The Erotic Expeditions - Complete Collection (10 page)

What was happening?

Using only one arm to support himself, he circled the other around her back, his arousal still hard inside her. Her head was thrown back, over the edge, and he couldn’t see her face. Her body was incredibly tense and she didn’t seem to be breathing.

This was not what he’d intended.

Quickly, he bent his head to her breast and captured a nipple in his mouth.

Finally, she gasped and, as her back relaxed, her hips came to life. He thrust into her and the headboard of the bed rapped the wall. She lifted her head to look at him as her hips continued to move. He let her down and for a moment their eyes locked. She was searching his face, her own a fevered question. Her mouth silently formed a ‘what’ and then he thrust again.

Her pelvis went into over drive as the squeaking of the mattress crescendoed.

He knew she hadn’t meant it when she’d said he was only nineteen but–he pushed into her again–it was as though he had something to prove. He needed her to know that he wasn’t a child.

Her fingers dug into his upper arms as she tried to hold on. With each thrust of his hips, she ground harder into him. Suddenly, he clutched her to his chest and rolled to his back. The headboard banged the wall.

He drew her into a sitting position astride him as her hair swept in front of her face. He sank completely into her and she groaned, hunching forward as her abdomen tightened. As she had rolled to the top, she’d instinctively drawn her knees closer and had started to separate from him. But now she let her knees spread outward, moving lower. But as he grasped her breasts, his hips suddenly convulsed. The mattress squeaked, the headboard thunked, and their bodies met with a smacking thud.

He wanted so much for the timing to be right but his groin and buttocks could no longer wait. His pelvis lifted her so high that her knees left the bed. She had to steady herself with her hands on his ribs but her hips continued to pump furiously. Her torso was flexing like a whip as her movements became shorter and quicker. As his hips finally lowered, he grasped her gyrating waist and pressed her down. He felt her clench begin.
 

As he thickened inside her, he curled his torso up and captured a bouncing nipple in his mouth. Her sudden moan quickly rose to a low wail. Then his hips jerked back upward. Her nipple escaped his mouth and his lower back slammed into the bed. As her tightening came in waves, his release exploded. He flung his arms out to the sides and bucked hard.

His climax throbbed inside her. His hips pumped as he tried to control himself but it was like a runaway train. As she fully clenched, his hands flew to her hips, pressing her down, keeping her connected, and his climax throbbed again, and then again. It was unrelenting and he groaned against the burning of it.

“Oh god,” he ground out.

Only when he felt Emily’s hands on his chest did he realize his eyes were shut. He opened them to find her leaning forward. He watched her chest heave, trying to catch enough breath. Then her stomach contracted one last time and her climax gripped him as she began to fall forward.

The tightening squeezed him hard and he cried out and his hips jerked in response. She thudded into his chest, and as he rolled her to her back, he climbed on top. He thrust into her yet again.
 

He cried out, as the brief thickening and release overwhelmed him.
 

Below him, Emily’s breath came in quick, labored gasps, as his hips continued to spasm. Her eyes looked into his and her hands caressed the side of his face. His pelvis jerked one last time and, as her lips parted in a brief gasp, he breathed into her mouth with the only word that seemed to exist.

“Emily.”

ARCTIC EXPOSURE

An Erotic Expedition Novella

PART 3

By Hazel Hunter

Austin had been different this time, Emily thought.

It was early evening of their second day back in town but it felt like it’d been forever. There had been ups and downs and the shock of meeting that man who was his father.

When they’d finally returned to her room at the B&B, they’d made love as if their need for each other was greater now than before.

How had she ever convinced herself that she could be without him?

As soon as they’d caught their breath, Austin had reached out to her and pulled her to his side. Now she lay in the crook of his arm, her head on his shoulder, one arm draped over his chest. He aimlessly stroked her back.

Now that she’d seen his father, a few pieces of Austin’s puzzle started to click into place. No wonder he lifted weights. As she looked down at the bruise on his abdomen, a horrible thought occurred to her. He’d said he put the injury out of his mind.

Her fingers drifted down to it and she lightly brushed the skin next to it. Now she knew how he’d stopped thinking about the pain–he had practiced.

He looked down at her.

She looked up at him, his face a little puzzled.

“He beat you,” she said quietly. “Didn’t he?”

He turned his head and looked at the ceiling.

“That’s in the past,” he said.

Emily watched the defiant jut of his chin and felt his muscles tighten where she lay against him. He’d survived, like weathering a storm, and now that storm was over–in the past.

But Emily knew the past was never over. You dragged it with you, whether you wanted it or not.

“How can you live there?” she asked.

“It won’t be forever.” He paused. “In fact,” he said, looking down at her, “it won’t be long before I leave.”

She got up on her elbow.

“Leave?”

“After the hunt tomorrow.”

“But–”

“I’m ready,” he said. “I’ve been getting ready…well, all my life I think.”

His eyebrows knit together as he looked at her. His hand went to the side of her face and he ran his fingers along the line of her jaw.

“I said I’d never seen you wearing underwear,” he said, his cheeks turning a bit red.
 

She reached out and held his face, impossibly boyish.

“But the truth is,” he said, as he looked down at her body. “I’d never seen any woman. My entire life I’ve spent as much time by myself as I could. Most of it, on the ice.”

Click went another puzzle piece. She hadn’t believed someone so amazing could still be a virgin. His shyness and wonder had convinced her that it was true but now she knew why. He wouldn’t have encountered a lot of girls on the ice.

Then she thought of Karlin.
 

And he wouldn’t have been able to bring a girl anywhere near that man.

Suddenly, she sat up.

“Come with me after the whale hunt,” she blurted out.

“What?” he said.

He sat up and scooted back against the headboard as it hit the wall.

“When I leave,” she said, hardly believing the words coming out of her own mouth. “Come with me to Greenland, to the seal hunt.”

He started to shake his head.

“You’re leaving anyway,” she insisted, her heart racing. “You just said so.”

He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it thinking. A small smile began to play on his lips. His large hands moved to her waist and brought her in front of him, straddling his thighs. For once, he didn’t seem aroused but he stared hard into her eyes. She put her hands behind his neck. She thought they might kiss and she leaned in.

“Why don’t you ever say my name?”

Surprised, she sat back.

His little smile was gone and his emotions were right there on his face, like in the igloo. He was afraid of the answer.

“When we make love,” he said, quietly. “You never say my name.”

The words bit into her with a familiar pain. It was the old pattern re-emerging. She never said anybody’s name, no matter what. Not ever. No discussion. It made for arguments, and hurt feelings, and the word ‘frigid’ would then come up.

Oh no, no, no. So soon?

“Emily?” she heard him say.

She was staring at his chest, though her eyes no longer focused. Dread was starting to build inside her. She knew what was coming next. It was always anger.

His hands were on the sides of her face now and he turned it up to his.

“Is it me?” he whispered.

Him?

It was as though a dam had broken.

“No,” she said, too loud. “
No
. It could
never
be you. I just can’t…you know.” She swallowed and tried again. “I can’t…I mean, I’ve never…”

“Said someone’s name while–?” he said, frowning.

“Yes,
that
,” she said, talking too fast. “It’s not you. It’s me. I just can’t. I don’t know why. I–”

“Okay, okay, okay,” he whispered.

He sat forward and drew her into an embrace. Her arms immediately wound around him and, as she hugged him tightly, she heard her own heart pounding in her ears.
 

He stroked her back.

She had
never
tried to explain it to anybody, though it had hardly been an explanation. But she didn’t know what else to say. She had never been able to say someone’s name
like that
and she didn’t know why. She just couldn’t.

As her heart slowed, she realized she was trembling.

Austin continued to stroke her back.

“It’s okay,” he whispered.

Was it? How could it be? But the way he said it made it seem like it might be true. And she wanted
very
much for it to be true. She squeezed him tight and closed her eyes.

“I love you, Austin,” she whispered. “More than I know how to say.”

There were a few moments silence and she felt the muscles of his arms completely envelop her.

“And I love you, Emily. I’m coming with you.”

• • • • •

There had to be at least a few hundred people at the shore. Emily was already shooting as she and Austin approached them.
 

Before it was light, he had gotten up and left to get his kayak. Now, as he walked beside her, he carried it easily with one arm tucked inside it.

It was an incredibly graceful looking craft, maybe fifteen feet long and sleek, coming to fine tapered points at both ends. Austin had said the original kayaks were sometimes framed with whalebone but his was framed with driftwood. Sealskin was stretched taut over the ribbing and made water tight with whale fat. Except for the whalers in the long boats, every member of the party used their own kayak, tailor made for them.

“They say that when a person dies during a kayak hunt that they must have borrowed someone else’s kayak,” he said. “It never fits right.”

Under his other arm, he carried the paddle, a harpoon, and a red plastic bucket with a rope in it.

Last night, it had taken hours for her to settle down to sleep and when she’d woken to find him dressing, she’d panicked.

“Just going to get the kayak,” he said, coming to the bed. He lightly kissed her. “You’re not getting out of our deal that easy.”

They had both laughed a little.

As they walked together, it seemed to her that there might be a bit of a bounce to his step. She definitely felt like she might be walking about three feet off the ground.

“What’s the red bucket for?” she asked. “Just to carry the rope?”

He smiled down at her–a beaming smile.

“It’s a poor-man’s buoy,” he said.

She cocked her head at it and peered inside. There was only rope.

“The bucket is attached to the rope and the rope is tied to the harpoon,” he said, lifting it higher. “When the harpoon lands and the whale takes off, the bucket gets dragged behind.”

Soon, they were among the crowd. The hunting party all seemed like they had something to do. And so did she. She and Austin came to a stop several yards from the edge of the water.

“This could take all day,” he said after setting all the gear down.
 

He looked down at her but didn’t reach out. Though they hadn’t talked about it, it seemed like keeping their relationship quiet might be the easiest thing.

“No matter when we get back, though, I’ll come to your room,” he said.

He was looking at her lips and she knew he was having the same thought as her.

“I’ll be waiting,” she said, smiling.

His face was
so
happy. She felt like she might burst from happiness herself.

Then a thought made his eyes check left and right and his face turned a bit more serious.

“Whatever you do,” he said. “Don’t go to my house. Okay?”

“No problem,” she quickly agreed.

He nodded.

They looked at each other for several seconds.

“I’ve got to go and start getting ready,” he said. “It might be the last hunt I do here, so I want it to be good.”

“I know,” she said. “Go.”

He wore the sealskin clothing today–traditional.

He nodded once, stooped and picked up the gear. He gave her one last look and headed toward a group of men at the water line. She raised the camera to her face and zoomed in on his butt. With a little giggle, she snapped the shutter. As she lowered the camera, she had to be careful not to drop its full weight. She had tied the severed ends of the strap together with a knot.

The rest of the morning she had made sure to canvas the entire whaling party. The hunt had been the crux of her assignment. The igloo building had been an afterthought, something to take advantage of the few days she’d be here before the main event. She shook her head at the thought. The igloo–
not
the igloo, Austin–had changed her.

As the larger boats got ready to launch, she did several close-ups to capture the details. She’d read that the bowhead whales could be sixty-five feet long and weigh up to sixty tons. As she studied the actual whaling boats, it was hard to imagine. None of them had more than six whalers each. Though much larger than the kayaks, they’d be dwarfed by their prey.

Though she’d wanted to photograph the actual hunt, the tribe had stopped permitting that. Although they’d said it’d be too dangerous, she knew their resistance really stemmed from the bad publicity. Though this event had been their way of life, their very means of survival, for centuries, animal rights and conservation groups invariably raised an outcry.