Lunar Lovers Read Online Free Page B

and dragged him
closer with a whimper.
    He smoothed his fingers over her hips, her thighs, then
slowed to outline the glossy slit between her legs.
    She moaned, her head falling back and thumping the hard
control panel. She wanted to shout at him to hurry the hells up but bit her lip
to stay silent.
    At last he licked the seam of her lips, kissing the heart of
her body. Their cries of enthusiasm harmonized, creating a lovers’ duet. She
released the panel and slid her hands over her breasts, down her belly, to
cradle his head. His short, prickly hair tickled her palms. The soft, smooth
press of his lips shattered her shyness.
    “Please,” she begged. “I need you.”
    He lifted his head, gave her a feral smile and then pounced.
He aggressively laved and sucked. First flattening his tongue, spreading her
wide for his licks. Then swirling and sucking. Then narrowing his tongue to
pierce her, thrusting in fast little stabs that started her pelvis rocking to
meet him.
    Her thighs hugged his head, holding him to her as she thrust
against his mouth, sighing and whimpering. Her body winding up and up.
    He clutched her thighs and spread her legs apart, giving him
room to engulf her completely. His tongue flicked at her sex, driving her high
fast. The intensity of what she felt frightened her. She sobbed her passion,
cried her fear.
    He released her legs and blindly found her hands to give a
reassuring squeeze.
    Tears prickled her eyes at his kind gesture.
    Achelle’s mother had passed on many lessons that she had
learned as a prostitute. But never once had she said or even alluded to the
possibility that the male might concern himself with the female’s feelings
during the sex act.
    His kindness gave credence to her odd trust in him…at least
where her body was concerned, because to say she was in good hands was an
understatement.
    He threaded his fingers through hers, still kneeling between
her legs, looking so large in comparison to her slight frame—his broad
shoulders supporting and extending her legs, his shaved head nodding over her
as lips pressed to lips.
    Almost there.
    Her body coiled. Pleasure ready to strike.
    Talented tongue against tingling folds.
    If not for his hands in hers, she wouldn’t have been able to
bear the shattering of her body when he broke her open and spilled her pleasure
into his mouth.
    “Samius!” she shouted.
     
    Her orgasm was ambrosia. Her voice an erotic cacophony of
whimpers and moans. And the sight of her body shuddering with ecstatic
spasms—indescribable.
    Samius stood and stripped her cheap, rough clothes from her
rich, languid body, revealing her belly and breasts, her hips and mound. All
beautiful to behold. All begging to be touched.
    Against his better judgment, his clothing joined hers in a
rumpled heap on the pilot’s chair while the autopilot flew the ship. They
weren’t going to make it home in time. Even if he could control his instinct to
couple—and it was important that he did—Achelle already showed signs of
discomfort once more, her muscles tensing, the heels of her hands pressing down
hard above her pelvic bone, the dreamy, satisfied look in her eyes turning
hard, reflecting her ache.
    “I-I think I’m sick.” She levered herself up on her
forearms. Her lower lip quivered as she blinked back tears. When she saw the
health pack sealed to the wall, she asked, “Do you have anything for cramps? I
think I caught a space bug at the station when I tripped over a trash bot.”
    “You’re not sick, Achelle. Medicine can’t help you.”
    Her exquisite celestial face crumpled, her wide-set eyes
searching his face for deception.
    “You need me inside you,” he said softly. “Use your inner
eye to examine your body and you’ll see that I’m right.”
    A wave of the coupling need
rolled over her and slammed into him. He took in a shallow, shaky breath and
fisted his hands to stop himself from taking her. He needed his brothers to
bear witness; he needed to wait