Phantom Game (GhostWalkers 18)

She was beyond every expectation he’d imagined. When he was finally able to bury himself all the way inside her, when they were wearing the same skin, sharing their bodies, he could barely breathe. Fire streaked through him, through her, through their veins. Nerve endings lit up. Rockets went off.

He was careful for the first two orgasms he gave, but then Jonas began to move without inhibition, forgetting to worry about control. Letting himself take her the way he needed, hard and fast, his body a frenzy of brutal strokes. The friction sent waves of fire down his spine, rushing up his thighs, centering in his groin. He didn’t want the feeling to ever end.

He caught her hips, fingers biting deep, and drove into all that scorching heat. He felt her body coiling around his. Biting down viciously. Heaven and hell. Then she was crying out his name as her body clamped down viciously on his, strangling his cock, milking ropes of seed from him. He emptied himself into her with hard, fierce jerks of his cock until there was nothing left, and he collapsed over the top of her, burying his face in her neck, fighting just to breathe.

Jonas had no idea how long he lay there before he was able to kiss her behind her ear and roll off of her so he wouldn’t suffocate her. “Can you breathe?”

“I think so.”

“Give me a minute, and I’ll get a washcloth and glass of water. I don’t think I can move yet.”

She laughed softly. “I think you wore us both out. Who knew it would be like that with us?”

“I knew.” He had known. He turned his head. “You should have known too.”

That little laugh of hers came again, galvanizing him into action. He rolled off the bed and procured the water and a warm washcloth, handing the glass to her but handling the washcloth duty himself, which made her laugh again. He loved that laugh. She stayed on the bed after drinking the water, with just the sheet over her. Personally, he didn’t see the need for that, so he removed it.

“Are you aware that the plants you have growing right off your front porch are very rare camellias?” she asked, turning her head to look at him.

She looked sated lying on her stomach, her lashes at half mast, her features soft. Jonas slid his hand possessively from the nape of her neck down her spine to the curve of her bottom. He knew he would never take it for granted that she was in his bed.

He shook his head. It wasn’t that he doubted her. She obviously knew her plants, but even though he only had a very basic knowledge of camellias, and he knew there was a wide variety, his home was at a high altitude, and every winter, there was deep snow to contend with.

“I haven’t done any landscaping yet. There shouldn’t be anything growing close to the house. The winters are harsh, and I need to really study which plants will thrive at this elevation. I also want to make certain I have protection around the house—ground cover, but nothing that will impede my view from the windows.”

“Nevertheless, you have quite a few shrubs growing, and they are camellias. Rare ones. I thought you planted them.” She turned her face back to the pillow. “I’m getting hungry. Do you have groceries here, or do you always eat at the main compound?”

“I keep groceries here. I have a little greenhouse out back. I like fresh vegetables. Ian makes fun of me all the time, but he raids my greenhouse.”

She turned back to look at him. “He makes fun of you for growing veggies?”

“Mostly because I put in the greenhouse before the house was finished. And I slept in it a few times.”

Her eyebrow shot up.

He laughed. “Okay, quite a few times. The greenhouse was the warmest place I had at the time, and there was food inside. Ian caught on after a while. He has this really cool ability to see through walls, so he always knew when the tomatoes were ripe or the cucumbers were ready. I locked my greenhouse on multiple occasions. Darned if my best produce wasn’t stolen anyway. I put cameras in there, didn’t tell a single soul, mostly because I suspected he was the culprit. He’s big too. You’ve seen him. It’s not like he can hide that easily.”

Camellia reached out and gently ran her finger down his face. That little caress was light. He normally avoided anyone touching him, always feeling like a cat with its fur rubbed the wrong way, but with her, it was just the opposite. She managed to make him feel cared for with just a single brush of her finger.

“Did the camera catch him?” Her hand dropped away.