Page 47 of The Moon’s Fury (Moon & Sands #2)

S oraya’s dark eyes widened in understanding, and his tense shoulders relaxed a fraction.

Perhaps she wouldn’t hate him after this was over.

He just hoped the leader of the Senta Gundaari didn’t look too closely at two lovers sharing a private, heated moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, pressing his face into her neck, turning away from the mouth of the alley. Soraya swallowed, and he felt her throat bob against his lips.

Jamil couldn’t think.

Her soft curves fit perfectly against the planes of his body, and he found himself pressing harder against her.

He dragged his nose up the column of her neck, skimming her cheek, bringing it to rest on her temple.

Fuck, she smelled incredible .

Her hand traveled up the length of his back and tangled in his hair, while the other fisted the fabric of his tunic. She was panting, and the rise and fall of her chest against his was maddening. He buried his face in her neck again, savoring her earthy scent.

If he were a better man, he would have stayed still.

He would have listened and waited for the Gundaari to pass, then released her.

But he wasn’t a better man, and so, he found himself pressing his lips to her neck in a soft kiss.

She whimpered, and the soft sound nearly brought him to his knees. He did it again, harder this time. Her fingers tightened in his hair, but she didn’t yank him back. He feathered kisses up her throat, then against her chin and jaw, before resting his forehead against hers.

Her eyes were screwed shut, a pained expression on her face.

Twin waves of guilt and self-loathing crashed over him. He was the worst kind of man, taking advantage of her like this. He was about to apologize again when her eyes snapped open, pupils blown wide.

And then she grabbed his face and kissed him.

He was frozen in shock for a heartbeat as her lips moved over his, but quickly regained his senses and kissed her back with equal passion. Her mouth moved frantically, her desperation matching his own. She pulled him closer, pressing her soft curves harder against him.

A deep, throaty rumble escaped him, vibrating through his chest. Without breaking their kiss, he grabbed the backs of her thighs, hoisting her against the wall until she wrapped both legs around him.

He had been drowning, and her kiss was the air he desperately needed. Her arms wound around his neck, holding on tightly, as if, maybe, she needed him, too.

A loud catcall sounded at the mouth of the alley, and they startled apart, panting heavily. Soraya’s eyes were glazed, and her lips were swollen from his kisses.

She blinked, the fog of lust quickly replaced by horror.

Guilt.

Regret.

It wrapped its cold, rough fingers around his heart and squeezed .

“I—I didn’t … do you think they’re gone?” she asked his shoulder, brown eyes avoiding his gaze.

“I think so,” he breathed. He gently lowered her to the ground. She straightened her rumpled clothes, still without a single glance in his direction. He gathered their bags and poked his head out of the alley.

The men were long gone.

They left the alley, Soraya walking briskly ahead of him, as if she wanted to put as much distance between them as possible.

Did she hate him? Would she ever speak to him again?

Had she been thinking of Almeer?

Bile rose in his throat.

She hastened her pace even more, and he sighed. She wanted to be nowhere near him.

They walked through the streets toward the inn, her rushing ahead, him trailing behind. The men were still toiling away at the burned building, but the crowd had dispersed. His gaze was fixed on Soraya’s back, her muscles stiff with tension.

The workers on the roof grew louder.

There was a snap, then a yell.

Jamil’s gaze darted toward the sky.

His eyes widened, and panic seized his heart.

“ SORAYA !”