Page 22 of The Silent Mate

I didn’t look up to see his reaction, but his hand pressed harder into my hip, fingertips digging into my fleshy backside. A beat of unbearable silence passed between us. Then another, and I realized I was clutching the edge of the countertop for dear life.

At last, Malik lowered his head once more. This time, however, he did not stop.

His lips parted at the base of my throat, just above the left side of my collarbone. And he kissed me there.

It was a slow, thorough caress, his tongue gliding along my pulse point for one long moment. Followed by the scraping of his teeth, gentle and tentative. Not hard enough to pierce my skin, even though a part of me craved that bite of pain.

My eyelashes fluttered closed, a sense ofrightnessspilling over my body. I barely managed to swallow back a moan.

Malik lifted his head from my neck, just an inch, but I couldn’t contain my whimper. A throaty, desperate sound that begged him to come back and kiss my throat again. Fortunately, he simply brushed his mouth upward, toward the hollow beneath my ear, before repeating the process on this new spot.

I exhaled my contentment as his palm moved to spread across my nape, tangling in my hair. My stomach fluttered, winding up the growing tightness beneath my navel, and I dared to rock my hips forward.

If it weren’t for his solid body, I would’ve slipped directly offthe countertop. As it was, my center rolled against the mass straining against his sweats, offering a hint of blessed relief for the tension building there.

A hiss of air rushed past his lips, fanning my skin and sending a shiver down my vertebrae. I surprised him, it seemed, but he recovered quickly enough, rewarding me by sealing his lips over the base of my throat and sucking—hard.

My skin stung as he pulled, then nibbled, and sucked again. Overriding any trace of another male’s scent. Lavishing.

Blood pounding, chest heaving, my body felt like it was on fire. I tried to squirm, desperate for a hint of friction against his solid form to quell the flame. My breasts felt heavy. My core felt tingly and slick.

I started to wonder if he felt even a quarter of this all-consumingwant,but not for long.

With his head still buried against my neck, Malik’s hips started to move. He rolled against me with slow, deliberate thrusts. Despite the denim and cotton separating us, his fully erect cock sent bolts to my own sex with each deep undulation.

Eyes closed, I could imagine what it might feel like without our clothing. Would he fill me with these same, long, and purposeful strokes? Slam into me, his wide hips pounding until I manage to take every inch…

Pressure built inside of me. Delicious and filthy. Desperate and greedy. It wanted more. More. More.More.

I chased the unknown, letting instinct guide my actions. Head still rolled back to give my mate full access to my neck, I met his thrusts with my own.

Ragged breaths ripped from his mouth. He bit harder on my neck, still not breaking through my skin’s barrier, butclose.So close to a true mark. I readied myself for that flash of pain, even as I came dangerously close to the edge of…something.

Desperate, I clutched at his shoulders. I needed to touch him. To mark him like he markedme.

My fingers slid up his chest, nails curling into the slabs of muscle. I sought his hair, suddenly eager to run my hands through it. On their way, my hands skimmed over his neck.

Yes. Yes. Yes?—

The pads of my fingers grazed a strange, stiff lump. Malik froze.

It was like being doused by a bucket of ice water.

He wrenched away from my wandering hands. My entire body. Disoriented, I nearly fell from the countertop but managed to catch myself on the edge.

I was shivering. Cold.

When I looked up again, Malik stood several paces away. His chest heaved, and he stared at me with near pitch-black eyes. Wide. Alarmed. And his hands hovered above the jagged, ruined scar that sliced across his voice box, bisecting him from ear to ear. The same scar I’d just touched.

“Oh Goddess!” I cried, immediately sliding down from the counter. “Malik, I didn’t mean to?—”

Color rose on his cheeks, but he continued to cover his scar with trembling hands.Protectingit.

I dared a step forward, but, like repelling magnets, he retreated. His eyes hardened, lips drawing into a straight line. Although he could not speak the words aloud, his expression spoke volumes.Do not touch my scars.Everagain.

My heart clenched to the point of pain, and I staggered back to the counter, bracing my hands on either side of me. I should’ve known. Should’ve been more careful. I should haveasked.Hesitated.

Just as Malik hesitated before he touched me.

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