Page 61 of Unmasked Prophecy

Asshole.

Rotten asshole.

“I hate you!” I hiss, the words tearing out of me. “I hate you so much. Yes, it hurt, it hurt so goddamned bad. Is that what you want? Does that make you happy? Do you feel like you’ve won now?”

Something snaps in him and he pulls me against him, his mouth crashing down on mine in a violent, desperate clash. It’s a ferocious kiss, all lips and heat and raw need, and I melt into it, into him, my body igniting with a need I am done trying to control.

He pushes me, hard, against the rough bark of a tree, pinning me there, and I gasp as the world spins around me. “Tell me you hate me again,” he growls, his voice a rough rasp against my lips.

“I hate you,” I whisper, but we both know it’s a lie. “I fucking hate you, Talon.”

He’s everywhere, his hands rough and demanding, and I arch into him, needing more. I want him to fuck me against this tree. I don’t care how much it hurts. I want him in a way that defies normal, and I don’t fucking care how toxic it makes me,makes us.

“Fuck me,” I gasp, when his mouth lowers to my neck, biting the flesh there. “I want you to fuck me.”

He lifts his head, and his eyes burn with a fierce, dangerous light. “This what you really want?” he asks, his hand wrapping around my throat, just enough to make my breath catch.

“Yes,” I gasp, my pulse wild and frantic. “God, yes.”

“You enjoy being fucked by someone who hates you?”

“Yes,” I cry, the truth spilling out, raw and desperate. “Yes!”

He growls, low and feral, and then his mouth is on mine again, brutal and consuming. His hands shove my dress up and push my panties aside, leaving me exposed to him. I’m lost in a haze of anger and lust and pure, reckless abandon, and I don’t want to find my way out. I want this, want him, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

His fingers dig into my thighs, pulling me up, wrapping my legs around his waist, and I can feel his hard cock pressing against me, feral and wanting to be released from his jeans. The tension must be huge, and I know he wants this as much as I do. Reaching down between us, I jerk his jeans open and down, releasing him. I curl my fingers around his cock, squeezing just enough to make him hiss.

“Please,” I whisper.

He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t go slow, just slams into me, filling me, stretching me, his cock as angry as he is. He’s relentless, ruthless, driving into me over and over until I’m gasping, clawing at his back, my nails leaving marks. The sensation is too much, too wild, and I’m lost in it, in him, ineverything.

I shudder against him, an explosion of pleasure releasing through my body, my cries echoing in the darkness. It doesn’t take long before I am feeling his body tense and release, his rasp low and deep, each pulse of his cock inside me a reminder of what just happened.

Of the moment we shared.

Then comes the long, empty silence. There’s a moment where we’re just breathing, a tangled mess of skin and heartbeats, and it feels like the whole universe has paused, waiting. Then he's gone, pulling out of me, leaving a void that hurts so much more than it did before.

His weight shifts, and I think he’s going to say something, turn back to me, but he doesn’t. He does up his jeans, his beautiful body hard beneath the moonlight, and then he turns his back, ready to walk away, ready to leave me once more. As if none of it happened. As if we didn’t just use each other in the absolute worst way.

“Do you really hate me?” I croak, unable to stop the words from coming out of my lips.

He pauses, back rigid. My heart stutters, panic creeping in with the silence. I’m scared of his answer, scared that it might break me for a final time, and I won’t be able to come back from it. The words left his lips before he took me against that tree.You enjoy being fucked by someone who hates you?

“No.” He pauses, and the air between us crackles with something I don’t know how to name. “I fuckin’ love you.”

The words linger in the air, and for an agonizing moment, I forget how to breathe. He's disappeared before I can utter a single word, before I can do anything but stand frozen, my back pressed hard against the tree, my entire body still burning from his touch.

He loves me.

Talon loves me.

A fierce surge of hope ignites within me, a sensation I haven't dared to feel since everything unraveled.

If Talon loves me, there must be a chance.

Right?