“Alys!” Rampage growled her name, heralding his climax. He tipped his head back and shuddered. His seed splashed her tongue, much less than she had expected and nearly without taste.
She didn’t have long to ponder why that was. The sight of another man filling his wife’s mouth with seed seemed to have unleashed something primal in Swift. He manhandled her onto her back and clambered over her. He thrust deep, and she cried out, clawing at his back. He slammed into her again and again, rough and wild.
“You’re mine,” he growled into her ear. “You’re mine, Alys. Mine. Mine.”
“I’m yours,” she whimpered, raking her nails against his shoulders. “I’m yours. I’m yours, Swift.”
“Mine.” He caught her mouth in a punishing kiss, and in the heat of the moment, she climaxed. It was an unexpected explosion of ecstasy that left her shaking and clutching at Swift. He followed a moment later, thrusting so deep that she was sure she would have bruises on her inner thighs. He placed more frantic kisses along her temple and cheek. “Mine.”
“Yours,” she said, stroking his head. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as he shuddered and shook against her.
Vaguely, she was aware of Rampage moving off the bed. She couldn’t see him over Swift’s massive body. She closed her eyes and relaxed into the heat and pressure of Swift on top of her. Finally, he shifted away, but he seemed unable to let go of her. He kept a hand on her hip, holding her close.
She shot him an amused smile. “Swift, I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know,” he said, but didn’t let go. He seemed to be more affected by sharing her than he had anticipated. She hadn’t yet come to terms with her thoughts on it so she let it go for now. Later, they would have to talk.
On the other side of the room, Rampage took his time getting dressed. As he slipped on his boots, he announced, “I’m leaving the Valiant in four days.”
“What?” Swift sat up in shock. “Why? When was this decided?”
“A few days ago, I made up my mind.” He zipped up the side of one boot and latched the strap across the front. “I’m no good up here anymore. It doesn’t feel right. I want grass under my feet.”
“Where are you going?” Swift asked, clearly upset by the sudden departure of his friend.
“I’ve taken a position at the main base we’re building outside The City. It’s actually a promotion,” he said with a lopsided smile.
“Congratulations, Rampage.” She smiled at him, and he laughed, probably struck by how strange this all was after the burst of arousal and sexual gratification had faded.
“Thanks, Alys.” He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. “For everything.”
She smiled again. “Thank you for being so kind.”
Rampage nodded and then glanced at Swift. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” Swift confirmed.
After Rampage left, Alys dropped back down to the bed. Her body hummed with delicious effects of lovemaking, and she considered falling asleep for a little while. She had been so tired the last few days. A little nap sounded delightful.
But when Swift rose from the bed, she decided it was time to go. She made use of the private bathroom attached to the rented room and then pulled on her clothing and shoes. Swift helped zip her dress before taking her hand and leading her out of the club.
Back in their quarters, they went straight for a shower. They were both sticky with sweat, and a hot shower was just what they needed. It was nice to reconnect, just the two of them, in the intimate space of their shower. They took turns cleaning each other before drying off and slipping into their pajamas.
She dropped onto their couch, and Swift made his way to the kitchen to scrounge up a late-night snack of cheese and crackers and fruit. They didn’t talk about what had happened yet. It was as if they both needed a little more time to process the event.
“I’m stealing this last berry,” she said before swiping it off the plate they were sharing.
“Then this cracker is mine,” he decided and snatched it away.
She enjoyed the silly way he behaved around her. Swift had his faults, and so did she. Together, they just worked. It was a perfect combination, and even though she was certain there would be arguments and moments of irritation in the future, she couldn’t imagine spending her life with anyone else.
After Swift had taken away the empty plate and cups, he returned to the couch and beckoned her to cuddle up close. She snuggled in tight, and he gently combed his fingers through her wet hair. She felt so precious and adored. She was safe with him, protected, and she knew in that moment that this one tryst had been enough.
“Swift?”
“Yes?”
“I’m not curious any more.” She traced her fingers along the new scar on his face from his latest mission. “You’re all I need.” Her feelings toward Swift crystallized, and she confessed, “I’m falling in love with you.”
Swift exhaled with what must have been relief and joy. He pressed his forehead to hers and confessed, “I love you, Alys. I think I have since that day you taught me to make bread.”
“Well,” she said with a teasing smile, “my mother did always say the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.”
“Wise woman,” he agreed with a little laugh. More seriously, he said, “Tonight was fun, and I enjoyed it. I enjoyed watching you experiencing something new.”
“But?” she asked, already knowing his answer.
“I’m not sure I can do it again.” He winced as he admitted, “I’ve been in situations like that before, but I never felt jealous or insecure like I did tonight.”
“You weren’t the husband in those other arrangements,” she pointed out. “Tonight, you were.”
“Not legally yet,” he said, surprising her. “We should change that.”
She blinked. “Are you proposing?”
“Yes?” He made an apologetic face. “I suppose this isn’t very romantic. The cultural brief mentioned flowers and a gift and getting down on one knee.”
“I don’t need romantic, Swift.” She really didn’t. She had always been a practical woman. “I only need you.”
Swift captured her hand and brought it to his bare chest. His heartbeat thumped beneath her fingertips. “You’ve got me until the day I die, Alys.”
“That better be a long, long time from now,” she said, her eyes glimmering with hot tears.
“I’ll do my best,” he promised and then lovingly kissed her. “I’ll do my best.”
Chapter Twenty
Three Weeks Later
Rather impatiently, Swift held Alys’ hand and wished the pastor in front of them would hurry up his sermon. She had warned him that some of these preachers could be long-winded, but he hadn’t realized it would take this long to get married. In this, at least, his people seemed to have it right. A question. An answer. A collar. Done.
But the pastor droned on and on about obedience, reverence, modesty, discretion, procreation and sin. Swift gave up trying to pay attention and instead pinned his gaze pinned on Alys who looked so beautiful in her white dress. No. Not white. Ivory. She had been very clear that she absolutely could not be married in any shade of pure white after all the wicked things they had done in bed. Wicked. Her word, not his.