Page 153 of Seven Oars
The dark, electric feeling in her lower belly spread, catching her entire body in its unescapable net.
Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he walked her back, pushing her against the door. Kicking her legs apart, he cupped her, his fingers slipping inside her waistband, going lower until he reached her wet folds.
She moaned then, caught in the pleasure of his touch.
The pads of his fingers moved back and forth, wrenching a moan from her. He lifted his head briefly, and he gave her his heart-stopping smile.
Her heart pounded as he wrenched her pants off and lifted her, forcing her thighs apart, his weight grinding into her.
She felt him undo his belt with one hand, and when he next flexed his hips against her, felt the length of him spring free, hard, long, and also slick. She gasped when he rubbed against her.
Her inner thighs began to tingle.
Fincros’body tensed, that enticing male energy rolling off him unchecked. He licked inside her mouth, blatantly carnal.
“Easy, don’t clench now,” he ground out.
On the next go, he pushed in—strong and sure and all the way.
Rosamma stifled a cry, adjusting to the sensations of being so thoroughly impaled. It hurt, her first time, despite the ample wetness. She could feel him sheathed to the hilt. He pulled out and slid it back in, caressing her from the inside. It was new, and marvelous, and so intimate tears sprang to her eyes.
His shoulder muscles went rock hard, and the ropey veins popped under the skin. She traced one vein with her finger in abject wonder.
He groaned.“Stay with me.”
Gripping her braid with his other hand, he slammed his mouth over hers. She responded, helpless in this vortex of feelings and sensations, lost in the taste of him, saturated with the musky smell that was uniquely his.
He gave a hoarse grunt as he came, and she felt him throbbing. Then he pushed in one last time, then went still.
His kiss changed, becoming gentle.The hand clenching her braid relaxed.
Rosamma felt foreign inside her skin.
There was pain and discomfort, and she wished Fincros would return her body to her. Yet, she was flushed and filled with a shivering need to continue.
Gradually, he stopped invading her mouth.
He nibbled at the corners of her lips before lifting his head. His body pulled his member out of her and tucked it inside him, like the Rix Mother Nature designed.
Rosamma unwrapped her legs from his hips and lowered them until the soles of her feet touched the metal mesh of the floor. She held on to Fincros’shoulders for support as he re-buckled his belt.
He was now fully dressed and probably armed, flat-eyed and expressionless.
And she stood there naked, smelling of him and still feeling the phantom thrusts of his body inside.
They didn’t speak.
Gingerly, she raised her hand and touched his beautiful, silky hair.
He dipped his head to make it easier for her to reach.
The moment stretched as they stayed like this, with the remnants of the spent passion still humming between them, exposed to the view of the indifferent Universe. Tiny, insignificant beings in the cold vastness of space. Smaller than grains of sand in the desert.
“You’ve been ignoring all my orders,” he chided her softly.
“What is it?”
She stared at him intently, his face blurring before her eyes. She felt very faint and weak as a kitten.
