Interstellar Beastworld: Raising A Cub With My Mummy System!-Chapter 61

Lin Yue stroked her chin, which should she choose?

"I’ll let you recommend.."

"Huh...sure. Spicy it is. Make sure you’re alone."

Lin Yue’s eyes went wide. "Spicy? Luma, what exactly are you—"

The screen flickered. A woman in a silk dress pressed against a wall, a man in a dark suit leaning into her.

The lighting was dramatic

The music, low and thrumming.

Then the woman moaned.

Lin Yue nearly dropped the phone in shock.

She scrambled to lower the volume, her face burning, her fingers slipping on the glass. The man on the screen whispered something.

Another moan.

Her lips twitched, they were really going at it.

She finally found the button and slammed it down.

But Lin Yue was a little too late, someone had heard the last moan.

She looked up.

Uriel stood in the doorway.

His eyes moved from her face to the phone in her hands, then back to her face. His sleeves were rolled up, his hair still slightly disheveled. The smell of cold night air clung to him.

"What are you watching?"

She opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

"Um." She cleared her throat. "It’s not what it looks like. I was just watching a drama Luma suggested."

His eyebrow went up. "The AI suggested that kind of drama?"

Luma: -_-!! she could have changed it.

Lin Yue smiled sheepishly. But her smile slowly fell when Uriel inched over slowly.

He moved until he was standing over her, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him. She tilted her head back to look up at him, her heart doing something complicated.

"If you want something spicy, I’ve got a military grade bazooka ready for action."

She stared at him.

He stared back.

Then they both burst out laughing.

She laughed so hard her stomach hurt, her head falling back against the pillow. His shoulders shook, his hand braced on the headboard above her.

"That was terrible," she gasped.

"I know."

"Military‑grade?"

"C’mon, it wasn’t that bad."

She laughed again, and in the middle of it she didn’t know when he had moved, when his arms had slid down to bracket her, when he had pinned her beneath him on the bed.

Her laughter faded.

She slowly came to a realization that this man had tricked her.

"You—"

"You’ve been very naughty today," he murmured. "Now you’re even watching naughty things."

She swallowed. "It was Luma."

"Luma," he repeated.

The phone lay forgotten beside her. The room was quiet except for their breathing.

He lowered his head, his lips brushing her ear. "Do you want to keep watching?"

Her voice came out small. "No."

"Good."

He kissed her then, slow and deliberate, and she forgot about the drama, forgot about the reels, forgot about everything except the way his hands slid into her hair and the way her own hands found his shoulders and pulled him closer.

His hand slid under her shirt, his palm flat against her stomach, warm. She gasped against his mouth and he swallowed it, his tongue sliding against hers.

She pulled at his collar, at the buttons she couldn’t reach, and he laughed low against her lips.

"Impatient?"

"You talk too much."

He kissed her again, harder this time, and she arched up into him. His hands moved, tracing her sides, her hips, the hem of her shirt sliding up. She tugged at his belt and he helped her, impatient now too, his breath coming faster.

The shirt went first, then his, and then there was skin against skin, warm and solid. She ran her hands down his back and he shivered, his mouth finding her neck, her collarbone, lower.

"Lin Yue," he breathed, and her name in his voice did something to her she couldn’t name.

She pulled him down.

The rest of the clothes disappeared. His hands were everywhere, her hands were everywhere, and there was no space between them, no air, nothing but the heat of his body and the sound of his breathing and the way he said her name again, and again, and again.

She lost track of time. Lost track of everything except the way he moved inside her, the way his hands gripped her hips, the way his forehead pressed against hers when he finally stilled, both of them gasping, both of them shaking.

He stayed there for a long moment, his weight heavy and warm, his breath ragged against her neck.

Then he pulled back and looked at her.

His eyes were dark. His lips were red. His hair was a mess.

She probably looked worse.

"The night is still young. Brace yourself, I’m not stopping till we run out of condoms."

She woke to pain.

Not the sharp kind, the deep kind. The kind that settled into her bones and made every muscle scream when she tried to move. She groaned and rolled onto her back, her arm flopping across the empty space beside her.

Empty.

She cracked one eye open. The sheets were rumpled. The pillow beside hers still had the indent of a head. But no Uriel.

She wanted to hit him.

She wanted to hit him for leaving without saying goodbye.

She wanted to hit him last night, for the way he had looked at her, for the way he had touched her, for the way he had kept going until she couldn’t see straight.

The condom wrapper on the nightstand caught her eye.

She looked at it. Then on the floor. Then at the small trash bin beside the dresser.

There were more wrappers in there.

Her face went hot. She remembered the first one. And the second. After that, everything blurred.

She groaned again and covered her face with both hands. Her body ached. Her legs felt like jelly. Her lips were swollen.

There was a mark on her collarbone she was going to kill him for.

Then Auriel cried.

The sound cut through her fog like a blade. She sat up too fast, her head swimming, her body protesting. The cry came again, louder this time, insistent.

She threw off the covers and stumbled to the bassinet.

Auriel’s face was red, his little fists waving, his mouth open in that particular shape that meant he was hungry and he was not going to wait.

"I’m coming," she croaked. "Mummy’s coming."

She lifted him out, cradling him against her chest. He rooted immediately, his head turning, his mouth searching. She fumbled with her shirt, wincing as the fabric caught on skin that was already tender.