Page 24 of Xara and the Xenobeast

He nodded, the movement jerky, uncoordinated. His control was slipping, desire clouding his thoughts, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Not when she looked at him like that. Not when her touch felt like salvation.

She smiled again, that same warm, knowing smile that made his chest ache with unfamiliar emotions. Then, with deliberate slowness, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss was gentle, questioning, her lips soft against his, the contrast between them heightening the sensation.

For a moment, he remained frozen, overwhelmed by the intimacy of the act, but then instinct took over, and he responded, kissing her with all the pent-up longing and confusion and need of a lifetime spent alone.

His claws threaded into her hair, holding her steady as he deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth. She tasted like the sweetness of fruit and the intoxication of the sun-warmed vines, and it only fueled his hunger.

The tip of his tongue traced her lower lip, and she parted for him with a soft moan. One of his tendrils circled her neck, bringing her closer, and her hands slipped from his neck to clutch at his shoulders. Another drifted down her body, finding the softness of her breast as his hand followed the gentle curve of her hip, his claws tracing lightly over her thigh, and she arched into his touch. He ached to possess her, his cock throbbing with a need that terrified him.

He broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to search her face. To make sure she understood what she was doing, and who she was doing it with. What he saw in her eyes wasn’t fear or hesitation—it was want. Clear, unmistakable desire—for him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “You’re worried about hurting me.”

He nodded, relief flooding through him that she understood without words.

“You won’t.” Her confidence was absolute. “I trust you.”

Trust. Another gift he’d never been given. Never earned.

He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the weight of that responsibility and by the fierce, protective surge that accompanied it. When he opened them again, she was watching him with a patience he didn’t deserve. She was waiting for him to decide. To choose.

He made his choice by drawing her closer, his mouth finding hers again with new purpose. This time, the kiss was deeper, hungrier, but still measured. Still controlled.

She responded with equal fervor, her body arching against his, her hands exploring the contours of his shoulders, his chest. Each touch was a revelation, a reminder that he was more than the sum of his scars and modifications.

One of the pups stirred nearby, letting out a sleepy chirp before settling back into slumber. The sound was enough to remind him of his responsibilities and he pulled back, his breathing ragged, his control hanging by a thread. He searched her face again, needing to be certain.

She smiled up at him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright with desire and something softer, something that made his chest ache.

“It’s all right,” she whispered, understanding in her voice. “We have time.”

The reassurance settled something inside him. She wasn’t afraid, and she wasn’t leaving. Whatever this was between them, it was more than just physical need or momentary comfort. It was something he’d never dared to imagine for himself. Something he’d been certain was beyond his reach.

She settled back against him, her head tucked beneath his chin, her body relaxed in his arms. One of her hands found his, fingers interlacing with his clawed ones without hesitation.

“Try to sleep,” she murmured sleepily. “I’ll keep the bad dreams away.”

He didn’t believe that was possible, not with the weight of his past and the blood on his hands. But as her breathing evened out, her body warm and trusting against his, he found himself willing to believe that perhaps, with her, he could be something more than just a weapon.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Xara woke to a gentle pressure against the back of her neck. One of the pups had nestled into her hair, tiny paws kneading at her scalp like a contented cat. The other two were curled against her stomach, their fur warm and silky against her skin.

Her silent companion was gone again—hunting, probably. He never seemed to sleep more than a few hours, always alert, always watchful. After their shared moment in the night, she’d expected... well, she wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but waking alone wasn’t it.

She sighed and stretched carefully, mindful of the sleeping pups. Her leg still ached, but it felt even better today. The moss poultice he’d applied must have some remarkable antibacterial properties—something she’d love to study under proper lab conditions.

The thought made her chest tighten. Her lab. Her students. Her life. All of it seemed impossibly distant now, like a half-remembered dream.

Dot blinked awake and chirped at her.

“Good morning to you too,” she murmured, stroking her head.

She’d started thinking of Dot as female, though she had no idea if the pups even had conventional genders. Dot was certainly the most delicate of the three, with a curious, gentle nature that contrasted with her siblings’ more boisterous personalities.

She sat up, the movement dislodging the pup in her hair, who tumbled down with an indignant squeak. She caught it before it hit the bed, and stroked its feathery tendrils apologetically.

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