Read Colonist's Wife Online

Authors: Kylie Scott

Tags: #Erotica

Colonist's Wife (7 page)

“It’s my husbandly duty to help.”

“Is it now?” Her chin sunk to her chest, her head lolling forward. “Hurry, Adam.”

He hummed his disapproval. “It’s better if you wait.”

“You owe me.”

“That I do. Fair enough.”

He zeroed in her clit, rubbing either side, massaging and plumping the hard bead. The scent of her arousal grew heavy on the air, spurring him on. Louise tightened her hold on his hand, grinding bones together, and a long, low moan escaped her lips.

It was the sweetest sound in the universe.

“You can’t be too loud though, princess,” he murmured in her ear. Partly because it was the truth but more for the fun of it. “Shhh.”

Her pelvis bucked against his hand, which was telling.

He gently, quickly thrummed her clit and she fell into climax. Hottest thing he’d ever seen. Her pussy quivered against his palm. With a strangled cry, her whole body jolted, stiffening then wilting in his hold. Making Louise come was a wonderful thing.

Her breathing was full of static and the back of her neck damp with salty sweat. Impossible to resist—and why would he? She squirmed when he licked her, rubbing her rear against his hard cock. This woman—what she did to him. His stomach muscles clenched tight with need.

“All right?” he asked, slowly removing his hand from her pants, careful to make sure her legs would hold her.

“Very,” she sighed.

“Hmm.” Adam sucked his fingers clean and the side of her mouth slid into a lopsided grin. “You’re tastier than the food at Hali’s.”

“High praise.”

“Truth,” he said.

She stared at the lagoon, dark eyes a mystery. “We really going to do this?”

“Yes.” The “please” stayed silent. Coming from a position of strength could be important during negotiations.

Her shoulders rose as she breathed deeply. “I’ve never been skinny-dipping. You’d better be right about those cameras.”

“I am. No one gets to see your bare ass but me.”

“It’s big. And my breasts are small.”

“You’re wrong. Very wrong.” He shook his head and stood, started in on his belt buckle, then his fly. “Get your clothes off.”

But she hesitated, remaining on her knees. “First this.”

Cool hands slipped over his stomach, fingers sliding beneath the waist of his boxer-briefs. Excitement almost undid him. Dark eyes looked candidly up at him. When she licked her lips, he damn near swallowed his tongue.

“Don’t you think?” she asked.

As if he would disagree. “Oh whatever makes you happy.”

His cock sprang into her hand as if she had it tamed. Louise guided it to her waiting mouth, hot and wet and eager. She took nearly half of his cock at once and gave a couple of hard sucks, then pulled back, concentrating on the head, traveling all over it with her tongue. Adam locked his knees and held on.

What a lovely thing a wife was. Fuck…she was. Really, really lovely. He would be sure to tell her as soon as he could speak.

Reverently, he shaped his hands to her head and stroked her hair. She made a humming sound that reverberated through him in a most painfully pleasant way. His whole body shook. Fingers cupped his balls and massaged them gently, rubbed at the sweet spot behind his sac. His toes dug into the soles of his shoes and tension gathered at the base of his spine. So damn good. Too, too good. It had to stop. Because as nice as it would be to come in her mouth, he really did want to get into the lagoon with her, and the fact was that this was a public space—someone could come along. They couldn’t afford to dally too long.

“Stop,” he said in a choppy voice.

She pulled slowly back from his engorged cock, which was shiny and wet with her saliva. Louise waited on her knees for him. Gods, but she was a divine sight. He felt like a king receiving his due. Only he had never done anything nearly worthy of her.

“Why?” she asked.

“In the water,” he croaked, and held his hands down to her, brought her to her feet. “I want to fuck you in the water.”

They undressed quickly, quietly, and he helped her to step into the cooling pool. The temperature had no effect on his angry, throbbing cock. He drew her deeper, keeping a hand on the rocks lining the edge. They didn’t stop ’til her breasts bobbed, her nipples playing peek-a-boo with the surface. She was perfect. Her hair sat slick against her skull and a bead of water fell from the tip of an eyelash.

So pretty he could only stare.

“Louise,” he said, and she pulled closer. Arms twined about his neck and her breath was warm on his face. Her dark eyes were huge. He could have fallen straight into them. She had to be some sort of hypnotist, his wife. A voodoo priestess.

“You know, I think I prefer ‘princess’.”

“Princess it is.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist and he filled his hands with her, pulling her close and kissing her as he had needed to for hours. Not stopping ’til they were both panting and her mouth was even more wet and swollen. He lifted and she squirmed and his cock found her, pushing deep into the heat of her body.

A perfect fucking fit. She’d been made for him. Any remaining blood in his brain left in a blazing rush. “Damn it.”

Her teeth gnawed at his jawline and her heels drummed his ass, a little demanding, which he liked a lot. “Fuck me, Adam.”

“Yes.” And he did.

He set a steady pace, thrusting into her with an arm anchoring them to the shoreline and his toes digging into the soft sand on the bottom of the pool. Fingers dug into his back and her pussy clutched at him as she did her part, pushing back onto his cock with soft grunts, taking all of him. His breath stopped, caught in his chest, and his balls drew up to his body.

It wouldn’t be long but he wouldn’t go alone. Not this time.

Adam grabbed her waist and changed his angle, enough to rub against her clit and hit her sweet spot. The startled noise from her confirmed it. Again and again he thrust into her. When her knees dug into his ribs and her cunt clamped down on him, he didn’t stand a chance. He was helpless against her, defenseless. He came and came until there was nothing left in him.

Adam held her to him in the water, enjoying the serenity, the post-come floating, mental and physical both. Loath as usual to break contact. Things were much simpler when they were naked together.

“Princess?”

“Yeah?”

“I love your body.”

The muscles in her arms and legs flexed and she snuggled in closer. “I love yours too—all lean and hard.”

“And I will never break your confidence again,” he continued.

His wife leaned back and her dark eyes searched his face. The moment felt charged with meaning—acceptance or rejection? He needed her trust. He wanted it. She made him wait for it for one hell of a long moment.

“I believe you,” she said finally.

Thank fuck.

“Good,” he said.

Chapter Five

Day Five

 

Louise came awake with a start. Someone sat a hand’s breadth from her face. They’d found her. She strangled a shriek and slapped a hand against a hard chest, adrenaline surging through her system like flood waters. Fight or flight. This was it.
Oh no.

“Hi.” Her husband frowned and calmly covered her hand with his own, nonplussed by her over-reaction. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Adam!” The gods damn heart attack kept right on in her chest.
Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Mmm?”

Her name was Louise and she was married. Married to this man, Adam Elliot.

Fuck a duck. Okay. Everything’s fine.

Apparently he had been lying there, nose to nose with her, watching while she slept. Which might have been kind of cute but he had scared the almighty crap out of her. Her ribs hurt and her throat stung from the pre-emptive heart attack.

“Great. You’ve been thinking.” Her breathing gradually slowed and her heart rate eased. Who knew how many years he’d taken off her life? “What about?”

“What we should do today.” He scooted closer and his hard-on nudged her in the thigh.

“Bet I can guess.”

Adam’s eyes crinkled and he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. “There’s that too. But I was thinking I could take you top-side—we could go and see the lights. There’s a good vantage point about an hour away.”

“What? Wait.” She freed her hand and sat up, rubbing her sleep-heavy head. “I’ve promised to do some jobs in the garden today.”

His dark brows pulled tight and he sat up too. “I’ve got today off, remember?”

“Yes, but you only told me last night,” she said. “Adam, if you’d given me some notice I would have kept it free.”

“You can go down to the gardens anytime.”

“But I promised to be there today.”

“You’re serious about this?”

“Yes. I am.”

The door com chimed and she slid from the bed, wrapped herself in her robe while her husband scowled at her. A lot like a spoiled child.

“How long will these jobs take?” he asked, with a definite hard edge to his voice, a snarly one. Which shouldn’t have been hot in the least, but he was buck-ass naked, the cheat.

“Five to six hours, normally. They’re really low on staff right now, Adam. I’m not going to leave them in the lurch. Especially not when I gave my word.”

She swiped her hand across the sensor. A fine-looking, straight-standing man waited at the door in a black company uniform. His brown hair had been neatly combed. She shoved a hand through her own and hoped for the best. Maybe she should have made Adam answer the door.

“Hello,” she said.

“Mrs. Elliot, it’s good to meet you. Though the circumstances are not what I’d wish.” The man put a hand out for shaking and she took it. He had spoken at the memorial, she remembered. His grip was firm but not too firm, and his smile warm. Mid-forties, perhaps? A good-looking mid-forties. His gaze held hers as he shook her hand, and for some reason she couldn’t look away. He had a definite presence.

“Chief.” Her husband appeared beside her dressed in pants and a T-shirt. Adam slid an arm around her waist, drawing her against his side. Staking his claim, maybe. “Princess, this is the chief of operations, Nathan Hillier.”

An amused smile flashed across the chief’s face at the mention of her moniker and he ducked his head, presumably to hide it for her sake. Bless her husband for opening his mouth.

“Come on in.” Her husband waved the man forward and the door slid shut behind him.

“Thank you. Adam, we’ve had a communiqué from your mother. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I’m afraid your father suffered a terminal heart attack. He passed at 1:20 a.m. yesterday.” The chief’s brow furrowed and he watched her husband closely. “I can get you on a ship in two days’ time. It’s only a freighter, but it’s the best I can do at short notice. Your mother has indicated that she’s willing to delay the funeral for you to be there, or hold a second ceremony upon your arrival.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Adam’s hand tensed on her hip but his voice stayed calm. “Thanks for the offer.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very.”

“All right.” The chief’s lips thinned and his eyes honed in on her husband with a kind of bleak, unhappy understanding. “They’re expecting word back. Wouldn’t you like to send something yourself?”

“No. Thank you.”

The chief’s gaze slid to her, but she had nothing to offer. She knew nothing of this situation with his family, not yet.

“All right.” The chief lifted a hand to the scanner and the door silently opened. “Let me know if you change your mind, Ad.”

“I will.” Her husband blinked repeatedly as the door slid closed. His jaw moved as if he were grinding stones with his teeth.

His father. How horrible. Her heart ached for him.

Her own parents had passed in a shuttle crash four years ago. It had been devastating. The loss had crushed her for a time and Con had been her solace, her strength. He hadn’t always been about greed and duplicity. Once upon a time he’d just been her boyfriend, the supposed love of her life. But he’d loved money more than he had her.

Louise placed her hand on Adam’s and squeezed it tight.

“Five to six hours?” he asked, continuing their earlier conversation without missing a beat. “So if I come and help we could be out of there in under three?”

Huh.

She nodded and he nodded right back.

“All right,” he said. “That still gives us plenty of time to get into a good position for the lights.”

“Hey.” Louise turned, stepping in to him ’til their chests pressed together. She cupped his face in her hands and his dark stubble scratched her palms. Her husband, her man—no matter the extraordinary circumstances that had brought them together—had to be hurting. The vacant gaze and the tautness of his mouth attested to it. She needed to comfort him, to do what she could. “Talk to me.”

No response.

“Adam?”

He looked into her face and grimaced, put his warm hands over hers and moved them down onto his cotton shirt. “I’m fine.”

“But…”

“Louise, I haven’t talked to my parents since they disowned me when I was seventeen. So yes, I’m fine.”

“What happened when you were seventeen?”

His hands tightened over hers and his blue eyes looked as if they carried the pain of the world. He spoke through gritted teeth. “I ran with a rough crowd when I was younger. Too stupid to know better. We got into a bar fight one night and someone died. It was an accident, but… He was about to shoot my friend, so I shot him. He died.”

“Oh.”

Adam had killed someone. Adam was…Adam was a killer. Her husband. No. It didn’t fit. It wasn’t right. She’d seen a killer at work and he hadn’t cared one iota for the blood spilled or the life lost. The killer had enjoyed putting a bullet into Con’s brain, the sick fuck. Her stomach roiled at the memory.

This pained Adam. Two decades later, the weight of it still bowed his shoulders. He looked as if he had aged simply in the telling. His eyes were tired, sad. It didn’t make sense. Her hands started shaking, a fine trembling he couldn’t help but feel.

“Did you go to jail?” Grimly, she forced herself to maintain eye contact.

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