As much as he enjoyed every little thing she was doing, the presence of Joaquin marred the moment. So Malcolm set forth to clean the scent from her body to the best of his ability, to where the taint was a barely there annoyance overcome by the sugar scrubs that lived on his counter. She had begun to relax completely as he manipulated her form. Malcolm held doubt about his physiological response to her — why he reacted so strongly to her presence, her scent and sounds. Why he wanted her, despite everything. And yet, he couldn’t help himself, his cock growing heavy with his carnal urges.

He tried to focus on the task, but it was nigh impossible. The small sighs she made, and how her muscles became more supple as he moved along her body.

His heart was racing by the time he’d lathered her hair, and he closed his eyes, stifling a groan when she leaned against him. Within, his dark passenger wore a path in his mind, pacing with pent up energy. He, too, waited for her to be free of the odour, despite the overwhelming urge to take.

Malcolm rinsed her hair and his eyes closed when he felt her lips on his pectoral, dragging in a breath to resist his instinct. Instead, he turned off the water, and lifted her as he’d done before. He stepped carefully out of the shower, grabbing the two towels and moving back to the couch. Unlike their previous journey, he was throbbing with the need to take her. It didn’t matter if it was conditioning or something True; he was going to do it.

The white terry was a stark contrast to the caramel of her skin, especially against the bruises on her chest. Malcolm used a light touch over the injuries, glancing at Soraya’s face for a wince or anything that resembled discomfort. As he moved the towel over her arms, holding one hand to dry her fingers, he finally met her gaze.

His light attentions stilled, and he fell into the depths of her dark cocoa pools. For the third time, Malcolm kissed her.

He suppressed the more primal desire to just take what he wanted, intense as it was. Soraya’s damp locks were heavy between his fingers as he cradled her head, tasting her lips slowly before he deepened the kiss. Unlike the first two meeting of their lips, filled with rage and a possessive intent, or a wanton need to have, this one was soft; his tongue exploratory but firm in its insistence. He wanted to savour every sigh that flowed from her.

A low rumble vibrated in his chest as her hand curled around his neck, and he captured her wrist with a warning sound when she reached for his cock. A light nip of her chin brought out her whimper as he descended to the contour of her neck. Saliva flooded his mouth, wanting to bite, to taste the blood that made her pulse stutter. An urge he denied. Human. Frail.

Instead, he nibbled the swan curve, moving ever downward until he nuzzled the valley of her chest. He dared a glance towards her face before the heat of his mouth captured the wanton peak of her breast. Teeth grazed and his tongue swirled in a circle until her back arched against him. The musk of her arousal flooded the air, pushing out all other scents save the honey of her skin. Soraya’s fingers raked over his scalp as he moved his lips to her other breast, wanting to leave both tight buds swollen from his attention.

Malcolm released his grasp on her wrist, the cushion sinking under his weight between her legs. He felt her squirm until the sweltering heat of her sex pressed against his thigh, and he couldn't help his groan. He released her hair to grasp her hips and pull her away with a quick tug. A soft yelp of surprise made him smile before he found her mouth again, gliding his fingers across her stomach until they found her wet need at the junction of her thighs. A small gasp followed, and Malcolm honed in on the goddess beneath him with every sense he possessed. Within, his dark passenger seemed to understand the need to be soft, to go slowly. Anticipation had been building ever since she’d first cornered him in the shower, and victory was going to be oh so sweet.

Malcolm curled his hand around the back of her neck as she squirmed, the flutter of her heartbeat under his thumb. Soraya’s knees spread further with another writhing undulation as he explored her slick folds, seeking out that sensitive bundle of nerves. Her pulse thrummed a staccato, Soraya ending their kiss with a soft exclamation. Malcolm twirled and teased until her breathing broke into small gasps of air, and he squeezed his grip on her neck, restricting blood flow. 

He leaned back to seek that beautiful, wordless confession of truth she'd revealed to him. The simple, pure expression that lived within only a few seconds of time, in the darkness of their previous couplings. Their hearts were thundering in flawless rhythm, and his verdant bronze drank in the sight of her hitching breath, the wide part of her lips from a soft mewl, and finally the perfect full-body spasm that twisted her into a curvature of bliss. Her moan rode a scream, and a wave of pleasure made him shudder as he felt her juices slicken his hand.

He let go of her neck, sliding his fingers through hers, and grabbed the cushioned arm above them. The tight squeeze of his fingers would leave a bruise on her leg, just above the knee. He drove into her pulsing heat with a growl, unable to wait another second. As much as he wanted to go harder, faster, he kept an iron grip on his control. Blue and green fought in his gaze, the only hint as to the battle raging within. A war that toed the line of release without losing his humanity.

Still, the couch moved a scant few millimetres every time he buried himself in her silken walls. With every thrust of his hips he pressed against her clit, ever quicker until the furniture had nowhere else to go. Soraya cried out as he slammed into her, that tight ball of tension unravelling in rapturous bliss. As he rode the ecstasy of his release, that control he'd been practising on his dark passenger slipped to the very tip of his fingers in a near fatal moment. Malcolm buried his face in her neck and used the feeling of her heart thumping against his chest to regain his sense of reality.

Their panting punctuated the silence, and he decided that there was no better place in time or space than in this instance.

Soraya had come to him, despite everything that he’d done. Even though he was at fault for the blossoming bruise on her cheek, she still wanted to be with him. Her response to him was all that mattered.

Malcolm lifted from her, feeling himself stir, ready for more. A smile tilted his lips, and he decided he wasn’t done, not by a long shot. Tonight, he was going to do all the things he always wanted to do since the future was to be determined.