CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A sensation cut into my dream, slicing through the tableau of images. A sensation that was uncomfortable. Intense. Building.
I shot to full wakefulness as my heart started thumping hard in my chest and a familiar crackly energy filled my veins.
Feelings were rushing through me. The same emotions I felt before or during a battle. Anticipation. Determination. Exhilaration. A trickle of fear.
Restless and overstimulated, I couldn’t simply lie there. Couldn’t stay still. I threw back my blanket and got out of bed, my movements rushed and jerky.
A sconce came to life, and I saw Talon blinking up at me, his head raised from his pillow.
My fingers twitched. “I need to get out of this room awhile,” I blurted out, my words coming a little too fast.
His eyes narrowing, he sat upright, his chest deliciously bare.
“I’ll be back soon, I just—” I stopped as he shook his head. “I’ll be fine, I’m not going to wander around; just hang in the living area.”
Again, he shook his head, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
I absently fisted my tunic and twisted the material.
“Look, I’m not going to be able to get to sleep anytime soon.
If I stay in here, I’ll pace and pace and pace.
I don’t expect you to understand what I’m feeling right now, but it’s …
I can’t stay here.” I needed to do something; needed somewhere for all this energy and emotion to go.
But, once more, he shook his damn head.
I snapped my mouth shut, my scalp going hot and prickly as anger surged through me. I wanted to lunge at him. Bite him. Scream in his face.
I did none of those things.
I instead headed for the door and—
He appeared in front of me, and I stumbled to a halt. Gods, he was fast.
His expression a dare, he placed the handle of a scythe in my hand and then conjured a sword.
Interest stirred in my belly as he took a few steps back and raised his blade, his body poised to fight. He was offering me an outlet for my restlessness, I realized. And I very much wanted to snatch up that offer. But … “The noise will echo,” I pointed out. “People will come running.”
Another shake of his head.
“You’ve done something to nullify the sound in here?”
He nodded.
I felt my mouth kick up just a little. “All right.”
I’d never sparred with him before, but I’d observed him spar officiates in the courtyard; had seen him fight during the attacks on Deimos. And I had not one expectation of winning a battle of blades with him. He was too fast. Too skilled. Too strong.
But what I could do was what I most needed to do: rid myself of all the jittery energy in my system.
So I flew at him. I didn’t hold back, knowing there was no danger of me landing a hit. I struck out again and again, swinging the scythe this way and that.
Our blades loudly clashed as he parried every blow. At times, he’d go on the attack, forcing me to defend myself rather than simply lash out—he wanted me to have to think, I sensed; wanted to mentally drain me, knowing the restlessness would be assaulting both my body and mind.
I wouldn’t say he took it easy on me—not even close. That wasn’t Talon’s style. But he didn’t move at superfast speed; didn’t use his immense strength against me.
Even so, he was still far too quick and powerful for me to take on. I didn’t care. At no point did I feel any need to hurt, win, or overpower him. I just wanted to feel normal again. So I kept swinging and striking, calling on everything I’d been taught.
He struck, ducked, swerved, blocked, grunted.
He also occasionally tapped my ass with his blade—his punishing version of a That was an unwise move. Then he’d go at me harder, forcing me to up my game, but never so hard that I was overwhelmed and needed to stop—allowing me to use up the energy raging through my body.
I swung. Blocked. Swung. Blocked. Swung. Blocked. I did it until my muscles burned, my hands were hot, and my shoulders ached from the weight of the scythe.
It was a rush to be able to let all the unnatural energy go. A rush to release it in such a way. It—
I stumbled, losing my footing.
He acted quickly, looping an arm around me and hauling me upright. No, not just upright. He hauled me against him.
We both froze—our fronts pressed together, our faces inches apart, our breaths clashing.
His eyelids drooped as his gaze locked on mine with a deadly intensity. My pulse skittered as need pooled in his night-sky eyes, making them go impossibly darker; turning the gold swishes brighter and more vivid.
I licked my lips, overwhelmingly conscious of his heat, his scent, the press of his solid chest against my breasts, the iron-strength in the arm curled around me, the hardness of his muscular thighs.
The atmosphere tautened, thickened, and purred with the promise that pulsed between us. A promise of how good it would be to give in, to take, to gorge.
But he didn’t.
He also didn’t release me. He held me tight, his body stiff. Every soft pulse of his breath lightly fanned my mouth, waking up all the nerve-endings there.
I felt his tension. Felt his hunger. Felt his hesitance.
And then I felt him harden against me.
I sucked in a breath. The dig of his cock against my abdomen made my stomach tighten with an almost painful excitement. Some interesting places began to warm and tingle as need became an official drumbeat in my veins—as raw and feral as the man in front of me.
A growing frustration bloomed in his expression. I could see a battle playing out behind his eyes; could sense him wrestling with himself. All the while, I stared at him, my mouth going dry, caught in the grip of a basic, elemental hunger that refused to let go.
Though I knew how good it would feel to act on this unrelenting attraction, I didn’t want anything to happen between us if he’d begrudge that he’d given in. “You should let me go if you’ll only later resent that you didn’t.” I lightly pushed on his chest.
A low growl grated the back of his throat, making my body go still. His jaw tightened, his eyes went slitted, his lips set into a pitiless slash … and then he brought his mouth down on mine.
He kissed me hard and deep. No hesitance. No caution. No reserve.
Our blades hit the floor as we went at each other like savages. There was nothing civil or sensual about it.
Hands roughly fisted my hair as he herded me backwards and caged me against the wall, his mouth never releasing mine. I arched into him, grinding against his cock. I was wound so tight from anticipation that I thought I might explode.
The molten brand in his kiss, the scald of his demanding mouth, the hungry strokes of his tongue, the sharp nips of his teeth … It was almost too much.
Almost.
Talon pumped his hips once, letting me know he wanted in. Oh, fine by me.
He pulled back just enough to roughly peel off my tunic.
My breast band went with a sharp yank that nearly tore it.
I’d barely tackled the laces of his breeches before strong hands caught the underside of my thighs and lifted me like I weighed nothing.
He pressed my back firmly against the wall and plunged two fingers inside me.
I gasped, watching as male satisfaction flashed in his eyes when he found me wet. His fingers disappeared. He swiped the thick head of his dick between my folds—
And he slammed deep with shocking force.
I choked, startled by the abrupt fullness. There was no room to feel anything but pure pleasure because then he was fucking me with purposeful thrusts. Delving a hand into his hair, I clung to the smooth flesh of his back with my free hand, feeling the solid muscle beneath it rippling and bunching.
His fingers bit into my thighs, unapologetically rough as he held them wide open. Every upward snap of his hips made his cock graze my clit just right.
Our mouths collided again, greedy and unrestrained. The sensual hunger whirling in my stomach was brutal. Almost as brutal as his frenzied thrusts.
The whole thing was feral and basic. Sex at its most raw. And a little too perfect.
A feverish tension steadily worked through my body. I could sense it building in him just the same—sense it in how his kisses deepened, his grip tightened, and his pace quickened.
My chest prickling with the need for air, I tore my mouth free of his and dragged in a breath. He pressed his forehead to mine, grunting against my lips as he started to fuck me harder. I moaned, clinging to him tighter, stabbing my nails into his back.
He snarled and bit my bottom lip. The lash of pain went straight to my core—a core that was heating and aching. Friction built in my belly and clawed at my insides as my frustrated body screamed for release. Screamed and screamed and screamed until, finally, it found it.
Scorching hot waves of static bliss whipped through my body, emptied my mind of every thought, and wrenched a choked cry out of my throat.
It was as the first wave crested that he started violently hammering into me, an animalistic sound rumbling in his chest. Hot streams of come lashed my inner walls as he locked his cock deep.
He flexed his hips, grinding and grunting.
Dropping his forehead to the crook of my neck, he sagged slightly. I ungracefully slumped in his hold, resting my cheek on his shoulder.
Making an effort to control my breathing, I took stock of myself.
No more restless energy buzzed inside me.
Not even a flicker of it. I wasn’t sure if our little battle was responsible for that, or if it was courtesy of our rather intense round of sex.
It might have even been the combination of both that did the trick.
Talon lifted his head, his slumberous gaze. There was no regret to be seen, but there was a distance that had moments ago been absent. Like last time, he was pulling away.
He carefully withdrew his cock and then set me down on my feet.
Hoping he couldn’t tell that my legs were a little wobbly, I cleared my throat. “I’m guessing we’re going to act like this never happened.”
Nothing in his expression contradicted my assumption.
I inwardly sighed. “Thought so. Careful, or I might get offended.”
He granted me a dubious look.
“Okay, fine, it suits me that we keep this to ourselves,” I admitted.
“I don’t want people whispering that I slept with you in a vain effort to get a place in the Order.
But”—I took a step closer to him, feeling my expression sober—“soon I’ll be an officiate, and that won’t apply anymore.
If this happened again, I wouldn’t care who knew.
You, though? I get the sense that you would carry on doing this dance where you fuck me and then act like you didn’t. ” I cocked my head. “Am I right?”
Again, he didn’t deny my assumption.
I couldn’t lie, it stung a little. I stared at him, trying to figure out what his deal was.
If I hadn’t heard stories of him sharing a bed with others, I might have wondered if he simply liked keeping his sexual activities private.
But it couldn’t be that. Nor could it be that he was idiotically ashamed about bedding someone who was mortal—he was emotionally committed to a mortal.
Whatever the case, I deserved more. Better.
There was no point in being angry with him for not being willing to give me ‘better,’ though.
It wasn’t like he’d made me promises or hinted at having anything to offer me.
Uncomplicated sex was all he ever wanted, no matter who his bed partner happened to be, unless it was Eva.
I’d known that in advance. But … yeah, I was done.
“If that’s how you feel, that’s how you feel.” It wasn’t exactly his fault. “But I’m not interested in being someone’s dirty secret, Talon. Don’t touch me again unless you’re prepared to stop treating me like that’s all I’m worth.”
Suspecting that he would roll his eyes like I was being dramatic, I skirted around him and walked away so I wouldn’t have to see it. I grabbed a cloth from my knapsack, cleaned myself up, pulled on my tunic, and slipped back into bed—all without looking at him.
Facing the wall, I burrowed under the blanket as I listened to him pottering around.
The room fell dark, and I closed my eyes.
My stomach was not churning at the knowledge that he’d never again touch me.
I was not at all hurt that he didn’t seem to view me as worth more than this.
And I would for certain shake off this attraction somehow—I was going to make a concentrated effort to do so, starting from tomorrow.