Page 16 of Wanted by the Alien Warden (Cowboy Colony Mail-Order Brides #4)

16

TENN

A t the beginning of the night, I ceded Tasha the entirety of the bedroll. I was well warm enough without it, and I knew that sharing a bedroll would be even more difficult for her standards of professionalism than sharing the tent would be.

The only problem was that sleeping Tasha seemed to feel differently than awake Tasha.

She fell asleep quickly. Much more quickly than me. No, I was busy trying to ignore the pounding of my heart in my engorged shaft as she breathed softly beside me, her sweet scent filling the tent. To busy myself, I spent my time reading the book she wrote on my data tab.

That worked as a distraction. At first. Until, in sleep, she began to shift and slide and sleep-sidle closer.

It started subtly, with a stretch and a roll that left her bedroll open. Then, like an animal burrowing in search of heat, her body moved of its own volition towards mine. I lay, stiff as the metal frame of my slicer outside, when she touched me. First, with the surprisingly cold tip of her little nose against my arm. Then, a sleepy sigh, and the delirious press of a human thigh hitched up over my abdomen.

Her leg was not very heavy. Tell me, then, why it suddenly became so difficult to breathe?

Perhaps this was punishment for the information that was withheld from her before. And she now meant to torture me with snuggles.

Masturbation and suffering, Tenn. That truly is your new lot in life.

The suffering was all well and good. I was chest-deep in it now. There was, however, no way to relieve the stiffness of my cock. Not like this, not with her so innocently, torturously asleep beside me.

I would have thought, in the midst of that sort of agony, that sleep would have been impossible. But clearly, it wasn’t, because when I woke next, dawn had already heaved itself over the horizon. A greyish light seeped into the tent as I blinked dust and sleep from my eyes. I inhaled slowly, my nose and mouth pressed tightly to soft, fragrant hair.

Human hair.

Blast it all to Zabria and back. My body had evidently participated in the same sleep shifting that Tasha’s had. We were on our sides, facing each other. My arms were around her back, one of my open hands serving as her pillow, the other…

The other was inside her shirt.

Blast. How…?

Yes. There was no avoiding it, no denying it. In sleep, my mutinous, perverted hand had wandered inside the jamjigolo top I’d sewn for her. My left palm was sealed to her spine, my fingers splayed across her lower back.

By the empire, but she was soft.

And I… I wasn’t.

My cock gave a hot throb.

I could not let her find me like this. Wrapped around her, my hand not only on her, but inside her jamjimmies. She’d probably end the bridal program and leave the planet on the strength of this scandal alone.

I drew back, just a little, and was about to pry my hand from the sensuous warmth of her skin. But as soon as I tensed to do it, a pucker formed between her slim, pale brows, and she made a sleepy sound of complaint.

Well. What the blazes am I supposed to do with that?

If I moved even one portion of a muscle, she’d awaken, and it would all be for naught, anyway.

I’d just have to stay here for now.

I sighed without thinking. My breath coasted over her face, making stray hairs rustle across her forehead and cheeks. Her full lips tipped up at the corners, then parted.

I remembered seeing Cherry and Darcy kiss their husbands at their wedding ceremonies. I’d felt slightly intrigued but mostly baffled by the human custom.

I was not baffled now.

Now, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to taste Tasha’s slightly open mouth with mine. Her lips were so pink, plush and wet on the inside.

This was not helping the hard cock situation.

If I kept staring at her mouth and imagining putting my tongue inside there, I was going to ejaculate in my trousers. Which, of course, was unacceptable.

I stopped staring at her mouth, but then I was staring at her flushed cheeks, or the delicate shells of her eyelids, or that hair I longed to sift through my claws. It was all bad. Every bit of her was a perfect storm of warden-destroying temptation.

So I closed my eyes and did not look at any bit of her.

This proved to be wise, as not long afterwards, she stirred. I knew the moment she left sleep’s safety and entered consciousness, because the previously languorous quality of her limbs immediately evacuated the premises, leaving her rigid and breathing shallowly.

“Fuck.”

I feigned sleep, figuring that my wakefulness would not help now. I kept my breaths deep and even.

Now, it was Tasha’s turn to disentangle herself from me without causing me to wake. She seemed to think that this current entanglement of our positioning was her fault. She didn’t shout in anger or demand that I remove my hands from her.

No, like a convict herself, one who had something to hide from her warden, she slithered out from under my arm, pushed it back to my side, and then hurried from the tent.

When she was gone, I breathed out, wretched and ragged.

Then, I shoved my hand down my pants.

I hesitated, my heated organ trapped in my fist. Was I really going to do this? Was I really this weak? So weak that I was going to stroke myself to climax, alone and pining for the human who’d just left me here?

Yes. Yes I was.

Perhaps it was not simple weakness, I reasoned as my hand jerked powerfully. Perhaps I was just weak for her.

I wasn’t sure that was any better. But it certainly felt truer.

Quick. I’d have to be quick. Who knew when she’d be back? I could only imagine what she’d think if she found me now with my hand in my trousers while I huffed the last remnants of her scent from the bedding.

I didn’t need to force myself to be quick, though. A few rough pumps of my fist and I was already there, already pulsing with that hot edge of release. My stiff flesh jumped in my hand. My cock tail spasmed and writhed. Beneath it all, my sack drew tight, contracting with pleasure.

I barely pulled down my pants and wrenched the bed roll out of the way in time. Choking back a groan, I painted the dirt with the glistening ropes of my desire. The mess I made swam before my throbbing vision. My lungs burned.

With a raspy grunt, I covered the seed I’d spilled with loose dirt. I shoved myself back into my pants.

Then, I got to work packing the bedroll and swiftly taking down the tent so that Tasha would never see what I’d done.