Chapter 34
Wrexxon
The doors slid shut behind the departing warriors and the little green alien, leaving us alone in the sudden quiet of my quarters.
I was still reeling from the way she'd melted into me when I’d kissed her, from the soft sound she'd made when I'd deepened it, and from the knowledge that she was mine now in every way.
The ceremony might have been rushed, but that didn't make the bond less real.
Not on my part. As a Vandar, I never made a vow I didn't mean, and I had just vowed to take Jasmine for life. I’d sworn before the gods of old to entwine my life with hers until death called us both, and I had meant every word.
I swept her into my arms before she could overthink, before doubt could creep in and ruin what we'd just promised each other. She gasped, her hands instinctively gripping my shoulders for balance as I carried her to the bed and laid her across the furs.
I leaned over her, bracing my weight on my arms, caging her in without crushing her.
Her breath became quick and shallow, her eyes wide as she looked up at me.
I brushed a strand of dark hair from her face, letting my fingers linger against her cheek.
It had been so easy earlier when desire had fused with our anger and burned hot between us.
Now there was no rage, but that didn’t mean there was no heat.
It would just require more stoking, a task I would gladly take upon myself.
I captured her mouth in a kiss, slower than before but just as claiming.
She responded immediately, her lips parting under mine, and her hands sliding from my shoulders to tangle in my hair.
Moving from her mouth, I trailed kisses along her jawline to her neck as I murmured how beautiful she was.
“You bewitched me from the moment I saw you in that bakery, covered in flour.
You looked at me like you wanted to throw me out. "
She husked a laugh. "I did want to throw you out."
I kissed the hollow of her throat, feeling her pulse race against my lips. "It was intoxicating. No one looks at the Qeth’rex that way. Everyone else looks at me with fear in their eyes, like I’m a threat.”
"You are a threat," she whispered as I kissed lower, along her collarbone. "Just not the kind I expected."
My hand traced the curve of her waist through the gossamer fabric, feeling the heat of her skin beneath. "What kind of threat am I?"
"The kind that made me forget why I should resist you.” Her fingers tightened in my hair as I kissed the exposed skin above her neckline. "The kind that makes me want things I swore I'd never want."
"Like what?" I looked up at her, holding her gaze as my hand continued its exploration, mapping the dip of her waist and the flare of her hip. "Tell me what you want, Jasmine."
She bit her lip, clearly fighting some internal battle. "I want—" She broke off, her breath hitching as I pressed a kiss just above her heart. "I want to understand why this feels right when it should feel wrong."
"Because we're the same," I said, continuing my trail of kisses while my hand traced gentle patterns against her side.
"Both of us are fighting forces too big to defeat alone.
Both protecting people we love at the cost of ourselves.
Both pretending to be harder than we are because it's safer than being soft. "
"You think I'm soft?" Her voice held a note of challenge even as her body arched into my touch.
"I think you're soft where it matters." I kissed her again, deeper now, pouring everything I couldn't say into the press of my mouth against hers.
She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching mine. "And what are you? Beneath all the scars and the reputation and the fear you inspire?"
The question caught me off guard, and it made me hesitate in ways I rarely did.
"Tired," I admitted finally, the truth pulled from somewhere deep I'd thought I'd locked away forever. “Tired of pretending the only thing I feel is rage."
Her expression softened, her hand coming up to cup my face with surprising tenderness. "Then maybe we can both stop pretending, at least with each other."
I silenced her with another kiss, this one less controlled, more demanding.
Showing her with my mouth and my hands and my barely restrained hunger exactly how real this was.
How much I wanted her, needed her, and was willing to risk everything for her.
When I pulled back, we were both breathing hard.
"Real enough for you?" I asked, my voice rough with desire I was fighting to control.
She nodded mutely, her pupils blown wide, and her lips swollen from my kisses.
"Let me show you that being mine doesn't mean being owned,” I rasped. “It means being worshiped.”
"Wrexxon—" My name on her lips was half prayer, half plea.
"Tell me to stop and I will," I promised, my hands gentle even as desire threatened to overwhelm control.
Her hand slid from my face to my shoulder, her grip tightening as she pulled me closer instead of pushing me away.
Her legs shifted restlessly, her body answering what her voice couldn't quite say.
Her hands were in my hair, on my shoulders, gripping me like she was afraid I'd disappear.
Her body arched into mine, every curve fitting against me like she'd been made for this, for me.
“Give yourself to me,” I growled against her lips. "Let me mark you and claim you and show you exactly what it means to be a Vandar Raisa. My Raisa."
"Yes," she whispered, and that one word shattered the last of my control.
I tore at her dress, breathless and desperate to make her mine in every way.
"Don't stop," she breathed, her legs curling around my waist, pulling me closer. "Please, Wrexxon. Don't stop."
I might not be the hero she’d envisioned for herself, but I would happily be the villain who took her, anyway.