She paused and looked up at him again, her face a little worried, as if she didn’t know if he would approve. A tangle of words got bunched up on the end of his tongue, and all he could do was nod eagerly. Oh, he approved. Yes, he did.
She smiled, her lips returning to his hot skin. She found his nipple, as hard and erect as his straining shaft, and her tongue slid out, tasting the sensitive flesh around it.
He closed his eyes, nearly shuddering with pleasure—and restraint. He didn’t want to disturb her in any way, but when she took him in her mouth and sucked experimentally, it took tremendous control for him to keep his hands at his sides. Her fingers came up to rest on his waist, and his belly shivered. She kissed her way toward his other nipple, pausing at the crease between his muscles, licking up a drop of sweat beading down his chest. Seeing her sweet pink tongue brushing his skin made his eyes cross. His pelvis shifted toward her of its own accord. She took his other nipple in her mouth, sucking at it, laving it with her tongue. Eagerly. Was she… enjoying herself? It seemed presumptuous to think that, but she made pleased little noises as she attended to him, and her fingers started to knead his side.
“You taste good,” she murmured.
That admission sent blood surging through him, to all of his extremities, especially one. But his mind soared too. She was enjoying herself. His hand lifted, but he hesitated before touching her. He dearly wanted to stroke her face and other parts of her body, but would she mind?
Her teeth grazed his nipple, and he gasped, all thoughts fleeing his mind. The swelling in his trousers was growing painful. He lowered his hand to his waistband, wanting nothing more than to free himself and bury himself in her, but no, he wanted to make her night wonderful. To do that, he had to do more than stand there like, as Sergeant Hazel had said, a missile about to launch. But he was reacting so strongly to her touch already that his urgency made him selfish, made him think only of taking her. He didn’t want her to stop kissing him, but how could he handle her sweet explorations without exploding?
“I bet you taste good too,” Sergei rasped, his voice so hoarse he sounded like he had swallowed a bird. This wasn’t going to work—he was too hard and ready. “Jamie?” He caught her hands between his, forcing a gentleness to his grip. He wanted her to feel safe with him. He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them. “Do you want to be with me tonight?”
Some of the wide-eyed innocence left her face as she quirked an eyebrow at him. “Isn’t that what nipple kissing means?” Her playful candor faded and she added, “Do you… want me to be with you?”
“Oh, yes,” he said, then swallowed, trying to clear that hoarse lust from his throat. “But…”
“Are you afraid you’ll have trouble?”
Trouble? He would have no trouble whatsoever. He—
“Because of what happened before?” Jamie added. “With the… uhm, in the Fleet?”
“Oh. No. I mean, not with you.”
This time both of her brows rose. “Not with me? How can you be sure?”
“Because you’re sweet and nice, and I’m fairly certain you didn’t bring ropes, electric prods, and branding irons.” He didn’t want to talk about the past, not now, so he smiled and kissed her hands again, his fingers lingering on her knuckles as he watched her eyes for a reaction. He didn’t want her to be repelled or—worse—afraid that he would have some violent panic attack. Worrying her was the last thing he wanted. And he knew from experience that she wasn’t in danger of anything from him. “You wouldn’t even throw me,” he added, still smiling.
“Sergei,” she whispered, her eyes full of emotion. Not fear, but empathy.
Jamie leaned into him, against the bulge in his trousers, and he winced, not wanting to spear her, but she didn’t seem to notice. She rose up and kissed him on the lips this time, sweet and hot and beautiful all at once. And arousing. He kissed her back, sliding his tongue along her lips, the taste warm and salty from her explorations of his chest. Before he realized what he was doing, he slipped one of his hands around her back and pulled her closer, until her breasts pressed against him, the fabric of her shirt not hiding their swell, the peak of her nipples nudging him. Her lips parted for a breath or to utter some word, and his tongue dove in, hungry and eager, wanting to be in her. She drew back slightly. Startled?
Gulping, Sergei broke the kiss. She didn’t pull her chest away from him, but she did have an uncertain look. Too hard, too fast. He had to back off.
“Sorry,” he whispered, struggling to get his breath under control. He lifted a shaking hand to the side of her face and stroked his fingers down her smooth cheek. A hint of a smile returned to her face. “I’ve been on edge for the last week.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “What do you mean?”
She didn’t know? Truly?
“Wanting you,” Sergei confessed. He leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, fighting even now to not give in to his desires, hardly believing she was there, in his arms of her own volition. “In the spa… on the judo mat… in the shuttle… standing behind you on those sidewalks. Every time you’re near, and in my dreams at night even when you’re not.” He kept himself from going into details about what he did when he woke up from those dreams of her. He had probably already admitted too much, made her think he was some horny stalker. He risked opening his eyes to gauge her reaction.
“I wanted you in the spa,” she said.
He almost laughed, but his body was coiled too tight for that release of tension. “When you were drugged? Good to know.”
“You said the spice just took away one’s inhibitions.” She shrugged, her breasts moving against him, the fabric of her shirt rasping against his nipples. He was too on edge, as he’d said. Every little movement from her forced him to reach deep to summon control, to stay still, to not dive back into her. “I was very disappointed that you weren’t the one giving me that massage,” she added, smiling, unaware of his libidinous thoughts.
“I’d like to give you one. I’d also like to make your first…” He hesitated. She hadn’t told him, so he shouldn’t presume. “Is it your first time?”
This time she hesitated before whispering, “Yes. Is that all right? I know I’m not experienced, but just tell me what you like, and I’ll try it.”
Her earnest smile nearly undid him, or maybe it was the cascade of images that flashed through his mind at her offer.
“Good,” Sergei croaked, “but I want to make sure you like it too. Here.” With great reluctance, he separated himself from her enough to guide her to the bed. He sat on the edge beside her. He was tempted to ask her to stay there for a few minutes, while he ran down the corridor to the lavatory to take care of his needs, so he could more calmly attend to hers, but he was terrified she would regain her sanity at any moment and leave. Besides, he selfishly wanted her next to him, the heat of her body against his, the clean smell of her skin teasing his nostrils. He slid his hand to the clasp of his damnably tight trousers. “Do you mind if I take care of myself first?” he asked, watching her face, not certain if she would understand or be offended that he wanted to jerk off in front of her. He licked his lips. “Then we can—I can take my time and please you. Then later, we can both come together. If you want.” And he would make sure she did want it.
She slid her hand across the top of his thigh, and his groin twitched in response, straining toward her. She laid her hand on his, and he thought she might want to stop him.
But she smiled up at him, almost impishly. “Maybe I can help.”
“Oh, I have no doubt of that,” he whispered, aware of the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
She slid her finger down the seam of his fastener, and his penis sprang free, nudging at her hand as if it had a mind of its own. He snorted. It certainly had control of his mind at the moment. He watched Jamie’s face, not quite believing she wasn’t pulling away from him, scared or off-put. But she was looking from his chest to his crotch and, dare he hope, admiring everyth
ing? She lowered her head to his nipple and took him in her teeth again, flicking him with her tongue.
Sergei groaned and wrapped his hand around his straining shaft, so relieved for her permission to find release. More than that, her eagerness to help him filled him with such gratitude toward her that he couldn’t have expressed it if asked to.
He thought about digging out the lube in his bag, but he didn’t want to disturb her, not when his body was quivering with each suck and nip from her lips and teeth. Her hair fell across his chest, stirring a thousand delicious sensations. He slid his hand up and down his cock. It wouldn’t take long, not with his water so close to boiling already. But having her there, licking him and pausing to watch him, it made his whole body rejoice, and he found himself not wanting to hurry. He leaned back, his abdomen tensing to keep himself partially upright. He wanted to watch her and himself. He curled his free hand around the back of her head. His fingers tangled in her soft hair, and he massaged her scalp and neck, longing to let her know how pleased he was to have her there. Words were far too hard to manage.
She kept stroking his nipples, first one, then the other, her hair dusting his chest. As he worked himself, she sucked in rhythm with him. She made contented noises at his massage, and he felt their reverberations through her lips to his stimulated skin. Her hand slid across his belly, fingers brushing the wiry hair at the top of his groin, and the new sensation sent a fresh surge of blood to his cock. Her tongue ran between his pecs and down to the taut skin of his abdomen. She nipped at the ridges of muscle, and his hand paused as he wondered—dare he wonder?—if she might go lower with her mouth. Would she think to do so? Should he ask? She’d said to ask… No, he told himself. Save that for another time. Best to finish pleasuring himself, so he could do the same for her. Licking his chest couldn’t be that exciting.
He went back to stroking himself, with more urgency this time, the nips at his stomach muscles exquisite beyond measure. Then her hand drifted lower, brushing the back of his. Though urgency cried out for him to stroke faster, he paused again, not sure if she wanted to stroke him, too, or just touch him. The suggestion that she might take her licking and sucking lower gave him the willpower to hold still, for the moment. He kept massaging the back of her neck and resisted the urge to push her in that direction, though he couldn’t keep from pressing himself up to her, groaning at the feel of her lips against his hard body.
Jamie pushed his hand away, then shifted her weight, her chin brushing his hair, her lips traveling closer and closer to him. She cupped his scrotum with one hand, and he gulped, his ass coming off the bed as he arched toward her. When her pink tongue came out and slid over his engorged flesh, his eyes rolled up toward the ceiling. She followed his length to the tip, then licked at the drops poised there. She took her time. Teasing him? Or deciding if she liked the taste? She kissed and licked up and down his length, her light touches making him pant. He dropped both hands to the bed, gripping the edge of the mattress so hard, he was in danger of tearing pieces out.
“Jamie,” he groaned, unable to take the teasing any longer, no matter how good it felt.
She turned her head enough to meet his eyes, though she didn’t stop touching him. Her hand was wrapped around the base of his shaft now, and she kept flicking her tongue against his tip. Later he might appreciate that he was living out his fantasy of the last week, but all he could do now was growl, “Suck me.”
He had meant to request, to plead, not to growl and order, but it had the desired effect. She took him in her mouth, her moist lips following his curves, hugging him and fulfilling him far better than his hand ever could. His panting grew faster, his whole body shaking as she moved him deeper, then shallower, back and forth. His hips bucked toward her of their own accord, probably giving her more of him than she wanted, but she sucked eagerly at him, anyway. He thrust quicker, and she matched his pace. As the final build came, a surge of worry filled him—he didn’t want to burst all over her. He leaned to the side and grabbed his shirt.
“Stop,” he whispered hoarsely, touching her shoulder. “I’m coming.”
She sat up at the same time as he got the shirt around himself, an instant before he exploded into it. The release sent a shudder of pleasure through him, but the fact that Jamie was sitting next to him, her hand still on his bare thigh, made it all the more exquisite.
He couldn’t wait to come inside of her, to hear her groan with pleasure and call out his name. It might be a while before he was ready to come again, but as to the name part… he gave her a lazy smile. They could start with that anytime.
“Time to return the favor?” she whispered, her eyes bright with—he hoped that was anticipation.
“Oh, yes,” he breathed.
* * *
A shiver of eagerness filled Jamie as Sergei pushed the shirt aside and sat up. She waited impatiently as he tugged his trousers the rest of the way off, letting them drop to the floor. She laid a hand on his shoulder, running it down his back. It was as lean and hard as the front, and she looked forward to exploring it later. It was all she could do not to start kissing his chest again, running her lips along the groves and swells of his topography. She understood that he would be sated for a time, but she was wet and hot and almost wished he had rolled onto her instead of grabbing for the shirt.
He shifted to face her, his eyes intense, as they so often were, but his body was much more relaxed, none of that usual tension rolling off him. Tension, or was it lust? His admission that he had wanted her all week had surprised her, but excited her also. And some things made much more sense now, especially his quick moves away from her on the judo mat, usually followed with a pause for instruction while his arm was draped artfully over his lap.
Jamie grinned at him and shifted her weight, relishing the way the seam of her trousers rubbed her between her legs, but she wanted more than that. Maybe she should take her clothes off and toss them on the floor to join his. A hint of shyness made her hesitate.
Sergei didn’t object to her clothed state. He rested his hand on her hip as he leaned in to kiss her. She slid both of her arms around his waist, delighted to return to kissing, to all manner of touching. During their earlier kiss, he had thrust into her, his tongue hard and demanding. This time, he slid his tongue along her lips, not demanding anything, simply stroking her even as his hands roamed up her sides and back. Her flesh awakened to fire everywhere he touched. He sucked at her lower lip, eliciting a new sensation, one that sent rolling waves of warmth through her body.
She had stolen a few kisses with neighbor boys as a teenager, when her father hadn’t been lurking nearby, ready to drive them off. They had usually been sweet and shy, as her own had doubtlessly been. With Sergei, his kisses were those of a man, not of a boy. A man who knew how to keep noses from bashing, who knew how to breathe at the same time as he caressed her with his tongue, and who somehow knew how much fire roared into her furnace every time he grazed the inside of her lower lip with his teeth.
One of his hands came up to the back of her head again, his fingers raking through her hair and rubbing her scalp. He had been doing that before, nearly making her forget her desire to help him reach his climax, making her want to slip her own hand down into her trousers instead. She squirmed against that seam now, wanting to feel something hard down there, rubbing against her.
She kissed Sergei back, growing bold with need, sucking and biting his lip gently. Or maybe not so gently.
He paused for a moment, their faces an inch apart, and he searched her face. “You’re already aroused.” He sounded surprised. As if running her hands along his magnificent chest, kissing his sweat-salty skin, and having him gaze at her with burning adoration wouldn’t have moved her? It had been that gaze, his eyes, as much as anything that had her slick and ready.
“Yes,” Jamie whispered, in case his comment had been a question. “Does that not usually happen to women who are with you?”
“Well. One does hope for that result.
” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “It’s just that I haven’t done much yet.”
He continued to knead her scalp as they talked, his fingers strong and adept at finding the right points to melt her into a quivering mass of desire. She leaned her head back into his hand, savoring his deep, probing touch.
“Then I look forward to seeing what you have planned,” she whispered.
“Good.” Sergei kissed her exposed throat, leaning her back onto the bed as he did so, pausing to make sure her head rested on the pillow.
She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down with her, even as she pushed her fingers through his short, damp hair. He had been exercising, she remembered. They would have to shower together later. Even if the small cubicles on spaceships weren’t that spacious, she had heard interesting stories of shared adventures in them. She smiled, imagining Sergei’s naked backside on display in the lavatory, and one of her hands strayed in that direction, daring to give him a squeeze.
“Mm,” he murmured against her neck, pressing his body closer to hers.
He kissed his way back up to her lips, which she opened eagerly, having missed his mouth against hers, now that she knew the marvelous things it could do. A cool draft whispered across the bare flesh of her chest. Her shirt had fallen open somehow. She wasn’t sure when that had happened, but Sergei’s calloused palm slid across her stomach, warm in comparison to the cool air. He was an assassin, she reminded herself. Sneaking a shirt off should be a simple matter. She smiled against his lips, wondering what else he would do now that she lay exposed. Every part of her ached to be touched.
He continued to kiss her, stroking her tongue as his hand slid up her side, fingers brushing the outside curve of her breast. His lips left hers, and she grunted a protest, but they traced their way over to her ear, his short beard brushing against her soft skin. His hand came up to cup her breast, and he rubbed her erect nipple with his thumb. It tightened almost painfully in response to his touch, but it was a delicious pain, and she tilted toward him, wanting to give him full access. He sucked at her ear, then bit softly, and a new flame flared to life, adding its heat to the fire burning in her furnace. She shifted her legs, rubbing against that seam again, wondering if she might convince Sergei to send one of his hands down there to take over the rubbing. Not that she wasn’t enjoying those strokes to her breast…
Mandrake Company- The Complete Series Page 69