Crimson Covenant (Onyx Assassins 1)

“Alek,” she groaned against my lips.

I tangled a hand into her hair and kissed her harder, longer, channeling my thirst for her into the safer of my hungers—lust. But kissing her felt just as dangerous as putting my mouth to her wrist, her throat. Whatever this pull was, it had the power to incinerate us.

She speared her hands into my hair, holding me to her as I kissed her over and over, driving every breathless sigh I could from her lungs with swirls and slides of my tongue.

Don’t go any lower. Stay away from her throat. I repeated the mantra, keeping my mouth on hers, but it didn’t stop my fangs from lengthening.

When her hips rocked into mine, I slid my hand under her dress and up her thigh. No stockings. Just warm, soft, fragrant skin greeted my fingers.

“Lyric,” I groaned, tugging her closer, grinding my cock against the soft heat between her thighs. She’s a virgin. The thought should have given me pause, held me back, but instead it triggered some undeniable, primal possessiveness. No one had ever been inside her. I would be the first—and the last.

“We have to stop.” My vision flickered into thermals again, and I pulled back from the kiss so I wouldn’t slice open her delicate lips with my teeth.

“I can feel how hungry you are,” she whispered, chasing my lips with her own.

“I can’t exactly hide it.” I rolled my hips against hers again, wishing the layers of fabric between us would simply disappear.

“Not that hunger.” She pulled back slightly, her jewel-toned eyes locked with mine, her lips parted and swollen from my kisses. She tilted her head to the side, exposing the long line of her throat.

“Fuck.” My grip tightened on her thigh, my thumb traveling to graze the edge of what felt like lace. “You can’t…I can’t.” She smelled so fucking good, and I was starving.

“I can feel it, Alek. I don’t know how, but I can. It’s this throbbing need that keeps me from sleeping because I know you hurt. I can’t explain it, but I can feel it, just like I feel you.” She reached behind her neck and dragged her hair to one side.

“God. Lyric.” Her pulse called to me like no other. You’ll kill her. Avi’s words came back to me. I was too far past the edge to guarantee her safety, and the fact that she was offering nearly took me out at the fucking knees. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I trust you.” She palmed the back of my head and drew me down, but we both knew I wouldn’t have gone with her if I hadn’t wanted to.

My mouth watered.

“I can’t glamour you. You’ll remember every second.” My lips brushed her skin, and I kissed her gently as the need roared within me.

“Good. Now feed.” Her heartbeat quickened, but her grip only tightened. Still, I held back, knowing that the first drop that hit my tongue, I’d be lost. “Please, Alek, let me take care of you. Please.”

I struck, clean and hard, my fangs sinking into her neck and piercing her vein. Holy fucking perfect. Honey and almonds, spiced with cinnamon and that warm, sugared vanilla. Her blood filled my mouth and slid down my throat easier than wine. I’d never tasted anything like her.

“Alek,” she moaned, and her hips undulated against mine. My cock strained against the leather of my pants. I wanted to consume her in every way, to bury myself deep inside her as I fed. But somehow, she’d made it to the age of twenty-four without sharing her body, and I wasn’t going to fuck her on a table for her first time.

I couldn’t glamour her—couldn’t make her forget, but I could make it just as good for her. I drank deep, feeling the strength rush back into me with every pull at her throat, and my hand slid between her thighs, and she parted them wider, urging me closer.

My thumb pressed into her cleft, and I growled without breaking my bite, the sound low and deep in my chest. She wasn’t just wet, she was soaked through the fabric of her panties. I pushed the lace against her clit, and she gasped.

Her flavor changed, turning even sweeter and more addictive—she wanted me. I moved my thumb in the same rhythm as the pulls at her throat, using the lace for delicate friction. The feeding had her almost there, her thighs tightening around my hips.

“Alek…oh my God.” She ran her hand under my shirt, her fingers stroking up over my abs to my chest and the inked skin that bore my family’s crest right above my heart. “Alek, Alek, Alek.” She chanted my name, but I couldn’t reply. Couldn’t lift my mouth. Didn’t dare mar her skin by striking again and wasn’t even sure I had the willpower to release her.