Forged (Star Breed #10) - Elin Wyn Page 0,41

my waist.

“I think I’m awake now,” he growled, and in one swift motion rolled over, pinning me beneath him.

Then his eyes flew open. “Why the hell are you still wearing any clothing?”

Hakon

Clothing swiftly dealt with, I returned my attention to where it belonged.

Yasmin.

“Even when we’re just walking, I can feel you under my hands,” I murmured as I kneaded one breast, rolling the rosy pebbled nipple between my thumb and forefinger. “Your silken skin at my fingers.”

As if desperate to wring every bit of sweetness from her, I plundered her mouth with my tongue.

Yasmin groaned wordlessly, body arching beneath my touch.

“I can always taste you,” I nipped at that sweet intersection of her neck and shoulder, worked down to take her tight bud into my mouth.

“Hakon, stop teasing,” she moaned as I slid further down, tracing the line of her hip, the delicate fold where her leg met her body.

“You’re always in my thoughts now.” Sliding my fingers through her slick folds, I paused for a minute, sucking and nibbling at her clit, savoring the moment, how she lay open and willing before me, then I plunged a finger into her tight channel.

Yasmin shrieked, heels drumming against my back. I drove on, pushing her closer to the edge until she went rigid, shuddering, coming undone in my arms.

Crawling back up over her chest, I propped myself up on my elbows as I brushed dark strands of hair from her softened face, watching her eyes regain focus.

“Listening to you come undone only makes me want you more,” I said, nudging the straining bulk of my cock against her swollen mound.

She trembled under me, her pink tongue darting out to lick her lips. Placing her feet flat, she lifted her hips, just enough to rub against my cock.

“That’s good,” she purred as her arms twined around my neck, pulling me down to her. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

She rocked against me again and any control I had was lost, shattered against my need to have her, claim her. Sinking into her wet heat, I groaned when she tightened around me.

Mad with need and desire, I rammed into her until we both roared our release, falling tangled into the sheets.

With the last of my strength, I managed to roll over, carrying her with me so she lay draped across my chest, panting.

Even with the fresh sheets, the room had still held the faint ghost of its former occupant, a trace of his scent.

But not anymore.

The very air was full of Yasmin.

Of us.

And I liked it that way.

“Waking you up is going to be an exhausting prospect,” she said, chuckling softly.

“Only because you’re so tempting.” For a moment, I thought she’d fallen asleep, relaxed and drowsy.

But then she sat up, brushed her hair back, and began to braid it back away from her face.

“The pressurization check should be done by now,” she said. “Want to come see if I’m missing anything?”

Not really, I thought to myself. Not in the slightest.

Even if it was the practical thing to do.

“You’re a competent engineer,” I said as I searched for my clothing among the bedding that somehow had ended up all over the floor.

“Just competent?” Yasmin shot back, throwing her braid back over her shoulder.

I tossed her coverall top at her. “There’s not a good answer to that, is there?”

“Probably not.” Then lines of worry marred her forehead. “I just can’t figure it out. If there’s something wrong with the engines, I’m not seeing it. And if there’s not, then why is this ship still here?” She shrugged into the top. “I don’t want us to solve that particular mystery when we’re halfway back to Station 112 and something blows.”

Stepping into the corridor, we headed back to that cramped engine compartment. “After this, we can check atmospheric pressure, see if we’re space worthy. And then, fire up those engines.”

Yasmin pulled the hatch up for the engine compartment and I shook my head. “There is no way I’m fitting down there.”

She looked at me, looked at the compartment.

Blinked.

“Right.”

Together we removed more of the deck until I was able to awkwardly crouch in the tight little space. “I’d like to have a word with whoever designed this ship’s configuration,” I grumbled.

“I’m sure they weren’t expecting you to come visiting.”

But all the hassle was for nothing. “Everything looks fine to me,” I said, slipping the last casing back into place. “Let’s put the floor back together and check the readings from the front.”

They looked fine, too.

And atmosphere had