Christine Feehan - Deadly Game

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Christine Feehan, New York Times bestselling author explores the limits of endurance and the boundaries of passion in a life-and-death struggle to survive…
It begins as a mission to protect a politician from an assassination threat. But the operation takes an unexpected turn when Mari, a mysteriously beautiful GhostWalker, is taken hostage. At the same time, Ken Norton, expert assassin and himself a GhostWalker warrior, is on a mission of his own-one that reaches into Mari's own past. No stranger to the ways of violent warfare, Mari must join forces with Ken and trust his every move-each one more intimate than the last.

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"'Yes, baby, that's it, milk me dry."

She couldn't stop. Her body clamped down around his, draining him, greedy for him. A harsh groan escaped his throat as his body pumped into hers. She actually felt faint, the edges around her shadowing and darkening. She clung to reality, refusing to be so weak that she would faint from sheer pleasure. There were tears in her eyes, in her throat. Nothing could be this good. Nothing could ever feel like this again.

Ken lifted his weight onto his elbows, hanging his head while he struggled to breathe. He caught her tears with his tongue and then kissed the corners of her mouth.

Mari touched his face. They were still locked together and he was smiling down at her, something very close to love on his face. She swallowed hard. "I can't move."

"You don't have to move. Just lie there and look beautiful. I'm just getting started."

Her eyes widened. "Started on what?"

"You, sweetheart. I've got all night to learn what you like best."

Chapter 20

Feeling drowsy and entirely satisfied, Mari woke to find herself wrapped in Ken's arms. His body was tight up against hers, his erection pressed against her buttocks. She couldn't believe he could possibly be hard again and ready, but the thought excited her. He had ridden her throughout the night, over and over, his voice growling rough orders in her ear. his hands every bit as demanding as his mouth and body, as if he could never get enough of her. She didn't want him to ever get enough. Before she could move, stroke her palm over his tempting hard-on, his soft laughter tickled her ear.

"Get the hell out of here, Briony. You're such a brat. We're sleeping."

"You've been sleeping for hours. I want to meet my sister."

Mari's heart pounded, but she couldn't look up. didn't dare. Her mouth went dry and her stomach rolled.

"Jack! Damn it. I'm naked in here and this is just wrong. Your woman has no sense of propriety."

"Stop being a baby. I'm just looking at my sister, not you, so don't flatter yourself."

Ken laughed and the sound ripped through Mari like a tidal wave, knotting her stomach with something all too close to jealousy. She recognized the emotion although she'd never experienced it before. Ken didn't laugh that often, but she could hear the easy affection in his voice. He genuinely cared for Briony, and Ken didn't care for that many people. It had never occurred to Man that she might be jealous of another woman-especially when that woman was her pregnant sister.

Ashamed, she took a deep breath to calm herself. Life was happening too fast for her. She had wanted to see Briony her entire life, yet now, faced with the reality, she was frightened. Mart forced herself to look up, to smile, to pretend her heart wasn't thudding in her chest and that one wrong word, one look of disappointment wouldn't crush her-destroy her.

Briony was short, with platinum and gold hair. She wore it a little longer than Man, a little softer style. It framed her face and called attention to her large, dark eyes. She had an obviously rounded tummy, but the rest of her remained slim. Mari stared at her sister, astonished at how much they looked alike, yet how different at the same time. Briony was everything she was not. Soft. Feminine. It really showed. Even her body was subtly different, and it had nothing to do with the pregnancy. She had softer curves, where Mari's muscles were small, but defined.

Briony seemed to be having trouble looking at her, keeping her concentration on Ken. "You're so lazy. Get out of bed, Ken. I waited and waited."

He threw a pillow at Briony. "You didn't wait long enough. And look at you! Your tummy is bigger than a beach ball."

Briony threw the pillow back at him. "That's not what a pregnant woman wants to hear. Get up and bring my sister out to me now !" Her gaze shifted to Mari, tears swimming in her eyes. She choked back a sob and turned and ran from the room.

Ken shifted Mari so she was facing him, her breasts pressed tightly against his chest, his thigh flung carelessly over hers, pinning her beneath him. "You're trembling, sweetheart. You didn't say a word to her and she said nothing to you. Talk to me."

She shook her head. "She's perfect. You know she is. She's so feminine."

Ken bit back his first reaction and bent his head to her breasts. His teeth tugged and teased, tongue sliding over her creamy flesh. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, Mari. Surely you can't think she won't like you?"

She shivered and cradled his head to her. He made her feel beautiful and wanted. Staying in bed with him seemed her only recourse. "I've never been so scared of meeting anyone in my life."

His mouth burrowed between her breasts, blazed a trail of fire up her throat and chin to the corner of her lips. "You'll do fine. Take a quick shower and we'll go together. I'll be right there with you."

Her body was deliciously sore. She stretched languidly, sliding against him, skin to skin, loving the feel of him against her. He gave her the courage she needed to take ahold of life, and this was her most important day. Briony had been so important to her. Mari had made her into a fantasy. Everything she had ever wanted to be-everything she wanted to have, to do-Mari had imagined it all for Briony. Mari had nothing but a stark, cold, much disciplined life, and she wanted the world for Briony.

Her arms slipped around Ken and she held him to her ferociously. She felt almost desperate, wanting to fit into his world but knowing she didn't. Briony fit. Seeing her just made that clearer. Mari was a soldier. It was her way of life. Ken didn't see her as a soldier; he saw her as soft and gentle, and the reality was so very far from that image.

Ultimately, Briony was a stranger to her. If Briony couldn't accept her with all of her shortcomings, it was going to hurt, but it would be okay. Her sisters were the women who had been forged in fire, just as she had been. They knew discipline and duty and what it was like to be held prisoner, vulnerable and helpless. They knew her. They understood her. and they loved her. They were willing to risk everything with her. She belonged with them.

Choking on tears, heart aching, she kissed Ken, nibbled at his lips and licked the scar that split his mouth into two soft segments. She'd fallen in love with that scar. "Come with me to the shower."

Ken made love to her, taking his time, with the water spraying down on them, doing his best to be as gentle as he could as he held her in his arms. It didn't seem possible to have her with him in his home, that life could really be so good. In the end, no matter how he tried, the only way for him to be stimulated enough to gain relief was rough penetration. He heard the sound of their flesh meeting, like the slap of a hand, his body pounding into hers when she was already sore from a long night of his demands.

His fingers dug into her hips, taking her to the floor where there was no give, where the penetration was deep and her tight sheath gripped him the way he needed. The rougher he was, the more swollen and tight she became and the more pleasure he felt. He looked down at her, the water pouring over them, his fingerprints standing out on her soft skin, and he hated his body, hated who he was.

She wanted him, her body responded to everything he gave her, pushing her ability to accept pleasure and pain mingled together in order to accommodate his lusts, but how could she ever love him when he was so depraved and driven? When a monster lurked inside of him, one she'd caught glimpses of. Man was not a stupid woman, and she had lived her entire lifetime with violence. She knew he was capable of making her life hell, and in spite of loving her with his body-worshiping her-he could feel her moving away from him. He turned up toward the spray, letting it pour over his face and wash away the bum of tears.

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