Page 247 of Starside

We’ve fought and battled and argued this entire journey and now every ounce of tension is being worked out, thoroughly, as if this is its own duel, its own language, and my entire body is going taut, then loose, and I’m tightening around him, and he’s groaning. He’s gripping my hips, and the world could be crumbling around me, and I wouldn’t even notice, I’m too lost in this pulsing, insistent, desperate madness. He’s giving me everything I need without me even having to ask for it.

One hand still firm on my hip, his knuckles slowly trail up the curve of my side, to my waist, his long fingers opening one by one, curling around the base of my ribs, then gently stroking the shape of me, like I’m a map he wants to memorize.

Chills erupt across my heated skin, and he touches all of them, feeling how my body responds to his, learning how to make me prickle even more, studying me not like an enemy he wants to conquer, but like an opponent he wants to surrender to. His thrusts are hard and fast, hammering into me like he wants me to see stars, but his fingers are featherlight. He’s touching my body with the care and reverence he’s only ever reserved for his sword, like I’m more precious than its metal, like I’m more dangerous than its edge, like he wants to claim me more than any other weapon.

Then his hand is in my hair, and he groans as he touches the long strands, rubbing them between his fingers. “I was right,” he says, curving over me, mouth at my ear. “This is dangerous.” It’s what he said in the Traveling City, when he saw it down for the first time. He meant because it was a risk during dueling.

Now, he takes all of it in his fist—and pulls. My lips part. His grip is light, not enough to hurt at all, but the possessive move makes my mind spin. Because this isn’t about either of us giving in. I see that now. No, this is just like when our blades meet. Two equal forces, coming together. A push and pull that merges into a perfect joining.

This pleasure is gleaming, ruinous, and I know in my blood it wouldn’t be like this with anyone else. I don’t just want this. I want him.

My arms reach back, wrapping around his neck, arching against him, nipples still pressed to the cold wall, pinned between him and the cave, and he molds to me, until his entire body is flush with mine. I’m on my toes, his legs against my thighs, keeping me upright. His hands are back on my hips, fucking me onto him, finding a place that makes a jolt of pleasure race up my spine with every thrust, and I choke out his name. He does it again. Faster. My eyes close tightly against the surging wave of pleasure.

“Like that?” he says.

This time, I nod against him.

That’s not good enough. He reaches for my throat, thumb gently stroking where his teeth sank into my skin, and says, “I need your words, Aris,” his deep voice echoing, vibrating through my blood. “Please.”

Fuck. I never thought I would hear him beg.

So, I give him what he wants.

“Yes,” I say, looking up at him. His forehead is leaned against the cave wall. He’s staring down at me like he doesn’t ever want to look anywhere else. His mouth is just inches away. “Just like that, Harlan.”

His fingers dig into my hip and throat—and then he unleashes, dragging against that gleaming place in a ruinous, unyielding pace. I cry out, lightning spearing through my veins, and he growls his approval. He keeps going and going like it’s his sole purpose in life to get me over the edge, like he wants to test just how much pleasure I can take.

I need to taste him. We’re facing the same direction, and my head is tilted up, his is down, but my fingers fist his hair, and I pull his mouth to mine, and—

This angle shouldn’t work. But my tongue brushes his lips and he groans when it meets his. The kiss is messy, and insistent, and he’s holding me to his mouth by the throat, he’s tasting me like he can’t get enough, and I could die from this. From the perfect stretch of him desperately filling every aching part of me, from the sound of his moans in my mouth, from the all-consuming feel of him. He kisses me until I can’t think, I can’t breathe, and then I suck on his bottom lip, licking and stroking, biting him like he bit me, marking him, until another wave of pleasure rolls through me and I release him.

His eyes have darkened into ink. He looks half-crazed. Enraptured. He looks a moment from losing his fucking mind, like I control his sanity, and I’m about to snap its final string.

“Aris,” he says, his voice a tortured rasp. “You will be the fucking end of me.”

“Harlan,” I breathe. “If only.” Our gazes are locked. I throw my head back. His name is on my lips as my desire crests.

Then I’m falling back onto my heels again. Before I can miss his fullness, he’s turning me back around, and lifting me to his height, and my legs are around him, and he’s pushing into me again, and—

His mouth crashes against mine in a brutal kiss that’s all teeth and smothered gasps, and this, this is how I want to finish, with me facing him. I’m close, and he seems to know it. His hand reaches down, thumb stroking me toward the edge of this cliff, until I’m on its brink, trembling with pleasure that’s ready to pull me under. I try to fight it, give myself more time, bucking my hips, chasing this desire until its very end.

Now, it’s his back against the wall. His forehead is pressed to mine. He’s not even moving anymore, he’s just watching me ride him, watching me take what I need, watching my thighs tremble as I stave off my release, as I curse because this feels too fucking good.

I try to take him deeper, but it’s hard at this angle, and—

I don’t even have to say a word. All it takes is a fold in my brow, and he’s sliding to the floor, pulling me down with him, and I’m bracing my hands on his wide shoulders as I move on him. Better. Much better. He’s curved, leaned close, watching me ride him needily, desperately. I’m panting right against his mouth.

“I still hate you,” I gasp.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I say, breathing hard. “I hate you so much.”

His hands tighten around my hips.

“Good. Hate me harder, Aris.”

The same words he said as we dueled. Hate. Me. Harder.