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Ruthless Game g-9 Page 38
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Kane managed to rip off his clothes in record time, feeling almost desperate to be inside her. He felt like he’d waited a lifetime for this moment—much like he did every single time he took her, which was as often as he could. He dragged her very sexy, silk-clad legs around him, lifting them over his arms so that he could use leverage, and drove deep into her pulsing center.
The feeling was exquisite. Hot, living silk grasping him, clasping tightly, stroking and caressing him. Each time he entered her, he was shocked at the need building so fast in him. He wanted hours inside that tight haven. Dark lust crossed his face, made his fingers flex once right before he began plunging into her over and over, hard and fast, a desperate man. Her breathy cries incited him, her dazed, sexy look, the spill of her breasts over the demi-cups excited him all the more. No one was more sexy to him—no one ever would be.
Sensations tore through him with each hard stroke. He tried to keep her still, pinning her hips, feeling her muscles tighten around him, sending streaks of fire rushing from his groin throughout his body. He groaned, trying to tell her, trying to stop her. He needed more time with her. Always more time. Her keening cries only fed his arousal, sending him careening out of control.
Rose dug her nails into Kane’s back. His cock felt like steel driving through her scalding velvet folds. She could barely catch her breath, barely hang on as the room around her spun away and there was only his body pounding into hers, sending fire racing through her, into her veins, into her belly, streaking down her legs so that she locked her ankles, high heels and all, behind his back, rocking with him, thrusting up to meet each surge.
She had no warning, no tightening of her body, only the sudden ripping through of a wild rogue wave, high and long, taking her tumbling over the edge of a cliff, her body spiraling out of control. She couldn’t scream, couldn’t find breath, could only hang on while she shattered beneath him.
Kane felt her body clamp down like a vise on his, milking and grasping, the friction sending him plummeting, free-falling, while his body burned and his heart raced. She consumed him. Burned him clean. Took him somewhere he couldn’t reach on his own or with any other woman. He collapsed over the top of her. Rose. His miracle.
“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispered. An admission. A confession. The raw truth.
She put her arms around him, holding him to her. “I love you more than you could possibly know.”
He smiled, satisfied, not moving, his body locked with hers, his weight holding her there on the floor, his arms keeping her spread open, their hearts pounding in rhythm. When he managed to bring his ragged breathing under some semblance of control, he pushed her bra away from her breasts, bending his head to suckle there. He teased her nipple, laving and drawing that hard peak into the hot depths of his mouth. She gasped, her body writhing under his assault, her sheath clamping down hard as more ripples spread through her.
He lifted his head and grinned at her. “We don’t really have to go back to the party, do we? Because I’d love to just feast on your body all night.”
Rose stared up at his face with stars in her eyes. Her arms went around his neck, drawing his head back down to her flushed breasts. “Feast away, Kane. I’ll never have enough of you, and after all, this is our night.”
One thing about Kane—he never did anything by halves.
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