He withdrew partially, then thrust back into her again. This time there was less stretching, and she smiled up at him.

"You feel so good," she whispered.

"You feel pretty damn good yourself," he muttered, kissing her again, hard and quick. He started moving within her, and after a second she reached around him with her legs, locking her ankles behind his back. The new angle let him come into her more fully; they both moaned.

Down he thrust, his c**k scraping against her clit with each movement, and the tendrils of sensation and lust within her grew. Again and again, harder with every stroke. The pressure was growing within her, and she squeezed her inner muscles in anticipation. He grunted in response, dropping his head down to her shoulder. His breathing was harsh in her ear, and he moved faster against her. They strained against each other; coordinating their movements so that each time he came down into her flesh it rocked her back into the mattress.

She was getting closer. She could feel the tension winding tight between her legs. He was moving so fast against her that she could hardly keep the pace, each thrust hitting bottom, each motion rubbing her clit harder againsthim. Then he started moving his hips in a circular motion, grinding against her clit and stirring his c**k within her. She closed her eyes and threw back her head, every muscle in her body stiffening. He gasped against her neck and she squeezed him, arms, legs and cunt, trying to wring the last bit of sensation out of him that she needed to push her over the edge.

Then her orgasm exploded, and she came with a deep, ragged moan that worked its way from low in her belly out into the night air. She clenched him, spasming, and he thrust against her hard. A sharp pain cut through her, and she realized that he was biting her shoulder, groaning into her flesh as his own orgasm ripped through him. She could feel the hot spurts of his seed hitting her, and she raised her hips to cradle him more closely. She wanted to pull him into her, take possession of him, and bind him to her…

They stayed like that for several minutes, panting in the darkness. Slowly, he allowed his weight to shift off of her, and rolled to her side. She felt his fingers touching her shoulder lightly, then he spoke.

"I bit you," he said, seemingly startled by his own actions. "I have no idea why I did that. I'm sorry, Sarai. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't," she replied, realizing it was true. His bite had stung, still throbbed a bit, but somehow it had fit in with the moment. Almost as if he had been marking her as his. Her mind shied away from this strange thought—it was too much to think about right now. He would be gone in a few weeks, so she needed to take pleasure in the moment.

"Well, I'm still sorry," he said, kissing the injured spot with soft warmth.

"That's all right," she whispered, nuzzling into his shoulder. She was suddenly very tired. Time to go to sleep…Jax cuddled her against his body, then pulled the covers over them. In the darkness outside the sliding door, she could hear the insects and small night creatures chittering and scurrying about. She drifted off to sleep, content in her decision. Having a man around, however temporarily, was going to be all right.

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She awoke early in the morning, hearing a muffled snoring next to her ear. For a moment she couldn't move, and panic filled her. Something was pinning her down, something heavy. She realized it was Jax, who had sprawled out on the bed, draping his arm and leg across her. She pushed at him with one arm, and he obediently rolled over on his back, still sleeping.

She was free.

She sat up a little, looking at him in the early-morning light. It was amazing to her that this man, so handsome and strong, seemed to want her, of all people. She leaned over him, examining his face closely.

There was dark stubble along his jaw, and he was all sharp angles. There was no softness, even in his sleep, yet he had bought her daughter a doll at the spaceport, and a nightgown for her. He certainly seemed to have some softness inside of him.

She tried to sit up a little more, and realized that her unbuttoned shift was pinning her down. She slipped it off her shoulders, then moved closer to him. She let one hand touch the line of his collarbone, then slowly traced it down his body. He was a soldier, she had always known that. But this was the first time she'd really taken the time to look at his body.

There were several scars, small ones that were little more than white lines, and one large one on his side. She touched it in wonder, amazed that he had survived. It was as if someone had melted the skin there, superheating it and twisting it. Blaster fire? she wondered. She had never seen a wound like this, but it had to have been terrible.

She trailed her hand a bit lower, pushing the blanket that covered him down with it. She touched the planes of his stomach, taut with muscle. There was no extra flesh on him, only hardness. He seemed so relaxed around her and the children that at times it was hard to imagine what his life must really be like.

He said he wanted to stay with her, but he was a soldier. There was no way he'd be content living and working in a hostel on a backwater planet.

A twinge of sadness came over her, and for the first time she allowed herself to consider how nice it would be to have a man like Jax around. Someone to hold her, to teach Able how to be a man.

Someone to show Mali that not all men were like her father had been. Someone who would love them not hurt them.

That couldn't happen, of course.

She trailed her fingers along his stomach, watching the tiny black hairs trailing down from his navel stand up under her touch. That wasn't the only thing that was standing, she realized. Directly below her hand, under the covers, his c**k was coming to life. She stole a look up at his face, but he was still sound asleep. She wondered if he was dreaming of being touched; if he was dreaming of her. She stifled a giggle, feeling silly and happy all of a sudden. She had been denying herself any joy for so long. It felt good to relax, to enjoy another person's company.

Keeping as quiet as possible, she lifted the covers and pushed them lower, revealing his partially erect penis. It was flushed, hardening before her eyes, lolling to one side. The head was a darker red than the rest, a mushroom-shaped helmet that seemed almost to be watching her, waiting for her touch. She touched one finger to it delicately. His skin there was so soft. She rubbed her finger back and forth along the edge, mesmerized by its silky smoothness.

He was definitely growing harder. Where his c**k had lolled to one side before, now it was straightening. The head grew more flushed as she continued her gentle stroking, and a tiny bit of fluid beaded up on the tip. It gleamed in the early-morning sunlight, and she was struck with a sudden curiosity about what it tasted like.




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