Page 54 of Alien Mercenary's Wife
Raw need surged through him at the challenge in her voice. He captured her hands, pinning them gently above her head with one of his own. "Then perhaps I should stop asking and start taking."
Her breath caught, pulse visibly quickening at the base of her throat. "Perhaps you should."
Her look broke his restraint. He claimed her mouth again, his free hand making quick work of the remaining fastenings. As the fabric parted, revealing smooth skin andpractical undergarments, he made a sound deep in his throat—appreciation and hunger mixed into possessiveness.
She was his. All his.
"Beautiful," he murmured against her lips, trailing kisses down her throat.
She arched beneath him, her body moving with the same control he'd seen during training.
"T'Raal," she gasped as his mouth found the junction of her neck and shoulder. "I need?—"
"Tell me what you need." He slid his hand beneath her back, supporting her as she arched toward him.
"You." She strained against his hold with just enough resistance to feel the power in his restraint. "All of you."
He pulled back long enough to strip his shirt over his head, finally releasing her wrists. Her hands immediately explored the newly exposed skin, tracing scars with appreciation and unmistakable hunger.
"So much for professional distance," she murmured, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she ran her palms across his chest.
"Professional distance was never going to work with you." He helped her remove her own shirt completely. "Not when you challenge me at every turn."
"You like being challenged." Her fingers traced the waistband of his pants, teasing. "It's written all over your face every time I push back."
He captured her wandering hands, pressing a kiss to each palm before placing them firmly at her sides. "And you like pushing to see how far I'll let you go."
Her eyes darkened at his tone, something vulnerable flickering behind the desire. "No one's ever pushed back before. Not like you do."
"Get used to it." He lowered his head to press a kiss directly over her heart. "I'm not going anywhere either."
Her hands tangled in his hair as he explored her body with deliberate care, learning what made her gasp, what made her arch beneath him, what made her whisper his name. When he finally settled between her thighs, weight supported on his forearms, she looked up at him, her expression open and honest.
"T'Raal," she said, cupping his face. "I want this. I want you."
"And you have me."
He claimed her mouth as he positioned himself between her thighs. Her skin burned hot against his, the contrast of her smaller body beneath his massive frame sending primal possession surging through his blood.
He pressed forward, watching her face as he entered her. Her eyes widened, lips parting on a gasp that he swallowed with another kiss. She felt incredible around him as he fought for control. Nothing had prepared him for this—for the feeling of being inside her.
Her nails dug into his shoulders as he seated himself fully within her, his cock stretching her around the thick length of him. Holding still, he gave her time to adjust, even though every instinct screamed at him to move, to claim, to fuck her until she screamed his name. Her breath came in short pants against his neck.
"Okay?" he managed, voice barely recognizable.
In answer, she rolled her hips, taking him deeper. The movement nearly shattered his control. He pulled back slowly, then thrust forward with more force than he'd intended, driven by need that overwhelmed rational thought.
She moaned, the sound vibrating against his lips. Her legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, urging him deeper. He obeyed, establishing a rhythm that had her gasping with each powerful thrust. Her body responded tohis every movement, rising to meet his, and her pussy gripping him like a vice.
But then she surprised him, rolling them both until she was astride him and taking control. Her hands braced against his chest as she began to ride him, watching his face with satisfaction as he surrendered to her rhythm.
"My turn," she said, and the commanding edge in her voice made him groan as she ground down on his cock.
He gripped her hips, guiding but not controlling, letting her take what she needed. The sight of her moving above him—head thrown back, spine arched, completely uninhibited—sent fire racing through his veins.
He'd never given up control like this before. But with her, power shifted between them naturally.
When she leaned forward, changing the angle, he couldn't hold back the guttural sound that escaped his throat. Her smile was pure satisfaction.
