34. Cin
Cin
Back at the mansion, mom stops us as we’re carrying the bags in with a million questions. I have to stop her before she blows a fuse.
“Mama,” placing the bags on the counter so I have my hands. I wrap her up in a hug, “Talon took me to get some clothes.”
She looks around me to where he stands, and I can just envision his face, indifferent, possibly scowling.
“Okay,” she nods, and I catch a whiff of whatever Chef is making. It smells incredible, especially since I’m tapped out on dessert for a while. “I had some clothes brought over from Ravard for you. Griffin packed you a bag.”
“Griffin’s here?” I ask.
She nods and walks with me to Talon’s room that's become mine. Griffin’s there, placing my bags on the bed. His broad shoulders are covered in a t-shirt, and his beard looks more gray than I remember the last time I saw him.
“Hey Griff,” he looks up and visibly relaxes.
He crosses the room and bundles me into a hug, “I’m glad you’re alright,” he says into my hair, and I smile. “You gave us a scare, kid.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” I say, dropping my face to look at my feet.
“It wasn’t your fault, and I’m so fucking proud of you, you know that?” he says, and I nod. “We’re gonna find him.”
Griffin’s assurances are nice, and I could almost convince myself that he’s right. But my stomach threatens to bottom out, and I bite my bottom lip.
“I brought some stuff from your dorm, it’s not everything, but it’s the essentials.” He gestures to the bags and I immediately move to them, pulling out my favorite band tee and my computer.
“Thank you, Griff,” I make a small sound of joy, and plug in my laptop. It's got to be dead since I haven’t been able to charge it in a few days. Since it connects to my phone I can check my texts.
The speakers start to ding with notifications, and I quickly turn the volume off. My cheeks heat, Griffin and mom share a look, and I shake my head.
“Dinner’s at seven,” mom says, and they leave, revealing Talon standing in the hall.
I can’t decipher the look on his face. He seems almost angry, but I’m just so happy to have things that are mine, that I don’t bother being polite. Shutting the door with him on the other side, I quickly change into my Young Decay shirt and green leggings.
It’s comfort at its finest, and I throw the door back open. Talon is still standing there silently stewing over whatever I did that pissed him off, but this time he moves into the room and shuts the door behind him.
“I hate this,” he spits, walking me back to the edge of his bed. I should have known this was coming, after the day we spent together. It was only a matter of time before he chose to go back to the asshole who tried to make my senior year hell. “I hate that you're here. I hate that you’ve gotten under my skin. I hate that you flinch every time someone gets fucking close to you now.”
His chest moves rapidly under his t-shirt, but his anger doesn’t feel directed toward me. Just like earlier, when he started sporting his scowl, it wasn’t at me, it felt like he was angry for me.
“Who hurt you, Fish Boy?” I exhale, unwilling to fight him right now. His bed is soft, so I scramble onto it, sitting with one of my legs tucked under my body and the other dangling off his mattress.
He doesn’t respond. Instead, his scowl is still in place, and his jaw muscle jumps. He must be clenching his teeth.
“You like me, and you hate yourself for it. I want to know why,” I don’t understand it either, but the last few days spent in his domain… I could sense the shift before he admitted to ‘trying’.
When I found my way to the barn and he showed me the horses, exposing a side to him that felt unreal. Then the clothes, good lord the clothes, he bought everything I eyed in any sort of delight. Then the cafe, Fern and Flourished, where his surrogate mother happens to work? It’s all something from a fever dream.
He turns, as if he’s going to leave, and I reach out and grip his wrist, “no, you don’t get to do that, to say those things and retreat…”
In a blink, he’s turned back, facing me, his free hand gripping my chin, forcing my head to tilt. He can see the ugly scar under my neck. The one I hide, or thought I did. His ocean eyes are impossible to read, stormy one moment, serene the next, and I don’t have it in me tonight to fight it out with him.
“I’m going to break you Talon. Crack you open and explore everything that makes up who you are. Black sludge it may be, but I’ll wade through it to fucking figure you out.”
I can’t stand his games or challenges, or whatever this thing between us has turned into. And fuck me, I like him. I’ve seen what an asshole he can be, but I also know it’s all been because he’s never had a reason to love someone more than himself. I don’t know how I know, maybe that’s the fucked up part of me–willing to overlook all his glaring red flags–but I know he’s hiding something. And I’m going to break him to find out what it is.
I guess part of my psyche is broken because the Talon I’ve come to know and care for is standing in front of me. All his broken pieces lay on his bedroom floor, but I can’t pick them up if I don’t know how sharp the edges are.
“That’s the problem, Spice,” he whispers, so low I almost miss it, “I think you already did.”
Breathing in a sharp inhale, I wait, giving him the space to speak about whatever it is that’s been between the two of us.
“What I hate most of all, is that while I thought I was breaking you, it was really you breaking me . And I don’t know how to breathe from this feeling.”
I reach for him, wrapping my hand around his wrist and bringing him down on the mattress, his body pressing mine into his bed.
“Cin.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” I nudge his nose with mine and tilt my head so our lips brush. His hand slides up my side and his lips crash down on mine.
He moves his hand to my neck and leans my head back, digging his fingers into the bruises there. But my brain doesn’t register any pain. Instead, there’s lust and energy as his lips move over mine, tongue diving between my lips.
I sigh into his kiss, running my hands through his hair and down his back. He lifts away from me, and I wish I could read what’s written there.
“We shouldn’t,” he starts, and I reach up to cup his chin.
“I think we should.”
Bringing my head up to his, I kiss him again, trailing my lips over his jaw and neck. He groans, and the sound makes me want to hear it over and over again.
“Spice,” he growls, and I pause to look at him. Afternoon sun pours into the room, and his features glow with it. “I want to hurt you. I want to have you screaming my name while I fuck you ruthlessly. I want you to cry, and I want to feel you break into pieces, so I’m the only one who can put them back into place.”
I swallow, but deep down I knew this, even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself. That I needed this, the rawness of who he is, the pain he wants to inflict. I want it to be me that he hurts, I want him to lose his mind in me. I want him to wreck me for anyone else, and I want to do the same to him.
“I can’t help those parts of myself,” he admits.
“Then don’t,” I tell him, biting his bottom lip earning another growl from deep in his chest.
He pulls us up, crossing the room to position a chair in front of the mirror that rests in the corner of his room.
“Sit,” he commands, and I do. Curiosity and anticipation mix in my blood, and I know giving him this control is something he needs, and hell, maybe something I need too.
He kneels in front of me, running his hands up my legs he finds the waistband of my leggings and begins pulling them down. I could tell him to stop, but I don’t want to, I want to see what he’ll give me.
“Lift your hips for me, Spice,” his chest rumbles with the words and I obey. Lifting my hips and letting him pull the material down my legs.
He inhales a breath, “goddamnit, have you been bare all day?”
I nod, and he attacks my lips, soft and pliable. I allow him to kiss me the way he wants. Ravaging my mouth as if he’ll never touch it again. His hands search my body, fingers flexing against my flesh.
He moves behind me, breaking the kiss and forcing my head forward so I’m staring at myself half-naked in the mirror.
His hand grips mine, fingers filling the spaces between mine. Slowly, he moves my hand from my shoulder past my collar to my chest, where he squeezes one of my breasts. Our eyes are locked in the mirror, and I sigh out into the quiet air.
Guiding my hand to the apex of my thighs, he uses his free hand to mimic the other, spreading my legs wide so all of our focus goes to my pussy in the mirror.
“Look at how pretty you are,” he drawls in my ear, “how your body glistens for me.”
My head falls back, and I watch his face as he moves our hands up my thighs, close but not touching me. Anticipation builds, my muscles clench and relax, and I want so badly for him to touch me.
“Tell me, Spice,” he whispers against my skin, “how badly do you want my fingers buried in your cunt?”
Whimpering at the ceiling, taking pleasure in the way his words bring out a side of me that I didn’t know I craved.
He swipes one of our intertwined hands over my entrance and up to my clit. Smearing the wetness there over my skin, he trails it over my clothes, up to my throat and into his mouth. His eyes slide to mine as he groans.
“Sweet,” he licks his lips and moves our hands back down to stroke my clit. The first swipe sends shivers over my skin, causing my flesh to pebble. He rubs hard circles over me and I squirm, making sounds I’ve only ever heard on Pornhub.
“That’s it, baby,” Talon’s voice makes everything so much hotter, “watch you’re pretty little pussy in the mirror while I make you cum using your hand.”
My eyes fall shut as he brings me to the edge. Suddenly his hand clamps around my neck, using his thumb and first finger to dig into my jaw, jerking my head back down so our eyes once again lock in the mirror, “you're going to watch, and cum harder than you ever have before, you feel me baby?”
The snarl in his voice sends me careening over the edge of bliss, and I shake, trying not to shout out. His lips make a path over my neck, and he continues rubbing our fingers in circles over my clit, “scream for me.”
He’s relentless, spreading my orgasm over my thighs and making a mess out of me. Caressing my entrance with his fingers, my hand forgotten, hanging limp by my side.
“What do you think, Cin, hmm? Can you give me one more?” I whimper, and bite my lip, nodding and pushing my ass closer to the edge of the chair. He chuckles and sinks a finger into my aching center.
“How many fingers can you take, Spice? One,” he moves his long finger in and out of me leisurely and notches another, “two?” He pushes both in, and I squirm at the stretch, moaning at the feeling of his fingers moving inside of me.
His eyes burn as they watch me, his palm brushes my clit as he works me over with his fingers.
“I don’t…” I whimper out.
“No baby, you can,” he says, before capturing my mouth with his. Our breaths mingle as I start to shake and whimper, moaning as he touches my body like he’s known it for years.
His tongue brushes mine, synchronized with his palm that’s pressed against my clit. He swallows my cries, and I feel his lips pulling up in a devilish smile. My breaths are shallow, quick bursts as another orgasm rips through me.
It’s powerful, and his deft fingers move in just the right patterns to make my body cry out. I’m shaking, vibrating with pleasure, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
“Talon,” my voice quivers as I beg him to stop, or continue, or… fuck, I don’t even know what I’m begging for.
He deliberately pulls his fingers out of my body slowly, allowing me to see the cum that coats his hand and trails down to my ass, dripping onto the cushion of the chair I’m sitting in.
“Dripping wet,” he kneels in front of me, and I try to close my legs. He reaches out and holds onto my knees, pushing them apart while glaring at me. “Don’t you dare try to hide what’s mine, Spice. I need a taste.”
Swiping his tongue through my pussy I think I forget how to breathe.
“Delicious,” he says, licking his lips and gripping the back of my neck, bringing our lips together in a slow dance of hearts. My legs are heavy and limp, as I rest my head on his shoulder. He chuckles and helps me stand, moving us back to the bed.
I pull at his sweats and he bats my hands away, “not tonight.”
“But–”
“Cin, you don’t owe me anything,” he stops me, “and I owe you everything.”
He lays down beside me, wrapping his arms around my body, pulling us flush against one another.
“I owe you a million apologies, an explanation, make up orgasms,” he smiles against my neck, “and I know I’ll fuck this up at some point, but all I ask is that you never leave without talking to me first. Okay?”
Eyeing him and hearing the vulnerability in his voice, I nod. He traces the scar on my neck with a finger, and I know I need more from him, but right now, I’m just happy that he’s here and that I feel safe.