Christine Feehan - Shadowgame

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.