Page 27 of Chosen By Swift

The sounds she made shot straight to his cock, and he began to doubt whether he would be able to control himself much longer. Alys might be inexperienced and modest, but she wasn’t afraid to feel. She wasn’t afraid to follow his lead and let him guide her along the sensuous journey that awaited them as husband and wife.

He slid to his knees in front of her and gripped her waist. He buried his face between her breasts, luxuriating in the soft, plumpness. He let his mouth wander from nipple to nipple, suckling and teething lightly until she whimpered and trembled. When he glanced up at her, she gazed down at him with a look of wonder and desire. Pleased with her response, he kissed her belly and took hold of her underwear. It was the last bit of protection she wore, and he wanted it gone.

He dragged the fabric down her thick thighs and strong calves and let it pool around her feet. Everything about her body was so lush and soft. If burying his face between her breasts had been so good, he couldn’t wait to get between her legs. He wanted to map out her pussy with his tongue until he had memorized every last bit of her.

But that would have to wait.

He had a feeling she would be more relaxed and enjoy all the outrageously dirty things he wanted to do to her if she had showered. Women were funny like that. In his experience, at least. And, anyway, getting her in the shower was yet another excuse to touch and explore her body, this time with soapy hands.

He undressed quickly, not only because he was excited but also because itwas a habitto dress and undress efficiently. Everything about his uniform—from the shirt to the boots—was meant to be easy and fast. He grabbed her clothing from the counter and dropped it into the built-in hamper along with his. When he turned back, he noticed her wide-eyed stare. He wasn’t sure if it was a good stare or if she was terrified of what she saw.

Feeling self-conscious, he scratched his neck. “So, this is me.”

Her gaze moved from his chest to his eyes. She swallowed hard and seemed to be trying to find the right words. Finally, she said, “You’re very big.Everywhere.”

He figured that was a fair assessment. Curious, he asked, “Have you ever seen a naked man?”

“Sort of,” she said and blushed. “I saw the backside of a farm hand last summer. I was checking the traps, and he jumped into the river.”

“Traps?”

“Fish traps,” she explained. “With a family as big as ours, it’s more convenient to set traps when we’re busy on the farm. We can keep everyone in the fields or barn instead of babysitting lines on the river bank.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised she was capable of catching food as well as cooking it. “I’ve never fished.”

“Never?”

“Not once. Maybe you can teach me?”

“Adam would be better at that.”

He couldn’t help the flare of jealousy at the mention of another man. “Adam?”

“One of my older brothers,” she explained. Her gaze returned to his chest, and she pointed at his tattoos. “What are those?”

He touched the markings covering him from the right shoulder to the wrist. He had more on his back and upper right chest. “They’re tattoos. Ink markings that we use to display our victories. Do you not have these among your people?”

She shook her head and started to reach out to touch them. She pulled her hand back suddenly, as if embarrassed she had thought to touch him without asking. He grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest, dragging her enough that her breasts brushed against his chest. “Touch me, Alys.”

Her hands felt so good on his skin. It had been so long since anyone had touched him with such gentleness. He couldn’t remember any woman touching him with such reverence. Her fingertips glided over his skin, tracing the outlines of his tattoos. His graduation emblem. His first ever flight. The day he earned his wings. The first time he fought in an air battle. The first time he took down a Splinter ship. Victory. Death. Victory. Death.

“Why only this side?”

“In our culture, we reserve the left side for our family.” He covered her hand with his own and dragged it across his chest to the spot just above his heart. “We’ll take my family’s crest and add our own touches. When we have children, they’ll be added as well.” He lowered his hand, but hers stayed on his chest. He carefully unbuckled her collar so it wouldn’t get wet. “You may remove this when bathing, but you are never to leave our quarters without it around your neck.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And when our probationary period is over, we’ll pick out something in a different color for you.” He eyed her neck and thought of how lovely a pale green would look there. “If you want it, I'm willing to discuss a ring. I’m told they’re important in your culture.”

“They are,” she said, “but I’m not sure if it matters since we aren’t married properly.”

He detected a bit of worry in her voice and wanted to reassure her. “We have the ability to conduct weddings here.”

“Are you religious?”

“No, but you are?”

She nodded. “Is that all right?”

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