by Calista Fox
As D.T. set a steady pace of licking and sucking her clit while pumping his finger in and out of her, Gizelle responded by lifting her hips and thrusting them toward him, taking everything he had to offer. When the sensations collided and exploded inside her, she cried out his name. Her fingers tightened around his strands of hair. Gizelle rode the waves of ecstasy, loving every single second of pleasure D.T. gave her, knowing there was so much more to come.
As her orgasm ebbed, D.T. continued to stroke her slowly with his tongue and finger. He kept her arousal at full peak, even though she’d just climaxed. With a long sigh, she said, “How the hell did I go six months without that?”
D.T.’s head lifted and grinned up at her, looking quite pleased with himself. “Missed me, did you?”
She smiled despite herself. “You’re such an ass.” Shaking her head, she playfully said, “Arrogant and much too cocky. On the other hand—”
“Damned good in bed?”
Gizelle laughed. “And then some.”
D.T. stood, towering over her, then he leaned down, his lips hovering close to hers. “You inspire me.”
Her gaze dropped to his lips, so close she could feel them brush against hers as she asked, “Feeling particularly inspired tonight?”
“Oh, yeah.” His hands gripped her hips just as his mouth pressed to hers. His kiss was as hot and demanding as always. Yet it held a hint of something darker, something needier. A mixture Gizelle couldn’t quite define but which enticed her and excited her nonetheless.
Territorial. That’s what his kiss conveyed. As though he alone possessed her and wouldn’t allow anyone else to.
A message for Trey?
Desire flooded her veins all over again, running thick and molten, because she remembered how thrilling it was to imagine both men pleasuring her. But D.T. wanted her all to himself. There was something equally thrilling about that, too. Entrancing, really, with the way his possessiveness seeped through her from head to toe, making her think of all the nights she’d spent with D.T. All the naughty things he’d done to her.
Gizelle wanted him to do those things to her tonight. Lord, how she wanted him!
Shifting out of his embrace so that she could slip off the desk, her hands went to work on his clothing, stripping away his shirt and tossing it aside. As he toed off his boots, she worked the fastenings on his leather pants and within seconds, D.T. was gloriously naked in front of her.
Exactly how she wanted him.
He grinned at her. “Impatient tonight.”
She nodded. She could barely breathe, she was so in need of him. Whatever their differences, she had no trouble overcoming them and letting go of her inhibitions when she was with D.T. He assaulted her senses on every level so that she felt consumed by him. Drawn to him. Drowning in the essence of him.
Her fingers itched to touch him, her tongue begged to taste him.
And her pussy ached for him. She needed him deep inside her, pounding hard, quelling her intense desire.
As he sank into one of the oversized chairs in front of his desk, he pulled Gizelle down with him. She straddled his lap as he pushed the thin material of her skirt up to her waist again. Then his large hands smoothed over her skin. Gizelle felt the heat of his touch all the way to the core of her being. He cupped her ass and squeezed hard, and she rubbed against his erection, allowing the length of him to tease her labia and drive her just a little bit wilder, make her just a little bit wetter.
Her hands gripped his shoulders as she rode him slowly, loving the feeling of the head of his cock pressing against her opening. Her hips moved forward. And when they moved back, the smooth skin of his rock-hard erection stroked her in long, full movements and then targeted her clit. It felt better than just about anything else she’d ever experienced.
Except, of course, having D.T. inside her.
When his hands moved to her hips and he forced her to pick up the pace a little, Gizelle felt her orgasm build again. Her gaze locked with his, and his looked just as dazed, just as seductive as she was sure hers did. Her lips parted. Her breath came in heavier pulls, causing her breasts to rise and fall. D.T.’s eyes slipped down her neck to her chest in such a sensuous way, she felt the intimate gesture as though it were a physical one.
She rocked against him, not yet taking him inside her body. Her eyelids fluttered closed and a soft moan fell from her lips.
“I’m going to come soon,” she told him in a soft, yet tight, voice.
D.T. groaned. “You’re hot and wet, sweetheart.” His hands gripped her a bit more firmly. “I want you hotter. Wetter.”
A wicked thrill shot through Gizelle and her fingertips pressed deeper into his broad shoulders.
“And then what?” she whispered, her eyes still closed, her body still raging with excitement as she stood on that beautiful precipice of desire, anticipating the moment when she fell over. Craving it, but also keeping it at bay because D.T. felt so unbelievably good. She wanted to savor the moment as long as possible.
“Then I’m going to thrust into you so deep and so hard, you’ll come again.”
That was almost enough to push her over the edge. She let out a low groan, tightened her grip on his shoulders, and pressed herself more firmly against his thick cock. Her swollen lips slicked over his shaft from base to tip and back. His soft pubic hair teased her sensitive skin, adding another erotic sensation to the ones that already consumed her.
“I love it when you talk dirty,” she whispered in his ear. Then her mouth grazed his, teasing him, as her tongue darted out and flicked over his lips.
“You’re testing my restraint,” he told her in a tight voice.
Gizelle smiled. “And you’re driving me wild.” As her clit reached the tip of his cock again, he held her in place and shifted slightly beneath her, rubbing himself against the ultra-sensitive nub until Gizelle was panting harshly. Her back arched. He caught a hard nipple in his mouth, sucking on it as he stroked her clit.
Gizelle’s hands left his shoulders and her fingers tangled in his hair. “Oh, God.” She moaned deep in her throat on a broken breath, knowing there was no way to hold back the wave of desire that threatened to crash over her.
One hand moved from her hip to the breast he wasn’t teasing with his tongue. His thumb swept over the taut peak as he continued to suck the other one. Gizelle bucked against him, finding just the right spot.
“Oh, fuck,” she said as all the intense feelings collided inside her. The explosion made her cry out in sheer ecstasy. But before the sensations dimmed, D.T. shifted beneath her again until his cock pressed against her opening. He thrust upward, pushing deep into her. Gizelle cried out again.
As his hips bucked beneath her and Gizelle rode him, another orgasm hit her hard and fast. And then D.T. let out a low, primal growl as came, too. His hot seed flooded her already wet pussy. She clenched him tightly, prolonging the pleasure for both of them as they enjoyed every last second of their climaxes.
When the sensations finally ebbed, Gizelle wrapped her arms around D.T. and slumped against his hard body. “It doesn’t get much better than that.”
“Sure it does. Just give me twenty minutes, sweetheart.”
Gizelle let out a short laugh. “You may only need twenty minutes. I, on the other hand, may need a little longer to recover from that.”
As it was, her entire body tingled from head to toe. But it was her heart, hammering in her chest, that really needed time to recover. While her pussy throbbed with the lingering effects of D.T.’s lovemaking, her inner walls continued to hold him tight, as though unwilling to let him go. She didn’t want him to slip from her.
She could hardly blame her body for responding as it did. D.T. was an incredible lover. And being naked with him, their bodies pressed together, joined in the most intimate way, was one guilty pleasure she wasn’t inclined to give up easily.
Even if they were having trouble seeing eye to eye on some issues.
Thinking of her missi
on, Gizelle pulled away slightly and stared at D.T., whose ruggedly handsome face was made all the more gorgeous by the lingering traces of desire and fulfilled pleasure. “You’re really giving me the gold?”
D.T. grinned. “Think I just told you that so you’d fuck me?”
She shrugged. “Not really, but….”
A dark eyebrow crooked. “You wouldn’t put it past me?”
At that remark, Gizelle tilted her head and eyed him curiously. “You’ve been known, on occasion, to bend the rules so you get your way.”
“True,” he conceded. “But seriously, Ellie, I don’t need the gold. If you do, take it.”
“Oh, I do,” she insisted. “And I will.”
She pushed off his lap and out of his embrace, though, admittedly, she hated the sense of loss she felt as his cock pulled out of her. Gizelle brushed her skirt down so it swung into place, the hem caressing her legs at mid-thigh.
“The Protective Forces are in need of provisions, there’s no doubt about it.” She turned away and began to pace. She lifted her arms and swept up the mass of damp hair on her neck and back. The cool evening breeze that touched her skin felt heavenly. Almost as good as D.T.’s touch.
“The invading forces—the Gyllians—have made it difficult to transport necessities from planet to planet within our own galaxy,” she continued. “Since all the citizens of the Solar System have become accustomed to trading specialties, once free trade opened up, they’ve been reliant on certain items from certain planets.” She turned back to D.T. and added in a grave tone, “And with exchanges being so difficult—deadly even, because of the Gyllian snipers blowing trade shuttles out of space—it’s become nearly impossible for each planet to produce enough medicine, food and supplies for its inhabitants to survive.”
D.T. nodded. “I’d heard times were getting tougher.”
Her hands dropped to her sides and the thick strands of hair fell back into place. “Not just tougher, D.T.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Impossible. But I can procure provisions, provide amble currency for people to buy what they need, and maybe, just maybe, keep our Protective Forces and the inhabitants of our planets healthy, strong and able to continue fighting. To finally defeat the Gyllians.”
D.T.’s jaw tightened, but Gizelle rushed on before he could say anything. Like how much he didn’t want to hear about her involvement in the war. Or the way she risked life and limb to achieve what needed to be done.
Hope and excitement entered her voice as she told him the rest of her grand plan, the part no one else knew but which Gizelle was wildly optimistic about. “I can use some of the currency I get from selling the gold to buy back the one commodity the collective, galactic Protective Forces need above all else.”
D.T.’s eyes narrowed on her. “And what, pray tell, is that?”
She couldn’t help her cocky grin as she said, “I’m going to sway General Tanner to return to duty. With the amount of currency I’m going to offer him, there’s no way in hell he can refuse me.”
D.T. shot to his feet. Gizelle stood in front of him, reveling in exhilaration over her impending coup—one she was certain would put the Protective Forces back in control, strengthen the fighter brigades and ensure victory. She felt damn proud of herself for coming up with the idea all on her own.
But her enthusiasm was, quite clearly, lost on D.T. He closed the small gap between them. His large hands clasped her shoulders and he looked deep into her eyes. “It’ll never happen, Ellie. Don’t even bother trying to bribe the General. He won’t concede.”
“And how, exactly, would you know that?” She knew her look challenged him. Admittedly, she hated that they’d veered off in this direction, but when it came to her job, the war and D.T.’s avoidance of it all, she got riled in a heartbeat. Her passion simmered as she stared at him, waiting for his answer.
His jaw ground tight. His broad shoulders bunched and one thought entered Gizelle’s head. Here we go again.
Letting out a sigh, she lifted her hands in the air in surrender. “Goddamn it, D.T. Why does this keep happening with us? We’re on totally different planes. We don’t share the same ideals. We don’t have the same commitments or concerns. You get to while away your days on a planet that encourages—no, evokes—hedonistic behavior. Meanwhile, back home, people are dying.”
D.T. let out a low growl and spun sharply away from her. In an instant, it felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. And the windows were all wide open.
A peculiar chill chased up Gizelle’s spine, making her shiver. She’d never really been the recipient of D.T.’s anger, but she had the distinct feeling it would be powerful and all-consuming. And she wouldn’t weather it well.
She found herself searching for her blouse. Not that it would provide an ample barrier from the frost D.T. seemed able to call forth at will, but she did feel a little more dignified and a lot less vulnerable with her clothes back on.
“Look, this isn’t espionage, D.T. I’m not doing anything scandalous or dangerous by reaching out to the General. I just…. Shit.” She shook her head. Whether he agreed with her was moot at this point, because her mind was made up.
She knew this would be one more thing that pushed them apart, yet she didn’t feel the need to keep it from him. They’d never be of like minds, but she did believe she could confide in him. Even so, she felt the wedge between them deepen as she said, “Tanner resigned from his post four years ago and then just disappeared. We need him back.”
It was as simple as that. This particular General had more victories under his belt than any other in Earth’s history. Rumor had it, he was cunning and daring, a strategic and tactical genius. And his fighter pilots had loved him, would follow him to the outer reaches of the Milky Way to destroy Gyllian fighters, no questions asked.
Though the High Leader of the galactic Protective Forces, Commander Heath, was a force to be reckoned with, he was much older than General Tanner and didn’t fight alongside his pilots. Tanner’s fearless leadership and camaraderie was legendry, and it was what the Protective Forces needed now to keep the fighter brigades motivated and determined to win this war.
“General Tanner no longer exists,” D.T. said in a surly tone as he stalked across the room and snatched up a decanter of Scotch.
Gizelle’s jaw fell slack for a moment. “He’s dead?” she asked, incredulous. There’d been no word of that. Granted, the intel she’d received on him wasn’t current. In fact, it was a bit sketchy. But there’d been nothing to indicate that the war hero was deceased.
What a shame. He’d been so young. And damn it! They really needed him!
“D.T.,” she prompted when he didn’t respond to her previous comment.
Nor did he respond now. Instead, he poured a healthy amount of amber liquid into his glass and then promptly drained it.
“D.T.,” she repeated, a bit more insistently.
After pouring another glass of Scotch, he turned to her and said, “No. The General is not dead.”
Gizelle perked up. “You know him, then?” She crossed to where he stood, still looking tense and on the verge of erupting. But there was something about his disposition that told her he was no longer angry with her. Something else weighed heavy on D.T.’s mind. What was it?
“He’s retired,” D.T. said in a curt tone. “Passed by here a while back, but believe me, sweetheart, he doesn’t want to hear your proposition for returning to the war. There isn’t enough gold or currency in all of space to get him back in a fighter craft.”
Gizelle’s brows knitted together. “That hardly sounds like the patriot everyone on Earth has waxed poetic about for the past four years. Supposedly, he was the most committed officer and pilot the Protective Forces has ever known. And the way he rallied the troops—to this day, the brigades still rave about him.”
D.T. shook his head. At her enthusiasm? “He hated the war,” D.T. said, his voice still tight. “Believe me. He has no desire to return to it.”
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Her head cocked to one side. “Everyone hates the war, D.T. Except the currency brokers who are making a fortune on their outrageous exchange rate. And then there’s everyone on this stupid planet, who reap the rewards of pilots on leave.” Her jaw clenched in disgust. Or maybe in jealousy, because surely D.T. was one of the many who blew his wad on the Pleasure Planet’s ladies of the evening. And damn it, with the four moons circling this rock, it was always evening.
She turned away and began to pace the platinum floor, just one more of D.T.’s endless extravagances. His entire dwelling screamed of opulence and glowing seductiveness, with the soft lighting and the ocean view and the open windows. The furnishings were the best on the market, and Gizelle knew the market well. They made her slightly angry, all over again, that D.T. was so wrapped up in his personal pleasure that he didn’t give a damn about what was happening in their home galaxy.
Then again….
Gizelle spun around and pinned him with a look as he took another drink of Scotch. Her eyes narrowed on him. Something ticked away at the back of her brain and she could swear there was something she was supposed to know about D.T. that she didn’t.
Casting as wide a net as possible, she said, “You know, you hardly seem like the type to toil away in hedonistic pleasure while your race is under siege.”
Was D.T. hiding something from her? Why the hell hadn’t she thought of this before? Was she so hell-bent on achieving her own mission that she couldn’t see past such an obvious façade? Couldn’t see the asteroid for the field?
Moving swiftly toward him, she reached for his half-full glass and drained the contents. Then she pinned him with another hard look. “There has to be a reason I don’t hate you, D.T. Something compelling that eats away at my subconscious mind, telling me not to loathe your decadent ways. Like there’s something more I’m supposed to know. See. Believe in.” Her eyes narrowed on his dangerously sexy features. Her throat tightened when she looked past the scoundrel she thought him to be and maybe, just maybe, saw something more.
