Page 78 of Hope Forged
Once the door sealed, he abandoned her and marched to the replicator. After rapid taps, stacks of garments formed. He shoved them aside. Two helmets materialized before he faced her.
“She loves him.” Ziamee nibbled on her lip, not wanting to go into depth but curious about his thoughts.
He grunted. “To be fair, she is his dhutya.”
He peeled off his tunic, exposing his torso to her admiring gaze. Her heart leaped into her throat. Off went his boots and pants until he stood before her in all his magnificent nakedness. Angles? Yeah, he was that and more, all muscle, his skin glowing a deep blue. He covered up by donning a suit and ruining herview. Although, it clung to him, accentuating his body, painting him as a predator—restrained power.
He gathered his hair, watching her as he braided it, and let it drape down his back.
“Want my help?” He stared at her when she stayed silent, then slowly, bit by bit, inched her garments off until she, too, was bare.
Yet she tingled from the slight dusting of his fingers down her arms. The heat of his hands at her waist ramped up the sensation. Worsened by the gentle nudge of his knuckles when he parted her knees to remove her boots and shimmy her pants over her hips.
Tension thickened the air, pressing on her lungs. No words were needed, not when his eyes burned with desire and his breathing labored.
“Come,” he rasped. “Slip one foot in here.” He held open a pant leg.
She had to grip his shoulder for balance but did as he instructed. This exposed her sex to him, even briefly.
His muscles bunched under her fingers, but she assumed it was from when he shook out the other pant leg. He waited for her to step into it. She switched shoulders to maintain balance as he glided the suit up and over her ass.
Next was each arm, his warmth pouring off him when he crowded her. He stepped back to admire the fit, no doubt. Then circled her to tuck her hair into the back of the suit.
“The Etterians designed these to cater for their long braids.”
She appreciated the info but didn’t really want to know. To be honest, she couldn’t drag her attention from where he touched her. Her body pulsed with lust as if he hadn’t just, that day, given her incredible pleasure.
Hot lips on her neck snapped her head to the side, granting him access. A moan slipped out, but she didn’t care. Not whenheat rippled down to her nipples. They shriveled until they were taut and aching. He dipped his fingers into the suit’s opening and parted it, bending to suck a nipple into his mouth.
She whimpered, drowning in a swath of electric joy. Her knees quaked, forcing her to grab onto him with both hands, worried that she’d collapse at his feet. She arched into him, craving his next move, maybe across to her neglected breast. He slashed his mouth over hers, taking her by surprise. Her breath caught, and she dug her fingers into his upper arms.
A tickle froze her. She became aware of him trailing his fingers over her belly, making it flutter. He didn’t linger on his way down to the juncture of her thighs. Everything within her waited, her body on high alert, her sex twanging in anticipation. A lifetime passed, too slow in her moment of desperate need. And when he stroked her, a thousand lights sparkled across her vision.
With his tongue, he smothered each sound she made, all while rubbing a fulfillment out of her. A swirl, a flick, a pinch, a caress, and repeat, summoning such exquisite delight that when she splintered, she went from buzzing to exploding. No climb toward the pinnacle but a pummeling of her senses until her body gave him whatever he demanded.
He leaned back and fastened her suit shut, going around her to check that her hair was still out of the way. “Boots,” he growled, and only then did she catch the tremble in his hands.
“But—”
“Let me fetch the helmets.” He swiveled to do just that.
His warmth snatched away bathed her in a chill. Maybe later, he’d find his pleasure? She couldn’t be sure, nor could she stop her shoulders from slumping with disappointment. A chance to reciprocate had been denied her.
“Ready?” He stood before her, a helmet tucked under an arm, the other gripped in his hands.
“Yeah,” she said, then paused. “Wait,” she said, tossing aside her discarded garments for her weapons.
She strapped on the blaster and eyed the dagger and med-gun forlornly. The suit didn’t look like it had pockets, and the dagger might slip out of her boot and float away. The station didn’t have an atmosphere, which meant no gravity and air.
She took the helmet from Illan, then offered to hold his, in case he, too, wanted to arm himself. He didn’t hesitate, letting her take his while he fastened the holster to his thigh and slipped the blaster in place.
A thunk and the jerking of the ship told her they were out of time.
He knelt, and a suction tightened her boots to her legs. In a smooth arc of movement, he took her helmet from her and placed it on her head, tapping the top until it sat snugly.
“Any shifting?” He looked left then right.
She mimicked him. “Good,” she said, her voice coming back to her.
