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The decision to marry her had been an easy one. Sammara would make an outstanding wife. A loving mother. A perfect partner, as intelligent and ambitious as she was beautiful.
But the five of us. Uniting as one…
That was an even bigger motivation for me. To have this woman — this wonderful, remarkable woman — as the common thread that wove us all together for the rest of our lives? It was almost a dream. Kyle, Ryan, Dakota and I… we were already inseparable. Brought together in battle, we’d forged bonds that could never be broken, regardless of time or circumstance or distance.
And yet now there would be no distance. We’d be as a single unit — a tight-knit family. An unorthodox relationship for sure, but one that would be five times stronger than anything I’d ever had before.
I looked her over, watching her sleep. Seeing the rise and fall of her warm, feminine body as it lay beside me in the twinkling darkness.
God, she was so absolutely perfect.
In the beginning I’d doubted it, to be honest. Not because I hadn’t desired it, but because I was skeptical. I couldn’t imagine us finding a woman who could fulfill all of our needs, and yet still be fulfilled by us as well. One that could get along with us. Tolerate us. Love us all, despite our faults and differences and shortcomings.
But Sammara had seen past all that.
She was a spitfire; strong and sassy and tough as nails when crossed, or whenever she needed to be. But beneath it all, a heart of gold. An emotional openness and genuine caring that brought me back from the brink of a very dark place. One I’d visited too many times, over too many years.
One that was now, thanks to her, virtually gone.
We woke the next morning and did it all over again, this time in the shower, this time face to face. We kissed for what seemed like forever in the rising steam, letting the hot water wash over our bodes. It was so overwhelmingly sensuous, staring into her cobalt blue eyes. Sharing that sly smile in the middle of it all, while slowly grinding away, deep inside her.
The shower was sort of our thing, really. It had been, ever since the night we’d first met. A night of danger and fury and excitement… and ultimately, a night of intensity and pent-up frustration as the two of us took solace and comfort in the physically raw, emotionally magnificent act of screwing each other’s brains out.
Sammara.
My wife.
Even the sound of it sent my pulse racing. It touched a part of me I’d never realized I’d had — filled a void deep inside me that had somehow always been empty… at least until I’d let her in.
“You starving too?”
She asked the question casually as she shook out her hair. As if she wasn’t even aware of the place she held in my heart.
“Hell yes.”
“Good,” she smiled, whipping me with the towel on her way from the bathroom. My eyes followed every graceful curve of her naked body. “Fall in and let’s roll out.”
I chuckled inwardly. It was one of the most endearing things about her; her little attempts at using military jargon. She was always just a tiny bit off, although sometimes she came damned close. The four of us found it cute and adorable. Not one of us would ever correct her.
“Yes Ma’am.”
Our day in the city was a whirlwind of sights and sounds and places. Since I’d planned last night I let her take the lead, and we ended up traveling, as always, to look at what Sammara deemed the ‘coolest’ old architecture in the city.
We shopped at a half-dozen stores, stopped at two different museums, and had lunch overlooking the river. But the best part for me was holding hands. I loved glancing over at her whenever she got excited about something, which was quite often. Watching her beautiful face light up like a Christmas tree… and silently knowing she was mine.
In the end she came close to outlasting me. Just as I was opening my mouth to suggest we head back, Sammara turned and flung herself into my arms, kissing me fiercely.
“Take me back to our room again.”
We went, and this time around we took our time. We fucked slowly, lazily. Drinking each other in like two lovers sharing the same breath. I screwed my fiancé with her luscious thighs spread achingly wide, and Sammara rode me while the sun set behind the last row of buildings, where the fire of the orange sky gave way to a deep, brilliant purple.
When we were finished, she cuddled up into the crook of my arm and asked me about Di Spatia. She wanted to know the exotic places we’d been, and what we were doing there, and whether or not she needed to be worried. But I didn’t want to talk about Di Spatia.
I only wanted to talk about her.
We ordered room service rather than go out, and just ate and laughed and talked. We ordered some movie, and didn’t watch a single minute. Eventually we were naked again, spreading out across the cool sheets to plant tiny kisses up and down each other’s bodies. When we’d taken what we needed from each other again we lay together silently, in the darkness. Listening to the sounds of the streets below.
“You have to go away, don’t you?”
