Cosmic Castaway (Cosmic Romances #3)

24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Permissions.

I hadn’t been able to sleep. I was too excited for our outing to the river. Bartholomew let me hold him all night as he slept, and I relished the feel of him in my arms. He was near my height, and much slimmer than me, for now, but I adored the way he fit so perfectly against me. A couple of times he whimpered or cried out in his sleep, and I’d soothed the tension away while whispering that I was there. I didn’t know what nightmares plagued him, but after a moment or two, he’d fallen back to sleep.

When I started to shift away, Bartholomew released a long breath and gripped me tighter. While I didn’t wish to move, I needed to prepare for our date. I snuck out of his embrace, or tried to. He held my shirt, forehead crinkling. I kissed the wrinkles. He was so cute—or as my mate-brothers would say, so fucking cute. I almost laughed, but I stifled it, as to not wake Bartholomew. Gently, I tugged his hands away and slipped out from beneath him.

The instant I escaped the tent, I closed it, trying to trap enough heat for Bartholomew to stay warm and to keep the light off him. I grabbed a comb and brushed my hair. I wished it was possible to shave the side of my head or pick more attractive clothes, but I didn’t have access to any of that.

Normally, when I prepared for an outing, I dressed nicely, coordinating my jewelry, and made sure I was perfect. That wasn’t an option right now, and this was different than anything I’d ever done before. I was courting someone—and not anyone—I was courting my mate. I wanted to look beautiful for him. Well, more beautiful. I was always lovely.

When I cleaned and prepared myself as much as possible, I returned to the tent and waited for him to awaken, watching his lids flutter with his dreams. Drool dripped out of the corner of his mouth and raucous snores escaped him, cheek pillowed on his palm. He gave a loud snort, and my soul clenched.

He was so cute. How had I survived before him? Was this what my brothers felt? If it was, I understood their complete and utter fascination with their mates. Though Seth, Caleb, and Gilvaxtin would never be as cute as Bartholomew. No one could be. It was impossible.

I shifted as close as possible to my mate, knees brushing his side. Bartholomew rolled toward me, reaching. Unable to resist, I tucked myself beside him. He grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me flush against him. I rested my lips on the top of his head, but I didn’t use any pressure. We still hadn’t discussed further permissions and if he was alright with me kissing or biting him or having sex or anything more. My tail curled around his ankle, and I petted his back, my fingers slipping into the wing slits to brush his skin.

He awoke with a grunt, then a groan as he wiped his spit-drenched hand on my fresh shirt, but I didn’t mind. His eyes lifted to mine and he jerked. “What the fuck?”

I would love to fuck him, but that wasn’t going to happen right now. I grinned. “Good morning, my Bartholomew.” I wanted to call him my mate, but that might scare him.

“Yeah,” he said shortly, rolling over.

Sudden pain pricked me at the rejection. I shook it off. Bartholomew needed to get to know me better. He would accept me in the end. I was his mate. That’s all there was to it. I didn’t need the Crystal to tell me where my soul resided. He had it, and I planned to have his in return.

I snuggled behind him and inhaled deeply. Stars above, he smelled amazing. Like sunlight kissing grass or something more poetic. I wanted to bathe in his fragrance and rub it all over me, so everyone knew I belonged to him. I wanted our scents to mingle, and they did to some extent because we slept in such close proximity, but not enough. Never enough. Every drakcol needed to be able to scent me on him and him on me.

Bartholomew reached back, and I froze. Was he going to push me away? Why would he? But this was so new and fragile. Please, don’t , I silently begged. Please don’t reject me . His fingers enclosed my wrist and drew me closer. I groaned, dragging my nose against the nape of his neck.

“Bartholomew,” I breathed. How had I lived without him? I didn’t understand it. My life before made no sense. I should’ve been searching for him or known he was waiting, but I’d never even suspected a human was for me, but now that I had, I refused to let him go.

He interlaced our fingers. Bartholomew’s palm was cool against mine, with rough calluses that scraped against my scales, making me shiver.

“We should eat before our date,” he said.

“Yes.” I was not going to disagree with him. Whatever he desired he could have as long as he remained against me.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter what time we go, as long as it’s not dark. It’ll be cold outside either way, though.”

“Probably.” He was perfect in my arms. I breathed in his scent like I could imprint it onto my lungs.

“The water will most likely be warm whenever.”

“Yes.” How was he this perfect? It seemed impossible. No one was this perfect, but somehow Bartholomew was.

“We’re not swimming naked, but we might want to bring a towel or something to dry off with, and more briefs.”

“Sure.” Could I kiss his neck? Would he mind? I wanted to bite him. I wanted to nibble on his soft skin. Kalvoxrencol had told me human skin marked when kissed and sucked on. Well, Seth’s did. Did Bartholomew? I wanted to see it.

“I mean we can swim naked.”

“If you like.” I would bet my entire inheritance, all my properties, and even my racing shuttle that he tasted good. I salivated at the thought. Did his release taste good? Kalvoxrencol didn’t mind Seth’s or so he’d said. I swallowed a groan. I wanted to suck my Teddy.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked.”

“True.” I would make him feel good if he allowed me. I had plenty of experience. I would make sure to obliterate any memory of previous lovers. No one would compare to me.

“Mindy,” Bartholomew said, startling me. “You’re not paying attention.”

“I am,” I lied. How was I supposed to focus when he was this distracting?

“I offered to swim naked, and you didn’t say anything.”

My stomach swooped. Naked?

“Either you don’t like me as much as you say or you aren’t paying attention.”

My mind latched onto one word—naked. “I want to swim naked,” I said, forcing him onto his back. I hovered over him, panting. “Let’s do that. That sounds fun.”

He laughed, and I’d never heard a better sound in my life. Slowly, he was softening, and that meant he might possibly care for me. I didn’t need much. I could work with basically nothing. I was charming, attractive, a racer, and a prince. I was awesome enough that with a little time I could win him. I had to. There was no other choice.

Until then, I planned to treasure each and every laugh. Though even if we were together for a hundred cycles, I doubted that would ever change; he was too precious.

Bartholomew palmed my cheeks. “Now you’re listening.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, fighting the urge to press my lips against him. “I should have been listening. Every word you say is important.”

Bartholomew flushed as he dropped his hands. “Not really.”

“It is, and I am sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

I could feel him pulling away from me emotionally. I did not understand it. Sometimes he would open up, and then jerk away, disappearing. I wished we had discussed permissions. If I was allowed to, I would press gentle kisses along his eyes, cheekbones, chin, and anywhere else I could reach until every trace of tension left his expression. I felt that such touches would help build intimacy between us, which might stop him from hiding from me.

But I couldn’t do that. Yet. I would prove my worth as a mate to him, and Bartholomew would choose me, then I would have the right to care for him however he needed and chose.

“Let’s eat,” I said, trying to get my mate to speak again. “I must feed you.”

The slightest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and like that I felt him return. Bartholomew was hard to understand at times, but I would. I would know all about him.

I cupped his cheek, thumb brushing his skin. A smile grew at the feel of his hair on his cheeks. I’d never seen Seth with hair on his face, but I loved Bartholomew’s. I lowered, rubbing my cheek against his and groaned loudly.

Bartholomew stiffened beneath me. I almost moved back, but his hands clamped onto my lower back, keeping me in place. Nuzzling his neck and cheek, I breathed in his fragrance and moaned. My mate jerked beneath me, his breath harshening.

“Bartholomew,” I whined.

“What?” he asked, breath jagged.

“Can I kiss you?” I craved his soft tongue curling around mine in tentative movements. The most precious pink bloomed on my mate’s cheeks. I dragged my nose over the color. He was beyond lovely. “Little Flower,” I cooed.

He cupped my cheeks, pulling me away, and my gut fell. But he didn’t push me aside. Instead, he drew me to his lips and lightly kissed me. A groan from deep within me ripped out of my mouth at the small touch. I’d never felt anything like it, ever.

I pressed closer, shoving my hips into his as I kissed him, licking and nibbling. Bartholomew gasped, and I dove into his warm mouth, swiping at his tongue. His legs hooked over mine, and he returned each of my touches with his own. His silky tongue slid over mine as he grunted.

Withdrawing, I tried to lure Bartholomew into my mouth, and he chased me, investigating. His touch was hesitant, but I moaned at the feel of him, grinding my hips into his.

Bartholomew jolted and something hardened beneath me, making me grin against my mate’s mouth. I wanted to keep rutting into him until he found release, but I stopped. One, we hadn’t discussed it, and two, he was so upset the last time he finished early.

Pulling my mouth away from his, making Bartholomew complain, I began to kiss his face, tracing his soft skin. He panted beneath me, cock hard and hips canting.

“Mindy.”

I licked his scabbed chin. It was healing; all of them were. Well, the ones that weren’t hidden by his clothes. Bartholomew had refused my desire to bathe the injures again, so I hadn’t confirmed the healing with my own eyes. I cleaned his chin before moving to his neck, licking and sucking on the delicate skin. One of his hands buried in my hair as his hips rutted into mine. I moaned from the friction on my cock, but it wasn’t enough to distract me from my assault on his neck. I had to leave my mark on him. No one might be here with us, but everyone needed to know this human was mine.

My Flower cried out, fisting my hair to the point of pain while the other clutched at my hip. He ground against me, moaning. I sucked and licked, biting, at his neck, but I did not grind into him. We hadn’t discussed it, but I was perfectly fine with my mate taking his pleasure.

“Yes, Flower,” I said against his neck. My hands went to his hips to help him rub against me. “That’s it. Take what you need.”

“Mindy. Fuck.” A low whine came out of his lips as wet warmth bloomed, and I smirked. My mate was very sensitive, and he clearly enjoyed my touch.

He panted, limp beneath me.

I pulled back, admiring the deep purple mark on his neck as well as the blissed expression on his face. Bartholomew’s eyes were heavy and his muscles relaxed. I kissed him again, and he returned it, movements lazy and sated.

“That was beautiful.” I adored the fact that I brought my mate such satisfaction so easily.

The color returned to his cheeks, and he looked away from me.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Bartholomew took a deep breath. “No. I’m… I’m embarrassed.”

“Why?” I cocked my head. He stayed silent for a few moments, and I didn’t rush him.

Teddy eventually said, “I came so fast.”

“And?”

“You didn’t even touch me.”

“And?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Why? It’s hot, remember?” That was the right word, wasn’t it?

He smiled, and my soul soared. “You liked it.”

“I do.” I kissed him again. “Can we discuss permissions again now that we are courting?”

“Yes.”

I beamed, and Bartholomew traced my lips. I nipped at his fingers, and he grunted but didn’t pull away. Kissing the digits, I asked, “Can I kiss you?”

“You are.”

“But when can I kiss you and where? Can I bite you? Can I touch your butt? Do you want to fuck? And if you do, what do you like or not like? What touch do you like?” I asked, tail wiggling. “I want to know. No, I need to know.”

His eyes didn’t meet mine, staring at the tent. I waited, tail thrashing. His release was soaking the front of his trousers and mine, and I was still hard. I wanted to have our permissions established so perhaps I could also come, preferably in his mouth, but I wished for a release with my mate, regardless of how.

“You can kiss me,” he told me. “You can bite me. I like it, shockingly. You can touch my butt, but don’t kiss or bite it yet. I… I need more time.” Bartholomew’s cheeks darkened. “The same with sex. I know I’ve… we’ve—” He paused to take a breath. “I’m not ready.”

I kissed his cheek. “That’s fine.”

“You?”

“I want you to kiss and touch me, Flower. I love my hair played with and I love my tail and wings played with. I’m not fond of pain, but I doubt your teeth can do much damage to me, so feel free to bite. I want to get to know you and hear your voice, so please don’t pull away from me.” I nuzzled his cheek. “I want you. Not your body, though I do love it, but you. I want to know you. Please don’t hide or lie to me. Especially tell me if you need something. I need to care for you.”

He nodded against me.

I pursed my lips as I tried to think of things I didn’t want. It was hard when Bartholomew was so distracting and my body craved him on a cellular level, but I had to be honest with my mate. “I’m not fond of my feet being played with or kissed. I like…” What was the human word? Caleb, Seth, and Edith had truly neglected sex terminology lessons. “Before sex fun.”

“Foreplay?”

“Perhaps. I also like being brought to close to pleasure, then denied, then teased again and again without my satisfaction.”

“You like being edged,” Bartholomew said.

Fucking permissions weren’t needed right now, and there was more, but we could wait. “We can discuss sex permissions later.”

“So what else do you not like?”

“Being left alone.”

His forehead crinkled. “What?”

“I’m often alone with my races or my diplomatic missions, and I don’t like it. I get lonely. I don’t like being ignored or forgotten. Not that you have to be with me all the time, but—” I broke off, trying to think of the words I needed. “Being left behind hurts. I often feel as if my brothers are leaving me behind or I am leaving them. I don’t like it. I love racing and my work, but I don’t like being forgotten.”

“Do they forget you?”

“Not intentionally. But they’re busy.”

He drew my lips to his, gently kissing me. “I will never forget you, Mindy. I won’t leave you behind.”

“Thank you.” I nuzzled him, breathing in our mixed scent as well as his spend. It was a heady fragrance. I licked the mark I’d left. “We should clean you, then eat, and go on our date.”

The color returned to his cheeks, and I laughed. While I didn’t understand his embarrassment, it was adorable.