respond in ways she had never responded to anyone else.
She didn’t think she could get more aroused, and yet she was. She wanted him now.
She leaned back just a little, undid his pants, and grabbed him. He was large and warm and ready.
So was she.
“Let me loose,” he said, his mouth against hers.
“Not yet,” she said.
She rose on her knees, undid her own pants, then stepped off him for just a moment as she kicked her pants away. She left her shirt on—she was in too much of a hurry to take it off—and then she lowered herself on him.
Slowly.
He strained upward, but the harness held him in place. She only sank onto the tip of his penis, moving up and down, feeling him at the edges of her, little ripples of pleasure shooting through her.
“Skye…”
She didn’t want him to beg, but she wanted him past ready.
“Skye, if you continue this, I can’t…”
He couldn’t finish a sentence, that’s what he couldn’t do. That was okay. She doubted she could even communicate. His hands remained on her breasts, but squeezed tighter as he became more and more aroused.
She lowered just a bit farther down, taking him halfway, and did the same thing. Up, down, feeling him inside her then at the edges, those ripples continuing.
“Skye, dammit…”
She focused on him, on her, on fractions of an inch, and the differences that made. In, out, forward, back, just a little, as she found new ways to torture them both.
“Skye, really… I… ah, hell.”
He grabbed her hips and pushed them downward. She felt him slide all the way into her, and it was so magical that her entire body erupted. She tilted her head back, feeling the orgasm pulse through her.
Hers had nearly ended when she felt his surge into her, and she joined him again.
Then she leaned forward, spent and damp and breathless.
“My God,” she said. “I didn’t even look at the scenery.”
“You’re disappointed,” he said against her shoulder.
“Hell, no,” she said. “I just figure we’re going to need to try this again.”
“Only if you let me out of this chair,” he said.
She smiled, even though he couldn’t see it.
“My pleasure,” she said.
Chapter 21
Repeating the marathon session from the night before simply wasn’t possible. Their bodies wouldn’t cooperate. Skye knew of assassins who had gotten enhancements so that the pleasure could continue over days, but she didn’t have one, and judging from the look on Jack’s face, he didn’t have one either.
He was sprawled on the floor of the cockpit, his clothes gone. Somewhere along the way, he or she or both of them had removed her shirt as well. She was curled alongside him, facing him, the stars and blackness of space around them like a hug.
She loved that.
They had managed one more round, slower, not nearly as electric as that moment in the chair, but pleasurable just the same.
She had no idea how long they’d lost themselves in each other. It felt like days.
It had probably been an hour or less.
She didn’t want to move, but she knew she had to. She sat up slowly, her hair falling across her face. She had no idea that a wedge haircut could get messy, but this one had.
She ran her fingers through it.
“Don’t,” Jack muttered.
“Don’t what?” she asked.
“Do that,” he said. “It makes your breasts move, and shows how lovely the line of your neck is, and damned if that’s not getting a response.”
She looked down. His penis was growing again.
“I’m going to have to stand up,” she said. “I’m not responsible for your response.”
“Oh, yes, you are. I’ve never been like this.” Then he blinked. “Except, you know, puberty and adolescence. But that was different. I could think the word ‘breast’ and I’d need tissues.”
She chuckled. “Now you just have to look at one.”
“At yours,” he corrected. “And your neck, your back, your waist… ah, hell.”
He was hard. She stroked him, and he twitched. Hard and sensitive.
“I think we both need a rest,” she said.
“No kidding,” he said.
“But not on the cockpit floor,” she said.
“You are unkind.” He sat up, looked at his penis as if it weren’t part of him, and grinned. “Well, at least part of me has energy.”
She kissed her index finger, then touched the tip of it to his tip. It bobbed toward her in response. She laughed.
“It looks ready,” she said.
“Its owner needs either rest or nourishment or both,” he said.
“You own it?” she asked.
He grinned. “Well, I’m certainly not renting it.”
She laughed too, feeling better than she had in weeks, maybe years. When had she last been this happy? Had she ever been? She had no idea.
She stood up, and he moaned. “You’re killing me here,” he said.
It would kill her too if she continued using his body the way she wanted to. She had sore muscles and her knees ached. She couldn’t quite remember what she had done, and then she recalled that movement up and down while he was still in the chair.
Apparently, she had used thigh muscles she hadn’t used in years—maybe ever. And then there were the bruises on her knees.
She carried her clothes over one arm. “I’m going to see what kind of shower this place has,” she said.
He was sitting up, but one leg was raised, hiding that eager penis. He ran a hand through his hair as well, and it only served to make the strands stick up more.
“Not food?” he asked.
She glanced at the navigation map. They weren’t far from the Brezev System.
“Food eventually. But first, I think we need to be ready in case something happens,” she said.
“Something did happen. I got hit with your energy-sapping enthusiasm ray.”
She laughed again. “I mean something else,” she said, letting herself be serious. “We’re not too far away from the system boundaries. We’re going to have to be on guard.”
“For what?” he asked.
“For anything,” she said, and left the cockpit.
Chapter 22
