Iron Seas 03 - Riveted

heated sex.
    “God. And you’re already so wet. You can’t know how much that means to me.”
    He palmed the back of her trembling thighs, to hold her still or to support her, she didn’t know. Kisses trailed up her inner thigh, ever closer to her center. Desperate whimpers rose unbidden from her throat, became a needy gasp when she felt the brush of his fingers over her clitoris.
    “This is where I rubbed you.”
    “Yes.” It was more moan than word.
    “This is where to lick?”
    Please. “Everywhere.”
    His mouth covered her. Annika cried out, her body stiffening, surprise pushing her onto her toes. He followed her up, his tongue rubbing, rubbing, until acute pleasure bordered on pain. She gripped the seat harder, fighting the need to writhe against his mouth, to push away. Then he released her, but that was a new torture, a slow lick up through her slick folds.
    Rough palms smoothed over her bottom again, as if reassuringly, and she realized that her breaths were coming in keening sobs.
    “Those sounds you make—God, Annika. That’s exactly how I felt with your mouth on me. I want to do this to you forever. And so much more.”
    Inside her? Oh, but she wanted that, too. She’d always thought to wait for love, but this act had to be just as intimate—and she’d be devastated if he did this with someone else.
    Was that love? Or just desperate need? Did she want him so badly because she was falling in love, or because she was already there?
    Another lick chased that question from her mind. His hands caught her hips, held her still for his tongue, and for the longest time there was only that, only that, until he eased back, as if realizing that even though the sound of her moans bordered on agony each lick was the sweetest torment, and he meant to draw it out.
    Then his mouth covered her again and she came in a rush, screaming and crying his name, the gentle suction against her clitoris the most painfully intense, incredible bliss. He held her upright when she drifted down from it, her body limp.
    He carried her to the bed, laid her down. When she reached for his trouser buckles, he caught her hand.
    “I want to give you the same pleasure, David.”
    He tucked her against his chest, her head pillowed on his arm. “You already did.”
    Perhaps it was for the best. A yawn overtook her, a heavylethargy. She turned her face into his neck, inhaled his smoky scent. So wonderful. “I want to do this every night.”
    A laugh rumbled from his chest. “I’d be glad to oblige.”
    She could so easily imagine being with him. No good came of such dreams—but for tonight, the rest of the world could go to hell.
    The troll suddenly seemed to sway, then settled into a gentle rocking. Annika tensed. “Do you feel that?”
    “Yes.” He pulled out his watch—not just to note the time, she realized when he didn’t immediately put it away. He was seeing how long the quake lasted. “How stable is the troll?”
    “I’ve been through rougher earthquakes inside one. We’ve never tipped.” And even if they did tip, it was better to be inside than to have the enormous machine fall on top of them while escaping.
    After almost a full minute, the rocking ceased. David tucked away his watch, settled against her again.
    “Do you have to write that in your journal?”
    “I will after you’ve fallen asleep.” He pressed a kiss into her hair. “You’ve a long way to drive tomorrow.”
    They were away long before dawn, roasted potatoes for breakfast leaving him pleasantly full, and Annika the best company that he could imagine. The sun rose midway through the morning into a brilliant sky, the reflection on the snow almost blinding. His smoked lens only helped a little; before long, his head ached from the brightness and constant squinting. Annika repeatedly wiped her eyes, lowering the louvers as far as she could without closing them. The head of the pass stretched before the troll, almost flat here but rising toward the rougher highlands. Chunks of ice and boulders dotted the ground. From the valley floor, the glaciers to the east and west appeared like mountains, the edges of the ice standing in jagged, black cliffs.
    “I don’t think I’ve yet seen a single tree,” David said. Or any dogs today, either.
    “There are some.” Annika steadily stomped and pulled. “We’ll see birch groves in the highlands—though not many.”
    “The sagas speak of forests.”
    “What sagas?”
    “Older stories—from