Chapter 22
Talon
Lava burns through my blood, my body strung tight with a lust so intense it drowns out everything else.
I gasp air into my lungs in ragged breaths, but all I can smell is her.
All I can see is her—wet, open, glistening between her thighs. Her sweet, musky scent hits me hard, making my hands shake. I should stop. I don’t. I can’t.
My head empties as everything rushes south, my cock hard to the point of pain.
This can’t be real.
It feels like something I’ve imagined too many times—late at night, alone, hand wrapped around myself. Any second now, I’ll wake up and she’ll be gone.
Just me. My fist. Nothing else.
“Please, Tal…” she moans, spreading herself wider, fingers sliding over her clit. “Please.”
“God…” The word tears out of me. There’s no resisting that sound. No resisting her.
Whatever restraint I might still have had is gone.
Something pulls me forward—some need, or hunger, or something deeper, that tightens every muscle in my body. Takes me over.
I move closer, drawn in by the rhythm of her movements, the soft, broken sounds she makes.
A low growl leaves my throat, and I barely recognize it as mine. I wouldn’t care if the world ended right now.
My breath ghosts over her skin as I lower my head, my tongue brushing her thigh, tasting her.
Fuck…
I don’t have words for it. She’s warm, sweet, intoxicating.
I press closer, breathing her in like I need it to survive.
When my tongue finally touches her, she cries out, her body arching as she fists my hair. “More.”
More.
The word hits me wrong for a second—sharp, uncertain.
More how?
I’ve been with women before, but not like this. Not with her. Not with something that feels this consuming. I’m not Luke. Not smooth. Not confident. I don’t have history with her like Reid does.
All I have is this—this need.
And somehow, she still wants me.
I can’t screw this up.
“Please,” she begs again.
I breathe her in, forcing myself to focus. Don’t rush. Listen.
I part her slowly with my tongue. She gasps, her whole body lifting as I flick upward, brushing her clit.
Again.
Then I linger beneath it, feeling it swell against me.
Her grip tightens in my hair, holding me there, silently demanding more.
I almost smile—and then I give myself to her.
Slow at first. Circling. Teasing. Drawing it out just to hear those sounds spill from her lips.
She pulls at my hair, trying to guide me, but I keep my pace, letting the tension build.
She likes it. The push and pull. The edge of control.
“Come on, Tal,” she breathes. “Just do it.”
“Relax,” I murmur. “Lie back.”
“I can’t… I’m burning up.”
“Me too, baby.” The word slips out before I can stop it. “Lie back.”
She does, barely.
I don’t hold back anymore.
I flick, then suck, drawing her clit into my mouth.
“Oh fuck…” Her hand tangles in the hay beside her head.
I could devour her in seconds—but I don’t. I hold her there instead, stretching it out, exploring her.
Learning what makes her shake, what makes her gasp.
I alter the pressure, the rhythm, the speed.
Her scent thickens. Her sounds break apart.
Her thighs start to tremble, the movement spreading through her whole body as she edges closer.
I could stay here forever.
Watching her. Tasting her. Feeling her come undone under me.
She’s a mess—hair wild, chest heaving, lips bitten red—and I’ve never seen anything more perfect.
She looks down at me, and our eyes meet.
“Talon…” she breathes, like she’s seeing me differently now.
Maybe she is.
Previously, perhaps I was just a means to an end—a body she could use to get off. But now?
Now I’m the one exploring her, mapping her, burning every reaction into my memory like I’ll need it forever.
I love this.
The thought hits me hard and fast.
I love her.
It’s insane. I realize that. I hardly know her. But it settles into me anyway, rooting deep.
I’ve never felt anything like this before. Not during sex. Not ever. Nothing that’s hit this hard, this fast, this completely.
And it’s not just lust.
It’s that pull we’ve had since the beginning.
From the moment we met, she didn’t feel like a stranger.
She felt like…
I shut the thought down before it can finish.
My heart pounds as I drag my tongue lower, pressing into her, tasting her deeper, hotter.
Her body reacts instantly, clenching around me, and the sensation hits like a shockwave.
I do it again, chasing it, one hand dropping to grip my cock through my jeans.
Fuck—I’m close.
My whole body tightens, my control slipping as I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting the urge to finish right here.
Her scent, her taste—it’s enough to push me over.
But not like this.
This isn’t about me.
It’s about her.
I push a finger into her, and she tightens around it immediately.
Fuck.
I lose some of my control then, my movements turning rougher, more desperate. But she meets it, her body opening, pulling me in as she cries out.
I give in to it, picking up the pace, devouring her the way I’ve imagined too many times.
“Oh my God, Tal…” Her thighs clamp around my head, and I grab them, holding her in place as I push closer. “Tal, I’m going to come.”
It sounds like a warning.
It feels like a promise.
I bury my face against her, breathing her in, losing myself in it.
If I could stay here forever, I would.
If this was the last thing I ever felt, I’d die happy.
“Tal!” She moves against me, harder now, her control slipping as the sounds she makes fall apart into breath and need. She’s right there—but she needs one more push.
I reach up, grabbing her breast, rolling her nipple between my fingers.
At the same time, I change the rhythm—faster, sharper—pushing her over the edge.
She cries out, her body tightening hard as she comes, hips jerking against me.
I don’t stop.
Something in me won’t let me.
Her release only feeds it, driving me harder, deeper into it.
She trembles, her body still moving, still wanting, and I follow it, pushing her higher again.
She comes a second time, weaker but just as intense, her body shuddering through it.
Only when she taps at me, weak and breathless, do I pull back.
She lies there, collapsed, gasping, flushed and shaking. Hair stuck to her skin, chest rising and falling fast.
A complete mess.
The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
My cock throbs painfully in my jeans, reminding me I haven’t finished. My whole body feels wound too tight, like I might snap.
All I can think about is taking her.
But she looks wrecked. Used up in the best way.
And I can’t do that to her now.
I shouldn’t have done any of this.
As some sense finally cuts through, I push to my feet and turn away from her.
“I’m sorry. You should… uh…” I clear my throat. “You should go.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, voice rough.
No. Don’t go. Stay. Let me take you apart completely.
I nod anyway. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
I hear her moving behind me, pulling her clothes back on. Standing.
Then she steps closer. “I mean, if you want, we can—”
“Go,” I snap.
She flinches. The shift in the air is immediate.
“I’m sorry, too.” she says quietly, and then she’s gone.
I stand there, eyes shut tight, regret clawing up my throat.
You did it.
You pushed her away.
You absolute fucking idiot.
Sierra doesn’t seek me out after that. The next day, she comes by for her car, but the whole thing is tense, awkward. She mumbles an apology for what happened, and I mutter something back to make it clear she’s not at fault.
I am.
For losing control.
For getting my mouth on her and then pushing her away like it meant nothing.
I tell myself I did the right thing. She’s here to heal, not to get tangled up in sex.
I hear Reid’s voice in my head, all that HR bullshit about boundaries and professionalism.
But none of that is the real reason.
The truth is, she scares the hell out of me.
I feel things for her I’ve never felt before, and I don’t know what to do with them. It’s easier to shut it down. Avoid her. Pretend none of it happened.
Except… I still have to see her.
I expect she’s with Luke.
Laughing. Smiling. Easy.
It twists something in my chest every time. Because deep in my heart I know the truth. Luke’s exactly the kind of man she belongs with. Someone like him. Confident. Social. Someone who fits into her world without effort.
Not someone like me.
No doubt she probably does like him better. He’s so much easier to be around, I know that. Maybe she only came to me because he wasn’t available right then.
I try to push it all down, but it doesn’t go anywhere. It just builds. The jealousy. The regret. The constant ache sitting under my skin.
I keep to myself. Decide it’s best to stay out of everyone’s way. Nurse my wounds in silence. That way I can’t do anything else stupid.
Of course, Luke doesn’t get the message.
“Hey,” he says, stepping into the shed early one morning while I’m shaping a nice piece of timber that will eventually become part of a dining table. “Reid wants you to check the heater in Bedroom Three.”
I grunt. I’ll deal with it later.
“Did you hear me, buddy?”
“I heard you. Now fuck off.”
“Well, I can’t fuck off because I asked you a question and you didn’t answer it.”
His tone’s off today. Sharper. Like he’s looking for something to push against.
This could escalate.
Part of me wants it to.
I adjust the plane slightly in my hands, saying nothing.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he goes on. “Did you fuck a bear last night or what?”
No, I almost fucked the only woman who means anything to me. I think to myself, but I decide to ignore him. Fucking asshole.
“Let me guess,” he says. “You woke up and decided you hate everyone. One of your bad days? Then again, you don’t really have good ones, do you? God, I don’t know how we put up with you.”
I let it slide. Let it hit and pass. Even as something darker starts to rise underneath.
“Hey, asshole, I’m talking to you.”
He grabs my shoulder to turn me around… and that’s it.
Everything snaps.
Almost in slow motion, I see myself putting down the plane, swinging my bunched fist, and catching him clean across the mouth.