“A fast shower, first, seriously.”
“Too bad it’s not bigger,” he mutters.
Shower sex? Yes, please. But the facilities here weren’t designed for pleasure. It’s a military installation, and we had to shave credits until they bled in building it. That was part of Loras’s recruitment plan, in fact. He quietly approached La’hengrin in the capital who had skills he needed and offered the cure.
“Agreed. Just…get naked and wait for me.”
I pull off my gear and drop it on the chair in the corner. Naked, I walk into the lavatory and take the quickest shower of my life. If March weren’t waiting for me—and if I weren’t cognizant that we have less than an hour to meet Sasha—I’d spend longer in here. It feels like forever since I had a hot bath.
Skin still steamy from the hot mist, I step out, and March pounces me. Sweeping me into his arms, he lowers me onto the bunk. It’s narrow, but when he pulls me on top of him, it’s big enough for two. I lean down, dusting kisses over the curve of his lower lip, his firm chin and strong jaw, then the bump of his broken nose. His lashes flutter against his cheeks as his breath catches.
“I get the feeling you missed me,” he whispers.
“It sucks without you.”
“Here, too.” He wraps his arms around me, nuzzling my damp skin.
Pleasure spills through me, bright as sunrise and equally irresistible. I feel like I can’t get close enough to him. I’m a miser hoarding sensations and memories because I don’t know how long Loras intends us to stay—or how long it’ll be between our mission in the capital and the next time I see March.
“I hate long-distance relationships,” I murmur into his ear.
“I’m right here.”
For now. I don’t say it, but he hears because he’s always in my head, if he’s close enough to be. And he sees all my doubts and private griefs, all my hopes and unlikely expectations. There are no secrets between March and me.
“Don’t, Jax.”
“I’ll do this instead, shall I? Or this…” By the time I finish teasing him, his whole body is taut, and his breath comes in ragged gasps.
He frames my hips in his hands and draws me over him. I don’t need more foreplay because his pleasure, steamy hot in my head, gives me more than enough. His thoughts become random, chaotic; memories of other times chase through my mind. March’s fantasies are all of me in various poses, but I catch a glimpse of a scene he keeps hidden away like a shameful secret.
So I make it come true this time; I don’t stay where he puts me. I slide down. He catches my shoulders. “What are you—”
“I’m in charge. Lay back.”
His eyes widen, but he does. Faint color touches his strong cheekbones as I fulfill the desire he couldn’t articulate. He knots his fingers in the sheet, knees coming up to give me better access. With lips and fingers, I give him what he needs. There’s no shame between us. Nothing he wants is wrong.
“Jax,” he groans.
Love you. I love you. The words become a drumbeat in my head, and he loses control completely. To my surprise, I come when he does, and the orgasm sweeps through me like a leveling wave. As I quiver against his thigh, I realize it’s probably an adjunct of his strong Psi. He hauls me up into his arms, between the cradle of his thighs, and I settle in with my head on his chest.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
I give a lazy grin. “You wanted it.”
“Like you give me everything I want.”
“I try,” I say seriously. “Sometimes it’s just not possible because it conflicts with what I need. But I’m never looking to deny you anything.”
March checks the time. “We have twenty-two minutes.”
“You think you can go again, old man?” I arch a brow, mocking him.
“Is that supposed to be funny?”
Belatedly, I realize I shouldn’t tease him. He lost five turns while I was in the other world, and I’m not aging like I did.
“A little?” I try.
“Let’s see who’s old.” He rolls me under him, and that’s the last coherent thought I have for a while.
Eventually, I end up on top.
“Yes,” he growls, as I sink down.
I want this to last, but because it’s been so long, it can’t. Like a summer’s day, it burns bright and hot, showering me in ephemeral heat. I move on him faster and forget to consider his pleasure. But March enjoys it when I take charge, when I use him to take what I need, because it gives him the freedom to be passive. I peak first, squeezing my eyes shut when the tremors hit. He arches up with a cry, thighs tense.
Afterward, he trembles beneath me, all lazy satiation. My muscles lax, I collapse in his arms and relish the stroke of his rough fingers on my spine.
“I’d like to kiss you all over,” I say, dragging my nails down his chest. “But we don’t have time.”
“That seems to be a theme with us.”
“Someday,” I promise.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
I take a quick, two-minute shower to wash the sex smell off, then March follows suit. As I open the wardrobe, I notice he’s left all my clothes here, like we’re living together…something we’ve never really done. For the first time, I let myself imagine it. Not on the ground, of course, but on a ship—a master suite with a big bed and plenty of storage, something sleek and fast that lets us see the universe together.