Rose & Eane

Rose woke with the scent of Keane Piers in her lungs, and the memory of an erotic dream clouding her mind. Her lips nibbled at the soft hair with a tip of her head, and her hands lazily caressed hot, male muscles that slowly shifted and flexed. A moan bubbled up in her throat as the mouth playing with her breasts nipped and sucked at her nipples, then rubbed the faint raspiness of morning stubble over her nipples, making her gasp and moan. When he had tormented her long enough with that, he scattered slow, savoring kisses down across her ribs, along the side of her stomach, and onto the sensitive skin around the junction of her hip.

Choking as he licked the tender seam, she twitched reflexively away, onto her back. That was too much, way too much for someone with his effect on her to touch—she had almost orgasmed, just from the tip of his tongue! Her protectively upraised knee splayed out to her side in the next moment, as a callused hand slid up the tender skin of her thigh, allowing those inquisitive fingertips access to her incredibly wet core. She heard his sharp intake of breath at finding out just how wet she was; then again, she wasn't breathing that steadily, either. Especially not after he made up his mind in the next minute, and burrowed one finger deep into her body, making her arch her body into his touch, a keen entirely unlike her tears from the previous night escaping her throat.

"God, you're tight," he murmured, working his finger slowly in and out of her, simulating what she really, really wanted him to do with another, larger part of his body.

"It's been…four years. Plus a little," Rose managed to pant, squirming under his slow, deliberate assault. He was still leaning over her hips. She held out her hands to him, "Come up here. I want to kiss you."

"In a moment." Withdrawing his finger, which made her whimper in disappointment, he tasted the dew slicking his digit, first an experimental lick, then the whole thing. The sound that escaped from his throat let her know he liked it, so she wasn't at all surprised when he readjusted his position between her legs, shoving the covers completely down and out of his way. Bracing himself on elbows planted between her thighs, nudging them wide enough to accommodate his shoulders, Keane lowered his head to within an inch of her feminine center and held himself there, inhaling her scent. Anticipation made her tremble, until he closed the final gap. That made her breath hitch, as anticipation was fulfilled.

He nuzzled her, nudging open her folds, and tasted her again with a slow, leisurely lick. And another A moan escaped her every time he did that. He picked up his pace, nipping and nibbling, licking and suckling, pushing her up to the edge of pleasure with his skill and enthusiasm. It was an intensity of feelings she hadn't ever felt before, and it left her a whimpering, writhing wreck. Then he did her in, reaching up over the top of her thigh to tickle, ever so lightly, the crease between belly and thigh. Her climax exploded through her, arching her body rigidly with unbelievable pleasure, then shaking it with aftershocks as he kept at his first task, enjoying the fruits of his labor.

When he kept brushing that sensitive crease every once in a while, making her shudder, keeping her on the edge of an extended orgasm, Rose grabbed him by the hair. He finally left her alone with a grimace, crawling up the length of her trembling body. "You wanted something?"

"You." Releasing her fistful of dark locks, she cupped his head, bringing hers up to meet him. Their kiss was flavored with her passion. Rose thought it went well with the taste of him. Her other hand, she dragged down his chest, going from a firm touch to a light, tickling one by the time she reached his navel. He sucked in a sharp breath, catching her hand before it could reach its goal.

"Are you… Is it alright? Are you prepared?"

Rose didn't know what he was talking about. She glanced down between their bodies, illuminated by the soft light of morning filtering through the hotel curtains. His masculinity wasn't short or long, kind of average in length, but it was thick. The sight of it, rampant and ready, made her shiver in anticipation. The only thought in her head was, if he could make her orgasm with his mouth, then she couldn't wait to feel what he could to do her with *that*. "Go for it."

Sighing, he settled down against her. Flesh met flesh as his chest and stomach met her breasts and belly. Putting most of his weight on one elbow, he freed his hand to adjust himself against her. Or rather, to play the head of his manhood against the folds of her womanhood as he gave her another kiss. Rose groaned in pleasure against his lips, caressing his back and sides, tickling little ridges of skin that crossed his back. His breath caught and he twitched forward, letting her know he, too, had sensitive areas. He retaliated by brushing his thumb against her thigh crease, and when she gasped, ambushed by another orgasmic aftershock, he pushed into her. Her breath caught again, this time from the pain of being stretched, and her fingers clenched on his back. He kissed her, soothing her hair with his right hand. Easing back out a little, he worked himself in another inch. Steady, slow rocking, and within a minute, he was buried as deep as flesh could be joined.

Keane braced his weight on his elbows, looking down at her. "Four years, you said?"

"More or less."

"Not the ex-fiancé, I hope?" he asked her as they stayed locked together, giving her time to adjust to his thickness.

"No, that was six years ago. The last one was a friend," Rose admitted. For once, there wasn't enough room in her head to acknowledge the added-on thought that he was now long since dead, too, along with her jerk of a fiancé. Keane was just too damned distracting. Thankfully.

Keane quirked a brow, then grinned down at her. "So, this is your definition of friendship."

"Nope. This is friendship with the special options package," Rose quipped, and tapped him lightly on the chest. "You've been upgraded."

Laughing, he dipped down and kissed her, though it wasn't easy to do when she was giggling, too. So he gave up and nuzzled her neck and shoulders fiercely with little beast-like growls, tickling her with his hair and his lips and his fingers, making her shriek with laughter. She tried retaliating, tensing up from head to toe with laughter. He stopped suddenly, the growl in his throat vibrating for real as a groan. Rose relaxed, curious, then realized what had set him off. Experimentally, she tightened her inner muscles again, and only those muscles. A ragged grunt of pleasure escaped him, so she did it again. The last traces of laughter vanished from his face, wiped away by an intensity that could have been frightening, if she hadn't trusted him completely.

And she did trust him completely right now, Rose thought with wonder. Before she could think anything more, he withdrew almost all the way, then thrust back into the shelter of her body. Sheathing his stone-hard sword. The moment she thought of that bit of imagery, Rose giggled. Both of his brows rose at that.

"You find this funny?"

"I just found out why you call your mercenary company the 'stone swords'," she explained, still chuckling. If she had to be stuck on an alien planet filled with medieval enthusiasts, at least she could find something funny in her situation...as well as arousing.

A grin blossomed on his face. "Then allow me to sheathe myself, milady," Keane stated gallantly, slowly matching action to word. "Over, and over, and over…"

Each time, he angled his entrance slightly, just a little different from the one before. One hand reached down and encouraged her thigh up over his hip, which provided a new set of sensations. One of the angles he tried made her jump as he brushed up against…something inside of her. He did it again and Rose gasped, head arching back into the soft mattress, body tensing around him.

{Oh, god, that has to be my g-spot—I didn't think I had one!} Rose could barely believe it--and all this time, she'd thought the thing was a stupid myth!

This was no myth. Every time he thrust against it, she spasmed with pleasure. With her body tightening up against his at each stroke, his own enthusiasm increased, until she hitched her other leg up over his hip, using her muscles to encourage him as she dragged his mouth back to hers for a lingering, grateful kiss. Bracing himself over her, he thrust harder, faster, better, until just as she started shuddering into her climax, he shifted his weight and deliberately flicked his fingertip from hip to hip as he thrust unrelentingly against her g-spot.

Rose screamed with pleasure, everything on her arching body tightening to the point where she felt like it would snap. It dragged a groan out of Keane before he dropped and bit lightly but very possessively at the base of her throat, adding unbelievably to the passion she was experiencing. Grunting, he thrust raggedly, with little of the skill from before as he, too, exploded in pleasure.

When he did, Rose felt the results of his climax, each pulse a distinct liquid warmth drenching her insides. Shock almost robbed her of pleasure, but her orgasm was too intense to be denied. It swept through her, drowning thoughts of responsibility. And there was something undeniably erotic about having unprotected sex, of knowing that this time, it was being done the way it was intended to be done, for procreation as well as pleasure.

Her body certainly knew what to do as they came down from the pinnacle; her inner muscles twitched and contracted rhythmically, involuntarily, milking his flesh into hers as he collapsed on her, his weight barely braced on his elbows just enough to allow her to breathe. Every time her flesh contracted, he grunted and thrust slightly in an aftershock of his own, which only encouraged her tremors.

Finally, the cycle died down, leaving them limp, sated. Hungry for more. Finally, here was a reason for Rose to like being exiled on this backwater world.