Page 45 of Fated for the Alien Fighter

Her brain had short circuited there for a second, and Leah couldn’t blame it.

“Getting ready for sleep,” Taryn muttered lovingly against her hair. “If that is alright with you.”

Of course Leah wanted to sleep next to him. It was a need she hadn’t even known she had until meeting him. Now, with her in his arms, every worry she had seemed smaller, and she felt bigger.

However, she wasn’t selfish. “What about you?”

One mind-melting orgasm was great. Even better? Two. And he hadn’t had any, as far as she could tell.

Judging from his groans from only a few minutes before, Leah doubted Taryn would be the silent sort when he came undone.

“I’m satisfied right here, with you,” he said. “There is always time for more. Later.”

It warmed Leah’s heart, it did. But now that the adrenaline and lust were slowly seeping out of her body, the worries were crawling back in. This moment with Taryn was…everything. He’d made her feel alive like she never had before, and probably never would.

Which only made things worse.

How could she betray him now?

16

LEAH

The next morning passed by in a blur of soft smiles and languid kisses, interrupted only by Leah’s growling stomach.

Very romantic and sexy, of course, but her human body hadn’t tasted delicious, decadent food like this in years. It snapped her out of the dream she was trying so hard to believe in. That she and Taryn were only Lightmates who had found each other. No ulterior motives.

She’d tried so hard, she’d completely forgotten she wasn’t wearing anything–until she got up, the sheet slipped away from her body, and Taryn’s pupils rounded again.

“It appears I am totally naked,” she said, grasping the sheet back up.

“Gloriously naked.” He sighed as she disappeared inside the bathroom.

Once that door slid shut behind her, Leah covered her face with her palms, drowning her groan of frustration.

Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t she just live and enjoy and forget about everything else?

Looking into the mirror didn’t help, either. Her hair was a mess, her lips were red and swollen, and—oh, wow—she had the absolute faintest lines left behind by Taryn’s fangs at the junction of her neck and shoulder.

A weird, primal part of her was actually disappointed. She’d wanted more. Wanted to feel those two long, glorious fangs sinking into her.

She shook her head. None of that. It was a moment she would cherish for the rest of her days, but it couldn’t happen again.

Her traitorous heart was already having a hard time differentiating between the right and wrong thing. She didn’t need to complicate her life further.

She took the quickest bath of her life—regretfully, because that bathtub was insanely comfy and inviting—and managed to tame her hair as best she could.

Anyone could tell she’d still had a great time, though. Could other Quillons, with their amazing senses, be able to smell Taryn on her?

The storm had passed, anyway. Or at least that’s how it looked from the window embedded in the ceiling. No rain, no menacing clouds, only a clear, orange sky.

Taryn awaited next to the front door, once again dressed in his luxurious tunic, his pendant necklace hanging above it today. Lord, he was so handsome.

“Are you ready?” he asked with one last glance to the massive bed they had formed and disheveled last night.

“About as ready as I can be.” Which was not at all. She couldn’t even bring herself to call Nana when she felt like she’d somehow betrayed the mission to save her. It was illogical, of course, but the idea still ate at her, along with the notion that Flint would be tracking her down at one point. That had been the deal. “How far away is your estate?”

“Not too far, but since you seemed to like Kustume while it was empty, I thought you would enjoy it even more while it was teeming with life,” he said. “I believe the human expression involves taking a tour?”

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