Colonist's Wife

“What about you? What did you do in the army?”

 

“Just grunt stuff, then later the piloting. Nothing interesting.” Because he’d learned a long time ago not to go into the details of special operations—the less said the better. Some of the things they’d done in the name of intelligence-gathering should stay buried for all eternity. Yes, they’d saved lives, but they’d taken them too. For the greater good or whatever—didn’t matter. They had been dark deeds.

 

“Mmm.” Her eyes remained fixed on the heavens. No reaction from her to the finger creeping beneath her clothing. He let the rest of his hand follow, sliding up her rib cage, his touch light.

 

“Adam.” She squirmed suddenly, rubbing her rear against his groin in a pleasant fashion. “Your hand’s cold.”

 

“Sorry.” And he was. He should have thought to warm it up first. But she hadn’t asked him to remove it, so he didn’t. “What kind of dress shop?”

 

“A women’s one.” She smiled.

 

“Cute.” Fingertips found the swell of a breast and the soft cotton of her bra. “What did your parents do?”

 

“Look, the colors are changing again.” She pointed to the sky and he took the opportunity to tuck a finger into the top of the cup of her bra and drag it down. His knuckle drifted over the soft peak of her nipple and it immediately tightened. “You’re being very distracting, Adam.”

 

“Am I?”

 

“Yes. Wow, look—now there’s some yellow coming into it. It’s spectacular. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

 

“Very nice.”

 

“You’re not even looking.”

 

“I’ve seen it before.” Adam plumped her delicate breast in his hand. Just the feel of her made him wild. A ravishing was not out of the question. “You were going to tell me about your parents.”

 

“Sure. Then we should talk about your mother’s communiqué.”

 

He ignored her comment and lightly drew the pad of his thumb back and forth across her nipple, coaxing it to life. It didn’t take much. Her breath hitched when he gave it a light pinch and her delightful rear wriggled in his lap again. “What did your parents do, princess?”

 

“My father was a programmer and my mother stayed home. Are there security cameras in this transport?”

 

“Yes, they’re on all the transports. But we’re not being monitored. I mean, most likely we’re not.”

 

She grabbed his arm, body stiffening. “Adam.”

 

“Relax—they can’t see a thing.” He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, slowly increasing the pressure, tugging lightly until she gave a breathy moan. The one noise that ensured there would be no blood left for his brain at all. “I promise you, they have no idea how sensitive your gorgeous tits are. Nor are they aware of how much you like having them played with.”

 

Louise’s back arched against his hold, her teeth pinching her lip. “Stop it. What if someone is listening?”

 

“Well, yes. That could be embarrassing.” His cock was a steel pike in his jeans and she kept making those tight little movements, hips jerking. “Better tell me more about your life before I get carried away and start talking about how luscious the cheeks of your—”

 

“Adam,” she panted. “I thought you wanted to see the lights.”

 

“Yeah, they’re real nice. Wonder if I could make you come just by playing with your nipples? What do you think, princess?”

 

His wife gave a sexy growl, making the heat in his balls excruciating. No other woman would do. Only this one drove him nuts each and every time. “What do you want to know?”

 

“No siblings, hmm?”

 

“No. Let me up.” She made a half-assed attempt at rising. “Now, Adam.”

 

“No. You don’t want to get up. Tell me about your past boyfriends.” He slid the cup of her bra down over her neglected left breast, fingers paying the warm, succulent mound due homage. Sweet, small sounds escaped Louise’s lips and she buried her face in his neck, trying to hide. Her legs were clamped tight, knees rubbing restlessly together. “How wet are you, princess?”

 

“A couple of boyfriends. No one as difficult as you.”

 

“Be nice. Would you like me to put my hand down your pants yet?”

 

“Someone could see,” she hissed.

 

“Do you really care?”

 

“Adam…”

 

“Be honest. You know you don’t.”

 

His pretty wife scowled. “Why must you torture me?”

 

“If it didn’t get you so hot, I swear I wouldn’t do it. I’m a reasonable man,” he said, thoroughly enjoying himself. In fact, he couldn’t remember when he’d had more fun. Marriage was a wonderful institution—the very best. “What did you say your father did again?”

 

“Teacher.” She whimpered and writhed in his hold, fingernails pricking his forearm. Blood would likely be drawn. “Gods, Adam. It feels so good.”

 

“Teacher?” His hand stilled, the hard bud of a nipple caught in his firm grip. “I thought you said he was a programmer?”