The General's Daughter (Snow and Ash #1) (12 page)

“Suck it,” he commands. “I want to fuck your throat.”

My soul twinges in ecstasy. Between my legs I’m soaked, and my breasts are full and throbbing. I will do anything he says. It’s all I want.

I wrap my lips around the engorged head and suck. The tip is slick with salty precum, and I swirl my tongue around to catch it.

His lips part and he sighs. I begin a slow bob, up and down. I try to take deep breaths through my nose, knowing that soon breathing will be difficult. I give him a strong suck, and he seizes my hair in a brutal grip. I don’t have to move after that. He’s doing all the work. His hips pump furiously, and I feel the wetness against my thighs as my cunt calls to him. With each thrust, he pushes farther and farther back in my mouth until he hits that spot. I gag.

“
Yes!
” He grits his teeth and glowers down at me. I relax myself, and he pushes down into my throat.

For a second I panic. I can’t breathe. Excitement jolts my clit.

He pushes in, all the way in, until my nose is buried in his pubic hair. His musk fills me, fulfills me.

He’s groaning uncontrollably, and he fucks my mouth like it’s the only thing he’s meant for. Like it’s the moment he’s waited for his whole life.

When I gag again, he pulls out slightly and I gasp for air. But only for a moment. He shoves his cock back down my throat, and this time the sounds he makes, it’s like he’s gone savage.

I use my tongue to please him, I open my throat to him, and I ask nothing. His organ swells, and I almost can’t hold him anymore. He gives a tortured cry, arches his back, and he comes down my throat.

He quickly withdraws. Still straddling me, he throws his head back, and he’s breathing so heavily it’s like he’s run to the moon and back. I stroke his belly as if he’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever known.

Talon stretches himself out beside me, and that look in his eyes… He hates himself. He hates me. He gathers me to him and spoons. His grip is so fierce it’s as though we are one.

I love him.

I smell fish. Seriously, I mean fish—cooking. I bolt upright and spot Talon at the fireplace, spearing a gutted fish over the flames.

I throw the stinky cover back, but I’m naked underneath. Blushing, I clutch it to my breasts.

He flicks me a glance. “I went out while you slept.”

“Where did you get the fish?” I could eat ten of them. I’m that hungry.

He lifts a shoulder. “Went ice fishing.”

“I didn’t think anything was still alive.” The fact that something is fills me with hope.

His gaze finds my breasts and lingers. He seems he’s riveted, but then he averts his eyes. “Found you some clothes too.”

How the hell?

“There’s an easement just up the road,” he says, answering my unspoken question. “House in front’s been raided clean. There’s one in back you can’t see from the road. Still a few things there so I grabbed what I could.” He holds up the fish and points to the skewer. A knife.

“That’s fantastic!” It might not be a rifle, but a knife at least brings us out of the Stone Age.

“If you want your clothes, they’re over there.” He nods, indicating a pile over by the wall.

Dry, warm clothes! This brings me to my feet. I have to walk across the room, though. I can feel his eyes caressing my backside, and I’m embarrassed. The air between us is thick with tension, and my nipples harden at the thought of doing it. Again. What the hell is wrong with me?

On top of the pile is a pair of granny panties, and I’m happier than a sixteen-year-old let loose in Victoria’s Secret. I find a pair of women’s khakis with cargo pockets, and they are only a size too big. There’s no bra, but there’s one of those spandex tanks, so maybe the girls won’t toss around as much. There are also three long-sleeve tees and a Panthers sweatshirt. Once I’ve pulled everything on, I’m actually a little hot.

“I guess we’ll get going then?” I eye the fish. If he doesn’t hurry, I might die of impatience. At this point I’d eat the damn thing raw if I had to.

His lips twist. “Want the good news or the bad news?”

“The good news.” I guess.

“I got us some bedding. It don’t stink.”

“Well…good?”

“Bad news, it’s snowing like a mother. We’re stuck for a bit.”

I glance around, sort of expecting to see a window, but of course this is someone’s basement game room. No windows.

Talon pulls the first fish out and gingerly picks it off the knife. “Hot as hell. Watch it.”

I don’t need to be told twice. I grab it between two fingers and begin picking off flaky bits. They’re hot and they burn my mouth, but I’m too hungry to care. “Oh my God, Talon. This is the best. Ever!”

He skewers another fish and jams it over the fire.

“So, for a bit,” I say between mouthfuls, “like a couple hours?”

He shrugs. “Whenever it stops snowing.”

What can I say to that? I’ve lived through three years of unending winter, and as sheltered as I’ve been, even I know you don’t set out on a trip when it’s snowing.

I watch him as he cooks his own meal. He’s so strong, what with those broad shoulders of his and arms that are corded with muscle. I want to say something, to make him feel more connected, but I can’t think of anything.

“This fish is so good.”
Lame. Lame, Ilsa.

But the pleased lift of his brow encourages me.

Except for a pile of bones, my precious brunch is now gone. And I have bad breath. “You didn’t find any toothbrushes while you were out, did you?”

He smiles out one side of his mouth and shakes his head.

“Water?”

“Bottle over there by the table.”

“Hallelujah!”

I give my mouth a good rinse, and then I take the hem of one of the tees and scrub as much of my teeth as I can. What I wouldn’t give for a hot shower and a breath mint.

Talon finishes his meal and does the same.

“What do we do now?” It’s not like there’s a deck of cards lying around. “Is there anything we need to, ah, prepare?”

Talon clears his throat. His cheeks flush. He indicates the clothes still drying on the back of the broken card table. “Why don’t you set your shoes in front of the fire? Hopefully they’ll be dry by the time we leave.”

I do so, and it occurs to me that they’re the only piece of my former life I have left. I don’t know if I’m sad about that or not. Not, I think.

I sit down in front of the fire and hug my knees to my chest. Talon shakes out the dog blanket and resets our bed with the new stuff. He makes me feel warm and protected. Five years ago, there wouldn’t have been a girl in the entire country who’d have admitted such a thing. But it’s a man’s world now.

He stretches, arching that back of his, and he’s just so beautiful I can’t stand it. Once again it hits me who he is, who I am, and I remember things that can’t be undone.

“Talon.”

“What?” he says absently.

“I know it doesn’t mean anything, but I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Creases appear between his brows. “Don’t worry about it. I told you.”

“I don’t mean…I mean your mom. Misty. I was shitty to her, and if I could take it back—a thousand times I’ve wished I could take it back. I didn’t know who she was. I didn’t know why she kept following me around, but that’s no excuse. I’m so, so sorry.”

He flicks the bones into the fire. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to. I know you hate me, and I know I deserve it. I killed them all. I…killed them all.”

My voice catches, and I can’t say any more. I can’t look at him.

I get to my feet and stumble toward the steps. “I’m going to check the snow.”

Behind me, I hear something clatter, like he’s shot something across the room.

I catch my breath and whirl around.

Talon stalks for me, purpose in his eyes, and I feel real fear. I stumble backward, and he catches my hands in his fists.

“Don’t,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. “I don’t want to talk about it again. Ever.”

My mouth goes dry, and I nod quickly. Maybe it’s a good thing, him taking me to that place in North Carolina. Dad won’t have a chance to extinguish his one-remaining weakness, if that’s still his plan.
 
He won’t be able to take his rage out on Talon, and General Barry won’t be able to use me. Talon can dump me off and get on with his life. And maybe someday I can forget all of this.

I turn to go, but I’ve barely taken a couple of steps before he pulls me to him. My back is pinned against his body, and his hands travel around to my front.
 
They stop and vee my crotch, just inside my thighs. I lean into him, and his hand slides up under my shirt. I purr as he finds a breast. He’s kissing my neck, and all I can think is I want those lips to move lower. I want him to kiss me, to caress me, to make me forget everything, even if it’s only for a little while.

I step to the side and pull my shirts over my head. All of them. His gaze devours me. He pulls me close again, and the tips of my breasts rasp against the front of his uniform. His lips meet mine in a frantic connection of need. His tongue fills me, masters me, and I arch against him. I’m filled with wonder, and passion, and so much emotion that I go weak with it.

His hands press down my back until he reaches my ass, and he pulls me against the bulge in his pants.

“Please.” I’m not sure what I’m begging for. I look up into his eyes, and it’s like he’s consuming me. He burns a trail of kisses down my neck.

He yanks off his shirt and fumbles with his belt, but that too is gone in seconds and soon he’s naked. He practically tears off my new pants.

He pushes me until my back is against the wall.

“God, baby, I love your tits,” he groans. He’s holding my hands up over my head as he bends and takes a nipple into his mouth, and I catch my breath. He sends a jolt straight to that spot deep in my belly, and I think I could come right then and there. He doesn’t stop, either. He cups my other breast and sucks the nipple hard. He bites down.

The moan is ripped out of me. It feels good. It feels so good.

I think I’ll lose my mind. He’s massaging my breasts, pinching my nipples, suckling them, but I want more. “Please, Talon.”

“What do you want, baby? Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come. Please, Talon, make me come.”

He gets down on his knees. When his tongue flicks my clit, I sigh. And I haven’t even come yet. He pushes a digit into me, and then another, and he begins to finger my cunt at the same time he massages my clit with his tongue.

My God. I’ve never felt anything like this. I open my legs to him, and my back arches off the wall. His fingers find a spot inside me, and suddenly I think I’m going to have to pee. I try to push his face away, but he refuses to budge. His fingers rub that special place, he gives my clit a gentle suck, and I’m gone.

I shout out, my hips bucking against him, as the greatest ecstasy of my life shoots from between my legs to every cell in my body.

I’m still whimpering, nearly faint, when he hauls me up by the hips and wraps my legs around his waist. When he penetrates me, I come all over again. He thrusts wildly, madly, with that savage grimace across his face. His fingers dig into my backside as he pulls me down on his cock. It hurts, this endless pounding, but I love it. The walls of my cunt ripple against him, drawing him deeper.

He grinds out a feral growl and throws his head back. He works me in a series of frantic strokes before he lets out a loud, long groan. I feel him come in warm, hard spurts. I tighten my legs around him and clutch him close.

Talon lays me down on the fresh bedding. The warm glow of sex hasn’t left me yet, and he strokes my legs, my belly, my arms, as if he’s memorizing every inch of me.

“Turn over,” he instructs.

“Why?” I ask, but I do as he says.

He begins warm, deep strokes up my back, squeezes into my shoulders, and sweet Baby Jesus, I realize he’s giving me a massage. If I could purr, I would. He even gets my feet. By the time he’s done, I feel like I’ve been wrapped in fur and put in my cradle. Babies probably feel this way—warm and loved. But he doesn’t love me. He’s only helping me because of that code of his. Still, this is as close to tenderness as I’ve ever known.

He pulls on my hips. “Get up.”

I try to , but I only get as far as my knees before he covers my body and plunges into me again. I gasp. “I thought—”

“I’m twenty-two, not seventy.”

This time it’s slower. This time I can savor the feeling. When he reaches around and caresses my breasts, I let out a long sigh.

But I want more. I’m starved, and I need him. “Fuck me, Talon.”

“Yeah,” he breathes. His hands tighten on my breasts.

“Fill me until I can’t take any more.” I don’t know where all this is coming from. I just know I mean it.

Abruptly, Talon pushes me down so my arms embrace the floor. He fists a handful of my hair, yanks my head back, and he works me in a series of strokes that lick deep inside me. In this position, he’s hitting farther than he ever has before. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh should embarrass me, but it doesn’t. I stink with the scent of cum and sweat, yet it intoxicates me.