So undeserved…
She tilted her head back to catch his attention and demand he let her loose, only for his lips to descend. He captured hers for a kiss, stealing her breath, igniting her senses, flooding her with pleasure. Every part of her suddenly sprang to life, reminding her of what she’d deprived herself for eons. Should she allow herself to enjoy this moment? Had she not punished herself enough?
She parted her lips, and he deepened the embrace, tasting and teasing, his tongue a decadent delight. The taste of him ambrosia to someone so long parched for affection.
His grip loosened, but she didn’t push away. Rather her arms looped around his neck, keeping her close, reveling in the feel of him against her. His hands slid from her back, stroking down her spine until he could cup her buttocks, pulling her that she might feel his erect interest.
It added fuel to her already smoldering passion. He kept one hand on her ass, but the other teased under the hem of her shirt, and at the touch of his calloused fingers on her flesh, she sucked in a breath, leading him to murmur, “Should I stop?”
A part of her screamed she shouldn’t enjoy herself while so many still slumbered, while her world remained ruined. She told the self-flagellating martyr to shut the fuck up. She needed this, like a flower needed sun. Let her have a reason to want to keep forging on.
She kissed him for a reply, gripping him tight, almost frantic with the slide of her lips on his.
With that permission, her shirt ended up being stripped and tossed aside, letting his hands roam her upper body without impediment. Every nerve ending awakening and tingling. All of her roused in anticipation—and need.
She tugged at his shirt, wanting the sensation of his flesh against hers. He practically tore it in his impatience, growling, “Stripping should be easier in a dream.”
She almost laughed, might have except he pressed his chest to hers, the friction of it against her breasts making her knees weak, forcing her to cling to his broad shoulders lest she fall to the floor in a boneless heap.
When he leaned her back, breaking the kiss that he might use his mouth on her breasts, she gasped and grabbed at his hair. The tug of his lips on her nipples, a jolt felt between her legs.
He lavished her breasts with attention, leaving her panting and moaning.
He lay her on the bed, but rather than join her right away, he removed her pants, leaving her bared to him. The admiration in his gaze had her sex clenching. As for her, she drank in his muscled chest, the way his waist narrowed into a vee that disappeared below his waistband, the bulge at his groin.
He joined her on the bed, his lips capturing hers as he slid a hand between her thighs, his fingers parting her slick folds, teasing her.
He teased his finger back and forth, the friction a rhythm her hips matched. He abandoned her lips, but only so he could kneel between her legs.
She couldn’t help but glance at him, her lids heavy with desire. His expression stole her breath. Intent. Ardent.
He spread her thighs wide enough to settle between and even placed one over his shoulder, exposing her fully to him. He licked his lips as if he hungered. He then feasted, face buried against her sex, his lips tugging her nether lips, his tongue teasing her wetly.
He lapped, quick flicks of his tongue against her clitoris that immediately had her trembling. When he grazed his teeth over her clit, she arched upward, crying out in pleasure.
He folded an arm over her lower belly to anchor her in place and continued his oral tease, stroking with his tongue, sucking at her sensitive button.
She could only thrash and moan as the pressure built. Tremble and tighten as her body neared its peak.
When he thrust a finger into her then a second, pumping her needy channel, she couldn’t help but cry out and clench and come.
Her orgasm rippled through her, a taut band snapping and relieving her of a tension she’d not noticed until it was gone. As he softened his licking, aftershocks went through her, along with a boneless sensation. She floated. Her body more relaxed than she could ever recall.
As he shifted to come lie beside her, she expected him to take his pleasure, would have welcomed the feel of him inside her. To her surprise, he rolled her to her side and dragged her into his body, spooning her from behind. Holding her. Murmuring, “Thank you for that gift.”
Cradled in his embrace, he didn’t see the silent tears that rolled, not from regret. Never regret. They came from the realization she’d intentionally punished herself all those centuries, and for what? Only she recalled the trauma. Only she blamed herself. No one would have known or cared if she’d given up on Mars. Those who slept had gone into stasis knowing they might never wake. The ones who evacuated to Earth had long since forgotten their roots.
And yet, she’d chosen to punish herself. To force herself to live apart. To never allow anyone close. To never take pleasure in anything.
Time for her move on, especially since she now saw a chance to finally atone for her mistakes, not by reviving a world that couldn’t be saved. Mars, the way she’d known it, would never come back. But maybe there was still a chance for Earth.
As an idea began to percolate, still inside her dream, she fell asleep in Reece’s arms and woke in the same position in her bed on Mars. Spooned against Reece. A man with too much honor, who deserved to live. And it was up to her to make sure he didn’t sacrifice his life for an impossible dream.
CHAPTER 12
When Reece woke,he barely dared to breathe. Ishtar lay nestled in his arms, just like she’d relaxed against him in the dream—which turned out to be the best one he’d ever had. It allowed him to see a softer side to Ishtar, and he tasted her desire, quite literally.
Now, however, he feared her reaction when she roused. Would she be angry? Regretful, or…roll over in his arms and purr, “Well, that was unexpectedly pleasant.”
