Page 34 of Cursed Alien
He hesitated, then came to join her, moving with that fluid, predatory grace that still made her breath catch. He eyed the chair dubiously.
“Sit,” she instructed, patting the seat.
With obvious reluctance, he lowered himself into the chair, his big body filling most of the available space. Before she could decide where to position herself, he reached out and pulled her onto his lap.
“Oh!” The book nearly slipped from her fingers as she found herself settled firmly against him, her side pressed to his chest, his arm a secure band around her.
He made a sound that was half-growl, half-purr. “Better.”
The warmth of his body enveloped her, and she couldn’t disagree. She wiggled slightly to get comfortable, then opened the book, holding it where the lantern light fell across the pages. “These are stories from when humans first came to Cresca,” she explained. “Before the tensions with the Vultor, when everything was new and strange.”
She began to read, her voice soft in the quiet library. The first tale was about a young woman who’d followed mysterious lights into the forest and found herself in a hidden grove where the trees sang. She slipped into the rhythm of the story, her voice rising and falling with the narrative.
As she read, Malrik gradually relaxed beneath her. His breathing deepened, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm against her back. Occasionally, when the story mentioned something familiar to him, he would make a small sound of recognition or his fingers would tighten slightly where they rested against her.
She finished the first story and moved to the second, about a settler who befriended a mountain creature that guarded a pass through the peaks. The parallels to her own situation weren’t lost on her, and she wondered if Malrik noticed them too.
His arms had shifted as she read, holding her more securely. One large hand now rested on her hip, thumb occasionally stroking small circles through the fabric of her makeshift dress. The casual intimacy of it sent pleasant shivers through her.
When she finished the chapter, she marked their place and closed the book. “That’s enough for tonight, I think. My voice is getting tired.”
She turned slightly to look up at him and found his gaze fixed on her face. Her breath caught. She’d seen this look before, felt the pull of it, but never quite so intensely. In the quiet intimacy of the library, with his arms around her and his warmth seeping into her bones, it felt different. Significant. His eyes glowed in the dim light of the lantern, pupils dilated until only a thin ring of yellow remained.
She knew that look by now—hunger, need, desire barely contained. It sent a thrill through her, knowing she could affect this powerful creature so deeply with just her presence, her voice. The beast was there, watching her through those eyes, but so was the male.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Without conscious thought, she reached up and traced the curve of his lower lip with her thumb. His breath hitched, a small sound escaping him that was neither human nor beast.
Time seemed to stop as they stared at each other.
“Malrik,” she whispered, not sure what she meant to say.
He didn’t respond with words. His hand came up to cup her cheek, fingers surprisingly gentle for their size. He mimicked her gesture, his thumb brushing across her lower lip, the touch feather-light but electric.
She hesitated only a moment before leaning up to press her lips to his.
The kiss started softly, a tentative exploration, but then his arms tightened around her, drawing her closer as the kiss deepened. She felt the careful scrape of his fangs against her lip, followed by the soothing stroke of his tongue. Heat pooled low in her belly, and she twisted in his lap to face him more fully, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair.
He growled, the sound vibrating through his chest and into hers. His hand slid up her back to cradle her head, supporting her as he took control of the kiss. It was rougher now, wilder, his fangs and tongue teasing her with a promise of something darker, more primal.
She lost herself in the sensation, in the taste and feel of him. His scent surrounded her—wild and masculine and intoxicating. She wanted more. Needed more.
Her fingers found the opening of his vest, brushing over the exposed skin of his chest before sliding up to his shoulders. She could feel the powerful muscles flexing as he held her close. His skin was hot, almost scorching to the touch. The heat seemed to flow from him to her, igniting a fire in her core that spread through her limbs.
She moaned against his lips, her fingers tightening on his shoulders. Some distant part of her mind marveled at how his form seemed to shift beneath her touch—sometimes fur, sometimes smooth skin, as though his body couldn’t decide which shape to hold.
But it didn’t matter. This was Malrik—her protector, her companion, her… She couldn’t complete the thought, overwhelmed by sensation as his mouth left hers to trail hot kisses down her neck.
His teeth grazed the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, and she gasped, arching against him. The sound that rumbled from his chest was pure beast—possessive and primal.
“Mine,” he growled against her skin.
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible even to her own ears. “Yours.”
His hands roamed her body, leaving trails of heat wherever they touched. When a big hand closed over her breast she gave a startled cry and he raised his head to look at her, his face etched in harsh lines.
“Touch?”
“Yes,” she whispered again, and his claws sliced through the thin fabric of her makeshift gown before his hand returned to her breast. His touch was gentle despite his strength, and she arched into him, seeking more. He teased her nipples with the rough pads of his fingers, sending jolts of pleasure through her.
