Lunar Lovers (3 page)

Deciding there was no use fighting her feelings of safety
and something more, she leaned back against him, comfortable in his embrace.
Her exhaustion pulled her under into sleep.

Chapter Three

Usually when Sam sat in the pilot’s seat, he broke out in a
cold sweat that drenched him with fear pheromones until the autopilot
successfully flew him to his destination. Today, however, he was consumed by
his mate.

He loved the feel of her in his arms and blessed the gods
who had directed him to take his one-seater flip ship instead of the two-seater
he often used. Her scent surrounded him in the close quarters, binding him to
her like nothing else could. His dread dissipated as if the past horror he’d
experienced in flight was just a bad dream.

He tasted her sweet, spicy essence on his tongue. He heard
the subtle shift in her breathing as her heartbeat gradually slowed to match
his.

Soon they would be as one.

And when she met his six brothers, a sub-bonding would occur
between her and each one of them until they were all a mated unit, with Sam as
her primary mate and his brothers as her minor mates.

Achelle joining the family marked the beginning of the
completion they had all sought since puberty.

She moved closer, adjusting her position, getting
comfortable, brushing up against the throbbing thickness that pressed against
the seam of his pants.

He stifled a groan.

With the bonding escalating, their bodies had begun to prepare
for coupling—a natural trigger that would complete the physical bonding as
their minds and spirits joined together as mates.

He activated the ship’s autopilot as soon as they left the
docking station, setting them on the fastest course. Instinctively, he knew
Achelle would need to couple with him soon or fall into unbridled agony if the
coupling was left incomplete.

Once she joined with all seven males, she would be bonded to
his family, mated to him and protected by him and his brothers.

With his flip ship full of supplies and an extra person,
their trip would take—he checked the ETA—five point five hours. If his
instincts were right, and he didn’t doubt them, his mate would need to couple
an hour or more before then.

Her head slumped back against his chest as exhaustion
overtook her and he anchored her there by wrapping his thick arms around her
petite waist just below small, high breasts that tempted him. But he would
never do that, never take advantage of her weakness.

She mumbled in her sleep and he adjusted her on his lap so
he could care for her injured ankles and feet. Quickly and efficiently he
tended her chemical burns, spraying heal-all on her raw skin and watching as
the medication worked its magic—the tissue and skin healing, reknitting, returning
to her pretty pink coloring.

Once satisfied with the effectiveness of the heal-all,
Samius noticed a series of small holes in her skirt higher up. He inched the
fabric up to look for additional injuries and found several. Tenderly he
applied the medication to the tiny burns that spotted her calves and thighs
like angry, red freckles.

He watched, mesmerized as she healed, revealing beautiful
unblemished legs that he couldn’t help but run his work-rough hands up and
down, loving the feel of her silky-soft skin.

She murmured in her sleep. Her hand came up and landed over
his heart. Silently, he lowered her skirt and cuddled her in his arms, not
wanting to wake her. If she could sleep through the trip—sleep through the
rising demand her body made on both of them to join together, he could and
would control himself so that his younger brothers could bear witness to the
first coupling, as was tradition.

But after a few light-years and a couple of hours, Achelle
stirred. With an adorable mewl, her large, magenta eyes slowly opened—and then
widened as she looked up into his face. An adorable blush painted her cheeks as
she realized she had draped herself over him.

“How much further?” She grimaced as if in pain when she
pulled away from him.

“About an hour.” He rubbed her back to soothe her. “Can I
get you something to eat or drink?”

“No, thank you.” Her breath caught and she trembled. The
scent of her need permeated the air like a thousand open flowers. She needed to
couple soon or the drive to do so would become unbearable.

To divert her, Samius described his brothers, their home and
their mining company. “Our home is in the middle of one point six thousand
acres of land passed down through eighteen generations of my family. We mine
for naturally occurring gems and minerals, some of them rare.”

“What kind of minerals?” She scooted away from his obvious
erection to balance on his knees.

One corner of his mouth curved up and he offered her a
lopsided smile. “Most females ask about the gems.” She ground her teeth and he
dropped his smile. “The most common minerals we find are silicate, carbonate,
oxide. My brother Cannan is a mineralogist. He can tell you all about the
minerals we mine. The latest drill result will be in by the time we arrive home
and will be discussed at length over supper, I’m sure.”

His eyes wandered to her breast, over her heart, the place
he and his brothers would use their sharp teeth to mark her as their mortal
mate. She crossed her arms over her chest. Samius met her gaze once more and
remembered what they’d been discussing.

“My brothers Errol and Essar are identical twins. They’re
lead project engineers, the best around.”

She squirmed on his lap. “What do they do?”

“Everything from concept design development to quality
control.”

He noticed both her hands pressed against her lower abdomen
and that she was gritting her teeth. She must be hurting.

Hell, his own need to couple ate at him like a bad case of
the space bug virus. He cleared his throat and forced himself to continue. “My
youngest three brothers are Shome, Redell and Faolan. They’re still in school.”

A pain-filled moan escaped Achelle. Her body tensed, her
eyes slammed shut and her legs opened so she could straddle his leg, rubbing
her most sensitive place against his thigh as her need to couple intensified.

Reason receded. Deep in his throat, he growled, his need to
couple demanding he take her.
Now. Now. Now.

Her back arched, thrusting her breasts into the air while
her hips, as if of their own accord, undulated. He cupped her hips in his hands
as she rode his broad leg.

Her scent increased, suffocating him in the most
intoxicating smell he’d ever been exposed to.

With a frustrated growl, she tore off her panties and
bunched her skirts up around her waist so that the only barrier between her
moist core and his leg was the fine, breathable material of his trousers.
Cursing, he checked the remaining time for the flight even while he palmed her
ass.

When Samius groaned and shifted beneath her, the pleasure
that ripped through her body was like nothing she had ever known.

What’s wrong with me?

The only answer she received was her body demanding she find
release. A sob breached her lips as Samius cupped her bottom and then slid his
hands around her waist and up beneath her loose cotton shirt. With each press
and roll, she whimpered.

His hands found her breast-band and folded up the stretchy
material. He exposed her breasts and rolled her tight nipples between thumbs
and forefingers. A thrill went through her at the thought that she was making
love to this man, that Samius, who she knew so little about, would be her first
lover. And oh how she wanted him. She didn’t know why or how it happened but
she was consumed by him, needed him inside her.

Without any inhibition, Achelle reached behind her and
pressed her palm against his erection. The length of him twitched against her
fingers. The head of him nudged her palm as if asking her to release him from
his pants.

He nipped her ear before hissing, “If you continue to touch
me there, Mate, there will be no turning back. No postponing the inevitable. Do
you understand this?”

Shit.

She lifted her hand and pressed it once more to her stomach,
trying to ease the pain that cramped her muscles and demanded she have sex with
a stranger. Here she had been avoiding selling her body and now she found she
would sell her soul for the feel of Samius’ tongue thrusting into her mouth,
the slow slide of his cock opening her feminine walls to make room for his
length and girth as he pumped hard and fast.

Standing, she took a deep, calming breath and righted her
breast-band, shirt and skirt. The clenching between her thighs made her cry
out. A tear snaked down her cheek.

Samius’ rich voice filled the cabin with curses. He snatched
her up, twirled her around and set her, facing him, on his lap. In a last-ditch
effort, she pressed her palms against his chest and halfheartedly tried to push
him away, but his green-blue eyes met hers and she froze under his passionate
gaze.

He captured her mouth in a scorching kiss that went on and
on, his tongue thrusting, his chocolaty taste filling her mouth, making her
moan, his hands seating her so that his large erection teased her swollen lower
lips.

She dug her nails into his broad shoulders when his fingers
sought her center and sank into the wet folds of her sex, slid up to her tight
little bud and teased the nerve-rich area.

When he pressed a long finger into the tight channel of her
body, she bucked and cried out, riding his hand as his finger mimicked the
thrust of his tongue. Just as her pleasure took wing, he withdrew. His tongue.
His finger. His self.

Tears of frustration sprang to her eyes. How dare he bring
her body to the pinnacle of pleasure and then abandon her, leaving her empty
and in need. How dare he—

“Oh!”

He stood with her in his arms, locked the controls and then
laid her on the panel. With a quick yank her skirt was pulled up and she was
left exposed to his heated gaze. His tongue darted out and he licked his lips
as a deep growl emanated from his throat.

He knelt, positioned her legs over his shoulders and lowered
his head to the aching, weeping center of her body. Before she could wince in
embarrassment, Samius let out a guttural growl that rolled through the tiny
ship like thunder. As she waited for the first touch of his mouth, her body
tensed, her heartbeat tripped and pounded out a rhythm of unadulterated need.

“Your scent makes demands of me.” His whisper rushed out in
a blast of heat that sent her inner thighs tingling.

“Mmm,” was all she could manage in response as she clenched
the edge of the control panel, an intense wave of painful need rolling through
her once more.

“I’d rather die than watch you suffer, not when I can
alleviate your pain.”

She dug her heels into his shoulder blades and dragged him
closer with a whimper.

He smoothed his fingers over her hips, her thighs, then
slowed to outline the glossy slit between her legs.

She moaned, her head falling back and thumping the hard
control panel. She wanted to shout at him to hurry the hells up but bit her lip
to stay silent.

At last he licked the seam of her lips, kissing the heart of
her body. Their cries of enthusiasm harmonized, creating a lovers’ duet. She
released the panel and slid her hands over her breasts, down her belly, to
cradle his head. His short, prickly hair tickled her palms. The soft, smooth
press of his lips shattered her shyness.

“Please,” she begged. “I need you.”

He lifted his head, gave her a feral smile and then pounced.
He aggressively laved and sucked. First flattening his tongue, spreading her
wide for his licks. Then swirling and sucking. Then narrowing his tongue to
pierce her, thrusting in fast little stabs that started her pelvis rocking to
meet him.

Her thighs hugged his head, holding him to her as she thrust
against his mouth, sighing and whimpering. Her body winding up and up.

He clutched her thighs and spread her legs apart, giving him
room to engulf her completely. His tongue flicked at her sex, driving her high
fast. The intensity of what she felt frightened her. She sobbed her passion,
cried her fear.

He released her legs and blindly found her hands to give a
reassuring squeeze.

Tears prickled her eyes at his kind gesture.

Achelle’s mother had passed on many lessons that she had
learned as a prostitute. But never once had she said or even alluded to the
possibility that the male might concern himself with the female’s feelings
during the sex act.

His kindness gave credence to her odd trust in him…at least
where her body was concerned, because to say she was in good hands was an
understatement.

He threaded his fingers through hers, still kneeling between
her legs, looking so large in comparison to her slight frame—his broad
shoulders supporting and extending her legs, his shaved head nodding over her
as lips pressed to lips.

Almost there.

Her body coiled. Pleasure ready to strike.

Talented tongue against tingling folds.

If not for his hands in hers, she wouldn’t have been able to
bear the shattering of her body when he broke her open and spilled her pleasure
into his mouth.

“Samius!” she shouted.

Her orgasm was ambrosia. Her voice an erotic cacophony of
whimpers and moans. And the sight of her body shuddering with ecstatic
spasms—indescribable.

Samius stood and stripped her cheap, rough clothes from her
rich, languid body, revealing her belly and breasts, her hips and mound. All
beautiful to behold. All begging to be touched.

Against his better judgment, his clothing joined hers in a
rumpled heap on the pilot’s chair while the autopilot flew the ship. They
weren’t going to make it home in time. Even if he could control his instinct to
couple—and it was important that he did—Achelle already showed signs of
discomfort once more, her muscles tensing, the heels of her hands pressing down
hard above her pelvic bone, the dreamy, satisfied look in her eyes turning
hard, reflecting her ache.