Home>>read Shadow Reaper (Shadow #2) free online

Shadow Reaper (Shadow #2)(68)

By:Christine Feehan




He slid the rope along her lower lips and then worked it from her back to her front, creating a series of diamonds on her body, all the way around. He used red rope for the diamonds so that the pattern ran through the black, setting the color off and drawing attention to the red lace barely covering her mound and her breasts.



       
         
       
        



Mariko gasped and writhed in the ropes, her eyes meeting his in shock as the double ropes moved lovingly over her sex. He directed her into position again and she yielded with absolute grace, her body following the guidance of his hands like a dance partner, almost as if she knew where he would place her just by the ripple of his muscle and his steady breathing. Their connection was growing with every diamond he laid against her skin. All the while his fingers brushed against her, judging the temperature of her body, always aware of her state of health. Right now, her desire was heightened, her need for him growing.



With every length of the rope, he was wrapping himself around her. Claiming her. The coils were an extension of him, his desire and lust. His growing love for her and his need to protect her. He gave her diamonds because to him she deserved diamonds. She was a treasure he cherished.



He guided her with his hands, knowing every movement of her body sent that rope sliding over her pulsing sex. He couldn't touch her as he wanted yet. He couldn't use his hands and mouth to bring her pleasure, but he knew other ways and he used them. Ruthless. Wicked. Allowing passion and art to flow together. Talking to her without words. Hoping she understood where his heart was going. His soul. He was laying it out for her as surely as he laid the rope against her skin.



He stood in front of her, looking at his work, the contrast of red and black, the lace and emphasis on her breasts and sex. She looked beautiful, even more so than when he'd started. Her skin was flushed, her eyes bright with desire.



"Are you comfortable? Enough for me to photograph you?" He stayed close to her, absorbing her heat. Her scent.



She touched her tongue to her lips, moistening them. "Yes."



"I'm going to kiss you, because if I don't, I don't know if I'll survive the next few minutes." It wasn't a question. He didn't ask for permission this time. He told her because that was fair.



He pulled her to him, using the ropes to bring her into his body, deliberately allowing the diamonds to rub deliciously over her body as the double ropes sliding between her lips sent darts of fire straight to her sex. His mouth settled over hers, and instantly he was gone. Transported. There was a kind of paradise in the sweetness of her taste. The velvet heat of her mouth.



He heard himself groan. He was so far gone on her. His body hurt from constant arousal, but this was for her. To show her how beautiful she was. How powerful. How much he wanted her. That he was giving himself to her. All of him. Bad and good. He kissed her over and over, deliberately shifting her in his arms to keep her arousal high. He rubbed his chest tight against her nipples, stimulating them as well. When he knew he wouldn't be able to pull back if he didn't stop, he lifted his head and pressed his forehead to hers. 



"Thank you, Mariko. Thank you for this." She'd come to him. Initiated their session. Given herself to him to keep him from pounding out his anger on the heavy bag.



She lifted her long lashes and looked into his eyes. He saw her surrender there and his heart stuttered in his chest and he had to let go of her before he lost all control.



"You have to know I want you with every breath I take," he admitted.



She smiled, and it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Resolutely he turned away to get the camera. He spent the next forty minutes photographing her. Positioning her. Watching her desire rise with every frame he took. Every movement of the ropes. The flush on her skin. The need in her eyes. Her breathing. He captured the moments on film knowing he would never let another living soul see her this way. She was for him. This was private. An intimacy only between the two of them. He also knew he would put some of these pictures on canvas and hang them in his private studio.



Just as he was putting down the camera, judging that she was near her limit and still had to allow him to untie her, his phone vibrated. Not the normal vibration, but the one that was programmed in by Taviano  – his genius of a brother who came up with all sorts of gadgets for them. He glanced down at his phone. Emilio. This particular vibration meant one thing: they were under attack.



He caught up the shears he always had on him when working and hurried to her. Wrapping one arm around her, he began to carefully cut away his ropes. "I know you're exhausted, Mariko. You should be lying in my lap, my arms around you, holding you close while you come back slowly, but we don't have time. The enemy has found us here and we're going to be in a fight any minute. I'm going to cut you loose and carry you to the chair. I want you to drink water and then put on my T-shirt."