"Yes, Grand-mere told me her family developed them and took them to the police in the hopes that they'd see a clue to her disappearance. The other photos were taken of the other missing girl's bedroom. Lily had duplicates made for us." His voice had gone husky and he could feel his body beginning to pulse with awareness.
"There's something here I'm not getting, Raoul. I can feel it." She didn't look back at him but bent closer to the photographs. "Maybe we should enlarge these. There's a small ripped piece of paper on the corner of this nightstand."
He couldn't tear his gaze away from her. She was far more exposed now. He caught glimpses of the inviting entrance between her legs barely covered with a scrap of black lace. She brought up her foot and absently rubbed her calf with it before putting it down, her stance a little wider. The hem of the shirt was halfway up her bottom, exposing the globes of her ass to him. His air ran out and his lungs burned.
"You know what I think this is? Remember when Parsons's driver handed him his business card to give me? I think this is part of his card. He only had a number on it and I can make out part of a number on this ripped piece. That means that other missing girl had contact with Parsons, his son, or the driver at some point."
"That makes sense, especially if that snake had the balls to rip your shirt. Good aim, by the way." His voice was husky. "You tore up his face."
"With the drink. I thought he was trying to drug me." She leaned her elbows on the table to study the various photographs. "I can't believe how foggy my mind is. I keep trying to remember the details about what happened and to be honest, I just can't quite remember everything. It's so freakin' frustrating I want to scream. I should stop taking the painkillers. They're fogging my brain."
"Give yourself time, cher, it will come back." He set the bottle aside and got to his feet, drawn by the smooth temptation of her skin. His breath came in ragged gasps and his voice was hoarse. He stood directly behind her until he could feel the heat of her body. He pressed one hand on her lower spine and the other slid over the bare silky skin of her bottom. The feel of her took what little breath he had left. "I have to see this black thong."
She didn't protest. He heard the hitch of her breath and she went very still beneath his exploring caresses. He pushed the shirt up farther until he could see the three rows of black rolled string with the tiny bows down the middle disappearing between the firm globes of her bottom. "Mon Dieu! Is this your idea of nightwear?" He couldn't keep his hands off of her, rubbing and massaging almost compulsively. He had no idea he was virtually holding her down with his other hand.
"Not exactly. Remember, all of my clothes were burned."
"Grand-mere didn't buy these." He made it a statement as he tugged at the thin lacy strip covering everything he wanted.
"Like hell she didn't." Flame closed her eyes, suddenly frightened of the things he could do to her body when he wasn't even trying. She couldn't move, didn't want him to stop, yet paradoxically, was terrified of where it would lead.
"She buys these sexy panties but gives you a man's shirt to sleep in?"
There was a small telling silence. "I can't possibly wear what she sent."
"She sent you a nightgown?" The hand at her spine began to make small circles to match the stroking on her bottom.
Flame closed her eyes, pushing back against his hand, feeling damp liquid heat pooling low in response. "Not exactly." It was the only response she could manage to get out. Her brain was melting right along with her body.
His hand spread the massaging circle wider, moving up her back until he suddenly stopped. A flare of excitement arced between them. "Femme sexy. You're wearing a knife."
"I always wear a knife."
He pushed her shirt up until he found the small leather sheath snuggled along her back. Gator bent forward and pressed a kiss against her bare spine. "You know how much that turns me on."
"Everything turns you on."
"Baby, I'm so turned on I'm about to burst out of my jeans." He bent forward, right over the top of her, his hardened groin pressed tightly against her buttocks as he pulled the knife out of the sheath and laid it on the table. "I want to see the outfit."
His voice was so damned sexy, his soft drawling whisper. Flame thought her legs might turn to rubber. She could feel the blush starting somewhere at her toes and consuming her entire body. He moved away from her and she straightened, almost afraid to turn around, but she couldn't stop herself.
Gator pulled open the shopping bag and dragged out the tiny scrap of mesh and leather. "This is it? This is what Grand-mere sent you to sleep in?"
She nodded wordlessly, her hand on her throat.
He glanced down into the bag. "What else is in here?"
"Don't look. Whatever you do, don't look in there." Her voice was strangled.
He pulled the shopping bag wider and withdrew a small paddle covered in fake leopard skin. Flame groaned, her color deepening. He pulled a wireless strand of three small vibrating eggs with a little remote and some furred handcuffs. She covered her face. "My, my. Looks like we're in for a long night of fun and games, cher."
"What was your grandmother thinking?"
"She was thinking she needed to move us along in our relationship. She wants action obviously." He held out the garment. "Put it on."
"Look at it. I can't put that on, it's crotchless."
He smirked at her. "I know. She chose it because it has no straps and you can easily get into it."
"You're such a perv."
"Put it on for me, cher." One hand went to the front of his jeans. Her gaze followed as he stroked unselfconsciously, a soft groan of excitement escaping.
Flame stood motionless looking at the impossible scrap of leather and mesh and the man holding it out to her. Stark desire was so intense, so raw, it deepened the color of his dark eyes to almost midnight black. She shook her head, knowing she was going to give in to him, knowing all that mattered to her in that moment was pleasing him.
She took the outfit and retired to the bathroom, refusing to struggle into it one-handed in front of him. If he looked into the bag he was going to find the whipped cream and the oils and the scented candles. And she knew he was going to look into the bag. Why that excited her, she had no idea, but maybe being a pervert was contagious. She mulled it over while she dressed, or rather undressed. There was no doubt that she was getting even more turned on at the idea of his reaction to seeing her in the very revealing and risque outfit.
"You coming out anytime soon, or do I have to come in and get you?"
Flame looked at the little pile of clothing, the oversized plaid shirt, the black thong, the leather sheath and harness for her knife and she took a deep breath. Once she stepped out that door there was no turning back.
"Cher." He sounded impatient, sexy, hoarse with need. "The suspense is killing me. You want me to come to you?"
Flame opened the door and sauntered out, pretending to be confident and casual and that a million men had seen her with nothing on but leather and mesh. The leather part of the bustier pushed up under her breasts into the black mesh that ended just under her nipples, so that she was completely exposed. The mesh was open around her belly button and crotch and buttocks, but clung to her waist and ribs.
The room was dark other than the glow of several candles. She was grateful for that, particularly when she saw that Raoul was completely naked. He was very well endowed. She couldn't help staring. There were a couple of things she should have mentioned to him before she ever put on leather and mesh, but now, when she had his undivided attention, she was afraid it was too late. He stood beside the bed, the silly sex toys laid out on the end table as if he intended using every one. Her heart accelerated at the sight and she knew he could hear it because he held out his hand to her.
Gator moistened suddenly dry lips. "Mon Dieu. You have a beautiful body." He made a small circle with his fingers.
She forced herself to turn around slowly for him, showing off the outfit a
nd the bare body beneath it. With him watching, her nipples hardened into tight peaks and her breasts ached for attention. She watched as he circled the rigid length of his shaft with his fist as he said something in French she wished she understood.
"Come here." His body shook with wanting her. He had been with other women, but he had never felt like this. He'd never needed like this. In that moment, when she'd emerged from the bathroom looking so damned sexy in her outfit, the realization that he'd been isolated for so long came to him. She was sunshine. Laughter. Fine wine and silk sheets or beer in the bayou with the setting sun. She was secrets and sex and his very own warrior. She was his equal. She was everything he could want standing right in front of him.
She could hardly breathe, but Flame wasn't a woman to back down once she'd made up her mind. He was looking at her, his face etched with desire and his body as starkly aroused as it could be, holding out his hand to her and she took it, allowing him to draw her close.
Careful of her broken arm, Gator bunched her hair in his hand and, tilting her head, caught her soft sigh in his mouth. The hard peaks of her nipples pressed tightly into his chest as her body melted into his. His tongue tangled with hers, hot and moist until a river of need burst free in him. He wanted her so much he couldn't breathe, couldn't think straight. Her skin was incredibly soft against his and her throaty little moans nearly drove him mad.
He kissed her over and over, rough with desire, until she was pressing her body against his, rubbing her soft belly against his arousal. The mesh brushed against his ultrasensitive groin until he was afraid he might explode. His mouth left hers to trail down her throat, nibbling along her neck until he found the creamy mounds spilling out of her costume. He thumbed her nipples, watching her eyes darken with desire.
She cried out when his mouth closed over her nipple, suckling hard while his fingers tugged at her other breast through the mesh. She arched her body into his, wanting more of him. His hand slid down between her legs, to cover her dampness and she jerked in his arms, her need nearly as strong as his own. He took his time, lavishing attention on her breasts, rubbing the mesh over her skin with his chin, teasing her belly button with his tongue, all the while, moving her backward to the bed.
When the edge of the bed hit the back of her knees, he lowered her, his mouth once more on hers, hard and insistent, refusing to allow her a moment to think. She had taken him to the very edge of his control and they'd only gotten started. She kissed him back, every bit as hungry as he was, but her eyes contained a hint of fear. She moaned in his arms, her body moving naturally against his, yet her touch was unsure.
"You want me." His lips left hers and returned to her breasts, his teeth and tongue teasing, mouth suckling, pulling strongly, hands tugging and massaging. He loved the animalistic sounds coming from her throat. He looked at her body, flushed with desire, breasts swollen and nipples hard peaks, her breathing as ragged as his. Beneath his wandering hand her stomach muscles contracted and her hips moved restlessly. "But I want more from you, Flame. I want you crying for me. I want you needing me the way I do you. I need more."
Flame couldn't imagine there being more. More might kill her. He wanted her crying? She was nearly sobbing for mercy. His mouth was so hot, blazing a trail of fire along her tummy. He paid particular attention to her tattoo, licking along the flames, kissing her scar, driving her crazy. His hand slid up her thigh, drowning her in sensations she'd never experienced.
His eyes met hers as his tongue paid lavish attention to her belly button, and then began to track lower, dropping little kisses and teasing bites all the way down to the end of the mesh. His fingers brushed her mound and she jerked beneath his hand, a moan escaping, one that brutally hardened him to the point of agony. He wanted to sink into her heat immediately, but not before she was writhing mindlessly. Flame was a warrior woman and he needed to keep her involved, because if she changed her mind, he'd have a fight on his hands. He lowered his head and inhaled her scent.
"Raoul."
There was a catch in her voice. A tremor. He heard it as he flicked his tongue along the flowering moist seam. She nearly came apart as he widened her thighs to accommodate his shoulders. He pushed his tongue inside her with a slow deliberate stroke. Her hand twisted in his hair and she pushed forward into his mouth.
She tasted sweet, like honey and he couldn't stop himself from diving deeper, taking his fill. He flicked and stabbed with his tongue, sucked and teased until she bucked against his mouth, sobbing for release.
Flame tried to find an anchor, something, anything at all to hold her to earth. She wasn't prepared for his expertise and Raoul was sweeping her away before she could catch her breath, or think or analyze or do any of the things she needed to do for control. His mouth was insistent, drinking her, eating her, shattering her every erotic fantasy and replacing it with something far too real. He seemed to savor her taste, groaning with need, hot and hungry and desperate for more.
Flame couldn't catch her breath as pleasure crashed over her, wave after wave of it, her body not her own, but his to do with as he wanted. She screamed as her entire stomach contracted, her belly, and breasts and her thighs. "I can't take any more." She gasped the words, wanting more, needing more, but afraid it was going to kill her.
"There's so much more," he whispered. "I want to be inside you, Flame. I can't wait any longer."
The sound of his voice, the look on his face, the harsh hunger for her nearly sent her over the edge. She widened her legs as he knelt between them. Her heart began to pound and fear edged up into her throat. She wasn't giving herself to him. It wasn't like that at all. She repeated it over and over to herself, waiting. Feeling the large head of his erection pressed tightly against her. He pushed slightly, but he didn't enter her, making her wait.
"Look at me."
She swallowed hard, her eyes meeting his. He wasn't even in her and he felt too big. She should have started with something much smaller.
"You've never done this before, have you?" His voice was harsh with the struggle for control.
Flame shook her head. "Who was I going to do anything with?" Her fist tightened in the quilt. If he stopped, she had no idea what she was going to do. She knew so much in theory, but he was light-years ahead of her.
It shouldn't have made him feel more possessive to know that no other man had had her. It was a primitive way to think, but he was beyond all reason, it seemed, when it came to Flame.
"This is us. You and me, Flame. And this is my choice. I want you because of who and what you are, not because of an experiment. You're in my heart. You have to understand that. This is only between us."
She could hardly think or breathe, her body not her own anymore. His features were set and determined. He was waiting for a response. She didn't have one, didn't know what was real when it came to her life. She'd never had a man want her the way Raoul did. His hunger was so raw, so intense she almost couldn't believe it was for her. She managed a nod, lifting her hips, searching for more, searching for relief. She needed him inside of her now.
He watched her face as he began to push into her body. "You're so fuckin' tight you're killing me, Flame." And hot and slick and velvet soft yet gripping him like a fist. He stretched her slowly, terrified of hurting her, but far too close to losing his own control.
She thought he had it the wrong way around. He was killing her, stretching her impossibly. It stung, burned, yet it felt so good. She didn't know if she wanted to fight him off of her, or drag him closer.
"Don't move."
She realized she had been moving, pressing closer, trying to take more of him, wanting all of him. She could feel her muscles clenching around him, gripping him tight, beginning to spasm with the hard slide of his body. She moved again, an enticing little wiggle she couldn't quite stop. He groaned and surged forward, past the thin barrier to lodge deep. The bite of pain mingled with a burst of pleasure and the breath exploded out of her lungs in a single rush.
"It's all right now." His voice was strained. He moved, withdrawing from her, so that she held her breath at the first feel of fiery friction. He surged into her deep and hard, making her cry out. His arms looped beneath her thighs giving him a better angle so each time he pistoned forward through her tight folds, he could hear that breathless little cry over and over. It seemed to vibrate through his body and center in his groin adding to his own pleasure.
Her body squeezed tightly around his until he felt sweat beading on his forehead with the intensity of the sensations pouring over him. She was so hot and the sight of her, lying under him, her body sprawled out for his pleasure alone was enough to send him into oblivion. With every hard stroke as he thrust into her, her round breasts swayed, nipples hard with desire--for him. Her eyes were slightly glazed and her breath was ragged. Her soft little moans drove him crazy, vibrating through his body, swelling his cock more than he'd ever experienced.
Gator didn't want to stop, wanted to be forever just like this, his idea of paradise, thrusting in and out of her tight body with hard, deep strokes, watching the effect of his body on hers, the near ecstasy washing over her and the idea that she was his. Only his. That she opened to him, body and mind and heart when she never let any other so close. That alone was a huge turn-on to him.
The walls of her channel tightened impossibly around him with hard deep spasms, contracting and squeezing, the orgasm exploding over both of them, robbing him of what little control he had left. He swelled impossibly bigger, his balls drawing up painfully and then he was surging hard, pounding into her, a single long note of ecstasy escaping from his throat. His orgasm seemed endless, a merciless volcano pouring through his body and into hers while she sobbed, clutching at the quilt, trying to ride out the exquisite torment.
Flame didn't think her body would ever stop the rocketing spasms. Wave after wave of sheer pleasure rippled through her body, and when she thought it would subside, he moved, just a bit, and aftershocks instantly took over, shaking her and throwing her into another quaking round. She clung to him, shocked that he could make her body so responsive, so sensitive and so incredibly hot.