Toxic Game Read online Christine Feehan (GhostWalkers #15)

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: GhostWalkers Series by Christine Feehan
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Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
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Draden was certain his head was going to explode. He put down his champagne flute before he forgot he had it in his hand and caught her hair gently with his fists. Gripping. Not guiding. She didn’t need guidance: she wanted to be in charge. To explore. He gave her that because her tongue was talented, and every stroke had little explosions going off in his cock.

Then her mouth engulfed him, and he was in a tight, hot, wet tunnel, her tongue swirling up and down his shaft and then flicking the tip, rimming it and then going back to the base with that swirling motion that kept left him without a brain. Her tongue flicked under the crown, hitting the exact spot that threatened to end everything before it began.

She pulled her mouth off of him to wrap one hand around his cock while she took a mouthful of champagne. He stood above her, and she had to lean again to reach him. Keeping the champagne in her mouth, she sucked him gently into that hot tunnel. At once, bubbles burst around his shaft and the sensitive head. He’d never felt the sensation before and it felt like a thousand tongues lapped at him. He couldn’t help thrusting a little deeper. To his shock, she took him deeper, sucking and lashing him with her tongue.

“Look at me.” He had to see her eyes.

Her lashes lifted, and he was looking at his wife. Her lips were stretched wide around his thick shaft and her mouth worked as she continued to suck. Her brown eyes shone with pleasure, with something else as well. He could see lust mixed with love. Bright. Hungry. Needy. She was enjoying herself almost as much as he was and that added to the pleasure roaring through his veins. She’d said she’d practiced, and she hadn’t been kidding. She had all kinds of techniques and just when she was in one rhythm, she’d suddenly switch it up.

“Keep looking at me, Shylah. I’m going to blow. You might want to stop.”

Her eyes said there was no way she was stopping. More, she suddenly just swallowed him down. Took him deep. There was no warning, just the sudden squeezing of his shaft, those muscles working in her throat and the sight of that, the feel of it, sent his body exploding like a volcano. His cock jerked hard. Over and over. He stepped closer to her, his fists tightening in her hair, his first aggressive move, as he pushed his cock even deeper and held himself there, hips thrusting as lightly as he could control it.

It felt like every cell in his body went up in flames. From his toes to his head the fire swept through him. His spine nearly bowed under the explosive pleasure. He poured into her. Blasted like a rocket. The muscles surrounding him squeezed and milked. When he loosened his hold on her, she pulled back gently. Her tongue slid up his shaft. Swirled so lightly, the sensation helping to bring him back from wherever she’d flung him.

She lifted her head, took a swallow of champagne and then another mouthful. Once again she took him in her mouth and the bubbles surrounded his sensitive cock, licking at him nearly as gently as her tongue had.

He took several deep breaths before he could find his voice. “What the fuck, Shylah? Where the hell did you learn that?”

She sat back, a smug look on her face. “I had a lot of spare time, and I read. There are tons of interesting articles on technique, and I told you, I practiced. A lot.” She stroked her fingers over his cock and balls. “I didn’t think I’d ever find the right man to give my expertise to, but then you came along.”

He leaned down and kissed her. She tasted like champagne and sex. It took another minute to find the strength to walk to the other side of the table and it was only a couple of steps. “Here’s to your expertise, sweetheart. Feel free to practice anytime. You blew my head off.”

“I take it that’s a good thing.” She sounded complacent, and he knew she was well aware what she’d done to him.

His woman was a ferocious little tiger in and out of bed. She wasn’t in the least embarrassed. She was proud of herself and very confident. He really liked that. “I’m going to eat a lot. I think I need to keep up my strength.”

She nodded. “That’s a good idea. I don’t think you’re going to get a lot of sleep.”

He burst out laughing. “That’s my line, woman.”

“You created the monster.” She cut a small piece of the filet. Her expression changed. “Draden. Whoever cooked this, we have to take him home with us. Seriously. Even if we have to kidnap him. Or her. It had better not be a woman. You’ll fall in love with her.”


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