KamiKowa: That Time I Got Transmigrated With A Broken Goddess

Naomi worked her fingers along Xavier's back, digging into the knots beneath his skin. She shifted her weight, her thighs tightening around his waist as she leaned forward to reach his shoulders.

"You're good at this," Xavier mumbled into the pillow.

"I'm good at lots of things," she purred, though she fought to keep her tone even.

The silk nightgown she'd borrowed rode up her thighs as she moved. Each time she pressed into a particularly tight spot, Xavier would make a small sound that reverberated low in her stomach, and her hips rocked against his back on instinct.

This might be her last chance to have him all to herself. Soon they'd reach Hearthome, find Calypso, and everything would change. Then there was Efler—or Ashley, if Xavier was right. The thought alone made her dig her thumbs harder into his muscles, drawing another groan from him.

"Too much?" she asked, easing the pressure.

"No," Xavier's voice came muffled through the pillow. "It hurts in the best way."

A faint smile touched her lips. Back at Catalyst, he'd just been another pretty face in a sea of them—striking, with that impossible white hair and those violet eyes, but nothing more.

Until that day at the mall.

She could still see him there, surrounded by the other girls, his opinions on their outfits surprisingly insightful. Most guys would have just nodded and smiled, but Xavier had actual thoughts.

But when he'd told Ashley her white pantsuit was for her father, not for herself, Naomi had leaned in. A slow, genuine smile touched her lips for the first time that day.

Then came the gate, waking up in Nessa's body, seeing him at the Fox. Their first night together had changed everything. The way he'd taken control, the confidence in his touch—she couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Your shoulders are still tight," she murmured, sliding her hands up to his neck. "Relax."

"Hard to relax when you're moving like that," Xavier replied, his voice deeper than before.

So he'd noticed. Of course he had. Naomi bit her lip, considering her options. She could stop, pretend nothing was happening. Or...

She leaned down, her breasts pressing against his back through the thin silk, and whispered in his ear, her breath mingling with the scent of woodsmoke and clean sweat from his skin. "Moving like what?"

Xavier turned his head, one eye visible now, watching her. "You know exactly what you're doing."

"Maybe I do." She sat up straight again, rolling her hips deliberately against him. "Does it bother you?"

"Not even a little."

His honesty made her laugh. No games, no false modesty. It was dangerously refreshing.

"What are you thinking about?" Xavier asked, shifting beneath her.

"The mall," she admitted. "The way you saw right through Ashley. It made me wonder..." She let the sentence hang, her thumbs digging into the muscles along his spine.

"Who is this guy?" he finished for her.

She smiled against his skin. "Something like that."

"So it wasn't just my body you were after."

"That came later." She pressed a spot at the base of his spine that made him tense. "Sorry."

"Don't be. It feels good after the initial shock."

The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across his skin. Outside, the wind howled around the stone walls of the hunting lodge, but in here, they were warm. Safe. At least for tonight.

"What happens when we find Calypso?"

Xavier was quiet for a moment. "You mean between us?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know," he admitted. "I've never done this before."

"Done what? Had multiple women interested in you at once?" She couldn't keep the skepticism from her voice. "Somehow I doubt that."

"No, I mean..." He paused. "I've never cared about the answer before."

Her hands stilled on his warm skin. Such simple honesty; it disarmed her completely.

Naomi resumed her massage, working down to his lower back. "That's not really an answer."

"I know." Xavier sighed. "The truth is, I'm connected to Calypso in ways I don't fully understand. But what I feel for you..." He trailed off.

"What do you feel for me?" She needed to hear it.

Xavier was quiet for so long she thought he might not answer. Then he spoke, his voice low. "When I look at you, I see someone who understands the other parts of me and doesn't flinch. Someone who knows what she wants and goes after it. I admire that."

It wasn't a declaration of love, but somehow it meant more. His words were the final push. The careful control she'd maintained shattered, leaving only need.

"Roll over," she commanded.

"What?"

"I need to see your face for this conversation."

Xavier complied, turning beneath her so that she now straddled his hips. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the firelight playing across the contours of his muscles. His blue eyes—so strange compared to the purple she'd known before—looked up at her with an intensity that made her shiver.

"Will you be okay with sharing me?" he asked. "You don't strike me as the sharing type."

The question caught her off guard. Would she be okay with it? She'd never shared anything in her life if she could help it.

"I'm not," she admitted. "You need those connections to reach your full potential," she said, the words tasting like ash. "I don't want to be the one holding you back."

"That's the only reason?"

Naomi looked down at him, at the man who'd saved her from the Thornbeasts, who'd given her a taste of heaven. She spread her hands over his chest. Beneath her palms, the steady, solid thump of his heart was an anchor in the storm of her thoughts.

"No," she said finally. "That's not the only reason."

"Then what?"

"I don't like it. Any of it. But I like you more than I want to admit. That's the part that scares me."

Xavier's hand cupped the back of her neck, pulling her down until his mouth crushed hers, cutting off her words. His lips were warm, insistent, making her melt against him. When they broke apart, she stayed close, her forehead resting against his.

"That's not fair," she whispered.

"I've never played fair." His hands slid up her thighs, bunching the silk nightgown around her waist.

For a heartbeat, an image of a silver-haired woman with glowing pink eyes flashed in her mind—a rival she couldn't possibly compete with. Naomi banished the thought with a possessive growl low in her throat.

She crushed her mouth to his, trying to memorize the taste of him, the weight of him. She was branding this moment onto her soul. Let Calypso come. When she arrived to claim what was hers, she would find Naomi's marks already there.