Christine Feehan - Murder Game

He jerked convulsively and then shuddered with pleasure as he filled her with hot semen.

He stood behind her, buried deep, his arms wrapped around her waist now while she hung exhausted over the couch. He didn't even know how they'd gotten started in the first place, only that he would never be sated. He wanted to spend every waking minute just touching her, filling her.

Kadan rested his head on her back, drawing in great deep breaths. "You know, for me, you're my woman. My wife. Whenever you're ready, say the word and we'll do it legal. There's no way you weren't meant for me." Hell, he'd never believed in God; there were too many sick, perverted people in the world, too much crime, and too many natural disasters for him to believe anyone who cared was really out there in the cosmos watching. But Tansy was a miracle. For the first time in his life, it occurred to him that if there was really such a being, Kadan owed big-time-for Tansy, because he believed absolutely that she was created for him. And he knew he'd been created for her.

"Damn it, woman, you've even got me thinking spiritual crap." How pathetic was that?

Her body shook. He straightened up, allowing his shaft to slip out of her, enjoying the ripple that ran through her belly, telling him she was having delicious little aftershocks.

"Are you laughing at me?"

She turned her head, looking over her shoulder at him, a small smile teasing her mouth. "A little, yes."

"I have what could be a revelation and you're laughing." His hands were gentle as he helped her straighten up. He drew the edges of the shirt together and rebuttoned it.

"And your revelation is what?"

"You don't deserve to know." He leaned down to kiss her because he couldn't resist her beautiful mouth. "We've got work to do. Stop distracting me."

"You can set up the game pieces while I take a bath. If I don't, I'm going to be too sore to walk."

"I like that idea."

"You're so bad, Kadan." She tossed another grin over her shoulder and left him.

Kadan listened to the bathwater running as he pulled on jeans and padded barefoot into the war room. He didn't want her here, not where the photographs of the dead would surround them. He took the pieces out into the dining room and, wearing gloves, positioned them on the table in the order of the murders on the East Coast and then the West. He hated that she was going to do this, but he was going to make damned certain she didn't have the same repercussions as she'd had the time before.

Tansy surveyed the ivory pieces Kadan set on the table. The game pieces were beautifully carved. Whoever had made them knew what he was doing. Each figurine was detailed meticulously. She held her palm over the pieces, an inch or so above the tallest, and passed her hand over them, feeling the waves of excitement and violence embedded in the ivory. Taking a breath, she dipped her hand lower.

Kadan's hand slid beneath her wrist so fast it was a blur, his fingers circling hers and jerking her hand away before she could pick up one of the ivory carvings. Standing behind her, he held her wrist away from the game pieces. As he placed a proprietary hand on her shoulder, his body curved over hers so that his heat enveloped her.

"Wear gloves."

"But…" She frowned at him over her shoulder. "I won't pick up the details you need unless I touch the objects with my skin."

His grip tightened, fingers digging through the thin material of his silk shirt, into her soft shoulder and into the sensitive skin of her wrist. "Gloves." His voice brooked no argument. "See what impressions you get. We'll start there. If we're lucky, it will be enough."

"You know better, Kadan."

He pushed a pair of gloves into her hands.

"Do the men on your team ever tell you that you're a tyrant?"

She pulled the material over her hands and felt some of the tension leave his body. He'd already grilled her for an hour on the layout and security of the house, going over every single detail a hundred times, until she considered hitting him over the head with something. He was very thorough when it came to questioning-no, interrogating -someone.

"You're so dramatic." He slid his hand down her arm, tugged on the glove, and then splayed his fingers across her belly.

Heat spread as if he'd branded her. She felt the familiar ache beginning. His pressed even tighter around her, so that she felt him breathing in the same rhythm.

"You're distracting me."

"That's the point. Well…" There was grim amusement in his voice. "The point is, I want to touch you."

She was very aware of his body pressed tightly against hers. His shaft was full and heavy, rubbing along her bottom with only the thin tail of the shirt separating them. How could he be so ready so fast? A part of her was inescapably pleased. "I'm working here. Do you want to get this information or not? You're already handicapping me by insisting on the gloves."

"I'm protecting you. And I'm going to keep protecting you. I have the feeling that once you get started, you can't stop yourself."

She frowned and leaned forward to look over the game pieces. Kadan didn't move, and the action only pressed him tighter against her.

"You're going to have to go stand over there if you want this to work."

"I'm staying. Just get on with it."

Tansy sighed and forced herself to concentrate. Kadan had separated the game pieces into two groups. The first were the objects left behind at each crime scene on the East coast. The stallion, frog, snake, and blade. There were two stallions.

"Was the stallion the first murder?"

He nodded his head.

"Then they have a sequence. Like cards or a board game, they have a certain order and each player takes his turn. If you lined them up in the order you found them, the frog would commit the next murder."

"That's right." His breath fanned her cheek, moved the strands of hair falling around her face. His lips whispered over the nape of her neck.

"Kadan. Really. I can't do this."

"Yes, you can. But you're going to know where you are, and who you're with. You're not going to be pulled down that long tunnel into a nightmare. I'll be right here, real and solid, and nothing is going to take you from me."

She shook her head. "You're so crazy. Fine. I'll try."

She had to admit to herself she was a little afraid. There were so many of the game pieces, and the energy was strong, radiating out to her palm even through the material of the glove as she passed her hand over them. In a way, she was thankful for the distraction of Kadan's hard body and gentle hands. She knew once she began picking up impressions, there would be no feelings like she had now, the arousal peaking her nipples and teasing her thighs, the feel of his hand slipping under the tail of the shirt and shaping her bottom, his fingers doing their silky slide as he stroked her skin possessively.

She wanted to stay like this forever, feeling a part of him. Sharing his mind and the pleasure he got in just touching her. He loved just being able to slide his fingers over her, slip a hand inside her shirt and cup the weight of her breast, thumb caressing her nipple. The intensity of his enjoyment at simply stroking her skin was amazing to her and she didn't want to go back to the real world, where no one ever laid a hand her and she never dared to have actual contact.

I'm not going anywhere.

He couldn't promise that. She looked at the ivory figurines. If she touched them, and she couldn't control what happened, if the voices sank into her head, were trapped in her mind, he would have no choice but to abandon her.

Kadan swore and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do. We can't let them keep murdering people, Kadan. They have a taste for it and they won't stop." Tears burned behind her eyes. Usually there was one killer, one depraved mind she was forced to share. This time there were eight, and they were psychic, just as she was.