Page 47 of Hot Zone

A stretching fullness became almost but not quite painful as he filled her up. Then filled her more. And more. She was impaled on a staff, the hardness and size of which were unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

His big hands reached beneath her. Grabbed her buttocks. Lifted her hips with shocking ease, drawing her up to him. And somehow, she took in even more of him. Finally, he was seated to the hilt within her. If she moved a single millimeter, she was going to split in half. But as it was, the sensation was absolutely incredible. Ripples of pleasure spread outward from her internal muscles to the farthest corners of her body.

As if he knew her predicament, he held himself still, only the faintest pulsation of movement in his shaft letting her know it was living flesh within her and not hot steel. Her own body began to pulsate in response.

Her hips didn’t move—they couldn’t, for he held her buttocks firmly in his hands. But her internal muscles began to clench and release, clasping him, drawing him into her, milking his flesh, coaxing him deeper into this unbearable pleasure with her.

He groaned, and his fingers dug into her flesh, but still he did not move.

And then, finally, she understood. He was waiting for her to move against him. For her to set the limits of what was pleasurable and what was painful for her. She withdrew slightly, then eased forward.

He groaned again, the sound wrung from deep in his chest. Emboldened by it, she moved again, cautiously finding a rhythm, and then increasing its tempo. As her body gradually accommodated his size, she grew bolder and more athletic. His eyes closed and he tipped his head back, his neck and arm muscles straining, veins standing out in stark relief beneath his skin as she drove him into oblivion.

At some point, she levered herself upright as he knelt, looping her arms around his neck, sliding up and down on him like a wild thing. Without warning, he lunged forward and bit her neck. Hard. He didn’t draw blood, but pain shot through her, mingling with and somehow intensifying the latest orgasm ripping through her. He bit her again, marking her as his, and she quite simply exploded.

His arms wrapped fiercely around her, and the two of them zoomed up and out of themselves into the night, so fast her eyes could hardly register planets and stars and entire solar systems flashing past.

A planet with a red sky came into view, a brief glimpse of a half human, half horse people, and then she and Rustam were flying again, ever onward. How many alien planets and peoples she saw, how many nebulae, how many swirling spirals of gas and shooting rays of light, she could not say. The brilliance of it was breathtaking.

And then, as soul-deep shudders started to build inside them both, the entire vastness collapsed back in on them, a billion rushing points of light imploding around them as a pleasure she’d had no concept of even imagining broke over them both.

Rustam shouted against her neck, surging up beneath her. A keening cry tore from her throat to mingle with his as his seed spilled, hot and thick, so deep within her it filled her womb. For a moment, the entire galaxy whirled around them, fathomless and infinite.

And then Rustam fell backward, pulling her down on top of him, their bodies still joined. And they were back on Earth once more. Lying on solid ground.

He drew great, panting breaths beneath her, his chest heaving, while sweat poured from her trembling body to bathe them both. If someone had told her in that instant that the world was coming to an end and she had to move if she was going to live, she would not have been able to lift a single finger.

How long they lay like that, she couldn’t say. It took her a while to recover—that being a relative thing after the performance he’d just put her body through. It took easily ten to fifteen minutes for the shuddering aftermath of her orgasms to finally stop racking her. She eventually regained the ability to move. A little.

He finally slipped carefully out of her and she managed to roll to his side, where he tucked her head against his shoulder and drew her close to his warmth.

Some pillow talk was probably appropriate. She should acknowledge his victory over her, should admit that she’d shamelessly begged him for sex and would happily do so again. But the only words that formed in her mind were things like Wow. Unbelievable. Earth-shattering. Epic.

He surprised her by murmuring, “Thank you. And I agree.”

“With what?”

“With what you were just thinking. That was, indeed, epic.”

“For you, too?”

He lifted his head enough to look down at her, one eyebrow arched. “You need to ask?”

“I would hate to think that the most mind-boggling sex I’ve ever experienced—by a lot—was just another day at the office for you.”

He collapsed back against the ground, laughing quietly. “No. That was not…the usual.”

Thank goodness.As her brain finally began to function again, albeit sluggishly, she frowned. “What were those images you sent me?”

He tensed beside her. “What images?”

“The places. The people. You said you were going to fly with me, but I swear, you just took me on a guided tour of the galaxy.”

He went board-stiff beneath her, so tense it felt as if he might splinter into a million painfully sharp slivers.

She sat up, startled. What had she said? She’d made the comment lightly, in jest. But he was reacting as if she’d just accused him of killing someone…and he was guilty as hell of the crime.

“What?” she asked.

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