Then her memory deviated from the facts and became fantasy. She saw her own hands not covering up her body from his view, but picking their caresses up, sliding against her warm skin, her fingers dipping into her folds and rubbing under his watchful eyes that were so weird and foreign, sofocused.
In her mind, she was back in that sand bath, the warm Ehr sun beating down on her skin. She felt her own wetness against her fingers and moaned.
Her nipples puckered.
Encouraged by her response, Zoark shifted closer, molding his front to her back and placing his arm across her middle, pulling her a little higher. Addie’s breath hitched from so much male against her body. His breathing was deep and slow against her neck, and their fused position revealed that he wasn’t aroused.
But her senses were heightened, and she gripped his bare forearm, touching the warm skin with a dusting of slick fine hairs. His arm was thick and strong even though he wasn’t carrying the needed amount of weight. There was still power in him, and she… liked it.
She rubbed against him, seeking warmth and the security she sensed. In another flashback, she saw him in his teepee. He had strained when she doctored his wounds. His thick neck had corded, and his chest bowed, gleaming gold from the patchy light entering the dwelling.
He had deep well-healed scars on his shoulder, she remembered, asymmetrical white lines grooving the delicious swell of the muscle. She wanted to touch him, all those taught muscles, the delicious warm imperfections of scars on his skin. Would he let her now?
He dipped his head to kiss the side of her neck, pulling her dress to the side and licking her bare shoulder. His breath fanned across her cheek. The feel of his body, his smell, his breath on her neck, and a quiet grunt of annoyance he made when his hair tangled with hers obstructing his access - the sensual load crushed over Addie.
“Zoark?” she breathed, a plea or a question, she didn’t know.
His hand reached down and touched her between her legs. His fingers easily slid in between her slick folds. Little streaks of pleasure started shooting into her inner thighs.
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it too much?”
“It is too much. It isn’t enough.” She gasped from pleasure his hand was inflicting. “I’m not making sense.”
“You don’t have to.”
When his finger slid up and into her, she lost track of her thoughts. Reaching over and back, she slid her hand through his hair, wishing that he’d kiss her on the mouth, but he stubbornly kept his face at the back of her neck.
When her release came, swift and gushing, she convulsed in his arms, basking in the heady rush of pleasure. It was strong and liberating. She was feeling replete and a little naughty.
Slowly descending from her orgasmic high, Addie processed the sensations as they gradually returned to her. The chilling bite of the wind. The big gray rock that had borne silent testament to her pleasure. The warmth of Zoark’s big body at her back and the wetness between her legs where his fingers were pressing, holding her without rubbing as if to keep that pleasure in and not let it escape too soon.
He still wasn't hard, and the realization made the heat slowly seep out of Addie.
She tried to turn in his embrace but he wouldn’t let her. “No, don’t turn. Don’t spoil your pretty fantasy.”
At first, his words startled Addie. How did he know about her fantasies? But then it dawned on her: He was under the impression she was thinking about Gordon.
“I can’t dream about other men when you’re here, Zoark.” She shook her head sadly. “That’s not how it works. Even in my fantasy, it’s you.”
His breath hitched. His hand flexed convulsively over her mound, and his entire body shuddered. Like a powerful engine left unused for too long, it cranked. His entire system came to life with a sputtering growl, rusty and unoiled but turning over faster and smoother, revving all of its cylinders. She could feel the vibrations of his heart with every fiber.
He tightened in all the right places.
Flexing the arm around her waist, he hiked her higher, bringing their fitting parts in alignment. Addie squirmed, breathing fast, scared and excited, and filled with a wondrous kind of feeling that was hope.
“Zoark,” she whispered, lifting her arms up to twine them around the back of his head. “Zoark, Zoark, Zoark…”
He said something in For, guttural and deep. Removing the hand that covered her crotch, he pushed his clothing aside and yanked her closer still… entering her. She stilled, absorbing the sensations of his sizable shaft stretching her. There was no pain, her entrance slick and ready thanks to her lingering pleasure. He made her so full. Their joining was indescribable, like a great new chapter of her life opening to her.
He nudged her gently, and she responded by opening her inner thighs, the muscles in her legs tensing to offer better resistance to his thrusts. He was taking it easy, either unable or unwilling of slamming into her with the force she knew he must possess.
She was fully aware of what they were doing, of their slow careful mating, of his breath fanning hotter and hotter on the back of her head, of her inner walls responding again to the delicious friction. Suddenly, he tightened inside of her, growing fuller still, and released in a series of pulsing spurts, launching Addie into another erotic flight, so close… but then it ended.
His hold on her waist went lax, dropping her on her feet and uncoupling them in the process. Addie turned to look at him, and this time he didn’t prevent her. His face was blank. Too blank.
