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.