"Damnit, Mal! I'm so sick of this!" Inara was seconds away from throwing things at Mal. The only thing that stopped her this far was that she didn't really have anything harder than a pillow.

"Sick of what?" Mal stood at the foot of her bed, pulling on his dark brown slacks, his chest completely bare, making it rather difficult for Inara to concentrate.

"This! You come in here under the guise of wanting to actually be with me, but instead you just have your way with me, pass out for a few hours then leave before anyone else wakes up!" Inara herself was wearing only a sheer red robe, her rosy nipples and dark pubic hair shadowed from under the whisper of fabric.

They had been dancing these complicated steps for over a month now, and Inara was getting frustrated. She wanted him to stay in the shuttle with her and come out at breakfast with her without feeling that he needed to hide their tentative relationship. She looked up at him with an icy stare.

"Just tell me what you want for once, Mal."

Mal walked over to where she stood at the side of her lavish bed. His fingers brushed her sex tousled hair from her face.

"I want you, Inara. Don't know how much plainer I gotta be." His hands went to the fabric at her shoulders and slid it off, letting it fall away to reveal her breasts, the nipples hard and skin flush, more from arousal than anger. Although, he noted almost smugly that anger for them was the best aphrodisiac. "Always want ya, Ai ren. Need ya every second."

Inara couldn't stop the shiver that ran through her body as Mal's fingertips gently ghosted across the swell of her breasts. Her own hands reached instinctively for his hardened chest, her fingers seeking out the prominent scar over his right pectoral.

It wasn't that Mal was trying to lead Inara on. He just wasn't ready yet to share her with the rest of the crew. Not that they didn't know of course, but that didn't mean he couldn't pretend it was a secret. As his lips grazed the delicate curve of Inara's neck, he cur