Gods, this woman was going to kill him. He gripped her hips, preventing her from repeating the move. His fingers dug into the soft flesh as he seated himself fully inside her.
Jenna gave a long, trembling sigh. “This is perfect,” she whispered. “You’reperfect, Malik.” She wriggled against him, although he still held her fast, hampering her movements.
He started to thrust then, deep and slow, withdrawing almost to the tip before plunging deep once more. “I’ve dreamed of fucking you like this,” he admitted roughly. “The clan-lord’s haughty sister. You’re even hotter than I imagined.”
Jenna gave a guttural groan in response, and he increased his rhythm to match the rasp of their breathing.
Jenna hung her head between her braced arms. He could feel the way her body quivered with each thrust, the way her core fluttered against his cock. She was drawing close. He wanted to push her over the brink.
Malik let go of her hips then, and one hand slid down between her shoulder blades as fingers traced the indentation of her spine, before both his hands splayed out across her backside. He spread her wider still then, lifting her up to change the angle of his penetration.
“Malik!” Jenna’s voice turned high, raw.
He thrust into her again and felt a rush of wet heat. Growling her name, he increased the speed and force of his thrusts.
Jenna writhed against him, impaling herself on his length, and bringing him deeper still.
Malik took her wildly now, vaguely aware that Jenna was crying out, gasping words, pleas.
She still needed more. And when he reached between her thighs, his fingers sliding through her wetness to the sensitive nub there, Jenna’s raw cry filled the room.
Arching hard against him, she shattered.
And at that moment, all Malik’s fantasies came true—for Jenna Mir-Brennan screamed his name.
17. EVERYTHING
AN INSISTENT ‘BLEEPING’ roused Jenna from a deep sleep.
Stretching upon the bed, she came awake slowly, as if rising from a deep, warm pool. Sleep tugged at her, beckoning her back. However, that annoying sound wouldn’t let her be.
Jenna’s eyes flickered open, and she groaned as pain lanced through her temples.
She was aware then that she lay stretched out across a naked male body.
Malik lay upon his back, cradling her against his broad chest—and the bleeping was coming from the device strapped to his wrist.
Pain lanced across Jenna’s temples, and she stifled another groan. Her mouth was dry and her mind foggy.
Dragging her gaze down Malik’s nakedness, and then realizing that she, too, was unclothed, Jenna tried to make sense of the situation.
An instant later, it all came back, barreling into her with such clarity that she gasped.
Their search for a mercenary. Hiring Vic the cyborg atThe Hook and Horn. The cocktails they’d drunk together. The attack outside the pleasure house. The wild sex she and Malik had once they got back to the room.
Every detail was etched in her mind, and yet at the same time, it was as if she was remembering someone else’s memory.
Pulse fluttering at the base of her throat, Jenna gently shook her lover awake.
“Malik.”
His eyelids fluttered, and then his eyes opened, their violet depths unfocused for a few moments before they sharpened.
For a heartbeat, he stared up at Jenna. “What?” he croaked.
“Your wrist-comm.”
Blearily, he brought his wrist close to his face and squinted at it. He then swore. “We need to be at the spaceport in an hour.”
