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By the time they stumbled into their portable, her lips were already on his neck, and Ryland gasped as he kicked the door closed.
“Eva,” he moaned, her teeth grazing the tendons in his neck, and he kneaded her hips in response. “I would have proposed weeks ago if I’d known you’d do this.”
She hummed, pleased, and tickled her tongue along his skin, feeling gooseflesh pebble in her wake. “Why didn’t you?”
“Didn’t—” he swallowed hard, “didn’t want to distract you. You carried the world, baby, I didn’t want to add to it — in, in case.”
She looked up at him, her heart tripping in her chest. “Sweet man,” she murmured, and pulled away just far enough to cup his cheeks, then placed a purposeful kiss on his mouth. “Always thinking of me, first.”
She smirked, then let her mouth wander across his cheek, his jaw, until she could nuzzle her nose behind his ear. “Will you let me think of you first, tonight?”
He made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. “We’ll see who gets to that first.”
“A race?” She scraped her teeth along his skin, left a red mark in her wake, her mark, above his collar where everyone could see. “Do you really want to challenge me like that?”
His laugh was a rumble in his throat, a vibration against her lips. Then, to her surprise, her delight, he was spinning her, pressing her up against the door, his body hot against hers. “I think I do,” he whispered, his grin evident in his voice, and he was kissing along her jaw, sucking a mark onto the hinge of it. “A little friendly competition to start our engagement?”
She was laughing, giddy, and threw her head back to give him more space. “What better way?”
Sliding her hands under his shirt, she drew her nails firmly up his back, feeling him shiver, and then she was tugging it up and over his head. He murmured something about eagerness, which she nipped him for, but then she was laughing again as he gripped her ass, boosted her up into his arms, her legs wrapping around his hips.
His mouth found hers again, plundering, taking, needing. She slid her hands into his air, pressing her tongue against his as she pulled, and the sweet little whine he let out made her gasp, smile, bite his bottom lip.
Not to be outdone, he pressed her hard against the wall, angling his hips to hold her there while he reached for her pullover, tugging it off quick. He hadn’t even dropped it to the floor before his mouth was on her chest, tongue and teeth working down the swell of her breast, mouthing greedily at the edge of her bra in a way that made her squirm.
“I would have worn something fancier had I known what tonight would be,” she husked, her breath coming faster, and she was squirming to reach for the clasp of her bra.
He groaned lightly, his hips twitching against hers, and oh she felt the press of his cock against her, hard and aching and she wanted nothing more than to hold him down and take him.
“That almost would have been worth ruining the surprise,” he murmured around his mouth full of flesh, working his way down. The stubble of his jaw scraped her nipple, making her gasp and buck her hips, and he was just about to soothe the scrape with his tongue when he popped his head up. “Do you even have something like that here?”
She nearly started to pull him back down to her breast, opening her mouth to him yes, of course, shut up, when she paused, thinking. Then closed her mouth again.
“Well. No.” Anything fancier would have been part of her gala clothing, all of which she gleefully sent back into storage once they had moved to Baikonur. She smirked at him then, and cupped his jaw, pressing just hard enough she knew he would feel the band of her new ring against his skin. “Perhaps on our wedding night, then.”
He grinned at her, wild, gleeful. “And I thought I was excited to get married before.”
Eva laughed until he stifled the sound with another kiss, one she met with equal fervor. The weight of the final push of the project had left what sex they could manage a hurried, desperate affair, meant more as an attempt to prove their humanity than for the joy, the pleasure of joining. But now, all in a dizzying rush, she felt it was back — all the stress, all the terror, all the sorrow they had lived with for years, lifted from their shoulders for an intimate, blessed moment, and what was left between them was simply happiness. Love and mirth, a delight in seeking and giving pleasure, a playfulness she hadn’t realized how much she had missed, until now that it had returned.
What a gift it was, she thought to herself, for the night of their engagement. She vowed to savor it — and to never let them lose it entirely ever again.
She squirmed in his grip until he let her down, and then it was her turn to spin them, tugging him further into the room. She kissed down his neck as she did, finding the hollow of his neck with tongue first, then teeth, feeling it bob underneath her lips, the taste of salt and skin heady, intoxicating.
His hands wandered, first to her breasts, cupping and squeezing, rolling a nipple dexterously between thumb and forefinger until she moaned, nipping his neck to mark in return. He laughed lightly at that, throat bobbing again, and then his hands were drifting down the clasp of her trousers.
They pulled at each other’s trousers then, working to open buttons and zippers, fighting off shoes and fabric through abortive swears, little laughs and giggles that built and built until they were gasping. With a final kick, Ryland removed his last sock, and the piles of their clothing were pushed out of the way.
Placing her hands on his chest, she lightly pushed him away, smiling when he stumbled back a step, surprised, and looked at her curiously. She smirked at him, and reaching out, lightly drew a finger down the middle of his chest, feeling the hard line of muscle.
“I want to look at you,” she husked, and slowly stepped behind him, letting her finger trail across his chest, up to the line of his collarbone, and then down across the expanse of shoulders to the divot of his spine. She leaned close to him then, whispering in his ear, “Now that you’re mine.”
He let out a strangled laugh, turning his head to try and get a look at her. “Baby, believe me, I was yours long before tonight.”
She gave a pleased hum, bringing up both of her hands to run them over his shoulders, down his arms, tracing over the lines of triceps, then over the defined veins of his forearms, the tendons near his elbow, mouthwatering in their suggestion of strength. He flexed his arms, making her laugh, before she slid her hands to his waist, down to the narrow cut of his hips.
“Pretty,” she murmured, then pressed her teeth against his shoulder as she cupped his buttocks, digging her nails in.
He gasped, laughed, and tried to turn, but she held him firm, lips teasing the side of his neck. “I didn’t say I was done looking.”
He laughed again and stilled. “Aye-aye, captain.”
She snorted, hiding a smile against his neck, before she stepped around to face him again. He didn’t move, and she cooed out her praise, watching a flush bloom along his chest, gooseflesh prickling his skin. For a moment, she just took him in — hard lines mixed with smooth curves, soft skin with coarse hair, his skin heated and burning for her — and the prize of it all, his cock bobbing proudly in front of him, hard, thick, shaped so perfectly to make her moan that just the thought of it then sent a stab of arousal through her belly, made her lick her lips.
“Fuck, Eva,” he grunted, and his hips twitched against air, making his cock bob again. “You drive me insane when you look at me like that.”
She grinned, wild, and reached out to scratch her nails down his belly, tracing the faint ridges of his abdomen. “Then should I touch?”
He grinned back, raising his eyebrows. “And let you win? Or I could—”
Before he could say another word, Eva dropped to her knees, wrapped her left hand around the base of his cock. Smiled up at him when he gasped, and watched his eyes flutter, then darken as she stroked him, long and slow, her new ring glinting in the low light.
“Eva,” he moaned. “Let me—”
She took the head of his cock into her mouth, and his words died on a groan. Sucking languidly, she bobbed her head in short, slow movements, tracing her tongue along the underside of him until she was rewarded with a fresh taste of his arousal. His hands buried themselves in her hair, pulling it back, and she thanked him by taking him deeper until she felt him at the back of her throat. Steadying herself with her hands on his hips, she swallowed the rest of him then, felt him twitch in her throat as she pressed her tongue along the thick ridge of him.
“Baby, you can finish that later,” he gasped, then pulled her head off of his cock, pulling her to stand. “We’ve got all night, I want you—”
Gripping her waist, he picked her up and pushed, sending her just off balance enough to fall back onto the mattress behind her. She laughed as her head hit the pillows, the bed bouncing again as he jumped on after her, and she met him eagerly for a kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck to hold him close.
When he pulled back to gaze down at her, she arched her back and coyly brought her hand up to her chest, tracing her collarbone lightly as she watched him grin, eyes sparking with heat.
“Look at you, wearing nothing but my ring.”
She grinned back at him, then let her hand trail down to her breast, cupping it as his gaze became molten. “When I get you yours, I want to see the same.”
“I’ll make sure to put on a show,” he laughed, and lightly thrust his hips against her, his cock nudging her thigh, slick from her mouth and his arousal.
She reached down for him, meaning to bring him to her sex, but he batted her hand away, then brought his between her thighs, sliding his fingers through soaked folds.
“Fuck,” she bit out, hips jerking, he knew just where to touch her, and he let out a laugh.
“I love it when you get like this,” he said, and the tip of one finger found her clit, circling it lightly. “Needy and desperate.”
She tried to snarl, found it just came out as a gasp. “Didn’t know proposing would make you so cocky.”
“Can you blame me?” He slid a finger to her entrance and slowly pushed it in. She clenched around him, shivering at the pleasant stretch, and he moaned lightly above her. “This gorgeous woman in my bed said she wants to be mine — I feel as cocky as a rooster.”
She laughed, rolling her eyes, then bent one leg at the knee to take him deeper. Her laugh trailed off into a moan when he ground his palm against her clit, rocking against it rhythmically. “What does the rooster plan to do, then?”
He grinned, then slipped another finger inside her, slick and easy. He curled them, pressing deeper, and as she shuddered and twitched, he moved down between her thighs, settling in like he belonged there, and perhaps he does, she thought, giddy, pressing her heels into his back.
“I’m going to pleasure my wife,” he said with a smirk, curling his fingers again.
“I’m not your wife yet,” she gasped, but she was flying high on the word, wife, wife, she would be his wife, and he would be her husband, forever and always.
He laughed, mouthing at her thighs, licking his way towards her sex. “Say the word, Eva, I’ll go tomorrow with you.” He licked at the crease of her hip, nipping the delicate skin lightly. “Down to the courthouse.” He ran his tongue over where his fingers pressed into her, moaning at the taste. “Sign the papers.” He did something light and tricky over her clit, and she was whining, burying a hand in his hair as she pulled. “Wherever and whenever.”
With a sudden vigor, he sucked her clit into his mouth, lapping it rhythmically with firm strokes while his fingers pulsed and curled. She arched nearly off the bed with the sudden onslaught of sensation, writhing, a staccato little, “Gott, Ryland, fuck,” falling from her lips in between gasps. He threw his arm over her hips, holding her down as he continued his pace, and for a dizzying moment she was caught by the sight of his head trapped between her thighs, his forearm flexed on her hips and his face such a study of blissful concentration that she threw her head back and let herself go.
She was pulsing around his fingers, coming with a breathy shout that had him moaning, working her through her peak with curls of his fingers, more gentle strokes of his tongue until even that was too much and she pushed on his head until he stopped. Panting, her heart hammering in her chest, she slowly opened her thighs, muscles trembling from the sudden strength of her orgasm. He just turned his head though, kissing the insides of her thighs soothingly, leaving damp little spots of her arousal while he rubbed his hands up and down her hips, kneading them softly.
When she’d mostly caught her breath, heaving out one deep, final breath, he crawled up the length of her body, giving her a cocky grin as he peppered little kisses up her sternum.
“I think I won,” he said, settling his weight onto his forearms, and she gave him a flat look.
“Don’t be a poor winner, you’ll ruin the moment.”
He still just grinned. “I don’t know, I just think making you come in two minutes flat warrants this reaction.”
She rolled her eyes, then quick as anything, she hooked her leg over his, rolling them until she landed neatly straddling his hips, trapping him to the bed with her thighs. “And if the competition isn’t finished?”
His eyes roved over her body, eyes lidded and heated, and she felt his cock twitch against her when she started a small rock of her hips, slicking him with her arousal. “Then please continue. I’m happy here — god, Eva, look at you.”
She snorted and grinned, planting her hands on his chest. Flicking her hair over one shoulder, she lifted to her knees, holding there as he reached between them, and when he’d lined himself up, she slowly sunk back down, humming as she took him in and settled back onto his lap.
“Oh, baby,” he moaned, whining softly when she purposefully clenched around him. “Feels like a dream sometimes, you look so good, feel so good, can’t believe…”
He trailed off on a moan when she rolled her hips, hands gripping her hips. She hummed softly at the feel of him, seated deep inside, pressing achingly against her walls in a delicious stretch. She rolled her hips again, rocking against just the bottom inch of him in a slow, teasing rhythm. “Believe it, darling,” she murmured, and the endearment sent him gasping — she made a note of that. “You’ll need to, to be my husband.”
He gasped, “Fuck, baby,” and tried to sit up, but she held him firm, pressed her left hand harder against his chest until she felt the band of her ring dig into his skin, thought it might bruise him.
“Do you like me calling you that?” she breathed, grinning down at him. “My husband?”
His hand flew to hers, covering it, gripping until she was sure the stones dug into his palm, leaving a mark there too. “More than I ever thought, Eva, my wife.”
“Not yet, darling,” she reminded again, but she was laughing, free and easy, and rode him faster, a quick bounce of her hips that had him rubbing against the swollen spot inside her, made her flutter and squeeze around him.
Wife. She knew marriage was mostly an economic contract, historically and even into the modern day, and she had never been one to moon over the romantic notion of it, had never much considered it a goal in her life, particularly once the taskforce had formed. And yet, and yet, some secret part of her heart was soaring at the thought — she would have a husband, he would be hers just as she would be his, and the whole world would know from just a glance at their rings, the mark of their love, their bond, their choice of each other.
Eva looked at him then — flushed to his chest, bruises blooming on his neck where she’d made her mark, muscles in his shoulders and arms twitching as he kneaded her hip, gripped her hand with a strength that told her he was just hanging onto composure. His eyes sparked with arousal, and yet so loving as they took her in, lingering on her breasts where they moved with her rhythm. She huffed out a laugh at that, men.
Maneuvering her arms, she pressed her breasts together, arching her back as she grinned down at him, still rocking her hips over his cock. “Fuck me, husband.”
With a sharp growl, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled them in one swift movement, landing her on her back. She squealed in delight, wrapping her legs around him, and with a snap of his hips, he drove himself back inside her, pulling a deep moan out of her throat.
“Eva,” he groaned, and snapped his hips again, then again, starting up a hard, deep rhythm.
He was everywhere, his cock stretching her open, the weight of him pressing her to the mattress, the heat of his skin burning against hers, his heart hammering against his chest, hard enough she could feel it, feel it beat for her, for them, felt her own heart soar in response.
“Ryland,” she breathed back. “Darling, husband, want you—”
She was cut off when he kissed her hard, though as quick as it began he was pulling back, his lips finding her neck, her chest instead, all teeth and tongue and want.
She scored her nails down his back as he drove into her, and he hissed, moaned, slid a hand down to grip her thigh, pull it up higher on his waist. “That's it baby,” he rasped against her shoulder, “leave your mark.”
She moaned, a broken sound, the change in angle had him rubbing against her clit, a sharp and sudden pleasure that had her clamping down around him, then gasping when that only sent her higher. Her thighs trembled, her belly squeezed, and she turned her head to breathe him in, she couldn’t be close enough, she wanted to burrow into his chest, get under his skin and live there just as he lived under hers.
His hips snapped faster, he was close, his release trembling under his skin like a live wire, and the knowledge made her keen — she wanted him to lose himself in her, plant his flag and never leave.
“Come for me,” she whispered, broken by a moan, and the words made his breath shudder, his hand tightening to bruising on her thigh.
“You first,” he grit out.
Then he was pushing himself up on his forearms, and first she cried at the loss of him pressed so tightly against her, but then he ground his hips against hers, and the drag him against her clit had her cracking, teetering, so close she could taste the edge of her release, sweet spikes of pleasure throbbing through her core that she chased and chased and chased, bucking her hips against him.
“Gonna,” he panted, his breath hot against her skin where he mouthed at her, “make my wife come.”
And at the word, she was, a long, loud wail pulled from her throat as her cunt pulsed around him, pleasure crashing through her nerves. Not a moment later he sobbed her name, his hips twitching wildly against her as he let go, falling into her, moaning into her neck as she felt the warmth of his release spill inside her.
Eva thought it was a long while before she found the strength to smooth a hand down his back. He hummed at the touch, a sweet little sound that made her smile, and she turned her head to press a kiss to his hair, tousled and sex dampened.
“Eva,” he sighed against her skin, long and precious, a tone that made her giggle, giddy as she was that he could say her name so lovingly, so sweet that she felt she was falling in love all over again.
He slowly shifted, slipping from her, and then he was gathering her up and rolling them until they lay on their sides, faces just inches away, his wrapped around her, and one of her legs still thrown over his hip where she didn’t want to let him go.
Cupping his cheek, she leaned in and kissed him slowly, letting out a pleased sigh when he smoothed a hand around the flair of her ribs, warm and firm, a comforting touch on her skin. All of the frenetic energy they had built now faded into something soft, shared, a gentle settling into a foundation found to be strong and true.
“Going to propose monthly, when it leads to sex like that,” he murmured quietly, and she laughed, nudging his nose with hers.
“Takes the novelty out of it a little.”
He grinned and quirked an eyebrow. “But only a little? Still worth it.”
She snorted, letting her eyes slip closed in contentment. For a few minutes, they just breathed together, his hand drawing idle patterns along her spine, when suddenly he chuckled, and she cracked an eye to see him smirking at her.
“Can I say that I won this competition now?”
She buried a hand in his hair, tugging it in response. “The night’s still not over. We’ll count at the end of it.”
“But I’m ahead, right?”
Eva laughed, free, happy, and pressed her forehead to his. “Oh, Ryland,” she whispered, emotions cresting in her chest in a sudden wave. Love, glee, pleasure to share her life with a man like him — and above all, a gratitude for him, a gratefulness that he saw her, understood her, had stood by her through every harsh decision — and loved her all the same. “Oh, Ryland, I don't know how I would have survived this without you.”
Her breath hitched, just slightly, and he stroked his hand firmly down her back, pulling her closer. “You’re Eva Stratt,” he whispered, and his voice was soft, reverent. “You would have found a way.”
She gave him a small smile, tugging at his hair again. “Always such faith.”
“Of course,” he responded without hesitation, then cupped her cheeks, smoothing her hair away from her face. “But baby, you'll never have to know.”
A small prick of melancholy tugged at her heart, a knowledge of the future she could never forget. “You can't promise that—”
“Shh.” He kissed her lightly to quiet her. “Let me make grand, sweeping promises on our engagement night.” He grinned, his eyes a bright, joyful blue as he gazed at her. “On our engagement night and our wedding night, I get to make you impossible promises.”
Eva smiled; gratitude, that he could pull her back from the brink. “Oh?” she asked, and raised an eyebrow. “And what other impossible promises will you make?”
“I promise,” he pecked a kiss to her lips, then her nose, then her forehead, “to bring you strawberries in bed, every morning. Even in the dead of winter.”
She grinned, pressed her own kiss to his chin. “The little ones, they’re sweeter. What else?”
“And…” he trailed off, thinking, as he kissed across her hairline. “I promise never to put my foot in my mouth again.”
“Well, now I know you lie.”
“Hey.”
They both laughed, soft and easy, and she trailed her hand down his neck, his shoulders, following the divot of his spine down, tracing every inch of him, hers. “And do I get to make you impossible promises tonight, too?”
“I thought Eva Stratt could make everything come true?”
“Only things in my control.”
“Alright,” he laughed. “Then what do you promise me tonight that’s out of your control?”
She hummed, thinking, then gave him a sly smile. “I promise to laugh at all your jokes.”
“Oh,” he groaned, laughing. “Starting big, alright.”
“And…” She nuzzled into him, returning his gesture of peppering his features with kisses. “And I promise never to forget another meal.”
“That one is well within your control,” he reminded, grinning. “But you’re lucky I like reminding you to eat.”
She grinned too, then wrapped her arms back around his neck, pressing her forehead to his. “This one’s not impossible,” she whispered.
He raised his eyebrows. “And what’s that?”
“I promise to love you forever.”
She heard his breath catch in his throat, saw the faint shimmer of tears in his eyes. “Eva,” he breathed, and she thought she’d never hear her name sound so pretty again. “The universe will go dark and cold before I stop loving you.”
Gently, tenderly, she met him for a kiss, poured everything into it she couldn’t say — felt him return it, understand it completely.
With a clever move, she rolled him until she lay on top of him. Propped up on his chest, she gazed down at him, studied him, traced the lines of cheek and jaw with the tip of her finger.
Then smirking, she started a journey down, pressing heated kisses to his stomach, feeling it jump and twitch under her mouth.
“Now,” she said, and felt his cock twitch as she nipped at his hip. “I have a competition to win.”