CAUGHT: A Hitman Romance (7 page)

We are perfectly in sync, following a rhythm that I’ve found hard to achieve with other men. With him, everything clicks into place at once, without any pressure. He shifts me a little, lifting my hip and forcing me to arch my back even more. This change in position causes a new stimulation, slowly but surely announcing my next release.

He notices and casts me a triumphant smile. Shortly after, I can feel his finger on my clit again, teasing my most sensitive spot in order to make me come.

I groan with pleasure, giving in to him with all I have.

“Tell me when you’re about to come,” he hisses. His voice is dark and has a daunting tone to it, mixed with his out-of-breath excitement.

He puts more pressure on my nub, hitting just the right spot. I arch my back, heaving from the mattress when a sudden sting of bliss takes over my entire being. This climax is just as his way of fucking, relentless, brute and overpowering.

“I’m c—”, I breathe in between bewildering waves of pleasure.

A deep groan followed by a few extra deep and slow thrusts reveals his own release. He closes his eyes and throws his head back, while his own climax takes over and our joint moans fill the room.

Mars

There are two things that annoy me when I wake up the next morning.

The first is that she didn’t reveal anything. I fucked her into oblivion, giving everything I have. No woman has ever squirmed and moaned beneath me as she has last night. She was drunk with bliss, losing her mind orgasm after orgasm.

It was part of the plan. I wanted her in that state, pleased, relaxed and vulnerable. But I fucking enjoyed it more than I should have. She made it easy to be this way, to fuck her like no other. It was as she was molded to fit my touch, my body, my needs.

I can’t get my head around the way I clicked with this girl. My witness, for God’s sake.

Though she doesn’t know it. She actually seems to have no fucking clue. Even in her fogged post coital state, when she was lying next to me, trying to process the aftermath in my arms, she didn’t open up one bit. I was careful when I asked my questions, when I tried to get close to her, get into what might work in her unreadable mind.

But maybe I was kidding myself. Maybe this was just an excuse for me to have her the way I did last night.

I’m a fucking fool for not eliminating her when I could have. I curse my past self for not pulling the trigger that night. All of this would not be an issue if I had.

But I also wouldn’t have had last night.

That way we clicked.

It was insane.

The second thing that annoys the hell out of me is that she is still here.

I woke up next to her. She is curled up to the side with her naked back to me, hugging the sheets as if she was trying to protect herself from me—as she damn well should.

I don’t know how to handle this. It has been years since I woke up next to a woman, and even then I never liked it.

Though, in this case it’s not the girl herself who annoys me. I can feel the warmth of her small body next to me. She is breathing calmly, her dainty body heaving slightly beneath the sheets, her face hidden by that massive hair of hers. There is a serenity radiating from her that I have never experienced with anyone else before.

Her presence feels comfortable. Right.

She is as soothing as that melody I tend to whistle to myself.

That’s what annoys me.

My last and only witness is lying next to me in bed. Naked, satisfied—and probably about to fall for me if I judged her pleasure drunken eyes from last night correctly.

What the fuck am I doing?

I should silence her, once and for all. So what if she didn’t talk yesterday? She might still remember at some point.

I cannot risk that. She is the last person that stands between me and my new life.

My phone buzzes from the other side of the room, causing her to wake up and sleepily roll around to me, while I hurry to get up and fetch it.

Her sleepy eyes are on me, while I check my message to see who wants to reach me this early in the morning. Just like her, I am not wearing any clothes and I am well aware of her eyes traveling down my sculptured body until they rest on my morning wood.

“Did you hear about Tony?” the message reads. “Fucked up! We should talk.”

“Fuck,” I hiss, cursing myself for it a moment later when I remember that I’m not alone.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice low and worried.

I look up and catch her staring at me through small eyes, her hair wild and messy, framing her delicate, pale face like a true leonine mane. Even now I find her insanely endearing. Her innocence and naivete shine through every vein of her being.

I almost feel bad for making her witness such a horrible thing as that man’s—Tony’s—killing. Then again, I never invited her on that rooftop. She should not have been there in the first place.

She is a naive, innocent girl—and girls like that make the dumbest mistakes.

I shake my head.

“Nothing,” I lie, looking back down on the screen in my hands. Christian. Fucking Christian. I should have known that he wouldn’t let this go.

He’s not a true mobster, just an associate like I was. But he is part of the business, even if he’s only moving at the outer edge of it. He knows me and he knows what I have been doing for the past few years, even though he has never been a contractor. He’s not a bad guy, just someone who got roped into working with the mob, because they used one of his establishments for their business.

Just like this girl, Christian had shown up at the wrong place at the wrong time, witnessing things he should not have witnessed, and he was given a choice: either pay protection money, work with the mob and let them use one of his coffee places to conduct business—or get killed.

I liked him from the beginning and I was one of the guys who stopped our head from killing him, though I am pretty sure it would have happened eventually if I hadn’t killed the boss first. I persuaded him that it was good to have friends outside, guys who are not criminals at heart but just want their families to live.

Christian is that kind of guy. Innocent but immoral enough to let certain things pass, useful and trustworthy.

But now I have one problem with him.

He knows about the recent deaths. All those idiots I had to kill to get rid of this soul reaping business. He is not stupid and he saw them fall one after the other. Now that the last of that core group who used to frequent his place is dead, he is getting worried. He has every reason to fear for his own life now that everyone in that circle is dead. All those bastards. Christian should be thankful. There is no way of telling what could have happened next. One misstep on his part and he would have been dead, I’m sure.

But he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know who killed them. For all he knows, the killer could be after him next—and he is not completely wrong about that either. I have been on the verge of doing something about him, but decided against killing him. For now. It has been a tough choice and one that never really left my head. The only reason I left him alone—and planned to continue to do so in the near future—was because he was out of sight. He didn’t ask questions, like always, and he didn’t seem to care about anything that happened within the circles of the mob. I figured he would be relieved, just going on with his life after all of them were gone.

And now he wants to talk. To me of all people.

I thought I was done, and now it looks like I have two people to worry about—two people I don’t want to kill.

I knew this wouldn’t be easy, but somehow expected a different kind of difficulty to come across my way.

“You look very unhappy,” she observes, furling her eyebrows with disbelief. “Bad news?”

Oh, hell yes bad news! You have no idea, silly girl.

“It’s all right,” I say. “Just work.”

“On a Saturday?” She asks. “I guess in a position like yours it’s hard to get away, hm.”

She sits up and tries to tame her crazy hair. It’s a futile attempt and leaves her hair looking even wilder than before. The smile that appears on my face because of it is yet another thing that annoys me.

“Guess you could say that,” I say, walking back to the bed, pondering whether I should take her again. My cock is twitching at the thought of it.

But before I can put any of those thoughts into action, she throws the sheets aside and jumps out of the bed.

“I won’t be in your way,” she says. “I’ll get ready and leave.”

My hunger for her grows when I see her walking through the room, bare naked, seductively swinging her hips as she walks.

“No, you come over here,” I order.

She pauses and turns around. Her slim shoulders almost disappear beneath the dark blond waves of her untamed hair. Her dark eyes are wide open, her lips slightly parted.

Whatever will happen, whatever I decide to do with her in the long run—I know I won’t let her go before I fucked her again.

She doesn’t move, but just looks at me with those deer like eyes, her mouth partly opened as if she was calling me. I called her back, but she doesn’t move.

“Well, if you’re not coming to me,” I whisper. “I’ll have to come to you.”

She flinches in surprise when I approach her with two wide steps. I grab her upper arm and pull her naked body close to mine as I plant my lips on hers. The sweet moan she makes when our tongues meet is thrilling to the core. I need her.

I’m rock hard, and the tip of my cock is poking her soft flesh while I claim her. She squirms and moans, willingly giving into my need for her. I need to make sure that she is ready for me, because it’s no fun if she is just playing the bitch in heat I need.

My hand wanders between her legs, passing over her bare mound before I part her lips. She is dripping wet and eagerly moves her leg aside to invite me in.

“What a little slut,” I hiss, and I can feel her smile through our kiss.

She lifts her leg and wraps it around my waist, pulling me closer with as much force as a delicate person like her is able to produce. The tip of my cock teases her entrance, coming dangerously close.

Fuck, what is she doing? I’m not gonna knock her up!

I try to push her away from me, before my hunger takes over and leads me to do something even stupider than everything I’ve already done with her.

“It’s okay,” she breathes, her need audible through every syllable. “I’m on the pill.”

Never trust a girl you just met when she says that. Never. That has always been my hard rule. Bitches are crazy. You never know when you run into one who’s just looking for a baby daddy, shackling you for life.

But that is not the impression I get from her. The way she rubs her wet cunt on my cock speaks of nothing but lust.

Fuck it.

“I’ll trust you on that,” I hiss, before I grab her ass and pull her up, placing her where she belongs.

She groans loudly and wraps both her legs around my waist when I invade her wet center. She squeezes my cock with desperate need, clawing into the skin on my shoulders as she tries to hold on to me when I start pounding her. She is so tight, so needy and ready for me. The intensity of feeling her bare is almost too overwhelming—I won’t last long this time. She is too much.

She is so light in my arms, riding my cock while I am standing in the middle of the room. It never occurred to me last night, but in this position, with this fierce power and agility she shows, it reminds me of how athletic she is. Her body may appear averagely slim and feeble at first, but she is strong and fit, not a skinny little lamb that needs me to show her how to walk. She is clinging on to me, moving along with my motions with ease. I thought I was the one taking what I need from her, but looking at us now it’s hard to tell who is fucking who.

She is taking what she needs just as much as I am—and she deserves to get what she is after.

I don’t stop fucking her while I move us over to the bed. She squeals when I throw her on the ruffled sheets, her legs still spread wide open for me.

“Turn around,” I command.

She obeys and gets on all fours, pointing that perfect ass up in the air and toward me. Her entire body reacts to me when I shove my cock back inside her. Her muscles clench around my throbbing cock and she hollows her back like a good, horny girl.

I don’t have to tell her to help my thrusts by touching herself—she does it all on her own, determined to come on my cock.

I grab her by the hips, ramming my length into her without mercy. She throws her head back and groans with grateful pleasure. The noises she makes in combination with the sight of her beautiful back side almost drive me over the edge too soon. Harbingers of a brute climax are traveling through my loins.

I slow down, trying to regain clarity, but it’s too late. The change of my motions has sent her over the edge, and I can feel her muscles clenching around me as she finds her release. She comes on my cock like a good girl and forces me to follow her within moments.