14. Chapter Fourteen #2
I had to keep reminding myself that Ursa hadn’t grown up with the same notions about physical intimacy that I had.
As a matter of fact, he’d grown up with none.
He had no shame about being naked, no shame about any of his bodily functions; of course he’d have no idea about the rules of polite society.
And, granted, the Achaeans weren’t exactly what I’d call polite, but even they didn’t go about groping one another in public spaces.
I softened toward him, though I didn’t dare to venture any closer, keeping the pillow as a safeguard between us. “Yes. But there’s a time and a place for that. Specifically, when we’re alone and other people aren’t around.”
Ursa cocked his head at me, a question. “Why?”
A flush worked its way up the back of my neck, to my cheeks. “Because then people will know that we’re”—I gestured between us, searching for the least incendiary word—“intimate.”
He didn’t seem to understand, so I added in a whisper, “Sheathing.”
Rather than look chastened, Ursa’s eyes sparked at the familiar word. The arrogant grin returned to his face. “Mina is Ursa’s.”
Ah, yes, and he was just fine with everyone knowing that, apparently.
Still, for some inconceivable reason, the words sent shivers through my body, even into the places I’d rather not mention at present.
I tightened my hug on the pillow in my arms. “So you don’t care that everyone has been whispering about us, talking about what we do when we’re”—I blushed—“alone together?”
Ursa shrugged.
Ugh, that insouciant shrug. I threw the pillow at him, then turned my back to him. “Oh, you’re impossible!”
Ursa came up behind me, so close the heat of him pressed up against my back. His nose brushed against my hairline, playfully at first, then more insistently until at last I turned to face him.
I leveled my sternest look on him to show I wouldn’t be putting up with any nonsense, thank you very much.
Ursa nudged my nose with his. It was difficult to remain cross with him under the best of circumstances, but especially when he was giving me those dusky-blue puppy-dog eyes.
Still, I had to remain stern. I didn’t want him to think he could get away with those kinds of shenanigans again. “Well?” I prompted.
He furrowed his brow, as if searching for the right words. He looked so sweet that way, like a little boy studying for a maths test, but still I didn’t soften. At least, not outwardly. “Men need know Mina is Ursa’s,” he informed me slowly. “Other men . . . own.”
“Own?” I hadn’t the faintest idea what he was talking about.
Ursa huffed. He didn’t like it when language failed him and he couldn’t find the right words to express himself. He made a grabbing, seizing motion at me. “Take.”
I finally realized what he was going on about. “You think someone else is going to claim me if it isn’t clear that I’m yours?” I had to laugh, it was so absurd. He really was a caveman sometimes. Like if he left me unattended, someone was going to snatch me up and call dibs.
Ursa didn’t seem to find any humor in the situation. His jaw tightened, eyes flashing dangerously, like the sky before a storm. “Men watch Mina.”
As boorish and backward as the whole thing was, it was kind of sweet that he still seemed to think I was some rare and precious jewel everyone was fighting to obtain.
That was patently ridiculous, of course, since most of the men on the ship seemed perfectly content to ignore me completely.
But I suppose love must have blinded Ursa to my innate ordinariness.
Naturally, he hadn’t been to Haven 3 yet.
I doubted very much he would still think I was such a hot commodity then . . .
Pushing aside that niggling thought, I met his gaze. “You’re being ridiculous. No one is going to take me.” Softening despite myself, I reached out and looped my arms around his neck. “Mina is Ursa’s.” Pronouns. I really ought to be a better role model. “I am yours.”
How could I stay angry at him when just that day he’d scaled a tower to rescue me; when I was still so relieved that he was getting back to his old self; when he thought I was the most wonderful creature in the universe, so desirable that no other man could possibly resist? I wasn’t made of stone.
And I loved him. I should hope by now that much would go without saying—although, I do think I ought to have said it to you more often, my love.
It all seems so simple now, but then, it was so new to me. Being in love for the first time in my life. Being vulnerable in a way I never had been before. I wanted nothing more than to be with Ursa always, and I knew I ought not to care about what any of the Achaeans thought about us.
But I also worried. I worried all the time.
Ursa was so new, so precious to me. I didn’t understand how someone so utterly brilliant could really love me.
He had experienced so little of the universe.
What if he only wanted me because I was .
. . convenient? Not because I was me, Minerva Eloise Smithe-Canfield, but because he’d been lonely and I was a warm body?
Every time I caught the crew staring or whispering about us, I worried that they were thinking the same thing, and wondering if it was only a matter of time before he grew tired of me.
The way he looked at me, though, it was hard to remember why I’d ever worried, ever doubted. He looked at me like I was his personal transit of Venus,8 like he thought I was sensational. What a nice feeling that is, to be so utterly splendid to somebody.
His face softened as he gazed at me, though that little dash of swagger still gleamed in his eyes. He was so very confident in his love for me, and in mine for him. “Mina is Ursa’s,” he agreed. “Ursa is Mina’s. I am yours.”
His words, the look in his eyes, his nearness, all combined to send an unexpected rush of heat to my core. I clenched my legs together, wetting my lips with my tongue as I looked up at him. “Ursa . . .” I meant to say much more, but now I was the one at a loss for words.
Luckily, he didn’t need any more encouragement.
Gaze smoldering, Ursa took hold of the zipper of my jumpsuit and pulled it down.
I eagerly helped him, wriggling around to free myself.
The suit dropped to the floor, and I stood before him in just my underthings.
Ursa slipped his fingers underneath the fabric of my bra, rolling my breast in his palm in a way that felt territorial.
It ought to have been quite degrading, but instead my body responded to that possessiveness in a way I would not have expected, pressure and warmth mounting low in my belly.
Swallowing, I took hold of his hand and pushed it away firmly. Ursa furrowed his brow in almost comical confusion—This again? his face seemed to say—but I quickly made my purpose clear. “Out of your jumpsuit,” I instructed him.
1. Like on Mesozoia. I haven’t been there myself, as there is a rather high percentage of human casualties, but it’s meant to be quite a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
2. As Croydon was well over six feet and had a big, imposing frame, this was an especially hilarious scenario to try to imagine.
3. Then again, my last romantic partner had been trying to murder me, so it was hard to make a fair comparison.
4. I wish I could do the story justice here, but one really did have to be there.
5. An odd saying that I must assume came from the Earth-that-was, since most people on the Havens are bred to have the far superior 20/10 vision.
6. No judgment, of course, to those who do, but, well, I’m a mycologist.
7. On second thought, it might not be the best idea to remind the Brethren about the air lock. We’re on good terms now, but one never knows which way the tide might go with pirates.
8. The extremely rare occurrence of Venus passing between Earth and the sun, so Venus’s silhouette is visible on the sun. So, in short, marvelous.