through the mass of moving bodies away from any watchers. The captain had his hands full. The woman in the flame-colored dress at the bar had taken to Ryland's suggestion quickly and easily. He knew his men were in the shadows, waiting for him to slip away. Expecting him to return Lily to the security of the house now that they had ensured her safety and allowed him his one dance. Ryland checked that eyes weren't following then-progress as he moved Lily deeper into the shadows where he wanted her. Where he needed her.

Sixteen

THE spiraling staircase was a massive structure. In scouting the hotel, Nicolas had discovered the hidden recesses in stairwell. Built in the thirties, the building had been renovated since, and inside the locked utility closet there was a small, narrow door that had been covered over with paper. It led to a tiny private room that had most likely been used for things illegal. Nicholas had shown him the hideaway in case of an emergency. Ryland was certain this was an emergency.

He took her beneath the stairs, turned a corner, and went down a small series of steps to the utility closet door. He had no problem getting past the heavy lock and moving her right through to the small, narrow room where so many others had secreted themselves over the years. He laughed softly and told her, "In the speakeasy days, they had peepholes in here. You can still see the cracks."

She didn't answer him. Couldn't answer him. She didn't know whether to slap his face for being so completely arrogant and certain of himself, or whether to fling herself at him and kiss him senseless.

They stared at one another, the heat flaring relentlessly between them. He made the decision for her. His body crowded hers deeper into the shadow of the stairwell, his arms tightening possessively. "Kiss me, Lily. I have to have your mouth."

She couldn't resist the ache in his voice, the lure of the forbidden. Lily tilted her head back, gasped when his lips fused with hers. Hot. Starving. She tasted passion. She tasted desire. His tongue stroked and cajoled, sweeping aside her every inhibition, her every fear, so that she answered him, fire for fire.

This man was hers. He belonged to her. Wanted her. Needed her. She could never resist the urgency of his need. He was devouring her, right there in the shadows, his hands cupping her buttocks to align her body more perfectly with his. From mere feet away came the murmur of voices, laughter, and the chink of ice in glasses. The music invaded through the cracks in the thin walls, so loud it nearly shook the floor, filling the tiny hidden room. Ryland lifted his head, his eyes dark with raw passion as he looked into her blue gaze. His body was painfully aroused and she was looking up at him, bemused.

He could see the outline of her nipples, dark, thrusting against the thin clingy material of her gown. The sight drew him, tempted him. He slid his hand up the side of the dress, pushing the material away from her ribs, inching it out of the way to expose one full breast.

The cool air on her heated skin only added to her acute sensitivity. She wanted him right there, wanted his hands on her, his body buried deep in hers. The addiction to him was beyond anything she had ever experienced or had conceived could be possible. She wanted to rip away his shirt and feast her eyes on his chest, run her hands over his muscles, feel his need of her growing in her hand, against her body. Lily moved deliberately, bringing up her hands, running her fingertips along her ample curves, tracing a path down her flat stomach, reveling in the way his hot gaze followed.

Ryland's body hardened even more. She looked lush and sexy, pressed against the wall, her lips swollen and dark from his kisses. She looked wanton, her elegant gown shimmering, her breasts teasing his heightened senses. His fingers followed the path hers had taken over her breasts, skimmed the soft flesh, lingered, stroked, and massaged.

He felt her body tremble in response. He breathed warm air over her already taut nipple, slowly bent his head to temptation.

She moaned when his mouth, hot and moist, closed over her breast. His tongue danced to the music, stabbed and caressed. He suckled strongly, wanting to devour her, brand her.

At that moment, more than anything else, he needed to bury his fingers deep inside of her. Needed to feel her wet response. Ryland pressed closer to her, trapping her body there in the darkness, his hand finding the hem of her dress, circling her ankle with his fingers. He slid his palm up her calf, lingering for a moment as he traced the scars with loving care. His hand caressed her knee, slid all the way up her bare thigh.

Lily cradled his head, drowning in sensation. This was sheer madness. She heard her soft muffled groan as he found the heat of her damp curls. "Ryland," she whispered into his dark hair. "I'm going to go up in flames."

"I want you to, Lily. Burn for me." His fingers encountered the tiny scrap of underwear. His teeth nipped the side of her breast. "I thought you weren't wearing underwear. I'm so disappointed."

The sexy little thong was no hindrance as he pushed his finger into her, testing the depth of her response to him. Her gasp excited him more. The muscles of her fiery sheath clamped tightly, velvet soft, so tempting his body shook with urgency to bury itself in her. She was so beautiful to him. So necessary to him. She had no idea what she meant to him.

Ryland closed his eyes and simply indulged his hunger for her, losing himself in the temptation of her body. He pressed his finger deep into her heat, his mouth hot and insistent on her breast. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to her. The music was swirling around them, the sounds of feet on the stairs, the voices and laughter.

His mouth left her breast to travel up her throat to her chin. "Unzip me, Lily." He breathed the temptation. Whispered it. A sinfully wicked plea.

"Ryland…" It was a soft, breathless protest, even as her hands found the front of his trousers, her fingers sending tongues of fire racing up his hard shaft as she obeyed. "This is insanity. We should go home…" she trailed off, her lungs starving for air. She wanted him so much, right there, just like that, wild and out of control and so hungry for her he couldn't possibly wait.

Ryland was rigid with need, hard and thick and pulsing with hunger. A craving. He caught her leg, wrapped it around his waist even as he forced her back tighter against the wall. "You're burning up for me, honey?" he whispered, "don't say no. They won't find us here." He pushed her gown higher, bunching it around her waist. "Don't leave me like this. I've never needed anything more." Not wanting to take the chance she might deny him, Ryland brought his body against her moist heat. His hands found the tiny strip of red lace and ripped it away, leaving her fully exposed for him. "Want me back, Lily. Want me like this. Maybe it's the wrong place and the wrong time, but want me anyway."

Lily closed her eyes as she felt him, thick and hard, probing against her entrance. He was large, her body tight. It seemed an impossibility there in the tiny room with its peepholes and history. And there was danger…

Ryland stayed perfectly still, waiting. Praying.

Her fingers curled in his hair. "I want you more than anything," she admitted, rubbing enticingly against him.

Slick with heat and moisture, she accepted him, inch by inch. He filled her until she was gasping, her breath coming in little pants of pleasure. She needed him too. Needed him buried deep inside her, a part of her, sharing the same body.

Ryland began to move, deliberately finding a hot, passionate rhythm that matched the sultry music pounding around them. Fast and slow, deep and hard, he never wanted it to end. She was so tight, her body made for his. The soft little sounds coming from her throat were driving him mad. Her nails bit into his back, her breath came in little gasps, and her eyes were cloudy with heat.

He lifted her, so that she was forced to curl both legs around him, to open herself more fully to his possession. He drove deeper, his hands biting into her waist. "Ride me, baby, come on, take all of me." He whispered the temptation, watching her face, the heated color, the pleasure he was giving her.

She moved, her muscles clenching, tightening, sliding up and down, over him, following the driving beat of the music as he had done. Lily forgot where she was. Who she was. There was only the pleasure coursing through her body, the fire washing over her as she threw back her head and indulged herself.

Dancing lights burst behind her eyes and she closed them, moving to the beat, riding his body, every muscle dazzled and alive. She could feel her body winding, tightening, clenching around his. Wanting him. Greedy for him. Demanding him.

Ryland murmured something she didn't catch, his hands tightening on her, biting deep as he thrust fiercely into her. Lily threw back her head, shuddering with pleasure as her body spiraled out of control, wave after wave shaking her. Her hair was a dark cloud around her, teasing her breasts as they jutted brazenly. She felt a scream of acute pleasure welling up and hastily buried her face against his shoulder. His heavy muscles muffled her cries as she allowed one leg to drop back to the floor, needing to hold herself up.

Her body was an inferno, velvet soft, yet gripping him tightly. The friction was nearly unbearable, so much pleasure it was nearly pain. He thrust deep one last time as the music crescendoed, as his body erupted, a hot volcano that nearly took his head off. His legs turned to rubber, his body turned to lead as if she had drained his very strength. He rested her back against the wall, his forehead pressed to hers, struggling to regain his ability to breathe.

They stayed that way, twined together, leaning against the wall for support, the only way to stay upright. Lily attempted to regain her ability to breathe, listening to the next song, a slow, moody number. One leg still curled possessively around his waist, their bodies intimately tight together. She was so aware of his every movement, his every breath, the hand stroking her calf.

Lily was astonished she didn't fall over when Ryland was finally able to move, kissing her neck and slowly straightening up. Her leg somehow managed to unwrap, her foot dropping to the floor, releasing him. He handed her back the little scrap of useless underwear.

Lily stared down at the torn lacy thong in shock then lifted her gaze to Ryland. A slow grin was spreading across his face. Self-satisfied. Male. She couldn't help the slow answering smile curving her mouth.

Ryland studied her. She looked thoroughly loved. She still leaned against the wall, her gown bunched around her waist, her breasts thrusting toward him. Her mouth was swollen from his kisses and he could see his seed trickling down her thigh. "You're undoubtedly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

Slightly shocked that she felt no embarrassment, Lily casually used the red thong to clean her leg. Ryland caught her hand, took the scrap of lace back, and slowly performed the task. His fingers seemed to linger and caress her sensitized flesh so that little aftershocks began all over again.

"You can't do that," she whispered. His mere touch was producing an ache that would never be satisfied.

"You wouldn't believe what I can do," he said with complete confidence, his fingers dancing inside her, teasing and provoking, urging her body to move against his stroking thumb.

She went over the edge so hard and fast the orgasm took her by surprise. Lily caught at his shoulder for support, her body trembling and aching. "You have to stop or I'm going to scream and bring everyone running."

He kissed her again and again, wishing for more time with her. "I want to spend hours just making love to you, Lily."

She looked around her at the shabby little room. "I can't believe we're in this smutty little room. Worse, I can't believe I want to stay in here with you."

Ryland leaned into her, found her mouth with his, a slow melting. Where they sizzled before, burning hot and fast, now they smoldered. "I love you, Lily Whitney. I really do love you." His hand curved around the nape of her neck, his thumb tipping up her chin so she had to meet the steel in his eyes.

"I know you love my body."

"Damn it, is it so hard to say it? I feel it every time you touch me. When you kiss me. Stop being so damned stubborn. I could use a little help here."

"Two damns," Lily said thoughtfully. She circled his neck with both arms, leaned her full, generous breasts into his chest. Her teeth nibbled on his neck, his jaw. "I guess I'll have to give this some thought if you're going to be so insistent."

He heard the soft teasing note in her voice and the hard knots in his belly began to relax. "I am going to be insistent, Lily. I was thinking we could go home and pick up this conversation in our bed."

"You're very sure of yourself, aren't you?" Her tongue danced in his ear, teased the corner of his mouth.