Page 86 of The Last Hunt
Maeve allows him to pull her down and at the first swipe of his tongue on her core, she moans, arching forward. She looks down at him, and he meets her gaze, his eyes blazing as he spears his tongue inside her. Maeve’s mouth falls open at the sheer eroticism of the sight. She lets out a halting breath as he eats her out, winding her up to a fast release. Aethon pulls her down harder, his lips finding her clit with the unerring accuracy of six months experience. God, why had she waited so long to be with him? Maeve didn’t know it could be this good. But being known - mind, body, soul - is better than anything.
“I’m never giving you up,” she gasps. “Artrenn -”
Aethon just sucks her clit harder, his hands tight on her ass.
Maeve comes with a full body shudder. She squeezes her eyes shut, colors exploding in the darkness there, reminding her of the colors in hyper jump-point space, or the shifting aurora outside their window. She’s boneless by the time Aethon pushes her back onto his chest.
“God, I can’t wait to do that again,” he growls. He grabs her hips and flips them over, caging her in with his arms.
“Need you,” Maeve pants.
“I’m here, chrissah,” he says. He lifts one of her legs under the knee and Maeve watches as he slides his cock through her folds. She shudders at the hard feel of him and arches back with a moan as he pushes inside. He kisses her as he hooks his elbow under her knee, driving into her. He’s so deep. So unbelievably hard. Maeve scrapes her nails up his back as he thrusts into her again and again.
Tension coils in Maeve’s stomach again and she wraps both her legs around Aethon’s waist pulling him in as deep as she can. He grinds against her clit and pulls her lower lip into his mouth, sucking, biting down, before releasing her mouth. They pant against each other, sharing breath.
Aethon keeps up his rhythm, his hips relentless, his body hard and powerful, complementing every part of her. She squeezes her eyes shut, moaning as her pussy clenches around his length, her orgasm hard. Aethon comes right after her with a groan, his release slick within her.
“Fuck, Maeve,” he groans, collapsing on top of her.
She laughs and wraps her arms and legs around him, content to never let him go.
***
The next day is beautiful, and Maeve can’t resist the call of the ocean. But the black sand beach near the house gets hot as hell in the afternoon sun.
“Fuck!” Maeve dances along the sand, hopping from foot to foot, sprinting for the water.
“Told you to bring shoes!” Liadan calls from where she sits under a giant umbrella.
“Y’charit!” Maeve shouts to her. She spins to look at the older woman and laughs as Liadan flips up her middle finger, returning the sentiment. Maeve turns back around and leaps for the cool water sighing with relief as she splashes in.
“Did you just say - ‘fuck you’ - to my mother in Tellamari?”
Maeve turns toward Aethon who is standing a bit farther into the water, both hands wrapped around a wooden fishing pole. He’s shirtless and wearing black swim shorts. She can’t help but examine the scar on his spine as she does every time she sees him without a shirt. It runs from the top of his shoulders all the way down to his hips. But it’s fading, the raised pink ridge softening, the color blending in more with the rest of his skin. Maeve is pleased to see in the bright sunlight that her hard work massaging the healing balm into his scar is paying off.
“You’re too sensitive, artrenn,” Maeve says, kicking a splash of water towards him. “She’s Tellamari. If you don’t insult a Tellamari daily, they’ll start to think you don’t care.”
Aethon winks and recasts his line farther from Maeve’s splashing and stomping. “Well then,” he says. “Have I said - fuck you - to you today, chrissah?”
Maeve flips Aethon off before diving into the cool water. The water slides over her mostly bare skin like a dream. She’s only wearing a small swimsuit. Maeve had never worn a swimsuit before - the tiny oceans on Tellamar were far from her home and water was too precious to play with. It had taken her a good month before she was willing to bare herself enough to wear the skimpy suit. It wasn’t because she was embarrassed or feeling modest, but rather it was hard for her to allow herself to be that physically vulnerable. But now she loves the feel of the water on her bare skin. It makes her feel alive.
Maeve pops her head above the surface and treads water - something Aethon had taught her to do. She squints at the sun sparkling on the black sand, and then spots Nikair walking down from the house waving both his arms, clearly trying to get their attention.
“Aethon!” he shouts. “Maeve!”
Maeve swims back toward the shore, reaching her feet down and digging them into the sand. She runs out of the water, jogging toward Nikair where he waits next to Liadan, the sand not quite as hot on her wet feet. Aethon joins her, jogging sedately next to her.
“Wonder what this is about,” he says.
They reach the umbrella and Maeve sees that Nikair is holding a tab in his hand.
“You got a call,” he says, a little out of breath. “CAL insisted I take the tab to you so you could talk to whoever it is.”
Maeve looks over at Aethon, her brows narrowing. CAL and TAI have been enjoying learning how to be house AIs, practicing security procedures, and absorbing all the digital information the local university has to offer. TAI is set on making the Trell house the most secure one on Freehail - or any other planet for that matter.
“This better not be another call from the sexuality specialist at the university,” Aethon mutters, reaching forward to take the tab from his father. TAI and CAL had also audited several of the university’s classes about sexuality, gender, and biology prompting multiple interesting calls from professors.
Nikair chuckles. “I don’t think so.”