Last Kiss (Hitman #3) (22 page)

VASILY

I know I should not kiss her on her bare cunt. We will be late and I do not want to walk into that den of iniquity aching for another touch of her body or the taste of her against my tongue. “You must not touch me, Naomi. This is only to help you. I cannot be distracted tonight and you are a very dangerous distraction.”

She nods, bright eyed, and holds her hands above her head. I pick up the thin dildo holding the razor-sharp and long, slender blades that are not much wider than a finger. A cut with these would need to be precise, along the carotid artery or Achilles if we mean to maim them. We are crazed. When I kneel down, I can see she is already wet. There is moisture glistening on her upper thighs. I spread her legs farther apart, the smoothness of the dildo pressing its shape into one beautiful upper thigh.

“Do you need my help?” she asks after a moment.

“
Nyet
, just admiring your beauty.” I stroke her lips, and pearls of her arousal bead on my fingertips. I lick the juice off and close my eyes, savoring the flavor. Above me she is having difficulty breathing. The air is releasing from her in short pants although I have barely touched her. She is quite responsive, my dear Naomi. “How long do you think I should lick you? How many kisses will you need, do you think, to come for me?” I ask, returning my fingers to her bare cunt, stroking her with a featherlight touch. She quivers and moans but does not answer. “I think you should count.”

I lean forward and place the broad flat of my tongue against her swollen sex.

“You are not counting,” I say, sitting back.

“One,” she replies hurriedly. “That is one. I’ve never thought about how long it would take you to get me off. I should, though. That seems eminently reasonable. Now lick me again. Two,” she orders even though I haven’t touched her.

“Are you counting in advance?” I say. “Because that would be an easy way to get confused. Start from the beginning.”

“Oh fine. One, damn it. One.”

I lick her again, only this time it is short, almost a flick across her clit.

“That’s not a full lick,” she complains. “I’m only giving you a half for that.”

“Count correctly or I won’t lick you again,” I say sternly.

“Fine. Fine.” She restlessly shifts in front of me, her cunt lips playing peekaboo between her thighs. “Two.”

I lean forward, press her legs apart, and lick her once forward and then back as far as I can go. Her weak legs cannot hold her, and she nearly collapses on top of me. “Three. Or Four. I don’t
know. Vasily, just fuck me with your tongue already.” She hits me on my back with a tiny ineffectual fist.

I lift one trembling leg over my shoulder and with my palms braced against her ass, I hold her steady for my onslaught. There is no more time for finesse or games. I suck and bite at her sensitive flesh until I can feel her tightening like a coil. In a swift movement, I plunge the dildo in her cunt and she screams.

“My name. Say my name,” I order her, pulling the dildo out and pushing it back in. Her body sucks it in, hungry and grasping.

“Vasily. Vasily. Vasily,” she chants as she is undone by my mouth and the small toy. I catch her body as it slides down to the floor, unhooking her leg from my shoulder so she doesn’t tear a muscle. “I can’t stand,” she whimpers. “Hold me off the floor, please. There are germs there.”

Obediently, I lift her in my arms and then stride to the bathroom. Propping her up on the sink, I wet a washcloth and clean her off. The base of the dildo is still protruding from her. It is very thin and very small but I am unsure how she will walk.

As she leans against the mirror, I splash water on my face and wash my hands. I can still smell her scent, though, as if I’ve bathed in her.

“Will you be able to walk, Naomi?” I ask her, wiping my hands on a towel.

“Once my blood flow begins to normalize, I should be able to walk without problems. The dildo is small enough that it might chafe lightly but that should not be an impediment. Possibly I will walk with a strange, antalgic gait, but other than that I will appear normal.”

“It will look as if I’ve beaten you, then?” At this club that would indeed be considered normal.

“Or I could have a shortened leg. Many people who have single-leg surgeries to repair broken bones suffer from differing lengths of legs. It often leads to back problems. I wouldn’t want to walk around with a dildo all the time,” she explains.

“No,” I say with amusement. “That would not seem wise.”

“It’s possible I might orgasm and then because of the temporary ischemic mismatch between the oxygen my lungs need and the amount of blood that is pumping upward to my heart rather than downward, I might stumble.”

“Is that true?”

“No, actually I just made that up not about the ischemic mismatch because that’s accurate but I’m unsure of whether there is redirected blood flow during orgasms. I will need to research that.”

“Certainly, pet, but later.”

“Okay.”

—

I lead Naomi through a winding path of narrow alleys, covered paths and bridges until we arrive at Ponte delle Tette. The door is a dark metal, possibly iron, and there is no window. Above me I hear the whirring of a security camera as it tracks our faces. The masks we wear conceal our identity. I flash the medallion that I purchased from Guillaume toward the camera. A
snick
sounds, indicating the door is now unlatched.

Opening the door, I gesture for Naomi to go inside. The door closes behind us. In front, I see a wide glass or perhaps Plexiglas door and beyond that a thin wall separating the entrance beyond into two. The staging area where we will be searched individually. The door slides open and I push Naomi to the right while I step to
the left. “I will be on the other side of the wall. I can hear you and will come to your aid if you call out.”

She nods tightly and steps forward. A black curtain is swiftly drawn by someone inside, blocking my view of her. If they find the knives in the dildo, will they stab her with them before I can reach her?

Quickly, I enter my own box. A man covered in black leather from head to toe closes the curtain behind me.

“Arms up,” he orders. Only his mouth, nose, and eyes are visible. I raise my arms and he frisks me. Satisfied I have no guns or knives on my person, he orders me to step through the metal detector. I have left everything off, even a belt. The metal detector is silent.

Naomi will set hers off. She will explain that she has gold around her neck and a dildo in her pussy. Surely they will not pull that out and inspect it.

“Clear,” he says, and I’m pushed through into a dimly lit foyer. I wait, anxious for any sound from Naomi. Seconds stretch out into minutes and just when I’m ready to charge into her room, she stumbles out beside me.

“How are you?” I ask, gripping her shoulders.

She is panting and I wonder if she is close to having an attack. I press down on her shoulders, recalling how the weight of me seemed to stave off a previous attack. It appears to work, as her tense body relaxes under mine.

“I did not like that,” she mumbles into my chest. “Don’t make me do it again.”

“
Nyet
, I will not. I apologize for these indignities.”

“They touched me all over. All over,” she shudders. “I need to take a shower. Water. I need water. If I had water, it would help. Water.”

I press harder.

“What’s wrong with her?” A suited man steps out of the shadows. “If she can’t handle herself, you both need to go.”

“There is nothing wrong with her,” I reply with rude haughtiness. “She does not like being manhandled.”

He snorts. “Fine, but if she disturbs others then you need to leave.”

Inside the club Vivaldi is playing. The wail of the oboe plays a haunting tune. To my right I spot an alcove and duck inside. There are two people fornicating. I cannot tell their genders given the darkness and their shapes nor do I care. I throw five hundred euros on the table. “Out,” I order.

They take the money and scramble away. There are plenty of places for them to fuck. Sitting on the edge of the leather-covered banquette, I gather Naomi in my lap. She is still shaking.

“Listen to my voice, Naomi. Take deep breaths. Concentrate on your breathing. In through your nose. Out through your mouth,” I instruct. I place my hand on her stomach and press. I breathe deeply myself, letting her feel my chest expand and then contract repeatedly. She begins to mimic me, slowly filling her lungs and then releasing the air. “Again.”

She follows and I feel her tremors calm and the tension leach out of her. We sit there for long moments as she gathers herself, one long breath at a time.

She uncoils from me, and I let her legs drop down until her heels hit the floor. “We are not in a hurry,” I lie.

“I’m okay,” she says, covering my hand still resting on her stomach. “You won’t leave me, though? Not again tonight.”

“
Nyet
. I will be by your side.”

“Always?”

Before I would likely hesitate, weighing my pursuit of power against her request, but now? Now it is only important that she is comforted. “Whenever you have need of me, I will be there.” I answer. She does not seem to notice the paucity of my promise. Instead, bravely, she straightens and takes my hand.

“I’m ready.”

We exit the alcove and I lead her forward. As promised, there are all kinds of wickedness here. There are ordinary ones played out in households all around such as the binding of the body or the slap of the whip. And then there are the extraordinary ones such that even those who play do not like to admit to. The ones that can’t be seen during an ordinary web search or on pornography sites set up by Russian girls for their keepers.

These dark perversions are behind heavily locked doors with discreet signs that only those who are in the know can follow.

“What are we looking for?” Naomi asks, rightfully confused, because to the ordinary eye, we are looking at blank doors, down dark hallways. I lead us up one set of stairs and then another until we are three stories up and I see the sign I’ve been looking for. The goddess Demeter is carved into a wooden relief above the door.

“Agriculture?” Naomi scrunches her nose in apparent confusion and then it clears. “Ohhh. I get it. Demeter, the goddess of agriculture for the animal lovers. That’s kind of gross. I don’t think she’d be happy with that.”

I pluck the tracking code off her shoulder and then peer down to look at the lock. It’s a simple one and strangely enough the thin knives I’ve hidden in the dildo will work perfectly for those.

Down one floor, I find a bathroom that is unoccupied.

“Naomi, I must remove the implement. Are you ready?” I slide my hands down her corseted sides.

“Yes.” She winces. “I could really use a break. I thought it would be sexy but it’s actually quite uncomfortable. I think if you were touching me, it might be more pleasurable but as it is I felt like I was waddling. What if it was bigger? I don’t think I could even walk then.”

I pull her panties down to her knees and then reach between her legs. Even though she said she was uncomfortable, she is still quite wet.

She groans when I pull it out. “Now I feel empty. You should kiss me and make it feel better.”

I lock my knees so I don’t fall to the floor and fulfill her request. “I will fuck you until you pass out after we are done,” I promise and press a hard kiss to her forehead. I unscrew the bottom, and drop the two knives in my hand. “Hold out your hand.”

She does so, like a good soldier. Despite her many questions and her nonstop talk, Naomi is one of the best people I’ve worked with. Generally she does what I ask, and I know I can trust her implicitly. I drop the knives into her hands and then discard the dildo and wash my hands.

The knives are secreted in my pocket next to the tracking device. “You must be very quiet now,” I say. She nods.

We exit the bathroom with Naomi’s hand tucked into mine. For people who do not like to touch, we seem to be bothered more when we are not connected.

When we arrive at the Demeter door, I make quick work of the lock. I can tell by her swiftly indrawn breath that she wants to comment on this, but she remains silent.

It is not the time nor place, but I cannot help myself from tipping her chin up. Her gaze skitters across my cheek as I bend down to meet her lips. I press against the softness until she yields and opens her mouth with a sigh.

My tongue sweeps in to remind her of my possession—or perhaps to accede to her possession of me, because I’m rapidly becoming obsessed with her. When I should be thinking of other things, she is there in my mind.

Such as now.

We should be entering the room, depositing the tracking device, and leaving. But I’m savoring the taste of her on my tongue and the memory of us joined together, hip to hip, chest to chest.

“Ahh, Naomi, you undo me,” I say breathlessly as I draw back.

Her eyes are cloudy with passion and she merely nods. I rub a finger across the lip I’ve just sucked. It’s wet from my mouth and hers. Under my touch, she shivers, and my cock grows diamond hard. Suddenly I’m ready to finish our business so we can return to our hotel and pleasure each other, once again.