Shadow Game (GhostWalkers)

by Christine Feehan

  Taking her time as she washed her face, using the opportunity to give herself a stern lecture, she peered at her face in the mirror. “You don’t want him anyway, Lily, you want to be loved for who you are, not because you have great chemistry.” Her eyes were too large for her face. She was too pale. Drooping. Why hadn’t she been born model thin and gorgeous? With a perpetual tan?

  Great chemistry works for me. The voice slipped into her mind. Slid over her body like a physical touch.

  Lily stiffened, her fingers curling around the edges of the sink. Using the mirror she searched the room carefully. It was one thing to dream of him, quite another to face him alone and vulnerable in the privacy of her rooms. The connection was too strong between them. She didn’t trust it…or him. “Are you here in the room with me? Because you’d better not be. You have a designated area of safety and my private rooms are not included.” She asked the question aloud, wanted him to answer aloud. It was far too intimate an exchange with him in her mind. Her thoughts. Her fantasies. The color wasn’t just in her face anymore, it was creeping up her entire body.

  I like your fantasies. Ryland’s voice purred. Like a great contented cat. Purred so that it vibrated through her body, set her on fire.

  He couldn’t be in her room. He’d better not be in her room. Her heart was pounding with a mixture of fear and excitement. She wanted to see him, but dreaded being alone with him. And she was wearing his shirt…. It was possible she wanted him so much she was imagining things. She closed her eyes. Imagination had already gotten her in trouble once; she wasn’t about to allow it to happen again.

  Hands whispered up her thighs, pushing aside the long tails of her shirt, slid over the curve of her hips, framed her rib cage, and moved up higher to cup the weight of her breasts in rough palms. Lily’s eyes flew open to stare at his face above her own. Real. Ryland crowded close to her. His body, hard and hot, pressed against her back. His hands, beneath the thin material of her shirt, were possessive, his thumbs stroking her nipples into taut peaks.

  Ryland watched her face in the mirror. Fear blossoming. The shock. The pleasure. He slowly bent his head so that his lips skimmed her neck. “Don’t worry, Lily, I know you. I know what you want. I know what you need right now. I need it too. The rest will come later.”

  Desire was a hot heat spiraling through her body, every nerve ending alive. Lily gasped, her fingers tightening around the edge of the sink. She should have been screaming a protest; instead she stood very still absorbing the feel of his hands on her body. “Are you crazy? How did you find me? You shouldn’t be here, Ryland.” She wanted him more than life itself. But she wasn’t what he thought. She could never match the erotic fantasy they had woven together.

  Ryland’s teeth scraped gently over her neck, sent fire racing over her skin. “Did you think anything could keep me away from you?” His hands were possessive around her breasts. “Don’t be afraid, Lily. Anything we do is going to be perfect between us.”

  She couldn’t help the thrill of excitement that raced through her, even if her mind taunted her with her lack of actual experience. Their eyes met in the mirror. She could see his hunger. Stark and raw. There were lines etched into his face that hadn’t been there before. There were shadows and a certain edge to the sensual cut of his mouth.

  Lily drew in her breath to tell him it was wrong, they didn’t love one another, it was a chemical reaction, anything to drive him away, but he drew her closer to him, fit her body snugly against his. She could feel the hard bulge pressed against her, evidence of his body’s urgent demands. She felt as if she belonged to him. With him. No longer Lily but a part of Ryland. As if there would be no Lily without him.

  “It’s been hell without you, Lily. I can’t explain it any other way. With you, I can function. I can control what’s happening to me.”

  “You aren’t controlling yourself now.” She wasn’t entirely certain she wanted him in control. One hand was sliding lightly over her stomach, his fingers moving in a massaging caress impossible to ignore. She closed her eyes against the sensation and unexpectedly tears burned behind her lashes.

  Immediately his hand stopped moving. His breath hitched in his throat. “Don’t do that. Don’t hurt like that.” His hands reluctantly left the refuge of her body. He turned her into the shelter of his chest, his arms enfolding her close. His body was protective, his hands tender as they stroked her silky hair. “I know you’re confused right now. I know you don’t think what’s between us is real or that emotion plays a part in it, but you’re wrong, Lily. I think of you all the time, how you are, what you’re feeling. I love the sound of your voice, your smile. It isn’t just sex.”

  “It isn’t that.” Lily turned her head to rest it over the precise spot where his heart beat so steadily. It was happening all over again. Each time she was near him she could deny him nothing. She couldn’t look at him. She wasn’t certain she could ever look at him again. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

  Ryland stood very still. It was the last thing he expected. Lily was the epitome of confidence. She was beautiful and perfect and her mouth was a total sin. “Lily, honey, look at me.”

  Mutely she shook her head. Ryland stroked her hair, crushed the thick strands in his fist. He bent his head, inhaled her fragrance. Inhaled her scent. Lily. His Lily. “It would be an impossibility for me to be disappointed in you.”

  She pushed away from his warmth, from his solid body. “You shouldn’t be here. And I don’t want to talk about this.” It was too humiliating. She was already making a complete fool of herself. Lily thought to put distance between them, but they were in the confines of the bathroom and her back was up against the sink. Ryland was a large man, his broad shoulders filling the room, his body blocking the doorway. She faced him, shaking her head, her blue eyes sad. “You’re going to be expecting me to be like…” She frowned, waved her hand around, settled on one word. “Her.” Your hot little fantasy woman that can do everything. Anything. She blushed a vivid scarlet again, hoping the darkness would cover what was an appalling shade on her.

  He reached out, laced his fingers through hers, and tugged until she reluctantly followed him into her darkened bedroom. “I think we need to have a little talk, Lily.”

  Her heart jumped wildly. She allowed him to pull her toward the wide armchair beside the tall lamp. It was utterly ridiculous how helpless he could make her feel with just the velvet tone of his voice. Her body went into meltdown and she couldn’t think clearly.

  He seated himself comfortably, tugged on her hand until she fell against him. He settled her on his lap, all too aware she wore nothing beneath the shirt. His shirt. It pleased him that she wore his shirt. “I don’t think a little talk is going to help, Ryland. I can’t be that woman in our dream. I’ve never really been with a man. It was all imagination and reading.”

  “I want to read the books you’ve been reading.” His hands seemed to have a mind of their own, sliding over her bare thighs, long, gentle strokes to feel the petal soft skin of her. He had always known her skin would feel as it did. It was impossible to keep his hands off of her.

  His hands followed the path of her thigh, slid around to cup her bare bottom, massaging and stroking until she thought she might go out of her mind.

  “Ryland, it won’t be the same as it was in the dream.” She felt as if she were pleading with him, but she didn’t know if it was for him to believe her, or persuade her.

  “I hope not. I want it to be real. I want to be deep inside your body. I want your hands really touching my skin. It isn’t going to matter that you’re not experienced, Lily. It only matters that we want to please one another, enjoy one another.”

  She hated herself for being such a coward. They would be spectacular together and then he would walk away and leave her. “Do you think you’re making this any easier for either of us?” Lily leapt up as if his touch were burning her. It was burning her. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps. She paced across the
hardwood floor, back and forth, confused and slightly disoriented. “And what do you think is going to happen if we…if I let you…” She glanced at him from under long lashes. “Afterward…”

  His legs were stretched out comfortably and he was watching her, his gaze moving slowly, hotly over her body. Devouring every inch of her. At once she was aware of her naked body moving restlessly beneath the shirt. Her breasts ached and her body felt heavy, throbbed for release. For him. “Afterward, I hope to start all over again. And again. And again. It will never be enough for me.”

  Lily shook her head and backed away from him. “We both know you’ll have to leave me eventually. It will be that much harder when you go.”

  He rose in one fluid movement, stalking her right across the bedroom floor. Lily backpedaled hastily to elude him. “It can’t get much harder than it already is, Lily.” His voice found its way into her bloodstream, creating a molten river. He reached out with his incredible speed and shackled her wrist with his fingers.

  At once she went very still, her stomach somersaulting. She ached for him. If she closed her eyes to block out the sight of him, it wouldn’t matter. He was already deep inside of her. And which would be worse? Having him and watching him walk away from her? Or never having him and feeling empty for the rest of her life? She would rather have the memory of a real experience than a dream.

  “Lily?” His voice was velvet soft like the night itself. The fingers wrapped so loosely around her wrist like a bracelet suddenly tightened, brought her up short. “Lily, what am I feeling right now?”

  She forced her gaze to meet his. Allowed herself to absorb his raw emotions. Desire. It was hard-edged. Dangerous. Primal. The force of his hunger for her body shook her. He didn’t flinch away from the knowledge in her eyes.

  “How can you think there’s separation from your body and your mind and heart? I need you. Want you. Every square inch of you, Lily. Is that such a terrifying thing? Are you so afraid of me? Of being with me?”

  Was there a note of hurt in his voice? He always sounded so in command, in control, yet there was a curious vulnerability in him when he was with her. She continued to look up at him, unable to break away from his mesmerizing gaze. From the stark desire she saw there.

  Ryland moved then, slowly lowering his head to hers. Inch by slow inch. All the while holding her captive with the power of his glittering eyes. Her pulse, beneath the pad of his thumb, raced wildly. His lips moved against hers. Gently. Skimming. Barely touching. “You’ve forgotten to breathe.” His breath was warm on her skin, on her mouth, breathing for her, sharing the very air in his lungs.

  His lips were soft. Velvet soft. Heat curled in her stomach, pooled into a sweet ache. Ryland leaned closer, his lips rubbing over hers, teasing at the corners of her mouth, small little nibbles. An enticement. A temptation. His tongue traced the line of her lips, a gentle persistence completely at odds with the tremor of intense hunger that ran beneath the surface of his body.

  His hands were gentle, tender even, as one curled around the nape of her neck to hold her still. The other followed the line of her back, the curve of her hips to rest possessively on her bottom.

  A flame shot through her bloodstream, wild and hot and all at once out of control. The sensation was shocking when he was so gentle, coaxing her response rather than demanding it. Lily felt weak with wanting him, tired of fighting the attraction between them. The temptation of heat and fire stole her good sense. Her mouth moved under his, her lips soft and pliant and welcoming.

  His mouth hardened, became hot and dangerous, compelling her to open for him, her dark sorcerer claiming his rights. At once she was swept into another world, one of pure feeling, of colors and sensations. Tongues of fire raced along her skin. Every nerve ending came alive. Her blood was thick and hot with need. Her body craving, craving, until her arms crept around his neck and her body molded itself to his.

  Her breasts ached, her body throbbed. His hands cupped her bottom, lifting, pressing her against the thick evidence of his arousal, rubbing her close until the friction was almost too much to bear.

  Ryland groaned, a sound of stark need. “I’m losing my sanity, Lily. I burn for you, day and night.” The words were whispered against her open mouth. “It’s not comfortable or pleasant, it hurts like hell. Put me out of my misery, honey. Help me, Lily. I can’t think with wanting you.”

  “Want” was such an insipid word. How could he explain to her what it was like for him? Day and night thinking of her, dreaming of her, a drug in his bloodstream, a craving that couldn’t be sated. His body was always hot and unmercifully hard. There were no words adequate enough, intense enough, to describe the nights of sweat-soaked sheets and days with his jeans stretched so damned tight over his hard body he thought he might never be able to take another step without pain again.

  His hands on her bare bottom cupped her firm muscles, began a slow, intimate massage, deliberately, wickedly enticing her.

  Lily couldn’t breathe with wanting him. His mouth fastened to hers, devouring her, the gentle coaxing manner lost in the inferno building between them. She let her body answer for her, without words, giving consent with her hands, sliding possessively over his body, while her tongue dueled with his.

  Ryland groaned softly, low in his throat, somewhere between a growl and a purr. Lily was trembling beneath his hands. He didn’t want her to be afraid or nervous, not even for a moment. “I dreamt of this moment, Lily.” He lifted her easily, casually, his mouth roaming her face and throat as he carried her to the bed. “So many times, I dreamt of this.”

  Lily could feel the coolness of the sheet against her back as he pressed her into the mattress. His hands were strong, determined, possessive even as they roamed over her body. His face was etched with deep emotion, his eyes burning. He swept away the shirt, dropping it carelessly on the floor. She heard him gasp, the hitch in his breath, the husky sound in his throat. His palms trailed over her skin slowly from her shoulders, over the swell of her breasts, along her narrow rib cage to her tucked-in waist and the flat expanse of her stomach. “It’s amazing how soft your skin feels.”

  His touch was exquisitely gentle, completely at odds with the terrible hunger burning in his eyes. He bent his head slowly to her breast. His breath reached her skin first. Warm. Moist. His lips were soft.

  Lily jumped under his seeking mouth, all at once so sensitive even the brush of his hair was erotic against her skin.

  Ryland was determined to go slow, stay in control, hold his terrible hunger for Lily under some sort of rein. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her. There was plenty of time for wild cravings—right here, right now, it was all about pleasing Lily.

  Go slow. Go slow. The words beat like a litany in his head. His fingers trembled as they stroked her breasts. Worshiped her. He closed his mouth around the soft mound, a tight wet bond, his tongue dancing over her taut nipple as he suckled.

  Lily cried out, arched into him, craving his touch, needing more. Always more. “Take your clothes off, Ryland,” she pleaded, “I want to touch you, look at you.” Her voice, hungry with urgency, hungry for him, shook him. She had known the moment she laid eyes on him that she wanted him and she had immediately begun to educate herself, learning as much as she could about sexual appetites, wanting to know how to please him. Nothing she read or watched had prepared her for what she was feeling.

  She had thought she would be embarrassed and afraid to be naked in front of him, but instead she reveled in the way he looked at her. The way he touched her. The way his gaze burned over her so possessively.

  Ryland lifted his head, studied her cloudy eyes, her soft mouth swollen from his ravaging kisses. “I’m trying to be gentle, honey.” He attempted to explain, but the words were trapped in his heart. His hands were already pulling off his clothes, flinging them aside. His heart beat like thunder. He had fantasized this moment so often, his body in a continual state of arousal for so long, he feared anything he said could n
ever describe how he felt about her. There were no words. She was a fever in his blood, a craving, obsession, she was his heart and soul. How could he say that to her? “I swear I won’t hurt you.” He meant ever. Not with his body and not with his mind.

  Lily stared up at him, lying in the darkness, mesmerized by the dark passion etched deeply into his face. He took her breath away. Every muscle in her body was weak with wanting him, every cell on fire for his touch. She should have been afraid of his craving, the intensity of his terrible hunger, but within her body, in the shadowy corners of her soul, she found her own secret desires.

  There was no ice running in her veins, there was molten lava. Deep inside of her stirred a volcano, hot and thick and ready to erupt, swirling to the surface to meet his every demand. Eagerly. Wantonly. She reached for him. “I’m a woman, Ryland, not a porcelain doll. I know exactly what I want.”

  Their mouths fused together, electric and hot. Her hands moved over him, needing to feel every muscle, just as he needed to explore her body. He kept to his plan, using slow torture to arouse her to a frightening pitch. He suckled her lush breasts, his tongue teasing, his teeth scraping gently, his mouth hot and moist. He traced her ribs, the flat of her stomach. The curve of her hip, every hollow. He wanted every one of Lily’s secrets. He wouldn’t take anything less.

  “Ryland, please,” Lily’s body was so sensitive she was afraid she was going to cry with wanting him. She was aching and heavy and beyond reason.

  “Look at me, baby,” he said softly, directing her gaze to the heavy erection. “I’m a big man and I’ll be damned if I’ll hurt you, even a little.”