56. Hers
HERS
TALIA
This warrior is sworn to the lar Valtaren line. If by blade or breath or death he may deliver them, it is already given.
Talia couldn’t shut any of it off.
Dawn’s grief. Elanwei’s fury. The ghost of Lore’s fingers on her skin, and the quicksand pull of Holloway’s loss. Every emotion in the citadel scraped raw against her nerves, until she couldn’t tell what was hers.
She’d scrubbed herself clean in cold water and pulled on silk pajamas from Elanwei’s wardrobe. They were the only clothes that hadn’t disintegrated.
Now she sat on a balcony over the gardens, buried in cushions and blankets she’d dragged here herself. The morning air bit her bare ankles, and it helped. The sting felt real.
She flinched when she heard footsteps.
Riven filled the doorway, shirtless, pants loose around his hips. The silver glyphs across his chest glowed faintly in the firstlight.
“You look like you want to be alone,” he said quietly.
“I wouldn’t mind company.”
He hesitated before stepping outside. “It would be understandable after yesterday. Taking time for yourself.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Talia sighed. “I can hear every heartbeat in this cursed city. There’s no alone.”
He lowered himself cross-legged beside her but stayed at arm’s length. “There are only three heartbeats in this city,” he said softly. “One of them’s mine.”
It held a question, an offer to leave.
She wanted him to wrap his arms around her, and she wanted him to go away. She reached for his hand before she could think too hard about it. She traced his knuckles, each tendon and raised scar.
“I feel everything,” she whispered. “Dawn’s heart is breaking, and it’s right here, in my own chest. I tried to help her, but—I’m not sure I’m capable.”
She was shaking. He was going to think she was broken. Too much. Too strange. But he didn’t pull away. He just drew a slow breath and went still.
She felt it right away. The noise around them folded in like a tide drawing back. The static in her body eased. For the first time in days, she could breathe. She’d been so afraid he would be another person to drown in. This was the opposite.
“How—”
“It’s my affinity. I’m a shield.” A crooked, apologetic smile.
She laughed. “I could have used this a while ago.”
“I wish I’d known. How do you feel?”
She didn’t know. She drew in a slow breath, feeling the air in her lungs. Listening to her own ragged exhale.
“I feel like a swarm of bees just flew away, and I didn’t realize how loud they were buzzing,” she said, then immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry, that doesn’t make sense.”
“You make perfect sense,” he said in a low rumble. “And you apologize too much. Get some rest, Talia. It’ll stay quiet for as long as you need.” He started to pull away, but she reached for his arm.
“Stay,” she said. Then, after a pause, “You promised you wouldn’t make me ask.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, but he settled back into the cushions.
Talia’s body felt like it was sparkling. Sunlight was just breaking through the clouds in wide diagonal lines, so beautiful it looked made-up. Like a painting. When she met Riven’s gray eyes, it felt a little hard to breathe.
Was it just a few minutes ago she’d wanted to be alone?
She reached forward, hesitated, then pressed a hand to his chest. Testing the silence. Waiting for the noise to come roaring back. He tipped his chin down, watching her fingers slip through the wiry hair.
He went still for a moment, just looking at her. His jaw tightened. Then he traced one hand up her stomach, mirroring the speed and pressure of her touch.
Each sensation was hers alone: the scrape of his calloused hands through the fabric, the catch of her breath.
She ran a finger up over his shoulder, watching the sigils light up under her fingertips, fading from blue to silver as she traced them.
This warrior is sworn to the lar Valtaren line…
Riven cleared his throat. “Are you reading my shoulder?”
“Shit, sorry,” she said, feeling her face flush.
“Stop. Apologizing.” His voice was a growl, but he was chuckling softly under each word. She’d give anything to know what he was thinking.
She glanced down and was surprised by the thick outline straining against his pants. Her empathy usually alerted her to that level of desire, but the air was clear. He followed her gaze.
“Ignore that,” he said, shifting his weight and tugging the fabric loose. His fingers traced the thin straps of her silk camisole. “What would make you feel better?”
She fought to keep from glancing back down. He’d looked—big. “I don’t know. I can’t tell what you want, so I’m not sure where to start.”
He stilled. His expression softened.
“Talia.” He slipped a finger under her chin and tilted her head up to meet his eyes. “Has it always been loud for you? When you’re with someone?”
She bit her lip and nodded. The only time she hadn’t been distracted by her partner’s emotions was that time with Lore, when he’d nearly erased her.
Riven swore under his breath, then he looked her over. “But it’s quiet now?”
She nodded.
“Okay. Fuck. Come here.”
She pressed her fingers into his outstretched hands and he tugged her closer. He slid her glasses off, folded them carefully, and set them aside before asking, “May I kiss you?”
As an answer, she sat up on her knees and kissed him first. His mouth was wide and soft, and his beard tickled her face. His hands fell to her hips, tugging her against his chest.
The kiss was slow and long and searching. His hands roamed around her ass and up her back, gentle and curious.
His body pressed through her silk pajamas—ridges of muscle, a very thick erection—and she pushed into him, chasing more contact. She’d spent so long managing everyone else’s need, she hadn’t known she had this much of her own.
He pulled back. “Hey, I’ve got you.” He ran his fingers through her hair and searched her face. “If this is too much, or not right, just say something.”
Too much? She glanced down, but instead of baring himself, he tugged her forward until she was straddling his hips. They were both wearing pants, but the fabric was thin enough to feel everything between them.
“Oh gods,” she gasped, pressing her lips together and looking up at the sky.
“Hey,” he said. “It’s okay. Just take what you need.”
Her hips were already rocking, and a whimper slipped out. She should feel embarrassed by her raw need, how frantically she moved on him, but the burning pleasure racing down her legs was too good. She pressed forward, dragging herself over the whole hard length of him.
“You’re doing so good,” Riven said, kissing the end of her nose. “How does that feel?”
She twisted her hips and felt the tip of him slip up just inside her, fabric and all. A jolt shot through her, there and gone. Not enough. She needed to give him more. She placed one of his hands on her breast and guided him to pinch it. Her nipple hardened between his rough fingers and he groaned.
“You can have it. Whatever you want,” she gasped. Her whole body felt warm inside, a deep, loose sensation. She wanted him to feel that good too.
He squeezed her breast, then dropped both hands to her hips and lifted her back to where she’d been. “Let’s start here,” he said. “We’ve got time.”
It did feel good, the press and pulse of him, the gentle rock of his hips, his calloused hands scraping down her back.
She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the way each ridge of his cock made her body shudder as she raked over him.
She kept waiting for the next thing to do, and worry ate away at the edge of her joy.
“Isn’t this frustrating for you?” she finally asked, bracing both hands on his solid chest and watching the sigils flare.
“Absolutely fucking not.” He laughed, and the vibration rumbled through both their bodies. “Do you know how sexy it is, watching you take what you need? Knowing I can do this for you?”
His mouth found her jaw, the curve of her throat, unhurried. Like he knew where he wanted to be and wasn’t in any rush to get there.
It felt like the world was telescoping down to this, the pressure between her legs, the rhythm of their bodies, the rasp of his beard against her cheek. She was almost entirely present.
“What can I do”—she gasped—“for you?”
“You’re doing it,” he said, a little breathless. “Ride me, just like this. Tell me what you like.”
He wrapped his hands around her hipbones, and they were so large they nearly circled her waist. Then he pressed his thumbs into the sensitive area at top of her mound.
“That,” she breathed, surprising herself. She’d never known what she enjoyed clearly enough to ask. “Do more of that. Please.”
He hummed, and she moaned and rocked harder. She was close now. His thumbs kept pressing in slow circles as his thick shaft throbbed between them.
“Can I take this off?” He slipped a finger beneath the strap of her camisole. She nodded, and he drew it over her head before tossing it aside. They were both bare now, and she found herself just—looking at him. He was looking back. It felt more intimate than anything she could remember.
“I’ll tell you what I want,” he said, as if he knew she’d just keep trying to guess. His eyes slid over her, and a smile drew deep lines around his mouth and eyes. “There are so many things.”
He ran one hand, slowly, down her neck. Along the sensitive edge of her breast. His thumb tweaked her nipple, drawing a squeak, before falling back to that place between her legs.
“I’m dying to hear every sound you make. To know how you taste. But what I really want”—he paused to kiss her again, drawing her into his chest—“is to take my time with you.”
She didn’t need to read his emotions after all. He was telling her everything she needed to know. He saw her—she could feel it in every careful, deliberate touch—and he wanted her. All of her.
It all hit, all at once, and she stopped trying to be quiet.
The sound that came out of her was guttural and indecent, and she didn’t care at all.
She grabbed Riven’s shoulders, pulled him closer, and writhed gracelessly.
His solid arms just wrapped around her and held her close, tipping back just a little to help her ride it out.
She felt weightless and electric, like a cloud just past the verge of storming. There were tears on her face.
No one else’s pleasure crested next to hers. She had nothing to prove or perform. Just wave after wave of pure sensation that belonged to her alone, and Riven’s broad hands steady at her back, holding her up as she came apart.
She felt giddy. Her pleasure. Her desire. Her body. It was all hers.
“Thank you,” she whispered when she could talk again. “That was—I’ve never felt anything like that.”
He was grinning. “Good. That was the idea.”
He helped her shift down so she was lying against his chest. She pressed her face into his shoulder, and he kissed the top of her head. His hand moved in slow circles on her bare back, absentminded, like he couldn’t help it. She didn't want him to stop.
The silence felt like a gift. Just the morning air, the warmth of his skin against hers. For the first time in her life, pleasure hadn’t felt like surrender.
“Feel better?” he asked, handing her back her glasses.
She smiled faintly. “Almost.”
“Oh no.” His fingers were in her hair now, gentle and reverent. “What else can I do?”
“No, not that. It just won’t stay like this. Nothing like this ever lasts.”
He pulled her closer. “Then we’ll make the most of it while we have it. And if we lose it, we’ll get it back.”
She closed her eyes, letting his words settle in her chest.
A soft sound drifted up from the gardens below, first one birdsong, then another. Talia relaxed and listened as the new morning found its voice, clean and bright against the silence in her head.