Spider Game (32 page)

“And baby, just so you know, we aren’t ‘trying’ this. There is no ‘if.’ This is it for both of us. We
are
doing this. The only thing we haven’t confirmed is whether or not you can meet my demands in bed, and after last night, I am more than certain you will.”

She made a small sound of distress. “Trap.”

She went back to whisper and he caught the huskiness that told him her throat hurt like hell. Before she could speak he interrupted her. “Use telepathy, Cayenne. Your throat needs rest.”

I don’t know the first thing about sex. Only the things I read. Only what you taught me last night.
 

“Did you enjoy what I did to you?”

Yes.
No hesitation.

“Did you enjoy what you did to me?” Just the thought of it, the hot haven of her mouth, the silken glide of her lips, the tight suction and dancing tongue, sent more blood coursing through his cock so that it swelled all over again from a semihard state to an iron spike.

Very much.
Again no hesitation.
I thought about it for most of the rest of the night, the way having you in my mouth and watching your face was so exciting. Knowing I could give you that. I dreamt about you. I have nightmares, so it was nice to have something different. When I woke up I felt hot and achy. I knew I needed you and I craved the taste of you. I just don’t know what to do about it.
She made her confession in a little rush.

He tugged on her long hair and then took several strands in his mouth to slide through his lips. “Your man knows what to do and I’ll be more than happy to help you learn. There’s no bullshit with you. Either you like something or you don’t. Talking to me, telling me what you’re feeling and if it works for you is everything. And you have to trust me. You gave yourself to me, Cayenne. That means you know I’m going to take care of you in
all
ways, including your body.”

He felt her tense and knew immediately her independent streak was as strong as his was. “I trust that you’ll do the same for me.” He meant that. He was giving himself into her keeping and he didn’t plan on holding back. He was doing this one time. With one woman. Going all in. He needed her to do the same.

“Sex isn’t all about the body, not when it’s between two people who care. It starts in your heart, Cayenne, and in your mind. It’s about giving and taking.”

Like last night.
 

“Yes. With that, you have to have trust that anything I do to you will end up rocking your world.”

I couldn’t let you have your hands, Trap,
she admitted.
I was too afraid.

He heard the shame in her voice.

I don’t like feeling fear. I especially am uncomfortable when I don’t know something. I’m used to having knowledge because anything I read, I retain. Since living outside my cell, I’ve found that practical experience and book knowledge are two different things. Sex is still an unknown.
 

“We’ll take care of that.”

Knowing that doesn’t alleviate the fear of the unknown, Trap,
she pointed out.
I studied you over the last four months. I’ve been in your bedroom countless times. You don’t sleep with clothes. I knew your body before I ever actually touched you. I wanted you even without ever really talking to you.

He knew that feeling. It had been the same for him. She’d intrigued him, and few things intrigued him. Fewer women did. The obsession had grown over the weeks until the scent of her in his room and the knowledge that she was close drove him to seek her out. He stayed quiet, willing her to continue. The more he understood, the faster he could make their life together work smoothly.

I don’t trust anything I don’t understand.
 

He didn’t either. He knew about Whitney’s pairing of two enhanced individuals. He wanted to create the perfect soldier. Cayenne matched him intellectually. She didn’t have an ounce of bullshit games in her, something very necessary in a woman for him. It was most likely the same for her. Whitney had a knack for finding the right partner, but he obviously felt he couldn’t control Cayenne. He didn’t like wild cards. He’d demonstrated that over and over, especially with the women. He seemed to easily terminate the women.

Every time I looked at you, my body suddenly wasn’t my own. I felt hot and needy and burned inside. I knew what the chemistry was because I’d read about it, but you hadn’t even touched me. It didn’t make sense.
 

“And you distrusted it.”

Of course I did. I fought your pull, but I couldn’t stay away. I was kind of upset that you fought it better than I did. I knew you felt it too.
 

There was a small silence. He waited. He had known she was there in his bedroom many nights, he just hadn’t been able to spot her or prove it. But he’d known and he’d jacked off to the scent of her, wanting her to watch, groaning her name when he came in a white-hot fountain of brutal need.

When you did that, when I watched, it was literally the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I’d watched a few films on the Internet, but they didn’t in any way make me feel anything. When I saw and heard you, I wanted to crawl all over you, to put my mouth on your cock and to taste you. I needed to lick you clean. I burned. I burned every night I saw you do that and didn’t really know how to make it go away.
 

It wasn’t the best time for her to be telling him this. She needed to sleep, and right now, his cock was so fucking hard he was afraid he would explode, just burst apart. Still, he wanted to hear it. He needed to. She thought she was giving him facts, not realizing she was giving him the world.

No one has ever done any of the things for me that you did. You made me a home. You gave me food. You talked to me like no one else has ever done. You bought me shoes and clothes. I don’t know why you want me, Trap, I don’t know what I can give you back, but I want this. I just don’t understand your life or where I fit into it.
 

He understood immediately. She was all but asking if she fit into his world there in their home, and in the outside world as well.

“Baby, are you afraid I won’t want you outside our home?”

There was a small silence.
I’m afraid either way. I want to share every aspect of your life and feel part of it. I didn’t like feeling as if I wasn’t in the know with your team, that you all were part of something I wasn’t. On the other hand, the thought of learning that side of things, being with your friends, out in public, that absolutely terrifies me. You weren’t shielding my face from the camera because of Whitney. You knew he already knew where I was. You didn’t want the world to see me.

“I wanted to protect you from that side of my life as long as possible. You need a chance to get to know me better, to trust that you can follow my lead in public and know that I’ll always have your back. I want you comfortable with my friends, with my team and with bodyguards so when you have to face that side of my life, you aren’t terrified. I know what I’m asking of you, and you don’t yet. It’s enormous. You’re giving me so much more than what I’m giving you.”

That isn’t possible. You’re giving me…
life. I existed, Trap, but I wasn’t human. No one but you has ever seen me as a woman. As a human being. As someone worthwhile.
 

“That may be true, baby, but any number of men who aren’t arrogant and rude and have the paparazzi hanging around constantly would want to make you feel that. Someone who isn’t bringing you into the mess that is their life. You aren’t getting a prize. Money, maybe, but no prize life.”

She pushed her body back against his. Tight. Melting into him. He felt her soft amusement there in his mind. Filling him. He loved that she made him feel as if he could never be alone because she would always be there, inside of him.

I’m getting the best prize, Trap. You’ll always be that for me.
 

He closed his eyes, knowing he had to let her sleep. He felt her weariness and knew her fatigue was bone deep. Exhaustion had set in and she was already drifting. He hoped he was the best for her because he wasn’t going to give her up. He was going to fight for her with every breath in his body.

CHAPTER 13

I
’m getting the best prize, Trap. You’ll always be that for me.
 

Cayenne’s voice woke Trap from his restless sleep. He was instantly alert. Aware. His body rock hard. Little jackhammers tripped in his head, drilling deep, digging relentlessly at his brain until the pain was brutal.

She was there with him. His body was wrapped possessively around hers, his hands holding her to him, his legs and arms trapping her close. She hadn’t moved in her sleep, not even to put an inch between them. He would have known the moment she’d tried.

When I saw and heard you, there in your room all those nights, I wanted to crawl all over you, to put my mouth on your cock and taste you. I needed to lick you clean. I burned. I burned every night after I saw you do that and didn’t really know how to make it go away.
 

He closed his eyes, savoring the sound of her voice, remembering the feel of her sinful mouth on him. So hot. Burning her brand into him. The jackhammers drilled deeper, insistently, sending shards of glass through his mind. His cock was pure steel, a thick, savage spike as relentless as the spikes pushing into his brain. Pushing against her body, he couldn’t control the jerk of need, the throb of hunger, the rush of hot blood centering in his groin in a painful demand.

Trap inhaled, taking her scent deep into his lungs.
Baby. I can’t sleep anymore.
It was still dark and he didn’t need a clock to tell him it was around three A.M. The webs shrouding their bed added to the sensual, erotic need flooding him.
I can’t wait, Cayenne. If I don’t fuck you soon, I swear to God, woman, I’m going to come apart.

He felt her pour inside his mind. Nerves were there, but no resistance. She was a little drowsy, but already, he could feel the same urgent need building in her. Not brutal or primitive like it was in him, but there all the same.

He slid his hand up her belly to cup her breast.
So soft. Nothing like it. You feel like pure silk.
He used his finger and thumb to roll her nipple. To tug gently. An exquisite torture for both of them. He knew from the night before that her breasts were sensitive. He applied a little more pressure, a pinch then a soothing brush. A flash of heat and then another soothing touch.

I want my mouth here. Right now, baby.
 

His hand urged her to turn slightly so she was on her back. Again she didn’t protest. She went onto her back for him, his body tight against hers, his hand still on her breast. He didn’t wait for her to settle, he dipped his head and took the offering. His mouth closed over her lush right breast, his hand working her left one. He suckled while his fingers kneaded. He used his teeth and tongue while his fingers rolled and tugged.

He may have started out gently, but with every hitch of her breath, every keening gasp and soft mewling cry, he got a little rougher. He used the edge of his teeth, and heard more sweet music from her. He marked her deliberately, several strawberries over the slope of each breast, suckling strong, branding her. His teeth tugged and his tongue soothed.

She arched into him, giving him more, her arms going around his head to hold him to her. He fucking loved that. No matter how much he took, she offered him more. She responded to his rough play, and when he interspersed harsh with gentle, her body writhed against his, silently begging for more.

He slid his hand down her soft belly to trace the pattern of the hourglass nestled in the center of the black curls. Her curls were silky, the red of the hourglass even silkier if that was possible.

I’m going to get a tattoo of this
, he murmured softly into her mind, more of a thought than words. The pads of his fingers brushed through the tight curls.
A spiderweb and a couple of spiders with this beautiful red hourglass.

You like it? In my hair and also down there? I can’t make it go away.
She sounded breathless. Shocked. Sensual. As if the thought of a tattoo matching her hourglass meant something to her.

He was absolutely honest with her.
I would be very upset with you if you found a way to make this beautiful hourglass go away. It’s part of you. Why would you want to change that?
There was an edge to his voice and in his mind.
I fucking love the hourglass. In your hair. In your curls
. He stroked the design, feeling the soft tiny straight hairs nestled inside the vee of curls.

I look different from other women.
 

You look like you. I love the way you look
,
everything about the way you look, especially the hourglass right here and in your hair.

His hand cupped the patch of curls, fingers curling, finding her warm, wet entrance. His thumb brushed across all that damp heat. For him. Satisfaction eased some of the tightness in his gut. In spite of her nerves, she hadn’t pulled away, and her body responded to his closeness. More, when he slid a finger into her, her body clamped down hard, trying to hold him inside, trying to take him deeper.