Page 25 of Legacy of Chaos

“Because I care about them. I was so inspired by—” She broke off in an angry huff. “Your mother’s birthday party is tomorrow. Youarecoming, right?”

“Again, none of your business.” He shut down the projector. He was done with this subject. Done withher. “Time for you to go.”

“Finally.” She grabbed her black-and-violet bag off the desk and flung it over her shoulder. “This meeting was pointless anyway, seeing as you only made me come up here fornuances.” She marched to the elevator, pivoted, and shot him the finger. “How’s that for nuance?” she called out as the door closed.

“You need to look up the definition ofnuance,” he shouted. That female was infuriating. And intriguing. He hadn’t been intrigued in a long time.

He also hadn’t been lectured by anyone outside his family in a long time. How dare Cyan insert herself into family issues she knew nothing about?

His comms beeped, and Kalis’s voice droned again. “Mr. Stryke, the king of—”

“I don’t care.” Reaching up, he rubbed his temples. A gentle pounding in his head reminded him that he needed an injection sooner rather than later. “Cancel all appointments and take messages. I’m done for the day.”

There was a pause and a sigh before, “Are you going to be working from home, sir?”

He headed toward his private Harrowgate. “Yes. Forward urgent and family messages and calls only.” He rethought that. He didn’t need a cousin calling to chitchat. Not that any ever did. But he could definitely see someone calling to guilt him into going to his mom’s party. “Emergencyfamily only.”

There was another pause. When Kalis finally replied, she sounded resigned. “Yes, sir.”

The injection stopped the burn in Stryke’s veins and the streaking pain in his groin, but only for an hour. He should have had more time. He hadn’t even finished his quick lunchof a plain ham sandwich and an apple before his head started pounding again, and cramps racked his insides.

He didn’t bother with another shot that would probably only last a few minutes. Instead, jaw clenched in pain and balls throbbing like they’d been smashed with a crowbar, he summoned Masumi to his bedroom.

The sex was fast and hard, a hurry-and-get-it-over-with transaction that left him feeling the way sex always did: sweaty, trembling, and nauseous. Usually, he’d be up and in the shower immediately afterward. Or maybe stumbling out the bedroom door into a snowbank or flying down the stairs to his lab, where he’d drown his brain in work.

But right now, as Masumi lay next to him, moaning through orgasm after orgasm, he couldn’t summon the energy to go anywhere.

He. Was. Exhausted.

And it wasn’t the sex. It was everything. His dad. Kynan. His mom. Cyan. So much was crashing down on him all at once, and while he usually thrived under professional pressure, he had never learned to managepersonalpressure.

He looked up at the massive, rough-hewn roof trusses and concentrated on slowing his breathing and heart rate, things that had less to do with physical exertion and more to do with his hatred of the sex act itself.

Man, he was such a fucking head case. It was just sex. He should want it. Should love it. But ever since the day Chaos died, sex had been tied inextricably to panic, horror, and heartbreak. Even if he managed to force his thoughts in another direction—literally any direction—his body couldn’t make the separation. As orgasm approached, his adrenaline would spike so fiercely that his gut would wrench, and his heart would race. He’d break out in a cold sweat as nausea sucked away every drop of pleasure his climax brought.

Injections were just so much easier. Plus, the shots took seconds to administer. Sex used up way too much of his valuable time.

Masumi shifted next to him, her shoulder brushing his as she rolled onto her side to face him. “What is wrong?” Her drowsy, sultry voice still managed to convey her concern. “You never linger. Not ever.” She went up on one elbow and stared at him with pleasure-glazed eyes. “Are you ill?” The natural, throaty drawl inherent to her species made every question sound sensual, no matter if she was angry or afraid. And every question entered the Sem brain like, “Do you want to fuck?”

He continued to study the ceiling. “Just tired.” Maybe he’d get out the ladder and dust the rafters later.

She nodded. “I wondered why you seemed less grumpy than usual.”

“You think I’m grumpy?”

“Oh, please.” She fell back onto the pillow. “You know how you are. Play naïve with someone who hasn’t been fucking you for almost fifteen years.”

She’d also saved his life more than once, but he wouldn’t give her any more ammunition. She already knew how much he appreciated her. He’d paid her former master an obscene amount of money to part with her, and after she’d told him how the other Sem treated her, Stryke had killed the guy.

And then took back his money.

Masumi had been beyond grateful. Even more so when he introduced her to his unmated male relatives. As a succubus whose survival depended on frequent sex with Sems, she’d thought she’d hit the fucking jackpot. He’d secured another vase, had it connected to her original one, and left it in the compound he’d given to his brothers and cousins when he moved to his current building.

She’d probably saved all their lives at least once too.

“Come on.” She sighed. “Tell me what’s eating you.” She pinched his thigh. “Because we all knowI’mnot eating you.”

No, he could barely tolerate fast, impersonal intercourse. The idea of oral sex, the intimacy involved, had left him cold every time he’d tried it. Didn’t stop Masumi from attempting it every once in a while. He was probably the only incubus in the world who didn’t want a female’s mouth on him. Well, Rade was pretty fucked up too, so Stryke had no idea what his brother’s kinks and aversions were.

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