Crimson Kiss (Onyx Assassins #5) Read Online Samantha Whiskey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires Tags Authors: Series: Onyx Assassins Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
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I settled against the pillows as he used his knee to widen my legs as I lay sprawled on the bed, his to devour, his to claim.

He smoothed his hand over my spine, down and around my ass, until he gripped my hip. “Now,” he said. “Where were we?”

“We—”

“Oh yes,” he cut me off. “I think we were right about here.” He sank inside me to the hilt.

“Fuck!” I gasped, the word bolting from my lips on a harsh breath. The angle he had me at let him sink so much deeper inside me, and I clenched tight around him, my senses overworked and firing at every touch.

“You like that?” he asked, his voice guttural as he pulled all the way out, just the tip poised at my entrance.

“Yes!” I said, breathless, gripping those sheets like they were my lifeline. I needed him so badly it went beyond sanity. This edge he kept me poised on was my new favorite place to live, only because he made the falling so damn delightful.

“Again?” he asked.

“Please,” I begged.

“Such manners, your highness.” He slammed into me again. No preamble, no petting, just him.

He did it again.

And again.

My breasts pressed against the silk, the sensation sending tendrils of heat all along my skin, the pillows supporting me beneath allowing Hawke all the access he needed to devour me entirely. And I wanted him to.

“Avi,” he said, his voice no longer holding that commander’s tone. No, this was Hawke unraveling.

I kept my arms where he’d instructed, but he didn’t say a thing about my hips, so I shifted on my knees, hiking my ass higher when he plunged in again.

“Fuck,” he hissed as he sank deeper inside me.

“Yes,” I groaned, pushing back as he slammed into me over and over again, giving him more in the only way allowed in this position.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned, his pace increasing, his grip on my hips biting into my flesh so hard I was surprised he didn’t draw blood. Shivers of pleasure raced over my body at the thought, at the idea of him drawing blood in another way than just feeding him, and I had no idea what that said about me and I just didn’t have time to care. Not when Hawke was driving into me, pushing me closer and closer to that sweet edge.

He slid a hand around my hip, shifting the pillows so he could have access to my clit. He pinched it lightly enough that I gasped before he rolled it in time with his thrusts.

“Oh, God, Hawke,” I moaned, my body trembling.

“Yes,” he said, hardening inside me another degree. “You can come for me now.” He worked his fingers at a higher speed over my clit, plunging deeper inside me at the same time, and I came completely undone.

Shattered so hard my entire body shook and I nearly shredded the sheets from holding them so tightly.

Hawke groaned as he found his release inside me, folding himself over my back as he worked us both down. After a few moments, he gently pulled out and rolled us so he was on his back and I was lying on his chest. Our breathing matched as we finally came fully down, and I looked up at him with a grin.

“That was better,” I said, and he arched a dark brow at me.

“But?” he asked, eyes narrowed on me, sensing the hesitation in my voice.

He’d given me another inch, but not the rest. And I wouldn’t stop pushing until I had all of him. Because I loved this male, whether he understood that or not. I loved him and wanted to give him everything, like he’d given me. Wanted to give it to him in the time we’d been granted. He deserved that. He deserved so much more than fate had handed him.

“But you’re still holding back,” I finally said.

His head dropped fully against the pillow, eyes on the ceiling as he shook his head. “Fucking hell, Princess,” he said. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

13

Hawke

“I’m just saying that I could go for some good, old-fashioned…” Benedict’s hands clenched in front of him as he searched for the right words.

“Justice?” I suggested.

“Sure,” he agreed as we walked down yet another downtown street of Edgemont, doing yet another assigned patrol. “I guess that sounds better than assassination.”

“Same difference.” I shrugged. We could call it whatever we wanted to, but hunting down murderers, rapists, and abusers at the direction of the Conclave was…well…why we existed.

“These patrols we’ve been doing for the last week are driving me nuts.” He scanned the opposite side of the street while I kept my attention ahead of us, just in case Ajax missed anything or anyone walking by. My shields were up, which meant I’d see Saint exactly how he was—that sadistic, red-eyed motherfucker—if he dared to venture into our patrol zone.


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