Page 120 of Cosmic Castaway


Font Size:

“Flower,” he panted.

“I’m right here. I will always be right here.”

His hips stalled.

“Fuck me, Mindy. Take your pleasure.”

He grew louder and louder, and I smirked. I’d learned fairly quickly that he loved to be talked to during sex. He hadn’t added it to his permissions as one of the things he enjoyed, but I’d found it out anyway.

My own breath had turned jagged. “You are mine, Serlotminden.”

He screamed and spurts of white cum painted me, covering my stomach, though a few globs landed on my chin.

I wiped it off and licked the substance off my fingers. The sweet and tangy flavor made me moan while Mindy growled, tackling me. Thankfully, he had the good sense to put my legs on the bed before he lay on top of me to scent mark me.

Chapter 44

You won’t leave me, right?

My arms were wrapped around my mate as warm water sluiced over us. I kept myself tucked against his neck as I breathed him in. I would never get tired of how good he smelled, and how much I loved my scent clinging to him. I kissed him, and Bartholomew cupped the back of my head, fingers burying into the wet strands.

He’d insisted on showering and changing the sheets, even though we weren’t going to nap. I’d wanted to stay wrapped around him, covered in the scent of our sweat and seed, but he deemed it unhygienic and said we had to clean up, then take Pookie for a walk.

While I would never deny our daughter her due, I desired to spend more time with Bartholomew, alone, wrapped in each other’s embrace. Soon enough there would be demands on our time and energy, but right now we were able to focus on us.

“Mindy,” he said, “we’re not actually getting clean. We’re literally cuddling in the shower.”

I did not see the problem with that. I liked the feel of my mate’s soft skin against my scales as well as the warm water and humidity. Our quarters were being kept exceedingly cold, except for our bedroom, for Pookie. And I swore I felt the chill from it and the icy planet we’d left behind clinging to me. I needed all the warmth possible.

Bartholomew tried to back out of my embrace, making me groan and tighten my hold. I wanted to keep cuddling him. He cupped my cheeks, thumbs tracing my scales. I wished to fall into his brown eyes and get lost in them. I loved their depths and calmness that he exuded. So much of the time I felt as if I was racing back and forth, unable to slow down, but when I looked at him, I felt myself calm.

I didn’t know what soul type my Bartholomew possessed, as he hadn’t been tested and Dontilvynsan didn’t have a member of the ranks or a spiritual soul on his ship to do so, and yet, I wondered. He could be fierce and protective like a warrior when he needed to be. He was knowledgeable like a seeker, though he did seem to lack their curiosity. He had assembled that tent with creativity and he had an ability to find use for random objects like a creator. And he was so calm and wise, like a spiritual.

Who was my mate at his core? I was curious to find out, though I had a sneaking suspicion. My Flower saw the heart of the matter and liked to observe. I truly wondered if he might be the first non-drakcol to possess a spiritual soul. It seemed unlikely, but when I stared into his calm eyes, I felt myself slow. Only one other person had ever been able to do that to me.Monqilcolnen, my cousin and the strongest spiritual soul ever tested in recorded history.

“What are you thinking?” Bartholomew asked.

“What soul type you have.”

“Does it matter?”

“No, but I am curious.”

He kissed me, and I held him tight, wanting to stay like this forever. I needed to embrace him and hold him close. No one else would ever compare to him, not ever, and yet I worried. I worried he’d be stolen from me, but more than that I worried that he would leave.

Bartholomew had promised to stay, but I perfectly recalled the longing in his expression when I mentioned returning to Earth. Bartholomew had agreed to be with me before he’d known that Earth was a possibility. I didn’t want him to leave, though. I needed him, but more than that, I wanted him.

Need was important, but I chose Bartholomew. Out of every person I’d ever met, only one had made me think of forever, and I chose him. I wanted him. I liked him. I loved him.

My mate pulled back, frowning. “You are thinking very hard in there.”

“What?”

“You didn’t kiss me back. So either I have gotten very bad at this, or you are distracted. Which is it?”

I clutched him. We were wasting water, which Dontilvynsan would lecture me about when he saw my room’s usage, and I was not paying attention to my mate, which was far worse. “I was distracted.”

“About?”