Unable to control himself, he thrust against her back violently. In that instant she came, squealing, her ass cheeks tightening around his bulging cock. The squeeze was so strong it was almost painful. He thrust once more, then his own orgasm hit him. He gasped; clutching her pelvis to him so hard there would be bruises in the morning, and spraying his seed into the fabric of her shift. Again and again he jerked against her in ecstasy, grunting harshly into the mass of her hair.
Gradually the sensations faded, and he loosened his grip on her body. Neither of them spoke in the darkness. He had lost control; he'd had no intention of coming himself. His entire goal had been to give her pleasure, not to explode all over her like an untried youth. He would make it up to her.
Gently moving away from her, he pulled her damp shift over her head and threw it on the floor. Then he rolled her onto her back and leaned over her, propping himself up on one arm. She stared up at him with a dazed expression. A wave of smug pleasure washed through him. She'd been as affected by his touch as he'd been by hers, regardless of his lack of control. She opened her mouth and took in a breath, preparing to speak.
Before she could say anything, he covered her mouth with his. His tongue swept in, exploring her depths. His fingers found her clit again, still dripping and hot from her orgasm. She reacted to his touch instantly, her hips rising under his touch and her arms reaching up to clench his shoulders.
He thrust his fingers into her hot opening roughly, this time without the fabric to separate them. She was slippery and wet, pulling him to her. He lifted his mouth from hers, and she stared up at him, eyes pleading for another release.
"Please," she whispered. "I need—"
He cut her off with another long, slow kiss, all the while working her clit and exploring her cunt. She squirmed against him, moaning into his mouth. Then he sat up abruptly and stepped off the bed.
Wrapping one hand around each of her ankles, he pulled her body toward the edge, kneeling between her spread legs. Draping one leg over each of his shoulders, he leaned forward and touched his tongue to her clit.
Delicately, he parted the folds of her flesh, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub. He opened his mouth wider and sucked gently. She squirmed and bucked against him, her entire body shivering.
"That feels so good," she gasped. He paused, looking up to find her leaning back on her arms and watching him. The sight of her, flushed with passion, her lips bruised by his kiss, was incredibly erotic, but it wasn't enough. He wanted her screaming, losing control and begging him to f**k her.
His head dipped again, his lips and tongue tugging harder on her flesh. Again and again he thrust his tongue into her willing flesh, until she dropped back against the bed and started bucking against him. He wrapped his arms up and around her legs, holding her steady and renewed his attack.
She was twisting and moaning so much that he could tell she was getting close to her completion. He stabbed into her with a series of tongue thrusts, then started wiggling his tongue back and forth against her stiffened clit. She shrieked, her entire body tensing, and came with a heave of her hips against his mouth.
He pulled her down into his arms, cradling her body against his and kissing her forehead and face. She was drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. With shock, Jax realized she was crying. He pressed her head to his chest as a series of sobs shook her body. What the hell was going on? He'd been trying to please her, not make her cry.
Carefully lifting her limp body, he laid her in the bed and crawled in next to her, pulling her against him.
She cried in silence for a while, then snuffled noisily, turning her head away from him.
"Let's go to sleep," she said finally, to his surprise. Didn't she want to talk? Women always wanted to talk, especially when they'd been crying. He was out of his depth.
"Sarai, I think—" he started to say, but she cut him off.
"No, I just want to go to sleep," she said. "I said you could touch me. Talking wasn't part of the deal, so shut up."
She was right. Talking hadn't been part of the deal.
Eventually her breathing evened out and he could tell she really was asleep. His own rest was harder to find, his thoughts racing as the hours passed. If he couldn't win her over with sex and she wouldn't even talk to him, what chance did he have of convincing her to stay with him?
Three weeks, he reminded himself. Three weeks, and then he was bound to leave. There had to be a way to convince her she needed him as much as he needed her. He just had to find it.
Chapter Three
Sarai slid slowly and quietly out of Jax's embrace. He was sleeping deeply, his sooty black eyelashes resting against his cheeks. She'd awakened to find him holding her close, his body wrapped around hers protectively. It felt good to be held, something she hardly dared admit to herself. She felt safe in his arms.
It was a feeling she couldn't let herself get used to.
His touch last night had shattered her control, forcing her to face up to the reality that she wasn't complete and independent in herself. It made her feel weak, useless. Maybe she really was the kind of woman who needed a man to survive…No. She was more than that, and she couldn't let herself forget it.
She padded over to the chest of drawers where she kept her clothes and pulled out a fresh dress. Many of the women on Hector Prime wore jumpsuits or pants, just like the men, but her own upbringing had been more conservative. Despite the fact that she had left the Pilgrim way of life behind for good, she still wasn't quite able to bring herself to wear what she thought of as men's clothing.
That didn't stop her from dressing Mali in the same coveralls that all the other little girls wore, though.
For the thousandth time, Sarai looked in the mirror and swore to herself that her daughter would have a better life than she had had. She glanced at the bed as she pulled on her clothing. Falling into the sack with any handsome man who crossed her path wouldn't make it any easier to give her daughter the kind of life she deserved, she told herself sternly. No matter how good Jax made her feel, she had to remember what was really important—her family, and her independence. There was nothing more important than that, nothing.
She quietly opened the door and made her way down the hall. It was still early; hopefully the children wouldn't be up quite yet. They'd had a late night. Time to start breakfast and pretend nothing had happened. Able was already worried about Jax, and Mali was halfway in love with the man. It would be best if they had as little to do with him as possible.
* * * * *
Able crouched in the bushes, watching Jax throw the flying disk to Mali. She was giggling hysterically, thrilled at the attention the man was giving her. Each time Jax threw the disk, he was careful to keep it slow and steady, so she actually had a chance of catching it. Able curled his lip in disgust. Mali was too stupid to see what Jax was doing—he would use them to get to mom if they let him.