Crimson Highlander (Onyx Assassins 2)

When I woke the next evening, I reached for her, ready to start all over again.

The bed was empty.

She was gone.

10

Valor

Lachlan’s scent curled around my body, clinging to my skin.

His hands on my hips.

His tongue in my mouth.

Stars bursting behind my eyes each time he thrust into me.

The highlander had successfully and thoroughly wrecked me, ruined me. Because there was no way in hell anyone could ever taste as good, feel as good, or push me to new levels of pleasure like he had.

Which was precisely why I practically sprinted to my room the second he’d fallen asleep.

I’d wanted to stay in his bed…that’s why I’d left quicker than if his sheets were on fire.

And, damn were they on fire.

I laid in my own bed now—as I had all day, barely sleeping—safe from myself and the damn bond.

The same bond that had seared and sparked and tingled the entire time Lachlan’s body was on mine. Fucking hell, I’d never had such amazing sex. Never felt so connected on every single level—like we anticipated our wants and needs before they even manifested.

Magic.

Lachlan, not the bond. I had no doubt the highlander had been skilled for centuries on how to get women off, but last night? It had been more than a release, and that’s what scared me most.

Day transitioned to night, and even when I head Lachlan leave his room, I still couldn’t bring myself to go after him. My head spun with what happened, and what I craved on a level I couldn’t possibly understand.

Finally, when I heard his door click over an hour later, I raced into the hallway.

“Where did you go?” I asked and instantly cringed. God, I sounded like a clingy girlfriend. “I mean, is there news?” There, at least that question had purpose. We hadn’t heard a peep from Daphne, and I blamed myself. No doubt they were monitoring her emails more than ever now. She may even be denied internet access because of me. Guilt ate at my insides.

Lachlan adjusted his leather jacket as he turned away from his door to face me, and I saw it then. The dullness that had been in his eyes before, the lack of color…

He wasn’t hungry anymore.

“I had to eat, lass,” he said before a smirk shaped his lips. “Someone used up every drop of my energy.”

“Every drop?” I challenged, stepping into his space because I needed to be closer.

“Aye,” he growled as I teased my fingers over his hard chest.

“Nothing left for me?” What was I saying? Fuck, once was supposed to be enough. And yes, sure, the edge felt smoothed, but I still wanted him. Now more than ever. Not enough to make my head spin, but enough that I knew what it was like, and there was no going back.

“Now that I’ve eaten…” He let the sentence hang there, and a new image struck my mind—his fangs sinking into another female’s neck. His lips against her skin as he sucked—

I took a step back, my body flooding with adrenaline. “I didn’t want you to feed,” I snapped, sounding as childish as my jealousy felt.

A low growl rumbled his chest. “You want me to starve? You hate me that much?”

“No! The idea of you dying—” I cut myself off, so not going there. I rubbed at the aching spot on the center of my chest. “Fuck, Lachlan!” I damn near stamped my foot, and the smirk he wore? Omigod I wanted to punch him. “I know it’s irrational, okay? I know I shouldn’t feel jealous, but fucking hell, I do.”

His brows raised. “It’s not like that, lass. I’ve told you—”

“I know it isn’t. Lyric has explained the need to feed to me very well.” I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. The idea of your lips on another woman’s skin…” I saw red. Literally, I saw fucking red. “I hate this stupid bond. It makes me think like an irrational, territorial animal.”

Lachlan took a step toward me, running a knuckle over the line of my jaw. “You are a feisty little thing when you’re jealous,” he teased.

The battle between lust and anger was strong, and I glared up at him. “Oh, you want to make jokes?” I arched a brow at him. “Okay, then, highlander. Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

I trembled but held onto that heat boiling in my soul. “Picture my mouth,” I said, my voice dripping with honey. “Picture my lips you’re so fond of.” His eyes fell, watching my words. “Now picture me sliding the edges of my teeth—”

He inched closer, walking me backward until my spine kissed the wall between our rooms.

“Grazing the edges of Ransom’s neck.”

He growled so loud I jumped. His hands flew out to either side of me, hitting the wall so hard it shook. “Valor,” he warned.

I poked him in his perfect chest. “That,” I said. “You feel that? That’s what happens to me every fucking time you go to feed.”