Page 73 of Taking Jenny
I pulled back while I still could, my breaths heaving. “We should stop.”
Confusion flickered in her eyes. “Why?”
“Because until twenty minutes ago, you hated me.”
Her gaze searched mine. “I don’t hate you, Mal. I’ve never hated you.”
“Then why were you so angry at supper?” I asked, perplexed.
“You took Tiger to the palace!”
“I didn’t have a choice, Jenny,” I argued. “You know I didn’t.”
She pursed her lips and dropped her hands back down to her sides. “I thought you said you’re agooddistraction.”
“Maybe I’m a terrible one,” I muttered.
She looked up at me and sighed. “Mal…what is this between us? I don’t understand you. I mean, at first, I thought you were with Discord—"
I burst out laughing. “What?”
She frowned at me. “I wasn’t sure before, but after watching you two dance? No doubt in my mind.”
“There’s nothing intimate or romantic between us,” I assured her, still amused by the assumption. “Discord is my friend—nothing more. Not ever.”
“I figured that when she didn’t kill you for sleeping with Tiger…but speaking of that, you’ve flirted with me since the day I met you, and then suddenly you’re in bed with someone who openly hated you. Can you really blame me for being confused?”
“No,” I admitted. “Not at all. But maybe if you’d let me finish what I want to say to you once in a while—”
“Oh, you mean instead of biting my neck?” she said in a sassy tone.
I leaned close enough to taste her neck again. “You didn’t seem to mind.”
“I didn’t,” she breathed, instinctively tipping her head back to give me better access. “Except I did. Because I thought you were with Discord, and I fully expected her to kill me for messing with her man.”
I grinned against her throat, breathing her in. “You smell like dessert.”
She shivered. “What do I taste like?”
I touched my tongue to her skin. “Like whickler and dreams of sweet things. But I want to know how youfeel.”
“Yes,” she hissed, her hands gripping my arms.
Lifting my head, I stared into her eyes as I traced a line from her throat down to her collarbone with my finger, then lower, palming her breast through her dress. So soft. So addictive. She moaned, pulling my mouth down to hers once more. I kissed her hard, lost in the heat of her body and the sounds she made, like every breath was for me.
But I couldn’t fuck her. Not yet. If I let myself go there…I wouldn’t survive losing her if she did not survive Illiapol, but I could give her other pleasures.
Releasing her lips, I spun her around to face the railing and lifted her hair over her shoulder. I licked up the side of her neck savoring her tremble, then slipped my hand around her hip and dragged the hem of her dress up her thighs.
Her breath caught as my fingers brushed across her skin in a seductive tease. “Touch me, please,” she whispered, widening her stance.
“Are you sure?” I murmured into her ear as my hand slid into her panties, then stilled. “Or are you still mad at me?”
“Fucking touch me, you bastard.”
I chuckled right before I bit the side of her neck and dipped my fingers between her legs. She was hot and slick, and when I stroked her clit, she shuddered and moaned. I worked her in tight circles, her hips grinding for more. Then I slid lower, circling her entrance.
“So wet for me already,” I murmured huskily into her ear. “What happens when you’re fucked?”
