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“Malix,” I say. “I’m worried you’re having a panic attack. Are you okay?”
He raises his eyes to mine, his irises flashing labradorite in pulls of ink. “I’m sick, Frankie,” he says, his voice low and throaty.
I furrow my brow. “I’m sure we could find a doctor if you’re worried,” I say. “Here—let me call someone—”
I reach for the comm panel beside the door, but Malix’s hand shoots out quick as a whip to grasp my wrist. There’s that sensation again, making my nipples harden, and heat pool in my groin. I squeeze my thighs together, locking eyes with Malix.
He looks down at me, suddenly huge as he stands up straight and takes a step closer.
“Not like that,” he says. “I’m burning alive, Frankie. Feverish with need…for you.”
I stare up at him, my lips parting. His eyes fall from my gaze to my mouth, tracing where my tongue flits out to wet my lips.
I’m nervous.
Excited.
This isbad timing.
“Malix,” I say. “You’re…you’re in a vulnerable place and I don’t want to use you.”
“Use me?” He barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “Frankie, I would let you use me whatever way you like.”
My mouth goes dry, my throat suddenly parched. I take a sharp breath and let him draw me in closer, then his other hand comes up to tangle in my hair.
He doesn’t kiss me; he doesn’t have to, the pleasure is already so intense. His fingers on my scalp send a full-body chill through me, every hair standing on end. When he hooks his fingers and tilts my head to the side, my pussy clenches almost painfully.
“Frankie…” he says. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew…”
“Knew what?”
“I knew I had to touch you,” he says. “But I don’t…I don’t even know where to start.”
Fuck, this is weird. The Lyra don’t typically have sex on their planet; most babies are born from test tubes, and sex was outlawed for a long time because it could result in the birth of ‘undesirable offspring.’ Not only am I dealing with a virgin, but with someone who might not have ever even seen sex before.
“Well,” I say. “It typically starts with a kiss.”
I stand on my tiptoes, getting closer. Malix watches me with interest, turning his head when I get close, and then…
I kiss him.
Gently, searching, asking for permission.
His lips are warm and soft, but he doesn’t move. I move for him, taking another step closer, feeling how his grip loosens on my hair.
A low rumble emits from his chest—his drone, I think, though I’ve never heard it except in the undertones of Lyran speech. It seems to rattle right through me, resonating until it rests between my thighs.
My core clenches, my hand falling to Malix’s chest.
“Please,” I whisper against his mouth.
In response, he finally kisses me back.
He pulls me in roughly, his mouth opening and his tongue sliding against my lips. I open for him and he seems to suck all the breath out of me as his long, alien tongue sweeps inside and thrusts toward my throat. I sigh when he gathers me up in his arms and twists his hand in my hair again, his cock jutting against my stomach. Heat races along my skin, making my hair stand on end as desire pools in the pit of my stomach.
We pause, Malix breathing hard against my forehead. I’m just as winded—like I’ve been running a marathon, even though we’ve only kissed for a split second.
“I need you,” he breathes, his voice low and raspy, his subharmonics a deep drone beneath.
