41. Cin
Cin
Well, now that the news is out that Talon and I are a… couple, I don’t have to hide going to the boys’ dorms anymore. Griffin still walks with me in the most inconspicuous way he can until he gets me to the dorm and the door shuts and locks.
Talon is already here, waiting on my bed since he has no last class. He’s leaning back against the pillows, legs stretched out in front of him. The picture of relaxation.
“Make yourself at home,” I joke.
“It’s my girlfriend's bed,” he lobs back at me, and I shoot him a sassy look. He laughs and pats the side of the bed that has the most room. Placing my bag on the table, along with my phone, I join him. Snuggling up to his side and breathing in his smell. The first time we met he smelled like cologne, but now all I can smell is, well… Talon.
He smells like home.
“I think it’s time to play a truth, for a truth,” I whisper into the room. The door connecting our rooms is shut, but I know none of the boys are in there. Henry is at the cafe, Toby is with Gemma, and Banks is at his late class.
He wraps his arm behind me and rolls me over so I’m half on top of him.
“What truth do you have in mind?” His face signals he knows, but his eyes hold out that hope that maybe I won’t ask. He’s hoping I’ll ask something… easier.
“I want to know about your mom,” I don’t whisper, he wouldn’t appreciate it, I think he’d be pissed if I did, “you can ask me anything in return, and I’ll answer.”
He runs a hand down his face and sighs, “I don’t like talking about her.”
“I know,” I sit up so I can face him fully, “but I feel like it’s the last barrier you carry around your heart, and if you want mine, I have to be able to see yours.”
His eyes laser in on me, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. I need him to drop that last wall, or this will never work. I can’t offer all of my secrets to someone who isn’t willing to give me theirs in return.
“Will you run, Spice?” He articulates every word, enunciating each syllable, “when you find out how much of a monster I really am, will you run away and pretend I don’t exist?”
His questions make my anger for this woman, who gave him life, boil. Laying a hand on his face, I shake my head, “no, Talon, I could never pretend you don’t exist.”
He closes his eyes and inhales a deep, shaky breath. I can see the fear rolling off of him, and I almost change my mind, but before I can say anything, he speaks.
“Toby and I aren’t twins, we’re triplets. Me and Toby are identical, but we also had a fraternal twin sister, Teagan,” he begins, and immediately, I’m floored. I have to keep my lips from splitting open. “We were miracle babies. Dad said the two of them had trouble getting pregnant naturally, so they had help. When they implanted the embryos, mine and Toby’s split into two, and Teagan’s implanted alone.”
His eyes never leave mine, as if he’s trying to inject this story into my brain.
“Teagan was the only girl. She was smaller and needed more care. She got sick more than we did but still tried to keep up with Toby and me. We were three when she fell down the stairs and broke her leg. Our mother claimed I pushed her since I was standing at the top and Toby was at the bottom.”
“She was furious. It’s odd that people remember things from such an early age, but I can still remember the way she looked at me. Like I was a natural born killer.”
I lean into him, placing my forehead against his, “it sounds like an unfortunate accident,” I tell him.
He scoffs but continues, “our mother never looked at me with love anymore after that and pretended I didn’t exist. Sometimes, when dad was out, she’d ‘forget’ to feed me, and Toby would share his plate with me.”
My heart aches for Talon’s inner child. It makes his behavior understandable, not forgivable, but I can see how he became the guy he is today.
“She would take Teagan out for girls’ trips and leave Toby and me home alone with only ourselves for hours at a time. Our parents used to fight about it constantly. Dad was always checking on us until, eventually, he hired a nanny. The nanny always told him the same thing; that our mother didn’t speak to me and barely spoke to Toby. I guess since we’re such a close pair, she considered us both dangerous.”
“One night, after we had just turned six, Toby really wanted ice cream after we saw Teagan get a bowl after dinner. He begged mom for a bowl, but since the nanny had already gone home, she refused, sent us to bed, and forgot about us.”
His bottom lip trembles, and he turns his head away. “I slipped out of our room later that night and went to the kitchen, where I made Toby a bowl of ice cream with everything Mom put on Teagan’s, and added a cherry from a jar I found in the fridge.”
“I thought I put everything away so mom wouldn’t see and get angry, but I forgot about the jar and left it on the counter. The next morning, Toby and I woke up to Mom hollering for Dad to call 911. She was hysterical, crying and screaming into the phone while on her knees in the kitchen. Toby and I both tried to get to her to help, but dad stopped us. He was crying, and he never cried.”
My heart feels like a lump in my throat. Asking him to relive this painful memory makes me feel like an asshole.
“Teagan choked to death on a cherry,” he says, “Mom had every right to blame me that time. Next thing I knew, she was fighting about wanting me gone, but Dad refused. He told me it was an accident, and he stood up for me after Toby told him the truth about what I’d done. Dad held both of us in his arms as we cried, watching our mother pack her things and leave on the day of Teagan’s funeral. And she never came back. She birthed a monster. Dad and Toby chose a monster over her, and she couldn’t get over it. How could she when I killed my sister?”
His eyes are filled with unshed tears, but I’m fully and silently sobbing. Pouring out angry tears of frustration for the little version of Talon and sad tears for a boy who’s gone his whole life thinking he’s a murderer. “My only sister died because I couldn’t remember to put away a jar of fucking cherries.”
“You aren’t a monster, Talon. You made a mistake,” I tell him, running my hand through his hair and around his neck. “Her death is not your responsibility to carry, and I doubt your father thinks so either.”
He shakes his head and sits up, causing the bed to shift, “you didn’t see him after my mother left.”
“He was in love with her,” I argue, “anyone who lost a child to tragedy and then had their partner walk out would be wrecked. His heart was broken twice in a short amount of time.”
He swallows and looks at the ceiling.
Cupping his cheek, I tilt his face to me. Tears have made tracks down his cheeks as he looks at me with absolutely nothing guarding his eyes. He just told me everything, and he’s letting me see him cry.
“I’m sorry,” he says, sliding off the bed and standing, “I’m sorry I fucked this up. I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry your dad found you.”
“Talon,” I shake my head and wipe my tears, “you had–.”
“Those guys came after you because I had a twisted sense of morality even though I didn’t know you.”
“I already told you that wasn’t your fault, and Serge was going to come for me either way.”
He pulls at the roots of his hair with both hands, “I made it easy, Cin! I gave them a fucking map! If they would have killed you, that would have been my fault too.”
Crossing the bed on my knees, I throw my arms around his neck where he stands and hold him close to me, “but they didn’t.”
He lets loose a shaky breath. His arms come down around me as I squeeze him, and he squeezes me back.
“I swear, I’ll spend every second of every day that you’ll have me making it up to you.”
He allows me the space to lean back so I can look at him. “I’ll make sure to hold you to that.”
Bringing my lips to his, I gently lay a kiss there. His hands flex against my back, and I do it again, peppering him with kisses until it clicks that I’m here. That I’m not leaving.
I know the moment it happens, his arms band about my hips, and he kisses me back with abandon. His lips move in a sinful way, his tongue slipping into my mouth. One of his hands skates up my spine to the base of my neck, where it dives into my hair. Tangling the strands as his gasps takes my breath with each stroke of his tongue.
Moaning into his kiss I trail my hands over his shoulder, down his chest and stomach, but he stops me at his waistband.
“Cin.” he whispers on a heavy breath, “you don’t…”
“Shhhhh, I think we both need this,” I kiss him again, begging him without words to let me do this. He kisses me back, slowly releasing my wrists, and I reach between his skin and shorts. He’s already hard, and it makes me a little giddy to think that just us kissing does this to him.
His cock is warm and solid in my hand, and he shudders when I pump my fist up and down his length. Swiping my thumb over his tip, I smear the droplet of precum around his head and use it to slowly stroke him from base to tip.
He opens his mouth when I push his shorts down with my other hand, exposing him between us. I’m a little nervous to look down. My fingers almost don’t fit all the way around his girth, and judging by the way my hand moves, he’s also got plenty of length to work with.
Nerves like thousands of icicles assault my belly, but I want to do this for him. I want to make him feel as desired as he makes me feel.
Stepping off the bed, I force him to take a step back, and he tilts his head at me, eyes closing as I continue to stroke him. He makes a sound that fuels my yearning, giving me the courage I need to sink to my knees in front of him.
“Spice,” he pulls away and tucks himself back into his shorts.
“Please, Talon,” my stomach flips, and my shoulders curl in, “I want to taste you.”
He groans and stares up at the ceiling, “I told you, I don’t do gentle.”
“So use me,” I practically beg, “show me what you like, please.” I grip his hand with one of mine, causing him to look at me. “I swear I’ll tell you to stop if I think you’re going to hurt me.”
His face tells me he’s warring with himself, so I do the only thing I can think to do.
“I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel, I want to taste you on my tongue, I want to learn what you like so I can bring you as much pleasure as you bring me. I need to do this, Talon, please .”
He mumbles under his breath, “ fuck .”
And I know I’ve won. When he pushes his shorts down and frees his cock I swallow, he’s got a fantastic dick, but fuck if it isn’t intimidating as hell knowing it’s going to be in my mouth. I can’t help but admire that it’s well groomed, with veins that protrude from underneath, and I want to lick the trail of them.
“Open,” he says, and I fucking do. I open my mouth so quickly that I already have spit gathering in my mouth. “If I hurt you…”
“You won’t,” I stop him.
“If I do,” he continues, “tap my leg hard, okay?”
I nod, opening my mouth wide and sticking out my tongue.
“Good girl,” he praises, and I beam with pride. I haven’t done this with anyone, so I’m a little nervous I won’t be very good at it. He guides the tip onto my tongue and, without warning, thrusts his cock straight to the back of my throat.
Closing my lips around his shaft, I run my tongue over every inch that I can. He shivers and pulls out, only to thrust back in with a snap in his hips. I swallow around him and gag.
“Fuck,” he says, “look at me, baby.”
I do as he asks and feel my pussy start to contract and grow in wetness. His stare is intense and solely focused on me.
“I’m going to fuck your mouth, Spice,” he warns, and I nod around his cock. True to his words, he fucks my mouth, his cock sliding down my throat with each thrust. I gag and choke, but God, I love how messy it sounds and feels. Spit travels out of the corners of my lips, down my chin to the floor, and tears fall with it.
I moan when he groans, fucking thrilled that he’s enjoying himself and that I’m the one bringing him closer and closer to release. He wipes my tears from my cheeks with his thumb and pulls his cock from my mouth.
Pushing his thumb between my lips in its place, making me taste my own tears, he bends down so we’re eye to eye, “I’m going to cum, and I want you to swallow every last drop. Can you do that for me, baby?”
I nod, not trusting my voice to work, he grins and fuck, I think I could cum from that alone.
He holds my chin, slamming his cock into my mouth. I groan at the salty taste of him, the musky scent of him. Every sense is filled with Talon , and I fucking love it.
“Spice… yes. Just like that, I’m–” he warns, and I suck as hard as I can while he uses my mouth, “gonna…” he erupts, hot ropes of cum coat the back of my throat as I breathe through my nose as I swallow around his twitching cock. He keeps himself in my mouth as I lick and suck on the tip of him, eager for more. His legs are shaking, and I need friction so bad, but this is for him.
When he pulls out, I lick my lips, watching him as he stares at me.
“How was that?” I ask.
He hauls me to my feet and kisses me, hungry, carnal, not at all caring that I just swallowed his cum, and now he can taste it. Our teeth clack with the force, but he just readjusts and keeps kissing me.
“Like I want to throw you on this bed and devour you until you’re begging me to cum,” he breathes around quick, sharp breaths.
“That can come later. I promised you a truth,” I tell him, and he laughs.