Page 77 of Stars in Umbra
Mo pulled her into his arms, his hold firm and secure.
He clasped her, his strength effortless, and began to sway with a grace that belied his massive frame.
He dancedIzomba, holding her tight, swirling his pelvis in a sensual, intimate dance.
They fell into a natural rhythm that was all their own.
He guided her through the throng as if they were the only two people there, their movements a seamless, beautiful dialogue.
Mo’s footwork and swirling hips were beyond seductive, yet he permitted her the freedom to move as she pleased.
Their bodies meshed, their groins close, their hands clasped, and the heat between them intensified with every beat of the drum.
‘Damn,’ he growled, his mouth near her ear, ‘you’re a natural.’
‘Just adapting to the environment,’ she shot back, a breathless laugh escaping her.
The dance became a silent tug of war between restraint and desire. Her muscles throbbed trying to keep up with him, but it was a good ache, a sign of life, of connection.
Her soul lifted, exhilarated as she lost herself in twists, turns, and melding her lower body with his; in a slow, sensual, and persistent rhythm that forced her to assume softer and more fluid positions.
When the set ended, they were both flushed, breathing hard, their eyes still locked.
‘Let’s get some air,’ he rasped, his voice thick and hoarse.
They wandered away from the party floor, finding a quiet alcove outside the sliding glass doors of the centre.
He pulled her onto his lap on a padded bench nestled into the curved wall overlooking the sprawling twin rings rotating over Eden II.
Below, the crystalline spires of the metropolis still glittered, as they embraced, lips meshing, hands stroking in a raw, primal beat that resonated deep within her.
After a session of long, lingering kisses, he went to the bar.
He brought back glasses of ‘Solar Flare Nectar’, a chilled, viscous drink that glowed with an internal golden light. It hinted at condensed starlight and warm honey.
‘You liked it,’ he stated, a smug grin playing on his lips.
‘It’s delicious,’ she admitted, swirling the glowing liquid in her glass. ‘So distinct from my usual cocktails.’
‘I can’t wait to show you more,’ he said, his gaze intense, molten.
‘Don’t tease me,’ she murmured, her cheeks flushing under his scrutiny.
‘You ain’t seen nothing yet.’
He kept plying her with even more scrumptious treats, at one point bringing back a shared feast of Iccythrian delicacies: Pyre-Smoked Skewers, still sizzling, the meat succulent and infused with fragrant wood smoke.
He also brought crispy fries, seasoned with a spicy salt and warm, fluffy, buttery buns, perfect for soaking up the rich juices.
They washed it down with more of the delicious nectar.
‘You’ve got seasoning on your lips,’ he growled, reaching over.
His calloused thumb swiped the corner of her mouth, a shockingly tender gesture.
Rina caught his wrist and kissed the pad of his finger, her gaze locking with his.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘You trying to start something?’
