Page 87 of Fighting Gravity
I rose up on my toes, hands gripping Rhone’s face, and I pressed my lips to his, stealing his words. The feeling was exhilarating. My pulse fluttered out of control when I realized what I was doing. I was kissing him.
But he wasn’t kissing me back. Did aliens do that? Didgekdo that? I wanted to keep going, but the feeling of rejection pushed me away. I drew back, looking up into Rhone’s gold-flecked eyes, and for the first time since we’d met, he looked dumbstruck.
Shit.
What did that mean?
For an awkwardly long time, we stared at each other. I was preparing to fight my way out of the situation, but when I tried to move away, Rhone gripped my hair tighter, his other hand cupping the side of my neck. He pulled my face toward his, forcing me to push up on my toes again, and crushed his lips to mine.
And it wasn’t his first kiss. It wasn’t clumsy or hesitant. It was deep, hard, and hungry. He’d definitely kissed before. I sucked in a hard breath and clawed at the tight, leathery material of his shirt trying to balance. When I felt his tongue press to the seam of my lips, I parted for him with a moan and welcomed him into my mouth. That metal stud explored my mouth and I trembled at the thought of it exploring more of me.
Desire burned in my chest and it was beginning to spread to the rest of me. Every second of our kiss made me hungrier for the rest of Rhone. And when I was hungry, I had a hard time keeping it at bay. Before I knew it, I was biting down on Rhone’s lower lip. The low growl that rumbled from his throat let me know he liked it, though.
I drew back, out of breath. Rhone stepped into me, forcing me to back up, and then slid his hands down the curves of my body to my ass. With one heave, he lifted me off the floor and my legs instinctively wrapped around his hips. We were kissing again as Rhone walked me over to the captain’s chair and lowered me onto the large seat. He wasted no time in pulling off my boots and tossing them. Then he was undoing my pants and in a swift motion, he hooked the waistband and tugged them down. I slid forward on the chair as his hands trailed back up my legs, tossing my thighs apart. His warm lips traced my hip across to the small patch of curls between my legs, his tongue drawing small circles against my skin. Rhone was kneeling before me, tasting me and breathing me in like I was a drug.
“You are a riddle, Quinn,” Rhone rasped, his lips working their way to my stomach and up further as he nudged my shirt off my body. “And it’s driving me mad.You’redriving me mad.”
“You think you’re not ripping into my emotions, too?” I breathed, rolling my hips toward him. “I’m supposed to hate you. I’m really trying to.”
His eyes lifted, hooded and sultry, and that sexy smirk slanted his lips. He pushed my shirt off my breasts, letting them bounce free and, still looking at me, his pierced tongue slid out of his mouth and brushed over one nipple. It puckered immediately and he sucked it into his mouth as he fondled my other breast with his hand. I closed my eyes, savoring the uncharacteristically gentle affections.
And then the Rhone I knew emerged from the tender façade and he gripped both of my hands, lifting them over my head. He surged over me, face close to mine as he folded my fingers over the back of the chair.
“Do not let go,” he whispered gruffly. “Or I will stop.”
Those words were electrifying. I bit my lip to keep from moaning just from the sound of his voice. Sliding back down my body, Rhone planted himself between my legs, tugging me to the very edge of the seat before he tossed them over his broad shoulders.
I watched his head dip. Felt his hot breath on my pussy. But nothing prepared me for the feeling of his lips on me like that. I closed my eyes, arching against him as his tongue moved up my seam and flicked my clit. The metal stud sent hot shivers through me and I twitched, which made Rhone hum with satisfaction. His Thel was so euphoric at that point. I could feel it in my bones. In my blood. I whimpered, gripping the back of the seat as he swirled his tongue.
More,I thought.
As if he could read my mind, Rhone’s tongue ventured downward, probing my entrance. His thumb took up gentle circles on my clit as he delved deep inside, his piercing making every stroke so noticeable.
“Fuck,” I sighed.
Rhone’s quiet chuckle just made me wild with need. His tongue worked in and out of me, his thumb continuing to stroke me closer to release. And just as my body was adapting to the tempo, he withdrew his tongue and replaced it with two of his fingers. I jumped at the sudden stretch, lifting my head to look down at the top of his head between my legs.
Why was that sight so damn hot?
Tongue stroking my clit again, Rhone pumped his fingers inside me. The feeling was wet and crude and wonderful. My release tiptoed on the edge of my reach and just when I thought I would shatter, he turned his head to my inner thigh and bit down on the tender flesh. The pinch of his teeth brought me out of my stupor. I gasped, my body jolting with surprise, which made Rhone chuckle again.
“Not yet, peveri,” he said.
He began to work me toward a climax again, torturing me by keeping the edge just barely out of reach until finally I yielded.
I released the back of the chair. Rhone straightened before me, licking his lips. I knew he wanted to mock me for letting go after he told me not to, but I was too desperate to play his game. I took his face between my hands and sat up.
“You let go,” he said.
I shook my head. “I want you inside me. All of you,” I breathed. He opened his mouth to speak and I shook my head again. “Shut up.” I slid off the chair, nudging him back so he was sitting and I was straddling his lap. Rolling my hips forward to feel his hard length between my legs, I said, “Just fuck me, Rhone.” I reached down, and tugged at the clasp on his leathers, searching for his thick cock with my hands. “I want you to fill me.”
He groaned, his hands gripping my hips. I could hear his breath deepening as I slid my hand into his breaches and cupped his length.
I paused, shivering against him. His fucking me from behind had prevented me from truly appreciating the details of his cock, but that moment was different. In its aroused state, the green faded to a smoky purple at the end. His shaft was covered in striations with a line of wave-like scales along the top leading to a fat head. But they were pliable and soft. That was the first time I noticed that his cock was pierced, too. There was a bar sitting at the top of his length, the blunt ends small and round against my fingertips.
“What’s the meaning of this one?” I panted.
“Means I’ve sired children. Means I can use my cock however I want without shame because its purpose has been fulfilled.”
