Smiling slightly, she lowered her lips back down, rubbing them against his. They were cool but firm. It felt…nice.
When she pressed on, continuing to kiss him, one of his hands lifted to her face, drawing her hair back. She traced her tongue at the seam of his lips, sliding inside when his mouth opened, and he tentatively returned her kiss.
Okay, this isn’t bad. Not bad at all.
He didn’t taste of honey and spice, as Bannor had, but it was still a pleasant kiss.
Her hand boldly traveled down his chest, then under the sheet. His body went tense, but he didn’t fight her or pull away. When she found the drawstring of his pants, she untied it before slowly slipping her hand inside.
He groaned against her lips when her hand found his erection. Like Devan’s, it was silky and smooth, but she couldn’t fight the soft clench of disappointment in her stomach when she noted his size. Not nearly comparable to Devan.
But that’s not a reason not to marry someone.
He couldn’t help what he’d been born with.
“This is nice,” she whispered against his lips while her hand started to move up and down on his modest length.
“Umm…yes,” he groaned, his voice pained. When she lifted her eyes to examine his face, his eyes were screwed shut, but passion was evident in the tautness of his features and his body. He wanted her.
That’s all I need.
Relief wound through her. Moving her lips back to Adamon’s, she shifted so one of her legs wound over the lower part of his body and her breasts pressed into his chest. But the moment he felt them, something changed within him. He tensed, and with a muttered curse, shoved her off him.
Shocked, she stared down at his figure. “What’s wrong?”
Disgust melded with something that looked a lot like guilt covered his features. “What are you doing?”
“I…we are engaged,” she whispered heatedly. “There’s no shame in what we’re doing.”
“No, it’s not right.” Adamon scowled and shook his head, scooting back so he sat against the headboard. He clutched his sheet to him, looking for all the world like a blushing virgin.
Shouldn’t that be something I’d be doing?
Taking a deep breath, she tried again. “Adamon, we are going to be married. Why not indulge a littl—”
“I’ve already explained why,” he growled. When she automatically flinched at the heat in his words, he evened his tone, his expression growing softer. “Cindra, you know I love you, but it’s important to me that we honor ourselves and remain pure for our wedding day.”
Was he serious?
“And when will that be?” she pressed.
“I…” Looking like a startled owl, he shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe when the crop season is over?”
“That’s months away,” she whispered, trying to keep her voice down.
He shrugged again, averting his gaze. “We cannot shirk our duties on the farm. You know that, Cindra.”
“Yes,” she murmured dully. She did know that, because this wasn’t the first time she’d heard it.
If Adamon loved her, why did he seem so uneager to marry her? It simply didn’t make sense. She’d allowed it to pass before, because she hadn’t wanted to doubt him. Because this was her home. But with their arrival, the Spygians had awakened a slew of questions within her.
She was beginning to see that maybe her life wasn’t as certain as she’d thought it to be.
Rising from the bed, she forced herself to murmur, “I’d better get back to my room.”
“Yes,” he said, relief evident in his voice. “That’s a good idea.”
She started to turn, but he said, “Cindra.”
Meeting his gaze, she said, “Yes?”
A weak smile lit his face. “I love you.”
Gods, she didn’t even know if she believed those words anymore.
“Me too,” she choked out. Turning, she fled the room, moving as swiftly as she could while still maintaining her silence. But once she’d made it back into her bedroom, sleep was the last thing on her mind.
What was going on with Adamon? What was she going to do about it?
She paced her bedroom, going back and forth several times before finally pausing in front of the open window. The beladora tree partially obscured the moonlight, but a cool, refreshing breeze blew in.
Making a sudden decision, she whirled back to face the room. She’d go for a walk, clear her head. Perhaps it would help her to see things better. But first, she’d put on her dress. Even she wouldn’t be caught dead walking through the town in the middle of the night wearing nothing more than her nightgown. She might be torn and confused, but she wasn’t insane.
* * * * *
From his perch on the wooden fence separating the animals from the farmhouse their mate slept in, Tempos caught the movement inside. He stood to attention.
“Look,” he whispered to Stefon.
When Stefon met his gaze, he pointed toward the open window. Their mate stood within, several feet from the window but still close enough they could see her moving about.
To his utter shock, she suddenly drew her nightgown over her head. From this angle, they could make out no more than the upper curve of her bare back, but even that was enough to light a vicious fire within Tempos.
She was truly and utterly stunning, her tawny skin glimmering in the light of the Keulot moon.
“What’s she doing?” Stefon whispered.
Tempos watched as she dragged another garment over her shoulders, this one a light blue, then moved her fingers to the front of the garment.
“It appears she’s dressing,” he said.
“But why?” was Stefon’s response. “Could she be planning on leaving the house now, at this time of night?”
“I don’t know.” But he certainly wasn’t going to let her out of his sight.
“Maybe, if we’re lucky,” Tempos said to Stefon, “the gods will smile on us and draw our mate in our direction.”
He could only pray.
Chapter Five
Cindra stepped down the stairs, making sure to tread carefully on the wooden floorboards. At least her boots were soft and quiet. That was good, because she had so many things to worry about without adding the fear of waking the others to the list.
Was her relationship with Adamon destined to forever be this way? Her trying to sway him to indulge in eroticism with her, while he played the reluctant partner? If so, she didn’t know if she could survive it. She wanted passion. She wanted someone who wanted her. She didn’t know if life with Adamon would be enough anymore.
“Damn those Spygians,” she hissed to herself as she unlocked the front door and tugged it open just enough that she could slip outside. Without any location in mind, she started toward the corner of the farmhouse.
If it weren’t for them, she wouldn’t be questioning her relationship with Adamon right now. She’d been perfectly content with her lot of in life. But then they’d shown up and made her heart beat faster and her body quake in a way she hadn’t known was possible. And then, once Bannor had touched her…
How could she even consider other men after having met the luscious Spygians? There was no comparison. They were far too fine, too delicious, for any woman to resist. Just thinking about them made her stomach flutter and her loins grow moist.
Her thoughts heavy, Cindra rounded the corner of the farmhouse. She had but a moment to process the two figures standing next to the house, before she ran face-first into one of them.
A squeal automatically burst from her, but the man she’d run into clapped his hand over her mouth to muffle the sound.
“Shush,” he whispered. “You wouldn’t want to wake the others.”
Her heart in her throat, she stared up at the man. His features were ones she’d memorized over the past few days. Long, dark hair, full lips, a classically handsome face with long, thin nose. His bronze eyes glittered down at her in amusement.
Frowning, Cindra lurched back out of the Spygian’s grasp. She threw him and his companion, the man with the glowing green eyes, an evil glare.
“What are you two doing here?” she whispered furiously.
The bronze-eyed Spygian exchanged a glance with the green-eyed one, before shrugging and turning back to her with a semi-guilty smirk.
“Let me guess. Because I’m your mate.”
“Well…yes,” answered the bronze-eyed Spygian.
Heaving a labored sigh, she stalked past the two men and headed for the barn several hundred feet from the house. She didn’t need to glance behind her to know the Spygians followed her. Their eyes were like laser beams on the back of her neck.
“I wish you would all stop saying that,” she finally muttered.
The Spygians fell into place beside her, one on each side.
“But it’s true,” said the bronze-eyed Spygian, raking her with his intense gaze.
She did her best to stifle the squirm of discomfort his regard sparked within her, instead irritably asking, “What are your names again?”
The bronze-eyed Spygian grinned at her. “I am Stefon.”
“And I’m Tempos,” said the green-eyed one.
“Well, Stefon and Tempos, you should both be sleeping. It’s the middle of the night.”
Tempos let out a hoarse chuckle. “I could say the same to you, beloved.”