Page 58 of Star Champion

They plunged down to a cushion under a slatted roof that allowed peeks at the stars and the lights of the nearby building. His hard, wet body followed her downward.

“You were going towhat, beautiful Baréshti lass?” he whispered against her lips. Their uneven breaths mingled as he smoothed a hand over her hair, pushing it off her forehead, his gaze expectant as he gazed down at her. “Hmm?”

“I was…”

At that precise moment, he slid his hand between her thighs. Tremors of pleasure stole away her ability to think let alone form full words. His clever fingers moved over the thin fabric of her shorts to trace her inner curves. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and exactly how to do it. “You haven’t answered my question, Jemm.”

“I was gonna tell ya what I want ya to do to do me, and what I want to do to ya. But we both have too many clothes in the way.”

“Hmm. I can help with that.” He ran his thumb around the inside of the waistband of her shorts then rolled her onto her stomach. It left her feeling deliciously vulnerable. His lips were on the back of her bare neck now, well-placed kisses and the scrape of his teeth sending shivers down her spine. He kissed his way along the curve of her spine down to her tailbone; then he tugged off and discarded her shorts, exposing her bare bottom.

He came up on his knees behind her, looped a strong arm around her hips and lifted her to him. Her bottom pressed against his hard thighs as he moved her knees apart. His cool fingertips collided with the hot flesh between her bare thighs and set off an explosion of need. Moaning, on her knees, she arched her back and pushed backward—into him, into his caresses. Gripping the cushion beneath her hands, she clung to it as if it were the edge of a cliff. Klark took her to that edge, again and again, only to ease off and start the cadence all over again with his clever touch. His mouth traveled down the side of her throat, behind her ear, nuzzling the nape of her neck. All the while, he kept her flush against his body, his hold on her firm, possessive, as his fingers slipped inside and out. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

She muffled a cry as her body clenched deep inside. He held her until the pulsing waves of pleasure had subsided, then he eased her down to the cushion on her back. “Are you protected?” he asked, his accented voice low and adorably husky.

“Aye…” Breathless, she reached for him.

But first, he nimbly stripped off his shorts. Then her hands rode his to her tank top, and they pulled it off together, freeing her breasts. They were puckered and damp, and aching for his touch. A soft moan escaped her, and he had not yet touched her.

Sitting back on his haunches, he looked at her, all of her. Then he swallowed, his gaze merging with hers. “You’re perfect,” he said. “Strong, gorgeous, and perfect.” With their fingers laced tightly together, he bent down to lavish attention on her body.

Only after he had rendered Jemm breathless all over again did Klark seek more. She raised her hips to welcome him, her hands molding to his shoulders, her gaze caressing his face. In the cast-off light from outside the hut, her eyes were so luminous and green with desire that they shimmered like jewels. Her open, unguarded gaze and the candid emotions crossing her face made his chest tighten with emotions he could not name, because he had no experience with anything so intense.

As he slowly entered her, a look of pure bliss stole over her face. He pushed deeper, savoring every contour of her wet inner walls, every contraction of her muscles, learning her body in the most intimate of ways. Drawing on every last bit of his bajha-honed control, he kept up the slow, measured, erotic entry until he was sure it would kill him unless he let loose and plunged deep. But, he reaped the reward for his patience a thousand times over when she sheathed him fully, and gloriously.

They went still, bonded together, her hands gripping his shoulders, their gazes fused. Rocking his body slowly, he brought one hand to her lovely heart-shaped face, “Enajhe a’nai,” he murmured in Eireyan.Body and soul.

Her eyes hazed over with pleasure. She moaned, pushing against him, deepening his deliberately slow, sensual strokes. It took everything he had not to explode. This was always the place where he would lose himself in the act, the end goal being maximum physical release—his. But this time it was different. This time he wanted the woman he was with to hold him close, tobe with himevery moment along the way.

He wanted no less than all of her as they moved together. He wanted the emotional and mental connectedness they shared in the bajha ring to be here, too.

And then…there she was. He felther. In his mind, under his skin. In his soul. Coupled with the physical sensations, it brought the sex to an indescribable new level of ecstasy.

Enajhe a’nai.

They swayed together, move and counter move, anticipating and magnifying each other’s desire. His loins clenched with a heavy, potent, pleasure-pain warning he would not last much longer. But he held on, held back, his breaths slowing as he opened himself to her, opened his mind.Feel me, Jemm. Feel me, sweetheart. Her body responded, clutching him with each one of his fierce strokes. On and on…

Until at last her inner muscles convulsed. She let out a soft, throaty cry of delight and surprise as she climaxed, her nails digging into his shoulders.

Instead of pushing up on rigid arms, retreating into himself in that moment, Klark bowed his body to her quaking one, his head falling to hers as he looped one arm under her thigh to press her close. He jolted inside her, once, twice. Then he groaned into the crook of her neck and let himself go. His release shuddered on and on, and eclipsed anything he had ever experienced before.

He sagged to his side like a dead man, and took her with him, drawing her tight to his spent body. Dazzled by what he had discovered in her arms, he kissed and stroked and nuzzled her, holding her close until their bodies stopped quivering. “I was right,” he said in a very low, intimate tone. “You are indeed perfect, my gorgeous Baréshti lass.”

She smiled up at him, a soft, wondering smile. “You’re pretty perfect yourself, my sexy, fine-looking aristo.”

They laughed and a feeling of lightness swept through him. “Me? Perfect? Hmm. You may very well be the only person in the Federation who thinks so.”

“Tonight, I’m the only person who matters.”

He placed his bent index finger under her chin, his tone firm. “If I thought you would matter for only one night, we never would have gotten this far.”

At that, she made a small sound of happiness and hunger, and reached for him, pulling him back to her mouth.

Jemm cracked her eyes open in the soft early light of morning. She was lying on her back in the softest of beds. It rained overnight but had cleared. Filtered by tall trees, sunshine streamed through a huge bedside window. It was real, remarkable sunlight—incredible after having spent a lifetime under artificial illumination. She imagined little Button running out from the moist fragrant forest into the sunshine, the brightness warming her bare arms. It was easy to picture the child giggling as she scampered in the soft grass. This was the life Jemm wanted to make for her. This was why she had dreamed.

The dogged pursuit of that dream led her here, to this bed, to this man, only the latest in adventurous twists her life had taken.

She came up on an elbow to savor the sight of her lover sprawled on his stomach, his arm flung over her belly. His muscled back was one long lean line of smooth, bronzed perfection. She followed the defiant curve of his spine to where it ended in a pair of firm cheeks. This man had been blessed with one fine backside.

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