Crimson Kiss (Onyx Assassins 5)

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I took it out, thumbing it open to answer the call as soon as I saw Avi’s name on the caller ID. Her Royal Highness.

“Bored already? I’ve only been gone for three hours.” My lips curved into a smile despite my attempt to pull off a poker face.

“My bed is cold, so I came to yours.”

My spine stiffened. “That’s a little beneath you, don’t you think?” I swallowed and turned, grateful that the couple behind me had finished their tryst and my section was empty.

“I like it. It smells like you.” She gave a soft little sigh that made my chest clench tight.

“It would, seeing as I sleep there.”

“You haven’t in a few days.” Fuck, I could almost see her smiling as she said that, a mischievous little sparkle in her eyes.

“My days have been otherwise occupied.” With her mouth, her skin, her body.

Take her. Taste her. Claim her. And there were the fucking voices again. The only time they stopped their insistent demands was when I was inside her.

“And I have enjoyed occupying those days,” she teased. “It feels kind of forbidden to be here in your room.”

“That’s because it is.” I kept my eye on a group of young witches as they walked through my sections, their auras pink.

“Why do you keep it so…sparse? It’s not like you lack the funds to furnish it comfortably.”

“I don’t need much.” While I had the same size suite as the other Assassins, mine contained only a bed, a splintered target to throw my daggers at, and a simple chair for reading. There was a stack of five books on the lonely end table, but no more. Everything I read came from the library, so it wasn’t like I needed to own the tomes for myself. What little clothing I had was for combat, and it all fit inside the closet, so I didn’t even need a dresser. The handful of sentimental items I kept fit just fine on the top shelf above my leathers. Everything else I owned? Well, there was zero fucking chance I’d be taking her to see that side of me.

Come to think of it, since I’d been in her bed, I hadn’t even thought about…indulging.

“You don’t need much? Or you don’t think you deserve much?” she asked softly.

My jaw tightened.

She sighed as the silence lengthened.

“Tell me you’re resting,” I finally said. The last few days had been anything but restful. We were acting like two younglings bound for the guillotine, trying to make the most of every moment, and I guess in some sick way, we were.

“I’m rested enough for what you have in mind.” Her throaty little laugh went straight to my dick. My need for her hadn’t died down like I’d hoped it would. Instead, it only increased. I wanted to show her every position, take her in every possible way, teach her just how worthy she was of pleasure.

“I’ll find you when I get home,” I promised, my voice dropping low.

“I’ll be waiting.” She paused. “And Hawke?”

“Hmm?” I felt down the golden threads of our bond, which was quickly thickening to a rope, and sensed her worry. My fangs punched down and my body tensed, ready to fuck up anyone who scared her.

“Be careful.”

I blinked. Concern wasn’t something I was used to receiving, not in the way that told me it would matter to someone if I didn’t come home. I willed my fangs back upward. “Only for you,” I promised, hanging up as Benedict approached, and slipping the phone into my back pocket.

I rolled my shoulders, trying to shake off the adrenaline that had rushed through my body at the worry in her tone. Fuck, was this what mated males felt every time they talked to their females? If so, how did they get anything done? Or was this primal, mindless shit on my heels just because we hadn’t given in yet?

The bond between us was strengthening. There was no question about that, but so were the overpowering urges to accept the bond, to claim Avi as mine…and what? Live happily ever after? Younglings born with the taint of their father’s infidelity, forced to defend themselves against bloodmad vampires by the age of seven, and failing to protect their mothers from the same weren’t the males who married the princess and did the whole fairy-tale thing.

“My section is dead,” Benedict said with a shrug, his usual suit and tie thrown over tonight for combat leathers. “I guess that happens when you take the edge of a cliff.”

“It’s winding down here, too.” I glanced over my section and followed a pair of warlocks as they walked away hand-in-hand. No one else appeared. “My guess is it’s nighttime in this little simulation.”

Benedict stepped closer, so our shoulders almost touched and I shot him a WTF look and stepped away. “Personal space, much?”