The Incest

Chapter Nine

Xavier’s POV

It had been three days since the kiss, and Cora still hadn’t said a single word to me.

Three days of silence. Three days of being invisible in my own house.

At first, I thought she was pulling one of her dramatic sulks, waiting for me to poke fun so she could explode on me again. That was usually how things went between us. I’d tease, she’d flare up, I’d push her buttons harder, and she’d snap like fireworks. It was a game. Our game.

But this wasn’t a game. This was torture.

She didn’t look at me at breakfast. She didn’t mutter curses under her breath when I walked into a room. She didn’t roll her eyes when I smirked in her direction. She just… carried on like I didn’t exist.

And that was worse.

The mansion made her silence louder. Every hallway echoed with it. Every marble floor I walked across felt emptier without her sarcastic footsteps chasing behind. The staff bustled around in the mornings, polite and efficient, but by evening they vanished, leaving just me and her in this house too big for two.

I thought silence would be easy. I thought, hell, maybe it’d even be a relief not to have her biting my head off every five minutes. But instead, it gnawed at me.

Because every time she ignored me, I remembered that kiss.

Her lips pressed against mine, hard and desperate, like she wanted to shut me up and burn me alive in the same breath. And me? I laughed. The biggest mistake of my life.

I laughed because I didn’t know what else to do. Because if I hadn’t, I would’ve kissed her back. Really kissed her. And that would’ve broken us both.

Now she wouldn’t even look at me.

By the third afternoon, I couldn’t take it anymore.

She was in the living room, stretched out on the couch with her notebook open, pen tapping against the page like she was trying to convince herself she was busy. The sunlight spilled across her face, her hair falling loose around her shoulders. She looked calm, untouchable. Like she hadn’t spent three days ripping me apart piece by piece with her silence.

I stood in the doorway, watching her for too long. My chest ached. My jaw clenched. Finally, I forced my voice out.

“Cora.”

Nothing.

“Cora,” I said again, sharper this time.

Still nothing. Just the scratch of her pen against paper.

I stepped closer. “We’re not doing this anymore.”

Her pen froze, but she didn’t look up. She just flipped the page and started scribbling again like I was some ghost passing through.

Something in me snapped.

I crossed the room in two strides and grabbed her wrist before she could pretend I wasn’t there.

Her eyes shot up to mine, fire flashing for the first time in days. Finally. I’d take anger over silence any day.

“Let me go,” she hissed, yanking her arm.

“No.” My voice came out rough. “You’ve been ignoring me for three days. That ends now.”

She glared, twisting her wrist again, but I held on.

And then—I don’t know what came over me—I pulled her against me, wrapping my arms around her so tight she couldn’t wriggle free.

She stiffened instantly. Her fists pressed against my chest. “Xavier, let me go!”

“No.” I buried my face in her hair. “Not this time.”

She shoved at me, fists thudding against me in weak, frustrated bursts. “You’re such a—ugh—i***t—”

And then I heard it.

A small, broken sob.

She froze for a heartbeat, fists trembling against me, before she started hitting me again—but softer this time. Like she didn’t know if she wanted to fight me or collapse.

“Damn you,” she choked, voice cracking as tears slid down her cheeks. “Damn you, Xavier.”

My chest caved in. My arms tightened around her, one hand stroking her back in slow circles, the other holding the back of her head against me.

“I know,” I whispered, my throat tight. “I know.”

She cried harder, her fists going limp against my chest until all that was left was her trembling against me, her face buried in my shirt.

Three days of silence, three days of walls—gone. Shattered in my arms.

And the terrifying thing? I didn’t want to let go.

---

She stayed pressed against me longer than I expected.

Her breaths came uneven, shaky, her chest rising and falling like she couldn’t get enough air. My shirt was damp where her face had been buried, and every sound she made carved deeper into me.

Then, just as suddenly as she gave in, she shoved me. Hard enough to stumble me back a step.

“Don’t—” her voice cracked, raw, “don’t you dare think this fixes anything.”

I raised both hands, palms out like I’d been caught stealing. “I didn’t say it did.”

Her eyes were red, lashes wet, lips trembling. She wiped her cheeks with her sleeve, furious at herself for even letting me see. “You’re such a—ugh—” She cut herself off, throwing her notebook onto the couch like it had betrayed her. “I hate that you make me feel like this.”

That hit harder than it should have.

But I didn’t let it show.

Instead, I leaned against the doorway, forcing calm I didn’t feel. “Hate me all you want,” I said, voice low, “just don’t shut me out.”

Her glare could’ve killed me. She spun on her heel and stormed down the hall, footsteps pounding against marble, each one pulling her further away.

I stayed frozen where I was, heart still racing from the feel of her in my arms. Her weight. Her warmth. Her breaking apart.

It wrecked me.

---

The rest of the day blurred by.

I tried distracting myself—TV, music, even pacing the damn garden like some brooding i***t—but she was everywhere. Her voice in my head. Her face when she cried. The way her fists had weakened against my chest.

By dinner, she didn’t show. Probably holed up in her room again. The staff set the table, served me food, and vanished before I even touched it. That was the thing about this house—they came, they went, never lingering long enough to notice the cracks running through us.

By nightfall, the mansion was ours. Just ours. Empty halls, silent rooms, shadows stretching too far.

And I couldn’t sit still anymore.

I wandered, restless, until my feet carried me to the library. Of course. Where else would she be?

Sure enough, the light was on inside. The door slightly ajar. I pushed it open quietly, heart already thudding too loud.

She was there, curled up in one of the leather chairs, a blanket thrown over her legs, a book open but untouched in her lap. Her hair fell forward, hiding half her face, but I could see enough—eyes distant, lips pressed tight, lost in thought.

For a second, I just stood there, leaning against the doorframe, drinking in the sight of her.

She noticed me immediately. Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “Seriously? Do you not get tired of stalking me?”

I smirked, though my chest felt anything but light. “Library’s big enough for two. Unless you’ve claimed it on top of ignoring me everywhere else.”

She rolled her eyes, snapping her book shut. “Go away.”

“Make me.”

Her jaw dropped, outrage sparking exactly where I wanted it. “You’re—ugh—you’re so annoying.”

“And yet…” I stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind me. “You haven’t moved.”

Her cheeks flushed, whether from anger or something else, I couldn’t tell. She pulled the blanket tighter around her. “That’s because I was here first. Don’t flatter yourself.”

I moved closer, slow, deliberate, until I was leaning against the bookshelf opposite her chair. “I don’t need to flatter myself,” I said casually. “You do a good enough job showing me how much space I take up in your head.”

She shot up from her chair, blanket tumbling to the floor. “Oh my god, you are insufferable!”

Her voice cracked at the end, betraying her.

I grinned, softer this time. “There’s the fire.”

She glared, fists clenched at her sides. “You think this is funny? You think me crying earlier was—was—”

Her voice broke, just like it had in the hallway.

Before I could answer, she moved. Fast. Furious. She closed the gap between us and shoved me back against the shelf, standing on her toes.

And then she kissed me.

Not soft. Not careful. A rush of anger, frustration, desperation, everything she’d been holding back exploding all at once.

Her lips crashed against mine, rough and clumsy and perfect.

My brain short-circuited. My hands twitched at my sides, every instinct screaming to pull her closer, to drown in it.

But instead—god help me—I laughed.

She froze, lips still against mine, eyes wide when she pulled back just enough to look at me. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

I shook my head, breathless, trying to hold it together. “I’m not laughing at you,” I managed, chest tight. “I just—Cora, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

Her cheeks went crimson. “Don’t you dare make fun of me—”

“I’m not.” My voice softened. I forced myself to meet her eyes, to let her see I meant it. “It’s just… you think you’re the only one losing it here? You think I haven’t replayed that first kiss a thousand times in my head already?”

She blinked, caught between fury and something rawer. “Then why—why laugh?”

“Because…” I swallowed hard, finally letting the truth slip. “If I don’t laugh, I’ll lose control. And if I lose control, Cora… there’s no going back.”

Her breath hitched, lips parting like she wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

The silence between us roared louder than any scream.

I pushed off the shelf, closing the tiny space she’d left. My hand hovered at her jaw, not touching, just close enough to feel her warmth. “You terrify me,” I whispered.

Her eyes shimmered, wide and wild. “Good.”

For a heartbeat, I thought I’d kiss her back this time. Really kiss her.

But then she stepped back, ripping the moment away. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, grabbing her blanket from the floor and storming past me.

The door slammed behind her.

The second the library door slammed, I was moving.

Her footsteps echoed down the hall, sharp and furious, each one stabbing into me like she was trying to run from the way I’d just laughed, from the way I’d just almost kissed her back. She thought she could walk away again—like hell I was letting that happen.

“Cora!” My voice chased after her, too loud in the empty mansion. She didn’t slow. Didn’t even flinch. Just kept storming ahead, shoulders stiff, hair swaying with every step.

I quickened my pace, long strides eating up the space between us.

“Cora, stop!”

She spun on her heel so fast I nearly ran into her. Her eyes were blazing, red-rimmed from earlier, her lips parted like she had a hundred curses loaded and ready.

“What, Xavier? What else do you want to humiliate me with tonight? Haven’t you laughed enough?”

Her words cut, but I didn’t back down. My chest heaved with everything I’d held in for days, all the things I’d swallowed just to keep control. I wasn’t swallowing them anymore.

“You think that’s what I’m doing?” I snapped, my voice low, rough. “You think I’m laughing at you? You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

She scoffed, bitter, hugging herself like armor. “Oh, please. Spare me the drama.” She spun to leave again.

I grabbed her wrist. Not hard. Just enough to stop her.

She froze, then whipped her head back, glare sharp enough to kill. “Let me go.”

“No,” I said, my voice steady even though my pulse was chaos. “Not this time.”

Her chest rose and fell, quick, uneven. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Then tell me you don’t feel it,” I shot back. “Look me in the eye and say you don’t feel any of this.”

Her mouth opened. Nothing came out. Her eyes flicked to mine, wide and furious and terrified all at once.

And that silence—that hesitation—was all I needed.

Before she could twist away, I pulled her in. My free hand slid up to the side of her face, tilting her chin just enough. And then I kissed her.

Not like the first time—her anger exploding against my mouth. Not like the second—me laughing to keep from breaking.

This was different.

This was me losing control.

Her lips were soft, trembling, tasting faintly of salt from the tears she hadn’t fully hidden. She stiffened in shock, hands pressed to my chest like she’d shove me away.

But she didn’t.

Her fingers curled into my shirt instead.

Her body melted against mine, fragile and fierce all at once, and every ounce of restraint I’d clung to these past days shattered. My hand slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head as I deepened the kiss, pouring every damn thing I hadn’t said into it.

I kissed her like I owned her. Like she owned me.

When I finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, her breath shaky. Her eyes—God, her eyes—looked at me like I’d just set her entire world on fire.

“You can’t…” she whispered, voice breaking. “You can’t just—”

“Yes, I can,” I cut in, my forehead pressing against hers. “I’m done pretending I don’t want this. Done pretending I don’t want you.”

Her breath hitched. Her grip on my shirt tightened. And for once, she didn’t fight me.

I took that as permission.

I laced our fingers together, tugging gently but firmly, leading her down the hall. She stumbled a step. “Where—”

“My room,” I said simply.

Her eyes widened. “No. Xavier—”

“Yes,” I whispered, glancing back at her. “You’ve already been in my head. You might as well see the one place no one else does.”

Her protest died on her lips. She let me lead her.

---

My room was at the end of the hall, the one door nobody touched. Even the staff avoided it. When I pushed it open, the warm glow from the bedside lamp spilled across dark wood, shelves lined with records and books, a desk cluttered with sketches I never showed anyone, and a bed that suddenly felt way too intimate.

Cora hovered in the doorway, hesitant, her hand still in mine. “So this is your cave,” she muttered, trying to mask her nerves with sarcasm.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “And now it’s not just mine.”

I pulled her inside and shut the door.

For a moment, neither of us moved. She stood there, looking around, taking it all in—the mess I never let anyone see, the worn leather chair in the corner, the half-finished notes scattered across the desk. The part of me that wasn’t polished marble floors and staff cleaning up after me.

The real part.

When her eyes finally flicked back to mine, I knew she saw it. All of it.

And instead of running, she let me tug her closer.

Her body fit against mine like it belonged there. I kissed her again, slower this time, gentler, savoring the way her lips yielded to mine. Her hands slid up, tangling in my hair, pulling me down until we both collapsed onto the bed, her laughter breaking free between kisses before it turned into soft gasps.

I hovered over her, bracing my weight on my elbows so I wouldn’t crush her. Every part of me screamed to go further, to taste more, to lose myself completely.

But I didn’t.

I broke the kiss, pressing my forehead against hers, my chest heaving. “We’re not… I’m not going to—” I swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “No s*x. Not tonight. Not until you’re ready. Not until we’re ready.”

Her eyes searched mine, wide and vulnerable. “You mean that?”

I brushed my thumb across her cheek, nodding. “I’d burn this whole damn mansion down before I ever risked hurting you.”

She exhaled, shaky, like the weight of those words knocked the fight out of her. Slowly, she tugged me down beside her, curling into my chest.

We didn’t speak after that. We didn’t need to.

I held her. She held me.

The world outside my room ceased to exist.

And for the first time in days, I finally felt whole.