Act of Passion Page 8

  She pushed on his shoulders until he lay flat on his back. Brooke eased up and over him, her naked form pressed to his. She dipped her head and kissed him and his cock responded at once, lengthening under her.

  The damn thing didn’t seem to ever tire of being in her.

  She straddled his waist and sat up. She reached down and took hold of him, guiding him to her wet entrance. She sank down onto his cock slowly and he found himself mesmerized by the sight of her riding him. Her long hair was tousled from sleep, only serving to make her even sexier. And her breasts bounced as she began to move up and down on his shaft.

  He took hold of her breasts and realized they didn’t quite fit in his large hands. He grinned and kneaded her soft globes as she moved on him. If he lived another thousand years, he’d never forget this moment. Never forget what she looked like there, taking him deep into her, gaining pleasure from his body while gifting him so very much more.

  It was on the tip of his tongue to blurt out three little words he’d never said to a woman before. I love you.

  She bounced on him, increasing her pace, and Malik found he couldn’t hold off his orgasm any longer. He released one of her breasts and used his thumb to rub her clit, making her gasp and then toss her head back in ecstasy. She stilled on him as her channel grasped him fully. Malik exploded, his jaw going slack as he moaned in pleasure.

  Her body was awash with the afterglow of sex. “You are the sexiest man I have ever seen.”

  When he spoke, it was in his native tongue. He told her that she was the type of woman who could launch a thousand ships. The type of woman a man worshiped, loved, and cherished. The type of woman a man made his wife.

  She pursed her lips. “No idea what you said but let me be the first to say that was hot as hell and oddly familiar.”

  He laughed.

  She stayed on him, her gaze skimming his upper body. She touched one of his many tattoos. “This one means god, right?” she asked as she skimmed her fingers over script from his native tongue that he had on his body.

  Surprised that she knew that, he put his hand over hers. “Yes. How did you know?”

  She eased off his shaft but stayed on him, her hand still pinned under his. “It was in one of the books I had when I was little…before my parents died. It was a book about ancient Egyptian gods and pharaohs. My dad used to read it to me until I could read myself, when I turned four. Then he’d sit while I read it, and others like it, to him. And he would make up his own stories. He’d say very weird things—like he’d really been in ancient Egypt. I miss him and my mother.”

  Malik wanted to kiss away her sadness. “Do you remember any of his made-up stories?”

  She kissed his chest and then eased up slightly. “Yes. He had a really strong dislike of King Tut.”

  Malik snorted. “I can sympathize.”

  “He’d talk about a king who didn’t want to be king so he stepped aside,” she stated, smiling a touch.

  He held her thighs, keeping her on him. “W-what?”

  “He would tell me these made-up stories and make me say them back to him over and over,” she confessed. “And he’d cry when he told me some of them. Like when he talked about being good friends with the king who didn’t want to be king. And that one day I’d know him too.” She wrinkled her nose. “But then he’d grumble about wanting to kill the guy because of his appetite for women. I was little then. I thought the king who didn’t want to be king actually sat at a table and ate a feast of cooked women. I was scared senseless for a while that he’d show up and gobble me up too.”

  He ran his thumb over her lower lip, unable to shake what her father had said to her. It hit a little too close to home.

  She touched another of his tattoos. “What does this one mean?”

  He moved her fingers over his tattoos. “This all means ‘son of the god king.’”

  Brooked looked stunned—and when she spoke again, it was in perfect ancient Egyptian. She said “son of the god king.”

  With a sharp intake of breath, he continued to run his thumb over her lips. “Brooke? How did you know how to say ‘son of the god king’ in ancient Egyptian?”

  She laughed hard. “I don’t know. It was part of my Dad’s stories.”

  It was anything but made up. Malik tilted her chin upwards. “Brooke, did he teach you anything else?”

  “I guess,” she said. “But I don’t remember much of it anymore. Just certain things he made me repeat endlessly.”

  “Can you tell me what else you remember him teaching you or about him?” he asked.

  “I remember what he looked like. He was tall, like you. Well, honestly, he had a lot in common with you; same color hair, same skin tone, lots of tattoos like you, and your temper,” she said softly, tracing circles on his chest. “Oh, and he had an accent similar to yours but thicker. My mom used to laugh when he’d attempt slang. I thought he was perfect. And I thought he hung the moon. I was totally and completely a daddy’s girl.”

  For a split second, Malik wondered if her father was like him, immortal, but Brooke would be as well, and she wasn’t. She may have fast reflexes but she was human, nothing more. He’d smell it on her if she wasn’t.

  Brooke traced the tattoo that had launched the discussion. “Son of the god king. That would make you a prince, right?”

  Malik bit his inner cheek, unsure how to respond. There was so much he kept from everyone in his life that lying about his past had just been second nature. But lying to her felt wrong. “Yes.”

  She snorted and then kissed the tattoo. “Uh-huh. What you’re saying is I’m living out Edee’s Egyptian fantasy. You know, come here, find a hot prince and make him my sex slave.”

  Malik really liked the idea of being her sex slave. “Edee’s fantasy is that?”

  “Yep,” said Brooke, kissing his chest again. “She’s going to be really jealous when she finds out I did it.”

  He could tell by her tone that she didn’t believe for one moment that he was a prince. But it was true. In what felt like another life, he was heir apparent to the throne. A throne he’d never wanted but had been thrust upon him. A throne he walked away from, allowing another to rule in his place.

  He ran his fingers through her hair. “So now that you have a prince at your service, does it make you want to change your mind on moving in with me?”

  “No,” she said, bending and kissing the tattoos in question once more. She then moved to others. “How many do you have?”

  “I have no idea. A lot. They aren’t anywhere that people can see when I’m dressed and in a long-sleeved shirt. Do they bother you?” he asked, willing to have them removed. It would involve needing to have his skin peeled fully from the area and then allowing his shifter side to heal the damage. The act of getting tattoos to stay and not heal over was something of an art form for supernaturals, and was painful. He didn’t care about the pain. But if Brooke didn’t like them, he’d get rid of every last one.

  “I like them,” she said, lying down on him fully.

  He hugged her to him, his chest tightening with a swell of emotions. “Move in with me.”

  She laughed. “We’re back to that again?”

  “Yes,” he said, running his hand over her ass cheek. “Say yes and I’ll stop asking.”

  She put her cheek to his upper chest. “Can’t we just let this be what it is?”

  Malik frowned. Was she rejecting him? No woman had ever done such a thing before. He wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not. He did know that her answer wasn’t acceptable. “I bet Edee would tell you to move in with me.”

  Brooke laughed. “No. She’s commitment phobic. She’d run with me as quick as she could to save me from a life with just one man. That freaks her out big time. And should you somehow manage to sway her to your side, you’ll find I’m not so easy to convince. I’ll live with someone, someday, probably. If I ever get married or something like that. I never really gave it a lot of thought.”

&nb
sp; “So you’re saying you’d live with me if we were married?” he asked.

  “You are so weird.” She took a deep breath. “I’m excited to start the next chapter of my life. And while I very much want to see you again, I’m not expecting you to commit to me or have me move in with you.”

  His lion tried to push up, wanting to dominate the situation and make her understand she was his. The damn suppression drugs were making him think irrationally. What was he doing asking her to move in with him? And why the hell was he entertaining marrying her?

  She was human.

  It would never work or last.

  At some point, she’d notice he wasn’t aging.

  The idea was insane. When he opened his mouth to say as much, something altogether different came out of him. “Marry me. Move in with me. We’re meant to be together. My house has plenty of room.”

  Brooke snorted and rolled off him, going to her stomach next to him on the bed. “For a guy who claims he’s not much into hanging around for the next morning, you’re going out of your way to dispel that theory,” she said, gifting him a smile. “I should say yes and then force you to hold up your end of it all. Somehow I think you’ll run in the other direction the minute this goes from pillow talk to a reality.”

  He rolled onto his side and began to rub her back lightly. “One way to find out. Say yes.”

  She grinned more. “Okay, yes. Let’s get married and move in together. Hurry up, if we get dressed now we can try to find somewhere to marry us. Ooo, can it be on camel back?”

  “Yes,” Malik said, excitement racing through him. He made a move to get out of the bed to get dressed but she caught his wrist.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Getting ready to take you and marry you on the back of a camel,” he said, as if it was self-explanatory.

  Brooke lost it, laughing so hard that she stopped making noise.

  His ego deflated. The woman thought he was joking? He did not joke about marriage or commitment. In fact, the topics were as far from funny as one could get in his mind. The very idea of such things used to sicken him. He only slept with as many women as he did because he required it. And with Brooke, he’d only be with her. He wouldn’t need another woman.

  “If you’re not careful, you’ll find yourself claimed,” he said, before stiffening at his own words.

  A mocking laugh came from her. “Oh yeah. Shaking here. Claimed? Like baggage at an airport?”

  “Like mine for eternity,” he said, reaching down and stroking himself, the fierce need to mount her sweeping over him. He leaned and kissed her shoulder, his gums burning with the need to shift and allow his lion teeth to emerge.

  Brooke glanced down the length of him. “Do you ever get enough?”

  “Of you? No,” he said, kissing her shoulder once more. “Have you had enough of me?”

  “This is going to sound really weird, and I don’t want to freak you out or anything, but I’m not sure I could ever have enough of you,” she confessed. “Is this normal? I think we’ve already established that I don’t have anything to compare this to, but it seems intense. Really friggin’ intense.”

  It was.

  “That being said, I’m not agreeing to move in with you or marry you,” she said with a snort.

  Malik slid up and over her, the entire length of his body covering hers. He used a knee to spread her legs and Brooke lifted her backside, as if sensing what he and his animal needed. He needed to dominate. He needed to know she wasn’t really rejecting him. He needed to mount her. He needed to taste her flesh while he did.

  He kissed her back, trailing a line down it to her backside. Malik nibbled playfully at her ass cheeks, wanting to be buried between them, but he knew she wasn’t ready for that yet. He continued planting kisses down the back of her thighs, to her calves and then to her feet.

  She giggled as he kissed the bottom of her foot. “That tickles.”

  He licked it, making her jerk and laugh more. Her light energy and happiness was infectious. She made him feel young again. He nibbled his way back up her, biting her ass cheek slightly harder than before, causing her to gasp. He kissed the spot he’d bitten and then took hold of her hips, lifting her off the bed more. He went to his knees and gripped his cock, stroking it, lining up with her wet core.

  Seeing her bent before him was exactly what the lion and the man wanted. He wasted no time driving home, feeling complete once she was wrapped around his cock once more.

  He gritted his teeth, sure he’d explode if he dared to move. She had that effect on him. When he felt as if he could move, he did, easing in and out of her slowly at first before increasing his pace. He focused on her upper back, just beneath her shoulder. He felt his teeth beginning to lengthen, but he didn’t stop fucking Brooke. He couldn’t. She felt too good. The moment felt too right.

  Her tiny intakes of breath as he pounded into her only served to drive him onward in a frenzy. Brooke clutched the sheets, her body spasming around his. He thrust in, going balls deep, bending over her as he did. She cried out, coming hard, and for a split second he could have sworn he felt Fae power around them. As quickly as it had arrived, it vanished.

  “Mine,” Malik ground out.

  He opened his mouth and bit the tender flesh near her shoulder. Seed burst free from him as nothing short of what could be described as nirvana washed over him, making his lion roar with victory as his cock twitched more, pulsing more seed into her.

  The taste of her coppery blood eased over his tongue, and reason began to set in. He opened his mouth and stared at the bite mark on her flesh. Blood oozed from it and the lion in him pushed up faster, forcing him to lick the wound. He did, and the healing agents in his saliva went to work closing the bite mark over.

  Malik’s mind swam with worry as he realized he’d not only bitten her during sex. He’d done it while coming in her. As his lion continued to try to fully take over, he knew he wasn’t safe to be around.

  He’d hurt her if she remained close to him. He couldn’t have that. He couldn’t let his beast hurt the woman who stole his heart.

  Malik hurried off the bed, horrified at what he’d done. He’d bitten her during the height of passion. He’d claimed her. Thankfully, she was human, which meant the claim wouldn’t stand. It was a by-product of the suppression drugs.

  His arms heated and he felt fur starting to spring forth. He was losing control and about to shift forms fully.

  Brooke wrapped the sheet around herself and slid off the bed. “Malik? What’s wrong? You look pale. Are you okay?”

  “I can’t,” he managed, his teeth lengthening. “Get out.”

  “You’re kicking me out? You just got done trying to convince me to move in with you and consider marrying you. Now you’re throwing me out of your hotel room?” Her expression fell. “You regret this, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said, meaning that he regretted losing control. He did not regret being with her. Being with her had been the best night of his life—right up until he fucking lost his damn mind and bit her while releasing his seed in her.

  Hurt flashed in her eyes. “Oh, okay. Wow. You weren’t kidding about being gone by morning. Guess I should feel flattered you bothered to feed me the lines about wanting more. You know what, you are an asshole.”

  “No,” he said, trying to get across that he hadn’t fed her a line. He didn’t want to be away from her. He didn’t have a choice. If his lion broke free with her there, it could kill her. “Go!”

  Malik wanted to explain in detail that it wasn’t her, it was a drug meant to help give his kind more control—and failing—but he couldn’t even speak with his mouth shifting forms, let alone explain that things that went bump in the night were real and he was one of them.

  Brooke found her dress and yanked it on, leaving her ripped panties on the floor. She grabbed her boots and her bag, refusing to meet his gaze as tears streaked her cheeks. “Malik…”

  He held on by a t
hread, unable to respond to her.

  “I’m sorry that I started to believe there was more to this than just sex. I’m sorry that I already started to let my guard down with you. Mostly, I’m sorry I ever met you. I’ll go. Do me a favor and lose my number. I don’t want to ever see or speak to you again.”

  That wasn’t what he wanted in the least. Telling her wasn’t even an option. His lion was too far gone.

  She ran for the door and he fell to his knees, trying to stop a full shift from coming. As Brooke shut the door behind her, his body contorted and he lost the battle against his beast.

  The last clear thought he had before fully becoming an animal was that he’d just ruined the most perfect thing that had ever happened to him.

  Chapter Nine

  Striker McCracken strolled down the hall of the hotel, whistling a song that was an ode to the lycan legend William Wallace. So far Egypt had been a great mission. He’d wanted to get laid last night, but he’d ended up closing the bar with Edee and Boomer. He had to admit he’d had fun, even without having sex.

  That was rare.

  He was partway down the hall, nearing his room when he saw Brooke running out of Malik’s room. She slammed the door behind her and twisted, tears running down her face.

  Unsure what was going on, Striker put his arms out and caught Brooke just as she tripped. “Careful, lass.”

  She sobbed and righted herself, pushing out of his hold.

  His wolf stirred, scenting Malik all over her, in more than just a sexual way. It was almost as if Malik had marked her. But that was ridiculous. The Egyptian would never claim a human. None of the men he knew would. Hell, he didn’t even think they could claim one. From his limited understanding of mating, it was instinctual and only happened with one’s chosen mate. Not randomly. And only with another supernatural.

  Still, he could have sworn the woman was marked by his friend.

  She wiped her cheeks, dropping her boots in the process.