Page 69 of Kiss Across the Universe
Her body responded, tingling, ripening under the pleasure. Alannah sighed into his mouth, delighted.
But Kit didn’t stop at just kissing her. His lips explored her face, trailed over her chin and down her throat. His fingers moved ahead of his mouth, stroking and tasting in their own way.
Hazily, she wondered if he would insist they keep their clothes on for warmth, but when he peeled off her jacket, then tugged up the hem of her tunic, pulling the top over her head, she was delighted.
It gave her the freedom to do what she had wanted to do all along. She tackled his clothing, pulling it off with impatient tugs and tossing it aside carelessly. She wanted to see as much of him as possible. She wanted to feel every raw inch, and explore it with her mouth.
Even when they were naked, Kit kept the sleeping bag more or less over the top of them, but that didn’t stop her from glimpsing delicious areas of his body, glowing in the firelight, as the bag slipped and slid over them at their frantic movements.
Coherent thought scattered. She became a feeling animal, driven by an overwhelming need to take him into her. Perhaps Kit sensed that. Perhaps he was feeling the same wild urgency himself. For he did not try to slow their movements at all. His mouth fastened onto her nipple, pulling a deep groan from her, as his hand gripped her knee and pulled it up high against his hip.
His gaze met hers as his cock nudged her slick vagina. Then he slammed into her, hot and hard and thick and so very, very good.
They grew still for a few rapid heartbeats. Alannah moaned at the perfection of the moment.
Kit rested his forehead against hers. Just for a moment. She could feel fine quivers rippling through him, which made her muscles tighten and grip him, and her clit to throb against the pressure his pelvis was putting on it.
It felt fundamentally right. Like everything in the world had clicked into place. And deep inside, she knew in a way that she could not yet articulate that this was nothing to do with survival.
He gave a deep groan of his own. “Delicious…” he breathed. Then he thrust into her again. Hard. Slow.
It didn’t last. It couldn’t. The heat rose between them. She could feel her climax building swiftly and surely. It was going to take the top of her head off. She could feel the power of it, gripping her. Shortening her breath down to tiny sips and pants.
Kit’s thick glossy hair brushed her throat and chin as his lips nibbled at the sensitive flesh around her collar bone. Then he threw back his head and his hips shifted faster. He thrust more quickly, and Alannah’s body answered. Her climax leapt, searing along her nerves. Her breath hitched and hitched again. The peak of excitement singed her thoughts to nothingness, and held her in a silvered sea of sensory overload, everything brought to stillness by the pure joy of it.
Then she seemed to come down to earth, her breath gone, every inch of her tingling and her toes curling as the aftermath of her climax rippled through her in deeply pleasurable waves. Her clit throbbed in time.
Kit strained and grew still and she felt his cock quiver inside her, as his own climax seemed to grip him with the same breath-robbing intensity. Then he relaxed against her, almost-but-not-quite sagging. He didn’t allow his weight to rest on her too heavily, even though she could feel his arms trembling.Allof him trembled.
When she thought she had the breath to speak, she cleared her throat. “Wow…” she breathed. She still sounded breathless.
In answer, his lips touched hers. Then the tip of her nose. Then her forehead. Back to her lips.
It was endearing. It was lovely.
But it also felt a lot like he was wrapping things up.
Alannah pushed at his shoulder. He was heavy, but he obligingly rolled onto his back. It dislodged his cock, but that would be easily correctable. Alannah straddled his hips, feeling herself spread open above him and loving the wickedness of it. Her arms trembled, too, as she leaned over him, her mouth only a few inches above his. “More,” she said firmly.
He arranged the sleeping bag over her. Smoothed his hand down her back, and cupped her ass through the bag. “Yes,” he said simply, making her heart soar.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Once he had given intoAlannah’s demands, Kit held nothing back. He seemed tireless, inexhaustible. Alannah didn’t let herself wonder about that. She delighted in it, instead, for it suited her mood. She found it easy to reach for him over and over. To find ways to rouse him, to make him want her one more time. And another after that.
She moved her lips down his chest and let herself nibble at the rise of his pecs, just as she had wanted to. Then she moved down farther, trailing over the fine patch of hair on his chest, then onto the flat plane of his stomach and delighted at the way his muscles shifted and clenched under her ministrations.
Then farther still. She settled between his legs and took his cock into her mouth and used every skill she had to make him writhe and groan and beg her in a hoarse voice to don’t stop, god, don’t stop!
In Hollywood, going down on a man was an expected, sometimes demanded form of foreplay. But now it seemed like the most natural thing in the world, a delight to add to the joys they were sharing.
She did stop, just when she thought his control was on the verge of breaking. Then she spread her legs over him once more and slid him inside her. His fingers gripped her hips with almost painful strength, guiding her as she rode him to the short, sweet conclusion.
This time, Kit flipped her on her back. The furrow had returned between his brows and she touched it. It smoothed away at her touch. “Two can play at that,” he told her, taking two breaths to get it out.
She shivered in delight as his mouth settled between her breasts, following the path she had taken on him. She wasn’t cold, even though the sleeping bag had fallen aside and had been forgotten some time ago.
Kit spread her legs with deliberate slow speed, teasing and taking his time. When his mouth fastened on her vulva, her hands jerked up to squeeze his shoulders. “Oh, god…” she whispered, echoing him, but with none of the strength he had mustered.
