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My hands curled.

“We both know you won’t do it. Not when you think you can save me.”

I locked my jaw.

“Let me live, Hawke, even if it’s only for the next couple of weeks, just…let me have you, please? Just let me experience the life I would have had with you if everything hadn’t gone to crap.” The blatant, begging plea in her eyes undid me. “If you want to save me from my choices, then that’s how. Give me memories to hold on to.”

Could I? Was it possible to hold her, be with her, feed and fuck her for two weeks…and then let her go? The pain of severing the bond at that point would be excruciating. I didn’t know a male alive who had gone through it, but according to the journals Julian had handed me with a curious face, it felt similar to bleeding out, to having your heart cut from your body.

You want her. Take her. Damn the consequences.

My blood ran hot just looking at her.

She inhaled, and a slow smile spread across her face.

Fuck, she could smell how badly I wanted her.

“Or maybe you do want Samuel to be my first,” she whispered.

I growled.

“Maybe it doesn’t bother you to think of his hands teaching me everything I need to know.”

“Don’t use my jealousy against me,” I warned her. “You won’t like what happens.” The imagery she put in my head sent my pulse skyrocketing, and my instincts roared.

“I think I will like what happens. And I’ll use every weapon in my arsenal if it means I get to have you. I’m past the point of shame, Hawke.”

“Avi.” Her name left my mouth like a declaration of ownership.

“I imagine he’d be gentle with me—”

My mouth swallowed whatever else she’d been planning to say. I hadn’t told my body to move, it simply had, covering the distance between us. I sucked her tongue into my mouth and she moaned, melting into me as I kissed every thought of another male from her head.

I was her male. There would only be me in her thoughts, my taste on her tongue, my body inside hers. Only for two weeks.

I shut out common sense and gave myself over to what she wanted, what we both craved. The kiss caught fire and consumed us both. Hands roamed. She unbuckled the holsters for my blades and they fell to the ground. She tugged at my shirt and our mouths separated just long enough for me to tug the black Henley over my head.

She broke the kiss and stared down my chest, her fingers following the path her eyes took. Her touch went through me like electricity—I felt it everywhere. Her hands mapped out the lines of my pecs, then my abs. They tensed, and I fought the urge to toss her onto the bed. If she wanted to touch, I’d let her touch.

Her fingers stroked up my stomach like she was counting my abdominals, and I hissed at the simple pleasure. Then she laid her hand over the mark tattooed on my chest.

I couldn’t take the emotion in her eyes, the pure longing that filled those depths, so I kissed her. My tongue licked into her mouth, taking and giving at the same time. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I lifted her by her ass, walking forward until we were at her bed.

Then I set her back on her feet and nipped at her lower lip. “You deserve gentle.”

“I deserve you,” she corrected. “And I can take whatever you have to give. Don’t you dare hold back on me.”

A smile quirked my lips at her bravery, as if she knew the many ideas I had for not holding back. But none of that was for tonight. Not with her. Not ever.

“Guess we’ll see what you can take,” I teased, then spun her around to untie the corset that had been teasing me all night. “Fucking corsets,” I muttered. “Only you would torture me like this, Avianna.”

“It’s fashion,” she replied, full-on smiling at me over her shoulder.

“Maybe a hundred years ago.” I yanked the threads from the loops pull by pull.

“Are you saying it doesn’t look good?”

“I’m saying it’s fucking hot and a damned nuisance to get off.” And now that I’d decided I’d have her, I wanted her now. No more clothes between us. Just skin. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

She wiggled her ass back against my dick. “I’ll note that for next time.”

I pulled the last tie free, and it fell away from her body, leaving only the tight, black spandex of her catsuit. One zip and the flawless skin of her back appeared.

“No bra,” I croaked.

“The corset held them in place.” Another teasing smile.

A blue silk thong caressed her skin, making my mouth water as she shimmied out of the spandex. Hunger ripped through me like a tsunami, washing away every thought of tomorrow, of any future besides this moment.


Tags: Samantha Whiskey Onyx Assassins Fantasy