The Price of Freedom (Saurellian Federation 2) - Page 43/68

"Oh, it will be enough," Jess said quietly. "Between selling the ore and the ore carrier, we have more than enough to start a new life for ourselves. More than enough for Calla and Bragan, too."

They were at their hostel now, all closed up for the night. Next to the door was a security box. Jess pulled a small card out of his pocket and stuck it in a slot in the door. It swished open, and he guided her through the door and down the silent hall to their room. Then he opened that door, and they walked inside. Bethany tripped lightly once more and Jess caught her.

He pulled her into his arms, and she went to him with a sigh. What was it about this man that gave her such pleasure? she wondered She wrapped her arms around his body, feeling the muscles under his skin tensing as her fingers danced across them.

"Kiss me," she demanded, tilting her head up toward him.

Jess looked down at her, taken for a moment by the strange mix of her commanding tone with the soft blurring of her gaze. She was a little drunk from the wine, and more relaxed with him than he could ever remember her being.

How had he managed to find this woman? His life was suddenly all but perfect. He had Bethany, a ship, a future. Soon he would have his sister back, too, and together they would rescue Bragan. After that, who knew what wonderful things might happen. For the first time in his life he had a future, and the Goddess had even been gracious enough to give him someone to share it with. It was nothing short of a miracle.

Filled with a sense of wonder, he allowed his lips to take hers, marveling at their soft texture. He kissed her, lips closed, for several minutes. The soft warmth of her mouth against his was amazing—beautiful and exciting all at once. He could feel the blood rushing between his legs, feel his c**k rising with anticipation. In a bit he would slide that hard part of himself into her body, and the delicious warmth and wetness of her would close around him. The friction of her folds would carry him to new heights, and the squeezing of her muscles would draw a climax out of him more stunning than any other he had experienced before meeting her.

How had he even imagined those earlier fleeting encounters to be true sex? They were nothing compared to this, simply the release of tension, a bodily function completed. This was so much more.

She pressed closer to him, and he could feel the soft mounds of her br**sts against his chest. Her ni**les slowly hardened as his own responded. She shifted her legs against his restlessly, and then her tongue stole out of her mouth, burning a path along his lips. He opened for her and their tongues met playfully.

One of her hands stole down between them, cupping his erection lightly, and he shuddered.

He reached down and cupped both hands around her bu**ocks, lifting her easily into the air. She gasped, the motion pulling her head from his. Her hands clutched his shoulders for balance, and her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

He carried her across the room to their bed. It was larger and far more comfortable than that on the ore hauler, almost decadent in comparison.

Jess had been dreaming about taking her on a bed like this one since the first time he'd seen it. Now he carried her toward it, wishing their clothes were already gone and that he could thrust into her immediately.

Bethany seemed to be feeling the same way. She rubbed her clit against the hard ridge of his c**k through their clothing, straining at him for more stimulation. He laughed, and leaned over to settle her gently on the bed. She kept her hold on him, pulling him down with her. The move caught him off guard, and he fell down over her. She pulled him, rolling him across the bed until she was on top of him, leaning down against his chest and kissing him deeply. It took him off guard, although not in a bad way. He was simply amazed, and not for the first time, that the shy, quiet woman he had first met on the mining station had turned out to be so fiery. Even when he had first taken her from her people, she had seemed meek enough. He knew better now. She would be a formidable opponent if she ever turned on him.

The thought cooled him momentarily, then was gone as she kissed him again, pulling on his shirt. She wanted him naked, now. Her actions were clear. He wasn't about to fight with her.

He reached down to the hem of her dress, pulling it up and over her head. It was hard at first, their arms kept tangling together as they tugged at the clothing. Then she slithered out of the silky pants she wore under the dress and he raised his hips to lower his own pants. The cool air hit his cock, but did nothing to dampen his arousal. He wanted to feel that slick warmth close him. He would never get enough of her.

Never.

Now she was naked, with the warmth of her soft skin fluttering against his body in so many places he felt like he was dying. How could a man survive something like this, night after night? His heart was pounding, every nerve in his body singing. He could feel the pressure in his loins, building and growing impossibly stronger as she pushed against his erection. Then she moved to straddle him, and he could feel her heat. It was a tangible presence, all but touching him even though his aching c**k was still inches from her opening. She lowered her body over his slowly and deliberately, her fingers catching and stopping his hand when he tried to pull her down more quickly. It was tortuous and beautiful all at once. He was going to die.

She sheathed him. For one glorious moment he was content, held within her pulsing body as she squeezed slowly and steadily. Their heartbeats seemed to meld, as if they shared a physical connection so strong that they truly were one creature at that moment. Then she squeezed him again, and he was filled with the need to move, to thrust into her deeply, repeating himself until she screamed and spasmed around him. But she wasn't playing along.

Bethany raised her body and laughed as his hips pulled back from hers, pressing down into the bed. He needed more friction, more movement. It wasn't enough to simply experience this teasing slowness. He had to feel more, had to have her flesh rubbing back and forth against his. Time to take control.

Without warning, he sat up and flipped her over beneath him. She squealed in protest, but he ignored her, grimly thrusting in and out of her. She was slick with need for him, and her grunts as he started pounding into her were more than enough evidence that she was enjoying it every bit as much as he. He wanted to go harder, deeper. He wanted to plant his seed in her. The thought of it turned his vision red, and he closed his eyes, focusing every bit of his energy on thrusting into her again and again.

She was panting and gasping now and he knew her orgasm must be close. The thought of her beneath him, helpless, surged through him like the sweetest of wines. He could taste her need, thrust into her to emphasize that only he could provide her with this. The thought of her approaching another man flitted through his head. No. He wouldn't let himself think of that. She was his, all his, and he was marking her.