“I guess not. And the aftermath is a killer. You’d have to be somewhere totally protected to use it. They would have had you at their mercy anyway.”
“Like any psychic use, mind control has tremendous drawbacks, even more than most psychic talents, because you’re using such powerful energy. I don’t think Whitney can accept that. He wants his GhostWalkers to be flawless. That’s why he’s looking to the next generation. He’s thinking our children won’t have the repercussions of using psychic ability because they’ll be born with it.”
“I didn’t think of that. I just think of Whitney as insane. He’s gotten worse and worse over the years. He doesn’t seem to have to answer to anyone, and because of that, his experiments have become more bizarre.”
“Do you think Senator Freeman knows what goes on here?”
She shook her head. “Violet married him before Whitney started the breeding program. She couldn’t know. That’s why it was so important one of us speak to her. Why would Sean let me go if he planned on killing Freeman?”
“Because if Violet and Senator Freeman were dead, it wouldn’t matter that you were there. And you’re a sniper. They could have made you an accessory to killing a vice-presidential candidate. You wouldn’t be able to go anywhere or do anything with that threat hanging over your head.”
Mari pulled the cross and chain from under the mattress and slipped it over her head so that his gift settled in the valley between her br**sts. She loved the feel and weight of it. Her fingers went to the edge of his shirt. “The guard won’t be here until about five-thirty this morning. We have some time before you have to get out of here.” She pushed up the hem, exposing the crisscrossing scars. “I’ve wanted to do this ever since the first time I saw you.” She bent her head and kissed him, her lips satin soft against the forming ridges. “Can you feel that?”
He could—just barely. A soft shimmer of promise only, skating across his skin. He should stop her. The more he touched her, the more he possessed her, the more difficult it would be later to give her up. “Like a whisper.” His voice was hoarse.
He wasn’t man enough to stop her. Her wandering little mouth was just below his navel, teeth teasing scars, rasping over rigid skin, her tongue doing a little dance to ease each stinging bite.
“What about that?”
He closed his eyes, shifting onto his back, letting her work his pants open and down off his hips. It was dark in the room, but she could see the pattern of scars carrying lower and covering the thick, long erection she was building with those tiny sharp teeth, soft lips, and moist, velvet tongue. “Lower,” he growled. “Lower and a little harder.”
“You have no patience.” Her soft laughter played over his abdomen like a feather. “I’ll get there. I want to do a little exploring first, just see what feels the best.”
She might kill him before the night was over. Her lips were heated silk, gliding over him like butter, a sensation almost beyond his ability to feel—almost. It was just enough to make his c**k jerk and come to attention in breathless anticipation. Her teeth drove the breath from his lungs and sent fire rolling in his belly. Tiny, stinging bites covered by a stroke of her tongue.
Of its own accord his body arched toward her, his fists gripping her hair as a groan tore from his throat. His balls actually pulled up tight, so tight he feared he might explode as his c**k filled, stretching the scars painfully, his erection thickening, lengthening, and bulging with urgent need. He thought to say something—maybe a protest, hopefully not a plea—but his mind and tongue couldn’t get around the words when she wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft in a tight fist.
He looked down at her, at her large chocolate eyes, so dark with hunger, her expression eager and hungry. She looked wildly beautiful, the darker shadows playing over her na**d body. His gold cross swayed with her br**sts, teasing along her skin, caressing her as she moved over him. He could see his marks of possession on her skin from their earlier lovemaking and that sent another rush of heat surging through his veins.
Mari didn’t shrink from his vivid scars, the rigid lines crossing back and forth over his groin and scrotum. She studied him, fascinated, as if he were an ice cream cone and she couldn’t wait to start, but wasn’t certain where to begin. He held his breath as her head dipped forward and she licked a glistening bead from the top of the broad, lined head. She didn’t just lick. There was that same faint sensation as if butterfly wings had brushed over him, and then her teeth followed, scraping along the damaged skin, dragging out a cry of pleasure from him.
The breath slammed out of him. His jaw tightened. Every muscle in his body contracted. He fought for control. One touch and she was destroying him. He tugged on her hair, tried to drag her up, but even as he did, his h*ps surged forward, forcing his c**k against her soft, satin lips. He groaned again as her warm breath blew over him, as her mouth opened and slid over the broad head, tongue curling and teeth finding the most sensitive spot right beneath the ridge, the one his enemies had tried so hard to destroy. She bit down experimentally and fire shot through him, pulsed in waves, until he couldn’t breathe, fighting for air, fighting for sanity.
The pleasure was so intense he was certain he wouldn’t live through it. She was effectively destroying his belief in his own control. He couldn’t allow her to take that from him—it was far too dangerous. Her teeth scraped again, right over that sweet spot, and he writhed under her, forgetting all about danger. Her nails joined in, scraping back and forth over the ridged lines on his tight sac, and he wasn’t certain he knew his own name. She was killing him, stars exploding behind his eyelids, lashes of a white-hot lightning whip streaking through his bloodstream.
“More, Mari. Hard and hot.” He bit the command out through clenched teeth.
Her mouth closed over the head of his shaft, tight and hot and so exquisite, adding suction to the combination of teeth and tongue, and he nearly came off the bed. There was no preparation for what she was doing to him. Sweet hell, she was burning him alive with her mouth. Her teeth found every nerve ending he was certain had been severed, and they were doing a fast repair.
She moaned deep in the back of her throat, and the vibration traveled straight through his c**k to his balls and spread down his thighs and up into his belly. He couldn’t stop the hard thrust of his hips. He tried, straining for control, but it was impossible with the roaring in his head and his heart beating like thunder in his ears.
A soft curse tore from him as he slipped deeper, as her throat constricted tightly around him, milking at him until his seed boiled up hot and vicious. He caught her head, holding her to him as fiery heat washed over him, flames crackling at the base of his spine and washing over his body. Her teeth found that one spot right under the lip of the broad head, scraping as she took him deep again, her throat once more constricting.
He came apart, a violent explosion of body and senses, his life no longer his own, the pleasure consuming him, eating him alive. He shuddered with the release, his h*ps almost wild, thrusting deep helplessly, and each time her teeth or tongue added to the hot, tight suction, he gripped her harder, anchoring himself in the silk of her hair.
She owned him, body and soul. He might think he could make her dependent on him sexually, tie her to him with the way he could control her body, but she would never need him the way he needed her. He knew it as surely as he knew his heart and soul were forever in her hands.
She gave one last curling rasp with her tongue and released him. He drove her back, catching her wrists, yanking her arms above her head and slamming them to the mattress, his body still hard and aggressive and vibrating with need. His thighs pushed hers apart and he thrust into her, driving through tight velvet folds, forcing his entrance as deep as possible, needing her to take every inch of his thick, scarred cock.
There was resistance, her body slick and welcoming but far too tight, and in spite of her breathy little pants and pleading moans, her muscles tried to lock out his invasion. The reaction only added to his excitement and need to possess her, heightening his pleasure as he forced his shaft deeper, the muscles reluctantly, and barely, parting for him, squeezing hard against the scars, dragging across the damaged nerve endings until he felt fire sizzling up and down his spine.
“Wrap your legs around my waist.” He loved looking at her, feasting on the sight of her body spread out before him like a never-ending buffet. Her eyes were glazed with need, her hair wild and spilling like strands of silk across the pillow. A sheen made her br**sts seem to glow, creamy flesh with tight ni**les begging attention and his cross glittering on her skin. He loved her tucked-in waist and the flare of her hips, but mostly he loved the soft little sounds of desperation that came from her throat as her body turned to liquid fire around his. “You’re so f**king beautiful, Mari.”
He bent forward to kiss her neck, the action deliberately producing an electrifying friction over her most sensitive spot. He sucked on the little pulse beating in her throat, dipped lower to find her breast, and did the same thing, feeling the answering wash of her hot cream make his next thrust easier. His teeth and tongue spent time worshiping there, while he waited for her tight body to accept the invasion of his.
“Please,” she whispered urgently, her body thrusting up toward his, as he sank once again into her and held still, savoring the feel of her body surrounding his.
“Shh, I’ll make it good for you, sweetheart. You need a little time to catch up.”