Page 35 of Cursed Alien

The heat between her legs was becoming unbearable. She needed something, something she couldn’t put a name to. But she needed it desperately. She shifted in his lap, feeling the hard length of him pressing against her bottom, and a bolt of desire shot through her, leaving her breathless.

He made that low, rumbling sound again, the vibration resonating deep inside her. His hands were at her waist now, fingers curling around the thin material of her dress, claws poised to tear it away. But he paused, looking up at her as though waiting for permission.

“Yes,” she said again, her voice trembling. “Yes, please.”

He needed no further encouragement. A quick twist of his powerful wrists and the dress fell away, leaving her naked in his lap. Cool air washed over her skin, tightening her nipples and making her shiver with anticipation.

He froze, his eyes locked on her exposed body. His expression was almost reverent as he drank her in, his gaze traveling from her flushed face to the tips of her toes and back again.

“Beautiful,” he growled, the word halting but deliberate. His voice was thick with emotion, and something in her chest tightened at the sound.

“Touch me,” she whispered, not sure exactly what she was asking for.

But he seemed to understand. One large hand came up to cup her breast again, and he flicked his thumb over her nipple, sending a shock of pleasure through her. Then he dipped his head and took the sensitive peak into his mouth, suckling gently.

She cried out, burying her fingers in his hair and pressing herself closer. He moved to her other breast, lavishing attention on it, teasing the nipple with his tongue until she was writhing in his lap. Her hips rocked instinctively, seeking friction to ease the ache building between her thighs. He responded by shifting his grip, one hand sliding down her belly and between her legs.

She tensed, a sudden surge of uncertainty making her hesitate. No male had ever touched her so intimately before. But the hesitation lasted only a moment. She was safe with Malrik. She knew that as surely as she knew her own name. She parted her thighs, granting him access, and he growled his approval.

He gently explored her folds, stroking and teasing until she thought she might go mad from the pleasure. He found a spot that made her gasp and cry out and focused on that, circling it with his thumb while he slipped a thick finger inside her.

It was too much, yet not enough. She clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as she rocked against his hand. The pressure was building, coiling tighter and tighter within her. His finger moved faster, his thumb pressed harder, and then she was falling, crying out his name as her body shattered in ecstasy.

As she floated down from her release, she opened her eyes to find him watching her intently, his eyes glowing in the dim light. He looked almost… awestruck. As if he’d just witnessed something miraculous and couldn’t quite believe it.

“Beautiful,” he repeated, his voice even rougher than before. “My Bella. Mine.”

Her name sounded like a prayer on his lips.

She smiled up at him, suddenly shy despite the intimacy they’d just shared. “That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I suggested reading to you.”

His answering smile transformed his face, softening the harsh lines and revealing a glimpse of the male he must have been before the curse. “Better,” he said simply.

A wave of contentment washed over her, followed by a drowsy warmth that made her eyelids heavy. She yawned, unable to help herself, and nestled closer against his chest.

“Tired,” he observed, his voice a low rumble she could feel through his ribs.

“Mmm,” she agreed, her eyes already closing. “Just need to rest a minute.”

His arms tightened around her, secure and protective. “Sleep.”

She meant to protest that they should return to their nest, but the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear was too soothing. The last thing she remembered was the sensation of being lifted, cradled against his broad chest as he carried her from the library.

CHAPTER17

Malrik paced the length of his bedchamber, his movements restless and agitated. The moonlight streaming through the windows cast long shadows across the floor, but his eyes adjusted easily to the darkness. Every few steps, he paused to glance over at Bella. The sight of her in his furs—peaceful, trusting, utterly vulnerable—filled him with a potent mixture of possessive satisfaction and gnawing guilt.

She looked so small against the vastness of his nest. Her golden curls spilled across the dark furs, and one hand was tucked beneath her cheek while the other reached toward the empty space where he should be lying. The memory of her body against his, the sweet sounds she’d made as he’d brought her pleasure, burned through him like wildfire.

His claws flexed and retracted as he walked, a physical manifestation of his internal struggle. With each passing day, more of his rational mind returned. He could feel his thoughts clarifying, memories crystallizing from the fog that had enveloped him for so long. The beast remained, prowling beneath his skin, but it no longer consumed him entirely.

And therein lay the problem.

The more his Vultor side reasserted itself, the more clearly he understood the magnitude of what he’d done. He’d taken her from her father, from her life, and kept her prisoner in his broken fortress. The fact that she seemed content, even happy, only intensified his shame. She deserved better than a half-beast who couldn’t even maintain his true form.

He ran a hand over his face, surprised to find smooth skin where fur had been. Looking down at his arms, he saw the transformation had progressed further than ever before. His form was almost entirely Vultor now—muscled and powerful, but no longer monstrous.

The beast within him growled its displeasure, fighting to resurface. It didn’t trust this change, didn’t understand why their mate should want them in this form when the beast was stronger, more capable of protecting her.

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