Lightning Game (GhostWalkers 17) - Page 134

“You ready for this?”

Her gaze clung to his, those large eyes a little dazed but dark blue with desire. Her skin was flushed, nipples hard little pebbles. “More. All of you.”

Rubin didn’t wait. He drew his hips back, was rewarded with a gasp and a shake of her head. He plunged deep, driving through her thin barrier and burying his body fully in hers. Her core temperature seemed to grow even hotter. White-hot friction sizzled through his body. Sent electrical currents raging. Their combined thunderstorm threatened to burn out of control.

He tried to stay gentle, but Jonquille caught the rhythm and made her own demands, moving into him, crying out with a sobbing breath for more. He plunged deep, dragging his heavy cock over her sensitive bundle of nerves over and over. Her velvet-soft muscles squeezed and stroked his cock mercilessly with what felt like a thousand tongues of scalding heat, giving him such exquisite pleasure he wasn’t certain he would survive.

Jonquille moaned his name. Chanted it. Her nails dug into his shoulder. Slid down his back. Her hips rose to meet his eagerly. Rubin pulled her body even closer to him, sliding her legs easily over his arms, giving him a different angle. He never took his gaze from hers. Or his mind from hers. He wanted to know if there was one single sign of discomfort.

Her sheath was hot—scorching hot—and growing hotter with every fiery plunge he took. He set up a hard, fast, very deep rhythm. She felt like a sweet tunnel of pure silken lightning, that white-hot fist gripping him in a fierce, possessive clasp. He just continued to burn hotter and hotter. Or she did. Or they did. His balls tightened. Power coiled hot and bright.

“Keep looking at me, Jonquille. Let go with me.” She was close as well. He felt her.

Jonquille didn’t—couldn’t—look away. Everything Rubin did to her sent pleasure spiraling through every nerve ending. It was as if he was so connected to her that he could tune to the electrical charges in her body and set them on fire. Her mind was nothing but sheer chaos. Rubin’s cock pistoned into her over and over, and each time sent lightning zigzagging through her body from core to breasts and back. The electrical storm between them was so fierce and connective that even without the lead strokes coming from the clouds, little sparks like fireflies danced around her outer skin and leapt from his body to hers.

The streaks of fiery light didn’t deter Rubin at all. His features were a mask of pure sensuality, his eyes intense, focused, primal, almost feral. He moved fast and hard in her, his relentless, burning cock threatening to destroy her. Flames sizzled inside her with every thrust, streaked through her, around her, around them. The crackling bolts burned through her body, taking her higher and higher, that pressure deep inside coiling tighter and tighter until she was afraid she would lose her mind.

The fireball inside her roared and thundered, spun and ricocheted off the walls of her body, but she couldn’t breathe or think. The tension kept building. She’d always been hot. Too hot. Afraid she would burn from the inside out. Now it was really true. All around her she would see the evidence of the lightning bugs spilling out of her body, too hot to be contained. Zipping through the air all around her.

Rubin continued to surge into her, and she never wanted him to stop because she was desperate. She needed. But she didn’t know what. But this time, the fire was too hot. The lightning too close, with nowhere to let it go. The electrical charges were going to destroy her—destroy him. She couldn’t let that happen, but she didn’t know how to stop it.

My lightning bug. Just step off the cliff with me and fly.

Rubin’s hands tightened on her. There was love in his eyes. Tenderness. Right there for her to see. It had been there all along. Looking into his eyes, she let the strength of the sensations rushing through her body take her over. Fear receded enough to allow her to feel the intensity of the roaring fire as all pleasure. His shaft swelled even more, pressing tightly against her channel. In reaction, her silken muscles clamped down on his cock hard, like a vise, even while he pumped in and out of her, causing the friction to be wilder. Hotter.

She felt the contractions, the ripples of pleasure spreading through her entire body. This was a storm at its best, an electrical outpouring of heat and fiery fury rushing through her in a torrent of flames. Her body locked down almost viciously on his, grasping greedily, squeezing and milking his thick, long cock with her scalding-hot muscles, forcing him with her.

Her blood had never been this hot, pumping through her body in a complete firestorm while thunder crashed in her ears. Flames, white hot and sparking like fireflies, burned over her skin and behind her eyes. The lightning storm in her body seemed endless, the waves crashing through her strong and fierce, a beautiful fury rocking her. She heard her own cry. Heard his hoarse shout. Her bones seemed to melt until she became pure energy, just a white-hot streak twined with Rubin, melded together, wearing the same skin, sharing the same mind where she floated in nothing but pleasure.

Tags: Christine Feehan GhostWalkers Paranormal
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