She flinches again when the door to her room shoots open. Raising her upper body up onto her elbows, she stares at the dark shadowy figure outlined in the door.
Mal stares back.
"You flinched." He says hollowly, staring down at her.
Her breath is still racing, but she inhales slowly, calming herself. "I didn't mean to, and if you try again, I won't."
"I just can't believe…"
"Come here," she orders, finding her voice, "I can prove it. I won't flinch."
"This doesn't change anything," he groans, leaning against the doorframe.
"Let me change it Mal. Let me try and change it."
She offers her hand to him. He stares at her upturned palm, the innocent fear in her eyes set under a determined brow.
He casts his eyes to the floor. "What about…?"
"If you dare mention any name other than yours, I will hurt you," she snaps. "After everything… you have to know there's only you. Now come here."
He purses his lips like he's considering it lightly. She wants to throw something at him. She pulls her knees to her chest, blushing. Rejection stings, as her attempts to reel him back have apparently failed.
"If you think I'm scared of giving myself to you, and that I don't want to just as much as you do, let me prove you wrong. But if you want to make this my fault, you're sorely mistaken. If you leave it at this, it's not because I didn't want you."
He stares up at her again. "You're an idiot to think I don't pray that you'd want me."
She blinks at him, casting her eyes to her knees. "Then come here, and we can stop wanting each other and properly have each other." She bites her lips and blushes.
He takes a deep, shaky breath, and for a minute she believes he's going to leave.
"I'm sorry."
She's wrong.
The door shuts behind them, leaving them in darkness.
He crosses the room in seconds, pinning her on her back. "Make it up to me," he groans. He tangles his hands in her hair, kissing her so roughly and passionately her head falls back. He holds her in place, lowering his body down over hers, brushing his front to hers. When she kisses back, tentatively but with more skill than he expected, he releases her head and moves his hands down her body.
"You flinched," he breathes out again, gripping tight to her hips. He draws away from her lips to kiss her neck. Her hands grab at his hair as his kisses add more pressure to the skin of her neck. She feels the lightest hint of bruising, and can't quite say that the lovebites are unintentional. Nikolai will love this, her tired mind grumbles, but knowing him, he'll probably take credit for them. Mal's mind may also be on their new acquaintance, for his body almost attempts to burrow into hers, making her his. He grinds down against her pelvis, feeling her writhe against his body. Her legs wrap around his hips, while she helps him get her shirt off of her. Its cast to the floor; a billowing white ghost. He pulls his shirt over his head to join hers on the floor.
She wants to pull her chest to his, but he wants to look. Her wrists end up pinned to mattress and her eyes fall on the wall to the left of them, blush coloring her face.
He smirks. "Hey," he says, nuzzling her ear, "I thought you wanted this…" the tip of his nose runs down her neck, sternum, over her right breast. "Is there a problem?"
"None," she answers flippantly, playing at experience, "Other than the fact you're taking your sweet time."
He chuckles and his breath brushes over her nipple. She arches her back with soft gasp. His grin grows wolfish and satisfied as his tongue runs over her nipple, taking it into his mouth to lightly suck on. She squirms against him, grabbing his other hand and bringing it to her left breast. He grows hard at the feel of her soft breasts against the skin of his face and hands. Her skin is silky; his free hand tests every inch of bare skin in reach to prove this. He dips a hand under the waistband of her sleeping pants, and cups a hand over her sex. She groans, especially loud after an experimental wiggle of his fingers along with a harder suck on her tit. She grips fistfuls of his hair, not allowing him to move.
He rubs a gentle pattern of back and forth against her clit until she's babbling incoherently for more and faster and Mal. He wishes he could see her face in the darkness. Not that the sounds aren't arousing enough. Without breeching her, he brings her to her finish, a hushed and blushing one at that.
He grins cockily, yanking her pants down her hips so he can feel her bare against him. She releases his hair to do the same to him. he kisses her as they grind against each other.
Something is wrong. Yes, he envisioned a passionate entanglement with Alina too many times to count in the passing months. But the first time feeling her like this…rushing like this… not savoring her…
It felt wrong to take her like this, and she was already naked. Yet he couldn't get a good look at her. He was so focused on touching her he wasn't feeling her, enjoying her, and letting her feel and enjoy him. They weren't doing this right.
He draws his lips away from her for only a moment, to slow things down.
"Mal, please…" she groans, rubbing her soaking heat against his cock. He physically jerks his hips against her, losing control of his movements. Her fiery mouth is pressed to his, driving him mad over the longing in her kiss. This could be scary for her, and painful, and uncomfortable, and she wanted to just dive into this…
"I can't," he says, pushing her shoulders down into the mattress. "Not like this. We can't when it's like this."
Her wide eyes are stunned by the abrupt halt. Slowly, understanding sinks in. She goes painfully still, heart racing.
"Maybe it's better this way." She brushes his hair out of his face. "If you don't want to…"
"I want to," he groans as if in pain. "Saints, Alina, the minute I step out of this room I'm going to be dying. But not like this. Not when we fought an hour ago."
She draws the sheets over her chest, not giving him a moment to retract his protest.
"Fine," she says with a pink blush. "I-I understand."
He kisses her brow hard, holding her face in his hands as though she's about to blow away. "It is taking everything in me to not have you, but I'm not going to tonight. Can you forgive me?"
She nods stiffly, knowing he is right. Not after this fighting. Not after the Darkling appeared in this same room, leering at her. Not when she originally flinched away from his touch.
He starts to pull his clothes back on, and she rolls away from him to make some kind of distance between them. Any touch would be tortuous now.
He squeezes her hand. "I have to go, because if I stay here, I may be in severe pain for the remainder of the night."
She blushes at this, a pleased little flush. She smiles.
"Fine," she says flippantly, tossing her hair as he crawls out of her bed, retreating to the door. "I suppose you'll have to make it up to me."
He turns over his shoulder, looking at her perfect, kissed lips, red cheeks, glazed eyes, and mussed hair. It takes all the power in his body to not pounce on her.
"Goodnight, Alina," he gasps out and shuts the door quickly.
She giggles to herself, realizing she hadn't heard his voice go that high since they were thirteen.