Two Hitmen: A Double Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Lawless Book 1) (21 page)

“His hands seized my hair. ‘Ah!’ I said, and I stood. I pulled his tie. ‘You had your chance, Doctor Masterson.’ I pulled his face down to me. His eyebrows arched. My eyes widened as his thick red lips came near. Quietly I told him, ‘We’re on
my
schedule now.’

“I tasted his lips and his hands found my soft breasts as our mouths locked together. I sighed into him and we kissed deep, long and hard. My back arced as he squeezed my breasts.

“I wrapped myself tight around his hard torso. His heart beat against my breast. His breath burned into me.

“His groan rose to a growl as I continued to pull on his tie. I forced him down. Down on to his knees. Slowly I lifted my skirt with one hand. With the other, I ran my fingers through his lush, thick hair.

“His eyes grew wide and shone as my skirt lifted. The creamy flesh of my thighs was gradually exposed above the sheen of my stocking tops. Then my tight black silky knickers appeared, wet, hot and heavily perfumed from my yearning need.

“Doctor Masterman’s nose twitched and his tongue pressed around his parting lips. My mound was encased behind the taut, damp sheen, but my perfume reached him.

“My swollen petals ached and, in my damp panties, my stalk buzzed in my folds. The doctor’s expertise would surely take my pangs and fill my need. My hips tiled at him. I gripped his hair and pulled his head into my pining delta.

“Through the wet fabric his lips and his wide, strong tongue found and probed the pulsing petals of my weeping flower. My thighs quivered as they parted for him. My neck lengthened and my head rolled back as his tongue deliciously explored me, as he tasted, teased and took my trembling lips.

“His fingers snaked around the cool skin of my thighs, slipped and slid around the tight edges of my knickers and felt firmly through the fabric. Wider I parted my legs to open for him. And I stroked his hair, his head, his hard jaw and his strong throat.

“I pulled him tighter to me and his fingers dragged aside my panties. His hot tongue, soft, mobile, fast and strong, slipped into my gorge. He slid the wet muscle up and down the length of my canyon. He bruised and flattened my swollen lips. He lapped around my gaping portal.

“My free hand flew up into my hair. My stomach fluttered and palpitated. Mercilessly he slid up to find the base of my twanging stalk. As the point of his tongue flicked around the inside of the hood, I clutched in his hair and my thighs clenched and shook.

“My eyebrows arched and my lips quivered. Mounting cascades of shuddering sensation splashed and burst through me. My throat rasped in a chain of long, sobbing moans.

“I held him hard as the waves rose and brimmed to a crest and then spilled hopelessly, all through me, out from my core and all down my legs and arms. It burst in my throat and out of my mouth.

“His tongue slid up inside me and my thighs clenched and flexed. I pushed down on his face to let him farther in. The tip of his tongue tickled the tender tension just below my inner trigger. I gasped and gushed as he snaked and stretched inside me.

“I trembled and shook, I called out and moaned. My walls vibrated and clenched. My knees sagged.

“His face was wet. He lapped at my bursting lips. His hair was a mess and his eyes were wild. I pulled him up by the hair. I wrapped my fingers around his proud shaft. My hand slid down and into his pants and I clasped his tight balls.

“I licked his face. I was breathless as I told him, ‘You’d better do that test on my ass again, Doctor Masterman.’ His eyes blazed. I kept a hold of his fat, throbbing cock as I turned to kneel in front of him.

“Over my shoulder I looked back at him and squeezed on his hard cock as I said, ‘I’m ready for my injection, doctor.’

“He slapped my ass hard. At LAST! The sting was bright and firm. He ripped my wet panties.
God
, yes! Finally, he was getting the idea. I slumped down to the thick rug on my elbows with my ass up, waiting. My thighs spread wider.

“He slapped me again, harder this time. His hand came up along my furrow. My bean shook as he vibrated the base of it. He tweaked me there and slid his hot, hard cock between the soft flesh of my thighs.

“I bit the back of my hand and his hands slid over my inner thighs, over my mound and all around my opening. He grabbed my hair as the slick bulb of his cock plugged my opening.

“I moaned as my breath burst out of me. My breasts swelled. The front of my walls trembled with anticipation. Rivers of sensation burst through me. He stretched me wide as he drove in.

“My body clung around the girth of his hot ridges. He drilled higher up into me. Rivers of sensation ran out from my core and rolled through my body as he drove his long, hard cock farther into me.

“The fine cotton of his suit pants pushed against my soft ass, and the hard muscles of his thighs made my flesh roll. He bored deeper though my wet lips and he reached to rub my soaking, desperate bean.

“My hips tilted to make him scrape harder at the front of my folds. My back arced and my fingers clawed. Every stroke was nearer, but never quite there.
 

“I pushed my buttocks back into the pistons of his hips. I cried out as I beat against his rhythm. I yanked in my hair and slammed my hand on the rug.

“His long rod cannoned through me, brimming and spilling my juices and my core. His fingers gripped my hair and his beat hardened. I managed to shout, ‘Not yet!’ widened my thighs and pushed my hips lower.

“He grabbed my waist with both hands. I pulled my breast out and tugged on my poor, hard nipple. He was almost still as he gripped me. I heard the coarse rasp of his breath.

“He pounded and pummeled into me, harder and higher. He shifted his angle to penetrate me lower, then wider, then deeper. Then faster. A slow rumble of volcanic waves stirred and rose inside me. His massive cock fucked me to a blasting, bursting plume of pressured release.

“I slammed my hands on the floor, my fingers clawed the rug. He tugged my hair. I bit my arm and shouted.

“I was still gushing as I pulled myself off him and spun back around. His startled moan and his steepled eyebrows made me pump again. I seized his hot, hard pole.

“That fat shaft was going to do me more good than any piece of cake. I licked the tang from the thick, slick bulb. My damp breath fanned the underside.

“The beast twitched as my nails very gently raked along upward curve of its length on, through his wiry bush, lightly up the front of his abdomen. Then, even slower, all the way back.

“As it jerked I put out my tongue. His hot flesh tapped on my tongue. It leaped and dropped back. The anguish on his face was a treasure. My tongue flicked lightly under his balls. The, one by one I sucked them.

“I fluttered my tongue up the length of his shaft, and I blew all the way along it. He swelled and pulsed as my nails softly scratched down his stomach.

“My mouth was wide as I took him in between my soft, wet lips, into the moist warmth and slid him along the top of my tongue. I let my lips just touch the thick shaft.

“I pulled him to me by his clenching buttocks.

“When he got to the back of my throat sealed him in. I tasted his musky precum and I let him feel my hot, heaving breath. His veins sang and trilled on my tongue.

“He gripped my hair and started to push. With the back of my hand, I swept his wrists away. Slowly I pulled back from him. I held his balls and blew on the head.
 

“I peeked up at him and said, ‘I told you, Doctor Masterson, you had your chance. I’m taking this at my pace.’

“Then I took it. I slid it into my mouth, dragging my lips around the velvety ridges. I took it into the top of my throat. Then over that ledge. He vibrated as my throat squeezed the top of his shaft.

“As the sweet saliva gushed around him, it spilled from my lips and ran down his balls and his thighs.

“Then, slowly, deeply, I worked him. In and out. All the way down and slowly back up. A hard, wet plunge, then a long, slow suck. Every time I paused, he stiffened and grew.

“He gasped and groaned as I pushed my nails into the flesh of his buttocks. I sucked and pulled on the length of his hot cock, harder and deeper. And every few pumps, I paused.

“Then he bulged in my mouth. A thick ring pulsed from the base of the hot shaft. Then another. Then he grabbed my head. And I let him.

“His hips rocked and ground him into my wet face and he shouted as the bolts of hot, sticky love blasted the back of my throat and slathered across my tongue.

“My lips were wet and slick as his juice overflowed around them. It dribbled onto my chin, down my neck and onto the heaving tops of my breasts.

“I kept him sealed and suckled inside my mouth until he fountained out every last gulp of salty joy. Then I sucked and licked him off, and I wiped the jizz that was all around my face, into my lips and swallowed it down.

“I scooped as much as I could from my neck and off my quivering breasts, but my face and hair were just a hopeless sticky mess.

====

“‘I prescribe another injection tomorrow at the same time,’ I told him.

“He frowned and said, ‘I’m the doctor.
I
do the prescribing.’

I said, ‘Tomorrow, maybe. We’ll see.’”

When Mother had finished telling me that story, she was
 
actually panting. I told her she should be ashamed of herself. She looked at me as though I had suggested a novel flavor of vodka. “Mm.” She said, “I’ll try it. Thanks.”

I’m not sure that it had much effect, though. Soon afterwards when she spent a few days in London attempting to sort out Lord Wimbush’s legal family cat’s cradle, she sent me the following story.

The silky flesh of Adrian’s rippled shoulder tasted salty-sweet as it flexed in the gentle bite of my teeth. My back arched against his rolling weight on top of me, moving like an ocean current, filling my senses.
 

On my neck behind my ear his breath was low and hard, like the puff of a steam engine as its pistons ram it on and on, up the hill, into the dark, waiting tunnel. My fingers clenched and I got a thrill from the bushy-tight tuft of his cropped blond hair.

I bit his neck, tasted his glistening, golden flesh and looked down his muscular back as it rocked between my thighs. The morning light through the long, wafting white muslin drapes made the hotel suite feel like a palace in a fairy tale.

As I locked my ankles and gripped around Adrian’s pumping back and I saw James returning from the bathroom, dark, lithe and shimmering wet. On his way back to bed James grabbed the neck of a champagne bottle.

I gasped as James brought the neck of the frothing bottle to my shaking lips. I reached up to run my thumb over his teeth. Then my muscles vibrated and sang as I started to feel exactly the way that a princess feels, at the start of her very best moment.

While in London, I thought it fun to pretend that I was the widow Chatterton. I didn’t call myself ‘Lady.’ That would have seemed to stuffy and too formal.

London was somewhere I had visited with Lord Chatterton some time ago, and I remembered the city fondly. When the issue over inheritance arose, I was very glad to come in person to attend to it.

Marston Quinn, the debonair and smooth English lawyer had said over the phone, “Well, Mrs Chatterton there’s really no need, although it’s always the greatest of pleasure to see you.”

I booked a suite for two weeks in a gorgeous hotel that I remembered by the big park. It was spring, the birds sang, I was going to have a wonderful visit.

The lawyers’ smart and spacious chambers were near St James’ palace and all very gracious with a reassuringly olde worlde style and polished brass signs saying,
Quinn, Holden, Farst
. Mr Quinn himself was a senior partner, and he came out to greet me personally in the plush reception area.

A tall man in a beautifully cut suit, he didn’t seem old enough to be a senior. He took my hand and bowed his head as he fluttered a kiss on my fingers.

He said, “It’s marvelous to see you, Mrs Chatterton. I hope you don’t mind me saying that you bring a breath of spring into our fusty old offices,” and I saw the receptionist’s lips tighten.

I thought she probably had it bad for our Mr Quinn and she may have been peeved that he hadn’t already enjoyed the spring fragrance from her fresh little self. And who would blame her?

Marston Quinn had invited a principal from one of the major holdings to join us, and the business of our meeting was as straightforward as Marston had predicted. Still, he and I concocted an excuse for one more meeting before I returned to the States. Just for the look of the thing. Well, maybe not
only
that. We’d see.

As he showed me out, Mr Quinn was positively courtly. He told me, “I’m sure you know that we are ethically prohibited from having personal relationships with clients, Mrs Chatterton. For that reason alone, I heartily wish that your legal business were elsewhere.”

“But if it were, Marston,” I said, “then we wouldn’t have met, would we.”

His perfect teeth gleamed as he said, “Teasy, isn’t it.” And he made a courteous little bow, exactly as the elevator
ding’
ed its arrival. He had given me something to think about.

I spent the rest of the day shopping, and I finished up with afternoon tea and scones in a pretty little cafe on Piccadilly. In the evening, I was back at my hotel and relaxing at the bar.

Next to me sat a fine young specimen of an English gentleman. Strong and well-built, with deep sapphire blue eyes and impeccable manners. He wore a red tunic with gold buttons, just like the soldiers outside Buckingham and St James’ palaces.

I asked him, “Excuse me, but are you one of the palace guards?”

His eyes tilted up at me. He said, “I have that honor, Miss,” and his look set something inside me rolling like a bowling ball. “Lance Corporal Adrian Balcombe-Smythe, at your service,” and he made a little bow.

I love how they do that here. Then when I introduced myself, and corrected him about the ‘Miss,’
he
lifted my fingers to his lips. I was thinking about canceling my flight home.