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Amidst a Crowd of Stars
Amidst a Crowd of Stars Read online
Dedication
To anyone who’s ever loved through the years, and to Superman for doing all the heavy lifting.
Today
The medica was young, perhaps just out of the training academy. She still wore her uniform crisp and pressed, her blue hair slicked back from her forehead and held in place by the woven band marked with the symbols of her profession. She gave the man at the patient’s bedside a warm grin and patted his shoulder.
“How nice of you to stay with your grandma all night.”
The man was handsome enough to make her flutter her eyes. His dark hair, streaked by the harsh Lujawedan sun, fell to his shoulders in sheaves that made her fingers itch to run through it.
His hair might show the effects of the sun, but his face showed no sign of weathering. He smiled, his hand in the patient’s, thumb stroking the paper-thin skin of her hand over and over.
“This is my wife,” the man said without any condemnation at her assumption, for which the medica was grateful.
“Oh, I beg your pardon.”
He looked back to the woman in the bed, her eyes closed and face pale. He leaned forward to stroke her hair, long and lush and bleached white the way the sun bleached everything on this planet. His hand caressed her cheek for a moment, and in the presence of such admiration, the medica blushed and left the room.
Yesterday
Marrin woke to the feeling of kisses on her bare stomach. She kept her eyes closed, but smiled as her husband trailed his lips along her skin to the slope of her hip. She waited, breath held, for him to continue, and he didn’t disappoint.
He never did.
“Good morning,” he whispered against her skin, teeth nipping in a way that made her sigh. “The sun is shining again.”
This made her laugh, as it always did, for on Lujawed, the sun almost always shone. “Good morning.”
She cracked open an eye to look down at him, settled between her thighs as though he had no place else to be for the rest of the day. He laid his cheek on her thigh and let his hand stroke along her side. Her hand came down to rest on his hair, the glorious length of it that time and the sun could burnish but not diminish.
“I love you, Keane.” The words slipped out without effort. She stroked his hair, like silk against her fingers.
“I love you, Marrin.” He turned his lips to kiss the skin beneath his cheek, then grinned. “I would love you better.”
She parted her thighs in reply, her eyes already going half-lidded in anticipation of the pleasure he would bring her. She heard his chuckle and felt the hot puff of his breath on her clit a bare micron before his lips kissed her there. She sighed, shifting. His hands curved around her hips to hold her to him while he began to make love to her with his mouth.
He kissed and licked her gently no matter how much she squirmed, taking his time. He always did. It was one of his charms, this constant ability to give his full attention to any task he performed, as though he had all the time in the world to complete it.
Because he does, she thought, lifting her hips as his mouth teased her flesh. To a Seveeran whose lifespan was limited only by accident or choice, anything worth doing was worth taking time for.
Her breath caught as his tongue fluttered against her folds. He nuzzled her, then parted her with his fingers to taste her. His low noise of arousal urged her own, and she answered with a gasp.
“Keane!”
He didn’t answer with words. He slid a finger inside her to stroke in time with his tongue. He’d found the pace she adored. Smooth, steady, alternating patterns of light tongue flicks and harder licks. He slid another finger inside her love-slick passage, filling her.
She wanted more, but he wouldn’t give it, her deviously sensual husband. No. Keane teased her, adding a twist to his hand that had her crying aloud and clutching the bedclothes as her hips rocked upward. He pressed his mouth to her clit, not moving lips or teeth or tongue. Letting her get off by rubbing herself against him. Letting her dictate the pace and pressure. Giving over to her control…until she was on the edge and ready to soar over. Then he pulled back, hand stilling, and blew repeated puffs of air against her pulsing clit and would not touch her with more than that no matter how she begged.
When she calmed, he withdrew his hand micron by terrible, exquisite micron, and slid up her body to kiss her mouth. His cock nudged her opening, and though she was so wet for him she felt the sheets damp beneath her, he did not enter her.
“I love you,” he murmured in her ear, sending shivers to perk her nipples into peaks as hard as lliwrock. “One hundred rotations I’ve loved you, Marrin, and I would have a thousand more.”
She opened her eyes and linked her hands behind his neck to pull him back to her mouth. “I’d give them to you if I could.”
He made no more talk but slipped inside her with the practiced ease of long experience. He paused when he’d filled her and she marveled anew at how well they fit together. Like pieces of a puzzle carved by Adonai’s own hand. He moved, his face pressed to the curve of her shoulder. Slow, long strokes, his stomach pressing her clit with every movement until she was back on the edge again.
She clutched him, fingers drawing trails down his back to cup his muscled buttocks. She pulled him closer. They melded, joined, moved as one. He withdrew and slid in again, the tip of his cock extending to nudge the entrance to her womb. Out again and his penis contracted. In, and it lengthened.
The dual sensation of his external and internal stroking never failed to send her to heights of pleasure she’d have said were impossible if she hadn’t lived with them for so long.
“I love the way you take all of me inside you.” Keane moved faster. His hand found hers. Their fingers linked. He lifted his head to look into her eyes, and the love shining in his gaze lifted her up and up, all the way to the sky.
Her orgasm fluttered at first, then rippled and at last exploded through her. She gasped and cried his name, pleasure making her mindless for a moment. Her body tensed and relaxed.
He gasped and shuddered, his back arching as he thrust into her one last time. She loved seeing him this way, perfect features creased with ecstasy. His body slowly ceased to jerk and shiver, and he lay down on top of her to nuzzle against her neck.
“Good morning,” she said after a moment. “It’s always a good morning when you wake me like that.”
He laughed, the sound as rich as cream dribbled over fresh-picked berries. He got up on one elbow to look at her. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to come with me today?”
“Not a chance, sport.” She settled herself on the pillows as he shifted his weight off her. Now that the lovemaking was over, her hip had flared into the same dull ache that always plagued her. They didn’t speak of it, but he knew and was careful of it.
“No?” He kissed her beneath her ear. “I’ve heard the silk merchants will be showing off their new fashions.”
She laughed and pushed at his shoulder to let her up. “Where do I ever go that I’d need something like that?”
“It’s not a question of need, but want.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him still sprawled in their bed and looking so handsome it made her throat close with emotion. “You go and have a good time.”
He stretched out. Still sinewy and firm, still looking as he had the day she’d met him in the starport. Nothing had changed about him. No wrinkles, no lines, no bulge or bumps of age.
And she… Marrin caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the dresser. When had she gotten so old?
She got out of bed, her throat still closed and her breath short. She went to the window and drew back the outer curtains, but left the inner set alone. They were sheer enough to let in the light b