Authors: Sabrina York
RisingGreen (4 page)
“I’m so wet.” She guided his hand beneath the band of her
panties.
God. White cotton. Just like he’d imagined. She pressed him
against her slit and he felt it, felt her. Slick. Thick. Hot as hell.
He could wait no longer.
With a crazed arm, he swiped the papers and files from his
desk and settled her on it. Ripping those panties from her cunt, he bent and
lapped at a nectar he had only dreamed of before now. Her clit was rigid,
throbbing, nearly squirming with delight beneath his tongue. He sucked it into
his mouth and drew on her. Hard.
A great glob of cream oozed from her pussy. He dabbed at it,
spread it around then slipped his fingers—three of them—inside her velvet
haven. Jesus. So sweet. So tight. So wet. Her heat scorched him.
Enough of this shit. She was ready, and he was aching and
full.
He lifted her knees, opened her wide. And then, using
nothing but instinct, homed in on heaven. And holy crap. It was heaven. She
wrapped her silky cunt lips around him and tightened, groaning and thrashing as
he delved deeper and deeper still.
He couldn’t still his hips. Of their own accord, they began
to thrust. Magnificent. She held nothing back and neither did he. Harder and
harder, he plunged, deeper and deeper.
His cock began to weep. His balls tightened and his muscles
tensed, certain of the fulfillment to come. And then…
And then something wrapped around his shaft. Something
slender and slick. It held him in an agonizingly pleasurable vise. That
something tongued him, licked at the head of his cock. And pressed in.
He cried out in agony, exquisite agony, as
whatever it
was
entered him. He felt it, that tendril skirling into his penis and twining
down his shaft to coil, to nest in his balls. He came at the sensation,
exploded with a wash of ecstasy so overpowering he thought he’d lost his mind.
The feeling, whatever it had been, the fullness inside him,
waned, leaving him in the grip of an unbelievable pleasure.
And then she came and it washed over him again. That, and
the deep satisfaction of knowing he’d finally—finally—had her.
Epilogue
Lieutenant Amy Kittredge fisted her hands on her hips and
stared out at the yard. With the exception of the rust-red stains on the rocks,
the puddles of blood still soaking into the sand, all evidence of the massacre
had been tagged and bagged and stored in the evidence locker aboard the
Wastrel.
Private Dawson stepped out of the barracks with a clipboard
under his arm.
“Find anything interesting?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “Nothing to indicate what happened here.
For all intents and purposes, this was a pretty standard scientific
expedition.”
“That went to shit.” Kittredge snorted and flicked a glance
to the rocky horizon. With the exception of a patch of weeds near the barracks
door, it was a barren wasteland. What Cosmicorp had found worth studying here
was a mystery to her. Then again, who gave a shit? She was just here to do her
job. “Find any more survivors?”
Dawson grimaced. “Just the two. Poor bastards.”
Kittredge shrugged. “They’re feeling no pain.”
“Yeah. But you gotta wonder. What puts a guy into a coma
and
gives him a priapism?”
“Not our problem.” The victims, or in this case, the
survivors—Daniel Sampson and Riley Spencer—were tucked away in cotton wool on
the Wastrel’s sick bay, raging hard-ons and all. What had happened to them,
well, that wasn’t her concern.
The company didn’t want to know what caused one—or
more—member of this team to go ape-shit crazy and slaughter most of the camp.
The company wanted the site scrubbed. And that was what she’d do.
“Let’s finish up here and get back to the ship.” But as she
turned, a sudden flash of light caught her attention.
She made her way over the rocky yard to the pile of weeds
beside the barracks. Whatever it was glinted in the weak sunlight once more.
Kittredge knelt next to the stalky flower and probed the twining vines. And
felt something hard. Metallic.
She dug at it but the weeds held it tight, as though they
didn’t want to let it go.
“What’d you find?” Dawson moved closer.
“I dunno.” Kittredge pulled out her Swiss Army knife and
opened the blade. Sawing at the vines, she released the object. “Huh.”
“What is it?”
“A watch.” She turned it over in her palm. Read the
inscription. “Who’s Sage?”
Dawson consulted the list on his clipboard. “Sage Green?
Looks like she was the team’s botanist.”
“Botanist. Huh.”
“The only female on the expedition.”
“Really. Did we find her body?”
“Not a trace.”
“That’s odd.”
Dawson snorted. “Everything about this is odd.”
True. Her team had scrubbed some of the most fucked-up
incidents on the planet but this one was the strangest by far. It was like all
the men—except the two in comas, of course—had gone crazy and ripped each other
to pieces. And the one female in the middle of this chaos…nowhere to be found.
Well, fuck. Not her problem.
Kittredge glanced at the flower, the one at the end of the
long stalk sprouting from the nest of weeds in which she knelt. It was at eye
level. It had the strangest scent, something alluring and primal. Something
familiar that made her mouth water. It kind of reminded her of…sperm. She
leaned closer.
The flower was a deep red, with bright-yellow streaks. It
curled into a tight waxy ball but when she touched it, stroked its soft petals,
the flower began to open.
Kittredge sat back on her knees and stared, fascinated. She
was hardly a flower person but this was amazing. She’d never seen anything like
it.
Tipping her head, she leaned closer.
And the bud exploded.
About the Author
Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, writes naked erotic fiction
for fans who like it hot, hard and balls-to-the-wall, and erotic romance and
fantasy for readers who prefer a slow burn to passion. An award-winning author
in multiple genres, Sabrina loves writing hot, humorous stories in all kinds of
settings.
Sabrina York welcomes comments from readers. You can find
her website and email addresses on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
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Also by
Sabrina York
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Rising Green
ISBN 9781419939815
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Rising Green Copyright © 2012 Sabrina York
Edited by Carrie Jackson
Cover design by Syneca
Photo: Gabi Mosa/Shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication July 2012
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