Crimson Hunter (Onyx Assassins #6) Read Online Samantha Whiskey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Onyx Assassins Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
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“You haven’t said much since we got here,” Ajax said, leaning against the closed door.

I walked to his bed and sank atop it. “Can you blame me?”

“No,” he said. He motioned toward the bed. “You should really get some sleep, Grace.”

Heat sizzled down my spine, memories of what happened right before the attack skipping through my mind. Then a heavy dose of fear followed right along behind it. My mind felt like it hung by a thread and one more thought…one more acknowledgement of everything that happened would break me.

“Will you be sleeping here?” I asked, suddenly terrified that if he left, I might wake up from this nightmare and never see him again.

He nodded, a longing in his eyes that I’m sure matched my own. “I have to speak to Alek again before I come to bed.”

Hope deflated in my chest, but I nodded. “Those men,” I said. “They won’t find us here, will they?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Not a chance,” he said, his tone gravelly. “You’re safe here, Grace. I promise.”

Those words wrapped around me like a warm blanket. “Safe,” I said, testing out the word. I felt safe with him, that wasn’t a question. But in my own mind? That didn’t feel like a safe space right now.

“I promise, Grace,” he said, crossing the distance between us. He slid a hand along my cheek. “We will figure this out together.”

I nodded, leaning into his touch. Somehow, his words, his touch, the bed with his comforting cedar and moss smell on the sheets, was enough to keep my panic on a breath’s edge.

“Sleep,” he said. “You’ll feel better if you do. And I’ll come to you when we’re done.”

I blew out a breath, my eyes heavy as I laid down on his bed, tucking myself under his covers. His delightful scent swarmed me, enveloping me into a relaxed state of clam, and I fell into a sleep I couldn’t fight even if I wanted to.

I was somewhere between sleeping and waking, just coming out of a dream that had nothing to do with violent men trying to kill me and everything to do with Ajax and the way he made me feel. I lingered in that heavy space between two worlds when I felt the bed shift.

Instinctively, I rolled toward the warmth I felt settling behind me, and I inhaled a deep breath of cedar and moss.

Ajax.

Had I slipped back into my dream?

My nerve endings sprang to life, a hunger wrenching in my core.

Powerful hands slid over my waist, tugging me the rest of the way until my body was flush with his. Heat zapped through my veins, my heart kicking up as I pried open my eyes that were still heavy with sleep.

“You’re back,” I whispered, smoothing my hands over his bare chest, relishing the feel of his muscles beneath my fingertips.

“And you’re naked.” Ajax’s voice sounded like it’d been scraped raw, his hand flexing on my hip.

The statement jarred loose a memory of shucking my robe sometime during the night. “I got hot,” I explained.

“And now?” Ajax asked, planting tender kisses down the column of my throat. “How do you feel now?”

Somewhere in the back of my brain were lingering questions that had chased me into sleep—how this was real, what was happening, what had the woman meant about being a half-blood, and on and on and on.

But, since I was still dancing in that beautiful space between reality and dreamland, I chose to vehemently ignore them.

Instead, I gave myself over entirely to the physical present and arched against him, wanting to give him better access to my neck. “I feel achy,” I admitted.

“Where?” he asked, tensing against me as his eyes roamed over my body as if he was looking for an injury.

“Everywhere you touch,” I clarified, sliding my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer as I rolled my hips against him again. A gasp stole through me at what I felt, that hard length of him barely restrained by his boxer briefs. I brought my mouth to his, my eyes finally adjusting to see his face clearly in the darkness.

God, he was magnificent. Those dark eyes drank me in like warm pools of melted chocolate, and the hungry look churning there had me shivering with anticipation.

“What about here?” he asked, inching his lips toward me, holding me in a suspended moment that stretched on forever before he slanted his mouth over mine.

I whimpered at the contact, at the relief that tingled along my body when his lips met mine. He tasted like spice, an invigorating flavor that I wanted to drink by the barrel. His hand slipped over my thigh, hooking my leg over his hip as his tongue explored my mouth with powerful flicks and consuming thrusts.

His kiss awakened every inch of my body, of my soul, as he took control, pressing that hard length against me as he devoured my mouth.


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