Page 29 of Taking Jenny (Planet Orhon #4)

Tiger

S mall fingers trailed along my hip, a soft touch that stirred me awake. Jenny still slept beside me, head crooked over the edge of her pillow, a little glistening trail of drool escaping her lips. She’d be mortified if she knew.

I smiled anyway, warmth bubbling in my chest as memories from the night before surfaced.

Surge had popped his head out of the lab to tell us we could visit her.

But Jenny, stubborn as ever, announced she just wanted her own bed.

Said it was more comfortable than Surge’s stiff exam table.

Then she’d looked up at me with those soft, pleading eyes and asked if I’d come lie with her. I didn’t stand a chance.

She held my hand the entire walk to her room.

Once there, she asked if I’d spoon her until she fell asleep.

We ended up talking for hours. She admitted she’d been angry with me for sleeping with Mal after I’d been upset at the thought of her doing the same.

I apologized for the hypocrisy. We talked about our childhoods, our homes, what little we had before meeting on Halla.

It was the second-best night of my life.

The first? That was tied. Between sleeping with her—and sleeping with Mal.

Watching her in slumber the next morning settled something inside me. Peace, maybe. Or purpose. I didn’t know. But I drifted off again beside her, feeling more at ease than I’d ever felt in my life.

I didn’t wake until she shifted, backing her soft, bare body against the front of mine.

I slid an arm around her waist, and she grabbed my hand, dragging it up to her breast. She moaned as I squeezed her gently, and then she rocked her ass back against my cock—slow, teasing.

I was already hard, but that friction made me ache for her.

“Tiger,” she whispered. “I need you.”

“Are you well enough?” My voice came out rough.

“Yes,” she hissed, rubbing against me again.

I reached between her thighs to find her already soaked. “What were you dreaming about?”

“You,” she groaned. “Me. And Mal.”

I swallowed hard. “All of us? Together like this?”

She whimpered when I found her clit. “Yes.”

“What happened in your dream?”

She reached back, fingers wrapping around my cock. “You were inside me, on top of me. You pushed deep…then held still so Mal could fuck your ass.”

The image made my whole body jerk with need.

I rolled her onto her stomach and knelt between her spread legs.

I swept my fingers over her pussy, and she squirmed.

“Is that what you want?” I teased, rubbing the head of my cock against her from behind but not entering.

“You want me inside you…while he fucks me from behind?”

“Yes!” she gasped, lifting her hips in invitation.

I slid halfway into her, groaning at the tight, wet heat surrounding my cock. She cried out into the mattress and clutched the blanket in both fists. Then she raised to her knees, presenting herself, head still down, back arched, begging for more.

Gods, I wanted to bury myself all the way inside her.

But I held her hips tight and kept my thrusts shallow. Half my length, no more. It took everything I had not to go deeper, especially when she started rocking back into me.

“Careful, Jen,” I warned, breath ragged.

“Go deeper,” she begged. “I know you can.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Make it hurt.”

Fuck. I squeezed my eyes shut, gritting my teeth as the urge to take over roared through me. I gave her another inch on the next thrust. Her moan turned sharp—half pleasure, half yelp.

I pulled back instantly. “You okay?”

“Don’t stop!”

So I didn’t. I fucked her deeper with each stroke, giving her more of me until I hit a wall inside her.

“Fuck!” she cried out. “Too deep!”

“Can’t handle it?” I teased.

“No!” she whined. “But I want it.”

“Make up your mind.” I smacked her ass, hard enough to sting.

She laughed breathlessly. “I don’t think I can.”

I yanked out of her, scooped her up, and carried her to the headboard. I positioned her on her knees, hands braced at the top of the frame. I dragged her hips back into place and growled in her ear, “Brace yourself.”

Then I drove in deep—fast and rough.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she snarled.

I pounded into her hard, one arm over her breasts, the other tangled in her hair.

Her body snapped back against mine with every thrust, her moans ragged, filthy, perfect.

I loved holding her like this—controlling the rhythm, making her take it.

Being with Jenny unleashed something primitive inside of me I had never expressed before. A will to dominate.

She cried out between curses. “Making me come—”

I already knew because I felt it. Her pussy clamped down around me, her entire body trembling. “Do it,” I growled. “Come for me.”

She screamed wordlessly, her climax wracking her violently as the early morning sunslight glowed near her hands at the top of the headboard, as if the suns wanted to hold her hands while she came.

In that moment, I imagined Mal behind me—hands on hers, holding her still while I fucked her through it.

“Fuck!” I howled and came inside her, hard and fast. My body jolted with the force of it, driving into her in uneven strokes as the orgasm ripped through me. When we collapsed, breathless and spent, I could feel my release leaking between us.

She murmured, “We made a mess.”

I looked around, too blissed-out to care. “Whoever has to clean this up…I hope Mal pays them well.”

She giggled, warm and drowsy. “Yeah. Me too.” Then she smiled at me, eyes still half-lidded. “Breakfast?”

“Oh yeah.”

We showered and changed and headed out to find the others, chasing the promise of coffee and fresh rannat buns.

But when we arrived out on the terrace, all four of them looked grim and I could feel the tension in the air.

Even Rhonda was still coiled up on Longshot’s shoulder, though that may have been Mal’s doing.

Jenny, clearly feeling the shift, too, asked, “What’s wrong now?”

The others looked at Mal and he finally said, “I’ve been called to council.”

I frowned. “Isn’t that normal for you?”

“They want me to bring a guest.”

Trying not to panic, I looked to Jenny. “It’s too soon. We’re supposed to have a couple more days before Illiapol—”

“Not Jenny.” Mal stared at me.

“Oh,” I said quietly, the knot in my stomach tightening.

“We’re due in twenty minutes,” Mal added. “Pick something to wear that’s more appropriate than those revealing lounge pants, if you don’t mind.”

I looked down at my half-buttoned shirt and loose pants. “Right. Skipping breakfast then.” I offered a weak smile. “Guess I’ll use that time to dress like someone who won’t get executed.”

“Surge,” Jenny cut in suddenly. “I want that lesson. Now.”

He blinked. “Uh…sure? Where—”

“The trail.”

Without another word, she turned and sprinted toward the forest.

Surge looked at me, back at her, then at me again. “Guess we’re training.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, be careful, Tiger. The council’s a nest of drecks.”

I nodded. “I already figured that out.”

Mal stared after Jenny’s abrupt departure, then shifted his gaze to me. “That was weird the way she took off. I would’ve thought she wasn’t mad at you anymore.”

“She’s not. Or at least, she wasn’t.” Her behavior confused me, as well. “We talked it out last night, and this morning was…very nice. Until now.”

“Focus on what’s ahead of you, Tiger,” Longshot advised. “The council is vicious.”

“Don’t worry,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’m already nervous.”

“Not nearly enough,” Discord muttered.

I raised both hands in mock surrender. “If you’ll all excuse me, I don’t need to be any more anxious than I already am. But I do need to be better dressed.”

I returned to my room and selected a navy Earth suit. Sharp lines, clean cut—intimidating enough for an inquisition, I hoped.

When I returned, Mal let out a low, appreciative whistle. “You look incredible.”

He wore black, tailored so close it hugged every angle of his body. I let my eyes rake over him. “As do you.”

He smiled faintly. “Thank you. Now, let’s get this over with.”

I had hoped the drive to the palace would give me time to think and plan. But the trip ended far too quickly. The closer we got, the heavier my gut felt.

As we walked through the palace corridors, Mal said, “The council isn’t really a council. They’re just a group of sycophants who are scared shitless of Justice.”

“Then why would anyone want to be on it?”

“Because fear is the price of power here.”

I frowned at him. “And you’re on it why?”

He didn’t answer—just gave me an infuriating wink. “Someone in my position is always on the council.”

Before I could press him, he opened a tall set of doors. “Here we are. Good luck.”

I swallowed hard and stepped inside.

The council chamber was black marble and intimidation.

A massive charcoal-gray table dominated the space.

Seven men were seated, Justice at the far head.

Two empty chairs—one at his right hand, and one at the near end—remained.

Mal slid into the seat beside Justice. That left me with the opposite end.

“Good morning, Orne,” Justice said, his voice smooth and commanding.

I inclined my head. “Good morning, Ruler.”

“Doesn’t he look well,” Justice mused, “for a man who’s been tortured by Malice?”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room.

Mal said, “Not all torture leaves bruises, Justice.”

Justice nodded slowly. “True. But you opened the door for him, which was oddly polite for you.”

Mal laughed. “Leftover manners from a civilized court upbringing.”

Justice considered him with narrowed eyes. “Indeed.” Then, he turned his attention back to me. “Tell me, Orne. Ever thought about running the Trial of Illiamor yourself?”

I blinked, surprised by the odd question. “That would be difficult, seeing as I’m not a woman.”

“Of course, but hypothetically speaking.”

“I haven’t given it much thought at all, Ruler.”