“Might need to be dressed and running at a moment’s notice.”

“And we’ve seen what’s crawling across the jungle floor.”

She growled. “Damn.”

He grabbed her hand, kissed it. “It’s all right. I want you however I can have you.”

It wasn’t going to be elegant or pretty, but she pushed her uniform down so it gathered around her calves. “If I’m going to look this ridiculous, you do too.”

His eyes gleamed in the darkness. “You don’t look ridiculous. You look…real.”

“Then you’d better get real, Lieutenant Calder.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Nils also partially undressed, and in the dim radiance of the moonlight, she saw his narrow, uncovered hips, his bare legs. And his cock, upright and thick.

“Gods,” she breathed, “what I wouldn’t give for a full-sized lys-lamp. Even simu-candles. I want to see you.”

“It’s said that other senses compensate when one’s diminished. Touch, for example.” He reached for her, and she went willingly as they pressed together tightly.

She gasped at the feel of his bare cock rubbing against her. Some minor shred of modesty had kept her panties and tank top on, but the synth-silk fabric of her underwear was far thinner than her uniform, and it was almost like naked skin against naked skin. She felt the heat of his shaft, the smooth head, even the tiny droplet of moisture gathering at the tip.

With his clever engineer’s hands, he pulled off her tank top in a swift motion. And when those same hands gathered up her breasts, both Celene and Nils groaned in pleasure. He traced her nipples, bringing them to hard beads, and lightly pinched them. On a moan, she arched up.

“My senses are replete,” he rasped. “I feel you everywhere. But, gods, I’ve fantasized about this for so long. And now that I really have you, I can’t see you. I don’t even know the color of your nipples. They could be light or dark, and I’ve got no way of knowing.” He all but growled his words.

“Dark,” she managed to gasp as he plucked on them, sensation traveling straight between her legs.

“The color of flame plums, or açaberries?”

In the haze of her arousal, Celene had to laugh. “Trust you to remain fixated on quantifiables.”

“Want the full range of experience.” He bent his head and circled his tongue around her nipple, drawing forth another moan from her. “You taste sweet as an açaberry.”

“Tawnyfruit,” she breathed. “My nipples are the color of tawnyfruit.”

“My favorite.” He sucked the peak of her breast into his mouth, and she threaded her hands through his hair, holding him close.

“Lucky for me.”

“Lucky for me. But you could’ve named any fruit at all. Whatever you said would be my favorite.” Then he stopped talking, his attention fully focused on bringing her pleasure.

And he did. She’d been touched before, by men and by machines designed for pleasure. But nothing felt like this. With his incisive mind and skillful hands, only Nils could draw such pleasure from her body. They had been wanting this for far too long, and she felt his freed desire in every caress. She writhed beneath him as his mouth and hands moved over her in hot, lush exploration.

But she was a pilot, and not without her own sense of discovery. She touched him everywhere—wide shoulders, lean arms, the hard musculature of his back and lower. Beneath her palms, his buttocks tightened, and she gripped him hard. At some other point, she wanted very much to sink her teeth into that delicious ass, but that would have to wait for another time. Right now, she was famished, and the means of sating her hunger lay tantalizingly close.

She edged back enough to give her hand room for more journeying. Traced the ridges of his abdomen and the muscle that ran from each hip. Following that muscle led her to his cock, and he hissed in pleasure when she wrapped her fingers around it. He was marvelous in her hand, the living energy of him. She stroked him, up and down, giving a little twist at the head that made him groan and clench his teeth.

One of his hands dipped beneath the waistband of her panties. Finding her wet, he murmured words in a language she did not recognize, only judging by the tone that they were words of worshipful praise. She tipped her head back and made a breathless, pleasured sound. They touched one another like this, his long fingers caressing her, her hand stroking him. With his free hand, he continued to toy with her breasts, and she thanked the countless deities that he excelled at multitasking.

She felt her climax gathering. Yet abruptly he took his fingers from her. She growled her protest, though it died when she felt him tugging down her panties. She widened her legs as much as she could, and pulled him closer. He resisted, however.

His large hand covering her pussy, he murmured, “Taste. The most powerful sense.”

“No, no.” She tried to twist away. “We’ve been stomping through this inferno all day. I haven’t…” She felt herself blush. “I need to bathe. A UV shower, at least.”

Nils rolled away, and she heard him delving into one of the packs. The sound of tearing foil made her frown in curiosity.

He rolled back and held up what appeared to be a rectangular piece of fabric. “Cleanse-cloth.”

“That’s for cleaning weapons.”

She felt his smile. “Works on people too. I’ve done tests.”

Of course he had. And she certainly appreciated his thoroughness when he dipped the cleanse-cloth between her legs. The fabric was cool, moist, and it felt like the next incarnation of ecstasy as he slowly, sensuously stroked her with it. She thought she might feel embarrassed to have someone tend to her personal hygiene, but the way Nils touched her destroyed awkwardness and left only pleasure.

“Give me…one of those…cloths.” She wanted to perform the same service for him.

He shook his head. “Another time. Right now, I’ll go nova unless I taste you.”

The cleanse-cloth disappeared. And was replaced by Nils’s lips.

She pressed a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her moan. But she found herself unable to stop the wild, hoarse sounds that broke from her. She couldn’t hold herself in. Nils devastated her.

He didn’t lick at her pussy, nor press kisses there, as other men might. No, he ate at her, using his whole mouth—his lips and his tongue—to devour her. Drinking, nibbling. Feasting on her. He took her clit between his lips and sucked. He lapped at her, greedy and delicate, as if she was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. The tip of his tongue circled and dipped into her opening, firming to enter her. He fucked her in savage reverence with his mouth. Over her own furiously muffled cries, she heard groans of pleasure deep in his chest.

Her hips rose, and he pinned her down, commanding as he adored her. With her free hand, she clutched a slat of the platform, her grip tight enough to make her hand ache. She didn’t care. She was the center of the universe, all heat and pleasure.

Release tore through her. An explosion of sensation that left her a charred husk, shuddering and breathless.

But not utterly spent. Even as the last tremors shook her, she recovered enough strength to pull him up for a deep, open kiss, tasting their flavors intermingled.

“Now it’s my turn to take the controls,” she growled.

He smiled against her mouth. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”

“On your back.”

He did so. It took some negotiating, with their uniforms tangled around their legs, but she had skills as a pilot, and maneuvered herself to straddle him. She felt more than saw the intensity of his gaze as he stared up at her, his hands on her hips, his whole body taut with need.

“If anything interrupts us now,” she breathed, “I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Nothing can stop us.”

“Better not.” She pressed her hands against the hot contours of his chest. “I want you. So much.” She’d never known need like this, that drove away all thought. All boundaries.