His hands spanned her waist, keeping her seated fully over him as she sat up. The movement took him deep, and instantly his cock swelled, going hard like a steel spike, pushing against her soft tissues, forcing her inner muscles to accept him all over again. He refused to allow her to leave him, so she sat there, her long hair a dark cloud shimmering around her body, her green eyes going emerald and her soft mouth frowning at him.
"Even when you're pissed as hell, you're so damned sexy I could eat you alive," he said. He did a slow thrust upward and watched her breasts sway with the jolt.
"I can't believe you."
"Your man believes in being prepared, and aren't you glad I was?"
She didn't reply, but threw her head back, grinding down on him. He lifted her nearly off him and then, controlling the pace, brought her back slowly over him, sheathing his cock in hot silk.
"Harder," she breathed, trying to twist her body to get what she wanted.
"Not yet, baby. I don't want you to get too sore. Just ride me slow." His hands urged her to accept the slow, easy, almost languid rhythm he set.
"Trap," she protested, but she did as he asked, rising slowly, her tight muscles dragging over him, creating a delicious friction for both of them. Creating a slow, scorching-hot burn.
"Slow can be good, Cayenne," he explained. "We're going to take this slow and easy until neither of us can take it anymore."
She moved on him, following his lead, her body so tight he could barely stand the pleasure as she wrapped him in heat and silk. Her hair swung around her with each movement, sliding over his skin. His gaze stayed on her breasts for several long spectacular moments and then drifted lower, to watch himself disappear inside her and then reappear as she lifted her body.
"Look, baby," he said softly. "Look at us. Fucking beautiful. Sexy as hell. That's my woman. I love the way you take me inside you."
She looked down at where they joined together, watched the long, thick length of him appear and then disappear as she slowly rode him. His hands found her breasts and began a slow massage. She bit her lip.
"Touch my nipples, Trap. They feel like they're on fire."
He did so immediately, his fingers tugging hard. He raised his head as he urged her body down over him so he could take one hard nipple into the heat of his mouth, suckling strongly, using his tongue and the edge of his teeth. She gasped, and he felt liquid fire bathe his cock.
"I need harder, Trap," she whispered. "Please, honey, this is making me crazy."
"You don't like it?"
"I do. I really do, but it isn't enough. Even my blood feels like it's on fire. I can barely stand the tension. I'm right there. So close, but I can't go over. I need to go faster and harder. Please, Trap."
He loved the soft plea in her voice. The need in her. The way she had no problems demanding and asking for what she wanted. He loved that she pleaded with him and wasn't in the least embarrassed to do so.
He gave her harder. Faster. Rougher. He used his mouth and his hands and cock to drive her up higher. He watched her face the entire time. Her every expression. The way her breasts bounced and swayed with each hard jolt. The way her eyes went hazy and her breath turned ragged. The flush turning her skin a rose color and the way her mouth opened and that shocked pleasure came over her face right before the orgasm took her, roaring through her so that her body clamped down hard on his.
Still, he drove into her right through that exquisite contracting, needing to watch her while he gave that to her before he let go himself, giving himself up to the same fire. He pulled her down over him, wrapping his arms around her, finding her mouth unerringly to take her gasping breath right down his throat. He loved that too.
Her heart beat hard against his chest. He could tell she was exhausted. He was too. It felt good. Not just good, great. He allowed himself a few minutes to just hold her while their breathing settled. The lacy veils of silken webs hung like artwork around their bed, creating such an intimacy that he felt his need of her crawling down his throat to wrap around his heart.
"Trap?" Her voice was a soft whisper running over his skin like fingers.
"Right here, baby," he whispered against her neck. He slipped his fist into her hair, sifting through the long, thick mass.
"I'm so glad you found a way to be immune to my bite. I think that might happen again sometime."
He could tell by her voice she was not only afraid that she might bite him again when their sex got out of control, but she knew she would because the urge was not as controllable as she would like. This time there was trepidation in her tone.
He gently tugged on her hair. "Good thing I find your bite sexy as hell. Everything about you is sexy, Cayenne. Especially your bite. I love that I'm the only man in the world who is safe around you."
There was a small silence. He felt her lips curl against his chest. Her tongue licked at his skin. "You're not entirely safe."
He laughed softly. Happy. He could sleep just like that--her sprawled over him, his cock still in her. Not that it would be fair to her. She needed care. He kissed her neck and forced himself to do the right thing. She had gotten to him as no one in his life ever had. "I've got to get up for a minute. Stay here and let me get a warm washcloth, baby," he said. "I'll clean you up and we can go back to sleep."
She made a little sound of protest, but loosened her arms.
Very gently, Trap allowed his body to slide away from Cayenne's as he put her on her back. She watched him as he got out of bed, her gaze drifting over his body. There was evidence of her innocence on his cock and thighs. He liked the way she looked at him, that dark green creeping into the vibrancy of the emerald.
"You told me that once I was in your bed, when I was yours, you were going to share some things with me, Trap."
He cleaned himself thoroughly, taking his time, wincing at her words and trying to think what he could say to her to keep her with him. He had promised that to her and he was a man of his word. She gave him honesty, and he couldn't give her less. He ran hot water onto a cloth and carried it back to the bed.
He sat beside her and gently drew her knees up. He opened her legs, using his hands on her thighs. He used the washcloth gently and very intimately to clean her. "I did say that, didn't I?" Happiness slid away to be replaced by knots in his guts. Hard, tight ones that told him the ice in his veins wasn't going to protect him. If he told her the truth about what was waiting for her, and that he knowingly dragged her into danger with him, what would she think of him? She already had enough danger surrounding her with Whitney sending his soldiers after her.
"Trap?"
"Give me a minute, baby." He needed more than a minute. She'd given him her body. Surrendered completely to him, just as he'd asked of her. He actually liked being in her company. Before, with any other woman, ice had come back, and sometimes, even when his body wasn't sated, he had to leave. Get away from the woman, because the moment she opened her mouth she made his head want to explode. He'd never had this before--this desire that had grown into a need and now was pure determination. He wasn't going to lose her.
He took his time getting rid of the washcloth before padding barefoot back to her. Sliding into bed, he drew up the covers, turning to her to slip his arms around her and pull her small body close to his. "You certain you want to hear this now, baby? You need more sleep. I'm not going to be through with you for a very long time. I plan on feeding you, fucking you and sleeping with you, for the next few weeks until neither of us can move."
"Sounds like a plan," she agreed softly, "but you promised me. I need to hear what you have to say."
He sighed and dropped his chin on the top of her head.
"Why don't you want to tell me?"
"You know why, Cayenne. You may not have been with any other man, but you're intelligent and you can also see the difference between a man like Wyatt and me. He's a good man and he's going to be a fantastic husband to Pepper. I'm going to drive you insane with my personality. I'm go
ing to hurt you when I'm not thinking before I snap at you. I don't like a lot of people around me, which means you aren't going to be attending a lot of parties and have tons of friends around you all the time because I'm going to want you with me, not out gallivanting around with your friends. I'm bossy and demanding and I'll expect sex whenever the fuck I want it. Adding more to my long list of sins isn't conducive to making you want to stay."
She slid her hand down his forearm to his hand--the one splayed possessively over her stomach. His belly knotted more. He hadn't even told her he was already trying to plant his child in her. She was new to all this and she wouldn't be thinking about getting pregnant, but he was determined they would have children right away. He was going to have a family with her. His own family. He planned to give her everything she wanted, make her his princess, surrounded by every protection he could give her. He didn't know how to give her sweet words, but he knew he could show her--eventually. He needed time though. Time to hook her and keep her hooked.
"So breaking this down, Trap, I will admit to being intelligent and to having studied the members of your GhostWalker team for the last four months. I visited Wyatt's home nearly every day, watching all of you."
He didn't like that. Her watching the other men. Maybe wanting one of them. He pushed his hips tight against her bottom. That beautiful, curved ass that swayed when she walked. An invitation, just like her soft, sexy voice and her lush mouth. The ass that was his, not belonging to one of the other men.
"Wyatt wouldn't suit me. Neither would any of the others. I'm a little obsessed with you, in case you haven't noticed. It was your bedroom I went to when I couldn't stand it and had to be close to you. I had to be close to you. You're the only person in the world who showed me kindness. More, you saw me. As a human being, not an insect or a threat."
"Cayenne." He murmured the protest against the top of her head. He didn't want her to ever have that image in her mind.
"At the risk of making you even more arrogant than you already are, you're the most handsome man I've ever laid eyes on. I love everything about you. Your height, how strong you are. Your eyes. The set of your jaw. I can describe every inch of your body, Trap. Every single inch. I love how you taste and how you make me feel. I love that you have a mind, and with that, comes a sexy, hot man. I want that for me. I don't want any of the others. They wouldn't suit my personality."
She was silent a moment and he felt her lips whisper across the back of his hand. His cock jerked hard and he pushed deeper into the cleft of her ass. She was warm silk and her body just melted deeper into his.
"I like your personality, Trap, and it's one I understand. I'm not easy, and I doubt that I ever will be. Yes, it hurt when you were so cold when we were in town, but you explained that and I understood. Now I know what to expect and why you need to be that way. I don't need you to be anything but who you are. If you're rude to me and I don't like it, I'm going to say so. We'll probably exchange hot words, and then I'll probably fling myself at you because I like to see all that ice melt and I know I can melt it."
He closed his eyes tight. He'd been alone so fucking long. Never had he ever considered that he might fall so hard so fast or even that he could fall. But there she was, the woman who could match the wild in him. She really would understand his driving needs in the laboratory, and he was fairly certain she'd be there with him, working right alongside of him.
"I don't like a lot of people around me either, Trap. Even if I make friends, and right now you have far more than I do as I don't have any, I don't foresee myself overcoming years of being alone in a cell and wanting to be with tons of people. Being with you is the longest I've ever been with another human being. I can't relax without my silks surrounding me. It's how I kept my privacy in the cells with all the cameras on me. I need them. I'm not certain too many other people are going to understand that. So you can cross that worry off your list. It's you I want to be with."
He heard the ring of honesty in her voice. She wasn't ever going to be the type of woman who liked to go to parties and get her photograph taken with him in order to have her fifteen minutes of fame in magazines. If anything, that would be another detriment. But she'd do it for him. He got that now. She was in as deep as he was in spite of his sins.
"I like your bossiness and your demanding because I can be the same way. As far as you making demands on my body--seriously, Trap? Can you not feel what you do to me? I look at you and melt. I want to have sex with you. I love having sex with you. I may not know what I'm doing exactly, but I learn fast and I know I can give you whatever you need. I trust that you'll do the same for me. Trap." She turned her head to look at him over her bare shoulder. "I want you with every breath I take."
There it was. Cayenne handing him everything. She didn't have to, and most women wouldn't. She didn't play games, she wouldn't know how. She was strictly honest and meant every single word she said. He let his breath out slowly, his fingers, as they stroked her stomach, reverent.
"My father was a mean son of a bitch, Cayenne. I didn't have one of those happy homes like you see in the movies or read about in books. He liked to beat up my mother and his children. He didn't work much, so he had a lot of time to think up ways to fuck with all of us. My mom worked and she didn't often see what he did to us, but eventually she decided to take us and run."
Her hand moved over his, stroking caresses, but she remained silent. Waiting. Knowing it wasn't good, but wanting him to understand she was with him no matter how bad it was. He was in her mind and he felt that solidarity. It was strange to share space in one's mind because the loneliness simply disappeared. Every last vestige of it. Cayenne filled those deep cracks and wide gaps. Her strength. Her warmth. Her caring.
Trap had never really believed in love--not since he was a boy. He hadn't dared believe in it. He'd felt that emotion for his sister and his mother. Both had been ripped from him. He'd felt it for his aunt, and she'd been ripped from him as well. That had been soul-destroying. Utterly soul-destroying. He had forced away all emotion, turning himself into a glacier to survive.
Wyatt had found a small crack in the ice and wormed his way in. Then one by one the other team members had followed Wyatt until he accepted them into his life, but he still held himself aloof. Apart. There was no staying apart from Cayenne. None at all. He didn't want that. He wanted what he had right in that moment. That connection. That closeness.
"I was different. He fixated on that. My sister Dru was different as well, and she understood me when no one else did. My mother loved me, but I was strange and she didn't really have time for that strangeness. She worked all the time and coped with him, trying to keep him off of us. He grew to despise me. No matter how much Dru and my mother tried to keep him away from me, he beat the hell out of me and made my life as miserable as possible."
Cayenne's fingers tightened over his hand and she pushed back into him until she was practically sharing his skin. He found he couldn't get close enough to her. Sharing her skin was fast becoming a necessity. He trudged on, wanting her to understand why he was the way he was and what that would mean to her. She had to choose him. He couldn't see himself letting her go.
"In a way, I almost didn't mind. When he focused on me, he wasn't going after my younger brother, Brad, or my baby sister, Linnie. He left my mom and Dru alone. One day, though, he broke my arm and a couple of ribs. We couldn't hide that from Mom and she took me to the hospital. He was arrested and taken to jail. Dru told Mom everything, and Mom decided it was enough and we left."
He slid his hand down her soft stomach until his finger could caress the soft triangle at the junction of her legs. He needed the soft feel of the hourglass. Her hand went with his and there was something sexy and also loving in that. He found stroking the hourglass, tracing the shape of it in all that soft silk soothed him.
"He found us. Mom took us across the country, and he still found us. He wasn't alone. He had two brothers. Like my father, they were vicious and cr
uel. They liked hurting others. They stayed outside pouring gasoline all over the walls and then coming into the house and doing the same in all the rooms. They'd planned it with him. My dad, my uncles, planned to murder his children and his wife."
He felt her breath hitch. Her stomach contracted and he pressed his fingers deeper into the hourglass.
"My father shot Linnie and Brad and my mother. Then Dru. She tried to protect me. There was so much blood, and I couldn't make it stop flowing out of her. Her eyes were open and she looked so horrified. Terrified. Lifeless. He should have shot me right there, with my body under hers, but my seeing him kill her wasn't enough for him. Knowing I was going to die wasn't enough for him. He wanted to beat the shit out of me one more time. I was nine fucking years old, he'd just killed my mother, my brother and my two sisters, and that wasn't enough for him. He wanted to beat the shit out of me one last time before he killed me."
"Trap." She whispered his name and pressed his fingers tight against her.
His heart tripped. Stuttered. She was so beautiful to him. Everything about her. She felt compassion for that little boy. She wanted to wrap him in her silk and protect him from what was to come. He knew, because he was in her mind. Her hand was on his and he actually felt the silken slide against the back of his. He slipped right past need and hunger to something else altogether. Something he didn't believe he'd ever feel for anyone, let alone a woman. He'd protected his heart for years. With Cayenne, he just couldn't find the ice to keep her out.
"I went after him. I was nine years old and I went after him. I slipped on Dru's blood, Cayenne. It was everywhere. Everywhere. All over me. All over the floor and walls. I rammed my head into his crotch and I got the gun and shot him. He had a knife and he stabbed me with it a couple of times, but I didn't even feel the blade go in. Not then."
"Your belly and thigh."
She'd seen the scars. She knew them intimately. She'd even traced them with her tongue. He rubbed his face in her hair. "He kept slipping in Dru's blood. Even after she died she saved me. He wasn't dead, but he was gone. I made certain when I shot him that he wasn't going to live." He told her the stark truth. "Even then, barely nine, I knew anatomy. I knew where to place bullets to do the most damage and cause the most suffering. You need to know that about me, Cayenne. The worst. Because I'd fucking do it again if I had the chance."