The Assassin's Salvation (Mandrake Company) (25 page)

He went back to stroking himself, with more urgency this time, the nips at his stomach muscles exquisite beyond measure. Then her hand drifted lower, brushing the back of his. Though urgency cried out for him to stroke faster, he paused again, not sure if she wanted to stroke him, too, or just touch him. The suggestion that she might take her licking and sucking lower gave him the willpower to hold still, for the moment. He kept massaging the back of her neck and resisted the urge to push her in that direction, though he couldn’t keep from pressing himself up to her, groaning at the feel of her lips against his hard body.

Jamie pushed his hand away, then shifted her weight, her chin brushing his hair, her lips traveling closer and closer to him. She cupped his scrotum with one hand, and he gulped, his ass coming off the bed as he arched toward her. When her pink tongue came out and slid over his engorged flesh, his eyes rolled up toward the ceiling. She followed his length to the tip, then licked at the drops poised there. She took her time. Teasing him? Or deciding if she liked the taste? She kissed and licked up and down his length, her light touches making him pant. He dropped both hands to the bed, gripping the edge of the mattress so hard, he was in danger of tearing pieces out.

“Jamie,” he groaned, unable to take the teasing any longer, no matter how good it felt.

She turned her head enough to meet his eyes, though she didn’t stop touching him. Her hand was wrapped around the base of his shaft now, and she kept flicking her tongue against his tip. Later he might appreciate that he was living out his fantasy of the last week, but all he could do now was growl, “Suck me.”

He had meant to request, to plead, not to growl and order, but it had the desired effect. She took him in her mouth, her moist lips following his curves, hugging him and fulfilling him far better than his hand ever could. His panting grew faster, his whole body shaking as she moved him deeper, then shallower, back and forth. His hips bucked toward her of their own accord, probably giving her more of him than she wanted, but she sucked eagerly at him, anyway. He thrust quicker, and she matched his pace. As the final build came, a surge of worry filled him—he didn’t want to burst all over her. He leaned to the side and grabbed his shirt.

“Stop,” he whispered hoarsely, touching her shoulder. “I’m coming.”

She sat up at the same time as he got the shirt around himself, an instant before he exploded into it. The release sent a shudder of pleasure through him, but the fact that Jamie was sitting next to him, her hand still on his bare thigh, made it all the more exquisite.

He couldn’t wait to come inside of her, to hear her groan with pleasure and call out his name. It might be a while before he was ready to come again, but as to the name part… he gave her a lazy smile. They could start with that anytime.

“Time to return the favor?” she whispered, her eyes bright with—he hoped that was anticipation.

“Oh, yes,” he breathed.

* * *

A shiver of eagerness filled Jamie as Sergei pushed the shirt aside and sat up. She waited impatiently as he tugged his trousers the rest of the way off, letting them drop to the floor. She laid a hand on his shoulder, running it down his back. It was as lean and hard as the front, and she looked forward to exploring it later. It was all she could do not to start kissing his chest again, running her lips along the groves and swells of his topography. She understood that he would be sated for a time, but she was wet and hot and almost wished he had rolled onto her instead of grabbing for the shirt.

He shifted to face her, his eyes intense, as they so often were, but his body was much more relaxed, none of that usual tension rolling off him. Tension, or was it lust? His admission that he had wanted her all week had surprised her, but excited her also. And some things made much more sense now, especially his quick moves away from her on the judo mat, usually followed with a pause for instruction while his arm was draped artfully over his lap.

Jamie grinned at him and shifted her weight, relishing the way the seam of her trousers rubbed her between her legs, but she wanted more than that. Maybe she should take her clothes off and toss them on the floor to join his. A hint of shyness made her hesitate.

Sergei didn’t object to her clothed state. He rested his hand on her hip as he leaned in to kiss her. She slid both of her arms around his waist, delighted to return to kissing, to all manner of touching. During their earlier kiss, he had thrust into her, his tongue hard and demanding. This time, he slid his tongue along her lips, not demanding anything, simply stroking her even as his hands roamed up her sides and back. Her flesh awakened to fire everywhere he touched. He sucked at her lower lip, eliciting a new sensation, one that sent rolling waves of warmth through her body.

She had stolen a few kisses with neighbor boys as a teenager, when her father hadn’t been lurking nearby, ready to drive them off. They had usually been sweet and shy, as her own had doubtlessly been. With Sergei, his kisses were those of a man, not of a boy. A man who knew how to keep noses from bashing, who knew how to breathe at the same time as he caressed her with his tongue, and who somehow knew how much fire roared into her furnace every time he grazed the inside of her lower lip with his teeth.

One of his hands came up to the back of her head again, his fingers raking through her hair and rubbing her scalp. He had been doing that before, nearly making her forget her desire to help him reach his climax, making her want to slip her own hand down into
her
trousers instead. She squirmed against that seam now, wanting to feel something hard down there, rubbing against her.

She kissed Sergei back, growing bold with need, sucking and biting his lip gently. Or maybe not so gently.

He paused for a moment, their faces an inch apart, and he searched her face. “You’re already aroused.” He sounded surprised. As if running her hands along his magnificent chest, kissing his sweat-salty skin, and having him gaze at her with burning adoration wouldn’t have moved her? It had been that gaze, his eyes, as much as anything that had her slick and ready.

“Yes,” Jamie whispered, in case his comment had been a question. “Does that not usually happen to women who are with you?”

“Well. One does hope for that result.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “It’s just that I haven’t done much yet.”

He continued to knead her scalp as they talked, his fingers strong and adept at finding the right points to melt her into a quivering mass of desire. She leaned her head back into his hand, savoring his deep, probing touch.

“Then I look forward to seeing what you have planned,” she whispered.

“Good.” Sergei kissed her exposed throat, leaning her back onto the bed as he did so, pausing to make sure her head rested on the pillow.

She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down with her, even as she pushed her fingers through his short, damp hair. He had been exercising, she remembered. They would have to shower together later. Even if the small cubicles on spaceships weren’t that spacious, she had heard interesting stories of shared adventures in them. She smiled, imagining Sergei’s naked backside on display in the lavatory, and one of her hands strayed in that direction, daring to give him a squeeze.

“Mm,” he murmured against her neck, pressing his body closer to hers.

He kissed his way back up to her lips, which she opened eagerly, having missed his mouth against hers, now that she knew the marvelous things it could do. A cool draft whispered across the bare flesh of her chest. Her shirt had fallen open somehow. She wasn’t sure when that had happened, but Sergei’s calloused palm slid across her stomach, warm in comparison to the cool air. He was an assassin, she reminded herself. Sneaking a shirt off should be a simple matter. She smiled against his lips, wondering what else he would do now that she lay exposed. Every part of her ached to be touched.

He continued to kiss her, stroking her tongue as his hand slid up her side, fingers brushing the outside curve of her breast. His lips left hers, and she grunted a protest, but they traced their way over to her ear, his short beard brushing against her soft skin. His hand came up to cup her breast, and he rubbed her erect nipple with his thumb. It tightened almost painfully in response to his touch, but it was a delicious pain, and she tilted toward him, wanting to give him full access. He sucked at her ear, then bit softly, and a new flame flared to life, adding its heat to the fire burning in her furnace. She shifted her legs, rubbing against that seam again, wondering if she might convince Sergei to send one of his hands down there to take over the rubbing. Not that she wasn’t enjoying those strokes to her breast…

“Those trousers seem to be troubling you,” he whispered, kissing her throat now, his beard scraping sensuously against her skin, his sucking kisses making her whole body feel alive.

“I’m…” A little embarrassed to have been caught, she didn’t know what to say. Something pressed against the seam, and she gasped.

“Wet,” he whispered with a chuckle, kissing her collarbone now. “All the way through.” He sounded pleased, and her embarrassment faded.

“It’s your fault,” she dared say.

“Good,” he growled, giving her throat a little nip. He started rubbing her through her trousers, his thumb stroking her, tracing the line of her heat, and she groaned softly. His mouth followed the same path her tongue had followed on him, down the swell of her breast to an erect nipple. “Tell me if there’s something you want. I want to make sure you don’t run off to find a masseur later.”

She might have laughed, but while he spoke, his thumb kept rubbing against her, and she could barely find her breath. His mouth was doing wonderful things to her breast, too, alternately licking around her and sucking at her nipple. He cupped her other breast with his hand, the callouses stirring exquisite sensations as they stroked her sensitive skin.

Jamie inhaled his masculinity, her breaths quick, fueled by the pleasure coming from all directions. She pushed against his hand, squirming against him now. She lowered her thumbs to her waistband, wanting her trousers off. Sergei found the fastener first, peeling them and her panties down. She lifted her hips to hurry the clothing along its way. Cool air whispered against her hot depths. He tossed the garments to the floor—she didn’t remember taking off her shoes and grinned again at his stealth techniques—then slid his hands up the backs of her thighs, his strong hands finding untried flesh to stroke and rouse.

Though a distant part of her mind was pointing out that this was a strange and vulnerable position and that she should be shy and cover herself, her body disobeyed. She spread herself, wanting… she wasn’t even sure what, since he wouldn’t be ready for sex yet. But she didn’t feel vulnerable with Sergei.

The short hair of his beard rubbed the inside of her thigh, and she looked down, finding his burning eyes upon her blonde mound of curls. She couldn’t imagine a woman’s nether regions being attractive, but he smiled up at her, his handsome face more pleased than she had ever seen it, as if this were the fulfillment of some dream. He cupped her bare butt, raising her toward him, then nuzzled her softly, first rubbing his nose and chin against her, then slipping his tongue out.

She stiffened with a surge of desire at that first touch and thrust up toward him, surprising herself with her audacity. She had probably surprised him too. But he chuckled softly and slid his tongue between her lips. He brushed her swollen nub, then sucked at it softly. Jamie gasped, shocked by the bursts of pleasure that shot through her. She had rubbed herself down there before, but it had never felt so intense, so stimulating. She closed her eyes, her legs shivering as she pushed off the bed toward him. The hair of his beard scraping against her sensitive thighs had her trembling almost as much as the agile maneuvering of his tongue. He murmured, or maybe he was humming, the vibrations from his lips filling her with ecstasy. She panted, no longer able to talk, to think. She could only whisper his name, begging him to take that next step, to carry her over the edge.

Something besides his tongue touched her. His finger? His thumb? Even as he suckled her, sending waves of pleasure and urgency through her, he slipped a finger into her core, rubbing her from the inside. Her ache intensified, the need so great, she could barely stand it. She clutched the blanket beneath her and pushed up toward him, half her body off the bed. Then he hooked his finger, pressing it against her inner wall, and her heated body responded in an instant, an explosion of sensation rocketing through her, a cry escaping her lips though she was barely aware of it. She felt like she was floating in some heaven outside of the cabin, outside of the ship, even though she was aware of herself collapsing onto the bed, her body still throbbing against Sergei’s hand.

He eased out of her and lay beside her, sliding a hand up her waist and pausing to lick beads of sweat off her trembling stomach before bringing his face beside her, his eyes gentle as he watched her.

“That was…” Jamie swallowed, trying to catch her breath.

His eyebrows rose as he stroked her waist. “Yes?”

A few moments passed before she found her breath, before she could answer. Then she grinned mischievously at him. “No way could that Spartak do that.”

Sergei snorted. “I’m not sure whether to feel grateful for that compliment or offended that you remember his name.”

“I have a good memory. I could also tell you the model number of that robot’s chip.” She lifted a hand to brush the side of his face and slip her fingers around the back of his head, wanting to kiss him more.

“Impressive, but neither topic needs to be brought up in bed.”

“My apologies. I’m new to sleeping with men. You’ll have to educate me on propriety.” She smiled and pulled his head toward hers.

He kissed her, but pulled back long enough to say, “I only have one rule. The names of all the masseurs you know must be banished from your memory.”

“I’ll try to obey it.”

“Good.” He returned to kissing her. This time, his lips lingered, and several long delicious moments passed. Jamie could have gone on kissing all night, but the soft strokes of his tongue grew more intense again. His penis hardened against her hip. A new shiver of excitement traveled through her at the idea of more than his finger slipping into her. It would hurt, this time. That was what all of the books said. The deflowering, as they so poetically—and idiotically—called it. But then, it would be good again. More than good. She wanted nothing more than to have the experience he had just given her again. She could see why Ankari and the captain were always disappearing into closets—and shuttles—barely able to keep their hands off each other. She returned the intensity of Sergei’s kiss, thrusting her own tongue into his mouth, hungry for him all over.