Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 121924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
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.