Page 18 of Advance and Retreat
Kila yanked free.He stood shuddering behind her as she registered she wasn’t allowed to come right away.Her beseeching wail went unanswered.The Nobek simply gasped and kept a tight grip on her hips, holding her motionless and aching for gratification.
“My Nobek,” she sobbed when she found the ability to speak.
He didn’t respond.
Hope’s fist clenched.It took all the scant restraint she possessed to keep from slamming it on Piras’ ribs in frustration.She’d been so close.
“Fuck!”she yelled.
Finally, Kila reacted.He barked a harsh laugh and shifted.
This time, the probing was in a different spot.She keened a welcome, eager for him to fill her however he deemed necessary.It wouldn’t take much to finish her off.
He sank in her, his primary delving where it was tightest, his secondary invading her where she burned so hungrily.The double impalement delivered delicious friction where she needed it most, and he’d barely managed a single stroke when she detonated.
Somewhere in the midst of the gorgeous convulsions, she heard his shout as he too found his reward.Their cries of ecstasy twined together in an exalted chorus.
“I love you, my Matara,” he sighed minutes later.“Forgive how quick I was.”
“Quicker than me,” Lokmi chortled.
“No complaints,” Hope sighed as he helped her to her feet.“I don’t think any of us are in the mood for a marathon after the day we’ve had.”
She was certainly ready to call it quits, but there remained one man who needed his share of attention.Piras continued to crouch on the floor, waiting for whatever he’d be granted...or denied.
Not a marathon, but it looks like I have the third leg of a triathlon left to go.Hope felt no hassle to face another round, however.She’d been put through her paces by two of her clanmates.It was her turn to be in control.
She went to the bin she’d hidden in and drew out the blanket she’d curled on under the false bottom, the only comfort she’d enjoyed during her imprisonment as she’d been smuggled onto Jedver.She returned to the silent and still Dramok anticipating her pleasure.She spread the blanket on the floor next to him.
“Stand up and strip, Piras.As slowly as you took my clothes off for Lokmi.”
“Yes, my Matara.”Eagerness colored his tone, and she smiled.
A hiss attracted her notice, and she looked over her shoulder.Kila was in the tiny shower stall, letting the water sluice over him as he stood under the spray, an air of contentment replacing his earlier ferocity.
She sighed, contented herself now that she knew her clan was safe.Except for Piras, their tension about the situation had been alleviated.
Until the next emergency came along.It seemed they’d been traveling from one predicament to another for eternity now.It had been a hell of a year.
She returned her attention to Piras, who’d waited for her to look at him before he started to disrobe.Such a good boy.The idea of rewarding him gave her pleasure beyond sexual gratification.She found it as fulfilling as surrendering to Lokmi and Kila, who compensated her so very well for her submission.
She watched as Piras parted the resealable seam of his one-piece armored uniform along the front.He peeled the top off his shoulders, giving her a nice, long look at the most streamlined of her clanmates.Though his heavy jaw kept his otherwise delicately featured face from absolute elegance, rendering it interesting instead of merely handsome, nothing kept his body from lithe, toned grace.He was poetry made flesh; a lyric composed to float on the air.His strength of character, though hidden in this moment, added to the perfection she’d seen every day since he’d clanned her.
Her heart ached from love for him.If you only knew how you own me.
She wished he’d dared to raise his gaze to hers rather than in downcast submission so perhaps he could see what words would never be able to convey.
He paused when his uniform reached his waist to pull his boots off.He stepped on the blanket as each foot bared.Even his slender feet and their long toes were lovely.
He finally glanced up, a wordless request for her permission, then inched the uniform past his waist, hips, thighs, and calves.Bent, he tugged it all the way off and dropped it in a heap at the corner of the blanket.Then he slowly straightened, giving her an unimpeded view an inch at a time.
How often had she seen him naked?As often as he’d stolen her breath, she was certain.
She stepped close, gazing up into his eyes, which finally met hers.She’d seen him red-faced in rage, his features contorted as bestial as Kila had ever managed.She’d seen him cold, somehow deadlier when his intent was merciless in its focus.That was Dramok Piras outside the bedroom, a force no sane person dared to oppose.
For her, when they were alone and intimate, the loving Piras emerged, devoted to her with a single-mindedness that meant just her happiness mattered.This was the Piras who looked at her now, at once yearning, loving, and eager to offer her everything he was.
Her fingertips traced his straight nose, his arched brows, the delicate cheekbones, the far less delicate jaw.She drew him close for a kiss so sweet it was nearly chaste.“I love you,” she whispered against his lips, so he could feel and taste the words as well as hear them.
