Interstellar Beast World: All My Husbands Are Powerful and Rich!-Chapter 95: Embarrassed

Rory turned back just in time to catch sight of Jasper’s face—flushed, tense, every line of it pulled taut by restraint. The heat in his eyes told her everything he wasn’t saying out loud. She drew in a steadying breath, grounding herself, then stepped closer and rose onto her toes.

She kissed him. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

The moment her lips brushed his, Jasper went utterly still, as if struck by lightning. For a heartbeat, he didn’t move at all. Then something in him snapped loose. His hands slid to her waist and tightened, fingers digging in as he kissed her back with fierce, unguarded longing. The restraint he’d been clinging to trembled violently, barely holding.

His palms traced her back, her sides—warm, possessive—yet even then, he stopped himself short, breath uneven, body rigid with the effort not to lose control.

The position was awkward, water sloshing softly around them, porcelain pressing cold against her skin. Rory shifted and gave him a gentle push against the chest.

"Jasper," she murmured, lips still close enough to feel his breath, "this angle isn’t really working. Why don’t we... move to the bed?"

She had never been shy about desire. Not with him.

But Jasper’s response was immediate—and firm.

"No." His arms tightened instead of loosening, as though anchoring himself. His voice came out low, strained. "Rory... not right now. If I keep going, I’ll hurt you."

He lowered his head into the curve of her neck, pressing his forehead there as if seeking refuge. He inhaled slowly—once, twice, three times—forcing control back into himself by sheer will.

"Give me a moment," he said quietly. "I just need to calm down."

Since he clearly couldn’t, Rory didn’t argue. She eased out of his hold, climbed from the tub, wrapped herself in a towel, and slipped out of the bathroom. If she stayed, neither of them would recover any composure.

Not long after, muted sounds drifted through the door—strained, controlled, unmistakable. Rory’s face burned hot. She quickly changed into fresh clothes and left the room altogether.

She had promised Nix mental comfort earlier.

...

Nix hadn’t expected her to come. He assumed she would still be with Jasper.

When Rory entered his room, he was crouched over a scattered pile of metal parts, tools spread out in careful rows. Burnt Dumpling was trapped under one arm, wings flailing uselessly.

"Don’t move," Nix said seriously, adjusting a measurement tool. "Precision matters. You’re too heavy. Your wings and the fake ones Jasper made can’t support sustained flight. I’m designing mechanical wings for you—full mobility. A few thousand miles of range. Power cost: one Rank-1 beast core."

"Let me go!" Burnt Dumpling chirped furiously, wriggling with all his might. He was nearly fully healed now and absolutely did not need artificial wings strapped onto him like a broken ornament.

"Stop moving." Nix flicked the bird lightly—but pointedly—on the head. "Move again and I’ll pluck you bald."

Burnt Dumpling froze on the spot, feathers stiff with immediate compliance.

The door, left slightly ajar, creaked as Rory stepped inside. She paused, watching the absurd tableau unfold for a quiet moment before finally speaking.

"Nix, are you free?" she asked gently. "I came to give you mental comfort."

The effect was instantaneous.

Nix dropped everything at once. Tools clattered noisily to the floor as he straightened, abandoning Burnt Dumpling without a second thought.

"Yes, Female Master," he said at once, voice quick and earnest. "I’m always free."

Burnt Dumpling stared at him in outrage.

Then, deeply offended at being so casually discarded, he launched himself at Nix’s shin and bit down hard.

"Chirp!"

That actually hurt.

Nix hissed softly, then kicked the bird away. When Burnt Dumpling tried to scramble back up and protest, Nix pinned him in place with a pulse of mental pressure, locking him firmly where he lay.

No interruptions were allowed.

Calm restored, Nix turned back to Rory and gently guided her toward the bed. As they reached it, his form shifted smoothly, shrinking down into his juvenile beast shape—small enough to curl comfortably at her side, obedient and ready.

Burnt Dumpling, immobilized on the floor, could only stare in simmering indignation as the world continued to ignore him.

"Female Master," he said earnestly, "I’m ready."

A tiny, pale-blue kitten sat obediently before her, round eyes solemn and sincere. Rory nearly lost her composure on the spot.

She crouched and pressed a fingertip to the kitten’s forehead. Her mental power flowed out in a soft, steady stream.

Nix’s consciousness was nothing like Jasper’s—or Paros’s. It was turbulent, overheated, restless. The moment her power touched him, it felt singed at the edges. Calming him was far harder than she’d expected.

Time stretched. Minutes bled into half an hour.

Rory’s mental energy thinned until she felt lightheaded, her temples aching. At last, Nix’s consciousness cooled, settling into something stable.

The kitten flopped onto his back, belly exposed, fast asleep.

Rory withdrew her hand and checked him carefully—breathing even, ability steady. Only then did she quietly leave the room.

...

By the time she returned, Jasper had emerged from the bathroom.

He wore a deep violet silk robe and reclined against the headboard, eyes half-closed as though resting. His long purple-black tail lay draped across the pale sheets, moving in slow, idle arcs.

The moment Rory entered, his eyes opened. He sat up too quickly, color flooding his cheeks as he avoided her gaze.

She definitely heard earlier, didn’t she?

"Jasper," Rory said casually as she climbed into bed, hugging his tail without hesitation, "are you done? I just finished giving Nix mental comfort. I’m exhausted. Let’s sleep."

Knowing how embarrassed he was, she deliberately didn’t mention the bathroom.

Her eyes closed almost immediately. After everything that day, her body simply gave up. She fell asleep the instant her head touched the pillow.

Jasper watched her for a long time.

Her face was peaceful now, soft in sleep, utterly unaware of the storm of emotions twisting in his chest. Tenderness, guilt, fear—all of it tangled together.

If he had been more careful... if he had been stronger...

She would never have been in danger at all.

He lay back beside her, tail curling protectively around her waist, and resolved that it would never happen again.