“I was trying to muster every bit of discipline I possess to keep my vines from having their way with you. When youtouched me, it nearly destroyed my concentration. I was almost unable to prevent them from seeking out and entering every one of your holes to gorge on your taste.”
I pulled my head back in shock and wiped my eyes to better see his serious teal ones.
“Is that the truth?”
“Of course. I will never lie to you. You do not understand how addictive you are. Your mind puts mine at ease... but your scent drives me crazy. And your taste is something I wish I could live off—I would sample you all day if I could. Other nestqueens only produce an alluring scent and taste at the time of their heat-year. You are clearly pregnant, so your continued allure caught me off guard.”
“So, the allure should be gone while I’m pregnant?”
He nodded.
“But if it’s this strong now, what will it be like when I’m no longer pregnant?”
A wicked grin flashed briefly across his face. “I may never let you leave the nestbed—which means I may need some help to provide for all your needs.”
I was both surprised and pleased by his daring though my face burned at his insinuation. To my surprise, Odelm slid into my mind.
I blinked.
Xylo’s arms tightened around me.
“I am doing a poor job of comforting you. How about I help you wash?”
“I’d love that.” I eyed the soap in the baskets along the bathtub’s edge. “Pick a scent you like since your sense of smell is better than mine.”
He unwound his vines and lowered my body to the ledge next to him. I watched him reach over to pick up the basket of soaps, taking the time to smell each one. He nodded andchose a lightly floral, pink-swirled soap, then replaced the basket.
I turned my back to him and pushed my hair behind my shoulders. Water fell onto my head, and I tilted my head up and back. Hands massaged the top of my head, stroking along my scalp, fingers kneading, rubbing the soap into my hair. I moaned at the incredible sensation.
His hands felt amazing, and I didn’t want him to stop.
The exquisite care and focus with which he bathed me—taking the time to lather and rinse every millimeter of skin—warmed my heart. My instincts had been right about him having a gentle soul. I would cherish moments like this—and strive never to take him for granted.
He worked his way methodically down my neck and shoulders, and I collapsed against his chest. I took advantage of his concentration on his task to trace the elegant planes of his face. He really was beautiful, and only grew more so with each passing day.
He glanced up and met my eyes. “Tell me if something does not feel good or you need something a different way. I am not as familiar with human musculature. I have only just begun to study your species.”
His hands found a knot on my right shoulder and kneaded. My eyes rolled up in pleasure, and I let out a long groan.
He paused, looking at me with concern.
“No, don’t stop! It feels incredible.”
Xylo’s focus was single-minded as he worked his way down my body. When he finished, I felt both clean and boneless. He lowered me carefully into the water to rinse off the soap, then carried me out of the bathtub, sitting me on the tub’s edge. My gaze was glued to his strong body, watching the play of his muscles as he pulled a pair of black towels from one ofthe cabinets. He placed one beside me, using the other to carefully dry me.
When he’d finished, he scooped me into his arms again and carried me to our nestbed, laying me in the center. He smiled as he tucked the silver blanket around me.
“I will be right back.”
I eyed his muscular butt as he returned to the bathroom.
I was ashamed of my earlier overreaction. I should’ve remained, made sure he was okay, waited for him to speak to me. The way he treated me like the most precious thing in the world made my insides flutter. I smiled in remembrance—he’d made me feel cherished and cared for.
I pulled a lock of hair across my nose and sniffed. Wildflowers, light, slightly sweet, and floral—like the flowers in the terrarium.
I wondered what Xylo thought I smelled and tasted like—clearly, something he enjoyed. He’d lost control of his vines multiple times because of it, but he hadn’t mentionedwhatI smelled or tasted like to him.
His comment about needing help to provide for me—since he would have trouble letting me leave our nestbed when I started ovulating—surprised me. I didn’t realize he thought about sharing me already, that it didn’t faze him in the least even though we had just completed our permanent bond.
