Page 8 of Bride for the Space Cowboy

She leans toward me as I bend low to bring my mouth to hers. The initial touch is a brush, a scattering of sparks through the air. I hear the guttural groan rising inside me as I angle my mouth over hers, releasing her hand and palming her cheek as my fingers slide back to tangle in her hair and tilt her head to deepen our kiss.

It’s everything I remembered and more. Touching her feels as if I’ve come home. There’s a sense of rushing inside, water bursting forth, something breaking free inside me. The momentum of emotion and need spins faster and faster as I tumble into our kiss. I savor the way her tongue teases boldly against mine. My palm slides over the curve of her bottom as I pull her against me. I’m aching for her, down to my very bones.

The need drumming through me is unlike any I’ve ever experienced. It’s primal and visceral. Yet there’s a comfort in it as if we are spinning together in time.

Nadine makes a sweet, needy little sound in her throat, and I rock my hips against hers, desperate for her, desperate for more.

I want to luxuriate in her. I want time to slow and to absorb every increment of this kiss. Yet this competes with an overwhelming need to devour her. She tastes so good; she feelsso good. It feels as if I’ve come home to a being rather than a place.

The need for air eventually forces me to lift my head. We stare at each other, our ragged breathing filling the room. Need beats the drum of my heart fiercely. I take an unsteady breath and scramble to find some control, but it keeps slipping. I cannot step away from her. I know I have to wait. When it comes to this infinity pulse, it’s important to wait until after we are married to consummate.

I force myself to take a step back. I’m actually unsteady on my feet. That’s how close I’ve come to losing control. Nadine stares up at me, her eyes wide and dark with passion.

“We will marry,” I say.

“So…” She seems uncertain what she means to ask.

“In one week.”

Her pretty eyes study mine. “You won’t change your mind?”

I shake my head firmly. I’ve always known I must marry at some point. I thought perhaps after the storm that killed so many women on our planet that I would get a pass.

Now that I knew what it felt like to be with Nadine, no one else would do. I would either torture myself for the rest of my life or accept my fate.

“This isn’t my planet,” she says quietly and solemnly. “I have nowhere to go. You have to promise me.”

“I always keep my word. I promise.” I close the bit of distance between us. I have to kiss her again. I have to taste her again.

Everything is imbued with a deep intimacy twined within an intense arousal and passion that I’ve never experienced before.

I’m accustomed to feeling in control and like I can handle things. With Nadine, my control slips free instantly. Her tongue glides against mine, and she tastes so good and feels so soft. I hear the growl in my throat and the groan when her hand splayson my chest. I need more. Something to tide me over, something to carry me through the week until we can marry.

I nudge her back slightly until her hips bounce against a table that runs the length of the wall. I slide my hand down her thigh, reaching for her skirt. I fist it in my hand and drag it up. Her skin is soft and silky, and I cup my palm over her mound. She lets out this little whimper, a needy little cry.

I break free to stare into her dark eyes. “I need to touch you,” I rasp.

Her audible swallow is like a lash of the whip, spurring me along. It’s fuel poured on the fire of my desire, sending the flames licking higher and higher.

I tease my fingers over the silk covering her sweet pussy, gratified to find it wet. I hook a finger in the edge of her panties, pushing them out of the way as I delve my fingers into her slippery wet folds.

“Oh!” Nadine cries out.

Fuck me. Every sound she makes swells my cock even more.

I bury my fingers knuckle deep inside her. Her pussy clenches, and I watch as her breaths come in ragged gasps. Even though I didn’t mean to take it this far, I must feel her come apart.

Her eyelids begin to drop. “Stay with me. Look at me,” I say.

She drags her eyes open again, her gaze heavy and hot on mine. I pump my fingers, teasing my thumb over her swollen clit.

“I want to feel you come all over my fingers,” I rasp.

She takes a shuddery breath, her hips rocking as I add a third finger, stretching her a little more. I feel her quickening, her breasts rising and falling rapidly.

“Now,” I order as I swirl my thumb around her clit.

She cries out, her hips rocking to meet my touch. Her pussy tightens around my fingers. She shudders all over, and one of her palms slaps the table behind her.

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