Talon’s expression goes flat, reminding me of a shark. “Then I'll make you.”
Chapter 32
Bloodsuckers Kidnap the Prize
AURORA
“Take her by the throat,” Talon orders, pushing the other man’s hand aside to take over.
The cadence and pressure is as effective as if Talon was in my mind, knowing exactly how to push and punish the twisting upward string of tension inside me.
Sawyer’s hand slides up to my throat.
“Higher and harder,” Talon tells him.
Sawyer’s large hand wraps perfectly so my vision blurs and my pleasure heightens. My control is fast spiraling as my curse licks at all of Sawyer’s delicious sexual energy that pulsates so temptingly around me.
I try to breathe, but the air sticks in my throat. My body trembles, my nipples hard against the chill of the room, my cunt stretched wide around the glass toy and desperate for more, and Talon’s gloved fingers torturing my clit with perfect roughness.
Before I can protest again, my whole body bows off the bed. A scream tears from my throat as I fall off that sharp, steep cliff.
Sawyer groans near my head, his body jerking. His grip loosens as I feel his hot, wet cum hit my shoulder.
I suck in the flood of Sawyer's need and wanting in delicious waves. I feed, I swallow, I devour as I come hard to the vision of Talon penetrating me, sweat dampening the hair at his brow and intense concentration.
I lose myself to everything, the room sliding and fading out of view.
The collar cuts into my throat with a violent jerk.
“Aura, stop,” Talon commands, removing the toy.
I whimper, my hips buck, trying to follow the shaft and sensation.
“Stop,” he repeats with the same firmness.
I gasp for air and blink until reality comes back into focus. Sawyer is passed out on the bed. The warm tones of his skin have cooled. Panic grips me as I scramble over to touch his neck, feeling for a pulse.
After a moment, I detect the steady thrum of his heartbeat. I let out a sigh of relief, body slumping.
Then I twist to look at Talon, who stands rigidly at the edge of the bed. His face is a mosaic of emotions—conflict, regret, and a shadow of something more profound.
Suddenly, I retreat inward, wrapping my arms tightly around my body as if trying to shield myself from the world.
“Aura?” Talon asks, his voice noticeably softer, lacking the firm authority it held just moments ago when he seemed so sure of himself.
“I’m cold,” I murmur, the words barely escaping my lips. I rise from the bed, the cool air prickling my skin, and begin to dress as Talon sets the room to rights.
We don’t speak as we leave the room with Sawyer comfortably situated. We don’t speak until we are outside.
We don’t take the main roads. Talon guides us through smaller streets, quieter routes where the empty alleys are littered with broken umbrellas and plastic cups. Boston’s nightlife has all been snuffed out for the night.
“I’m sorry, Aura,” Talon finally says, the words heavy with sincerity. Then his shoulders stiffen, “No, I’m not sorry. You need to feed. I also wish things were different, but they aren’t. We have to play the hand we are dealt.”
I bite my lower lip, feeling the pressure build until I stop abruptly, forcing Talon to halt as well.
“You were right,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
He looks at me, his eyes wide, clearly taken aback. “What?”
