The Incest

Chapter seventeen

Xavier’s POV

I watched her tug at the towel, trying to reclaim some sense of control, and I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips. Damn it, she was impossible. Every flinch, every sigh, every defiant glare only made me hungrier for her—not in a way that would cross the line yet, but enough to make the air between us electric.

“You know,” I murmured, letting my hand hover just near hers without touching, “we could stay like this all day, and I wouldn’t complain.” My voice was low, teasing, but there was an edge to it—a truth she could feel in her bones.

She stiffened, rolling her eyes but failing miserably to hide the blush creeping over her cheeks. “You’re insane,” she muttered again, and I caught the almost-smile that betrayed her.

I leaned in, careful, my forehead resting against hers. “Insane for you,” I said, voice husky, letting her feel the pulse of my words, the weight of every promise behind them. Her inhale was sharp, and I could feel her tremble slightly against me.

Her hands clenched the towel tighter, pressing it to her chest like it could shield her from me—but it didn’t work. I could feel the heat radiating off her, the way she wanted to push me away but couldn’t. Every instinct she had screamed both for me to stop and for me to stay.

“Cora,” I whispered, almost pleading, “I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever. You can try to resist, try to act like you don’t want this… but it’s already too late. You feel it, don’t you?”

Her lips parted, and for a fraction of a second, she let herself tremble against me. The words didn’t come, and I didn’t need them. Her body, her breath, the way her gaze flickered to mine—it all said enough.

I pulled back just slightly, enough to see her full face, every inch of her that made me lose my mind. “We don’t have to rush,” I said softly, letting the tension hang between us, thick and delicious. “We’ve got time. All the time in the world. And when you’re ready… I’ll be here. Always.”

She blinked at me, vulnerability flashing across her features before she tried to mask it with that defiant little smirk I hated and loved in equal measure. I leaned in again, pressing my lips gently to her temple, letting the heat of the moment linger, teasing, torturing—but never breaking.

And just like that, the world outside didn’t exist. It was just her, me, and the promise that no matter how much she tried to resist, she’d never escape me.

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I caught her as she tried to step back, her towel slipping just a little, and I couldn’t help myself—I pulled her closer, letting my hands settle on her hips, feeling the warmth of her body. She tensed, stiff as a board, but I felt that tiny shiver, the one that betrayed her, the one that said she wanted it too.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered against her ear, my lips brushing the shell as I dragged her closer to me. Her breath hitched, and I smirked at the reaction. Every feigned resistance she put up only made me want her more.

I tilted my head, letting my nose graze hers, and whispered, “I could just… keep you like this all day. Every inch of you. And you wouldn’t be able to stop it.” My fingers traced slow, teasing lines along her waist, under the edge of the towel, careful but daring.

She tried to pull away, her hands pressing the towel tighter, but it was no use. I caught her, lifting her slightly in my arms as if she weighed nothing. Her gasp, half laughter, half protest, vibrated against me, and I pressed her to my chest, holding her there.

“You feel that, don’t you?” I murmured, my chin resting on her shoulder, lips brushing the warm skin there. “The way you can’t stay away from me… the way you’re already mine, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

Her hands fisted against my shoulders, trembling just enough to make my pulse thrum harder. I let her wriggle, letting her feel the closeness, the pressure, the heat, teasing her with my strength without letting her escape.

“Xavier…” she breathed, and even the sound was like fire. I leaned in, letting my lips trail from her collarbone up to her ear, nipping gently, enough to make her shiver violently.

“I’m not stopping,” I whispered, letting my hands roam her back, over the curve of her spine, gripping her just tight enough to claim her without taking too much. “Not yet. Not ever.”

Her head tilted back, exposing her neck, her hair brushing my chest, and I couldn’t resist pressing a kiss there, trailing down to the top of her shoulder. Every inch of her skin beneath my lips was driving me insane. She was teasing me, tempting me, flinching yet pressing closer—it was maddening.

I shifted, carrying her gently toward the bed, lowering her until her knees were barely bent, letting her rest against me, my hands still roaming, feeling, memorizing every curve. Her breathing was rapid, uneven, and I whispered, “You don’t have to hide it from me. I know what you want. Every tremble, every gasp… it’s all yours for the taking.”

She tried to speak, tried to argue, but her lips trembled and her hands kept brushing mine, hesitant yet inviting. I grinned, pressing my forehead to hers, letting the tension and heat between us crackle like lightning.

“Cora,” I murmured, voice low, almost a growl, “I’ve got you. I’m not letting go. Not now, not ever. And trust me… you’ll want every second of this with me, even if you act like you don’t.”

Her eyes flickered, wide and fiery, and I knew she was caught—half denying it, half drowning in it. I pulled her closer, pressing my body against hers, hands sliding along every line I could reach, careful, teasing, dominating without crossing the final line. Every brush of skin, every heat-filled gasp, every trembling inch of her body against mine was a promise—and a torment.

She whimpered softly, pressing into me, and I whispered against her temple, “You’re mine. Even when you pretend you’re not, you are. And I don’t care. You can fight it all you want… I’m not letting you go.