Page 21 of Before the Bond Breaks
“Alone.” My voice came out rougher than I meant, my wolf prowling at the question.
Her lips curved faintly, sharp and deliberate. “Good. Take me there.”
For a moment, all the air left my lungs. As the noise of the club faded, the weight of plans and war fell away. It was only her, her eyes, her words.
Mine. My wolf surged forward, hungry and wild, and I knew there was no universe where I’d deny her.
“Gladly.”
13
MAZE
Talon’s housesmelled like him—cedar, smoke, faint whiskey, and something wilder. A fire flared to life in the hearth, throwing soft light across the space, catching on dark wood floors and leather. It was warm, lived in. And somehow, that unsettled me more than if it had been a sterile den.
I stepped further in, fingers trailing across the back of his couch. “This is where you hide?”
“Not hiding,” he said, shutting the door behind us. “Waiting.”
Two centuries. I’d spent them building walls. He’d spent them biding his time. My heart clenched.And now we’re here.
I turned and noted that he was watching me as if I might vanish. His restraint was a physical thing, wrapping tight around his frame, holding his wolf back because he thought I needed space.
But I was done with space.
I crossed the distance, pressing my palms against his chest, feeling the solid heat of him through his shirt. His heartbeatthudded steadily under my hands, grounding me, daring me to close the last gap between us.
“You’ve been waiting too long,” I whispered.
His amber eyes burned, but he stayed still, hands at his sides. “I’d wait longer. As long as it takes.”
My mouth curved. “What if I don’t want you to wait?”
Surprise flickered across his face before his lips curved into something dangerous. But before he could answer, I shoved him lightly back, steering him toward the couch. He let me, his smirk sharpening as he dropped onto the cushions.
“I take the lead tonight,” I murmured, standing over him.
“Then lead me,” he said, voice rough with hunger.
Heat surged through me. I straddled his lap, thighs bracketing his hips, and tugged his shirt over his head. His body was all hard muscles, scarred skin. Every inch of him was honed for battle. My palms mapped him, fingers brushing over ridges of scars that told stories I hadn’t lived.
“You’re staring,” he teased, though his voice was strained.
“Admiring,” I corrected, leaning down to press my lips to a scar along his collarbone. His breath caught, muscles tensing under my mouth.
I kissed my way across his chest, tasting salt, heat, him. His hands tightened on my hips but didn’t push, didn’t guide. He let me set the pace, and that knowledge made desire curl tighter inside me.
When I kissed him, it wasn’t tentative. It was fire. His mouth met mine with a growl, his hands finally gripping me hard, pullingme flush against him. His hunger was a live wire beneath his control, snapping between us until my pulse raced.
My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, demanding. His answering growl vibrated into my mouth, making me shiver.
Our clothes vanished in a blur of frantic hands and laughter that dissolved into moans. His skin burned against mine, every brush of contact a spark.
I sank down onto his cock and moaned at the feel of him filling me. I rolled my hips against him as I deepened the kiss. The rhythm built slowly, every movement a claim. I guided the pace, refusing to give in to the wild urgency clawing at us. This wasn’t just about need. It was about choice. Mine.
When he tried to flip me beneath him, I pressed my palm against his chest and shoved him back down with a grin. “I said I’m leading.”
His eyes glowed faintly in the firelight, his smile feral. “Then don’t stop.”
