Gatekeeper (25 page)

Jillian stared. Her heart felt as if it were about to burst inside her chest. She was so full of love for him her body could no longer contain it. Tears welled in her eyes.

Benton’s thumb slid up and tenderly brushed the dampness from the corner of her eye. “Don’t cry, darlin’.” His voice was whisper soft. “I need you to be strong for me.” His mouth descended on hers in a tender kiss. Jillian couldn’t help but respond. She felt him trembling but then, so was she.

He took her face in his palms and his kiss deepened. It was endless and resolute and thoroughly, utterly complete.

Jillian unbelted her robe and shrugged it off her shoulders. It slid into a pool around her ankles. His palms moved over her body, rubbing, cupping, touching every inch of her skin.

She lifted her gaze to his. “I want you naked.”

A devastating smile claimed his lips. The dimples at the corners of his mouth deepened seductively. He undressed in record in time. She admired his perfectly sculpted body and then she grasped his shoulders and dragged him down to the bed with her. He lay on top of her, his gaze locked with hers. “You are so, so beautiful.”

A blush infused her cheeks.

His mouth claimed hers in a tender, soft kiss. How could he be so passionate one moment and so affectionate the next? The two very different sides of his sensuality sent little curls of pleasure spiraling downward.

He was deep in her mouth. She wanted him deep in her pussy. “Benton, please…”

His gaze locked with hers as he settled himself over her body. She was foolish to let this continue—but she couldn’t resist him. He was poised over her with his thick, engorged cock, ready to take her with fire smoldering in his eyes. She could almost come just looking at him and she’d be damned but she could just about forget anything in the heat of making love to him—even the fact that his spirit would soon be whisked away.

His hand crept between their bodies and possessively cupped her mound.

“Please…” she whimpered again. She bucked upward.

His gaze caught hers. A tear seeped out of the corner of her eye and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

A muscle in his throat clenched. “I love you, darlin’. You know that, don’t you?”

She bit down harder on her lips and managed a jerky nod.

A sad smile tugged on his lips and he slanted his head to kiss away the tear that coursed from her eye down toward her hair.

“Open your legs for me, darlin’,” he whispered against her ear.

Immediately, her thighs flew open and she felt the bulbous head of his cock searching and prodding and then finding her hole.

She bit back a sob as he entered her.

Her hands roamed over his back and she could feel his power and strength. She wanted him to pound her until she begged for mercy but he didn’t. Not this time.

This time, he made love to her slowly, withdrawing inch by pulsating inch of his thick cock and then deliberately thrusting it into her again—a long, slow slide that made her undulate underneath him. She arched and pressed her clit against that place where his penis joined his body.

His hand moved underneath her to cup her ass and he lifted her against him, holding her up so that his body ground hers right where she wanted it. Jillian hooked her legs around his. The muscles in her thighs burned. Faster. Why wouldn’t he fuck her faster?

She whimpered and it was all the impetus he needed to buck into her. She rolled against him, clinging, begging, crying—wanting him to bring her over the edge again and again.

Finally, her pussy contracted and a wave unfurled within her that crested slowly only to crash violently, leaving her boneless and floating on some otherworldly plane.

Still inside her, still kissing her face, her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips, he tenderly continued to make love to her, while Jillian tried not to think about him leaving. But so many questions darted through her thoughts. Would he still remember her on the Other Side? Would he still love her when they met again when it was her time? Would he even know her?

* * * * *

Much later, when they were both breathless and sated, she lay in his arms, memorizing every solid inch of him, relishing the feel of his hard body beneath her palms. But then, their gazes would fuse and he would take her all over again.

Long after midnight, she lay under the covers on her side of the bed, spooned against him. His arms and legs were entwined possessively around her. His warm, soft breath fanned the back of her neck. Drowsy, she struggled to stay awake but her eyelids felt heavy. Her whole body felt drained and sore and raw. He lay so still she wondered if he was sleeping but she was too tired to turn over.

The past few days had taken their toll on her. A shudder swept through her when she recalled the feel of the sword plunging into Lynn Bowers’ hulking body but Benton pulled her closer and she felt safe and protected and loved. She took a deep, deep breath and blew it out slowly. She had become resigned to the fact that he had to leave her—to move into the Light. Especially after she’d witnessed exactly what kind of power the soul collectors could wield over a spirit. They had dragged Lynn’s soul down into the hellish depths. The idea of Benton meeting a similar fate was unthinkable. No, she would much rather know his soul was safe even if it meant she wouldn’t see him again in this lifetime—even if it meant she would
never
see him again.

She loved him that much.

A hard lump welled in her throat.

How would she ever make it through life without him? She’d counseled countless people with grief issues. And she knew from listening to their experiences, the old adage that time healed everything was wrong. Time healed nothing.

She turned over and faced Benton. His eyes were open. She forced a tiny smile. “Can’t sleep?”

“Won’t sleep.”

Looking at him in the moonlight, she realized she’d come a long, long way from that little girl who was afraid of ghosts standing beside her bed in the night. Now, she had a ghost
in
the bed with her. And then, as if something snapped inside her, she realized that her fear had never been of the ghosts at all. She was afraid because of the terror and sense of abandonment she’d felt when her mother had died—when her mother’s spirit had come into her and Amy’s room—when Amy had joyously sent her to the Light while Jillian lay heartbroken and scared.

Now it was happening again.

But this time, the stakes were different. She wasn’t a child. She was a grown woman in love, who was facing the imminent fact that the man she loved was going to be swept away into the Light and she would never see him, touch him, feel him or make love to him again.

Her heart felt like a hard knot in her chest.

Benton’s gaze swept her face. He brushed a palm over her hair. “I love the way your dark hair looks against the white of the pillowcase.”

She smiled and fingered the little triangular beard under his bottom lip. “You know, these are back in style but only rock stars wear them.”

“Rock stars?” His brow creased.

She laughed. “Musicians.”

He rubbed it in thought. “I assumed it made me look older. I was only twenty-two when I was made colonel of our company and twenty-four when I received my commission as brigadier.”

“Wow. That’s an amazing accomplishment at such a young age.”

He laughed. It was a warm, rich sound. “Not really, darlin’. All the older officers got killed off.”

“Do you ever regret fighting?” She ran her fingertip along the well-defined, hard line of his jaw.

“Regret it? I didn’t have the luxury of regret. Fighting was the thing to do. It was a matter of honor.”

Honor. It was something Jillian could not comprehend. The only thing to which she could compare it was a sense of self-respect. It was also something she felt was not open to discussion with him. She changed the subject. “So, how do women now compare to women of your time?”

His dimples deepened. “The only difference I’ve noted is that women not only act like they wear britches, they
do
wear britches.”

This time, it was Jillian’s turn to laugh.

“But don’t misunderstand me. I like the way you look in ’em.” His smile faded. “You’re beautiful when you laugh.” He traced one of her eyebrows. “And your eyes turn a dark shade of green, like the color of moss on creek stones when you’re…aroused.” The gray in his eyes smoldered. Jillian had already seen that look three times since they’d gotten in the bed but her body reacted the same way to seeing it a fourth. Her already-aching clitoris swelled. She shifted beneath the sheets and reached for him.

He inhaled sharply. His cock was already hard. She gasped. A twinge of surprise passed through her. Had he been like this when he was alive or was his hearty libido a by-product of being alone for so many years?

Jillian, however, could not mistake what animated her sudden passion. It was love. Pure and simple. She loved him. She loved everything about him. And knowing he would soon be gone from her forever made her want him that much more.

Disappearing under the covers, she kissed her way down his chest to his navel. His stomach tightened at her touch. He threw the covers back, exposing them both. Jillian smiled as he propped himself up on two pillows to get a better view.

She brushed her lips against his rock-hard arousal. “Do you like it when I do this?”

He swallowed. “Yes,” he murmured huskily.

Brazenly keeping eye contact with him, she ran her tongue down the length, all the way to the base and then back up again. “What about that, Benton? Do you like that?” Her voice was low, seductive.

“Yes.” His brow furrowed. He looked expectant. Impatient. He rocked his hips upward slightly.

Grazing the head of his cock with her lips once more, she looked into his eyes. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

The breath left his body in a rush. “More of that.”

She gave him a half smile. “Tell me, Benton. More of what?” She pressed a teasing kiss to the swollen, plum-colored tip.

His fingers burrowed into the hair at the nape of her neck and he nudged her head downward. She resisted. “Oh no.” She shook her head and smiled. “You have to tell me what you want.”

Obviously debating, he bit his bottom lip. His gaze sizzled. He throbbed in her hand. A groan tore from his parted lips. “I want you to put my cock in your mouth.” He enunciated every word, leaving her with no doubt as to what he wanted. “And then I want you to climb up here and plant that hot little cunny of yours on it and ride me.”

Jillian gasped. She’d never been shocked by a man’s words—until now. She stared.

“Dammit, I said put it in your mouth.” But a devilish grin dispelled the adamancy in his voice.

A laugh bubbled up inside her and she buried her head against his hip. He laughed too and took her by the shoulders to pull her up to him. “But…” she began.

He positioned her legs on either side of him. “Let’s start with the part about you riding me.” He guided her onto his arousal. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten what I told you to do
first
.”

Jillian sighed as he filled her to capacity but she was no longer in any mood to play. He felt good and warm and she felt so full and so, so complete. Her dark hair fanned his face as she planted her palms on his hard slab of chest muscle and leaned forward. Voicing her pleasure, she rocked her hips rhythmically.

“Do you still want me to tell you what I’d like for you to do to me?” Benton asked. He toyed with one of her nipples. Her pussy tightened instinctively around him.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to kiss me.”

He pushed back her hair as she claimed his mouth, thrusting her tongue inside, tasting, probing. And for a fleeting moment, she forgot he was a spirit and she was a living, breathing woman. She forgot he would have to soon make the transition to the Light. And she forgot a killer was still out there waiting, watching.

But she didn’t forget what he’d asked her to do to him
first
. With a wicked little chuckle, she dismounted and kissed her way back down his long, lean body.

She sucked his cock into her mouth, running her tongue around the head and then taking as much of him as she possibly could. Entwining her fingers around his thick penis, she used her hand in tandem with her mouth, sucking the head as she flicked her tongue over it.

He writhed beneath her. His fingers slid into her hair. She could feel him trembling, could taste the saltysweet pre-cum mingled with her own sweet pussy juice.

“Squeeze my balls, darlin’.” His voice was ragged. His whole body was taut and she could tell he was trying to hold back.

Jillian was exultant. Her fingers tightened around his sac and he gasped. She loved that she could do this to him—that she could make him come this way. She wanted to drain him, to taste him in her mouth and suck up every last drop of his cream.

He guided her head, moving her with shorter, tense strokes and suddenly he was bursting and pumping himself into her mouth, filling her with his honeysweet cum.

Jillian swallowed it all before resting her head on his hip. He lay limply back on the sheets with his fingers languidly circling in her hair.