Deadly Game

Chapter 16

Long after the sensation of energy flowing through their merged minds faded, Mari lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Tears leaked out of her eyes, but she couldn't make the effort to wipe them away. She heard someone outside her door removing Brett's body, but no one spoke to her. It was just as well. She didn't think she had the ability to answer.

Once, she felt a flutter in her mind and recognized Cami's touch, but she didn't have the strength to answer, even though she knew she must be causing the other women distress. They would have felt her fears. And they certainly would have felt the swell of psychic energy-anyone psychic would have felt that. There was no way to contain that kind of power.

Her mind felt drained, her body as heavy as lead. She couldn't imagine what Ken felt like, but it had to be worse. Her head pounded with one of the worst, most disorienting headaches she'd ever experienced, and using telepathy and other psychic talents often caused them. Her heart beat too hard and fast and she was dizzy and sick.

She visualized Ken lying on the floor somewhere in the large complex, surrounded by enemies, vulnerable to attack, and sweat beaded on her body. She could barely breathe with needing to know he was alive, well and safe. She couldn't touch his mind, and she was certain that if he could have touched hers to reassure her. he would have. She could only lie there, terrified for him. imagining the worst with no way to help him.

No one could expend that amount of energy and not have tremendous physical repercussions. He had given everything he was to save her. She heard herself sob. Her chest heaved. It shocked her that she would be lying on her cot sobbing. Not tiny tears, but weeping out loud for everyone to hear. She never did that. Never. She was a soldier, trained in survival. You never, never, gave the enemy ammunition against you, and you certainly never gave them the satisfaction of messing with your emotions.

All of her training seemed to be gone in that instant, leaving her with no control. She needed to know he was safe. How in the world could their connection have grown so strong that it was no longer just about sex? She thought she could have moments in her life that would make the rest of it all bearable, but being with Ken Norton had changed everything. She was changed. He had shown her life could be different, that there could be hope for her. she could have dreams.

For a good two hours she lay in the dark, wondering if he was alive. For the first time in her life, she prayed. Whitney had taught them to believe only in science and that people who believed in a higher power were people who needed a crutch. There was no such thing as God. or a savior, or even a way of life that was about anything other than discipline and duty. She'd been indoctrinated since she was a baby into the belief that those who had mercy and compassion were soft-sheep, people waiting for someone with the intelligence and power to guide them.

For most of her life, she'd thought herself a failure because she didn't strictly adhere to Whitney's teachings. She loved her sisters, and most of what she did was out of a desire to protect them and stay with them-not her tremendous sense of duty. She'd never believed in anything but her sisters, but now. just in case, she prayed. And then, as if someone really had listened to her plea-there was no sound, nothing to warn her-she nearly jumped out of her skin when the door slid open and a man slipped through.

"Ken?" She croaked his name, still unable to lift her pounding head from the pillow. It was him, his shoulders wide, his arms like steel sliding around her, gathering her close. She turned her tear-wet face against his chest. He collapsed on the bed, and she realized he was trembling with weakness. "How did you manage to get here? I can't even move."

"You don't have to move; I'm just going to join you. My head feels like it's about to explode." He stretched out onto the bed beside her, hands running over her body to assure himself she was in one piece. "Your courage terrifies me." In truth she humbled him. To endure the things she'd endured her entire life, to stand there and face Sean and what he meant to do to her, to give herself up so fully to Ken, a man she knew to be every bit as dangerous-maybe more-it was almost more than he could comprehend.

He suddenly stiffened. "Oh, God, baby, you're crying. You going to break my heart. He's gone now. You're safe. You're safe with me."

He wrapped his body protectively around hers, feeling her tremors, the tear-wet face against his chest. His fingers tunneled in her thick hair as he dragged her as close as he could get her, trying to shield her from any further harm. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I tried to get here as fast as possible. They put you through hell and I wasn't here."

He couldn't breathe with her crying. His chest felt tight, his throat raw, and panic rose. "Stop now." His hands stroked caresses in her hair. He rained kisses over her face and licked at the tears in an effort to stop them. "I tried. I swear I tried."

"You were here, Ken, you were; you saved me when I didn't think it was possible." Now that he was with her, alive and well, she should have been able to stop crying, but somehow, the floodgates opened and she was worse, alternating between hiccupping and sobbing, clinging to him like a child. Mari knew she would be ashamed in the morning, but the cover of darkness gave her the courage to be honest. "I was so afraid for you."

"Afraid for me?" Ken brushed more kisses over the top of her head and down her face. His teeth scraped her chin, and then he was kissing the corners of her mouth. "I was safe. You were the one in danger. I thought I might go out of my mind." His thumbs brushed at her tears.

Mari tried hard to regain control. He wasn't joking; he was very shaken up by her tears. She took several deep breaths to calm down. "Will Sean realize you used mind control on him? Because if he does, Whitney will know I couldn't possibly have done it and he could go berserk and kill all of us."

"No, he won't have any idea. You knew because I stopped before I gave you the command to forget what had happened to you. I can implant memories."

"Did you with Sean?"

"To protect you, yes. He believes the two of you had sex. He believes you cooperated with him. I didn't want him coming back in the morning."

"How could you make him believe that?"

"It was easy enough. His desires were very powerful, and the pictures of you naked in his mind were vivid. It wasn't difficult to manipulate them once I was wired to him. I didn't want to, Mari, but I felt I had no choice. It was the only way I could think of. besides killing him, to protect you. And if I killed him, Whitney would discover we'd broken into his stronghold. I did set Sean up and if we're lucky, he'll be taken care of when he makes a try at Whitney."

"Are you apologizing to me?" She tilted her head enough to look up at him. shocked that he would be upset when what he'd done had cost him so dearly.

"I'm sorry, baby. He's a powerful enemy, and I should have found a better way to remove him permanently, but we only had a few seconds to make a decision and that was ail that came to mind if we wanted your family safe." And he had agonized and cursed over that decision every moment since. He wanted Sean dead. He needed Sean dead, but he had to live with the fact that he'd left the bastard alive and Mari wasn't safe.

"I have no idea what I would have done if you hadn't helped me." she said. Her nervous fingers stroked his hair, an unconscious caress. She buried her face against the warmth of his neck. "Whitney said the senator is coming here, that he specifically asked to talk to me. I don't have any idea how he would know to ask for me, but Whitney was really angry. I'm certain that's why he had Sean come to me tonight."

It took effort not to keep the hot surge of fury from spilling over where she might feel it. He brushed a kiss against the soft strands of hair at the top of her head. He'd never been so choked up in his life. It was terrifying how this woman made him feel so much. He had been careful all of his life never to get emotionally involved, and yet she'd wrapped him up so tight he could barely breathe-and he had no idea how it happened, or even when.

"Senator Freeman is coming here?"

"That's what Whitney said. I don't think it's a good idea. Whitney seems really angry with him. Freeman isn't enhanced in any way."

"But his wife is."

"Yes. Whitney and the senator's father, Andrew Freeman, go way back. Andrew Freeman is in shipping. Violet told us she was being groomed to a be a senator's wife-that Whitney wanted Senator Freeman to run for vice president and that they would have a man in office they could control."

"So Violet is one of Whitney's GhostWalkers. He has a small army of them."

"No!" Mari pulled back her head to look at him. "Violet would never betray us, no matter what Whitney offered. I think she genuinely loves her husband, but she still wouldn't sell us out. Whitney has access to a team of genuine GhostWalkers. Violet was part of that group and so was I. Whitney has another unit comprised of supersoldiers. They're not quite the same. They're enhanced, but their psychic abilities aren't as strong and most of them are very violent. I know Violet isn't a part of that; she wouldn't betray us."

"Sean did."

There was a silence and he cursed himself for hurting her. His arms tightened even more, as if by crushing her to him and nuzzling the top of her head he could somehow make up for his blunder.

"Yes, he did," Mari said. "He blamed it on me."

"That's bullshit and you know it. He made his choices; we all do. He can take his own responsibility. If I screw up with you, Mari, it's on me."

She reached up to trace his lips with the pad of her finger, hearing the ache in his voice. "Why do you persist in thinking you're some kind of monster?"

"I don't want you getting the wrong idea about me." His voice sounded raw even to his own ears.

She smiled in the darkness. "I've been in your mind. I know you're bossy and you like everything your own way. You think you're jealous…"

"I am jealous. The thought of another man touching you makes me crazy." He squeezed his eyes shut. "My father was so jealous, Mari. he couldn't stand my mother talking and laughing with her own sons. He beat her every time a man glanced her way, which was often. She was a beautiful woman. I feel very possessive of you already. The idea of some man holding you in his arms, kissing you, sharing your body, just the thought alone, makes me feel violent. I don't honestly know what I'd do."

Ashamed, he wrapped his arm around her head, pressing her face into his chest so she couldn't look at him. He couldn't look her in the eye. "I could feel your emotions when Sean was fighting Brett. It sickened you to be the cause of that. I could do much worse, Mari, I know I'm capable. I was hoping I could hold you at arm's length and I wouldn't feel so strongly, but it happened and I can't stop it."

"You're not your father. Ken. You've led a completely different life. You've been shaped by your own experiences."

He gave a small, humorless laugh. "Exactly. Mari. Wonderful experiences. Witnessing my father kill my mother. Trying to do the old man in myself-hell, I wasn't even in my teens. I plotted a thousand ways to murder him. I beat the hell out of two of my foster dads and I have no idea how many boys and men growing up. I chose special ops, Mari, I chose to be enhanced both physically and psychically; after all, it would make me a much more efficient killer. Those are the things that shaped my life." He kept his tone absolutely emotionless, separating himself from the reality of his childhood the way he always did-the way he had to in order to survive.

Tears burned all over again. Hadn't she cried enough this night? This time the tears weren't for her, but for him, that little boy. the teenager abandoned by adults. Her life might have been stark and cold, but she hadn't known any different. She had nothing to compare it to. In some ways it had been fun even, all the physical and psychic training. She'd felt special and eventually respected. But Ken had known love. His mother had loved him; Mari could feel the echo of that long-ago love in his mind.

He hurt so bad inside and he didn't even know it. He wasn't aware of it, only of the fire of rage or the ice cold of his lack of emotions. It was all or nothing with Ken. Fury or ice. "Ken…"

"Don't!" he said sharply, because if she cried for him, it would be the end. No one had ever cried for him. His mother had been dead, and the rest of the world looked at Ken and Jack as if they were already the monsters their father created. Even back then, people had been right to be afraid.

His thumbs brushed at her tears. "You'll tear out what's left of my heart, Mari. Just stop. I can't change what I am. I might want to, baby, but I can't."

"If you really were the same kind of man your father was," she said gently, biting back the little sob that threatened to escape, "you would have killed Sean right there and then, while you had the chance, and to hell with my sisters. Your father wouldn't have put himself through the hell of knowing another man was touching me and denied himself the pleasure of killing that man. My feelings wouldn't have counted at all, but they do with you. You may have wanted to kill Sean-hell, I wanted to kill him-but you didn't." She squirmed out from under his arm and brushed kisses along the underside of his jaw.

He groaned softly. "Baby, you're deceiving yourself. I'm not a good man. I sure as hell want to be and wish I was whenever I'm anywhere close to you, but the truth is, I've done things in my life, and will do them again, that take me right out of that category. I wanted to kill that son of a bitch, and someday I will."

"Because he's a threat to me, Ken, not because he touched me."

"Don't kid yourself, Mari, it's both," he replied grimly. He knew the admission condemned all chance of happiness with her. She was not the kind of woman to walk behind a man. He was a man who would constantly need to protect her, to make the decisions, and there wasn't a damned thing he could do to change that. Unlike Briony, who accepted Jack's domination. Mari would chafe at the restraints. She had been too long on a leash, and exchanging one for another wasn't going to please her. Once she had a taste of real freedom, she would leave him and never look back.

The thought was crushing. It tore up his insides until he could barely think straight. He needed to focus on something else-anything else. Ken cleared his throat. "As soon as my brain heals a little bit, I can get word to Jack. Maybe he can warn the senator away if you really think Whitney might do him harm."

"Absolutely I think Whitney intends him harm." Mari said. "I think he put out the hit on him in the first place. When the command came down to protect the senator, I think it was a ploy to get us there and someone in our unit was going to assassinate him."

"Sean?"

"Maybe. Probably. He said something that bothered me, something about already being Whitney's prisoner. Sean's always been able to come and go. He had far less restrictions than a lot of us."

"He could have paid a high price for that. You have to consider the possibility that he sold his soul to the devil a long time ago."

There was another small silence. Mari chewed on her bottom lip while she turned that idea over and over in her mind. "If he did, and all this time he was reporting to Whitney, he would have told him I was going out with the team in order to try to talk to Senator Freeman and Violet."

"Which is why Whitney made certain Sean pumped you full of Zenith. It was Sean, wasn't it?"

"Whitney usually gives it to us before we go out on a mission. He was gone. Sean wanted to protect me."

"Whitney had him give a particularly strong does. That's why you healed so fast and then crashed so hard."

"Do you think Sean knew what he was giving me?"

Ken wanted to tell her Sean was just bastard enough to make certain no other man had her if she didn't return to him, but she'd been hurt enough. "I doubt it, honey. Whitney gave Zenith out routinely. It was more for his protection than anything else."

"Because dead men-or women-can't talk."

"Exactly."

"After you used mind control on me," Mari said, "I wondered why you didn't on Ekabela's men. It isn't easy and it takes a tremendous toll."

He nodded. "It isn't easy to clear your mind and keep it focused when someone is cutting you into little pieces."

"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 breasts. 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 cock 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 cock 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 naked body. His gold cross swayed with her breasts, teasing along her skin, caressing her as she moved over him. He could see his marks of possession on her skin from their earlier love-making 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 hips surged forward, forcing his cock 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 cock 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 hips 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 breasts seem to glow, creamy flesh with tight nipples 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 fucking 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."

"I am caught up," she protested, her voice breathy. Her body was already edgy with need. She didn't want to wait. She needed the feel of him filling her, crushing her, driving into her so high she would never come down.

Every squirm of her body sent shock waves washing over him. She was too tight, too small for his size, but that only served to increase his pleasure. He needed the feeling of a tight fist gripping and squeezing, raking at his scarred shaft with fiery heat, in order to get release. "You make me so damned hard, Mari." She did. One touch. One look. She was everything he could ever want in a woman. She wasn't afraid of his unusual needs-she met fire with fire. Even when he held her down, her body responded to his with a wild, almost desperate need.

His thigh muscles cramped with the effort to hold back. Every cell in his body screamed at him to take her fast and hard and as rough as possible, giving him maximum pleasure. His breath came in harsh, bursting gasps. He wanted this different. He wanted to be gentle. Gentle didn't work with his body, but she deserved so much more-a slow, tender lover, one coaxing her body into submission, not driving into her and taking by force what she was already willing to give.

He moved slow, testing his body, a long push through the hot. wet folds. The sensation was pleasant, but there was no real fire, no blaze of passion beyond his imagination. A groan escaped, a soft hiss of need he couldn't stop.

She locked her legs around his waist and pushed against him with frantic need. "Ken. Please."

That ragged little plea was his undoing, shattering his control and stealing his heart. He brought his hand down hard on her bottom, feeling the flare of heat rush through her. the wash of rich cream bathing his shaft in response. "You don't mind so well, Mari. We need to work on that."

"You're too slow."

"And I said I was going to make it good for you. Behave yourself." He wasn't certain he could do slow another stroke, teasing her body into compliance, but just to show her things would be done his way, he managed one more.

She cried out beneath him. locking her fingers on his shoulders, nails digging into him so that his nerve endings responded with a shock of electricity. He caught her hips and jerked her forward and up into him, angling her body to take more, take his full length. He wanted to bury every inch of himself in her, merge them so close together no one would ever be able to untangle them.

The moment he slammed his body into hers, driving deep, driving home, he forgot every good intention. His hips pistoned, his fingers dug into her firm buttocks to bring her body up to his. It was heaven to be in her narrow sheath, seemingly made just to rub over his scars and bring his cock to virile life. He could live here for hours, pushing her beyond every sexual limit she had ever conceived of, bringing her again and again to the peak of release, only to back off to hear her soft little pleas for mercy and see the lust building and building in her dark eyes.

She moaned his name, yanked at his hair, writhed under him, her legs locked in a tight grip as if she'd never let him go. She rose up to meet each stroke, crying out, driving him crazy with the way her small, hot muscles gripped him and her body was so eager for his. She had invaded every cell in his body, every bone, and his every organ, until he knew, no matter how long he lived, she would be the only woman he would ever crave.

The knowledge was alarming, terrifying, definitely dangerous, but there was no changing how he felt. His emotions were wrapped up every bit as tight and strong as his lust for her. The heat kept building, until he swore his semen was boiling in his balls, until lights flashed behind his eyelids and his mind roared with the fury of his desire. His cock swelled to bursting, pushing at the tight walls of her channel confining and constricting him, forcing the velvet heat over his scars until currents of pleasure swamped his nerve endings and ripped through his body.

Mari screamed and buried her face in his chest to muffle the cries as her body rippled and pulsed and shuddered with her orgasm, the muscles clamping down, convulsing around him, drawing out jet after jet of his hot release. Her orgasm seemed endless, her body rippling around his, at first hard and strong and then with more gentle aftershocks.

They lay together, locked in each other's arms, trying to find a way to breathe when their lungs were starved for air and their bodies were covered with a fine sheen of sweat. He kept his hand in her hair, fingers lazily massaging her scalp while his heart quieted and he felt strangely at peace.

"I could lie with you forever, Mari, just like this."

She smiled, her hands sliding possessively over his back. "I was thinking the same thing."

He shifted to take his weight from her, reluctantly leaving the haven of her body but wrapping an arm around her to bring her onto her side facing him. He loved the way her nipples were so erect and hard, an invitation lying against the sweet, swelling flesh.

"You deserve gentle, Mari," he said softly, kissing her as tenderly as he knew how. "I can't feel when I do gentle. God help me, I want to feel you when I'm deep inside you. I try to pull back, in my mind I try, but the need to feel you around me, to be that close to you, wins out and I can't do gentle."

"I didn't ask you to."

"There are marks all over you. I can't touch you without leaving behind bruises and little bite marks." He stroked a caress across her breast, tugged at her nipple, and was rewarded with her sharply drawn breath.

"I left a few scratches and bite marks on you." she reminded him. weaving her fingers together behind his neck, offering her breasts to his attention. "I'll tell you if you get too rough."

He couldn't resist the invitation and licked at one pert nipple, stroking his tongue over it and then tugging gently with his teeth. "I came here to comfort you, to hold you, not take you like this, in this horrible place. I want to take you home, baby, somewhere safe, far away from here. Come home with me. I swear. I had no intentions of doing anything but holding you in my arms."

A moan escaped when his mouth closed over her breast and he suckled, his mouth pulling strongly while his teeth teased and his tongued laved. "I want to go home with you." The words sounded strangled. His hand had slipped down her belly to rest at the junction between her legs.

"I could sneak you out of here," he tempted, his tongue flicking wickedly. Two fingers stroked along her pulsing entrance.

"All of the girls have to go." Her body jumped under the contact, his fingers pushing into her and finding her clit with lazy strokes. Each touch sent a vibration through her breasts to her nipples, where his teeth and tongue played. "And we have to make sure that Violet and her husband are safe."

He kissed her left breast and moved on to the right, this time pushing deep with his hand until she was riding him. They didn't have much time left together, and he would have to walk away and leave her locked up at Whitney's mercy. It was a terrifying thought, one that tied his belly in tight, hard knots. "After, will you come to Montana with me and see our home?" He stilled his hand, his mouth, his breath-waiting.

A heartbeat went by. She pushed against his fingers, trying for relief but he didn't move. "Is my sister there?"

"When we know it's safe, Jack will bring her there. It's their home as well, but I don't want you to come for Briony. I want you to come for me. No matter what, Briony is going to want to see you. She made us both promise to find you and bring you back to her." He suckled again, feeling the wash of her liquid response over his hand, and his fingers began their slow assault once more.

"I'm terrified of meeting her, Ken." She couldn't quite find her breath, but she never, never wanted him to stop. Lying in the dark with his hands and mouth roaming her body made her feel as if she belonged somewhere. This was for her, this slow, gentle wash of pleasure, completely for her and she knew it.

"You shouldn't be. She wants to love you, Mari. She wants her sister back. And she'll welcome the rest of your family. Briony is a generous, compassionate woman and courageous enough to take on my brother." His hand moved in earnest, thumb and fingers stroking caresses over every sensitive spot until she could feel the tension building and building all over again.

"As long as Whitney's alive, she'll be in danger."

"But not because of you. He had her adopted parents killed, and he tried to kidnap her the moment he found out she was pregnant."

"I can't believe she's going to have a baby." Her breath was coming in gasps.

"She couldn't believe it either. Whitney's team of super-soldiers did some damage to the house, but we've repaired it." Now his fingers were truly wicked, exploring and teasing and never quite giving her what she needed.

Mari tried to push harder against his hand, to trap him into giving her release. "He promised me that as long as I cooperated with him, he'd leave Briony alone."

Ken's teeth tugged at her nipple in a gentle punishment. "He never left her alone. He kept tabs on her all these years. He outlined her education and insisted on his own doctor treating her for all illnesses. Whitney lied about Briony just as he lied all those years to Lily."

"I feel so bad for Lily. It's a terrible thing to find out your entire childhood is built on a house of cards."' His ringers pushed deep, withdrew, then pushed against her clit until she wanted to sob with pleasure. She closed her eyes.

Ken leaned down and kissed her belly button. It was so like Mari to be concerned for Lily. Mari who had no childhood, who had been treated like a grown soldier before she could barely walk. "Look at me, sweetheart. Open your eyes and look into mine."

His voice was low and commanding and Mari's lashes lifted. Her gaze met his. saw the absolute possession there, the stark need and the stamp of ruthless control mixed with something that could be love. She'd never seen the emotion, so she wasn't certain that was what she was seeing, but she kept her gaze locked with his when he took her over the edge and had her crying out his name.