by Jael Wye
He shut up and concentrated on his cutting. Down her throat, between her breasts, over her flat belly. The suit parted in a long line down her body, revealing the liner she wore underneath. It seemed to him that her skin almost glowed, pure and pale underneath the translucent sheath.
Cesare was by no means shy. He had been living in close quarters with every type of man and woman imaginable since he was fourteen, and had quickly learned to view human bodies of any shape, color, or size with perfect equanimity. But now, seeing just this veiled hint of Bianca’s lithe curves, he found himself blushing like a bloody kit.
He stopped cutting just above her pelvis and lowered the cutter, swallowing hard. “That should do it,” he said roughly. He tore his gaze away from the creamy skin so close to his touch, and looked up into her face. Her eyes were wide and dark, shimmering with something he couldn’t put a name to.
She dropped her gaze, biting her red lower lip with her little teeth. “So,” she said eventually. “Should I do you, now?”
He stared. “Uh. What?”
“Your suit,” she said, her voice a low tremble. She gestured to his carbon suit, as slack and dead as her own, and just as contaminated, he realized. “I should cut off your suit for you. Collars can be tricky.”
“Collars. Right.” He relinquished the minicutter to her, and sat next to her on the edge of the cot.
She knelt up and moved close to him, taking the collar of his suit in her soft fingers. “How did the virus get into your suit?” she said. She began to cut.
He took a deep breath, trying to slow his suddenly racing pulse. “I had to jack my cuffs into your door in order to get it open. It must have passed through there.”
“I never thought I would be so happy to know someone who can jack rovers,” she murmured. She bent over her work. The edges of her suit gaped open, and he caught sight of the shadowed curves of her breasts. Her breath was a delicate warmth on his throat and chest as she opened up his suit. The minicutter buzzed lower, down over his chest to his abdomen.
He was suddenly, ferociously hard. The violence of emotion and the frustration of the past hours, the past weeks—it all focused laser-like on the place her slender hand rested high on his stomach.
“Bianca,” he said, almost a groan, as her soft hair brushed along his jaw. He clenched his hands on the edge of the cot beneath him to keep from reaching out and grabbing her to him.
She froze, sensing the change in him. She eased back cautiously, as if she were afraid of making any sudden movements. He could see the color flushing up her slender throat, hear her sudden little intake of breath.
They both went still and quiet for a long moment.
She clutched the edges of her suit back together. “It must be very late,” she whispered. “I...we should start back for the hab.”
She pushed herself up off the cot, and turned toward the door, hiding her face behind a curl of black hair.
Cesare acted on pure instinct. Before she could open the door, he was there behind her, caging her in, one hand covering the door control panel, the other arm braced above her head. She went perfectly still. He could almost hear their hearts thundering in the silence. He bent his head toward the delicate curve of her ear and said, his voice rough, “Don’t run away from me again.”
Slowly, she turned in his arms, until her back was against the door. Her soft lips parted just a few centimeters from his. “Cesare,” she said, her voice shivering. “I love it...when you catch me.”
* * *
At her confession, Cesare’s eyes flashed hot. In an instant he was kissing her fiercely, crushing his mouth against hers. She was lost. Her body began to flow with a living fire, her bones melting, her whole being shot through with bolts of pleasure.
He thrust his tongue over hers, and she gasped out a little cry. He lifted her by her waist and held her pinned against the door with his body. She could feel the rigid muscles in his abdomen against her, could feel the broad curve of his erection through his ruined carbon suit, pressing against her thighs. Her hands flew to his arms, feeling their corded strength as he held her.
She wanted to be naked with him. She thought she might go wild if she could not touch the firm, golden skin she knew was underneath his c-suit. She grappled with his clothing, pushing it off his broad shoulders, sliding her fingers underneath it, down to his tight hips.
He pulled aside her suit, then his big hand closed over her breast, his callused thumb scraping over the tip through her liner.
She cried out softly against his mouth, shaking under the force of the desire he called in her. He spun her around toward the cot, and they slid down, half on and half off of it, devouring each other with kisses. He reared up and peeled his suit and liner off with quick impatient movements. His smooth bronze-skinned arms were sleek with muscle as he braced himself above her. Her fingers curled on his shoulders as she kissed him and kissed him, running her hands over him, until his breath was coming ragged against her lips.
He fisted his hands in the two halves of her suit and ripped it down her arms and off her body. He stood to pull it off her legs, then watched, breathing hard, as she wriggled out of her liner. Finally free of her clothing, she leaned up and ran her fingertips over his hard, perfect body. The muscles of his chest and shoulders were taut, shivering under her touch. She let her hands drift lower, leaned forward and brushed her lips over the ridges of his stomach.
“Ciel, what are you doing to me?” he groaned.
She threw her head back, looking up into his beautiful face. “I want to do everything to you,” she said. His rod jutted before her in a thick column, as gorgeous as the rest of him. Before she could touch it, he came down on the cot and effortlessly pulled her half under him. His strength excited her so much she could hardly bear it.
At last, she lay with him, skin against skin. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed herself against him, feeling the heat of his skin, the slick head of his sex as it thrust against her thighs. He clutched her hips, his fingers kneading her buttocks, and he bent his head to drag his tongue over her nipple.
She heard herself pant his name.
Cesare let out a low sound against her breast. “Bianca, I can’t—I can’t wait—” he said, desperation in his voice.
“I’m ready,” she whispered. She had never been so ready in her life. He raised his head to look at her, his eyes gone dark with his passion. Her lips trembled in a smile for him, and she moved her leg over his hip, opening herself, letting his broad head slide into her wetness, letting him feel how much she needed him. He didn’t hold back another second. He thrust into her with a harsh gasp, and she bowed up with the pleasure of having him inside her.
He began to surge over her, into her, again and again, each stroke making her twist against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, clutched his arms, dug her nails into the ridges of his back.
“Wanted to drill you since the minute I saw you,” he growled down at her. His body rippled as he thrust into her, his cheekbones stark with desire.
“Yes!” she cried. He braced a foot on the floor and leaned up on one arm, shoving in deep. He stroked the hot tab at the top of her sex rolling it under his strong, callused fingers.
It was too much. The orgasm struck her like lightning, every cell in her body blazing up for him. Helpless, she rode the sensation that pierced her, clutching him to her with limbs trembling and racked with an agony of pleasure.
* * *
He felt her slender body ripple around him, heard her shocked cry of delight, and it was over. He drove into the shivering heat of her body once, twice, and he began to jack as hard as he ever had in his life. He heard himself groan as the ferocious pleasure tore out of him, shaking him.
“Ciel,” he breathed as the tremors finally began to still. He dropped his head into the soft curve of her
neck. “Heaven,” he murmured against her sweet skin.
She clutched him, her small fingers on his shoulders, her ankles curled over his buttocks as he lay still wedged inside her. “Incredible,” she breathed. She wove trembling fingers through his hair. He drifted for a moment, her heat close around him.
After an endless time, she sighed and shifted softly beneath him. He levered himself above her, looked down on her beauty. So much beauty it rocked him. Her skin so pure and perfect, her hair so silky and fine. Passion glowed red in her cheeks, the tips of her breasts. Her eyes were closed.
How had he ever found a woman like this one, he wondered. There was no one in all the Sol like her. He carefully brushed a shining strand of hair off her cheek. Her lips parted on a small sigh.
“Bianca...” he trailed off, suddenly uncertain. She must be utterly exhausted. She had been through so much in the last few days, and now, this fast, almost violent coupling... It was enough to dust anyone.
But, Heaven help him, he didn’t want to stop. He wanted more of her. More of her smooth skin and little moans, more of the trembling delight of her sweet female flesh. He was already getting hard again inside her.
You’re cracked, you selfish fei ren, he told himself. He clamped down hard on his lower instincts and started to withdraw from the clinging heat of her. Then her lashes lifted, and she met his eyes.
Slowly, she spread her knees wide for him, reaching down to grasp his hips. She arched up beneath him. “More,” she said, her voice low and sweet. He heard her with an almost savage thrill that burned away all doubt.
“Feck, ay!” he groaned, and he thrust into her again, nearly out of his mind with the sensation her yin taking him in a hot, silky grip. She slid her hands up over his sides and grazed her nails over his nipples, making him hiss. She bowed up to meet his thrusts, almost sobbing with the pleasure he was giving her.
With a twist of his body, he reversed their positions, so that he lay on his back, his knees bent, thrusting up into her where she straddled him.
She arched her back above him, still breathing her little cries, and he palmed her round breasts. He gasped when he felt her soft fingers between his legs, tracing the base of his rod, cupping his stones. She swiveled her hips down on him as he lunged up into her. He could feel his orgasm building again already. He ground his teeth, trying to hold on, looking down his body to where her sex clasped his rod as he surged in and out of her. Her tab was a little jewel amid her smooth folds. He ran his thumb over it, groaning to feel its ripeness. She cried out at his touch, a soft, helpless sound, and he felt her coil tight above him, her climax building and building as she rode him, holding nothing of herself back.
He clenched her hip in his other hand and shoved hard into her, and she broke above him, snapping forward to clutch his shoulders, shivering and crying out his name. The quake of her orgasm swept along the length of his rod as he kept thrusting in and out of her. He pumped his hips faster, an unbearable pleasure spiking through him. She cried out, “Cesare,” and hot bliss detonated once more, the shockwaves of it rushing through every vein, scorching every nerve. She kissed him fiercely, taking his groan on her soft lips, taking the jack he poured into her, taking everything he had to give.
* * *
Bianca drifted out of a dreamless sleep, near to waking, but not ready just yet.
In this timeless half-state, she could simply savor the aching satisfaction in her body. But when she opened her eyes, she knew, she would come face to face with a whole series of calamities. Political intrigue. Assassination attempts. Cesare.
Where was Cesare, anyway?
He wasn’t lying next to her on the cot where they had both collapsed after they had finished...um. She didn’t sense him in the chamber with her either. He must have gone back into the rover.
How long had she been asleep? Long enough. Time to face the world. She opened her eyes and sat up, rubbing her face. Slowly she looked around, trying hard not to think about anything in particular. Outside the viewports, the morning sun glinted off the tumbled ice of the reservoir. The water station was at the opposite end of the ice lake from the dam where Cesare had taken her for their catastrophic date/pipeline inspection. It would take some time to get back to the hab from here.
She got up and stumbled to the station’s small lav where she found a tiny evac and minicleanser. No mirror. Just as well. She probably didn’t want to see what she looked like this morning. She felt positively saturated with sweat and dust.
When she came out, she saw her used liner draped over a nearby console. Usually she tossed her liners in the recyc at the end of each day. But now it looked like this was all she had to wear. Her ruined c-suit was nowhere to be seen.
Slowly she pulled on the nearly translucent body sheath and looked down. Parading around in nothing but a scrap of silvery gauze was a bit too fashion forward for her tastes, she decided.
Ah well, no one was out there to see her but Cesare, and he had already seen it all, hadn’t he. She straightened her shoulders and moved toward the lock.
She touched open the door, and was proud that her fingers only trembled a little bit.
“We’ll meet you there in about four hours.” She heard Cesare’s voice rumbling from the cab. She turned to look, and there he was, the man who had saved her life, and then gave her the best sex she had ever had or imagined. His dark head was bent over the console. He was dressed in a mars-suit, she saw.
“Ay,” said another voice. “I’ll see you then.”
Cesare ended the com, and turned slowly toward where she was standing in the doorway. The instant he caught sight of her, he turned all the way around, staring at her liner. Or rather, what her liner was completely failing to cover. She resisted the urge to cringe in embarrassment. But, Ciel, the look he was giving her felt like it could sear her flesh off her bones. She wanted to run to him. Or maybe run in the other direction and hide.
“Ni hao,” she managed to say.
He seemed to shake himself slightly. “How are you feeling?” he said.
“Fine. I feel...fine.”
“Here,” he said, picking up another mars-suit lying on the seat next to him. He held it out to her, his eyes averted. “You might want to put this on.”
“Thank you,” Bianca said cautiously. She took the suit from his outstretched hand.
He turned back to the console abruptly. “I had to pack away our suits and cuffs. I couldn’t risk getting them too close to the rover interfaces,” he said.
“I understand,” she said.
“And I saved your suit pouches, in case there was anything in them that you wanted.” He gestured to the passenger seat next to him where her pouches were lying in a little heap. She didn’t have much in them. Just some odds and ends. And her little diamond.
“Thanks,” she said. She quickly drew the m-suit over herself. “What time is it?”
“About eight.”
Her fingers paused over the micron seals. She had been out several hours. Well, total exhaustion and cataclysmic sex will do that to you. She finished up her seals and moved to sit in the passenger seat, grabbing her pouches and stuffing them inside her m-suit’s specimen pouch before she sat down to fasten up her boots.
She still felt loose and deliciously sore from this man’s body surging over her, into her. And she owed him her life.
She didn’t have the slightest idea what to say.
Neither did he, it seemed. One of the most awkward silences Bianca had ever had to endure began to stretch, and stretch...
“That was my brother Michelangelo, just now, on the com,” Cesare finally said. “He’s flying out to pick us up in his orbital plane. We’ll meet up at the hab this afternoon.”
Bianca nodded slightly. “And then what?”
“And then we go to Pavonis, if we want to make our
move against Victoria before this Eris party.”
“We?” She turned in her seat to face him. “So, you’re coming with me?” Something warm and bright ignited in her chest.
Cesare frowned at her. “Of course. Don’t tell me you were planning to run off on your own again.” A strange, tense note crept into his voice.
“No! It’s just...I thought you had other priorities. Isn’t there still a lot of RedIce business you need to take care of here, or at Anderson?”
He shook his head. “The cleanup bots are running on automatic now. The Earthers have already left. They’re going to lie low in Tharsis for a while.”
She nodded uncertainly, knowing it was smart for them to vanish but worried for them anyway. They had plenty of experience keeping themselves safe, she told herself. Surely they’d be all right until she and Cesare could contact them.
He continued, “As for the rest of my RedIce business, I figure helping you is the best way to help RedIce right now. I get you your company back, you get me mine.”
Her good feeling dimmed. Of course. That made sense. He was throwing his lot in with her for the sake of his company.
Well, what had she hoped he would say? “I would follow you to the end of the Sol, because I can’t live without you,” or some such rot, no doubt. All right. It was time to shove aside her own emotional stupidity and act like a chief executive.
She summoned up a smile. “You’re right. Once I have control of StarLine, I can make sure you get your company back. And I will. You’ve convinced me that’s the right thing to do.” She added, a little wryly, “Just like you planned all along.”
“Spacebabe, when it comes to you, nothing turns out the way I plan.” He ran his hands through his hair, mussing the dark strands. Then he looked over at her, his expression indecipherable.
“Ay, chaos does have a way of following me around lately,” she murmured. Lucky for her that Cesare had been following her around too.
Actually, she was incredibly lucky that Cesare was going with her, she realized. It was an intense relief to be facing the coming fight with someone she could trust. And she knew she could trust him implicitly. He was a natural born fighter, and a man of honor, as he had proved again and again. Just like the Earthers, and everyone else he took responsibility for, she knew she was safe with Cesare.