Page 43 of Tempted By the Alien Warrior

Vrok doesn’t move, but something in him shifts. I feel it in the way his fingers slowly loosen around mine, in the way his shoulders relax just a fraction. The fight in him eases, like maybe, for the first time, he doesn’t feel the need to brace for impact.

Finally, he asks, “Do you really believe that?”

“I do,” I say without hesitation. “And I think you need to stop punishing yourself for something that was never your fault. Yeah, you made a mistake, but it doesn’t have to define you. What matters is what you donow.”

He doesn’t speak, but I can feel the war inside him. The guilt trying to hold on, and the truth starting to sink in, just a little.

“That voice in your head that tells you you’re not enough? That you’ll never be anything but a burden or a failure?” I swallow hard. “That’s not your voice. It’s his. And you don’t have to keep listening to it.”

His jaw tightens, and his hand twitches in mine. I almost expect him to pull it from my grasp, but he doesn’t.

“And love…” I add in a whisper, “real love doesn’t come with a price tag.”

The words settle between us, and that’s when I realize just how close we are. We started out sitting a couple of feet apart, but somewhere along the way, we leaned in, drawn together like gravity’s been quietly working on us this whole time.

Now, our bodies are nearly touching.

His hand is still in mine, warm and solid, but the air around us feels anything but. It’s thick with a different kind of tension. My heart is pounding like it’s trying to break free from my chest and lodge itself in his. His hand tightens around mine, and when I look up into his eyes, his gaze is locked on my lips.

The golden flecks are back, and they flicker and expand, making his silver eyes look like firelight.

“Emily…” he says my name like it’s a question. His voice is rough and low, and it sends a shiver down my spine that heads south and settles right between my thighs.

I don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, the space between us is gone. His lips brush against mine, tentative at first, like he’s afraid I’ll pull away. But when I don’t, the kiss deepens, and his hand comes up to cradle the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair.

Heat blooms low in my belly and flares outward like someone lit a match and dropped it straight into my bloodstream. I kiss him back like I’ve been starving for it, and in that moment, nothing else exists. Not the cave, not the storm, not the ghosts of everything we’ve both survived. Just his mouth on mine and the fire crawling through my veins like it’s always belonged there.

His hand slides deeper into my hair, holding me steady, while my fingers grip his shoulders like I might fall apart if I let go. Desperate for more, I part my lips and let my tongue glide along the seam of his mouth, testing. Asking for permission.

He groans, low and rough, and the sound rumbles through me, sending a tingle shooting straight to my core as he opens for me.

His tongue brushes against mine, and I gasp. It’s longer than mine, more agile, and covered in small nubs that send little jolts of electricity dancing across every nerve ending I’ve got. My hips shift without thinking, aching for contact, for friction, for him.My clit throbs with every pass of that tongue as I imagine what it would feel like elsewhere.Fuck.

I moan into the kiss, helpless against the onslaught of sensation. His grip tightens, holding me like I might slip through his fingers if he lets up. Like he needs this kiss just as bad as I do.

And maybe he does. Maybe we’re both a little broken, a little lost, and somehow this kiss feels like a safe haven in the middle of a hurricane.

Then, like the universe just can’t help itself, because of course it can’t, a guttural roar rips through the jungle outside. It doesn’t sound like it’s close, but it’s loud enough to snap us both out of the fog of lust.

We pull apart, breathless and flushed, and he rests his forehead against mine. My lips feel swollen and my body is humming with arousal as if I’m lit up from the inside with heat and need.

“Sounds like a magnis,” he mutters in a rough, scratchy voice.

I swallow hard, still trying to reboot my brain. “Well,” I breathe, “it has the worst damn timing.”

Vrok snorts. The sound is sharp and quiet, like it escaped before he could stop it. It’s not a laugh, not really, but it’s the closest I’ve heard from him. The corners of his mouth don’t lift in a smile, but there’s something new in his eyes, and it looks an awful lot like amusement. I can feel my own lips tilting up in a grin.

It wouldn’t be much to most people, but to me? It’s everything. A sign that I’m finally getting past the walls he hides behind.

We sit there in the stillness, not speaking but not needing to. The space between us hums, full of whatever this new thing is. It’s warmer, softer even, like maybe the worst parts of us aren’t calling all the shots anymore.

Then, in a low voice, he says, “I don’t know what I’m doing with you.”

I blink, unsure what he means.

He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. “I was raised to think strength meant control. Never feeling emotions. Never showing them.” His jaw tightens. “But you make me feel things I don’t know what to do with.”

That, I understand. Isn’t that what my father wanted, too? A little robot who always anticipated his ever-changing standards and always met them. Who never laughed. Never cried. Never messed up. Who never reallylived.

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