Megan Simmons, Medical Station, Battleship Karter, Sector 437

      I was being kissed. And carried. Literally lifted off my feet and a hot, very insistent mouth was on mine. We were moving but I didn’t know to where. I didn’t care. I just wanted to be kissed.

      Hot. Deep. Lush. My body responded instantly. My pussy became wet, my nipples hardened when a growl rumbled deep in his chest. I felt it as much as heard the carnal sound.

      All at once, I was pushed against a wall and I felt every hard inch of him pressing into me. He was big. So big that I felt the thick outline of his cock pressing high against my belly.

      “Mine,” he said, his voice a harsh rasp. His lips only lifted enough for him to breathe that one word, but I felt it all the way to my toes.

      Yes. I had no problem agreeing with that. I had no idea who this guy was or why he was kissing me, but I didn’t care. I wanted him with a desperation I’d never known.

      Through our clothes I felt his heat. It was as if he had a fever, his body raging with a need for me that all but consumed him, turned him into something dark and primitive.

      “Yes, yours,” I whispered.

      His hands slid down my body, down my bare body. Wait. I was naked. He was dressed. I should stop him, but why? It felt too damn good.

      I didn’t need my clothes. I needed him to remove his.

      He stepped back and I was able to see he wore the uniform of a Coalition fighter, and he filled it out so beautifully. I couldn’t, though, see his face. Why? Why couldn’t I see who was making me so needy?

      His hands went to his pants, opened them and pulled out his cock. Whoa, now that was a monster cock. Long and thick with a broad head, I licked my lips with an eagerness to taste him.

      What