The Erotic Expeditions - Complete Collection (6 page)

“Austin, are you okay?” she said, her voice shaking.

He slowly sat up and nodded.

“Yeah,” he ground out.

He didn’t sound okay but at least he was talking.

She quickly threw her hood back and ripped off her goggles. She did the same for him. He was wincing and holding his side.

“The wind,” he said.

“What’s the matter with your side?” she said, crouching in front of him.

He shook his head.

“Need to get out of these clothes,” he said and he started to stand.
 

She helped him to his feet but he was unsteady.

“Here,” she said, as she unzipped his parka.

She quickly stepped around him as he put his hand on the wall of the igloo for support. She took off one arm, then the other. Then she unbuttoned his shirt as his head nearly sank to his chest.

“Austin, stay with me,” she yelled.

He jerked his head up.

“I’m here,” he said.
 

She slid the shirt off him. His ribs were red and scratched and when she came around to the front, there was a bruise on his stomach already turning dark.

“Oh my god, what–”
 

He started to sway.

“No!” she said, as she quickly put her shoulder under his arm, her arm around his waist and moved toward the bearskins.
 

More of a controlled fall than anything else, she tried not to let him hit hard. In moments, they were both lying on the white fur. He had landed on his good side and his head settled down into the softness.

“So tired,” he murmured as his eyes closed.

“Austin?” she said and waited for a reaction. “Austin,” she tried again but more quietly.

She waited but there was only steady breathing.

Tired, he’d said. More like exhausted, she thought. His energy
wasn’t
endless.

She stared at his face. It seemed peaceful. She leaned down and put her ear against his chest. He was breathing deeply and his heart was beating strongly. She moved his heavy arm aside and checked his ribs. They were definitely bruised but, with the thick muscles, it was impossible to know if they were broken. She bent down to look at his stomach. The bruise was darkening, and it’d be bad, but it wasn’t spreading, not that she’d know what to do if it did. She sat back and took a deep breath.

What had happened out there?

And thank god he’d been so close to the entrance.

Finally, she got to her knees and unzipped his ski pants. The long side zippers made removing them a little easier but she eventually had to roll him onto his back and tug from the ankles to get them off. He never moved a muscle. Breathing hard from the exertion, she moved the backpacks and camera bag into the entrance, as he had, and then took off her sealskin clothing.

Quickly, she moved a bearskin to cover their naked bodies and laid down next to his good side, propping herself up on an elbow. She watched him intently for a few minutes, watching him breathe.

“Please be okay,” she whispered, as she stared into his face.
 

His eyes moved under the lids but they didn’t open. She took that as a good sign. He hadn’t seemed disoriented and he wasn’t cold.

She rested a hand on his chest and felt its easy rise and fall. He really did seem like he was just asleep. The slack muscles of his torso were still rounded but there was a smoothness to them when he slept. Somehow, he didn’t have that veined or angular look about him. Then it occurred to her what it was–baby fat. Well, not really baby fat, but his body was young. He hadn’t trimmed every ounce of fat the way that jocks sometimes did.

She left her hand on his chest and curled her bottom arm under her head. Austin was a puzzle. She gazed at his profile. Part Inuit he had said. The waves in his black hair must have come from the non-Inuit half. It was untrimmed and a little wild but it was thick and started to curl at the nape of his neck.

Suddenly, he took in a deep breath and she sat up. His eye movements said he was still dreaming. As she held her breath, his chest began to fall and he slowly exhaled. Then she exhaled as well.

It was going to be a long night.

• • • • •

Emily woke to him touching her. Her eyes opened and she was on her stomach but she couldn’t see him. She tried to roll the other way.

“No wait,” he said quickly, keeping her down.

“Austin,” she said, pushing against his hand. “Are you okay?”

The igloo was full of bright blue light. The storm must have passed and it was eerily quiet.

“I’m fine,” he said, that velvety tone back in his voice. “Just stay there for a second.”

She felt his fingers in the small of her back. They moved slowly and purposefully.

“Austin?” she tried again but his hand held her firmly in place.

“How did you get dimples here?” he said.

“What?” she said, finally turning her head to look at him.

“These dimples. How did you get them?”

He was naked and the bruise on his stomach had turned purple.

“Oh my god, that bruise!” she exclaimed.
 

At the anxiety in her voice, he quickly withdrew his hand and sat back, kneeling on his lower legs.

She sat up and also came to her knees, facing him, their knees touching. She gently touched the skin next to the bruise.

“How much does it hurt?” she asked, staring at it.

“It doesn’t,” he said.

She’d expected him to try to be strong and say it wasn’t bad but to say it didn’t hurt at all, that wasn’t right. She sat back and looked at him.

“What do you mean
it doesn’t
? It has to.”

He gave a little shrug.

She frowned and then remembered his ribs. Slowly, she lifted his arm.
 

“How are your ribs?”

“The ribs?” he said looking down at them. “I’d already forgotten about them.”

“
Forgotten?
”

She peered at the marks there. They weren’t nearly as bad as the bruise.

“I don’t even feel those,” he said.

She stared into his face, starting to feel frustrated. He was taking the whole ‘strong’ thing a bit far.

“Austin, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he said, frowning. “Really. It’s nothing.”

She looked pointedly down at the deep purple bruise. It was most definitely not
nothing
. She remembered when she’d seen it for the first time–then the fear when he’d collapsed. Her fingers were digging into her own thighs.

“Please don’t make light of it,” she whispered. “I was terrified.”

His face was immediately pained.

“I’m not making light of it,” he said. “I wouldn’t do that.”

He gazed directly in her eyes.

“I wouldn’t,” he said again. “I really had just stopped thinking about it.”

There was something very serious in his voice and for a moment, she thought he might continue but he didn’t.

He’d stopped thinking about it? About pain? How did that even make sense?

She struggled to understand–to understand him. She still didn’t know what had happened outside but, at the moment, it didn’t matter. Last night she thought she’d lost him.

Slowly, she reached her hands up to his solemn face. She hadn’t meant to make him feel bad. In fact, it was the
last
thing in the world she wanted.

“About last night,” he said lowly. “You saved–”

“Don’t ever thank me for that,” she breathed and suddenly, her lips were on his.
 

This
was the only thing that mattered–he was safe and here with her. Relief, mixed with desire and a lingering frustration, fueled her kiss. She ran her fingers into his hair and moved her mouth urgently over his.
 

His surprise slowly gave way to a response as he rose up on his knees. His hands moved to her back and he pulled her closer. Though he tried to end the kiss, she couldn’t stop. She tilted her chin up to him and her head the other way and worked furiously on his lips, her nose pushing into his cheek, her hands still grasping his hair. He dragged in air through his nose and his eyes fluttered in confusion.
 

As waves of emotion surged through her, only one thing remained clear–she couldn’t lose him. The thought of it made her want to scream.
 

But instead of screaming, she moaned into his mouth.
 

She felt his sudden stiffness between them but still she couldn’t break the kiss. He seemed as though he weren’t breathing as she went deeper. She forced his mouth open, felt his jaw drop, and saw his eyes close. Her tongue explored him with desperate movements, lashing his. Finally, her lungs began to ache and she had to breathe.

His hands were at the sides of her face as the two of them gasped. As their breath mingled in a white mist between then, his eyes bored into hers as though he were trying to see something. But she only stopped long enough to catch her breath as her mouth sought his again.

“Emily,” he said quietly, holding her firm, still looking into her eyes. “Could we…”

Breathing hard, her arms around his neck, she paused.

“Can I…,” he tried again and stopped, as his chest rose and fell.

He looked so serious.

“What?” she breathed.

He looked down between them.

“Can I be on top?” he finally whispered.

His little boy sweetness hit her then. It had been a simple question and yet it was the thing that made him so devastating–his innocence. He had no idea how utterly attractive he was.
 

But the question still hung in the air between them.

Slowly, she slid her arms from around his neck. Reluctantly, he released his hold of her back, his face still a question. But as she began to sit back and then lay back, her intention became clear. He immediately moved with her. On hands and knees, he moved over her, his chest and arms flexing as he moved his narrow hips into position.

Her hands went to the back of his arms as his hands landed on the bearskin above her shoulders. She watched him as he looked down at himself and felt him between her legs. As he began to lower himself, he looked at her and then at her breasts. As though he’d just realized where he was, he quickly bent his head down to her and covered a nipple with his mouth.

She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. The warm moistness was so unlike the rest of him. His tongue moved as though he could taste her. Then, as though it were a paintbrush, his tongued circled the hardening nipple, pushing it one way, then the other. Her mouth opened as her head involuntarily tilted back and she gasped. Suddenly, his tongue pressed down in the center of the nipple. Her back arched and her hips began to move.

She felt his harsh breaths against her neck and felt the weight of him on her. He had gotten on his elbows. She opened her eyes to his enormous chest looming over her. His arousal was seeking her and she tried to help but her hips were already pumping. She clutched his back, her heart pounding. His hardness was sliding up nearer, hot on her inner thigh. Then it was on the mound and her hips moved faster trapping it between them.

His hips jerked in response.

No, she thought. Not like this.
Slow down.

Though it felt like holding back a tidal wave, she slowly pressed the small of her back into the fur. Her hips rose and she widened her legs just as the tip of his arousal found its mark.

He thrust.

• • • • •

As he slid in, his breath caught and he heard Emily try to say ‘yes’ but only with partial success. He’d slipped completely inside her, only stopped by their collision. Her entire body was moved by the soft thud and he quickly followed it with another, eliciting tiny guttural sounds each time.

Her hips ground against him with each impact as well. Even though he’d held back, worried that it’d be too forceful, her reaction said otherwise. Again, he thrust into her and, again, air escaped her parted lips as she gyrated beneath him.

He closed his eyes and thrust again as she enveloped him. He marveled at the softness gliding by. He drew back and thrust again. A tingling sensation spread along his length. This wasn’t like the first time. He was in control. Each time he entered her was different and yet the same. He thrust again.

He wanted it to never end but he found his pelvis ramping up of its own accord. He opened his eyes and looked down at her. Her breath was coming in small gasps now and her eyes were closed. He felt her rib cage and abdomen against his stomach, felt her hips moving against his. Her fingers dug hard into his back and then his waist, constantly moving.
 

His climax was nearing and he tried to move with her but his thrusts were rapidly increasing. He couldn’t tell if she was close but he knew the timing was off. Her breasts were too far away from his mouth, now that he was fully inside her–and he couldn’t think of withdrawing. Not now. Not ever.

He felt himself thicken at the thought of forever. His abdomen tightened as he curved over her. His back arched as his thrusts seemed to sink even deeper. He couldn’t bear for it to end but he’d go mad if it didn’t. Then, he had no choice.

The air rushed out of his lungs as though he’d been struck. The quick pivot of his hips pinned hers and he felt a hot release as he suddenly hunched.

“E-mi-ly,” he exhaled hoarsely as his release climaxed.

He squeezed his eyes shut and every muscle of his body froze. Only his throbbing thickness moved, pulsing in waves.

Then came the smaller hip spasms as he finally sucked in a breath. Free to move, her hips flared to life.

• • • • •

When he had landed on her, she came to an immediate stop. Her eyes flew open at his sudden weight and she saw his body arched, completely convulsed, over hers. His mouth was slowly forming her name and the muscles of his neck, his chest, and his abdomen stood out in a frozen moment.

“E-mi-ly,” he whispered, his voice pitched higher than normal, anguish in each syllable.

He had planted himself so deeply that she felt his throbbing in her navel. Waves of it spread inside her and then his groin crushed her sweet spot. Although her hips couldn’t move, she had to arch.