26. Talon

26

TALON

I watch Lena intently from the shadows of the dimly lit club, my eyes narrowing beneath the mask obscuring my face. She’s laughing, head thrown back in carefree abandon as her friends surround her, the flashing lights casting her delicate features in a kaleidoscope of colors.

My jaw clenches at the sight of her so unguarded, so vulnerable amidst the throngs of people. Any one of them could be a threat, their wandering gazes lingering too long on the swell of her hips, the curve of her neck. I stay still, resisting the urge to stride across the room and wrap her in my embrace, sheltering her from their prying eyes.

A possessive growl rumbles in my chest as a man approaches her, his hand brushing her arm in a blatant attempt at flirtation. Lena flinches, clearly uncomfortable, but her friend laughs it off, oblivious to the potential danger. I tense, every muscle in my body coiled and ready to strike if he takes one step too far.

But then Lena extracts herself gracefully, politely declining his advances with a shake of her head. Relief washes over me as she moves away, her discomfort evident in the furrow of her brow. She’s stronger than they give her credit for, my fierce little warrior.

Still, I can’t tear my eyes from her, drinking in every subtle movement, every fleeting expression that crosses her lovely face. I’ll keep her safe, no matter what it takes.

The mask concealing my identity is stifling but a necessary precaution. It wouldn’t do for her to recognize me, not yet. Not until I’m ready to reveal the depths of my obsession, to show her how far I’m willing to go to claim her more than just that week we had together. To claim her forever.

I watch, transfixed, as Lena starts to sway to the pulsing beat, her body moving with a sensual grace that sets my blood on fire. The way her hips undulate, the arch of her back as she loses herself in the music—it’s a sight that sears itself into my mind, branding me with its beauty.

I imagine her pressed against me, our bodies moving in perfect sync as we dance. I can almost feel the heat of her skin, the softness of her curves molding to my hard planes.

But then a man steps behind her, his filthy hands gripping her waist as he grinds against her. Red-hot rage surges through me, a primal, possessive fury that demands retribution. How dare he touch what’s mine?

Before I can think, I’m moving, shoving my way through the crowd with a single-minded focus. I reach them in seconds, my hand clamping down on the man’s shoulder as I yank him away from her. He stumbles back, eyes wide with shock. There’s fear etched into his expression as he takes in my imposing frame and the dark promise of violence radiating from me.

Seizing her by the hips, I yank her flush against me, my body molding possessively to hers. She gasps, lips parting in surprise, but I cut off any protest by swaying my hips in time with the pounding bass.

I keep her facing away, my arms wrapped around her waist as we sway together. A heady mix of adrenaline and desire flows through my veins. She feels right in my arms, like she was made for me.

I lean down, my lips brushing the shell of her ear as I speak, my voice a low, deep rumble through my voice distorter. “You looked like you needed saving.”

She shivers, her breath catching in her throat. “Thank you,” she murmurs, her words nearly lost in the pounding music.

I tighten my hold on her, savoring the feel of her soft curves against my hardened muscles.

“Don’t fight it,” I murmur in a low rasp, pitching my voice deeper to disguise my identity. “Just feel me.”

I grind against her, savoring the soft curves that press into me with every sensuous roll of my hips. She’s frozen, trembling in my embrace, but I can sense the flicker of dark curiosity beneath her fear.

Reaching up, I tangle my fingers in her silken hair, angling her head away so she can’t see my face beneath the mask. Not yet. Not until she’s ready to know the truth of who I am.

“Relax,” I growl against the delicate shell of her ear. “I’ve got you, baby. No one’s gonna lay a hand on you as long as I’m here.” I bite at the skin there, wanting to leave my mark on her.

She moans softly as my other hand splays across her stomach, pulling her back impossibly closer until there’s not a breath of space between us. She’s soft and pliant in my arms, and I revel in her body melting against mine.

This is where she belongs. With me, safe in the circle of my embrace, the heat of our bodies twining together in a sensual, primal dance. Soon, she’ll understand. Soon, she’ll crave my touch and possession as deeply as I crave hers.

But for now, I’ll settle for this stolen moment, for the chance to hold her while she remains blissfully unaware of the depths of my obsession. She doesn’t realize that the man holding her is the same man who took her virginity.

But she will. Soon, she’ll know the truth of who I am, of the lengths I’ll go to keep her safe. When that day comes, she’ll be mine, body and soul.