28. Reed
Chapter twenty-eight
Reed
Silver moonlight dances across the brush of the forest, illuminating my way as I stalk through the night. Our rules are simple—Thalia hides while I try to find her. Whoever gets to the other first is victorious.
Is it a good idea to play this game with a trained assassin that I’ve seen in action? Probably not. At least ninety-five percent insane, actually.
But it’s the thrill we both love. She gets to exercise her skills, and I get to praise her for all her hard work. It’s a win-win.
Something overhead rustles, and I stop dead in my tracks. I listen to the sounds of the forest settling around me, and when I no longer hear the movement from above, I continue walking. Then the skin on my nape crawls as cold sweat slides down my back.
Wait.
She can probably climb trees—oh, fuck me.
Something knocks into me from above, sending me down to the ground so hard I almost bite the soil. Literally. Legs wrap around me as Thalia’s hands press into my shoulder blades. She giggles as she leans forward and nips at my earlobe.
“You cheated,” I wheeze.
“I adapted.” She shifts her weight, and I feel her smile against the shell of my ear. “The best hunters always do. How does it feel, Reed? Being prey?”
Her fingers on my upper back tighten just enough to make me groan.
“Answer me.”
“It feels—” I swallow. “Like I’m exactly where I wanted to be.”
She laughs—a low, throaty sound that vibrates through her chest and into my back. “Liar. You wanted to be the one pinning me. But your pulse is going wild. Your hips just twitched. You’re hard against the ground, aren’t you?”
She grinds her knee into my spine, torturing me.
“Yes,” I manage.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I’m hard.”
She releases me, but I don’t move. Her knee lifts from my back, and she flips me over with an ease that makes my head spin. Suddenly she’s straddling my hips, her thighs bracketing me like a vise. The moonlight catches her face—sharp cheekbones, pale eyes glittering, and that siren smile.
She’s still fully clothed—black tactical pants, a fitted shirt that hugs the lean muscle of her arms and shoulders. A sheen of sweat glints at her collarbone and her long, dark hair is mussed from the forty minutes we’ve been wandering around out here.
I feel utterly exposed. My thin shirt has risen up my torso and my belt is already undone—when had she done that?
“You’re so easy,” she murmurs, running her palm down my chest. Her fingers find the hem of my shirt and push it higher, baring my chest. “One little chase and you’re already surrendering.”
“You said you would go easy on me.”
“And you believed me.” She leans down, her lips hovering just above mine. “That’s adorable.”
She kisses me. Hard.
Her mouth is demanding, her tongue sliding past my lips before I can even think to respond. She tastes of mint and everything holy in the world. Her teeth catch my lower lip and tug, just enough to elicit a groan from me.
My hands find her hips. The tactical fabric is rough under my palms, and I can feel the coiled strength of her through it. She rocks against me once—a slow, deliberate grind that drags a sound from somewhere deep in my chest.
“No,” she says, breaking the kiss.
“No?” I pant.
“You don’t get to touch yet.” She catches both my wrists and pins them above my head. Her grip is like iron. “You chased me. I caught you. That means I decide how this goes.”
Everything is making my head swim—the pressure from her above, the look in her eyes that makes me weak in the knees, and her heat.
“Do you understand?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
My cock is aching now, pressing against the zipper of my jeans, and the friction of her weight is doing nothing to help. “Yes, Little Devil.”
“Good boy.”
She releases one of my wrists—the left one—and reaches down between us. Her fingers work the button of my jeans with practiced efficiency. The sound of my zipper is obscenely loud in the quiet forest.
Then her hand is inside my boxers, and I forget how to breathe.
Her palm is calloused and warm. She wraps her fingers around my shaft and squeezes—not gently, but with the same deliberate pressure she’s using on my wrist.
Ownership.
“You’re leaking already,” she observes, her thumb spreading the bead of moisture at the tip. “We’ve barely started.
“I’m—ah—” She strokes once, slow and tight, and my sentence dissolves into a gasp.
“What was that?” she asks, her tone mock-innocent.
“I’ve been hard,” I force out. “For the last hour.”
Another stroke; her hand twisting at the head. “Aw, are you going to whimper for me?”
My hips buck desperately. She laughs, low and dark, and presses her free hand flat against my chest to hold me still.
“Look at me,” she commands.
Her eyes are nearly black in the moonlight now, with her pupils blown wide. Her lips are parted on her ragged, heavy breaths. On the surface, she looks calm, but I know her tells—the slight tremor in her thighs, the flush creeping up her throat—and they make my heart hammer harder.
She wants this as much as I do.
“Thalia,” I breathe. “Please.”
“Please, what?”
“Touch me. More. I need—”
Her hand tightens. “You need?”
The words don’t come. She strokes again, faster now, and my thoughts scatter. All I can do is stare up at her—this woman who could kill me in a dozen ways but chooses instead to reduce me to gasping syllables.
“You’re beautiful like this,” she says, and her voice has lost its teasing edge. “Under me and desperate. Like you belong here, Reed.”
She shifts backward, releasing my cock with a final, lingering squeeze that makes me groan in protest.
“Don’t worry.” She stands towering over me. The moonlight silhouetting her. “I’m not done with you.”
Her hands go to her tactical pants as her thin fingers work quickly. She pulls the button free in one smooth motion and lets it drop to the pine needles.
“You wanted to chase me,” she whispers, stepping out of the pants. “You wanted to catch me. But this—this—is what you really wanted, isn’t it? To be caught and taken.”
She kneels again, straddling me. The heat of her wet pussy slides over me, making my hands shoot to her hips as I grind against her desperately.
“Admit it,” she croons, reaching down to position me.
The head of my cock presses against her entrance. She rocks once, twice, sliding her soaked pussy along my length.
“Admit it, Reed.”
“Yes,” I gasp. “Yes, I wanted this. I wanted you to win.”
Her smile is slow and sharp. “I know.”
She sinks down onto me, taking every inch. It’s just the sudden, overwhelming heat of her—tight and slick and consuming. My back arches off the forest floor as sound escapes unbidden past my lips.
“There,” she breathes, her head falling back. “There you are.”
She begins to move, and my vision goes white.
Her rhythm is merciless from the start. Our skin slaps together with every slam of her onto my lap.
She rides me with the same precision she brings to everything—controlled and devastating.
Her hips roll in a figure-eight that makes my fingers bite harshly into her flesh.
Her thighs flex against my hips and her nails rake down my chest, leaving lines of fire.
“Look at you,” she breathes. “Taking all of me. Such a good—”
Her rhythm falters, just for a second, and I feel the flutter of her around me. Her mask slips, and her mouth falls open on a scream.
I take the opening, gripping her thighs and thrusting up into her harder and faster than her rhythm. She gasps as her eyes meet mine, and for a moment we’re just two people in the dark, tangled and desperate for each other.
“Harder,” she orders. “Don’t you dare hold back.”
So I don’t. I drive into her and the sounds we make together are obscene—wet and urgent, echoing off the pines.
She braces her hands on my shoulders to anchor herself as she meets every thrust with her own.
Sweat slicks her collarbones, and the moonlight catches the curve of her throat as she throws her head back.
“Reed,” she gasps. “I’m—”
Her inner muscles clench in a warning. I keep going, bouncing her on my lap as the breath skates past my lips raggedly. My spine is beginning to tingle with my release, and I drag her close to me.
“Together,” I growl.
She presses her forehead to mine, her eyes rolling back as everything fucking reaches a head and we both lose ourselves in the pleasure.
She writhes over me, her pussy clenching me so tightly that it’s milking every drop.
We both stop, panting against one another as the scent of fresh soil wraps around us.
I gently lay Thalia’s head down on my chest, smoothing a hand down her hair as I stare up at the stars.
“I win,” she gasps.
I chuckle, my whole chest shaking. “You sure do.”