Page 9 of Double Bind (Cosmic Mates #6)

“You guys didn’t wait for us,” Bragg complained when he and Faith appeared at the table, trays in hand.

The best-laid plans… Marshall stifled a groan of frustration and glanced at Amity. She kept her face expressionless. Their plan had been to finish dinner and vacate the mess hall before the others showed up.

“Yeah,” he said.

“We got back a little earlier than expected,” Amity supplied, scooting over so Faith could slide onto the bench. Reluctantly, he made room for Bragg.

“You got the furniture delivered?” Bragg asked.

“Yeah.” He continued to eat, and Amity did the same.

After their kiss, he’d pushed the speed to the max, burning through two solar batteries. They’d arrived at Fair Shake probably in record time. While Marshall and two alien men unloaded the conveyance, Amity had dashed into the mercantile, returning with gloves and pants—a set for each of them—just as he closed up the bed of the empty wagon.

“Perfect timing,” he’d said.

“Ready to go?” she’d asked with a bright smile.

“Ready.”

They’d hopped into the conveyance and hightailed it to Artisan’s Loft. He parked in the motor pool, and then they raced to the cabin to shower and then rushed to the mess hall to beat the crowds and avoid their friends. If they hadn’t missed lunch, they would have skipped dinner, but they hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and they were going to need energy for the night ahead.

“What is Fair Shake like?” Faith asked.

“All right, I guess,” Amity said. “I didn’t see much.”

“Why not?”

“We left as soon as the wagon got unloaded.”

Faith scowled at him as if he’d been responsible for the rush and then asked Amity, “So, you didn’t even get to go to their mercantile?”

“I popped in.” She shrugged. “Got some pants. Gloves.” She finished off the last bite of her meal.

Bragg glanced between him and Faith. “You two had another fight, didn’t you?”

“No,” he said.

“No,” Amity said. “You want my dessert?” She pushed her gooey cake toward her friend. They’d had it before; it was quite delicious.

“You don’t want it?” Faith said.

“You can have mine.” Marshall plopped his onto Bragg’s tray. “We need to go.” He and Amity stood up.

“We’ll catch up later,” Amity tossed out over her shoulder as he hustled her from the mess hall. “They probably think we’re rude,” she said. “We were, kind of.”

“Would you rather they think we’re horny?” He slipped his arm through hers.

Her cute, feminine giggle shot straight to his hard-on. He’d sat through dinner with a throbbing woody. She hugged his arm, and the swell of her breast sent another jolt through him.

As soon as they entered the cabin, coats went flying. “I thought they were never going to shut up,” he said. “Come here.”

His mouth fused to hers in a needful kiss. He’d fantasized about this moment all day.

She moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck, clinging to him in the most satisfying way. They kissed, long and deep with tongues and lips. He held her tight against him, letting her feel his erection, hot and hard for her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d desired a woman this much—maybe never.

My wife. My wife. His possessiveness surprised him. The marriage that had seemed like a prison sentence had become a joy.

He’d gotten a good idea of how she was built from their nightly, torturous cuddling sessions, but he hadn’t been free to explore. Now, he roamed his hands over her body, her shoulders, back, and buttocks. He slipped his hands around to the front, moving under her shirt to cup her bare breasts. Her nipples were hard beads against his palms.

She tugged at his shirt, and he hastily undid the fastenings and flung the garment aside. She smoothed her hands over his chest, and he sucked in a gasp of satisfaction to have her touch him with intention and desire.

He kissed her hard and deep, his tongue plundering, as if that could sate the craving clawing through him.

She tugged at his pants now. “You’re wearing way too many clothes.”

“I could say the same of you.”

She pulled her heavy shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor. Shoes and pants went next, followed by panties. She had full, perfect rose-tipped breasts, a slender waist, and womanly hips. Shapely legs narrowed to slender ankles. Even her feet were cute.

“Are you just going to stare at me?”

“I guess I could stare and undress at the same time.” He kept his eyes on her, kicking his shoes off so hard, one flew across the room and thunked against the door.

She laughed. “Eager much?”

“Much.” He shoved his pants and briefs off together. His cock jutted out, resting against his abdomen.

A teasing smile played on her lips as her gaze lingered on his naked form. “That was worth waiting for.”

“There’s more to come,” he joked.

“I’m counting on it.”

He kissed her then, and it was pure bliss to press naked flesh to naked flesh. He guided her to the bed and flung off the covers, wanting no encumbrances to impede upon their coupling. He thanked his foresight to stoke the stove before dinner, ensuring the cabin would be warm upon their return—and for showering ahead of time. Claustrophobia was a poor aphrodisiac.

But he couldn’t imagine even that could have doused his ardor. He reveled in her, caressing and kissing her neck, her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. He explored her womanly folds with fingers and mouth, her arching back and cries of ecstasy testing his self-control.

He shuddered when she grasped and stroked his cock, teasing him to the brink of passionate torment.

Gripped by a heated tension, he slipped into her wet, tight warmth, shuddering at the intensity of sensation. In pleasure, they rocked in perfect sync, scaling the heights of ecstasy.

Her orgasmic cries ignited his climax, and he came with a supernova explosion, his body engulfed in a fireball of burning bliss. Convulsing, he spilled himself into her, emptying himself of more than his seed. He could feel the ties to the past breaking and vaporizing.

Chest heaving, drained, replete, he braced on his forearms to avoid crushing her with his weight as he recovered. He kissed her temple, her face, her ear. She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder and hugged his neck tighter.

Don’t let me go. Stay with me. Let’s do this thing called life together.

It wasn’t post-coital lassitude making him feel that way. He’d never felt this heady connection and belonging, ever. He’d used women for sexual release, yes, but he’d never had the urge to hang around until morning, let alone a lifetime. But that’s what he desired with Amity. A lifetime of dinners—hopefully some of them alone—pillow talk and bedtime fun and games. Rides across the tundra, and who knew what else. They would find out together.

“You weren’t kidding when you said there was more to come.” She smiled against his throat.

He chuckled.

There’d not been much to laugh about until meeting her. She showed him the humor in life, in the simple things. He loved her joyful giggle, her jokes.

He suspected his subconscious had known what he hadn’t. She was a woman worth keeping, one who could bring him happiness and a reason to live beyond existence. His subconscious had insisted he search for her when reason and experience had said it was pointless.

Yes, he was damn glad he married her.

“It ain’t over yet,” he said, hardening again.

“Ooh, more coming attractions?” She tightened her muscles around his cock.

“You know it, Wife.”