The Erotic Expeditions - Complete Collection (3 page)

• • • • •

The mattress was firm but the sheets were
so
soft. Emily couldn’t remember anything that felt quite so satiny. She lay on her back in a white world that seemed like a snow globe. She looked all around but nothing distinct stood out, just the milky white light, tinged with blue.

She remembered Austin and suddenly he popped into existence next to her, naked.
 

“I’m right here,” he said in that velvety voice.

His chest was bare and, without touching it, she knew it was warm and completely hairless, the skin smooth and sleek over the large, sculpted pectoral muscles.

Before he popped out of existence, it was time to find out what the rest of him was like.

Austin crouched in front of the second
kudlik
and filled it. Although the heat of their bodies and the first oil lamp had heated the igloo nicely, another one would put it into that comfort zone that might almost seem normal. He added the wicks, lit them and pocketed the lighter.

He stood and gazed down at Emily. The rapid eye movements had begun nearly an hour ago. She was dreaming of something that made her smile.
 

Thank goodness. The pleading and crying of the hallucination had been gut-wrenching.
 

What had
that
been about?
 

He shook his head. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. He looked at her clothes, still lying in the entrance. He went over and started to pick them up but they had partially frozen. Though they were useless now, he moved them near the first
kudlik
. They couldn’t be left here and it’d be easier to pack them out if they could be wrung out and folded. Then, he noticed her camera.

He picked it up as the sliced strap dangled below it. Miraculously, it seemed all right. Then again, it had never gone in the water. It had been the thing that had saved her. If it had slipped over the lip of the hole…. He shut his eyes against the thought. That had been a close one. The sound of her scream echoed in his head. Her throat had automatically closed when she’d submerged, otherwise her lungs would have filled with ice-cold water–and she’d be dead. His eyes snapped open and he quickly looked at her, as if to confirm yet again that hadn’t happened. He took a deep breath and exhaled, his breath a white mist in the air. He remembered the camera.

On impulse, he toggled the little dial on the top to the ON position. The camera screen brightened with a small whirring noise and he found he was looking at the polar bear skin. It still worked. Rugged little thing. All around the screen, there were lots of small buttons and a little wheel near the base. Although he’d seen the digital cameras that tourists carried, he’d never actually held one. As he pushed the buttons, the screen was taken over by previous photographs. There was the frozen river, the last shot she’d taken. Eventually he figured out that he could step back through the photos. There were several of the top block of the igloo sliding into place. And then there were a few that he didn’t recognize. He skipped them and found a photo of himself. He was wearing the grey tank top and held a block of ice on his shoulder.
 

Wait–that grey.

He went back to the photos he hadn’t been able to make out.

This photo was a close-up of his chest. He cocked his head at it and glanced at Emily. She had been taking photos of him?

Well, she’d been taking photos of him all day. That’s why they were here. He looked at the screen again. But photos like this?

His heart began to beat a bit faster.

He quickly looked through the rest of the pictures, moving back through the day. There were several close-ups of him interspersed with the regular shots–his biceps, his back, his face, his … lips. He realized he was gripping the camera too tight and turned it off.

Why hadn’t she said something?

He set the camera down and took off his parka. He was overheating.

As he stared at her face and the contours of her body under the bearskin, he couldn’t help but wonder what had been going through her mind. Without realizing it, he found himself standing over her, stripping off the last of his clothing. He quickly ducked under the bearskin and lay on his side, trying not to wake her. She was still dreaming.

He began to reach out and stopped.

This wasn’t right.

She had taken pictures of him, not touched him.

But as he remembered the photos, he knew what had been going through her mind–the same thing that was going through his now. Besides, he reasoned with himself, I’ve already seen her naked and actually touched her. It wouldn’t be something new.

And, he couldn’t help himself.

He reached out but stopped again. His hands were cold. That’d be a mistake. He briskly rubbed them together until he was satisfied. Then he placed one under his head to support it.

His wide chest had raised the bearskin just enough to see her. The hypothermia was definitely gone. Her ivory skin stood out in the dim light but it had taken on a delicate pink color. Her breasts seemed even more full and he realized that her nipples were no longer hard. He stared at the one closest to him and inched closer. It was a perfect oval. The skin there was like pink cream, smooth with a tiny pucker in the middle. He reached out his hand and was surprised to find it was trembling. He curled and flexed his fingers, trying to get it to stop. Finally, it quieted to the tiniest quaking and that was going to have to be good enough.

His index finger touched her and slowly traced the soft oval outline.

Emily immediately took a deep breath and Austin held his–but she didn’t wake up.
 

Even so, her reaction had triggered one of his own and warmth began to spread in his groin. He circled her nipple again.
 

A sigh escaped her lips as her eyes moved furiously under the closed lids.

His index finger drifted along her breast and he slowly lowered his palm onto the nipple. She filled his hand and he had to keep looking at it to make sure he was still in contact with her. She was so soft and the flesh gave so easily. He’d never felt anything like it. He concentrated on not squeezing too hard.

Then, she whimpered–a low, barely audible sound–and he froze again.

Slowly, her back began to arch. As he watched in disbelief, the warmth in his groin suddenly flamed. Again, he felt the urge to move his hips. But instead, he released her breast and moved his hand downward. He shifted the bearskin away with a toss of his shoulder so that he could see her. She had begun to relax her back and, as she did, her hips rose slightly. His hand slowly glided along the flat of her stomach. As he raised himself up, he reached her abdomen. His thumb lingered behind and dipped into her navel. He gave it the slightest pressure and her back began to arch again, tilting her hips downward. But he couldn’t wait for her hips to tilt back up. Even though he couldn’t see that far, he stretched his fingers into the tiny curls of the small mound and then over its edge.

It was as though he had pulled instead of pushed. Her hips became still and then pivoted in the opposite direction, rising up as the small of her back settled back down to the white fur. Her mound pressed into his hand and her legs began to move.

“Oh my god,” he whispered.

It was mesmerizing. Everything he did produced some reaction. Endless possibilities started to form in his mind. Then, she languidly rolled toward him and he jerked his gaze to her face.

She was awake.

• • • • •

Emily didn’t know the exact moment she realized it wasn’t a dream. It had been so gradual. Her dream of Austin and the real thing–they were so alike. At first, she’d been afraid to let him know she was awake for fear of what he might do to her. She simply became still and kept her eyes closed.

But as Austin continued to touch her, she heard him gasp. Without seeing his face, she felt the tenderness of his touch and was drawn into his tentative exploration of her body. Now she kept her eyes closed, afraid that he would stop. It had been so long since someone had touched her this way.

She had begun pushing relationships away from the start, though she hadn’t realized it. Years of therapy about what her father had done hadn’t helped. She still couldn’t remember what had happened that day. Only the lingering dread remained. And the nightmares–they had started to color everything in her life.

Never a stranger to the attention of men, she had tried to be choosy about them, only to finally accept that the problem was her. Now, she avoided relationships altogether. She lived her life with the camera firmly between her and the real world. And that, she realized, had been a problem too. Her body craved the closeness of a man and here was one who seemed perfect.

Austin’s hand moved down over her stomach and the anticipation was killing her. He paused maddeningly at her belly button but when his fingers finally reached between her legs, she simply could not keep still.

At her movement, his hand stopped and she heard his low voice.

“Oh my god,” he whispered.

She couldn’t stand it anymore and opened her eyes, then rolled toward him.

He was staring at her, his mouth open in shock.

Quickly, he withdrew his hand.

“
No
,” she said as he started to back away. “No, don’t go.”

He paused.

“Don’t go,” she said again and reached out.

She lightly grasped his bulging upper arm. Though she tugged, it was rock solid. It wouldn’t be moving an inch unless he moved it. Although he hesitated, he began to slide back next to her. She let her hand slide up along his arm, over his shoulder, and then behind his neck. His lips looked so much more inviting when she wasn’t seeing them through the lens. As she drew him in, he was already moving toward her.

His lips were full and soft. They moved slowly, like his hand had–tender and tentative. She opened her mouth to him and, though his kiss grew more urgent, it was chaste. She didn’t need chaste.

She captured his lower lip between hers, as his hand slipped behind her back. The warm breath from his nose flowed down the middle of her chest and her heart started to hammer. Though she had been enjoying nibbling his lower lip, her tongue quickly found his upper lip. As he drew in a sharp breath, his lips finally parted. She felt as though she could devour him and she realized his other arm had gone under her and he was pulling her closer.

Their bodies came together, his arousal hard between them. It dug into her abdomen as she pressed herself against his granite-like thigh. Her hand flew to his rigid buttock, kneading it, bringing it to her as she tried to maneuver into position. Unable to wait, she pulled him as she rolled onto her back. Suddenly, he was on top.

He was heavy and air rushed out of her lungs with a grunt but he quickly propped himself on his elbows and looked down at her.

“Are you okay?” he said, his voice thick, his breath coming hard and fast.

His eyes were searching her face as she regained her breath. She dug her fingers into his back, then moved her hands down to his slim waist.

“I’ll be okay if you don’t make me wait,” she breathed.

She tried to center herself under him but it was awkward.

What was he doing?

She tried to look down.

“Emily,” he said.

Something in the tone of his voice made her look at his face.

“Austin,” she said. “Austin what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, then he paused.
 

He looked away but she quickly moved her hands to his face and turned it back to her. She looked into his dark eyes, worried now. Something was definitely wrong.

“I’m a virgin,” he whispered.

Too stunned for words, she could only stare at him, almost not comprehending. A
virgin
? How could
he
be a virgin? How could someone like
this
not have–

“I know,” he said, starting to slide off her.

She held his face.

“Are you serious?” she said and immediately regretted the words as his expression fell. “No, I didn’t mean it that way.”
 

Suddenly, an awful thought occurred to her.

“Austin, how old
are
you?”

“Nineteen,” he ground out through clenched teeth as his cheeks flushed a dark red.

“Oh thank god,” she exhaled, relieved.

His eyebrows knit together, puzzled.

“We’re legal,” she said, but then paused. “Well, we
would
be legal, if we actually did…”

God, maybe he was waiting for someone–saving himself. She searched his suddenly young face and, as she watched, understanding finally dawned across it.

“I don’t
want
to be a virgin,” he blurted out. “I just never….” His dark eyes looked into hers. “I never met anybody–at least not anybody like you.”

He was so
earnest
. Every emotion that he felt was right on his face.

Her fingers lightly ran through his hair.
Nineteen
.

Then he smiled that shy little smile of his–and it was irresistible. Her hands went to his hips. She moved him sideways as she moved out from under him. He watched her intently as she sat up and turned to him. She began to swing one leg over him and, when he understood her intent, he quickly rolled to his back. As she straddled him, his hands went around her waist. Though his arousal had waned, she felt it throb once beneath her, directly on the sweet spot.

Her breath caught and she let her full weight sit against him.

Again, it throbbed.

Oh god, she thought, as her pelvis began to pivot. It had definitely been too long.

Both his hands moved to her breasts. For such large, strong hands, they were still soft. The softness of youth, she thought. He gently squeezed and she suddenly felt his hips jerk upward as his arousal flared underneath her.

She rode it, not wanting to lose contact with him. His hardness squirmed beneath her but she let her hips find the sweet spot–over and over.

He began to thrust and, as he rubbed against her, she moaned. At the sound, he bucked convulsively. He cried out and she felt a long overdue clenching radiate up from their connection. It sped through her abdomen and fueled her hips as she ground against him. Something she hadn’t even known was coiled was suddenly unwinding inside her. She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the warmth of it.