Page 78 of Rebel Fates

My body arches as if I could escape the insanity that is my mortal vessel.

I need him. I feel like I might die without him. Panicking, I feel like I can’t breathe and I gasp for air. “Help! Please.”

Crax falls to my side and examines my eyes and then pulls a handheld tablet from his suit. “You are having trouble breathing?” he asks with concern.

I nod.

“That makes no sense.”

“Touch me again,” I whine. His touch alleviates some of my body’s stress.

I hear a whispered curse. But then his hand reaches out to me, stroking down the side of my face. It’s more gentle than I desire, and it’s less contact than I need.

“More!” I demand, and I’m surprised by my aggressive tone.

His hand responds by clasping around the back of my neck and fisting a handful of my hair. My body reacts to the touch as if it’s a mating dance.

“Is this what you need, Gemma?”

“Yes, more,” I beg.

My panting evens out, but sounds more desperate for attention. I reach toward him and my hand lands on his thigh.

He glances down, and I can almost hear him wondering if he should remove it.

My other hand moves between my legs, but I whimper when it does little to help me. I needhishand. Or something else to slide inside of me.

“Crax,” I moan and buck my hips toward him. Only an idiot wouldn’t know what I wanted. And he isn’t an idiot.

His other hand slides down my body, and I mewl gratefully. His gloved fingers find my center and massage my drenched pussy.

I buck my hips again, trying to force him to enter me.

“I worry my touch won’t be enough for you.”

“I won’t be angry if you try,” I promise. “I need you. I feel like I might die if you don’t—”

His thick fingers sink into my channel and cut off my words.

“Yes.” The strange pressure is somewhat relieved. But then another kind of pressure that I’m more familiar with builds as he slips in and out of me. “Don’t stop.”

The tension of his hand on the back of my neck tightens. My body bows with sexual tension. Pinned down by his strong hands, I strangely feel safe and in complete danger all at once.

And I only want more—his body on top of mine. I need his cock inside me, filling me up.

But for now, his fingers feel like a lifeline.

Tingling along my spine, the sense of a wave building warns me I’m close to an orgasm. Crax adds a third finger, and he curls them toward my g-spot.

I unravel.

I grab his arm as if I’m falling out of the sky, seeing stars, and shudder through my release.

However, as soon as he slips his hand free, my senses come alive again.

I need more. I spring forward before he can move away, and I wrap my legs around him.

“Gemma, I shouldn’t. I can’t,” he hisses. But do I sense he wants to? Or am I only an experiment to him?

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