Thankfully, Cadmi didn’t come after her, because as she turned down the corridor to her room, she noticed guards lining the corridor all the way up to the door of her chambers. Guards she recognized.
Taking a deep breath, she stormed past the guards. Inside her chambers she found Malich going through her things while Dax stood watch. Angry, Arya clenched her teeth and balled her fists.
Without turning to face her, Malich ordered Dax to leave the room. He waited until they were alone before turning to face her. Arya promptly closed the space between them and decked him as hard as she could. It. Didn’t. Even. Faze. Him. “Hello to you too,” Malich adjusted his jaw and pinned her with a stare.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me? First you hold me back practically ensuring that I’ll fail, and then that kiss…what was that kiss? Was it your attempt to torment me…to confuseme?”
He didn’t utter a word. Instead, he watched her panic and waited until she calmed down before pressing his lips against hers. An explosion went off in her head.
He swept his tongue over hers, taking in her bottom lip, and reigniting the fire it had taken her at least a turn to put out. She ached for more. Gripping his hair in her fingers, she pulled and he groaned against her lips.
Arya felt herself falling hard and fast into the pleasure of his kiss. Malich exuded power, control, and the ferocity she’d only seen once…in Ihsan.
She pushes him away, her hand pressed flat against his chest, holding him an arms length away. What was she thinking?This cannotbe. If Ihsan could see her now he’d be turning over in his grave. Conflicted, she eyed Malich incredulously, wondering how in Anan’s name he’d managed to set her nerve endings on fire while she’d cursed his name and the moon he was born at the same time.
“I’m in no mood to be teased,” Malich’s chest heaves up and down, matching her own.
“Forgive me I…I…” Arya turns her back to him, clenches her eyes shut and sighs. “Do you know what it’s like to love and hate someone at the same time?”
Ignoring her, he presses his weight against her back. Arya counters by whirling around to face him again, bringing her stiletto to his throat. But she won’t hurt him and he knows it. The last time she pulled a weapon on him she lost her edge. He didn’t fear her and this time is no different. Malich continues his pursuit, forcing her to backpedal until her back is against the wall.
“Malich,” she warns. Again he ignores her plea and places his hand over hers, removing the stiletto from her grasp. Wrapping his hand gently around her wrist, he removes her hand from his chest and presses forward. His body is pressed against hers and his sexual presence is suffocating.
He crushes his mouth to hers again, drowning her protests in the process. The harder she tries to fight, the more determined he becomes. He’s used to getting what he wants.
To her surprise, Malich is the one who pulls away giving her room to breathe. “I want you,” he whispers in her ear, eyes lingering shut. She can feel his hardened organ pressed against her and it takes every ounce of willpower she has left not to give in to him.
“Mekhi knows you care for me and Cadmi suspects.”
Malich shrugs, “Cadmi works for me and Mekhi…he may not be fond of the idea, but he’ll get over it…concede.”
His tone is urgent, commanding and lustful. She damn near buckles, but she knows Malich. He doesn’t respect anything that comes easy. As much as she cares for him, it’s what being with him would mean that gives her pause. “I’m an assassin and you’re the Majii of the Redlands,” her eyes meet his, “don’t you think it would be a conflict of interest? Everyone already looks at me differently because of you…because of how you feel about me.”
“And what about my dreams and goals?” She asks. “I want to be an alumni assassin.”
“And I won’t stand in your way,” his lips graze the nape of her neck.
He’s done nothing butstand in her way lately. Why would he change now?“And what if I’m dispatched to seduce a senator or a senator’s son? What if I have to take them to bed? Will you stand down then?” She asked, searching his eyes. The probability of that happening was improbable, but if it were to happen, she doubted he’d stand for it.
And there it was…the hesitation in reply and the flaring of his temples. He wouldn’t. He’d kill anyone and everyone who got within a foot of her, which is the complete opposite of notgetting in her way.
“I’m a gent Arya. It’s in my nature to be territorial.”
“Which is precisely why this won’t work.”
“It would if you gave it all up. Rule at my side, not within my employ. Bear my children and my name and you will never have to answer to anyone ever again.”
“Except you,” she pointed out.
“Well of course. Would you rather it be someone else?”
It was a trick question. Arya knew better than to answer him. Truthfully, she didn’t want to answer to anyone. Not even a mate. “I’d rather not have to answer to anyone.”
Malich scoffs, “Everyone answers to someone.”
Amused Arya drawls in a mocking tone, “Really?Tell me then Malich…Majii…most powerful man in the Redlands, who do youanswer to?”
His lips curling into a wolfs grin, eyes fixed upon her bottom lip, he replies, “Well, at the moment it appears to be a girl of seventeen cycles.”
Power. For the first time Arya felt powerful. She realized in that moment what being with someone like Malich would afford her. It’s the one thing she’s never had and craves most of all…power. The devastatingly handsome man grazing her lips with his own, one hand clenched around her neck because it made him feel powerful, had power by the boatload and being with him would give her access to an unlimited supply of it. This is what Cadmi meant during her lesson when she spoke of feminine power. Malich would lay all of that power at her feet if she’d simply concede and live in submission to him. There was only one problem…Arya didn’t have a submissive bone in her body.
“I’m not the type one keeps, and we both know I’m incapable of being submissive.”
Malich ponders her words before replying, “I’m not asking you to submit…concede,” he pushes into her, gifting her the full girth of his organ.
She gasps and desire flashes in her eyes. Malich takes the site of her in like a lion examining its prey before drinking from her lips again, a mischievous smile on his face. “If you think like a slave, you will always be one. Think like a queen…and you’ll acquire a crown,” he speaks between breaths.
Using his body weight, he presses her into the wall behind her. There isn’t enough space between them. His close proximity is slowly eating away at her resolve. “What if I don’t want a crown?”
“You want something and so do I, so lets make a compromise. I’ll ensure you graduate top of your class guaranteeing your position as an alumni assassin…”
“In exchange for what?” Arya cuts straight to the point. Malich drinks from her lips as his hand smoothes over her breast then down over her abdomen before coming to a stop between her legs.
“You,” he whispers against her lips, “well, parts of you…concede for Anan’s sake…put us both out of our misery.”
Arya recalls her conversation with Cadmi, ‘Perhaps a little experience might do you some good’…‘take a lover’, she encouraged. Not entirely sure what she wanted, but knowing this would kill two birds with one stone, she dove in headfirst and allowed the chips to fall where they may.
Cycles of stifled hormones and a multitude of sexual tension between them finally came to a head. As his lips left a trail of kisses across the nape of her neck, Arya uttered the words he’s been dying to hear. “I concede.”
Unable to contain his eagerness to be inside her, he cut the clothes from her body with her own stiletto. She gripped his black leather tunic in her hands, having every intention to rip it from his body when he stopped her. “I have to be able to walk out of here with dignity,” he whispered against her lips.
Arya nodded and waited for him to undress himself. Lying down on her bed she took in the sight of him in, wondering if she was doing the right thing. He drops his pants and she quickly sits up. Anan help her, his endowment was more than impressive.
Malich climbs on top, entangling his limbs with hers. He crushed his mouth to hers, his tongue thrashing wildly as his need to have her increased. She’d dreamt about this once, but it was Ihsan lying atop of her, not Malich. “Will it hurt?” She asks, suddenly afraid.
“A little…at first,” he nods.
When Arya thought of what her first time would be like, she never imagined she’d be this nervous, or that it would hurt as much before experiencing so much pleasure. It practically exploded from her, her entire body seizing and convulsing, squeezing every ounce of pleasure from her before she went rigid. She had no idea what that was…only that she wanted to do it again. Exhausted, she fell asleep in Malich’s arms.ns 126.96.36.199da2