Chapter 13 Maze
MAZE
Talon’s house smelled like him—cedar, smoke, faint whiskey, and something wilder. A fire flared to life in the hearth, throwing soft light across the space, catching on dark wood floors and leather. It was warm, lived in. And somehow, that unsettled me more than if it had been a sterile den.
I stepped further in, fingers trailing across the back of his couch. “This is where you hide?”
“Not hiding,” he said, shutting the door behind us. “Waiting.”
Two centuries. I’d spent them building walls. He’d spent them biding his time. My heart clenched. And now we’re here.
I turned and noted that he was watching me as if I might vanish. His restraint was a physical thing, wrapping tight around his frame, holding his wolf back because he thought I needed space.
But I was done with space.
I crossed the distance, pressing my palms against his chest, feeling the solid heat of him through his shirt. His heartbeat thudded steadily under my hands, grounding me, daring me to close the last gap between us.
“You’ve been waiting too long,” I whispered.
His amber eyes burned, but he stayed still, hands at his sides. “I’d wait longer. As long as it takes.”
My mouth curved. “What if I don’t want you to wait?”
Surprise flickered across his face before his lips curved into something dangerous. But before he could answer, I shoved him lightly back, steering him toward the couch. He let me, his smirk sharpening as he dropped onto the cushions.
“I take the lead tonight,” I murmured, standing over him.
“Then lead me,” he said, voice rough with hunger.
Heat surged through me. I straddled his lap, thighs bracketing his hips, and tugged his shirt over his head. His body was all hard muscles, scarred skin. Every inch of him was honed for battle. My palms mapped him, fingers brushing over ridges of scars that told stories I hadn’t lived.
“You’re staring,” he teased, though his voice was strained.
“Admiring,” I corrected, leaning down to press my lips to a scar along his collarbone. His breath caught, muscles tensing under my mouth.
I kissed my way across his chest, tasting salt, heat, him. His hands tightened on my hips but didn’t push, didn’t guide. He let me set the pace, and that knowledge made desire curl tighter inside me.
When I kissed him, it wasn’t tentative. It was fire. His mouth met mine with a growl, his hands finally gripping me hard, pulling me flush against him. His hunger was a live wire beneath his control, snapping between us until my pulse raced.
My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, demanding. His answering growl vibrated into my mouth, making me shiver.
Our clothes vanished in a blur of frantic hands and laughter that dissolved into moans. His skin burned against mine, every brush of contact a spark.
I sank down onto his cock and moaned at the feel of him filling me. I rolled my hips against him as I deepened the kiss. The rhythm built slowly, every movement a claim. I guided the pace, refusing to give in to the wild urgency clawing at us. This wasn’t just about need. It was about choice. Mine.
When he tried to flip me beneath him, I pressed my palm against his chest and shoved him back down with a grin. “I said I’m leading.”
His eyes glowed faintly in the firelight, his smile feral. “Then don’t stop.”
So, I didn’t.
I rode the rhythm, slow at first, then harder, faster, drawing sounds from him that sent heat rushing through me. His hands roamed my body, rough and reverent, touching like he was memorizing every inch. He whispered my name against my throat, his voice raw, and it unraveled me.
When the storm of it finally broke, it was more than physical.
The bond snapped tight between us, a rush of heat and light weaving into my very soul.
I didn’t have an inner wolf, but I felt his through him—wild, fierce, protective—and it wrapped around me like a shield, pulling me into him in a way deeper than flesh.
My climax tore through me with a cry, every nerve alight, every wall I’d built shattering in the flood of him. He followed with a growl, hands gripping me hard as his release crashed through, his emotions spilling across the bond until I couldn’t breathe for the force of it.
When it finally ebbed, I collapsed against him, my skin slick with sweat, my body trembling with aftershocks. He held me tight, chest heaving, lips pressing into my hair like he couldn’t stop.
I lifted my head, searching his face. His eyes were softer than I’d ever seen them, molten gold threaded with something dangerous.
“You have me now,” I whispered.
His thumb brushed my cheek, his voice steady as a vow. “Always had you. Just had to wait for you to remember.”
And for the first time in two hundred years, I let myself believe it.