Page 152 of Seven Oars
“Can you do it?” she asked in a thin voice.
“I’ll manage,” he replied with utter seriousness.
He took her into his arms, enveloping her in his vitality and strength. She felt more at ease, yet still worried. How could this virile male find satisfaction with a woman as frail and odd-looking as her?
“I don’t think…”
“Too late.” He leaned down and kissed her.
Her fragmented memory supplied her with snippets of their kiss in the Meat Locker, but she’d been too weak and disoriented to remember every delicious detail.
She savored it now, but he broke away too soon.
Turning her, he positioned her back to him. She stared out into the vast Universe.
His hands settled heavily on her shoulders, sliding up and down her arms, possessive.Sensations assaulted her, making goosebumps march along her arms. She wanted to get it right for him. But how could she, if she knew nothing about men, much less this one?
He moved aside her braid and nuzzled her neck, kissing behind her ear and licking the sensitive skin around it.
His hands then slipped under her top and pulled it over her head along with the thin cotton tank top she wore underneath.
She swallowed, her hands reflexively covering her chest before forcing them to relax at her sides.She stilled, mortified and vulnerable, acutely aware of Fincros’fingers tracing her shoulder blades.
She was so painfully thin. Her ribs showed under her small breasts. Her skin was too pale, with veins visible beneath. The hair on her head, and the hair that she had down there, all of it was monochrome, bland, without contrast.
His hands trailed down and encircled her waist, his fingers touching her belly button.It tickled, and she sucked in a small breath.
“Do you like it?” he asked in her ear. The scaly material of the defender shirt abraded her back when he pressed close.
“I don’t know, Finn,” she admitted.“I can’t think.”
He caressed her stomach, rubbing it in lazy patterns. Then he drew her tighter against him. With the difference in their heights, Rosamma’s back fit flush with his crotch, still flat.
“Am I too strange for you?” she whispered.
“You’re just right.” His voice was husky.
Suddenly, he brought one hand around and put it on her inner thigh.
This time, when a flush suffused her, it wasn’t from embarrassment. Her pulse ramped up, her body stirring to life.
She’d read about what lovers do, about intimacy and pleasure. Without much hope of ever lying with a man, she’d experimented a little, pretending her hands were the hands of her lover.
Her private explorations couldn’t compare to this.
The touch of Fincros’rough hand on her thigh ignited that vague, dark feeling she’d always felt around him into a fire in her belly.
“I like it, Finn,” she confessed in a hurried whisper.“I like it when you touch me,”
“Good. Because I can’t stop touching you.”
His hand nearly reached the apex of her thighs before he withdrew it. He cupped both her breasts again, and this time his touch was rougher as he squeezed them.
She arched her back in response, pressing her nipples into his palms. She wanted him to rub them until they hurt, or until they stopped hurting.
He moved to stand before her. His eyes glittered, dark as the endless night against his swarthy, marred face.She sensed his arousal even though his body didn’t show it the way a human male would.
Their mouths came together. Their tongues twined, Rosamma’s touching his serrated teeth.
