Page 9 of Alien Spare (Cosmic Mates #9)

Falkor awakened before the rise of the daystar. He’d spent a fitful night, shifting between spates of sleep infused with disturbing but ephemeral dreams, and bouts of wakefulness fraught with free-range anxiety.

The tarot reading weighed on his mind. He didn’t understand how a random draw of preprinted cards could predict anything or provide any guidance, but Earth divinations were alien concepts.

Maybe the cards did hold some power of prognostication.

Karma believed they did. Her expression when she’d flipped over the third card worried him more than the card itself.

She had tried to downplay it later, but her face didn’t lie.

Betrayal and heartbreak were in his future. He trusted Karma, but could fate be trusted? Or chance? Random happenstance had smacked him in the head more than once. Fate and chance were like two heads on the same creature. They were both fickle and heartless.

He didn’t worry about Soton turning his wife’s head because he trusted her , but his friend might still try.

Love was a game to Soton. Until now, he’d valued the friendship despite the womanizing.

People were never all good or all bad; they were a mix of both and, in friendship, as in marriage, you accepted the bad because of the good.

But he’d started to question how much of a friend Soton had really been.

Two single, randy young men out for a good time, one had better luck with females than the other—nothing unusual about that.

However, Soton usually got the girl. Falkor knew he was just as handsome as his friend, and, when the mood suited him, he could turn on the charm.

Plus, he had a title, which Soton lacked. Shouldn’t he have had better luck?

So, why hadn’t he?

Because at the first sign of Falkor’s interest in a woman, Soton had waged a campaign of seduction, like they were in competition to get the girl.

He won’t win this time. Not with my wife. He wouldn’t allow it, and she was too smart to fall for his practiced charm. She had pegged Soton as a player.

But could Soton succeed in making Falkor less in her eyes? As the spare—which Soton frequently, jokingly pointed out, he’d always taken second place. Second to Jaryk, second to the throne, second to his parents, second to the women he’d set his sights on.

The other women hadn’t mattered; Karma mattered very much. She might be leaving at the end of the year— might ?—but he cared about her. He longed for her to care about him, respect him, see him as somebody worthy of first place.

He rolled over to find her side of the bed vacant. He sat up. “Karma?”

The bath chamber door was ajar. He slid out of bed and tiptoed toward it. “Are you in here?”

Not inside. He padded into the parlor. Unoccupied. The spare bedroom and the workshop were also vacant. Where would she have gone so early? And why? He paced and then spied something on the balcony. What is that?

He moved closer. Karma’s slippers! What were her shoes doing out here? He stepped onto the balcony, and a movement in the grotto caught his attention. He peered over the railing.

Moonlight danced on his wife’s bare backside as she glided through the pond. He blinked. “Karma? What are you doing?” His gaze shifted to a puddle of nightclothes beside the pool.

She stopped swimming and turned toward him; water lapped at her shoulders. She waved. “Come on in! The water’s great!”

“It’s not morning yet!”

“I couldn’t take a moonlight swim in the daytime.”

“How did you get down there? You didn’t climb down the trellis?” He glanced at the frame clinging to the wall. “You could have fallen and gotten hurt!” He recalled sharing how he used to climb down the trellis. But he’d been a reckless adolescent.

“But I didn’t. So, why don’t you join me?” she invited again.

A surge of heat and yearning coursed through him.

* * * *

After retiring, she’d fallen asleep right away but bolted awake hours later, her brain obsessing over the tarot reading and its possible implications. Afraid she would toss and turn, she slipped out of bed so she didn’t disturb Falkor.

Outside on the balcony, the delicate perfume of night lilies, a flower that bloomed in darkness, scented the balmy air. Moonlight reflected off the midnight-blue pond nestled among leafy plants, and she recalled Falkor’s story of how he used to skinny-dip.

She kicked off her mules, afraid they could trip her, and tested the trellis with a hard shake. Nimbly, she climbed down and dropped onto a cushion of velvet-soft moss.

Padding to the pool, she dipped her foot in the water. Cool, but not cold. How deep was it? Glancing at the shrouded windows, she pulled her nightgown over her head.

She waded into cool, placid water. A couple of meters in, the sandy-sloped bottom took a sudden drop-off, and she found herself shoulder-deep.

Rolling onto her back, she floated for a while, staring at the stars and moon, before shifting and swimming laps across the pool. That was when she heard her name.

She felt bold and naughty as she issued her invitation. She didn’t know if he’d accept or not. The prince had turned out to be much more responsible, sensible, and serious than he’d first seemed. She suspected much reported about him was outright false—and what was true was misunderstood.

To her delight, he swung his leg over the balcony railing and descended the trellis.

In a few steps, he stood at the water’s edge.

Moonlight played on his handsome face and danced off his shoulders.

Good Goddess, he’s attractive. Her heart fluttered.

His eyes were unreadable, his blue hair appearing as black as ebony.

Cupping her hand, she splashed a little in his direction. “What are you waiting for? Dive in—well, don’t dive. The water’s shallow where you are.”

He undid the tie of his robe and let the garment slide off his shoulders revealing his satiny, boxer-like dark sleep shorts.

The moon spotlighted his masculine, muscular physique.

The prince was built! She’d previously caught glimpses before he doused the lights and jumped into bed.

She waited with bated breath for him to drop trou, but he waded into the water with his shorts on.

He stopped in front of her. Water lapped at his six-pack abdomen. “It’s nice.”

“Very nice,” she agreed, not talking about the water.

“You shouldn’t have climbed down here. It’s dangerous.”

“You did it.”

“I’m an old pro.” He looked away. “Besides, I’m expendable.”

“You’re not expendable. Not to me.”

His eyes blazed with heat, and suddenly she was warm, very warm despite the coolness of the water.

“I woke up, and you were gone. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you in the pond.

Promise if you get a hankering for a nighttime swim, you’ll wake me, and we can come down together. Then I can catch you if you fall.”

I’m falling right now. Cupid’s arrow went zinging through her heart.

Such irony, she thought, recalling her initial dislike. He’d mistaken her for a maid, and she’d dubbed him a spoiled, entitled prince-boy.

Tongue-tied and awkward now, she defaulted to emergency protocol—brazenness. “You can catch me anytime,” she said, imitating Mae West’s voice, and then went weak at the knees at the yearning on his face.

And then his lips covered hers, and his tongue swept inside her mouth, and she went up in flames, hot desire coursing through her. She clung to him and kissed him back hard.

“Gods of Kaldor, you’re naked,” he muttered against her throat.

Goddess, he was rock-hard, his erection pressing against her belly.

“You can’t skinny-dip with clothes on,” she said.

He let out an agonized chuckle. “You’re going to kill me.”

“No…no. I have other plans for you.” She tugged his head down to kiss him again.

He hesitated. “Are you sure about this?”

Only about this. She’d figure out the rest later. “Why not? We’re married, aren’t we?” she quipped, and then her heart clenched. Please don’t say, we’re married in name only. Please.

Instead, he smiled. “That, we are.” He ducked his head and kissed her with all the fervor she longed for.

His sodden sleep shorts hooked on his erection when she tried to pull them down. She giggled. Then he fell over and went under, coming up sputtering and laughing, but the shorts were gone. She gazed at him shamelessly, then humor faded, replaced by an aching yearning.

I need this. I need him.

She cupped his cheek, rubbing his jawline and the sexy rasp of a night’s growth. He pressed his mouth to her palm. She stroked his soft lips. He nipped her finger.

He pulled her into a tight embrace and covered her mouth, his tongue seeking and twining with hers. His exotic musk mixed with the fragrance of night lilies, causing her head to swoon as if she’d overindulged in potent Kaldoran spirits.

Weak at the knees, she clutched at his shoulders.

“Don’t drown.”

Too late. She was drowning in sensation and emotion.

He lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. The head of his cock brushed against her pussy, and her insides went liquid at the promise.

Holding her tight, he waded out of the water. When he cleared the pond, he let her slide down his body until her feet touched soft moss. Desire and cool water had beaded her nipples. He ducked his head and drew a tip into his mouth, sending pleasurable pangs from breast to womb.

His wet, thick hair felt like liquid silk as she combed the short strands with her fingers.

He pulled the clip from her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders.

She traced the shape of his cute, pointy ears.

He sucked on a nipple then nuzzled the sensitive skin of her throat, eliciting a moan from her lips.

When his cock pressed against her stomach in a seductive invitation, she encircled his hot, hard, girth.

Except for his blue pubic hair and some ridges, his anatomy didn’t differ much from a human.

A soft crown topped a slightly ridged erect shaft with a ball sac snug below his manhood. She stroked his cock.

“So…good.” He sucked in a breath and hissed in a purely male way.

She realized she no longer thought of him as an alien. He was just Falkor. My husband.

The rising daystar had begun to bathe the grotto in warm, gentle light, the better to appreciate his masculine handsomeness.

“Let’s lie down before I fall over,” he suggested and guided her to the moss-covered ground. The low-growing plants felt like a bed of velvet against her skin, a sensual experience in itself.

His forearms bracketed her body as he stared down at her with a bemused, passionate expression. “I was attracted to you from the moment I laid eyes on you.” He traced her lip line with a gentle finger, causing her mouth to tingle.

She arched her eyebrows. “You didn’t act like it.”

“My feelings didn’t seem…appropriate.”

“You didn’t want to sleep with the hired help?” No longer offended by his misconception, her mouth twisted with wry humor. She’d long ago forgiven him, and more important things captured her attention—like the magnificent erection pressing against her leg.

“Didn’t think sleeping with my brother’s bride’s sister would be good for fraternal harmony. Besides that, you disliked me. I didn’t think I had a chance with you.”

“We were both idiots.”

“You want to know a secret?” he whispered in her ear. “I was glad when the king and queen insisted we get married. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I was.”

Glad now , she couldn’t say she’d been glad then . She’d been furious. He’d always struck her as handsome, but she’d soon realized he wasn’t the entitled, spoiled prince but humble, earnest, hard-working, honest. Even sexier.

How ironic would it be if a temporary, shotgun marriage led to a forever love? Did she dare to hope he might go the distance and stick by her through thick and thin? Or would his interest wane like it had with every other man?

I want his love, not just his desire. I want this marriage to work.

His magic hands cupped her breasts, smoothed over her tummy, and then delved between her legs, stroking her clit with the perfect touch to heighten her already significant arousal. She arched and let out a moan. “Good, so good.”

Kaldoran female anatomy must not be so different from human. A spate of jealousy surged. He must have a lot of practice —

“Oh, Goddess!” Her head fell back when he replaced his fingers with his mouth. Hedonistic sensation obliterated worries, all rational thought.

He brought her to a shattering orgasm, and, while she still rode the wave, he licked her to another climax. Her pussy was still fluttering with aftershocks when he shifted position and guided his cock to her entrance.

Her greedy pussy gripped his cock as he thrust. Their lips met in a passionate, wet, open-mouthed kiss. She tasted herself on him. She hugged him tight, meeting thrust for thrust, and soared to another orgasm.

His body tensed. He thrust harder and faster, and then, with a growl and a bellow, he climaxed, his body shuddering.

Afterward, he did not roll away or fall asleep or grab his clothes and run because he had an early morning meeting. Instead, he pulled her into a secure embrace. She smiled against his sweat-dampened chest. That ought to hold me for a while. “I’ll have to give that five stars,” she said.

“Only five?” He sounded a little out of breath.

“Six?”

He arched his eyebrows.

“Are you begging for stars?”

“Every one that you’ll give me.”

“You can have all the stars in the sky.” It was full daylight now. She scanned the palace windows, verifying they were still shuttered.

“Nobody can see,” he said. “Remember, this is a private area; the rooms across the way are vacant.”

“Still, I feel a little exposed being stark naked.” Under the cover of darkness, it had felt safe. But in the light of day? For all her flamboyance, she was rather modest.

“Let’s go in, then.” He rolled to his feet and extended a hand to help her up. “Breakfast?”

“Are you buying?”

“Whatever the lady desires.”

She slow-kissed him. “You. I desire you.”