Deadly Game

Chapter 10

Mari slept on and off for the next two days, slowly gaining her strength back. Ken stayed with her most of the time, but she was free to move around the room, building up the muscles in her leg again. Ken did a workout with her, push-ups and sit-ups and rubbing her calf muscle for her. Each time she went to sleep, he was there, holding her close and singing softly to her. If anyone else entered the room, he would stop abruptly as if embarrassed, but when they were alone and she asked, he would sing. It made her feel as if there was a connection-an intimacy-between the two of them.

She woke at night, staring up at the ceiling and savoring the feeling of his body so close to hers. She knew he was awake, unable to sleep. She wished she could find a way to take away his nightmares the way he did for her. She could tell by his ragged breathing and the intense heat of his body that the memories were too close. He was sitting beside her. the sheet-and little else-separating them. She was always acutely aware of him as a man. "Bad tonight?"

He turned his head to look down at her, and she caught a glimpse of hell in his eyes before he smiled at her, covering his thoughts, his fingers coming up to tangle in the gold and silver silk of her hair. "Not too bad." He tugged at her hair, rubbing the strands between his thumb and finger as if savoring the feel of it. "I love to watch you sleep."

It should have bothered her, being so vulnerable as to sleep with a man watching her, but somehow, he made her feel safe. She wanted that for him. He was the silent sentry, standing guard over her, his nightmares close and vivid, while he made certain she was able to sleep like a baby. It hardly seemed fair. "I wish you could sleep too. We need to find something to help you with that." There was an unconscious invitation in her voice.

Ken sat beside her, feeling the warmth of her body, the rush of electricity sparking along his skin. He had every good intention, had given himself a million lectures, but being with her night and day, watching the shadows chasing across her face, knowing what her life had been-what it would be again if Whitney had his way-made him feel less of a monster than he was. And that was dangerous.

"Ken." There was an ache of longing in her voice. She reached up and touched his lips, tracing the outline with a light caress.

He shook his head. "You're tempting the devil, Mari."

"I don't think of you as a devil."

Ken framed her face with his hands, his fingers exploring, tracing the fine bone structure of her face and sliding down her chin to her neck. "You're so delicate. How can you have so much strength packed into such a delicate little body?"

"No one's ever called me that before." She turned her face into his palm and rubbed like a cat. "You just have big hands."

Ken found the way her face moved over his hand far too sensual for his liking. Her tongue darted out to taste his skin, a soft, heart-stopping curl along his thumb, sending erotic images into his head before he could censor. He needed Mari to feel safe with him, but she was naturally sexy, responding to their potent chemistry with little inhibition due to the drugs in her system. Her soft breasts pushed against his chest, sending an electric current through his body. "Maybe you should go back to sleep."

"Why?"

"It's just safer for you."

"You mean safer for you," she said, mocking him. "You're such a baby."' She nuzzled his hand again, her tongue and teeth this time sliding up his wrist. Her lips were featherlight against his scars, tiny kisses designed to drive him crazy.

Ken cleared his throat, his heart racing. "I have no idea what kind of drugs Lily is giving you, but I'm sure it's a potent combination."

"It's the drugs? I want you because Lily gave me drugs?" Her mouth engulfed his thumb and sucked hard, tongue fluttering suggestively. All the while her chocolate eyes remained locked with his.

His heart nearly stopped. His body reacted, blood pounding, filling his groin to bursting, centering awareness in one pulsing, throbbing ache. "Sweetheart, you just can't do things like that. You're playing with fire."

Teeth scraped and teased the pad of his thumb. His cock jerked in response, anticipating the pleasure of teeth scraping along his scars, tongue and mouth tight and hot and oh so moist.

He slid his hand beneath her shirt, sliding over her bare stomach and up along her ribs to cover her breast. He took his time, giving her plenty of time to pull back, to stop him. She arced into him. pushing her nipple into his palm. It was already tight and erect, begging for attention.

"Tell me what your home is like. I've never been in a home."

Ken laid his head on the pillow beside hers, fingers stroking gently. "Jack and I built a home in Montana. We have quite a few acres and the national forest surrounds our property on three sides, so we're fairly isolated. We're entirely self-sufficient. Jack made most of the furniture. We have a gold mine-never worked it, but there's a vein there for certain."

"Is it beautiful?"

He edged her shirt up. bunching the material little by little to reveal the smooth skin from her tummy and her tucked-in waist to her narrow rib cage, until he'd exposed the underside of her breasts. "I never thought a lot about it, but yes, the country is beautiful and the house is wide open with plenty of space for two families. The view from nearly every room is amazing." His knuckles rubbed back and forth under her breast, savoring the soft, satiny skin. No one had her amazing skin.

Mari relaxed more, her body soft and pliant from the mesmerizing movement of his hand. The heat of his body warmed hers. "Do you have a fireplace? I always thought pictures of fireplaces were romantic and homey at the same time."

"We have a fireplace in the great room, a common room shared by Jack and me. We both have our own wing of the house. He has two bedrooms and a couple of bathrooms and an office. We both have fireplaces in the bedroom. The house is large and very spread out, and we heat mainly with wood. It snows there, so it can get very cold at night."

Her skin fascinated him. It was softer than anything he'd ever felt before. He had to admit, when it came down to sex, he liked rough and fast and plenty of it, but there was something magical in lying beside her simply savoring the feel of her skin. He enjoyed his rising temperature, the pounding of blood through his swollen cock. He felt alive and he felt-happy. He almost didn't recognize the emotion.

"I grew up in the barracks. I have my own room now, but there's nothing in it. Just the bunk and my locker. We aren't really allowed personal items. There's a television in the game room, but we're watched all the time, and everything we do is recorded. Mostly we train and work on education and strengthening our psychic talents to make us better soldiers. Well, at least we did, until Whitney came up with his latest brilliant program."

"What do you do when you have time off?"

"In the evenings? I like to read and listen to music. I love music."

"What about vacation time? Did you travel?"

"We didn't have vacation time. And the only traveling we're allowed is when we're on a mission." Mari pressed against his hand. The sensations drifted through her like lazy smoke, until sexual awareness smoldered throughout her entire body. His fingers took the aches and pains and turned them into something altogether different. "Of course now, since he started his breeding program, all the women are virtually prisoners."

"You grew up with these women? You were all raised in the barracks by Whitney since you were infants?"

"Yes. They're my family. I consider them sisters. Cami's tough, she'll get out no problem, and the others will follow our lead, but I have one sister who suspects she is already pregnant. We have to get her out of there before he runs his weekly tests on us and actually gets the results. She's terrified Whitney will find out."

"We'll get her out." Ken didn't ask which one of the women was pregnant. Mari was already regretting telling him that much information; he could see it on her face and he didn't blame her. He slid his body down, just a little bit, just enough that she could rest her chin on the top of his head and his face was opposite her beautiful breasts. Her breath hitched.

Moonbeams from the skylight overhead spilled across her body, illuminating her skin, turning it to cream. He pushed her shirt up further, slowly exposing her breasts to the cool night air-and his hot gaze. His own breath left his lungs in a heated rush. This woman brought him something no one else had ever done. It wasn't the combination of lust and need, or even his body springing back to hard, vivid life; it was simple happiness. He felt different when he was with her. Lighter. The memories of the scent and sight of blood, of dark sweat, the sound of his own screams, the rage that never left him, that consumed him until he thought his world was only one of complete darkness, devoid of anything good-she forced it all to retreat, just by her presence. Whitney-the son of a bitch-couldn't have made that happen with his meddling-it was all too real.

Mari brought up her hands, brushing her fingers through his thick wavy hair. Her body nearly vibrated with the need to feel his hands-and mouth-on her. Her body felt as if it was melting, so soft and pliant he could shape her into anything. Her breasts tingled when the cool air hit her nipples like the flick of a tongue, teasing them into twin, upright peaks.

Her fingers fisted in his hair when he shifted again, and she felt the dark five o'clock shadow rasp across her nipples, sending little jagged streaks of lightning through her bloodstream. "Ken."

She said his name in a breathy little voice that threatened to shatter his rigid control. Ken thought he had his desire well in hand, but he hadn't counted on the way her body responded to his. Her bare breasts were laid out in front of him like a feast, and he drank in the sight of her lush flesh, swollen and flushed with desire, rising and falling with every breath, luring him closer to the tight, pink buds that stood up to beckon him. She wanted him-no, needed him-and that was the biggest aphrodisiac of all.

She didn't seem to see the scars on his face or body. She touched him, skimmed her mouth down his scarred flesh, as if he was whole. She seemed as ravenous for him as he was for her.

"You're incredibly beautiful, Mari," he whispered. "This isn't Whitney's pheromones talking. This is me, wanting you so bad I'm almost afraid to touch you."

"Almost" wasn't true-he was afraid. If he knew what paradise felt like, could he go back to the barren world of the desert? He stroked his hand between her breasts, back down her body to her flat belly. Firm muscles played beneath soft skin. He rested his hand over her stomach possessively, fingers splayed wide to take in every inch of her that he could. Beneath his palm, the muscles of her stomach clenched.

She didn't know home or family. He'd had foster homes and Jack. Hell, they'd been kicked out of a dozen places, run away from more, and yet he was fairly certain he'd had it better than Mari. Briony had been taken from her when they were been small children, and she'd been raised in a brutal, disciplined world. His world had been brutal and disciplined, but he'd had Jack. He'd always had his brother.

He moved the pads of his fingers over her skin, tracing her sexy little belly button. No piercings for Mari. No jewels or fancy clothes. She didn't have evening gowns or expensive perfume. She had soldier-issue boots and routine camouflage clothing.

With every stroke of his finger, he felt the ripple of response in her stomach, her muscles clenching beneath the small caresses. He could barely breathe with the intensity of his desire. The roar in his ears grew louder. He shuddered with the effort to keep his mind away from the thought of her naked under him. He might need it, and he sure as hell could make her need it as well, hut hot sex wasn't what was best for her, not right at that moment.

There was a part of him that detested the way lust intruded, so sharp and terrible that he could taste her on his tongue. He was beginning to crave her like a drug he was addicted to. He wanted to comfort and soothe her. to talk about things that mattered to her, but his cock throbbed and burned for her, stretched to the bursting point, an urgent reminder that he was alive and was more than an infinitely normal man.

Maybe it was the need to show her that beneath the mask he wasn't all monster-that for her he could push aside his baser animalistic instincts and be a better man. She had nearly died. Technically, although he didn't think of her as a prisoner, she was one, and that made her vulnerable. He wanted to think about that-had to think about it. in order to keep from climbing on top of her and fucking the brains out of both of them. Once he started, he wasn't altogether certain he'd ever stop.

"Ken?" Mari's fingers moved in his hair, massaging his scalp and sending a shudder of awareness down his spine.

"Why is it that whenever a man is doing his best to be noble, his body goes into overdrive and he can't think with his brains?"

"Has it occurred to you that I might not want you to be noble? I almost died. I have to go back to an existence I don't even want to think about. This might be my one chance-my only chance-to be with a man I choose."

"Here? In this lock-down laboratory that is a constant reminder of everything you've never had? In this narrow, hard bed? I want you someplace where I can spend hours-days-exploring every inch of your body. Somewhere beautiful with the fire roaring in the fireplace and waterfalls out the window."

Her breath hitched again, the smallest of reactions, but he caught it. She didn't believe she would ever have those things, and in that moment, he resolved to make certain she did-that she would have everything he could give her.

Mari shifted again, her breasts brushing his shadowed jaw. Ken's body nearly went rigid, every muscle tight and hot. contracting into hard knots. His breath fanned the temptation of her nipples. He needed her more than he needed the air in his lungs, but once he touched her, once he claimed her, there would be no walking away.

"Mari…" he tried again, his face, of its own accord, moving that scant inch so that his tongue could dip lower and take one delicious lick along her nipple.

Mari jumped beneath him, her hips moving restlessly, her breasts rising sharply with her indrawn breath, arching into him, into the dark, hot cavern of his mouth. His hand cupped her breast, kneading, as he suckled, using his teeth to sharpen her desire, his tongue to tease and draw out her pleasure.

She made a single sound, a gasp of shock, her hips bucking, her hot mound sliding over his thigh in an effort to get some relief. At once, he dipped his fingers lower, to find a furnace of heat. His teeth closed on her nipple with a small bite of pain, as his fingers found her slick entrance, testing her response to his need for a little rougher play. A fresh wave of her heady scent rose and his fingers were damp with her welcome.

Mari's moan was so soft he barely heard it-but he felt it vibrate through his entire body. His cock jerked, rubbing against the material of his jeans, swelling to a breaking point. He had to have some relief before he shattered. He switched to her other breast, suckling strongly as his hand slid to his jeans, working them open, sliding them over his hips so his enormous erection could spring free. He couldn't stop himself-his hand sliding over the thick, hard pole, feeling the ridges, squeezing tightly in an effort to create sensation. Hell, he didn't even know if his equipment really worked anymore.

Teeth teasing the nipple, keeping her pleasure sharp and edgy, he dragged his jeans from his hips. He shifted back, lifting his head from her soft, perfect breasts, to look at her. Mari lay on the cot, her eyes glazed with desire, lips parted, with her breath rising and falling rapidly. Her breasts thrust up from the open shirt, her legs bare and sprawled apart, her body open to him. She was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. Her gaze dropped to his fist curled around his thick erection. There was a drop glistening like a pearl on the large, swollen head. Her gaze locked with his. Mari leaned forward and licked it off.

His entire body locked up, a firestorm raging hot and wild, a fever building so fast, so intense, he shuddered, his heart thudding loudly in his ears. Sweat broke out, beading on his brow. She was killing him. Killing him.

He caught her face in his hands and forced her dark eyes to meet his smoldering gaze. "Mari, honey, you have to be sure." His voice was hoarse. "I'm not going to be able to stop in another minute. I don't have a damn thing to use as protection and this is bullshit, taking you here. I'm not going to be gentle and loving like you deserve. And I don't want to hurt you. I'm so damned afraid of hurting you, but I swear I'll give you more pleasure than you've ever had in your life. If you can't do this with me, go all the way, take everything I need to give you, you've got to tell me to stop now and I swear to you. I'll find the strength to leave you alone."

"Ken, please." she whispered, her dark eyes pleading. "I want you so much I can't think straight. This is our moment. We have to take it or it may never come again. Give me this, give me a memory, something real, to last me forever."

He took her lips. He tried for gentle, but the moment he slid his tongue into the velvet darkness of her mouth, he was lost in a haze of madness. Lust rose, so sharp and terrible it consumed him, ate him alive. He took her mouth, giving in to the demons riding him so hard.

Hard hands held her still. Mari was shocked at his enormous strength, at her own sudden arousal at his aggression, so hot and fast and hard, shaking her body before she was ready, almost pushing her into an orgasm before he'd really touched her. His ragged breath was harsh as he bit at her lip, his teeth and tongue doing wild things to her mouth until she couldn't see, let alone think.

His lips moved down her neck, tiny stinging kisses that left fire dancing over her nerve endings. His thumb and finger caught her nipple, rolling and tugging until her head thrashed back and forth over the pillow and she sobbed out his name. She hadn't known she could feel this way. hadn't known that a small burst of pain could bring heat flaring and his tongue could feel like velvet over smarting hypersensitive skin.

He kissed his way down to her breasts, stopping there to feast, wanting her in a frenzy of desire, needing her compliance, afraid that if she fought him, he'd go wild. His hand moved lower, savoring the shape and texture of her. cupping her hot, damp mound, feeling satisfaction as her hips bucked and another soft sob escaped. He slid a finger into the deep recesses, searching for honey and spice and a way to make her his for eternity.

"Spread you legs for me, Mari." His voice was harsh, hands rough on her thighs, forcing her obedience before she could give it to him, positioning her so he could kiss his way down her belly button, pausing to nibble the underside of her breasts, trace each rib, and lavish attention on her abdomen with hot licks as if she were an ice cream cone.

"Ken." Desperate, she fisted his hair, trying to drag him over her, to blanket her.

He caught her wrists and jerked them down. "Behave," he ordered. "We do this my way. I warned you, it has to be my way." Because watching her lose control, watching the lust build into mindless need, fed his violent instincts and increased his pleasure. The more she came apart for him, the better it was for him.

"I can't take it. You're too slow."

"Stay still," he repeated, his voice roughening. His tongue followed his finger in a long slow sweep searching for the nectar he was craving.

She nearly came off the cot, her sobs real, her hips thrashing wildly. He smacked the side of her bottom in warning and watched the answering flare of arousal in her eyes. Ken clamped one arm down tight across her hips, pinning her down. His need raged white-hot now, coursing through his body with the force of a tidal wave, a storm of fire so out of control it was crowning. He didn't just need her body, he wanted her soul, he wanted her so tied to him she would do anything he asked, anything he demanded of her.

Man raised her head to look at him, the dark sensuality on his face, the intensity of his desire that shuddered through his body. His eyes were pure silver, twin slashes of light that focused solely on her. His hands were hard and terribly strong. His scars traveled down his belly right over his enormous cock. The knife cuts had been made with surgical precision, each slice designed to cause the maximum amount of pain without killing him. His balls were cut, as were his belly and hips and down across his thighs, until the scars disappeared into the legs of his jeans.

She would have thought no one could recover from such an ordeal, but he was hard and thick and long enough to be intimidating-and she wanted to touch and taste and soothe, make it all better for him. Mostly she wanted to drive him past all sanity, the way he was driving her. She licked her lips to moisten them, parting them as she stared at the long, daunting length of him. She was coming apart, her body coiling tighter and tighter until she was afraid she would be screaming, throwing herself at him. begging for release.

He whispered something guttural and faintly obscene, his voice so rough she found it sexy. His silver eyes branded his name into her flesh and bone as he clamped down on her thighs and lowered his head, his mouth on her most intimate lips, his tongue thrusting deep into her. Everything around her seemed to explode. She shattered, utterly and completely shattered, breaking into a million pieces, her mind fragmenting until there was no conscious thought, only wave after wave of sensation, tidal waves swamping her, carrying her far out to sea, where she had no anchor and no way back.

She fought to get away, using her strength, terrified of losing herself for all time, afraid if he didn't stop she might die from the crashing pleasure. Her vision narrowed, and she saw dark streaks covered in blue-hot stars as her breasts tightened and her womb spasmed and every muscle in her body clenched and coiled, winding tighter and tighter. He held her still, as no one else could have, his enhanced strength impossible to fight while he drove his tongue relentlessly into her feminine channel, spearing deep, over and over. She couldn't stand it. He had to stop. He had to.

The tongue went from stabbing to fluttering; teeth found her most sensitive spot and began a slow, torturous assault. His finger added to the insanity, pushing deep and pulling out to spread hot liquid over her most intimate parts. His mouth went to her sensitive bud, tongue flicking back and forth ruthlessly, throwing her into a wild, never-ending orgasm. The more sensitive she grew, the more he persisted, holding her down while he sucked at her, before once more taking her bud between his teeth and stroking with his tongue. She lost her ability to breathe, thrashing back and forth wildly in an effort to get away from his mouth.

Her breath came out in ragged sobs. "I can't take any more. No more." The sensations were building continually. She'd lost count of how many times she'd come apart, each orgasm stronger than the last, until she felt it through her stomach and up into her breasts, until every part of her was stimulated beyond her imagination.

"Yes, more. You'll come for me, Mari, over and over." His voice was guttural as he sucked ravenously at her, throwing her into another climax.

It was too much; she had never had anyone give her so much, demand so much, take so much. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, desperate to hold on when the world was gone. Their combined scents were potent and heady, so sexy she couldn't think. His hands were everywhere, making her body his, taking possession of each separate part of her.

When she stiffened in protest-afraid-his mouth devoured her, eating her like the candy he'd called her earlier, devouring everything until she was certain there was nothing left of Mari. He lifted his head to look at her, his face pure carnal sensuality.

"You belong to me," he whispered roughly. Body and soul. Whatever he wanted or needed, she was going to be the one to supply it. The dark violence in him could be harnessed and used for much more pleasurable purposes, the demons caged by one woman-Mari. She made his cock ache and his balls burn and his control slip away, until all he could think about was having her. He was a man who could ride a woman all night and never feel completely sated, yet just looking at her sprawled out beneath him at the mercy of his body, hearing her pleas and sobs for him to take her, he knew everything was different with her. His life would always be different.

She clutched him tightly, her body writhing beneath his tongue and teeth, her breath coming in sobs as she pleaded with him to possess her. Her breathless cries added to the intensity of his pleasure. The nails biting deep into his skin, the scratches on his back he knew she didn't realize she was putting there, all added to the building fire.

Retaining his hold on her hips, Ken slid off the bed, pulling her bottom to the edge to lift her legs over his shoulders. Fingers digging into her bottom, he pressed against her damp heat. Although she was slick and wet, and hungry for him, it seemed an impossible task to stretch her tight channel enough to accommodate his size.

And then he moved, ramming into her hard and deep, driving through her tight muscles to bury himself balls deep. A soft scream escaped from her throat, hastily muffled by the back of her hand. She stared up at him. eyes wide with shock and glazed over with feverish desire. The hard ridges on his cock rasped over her velvet-soft inner muscles, adding to the pleasure-pain of his deep penetration. He needed this, needed her and her acceptance of his control of her. She didn't wince away from his appearance, and every hard, rough stroke took her pleasure higher. He made absolutely certain of that.

He controlled the rhythm, hard and fast, and then slow and deep, dragging her hips into him to double the impact, or holding her still so she could only accept his deep invasion. She was tight, tighter than he expected, and fiery hot. engulfing him in a velvet inferno. He rode her hard, pounding roughly to stimulate his cock-the glorious erotic bite of pleasure and pain as he stretched and thickened, as he forced her to take every inch of him. stretching her impossibly.

She went wild beneath him, ripping at his arms with her nails, slashing his chest, long, deep scratches as he drove her higher and higher, compelling her into a level of sexuality she'd never imagined. He held her thighs apart, yanking her legs higher, wider, refusing to give an inch, refusing to allow her to catch her breath. The pleasure was mushrooming out of control, turning into a whirling tornado spinning through both of them, taking them away from all reality.

He caught her hands, slammed both to the cot on either side of her head, ramming into her body in a frenzy of raging need, driving his cock so deep he thought he might lock them together forever. The lines in his face were etched deeper, his scars standing out starkly against his skin as her muscles gripped tighter and tighter, adding more and more friction and heat. Sweat beaded on his body, darkened his hair, but he kept thrusting, over and over, while his balls grew hard and his cock screamed for mercy.

He felt the explosion tear through her body, a dark tidal wave that rose and rose, refusing to be stopped. She sobbed, as he drove into her, the hot wash of her cream sending him over the edge, his own ejaculation ripping through him so forcefully his body shook. He was elated, ecstatic, more alive than he'd ever been. Maybe it was because he thought he'd lost his ability since the torture in the Congo, but he suspected the pleasure was so intense because he finally was with the right woman. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he collapsed over her.

"Son of a bitch, Mari, you nearly killed me."

Her arm slid around his neck, her fingers tunneling in his thick hair. "I can't think. And I'll never walk again."

She touched her tongue to her lips. Her breasts ached, her thighs; she throbbed between her legs. There was a burning sensation as if he'd stretched her and left her with skid marks. "I think I have road rash." Her heart was never going to beat normally, and no one-no one-was ever going to satisfy her again.

Ken lifted his head to look at her. Her bone structure was so delicate, yet there was steel in her. She'd been afraid, but she'd put herself in his hands. Her fingertips skimmed over his face, over the scars, traced them down his neck to his chest. She leaned forward to press kisses where his skin was exposed. His heart turned over. She'd seen the monster and it hadn't frightened her. He couldn't help the possessive feeling rising to choke him. She wasn't going back and he wasn't doing the right thing. He could no more give her up now than he could shoot his brother.

"I'll clean us both up in a minute, honey. Just give me a minute." He had never felt like that, such an explosive orgasm, so complete and so unexpected when his body was so damaged. He knew the pressure it took against his skin to feel sensation, and her tight channel had given him more than he'd ever thought possible. It shook him that he could need this woman so much.

It wasn't that he was totaled-on the contrary, he wanted to take a few minutes' rest and start over again, a marathon this time-but she looked exhausted and a little freaked out that she'd given him so much of herself. He'd taken her cooperation, giving her little choice in the matter, but she had only fought him when the pleasure was skidding into pain and it had frightened her.

He hadn't wanted to lie to her, to be something he wasn't-something he couldn't be. His body was ruined for anything but a certain kind of stimulation and she had to accept that. Hell. It had taken him months to get around the idea that he couldn't perform, and then a few more weeks to acknowledge what might get him off.

"Did I hurt you?" His hands framed her face, thumbs sliding over her smooth, soft skin. She was so beautiful he ached.

"I don't know." She leaned forward and dragged her lips, feather-light, over his. "It was wild and amazing and somewhat frightening. I didn't know sex could feel like that." Her gaze slid away from his. "I'm not a virgin or anything, but I've never had an orgasm." She touched a long scratch on his chest. "I was scared, but I wanted it so much. I didn't want you to ever stop, not even when I said stop."

He tipped her chin up. "Did you say stop? Because if you did, I didn't hear you."

"Not out loud. No one's ever done that before."

He frowned. "Done what?"

Color crept under her skin, flushing her face and her breasts, drawing his attention to the marks on the creamy flesh. His marks. His fingerprints. The faint teeth marks and numerous strawberries standing out starkly against her pale skin. She had them on the inside of her thighs as well. He touched one-pleased.

Her color deepened, turning an interesting shade of crimson. "Oral sex."

His eyebrow shot up. She looked innocent and almost shy. so much so that he couldn't help but bend down to kiss her. "Oral sex? Is that what you thought that was?" He rubbed the scar splitting his lip with the pad of his thumb. "I don't think so, honey. That was more like gobbling you up. Eating you alive. And just talking about it is making me hard all over again."

The color spread through her body. "Well, regardless, no one's ever done that."

The smile on his face faded. "Never?"

She shook her head.

He scowled at her. "What the hell did this idiot Brett do to prepare you?"

"He didn't care if my body accepted his or not. He used a lubricant for his own convenience, not mine."

Ken swore out loud. "Someone needs to tear his heart out."

A small smile curved her mouth. "Jack likes to shoot people. Maybe we just ought to introduce them."

Ken slid off the bed, pulling up his jeans before finding a cloth. Dipping it in water, he carefully washed her body, deliberately stroking caresses between her legs. "What other things have you managed to miss?"

"Why? I shouldn't have told you that."

"If I don't know what you've missed, I won't know all the things I get to introduce you to." He dried her body with careful strokes.

"I've never celebrated a birthday or holiday."

"When do you get presents?"

She laughed. "What kind of presents? Sean gave me a knife once, but he took it back when I was put in the breeding program. I think they were afraid I'd remove certain portions of Brett's anatomy."

It bothered him. Okay-it bothered him a lot-that she didn't have holidays and fireplaces and presents. At the worst home he'd been in, they still celebrated birthdays. "When is your birthday?"

Once again her gaze slid from his, and she shrugged with exaggerated casualness. "I have no idea. Whitney found me in an orphanage somewhere and he didn't exactly think that date was important, so why would you think he'd celebrate our birthdays?"

Ken's belly knotted up again, but he kept his voice and face expressionless. He cupped her face and leaned in for another heart-stopping kiss. The woman tasted like honey and exotic spice, so addicting he thought about just kissing her until neither of them knew their own names anymore. "He's a scientist. Isn't the age of his guinea pigs important? Let's break into his files and get the information. I'll bet he has it."

She laughed. Really laughed. The sound was very soft, but it made him want to smile. He pulled a chain from around his neck. Made of braided gold, it held a small golden cross. He slipped it over her head, lifting her hair out of the way so that the chain slid along the back of her neck and the medal nestled between her breasts.

"Your first present, one of many. I'm not very religious, but I always like to keep my options open. It will keep you safe when I'm not right beside you."

She inhaled sharply and blinked hard several times.

Ken touched her long lashes and found them wet. She suddenly looked sad. shadows replacing the laughter in her eyes. "Presents are supposed to make you happy. I don't think you're getting the concept here."

Mari slid her arms around his neck. "Surprisingly, this has been the best day of my life. Thank you." She lifted her mouth for his kiss, her fingers gliding over his neck. She struck hard and fast, finding the pressure point with little problem and, using her enhanced strength, digging deep. She could never have done it if she hadn't caught him completely by surprise, but he succumbed, slipping into a black void, slumping to the bed and then sliding to the floor.