Page 61 of The Hitman

I react without thinking and grab his wrist to hold his hand there. I press my pussy down into his palm and shudder. He’s finally touching me.

“Zahra,” he warns.

I groan and ignore him.

“You wanted this,” he reminds me.

“I also wanted you to fuck me.”

“Hands on my chest.”

I whimper even as I comply. But once I’m touching him, I don’t mind it. I run my hands through the mass of dark hair there, scratching lightly at his skin.

“Good girl,” he says, and I cut my eyes at him in annoyance.

He laughs and presses his middle finger against my opening.

I squirm. I’m not wet enough.

His hand retreats, and his fingers massage my clit instead.

My head falls back on another groan. I close my eyes and let myself enjoy how good it feels to have him touch me everywhere.

His other hand cups my breast and rolls my nipple between his fingers, sometimes pinching, sometimes caressing before moving to the other and doing it all over again. Good isn’t a strong enough way to describe how he’s making me feel.

“Do you know what I wanted to do to you the first time I saw you by the pool?”

“God, I hope it’s fuck me.”

He laughs and kisses me quickly, a gentle brush of the lips. “Obviously. But I also wanted to worship you. The first thing I thought when I saw you was that I would crawl behind you on my knees.” His finger moves back to my opening, and this time he slips inside easily. “I still feel like that,” he says, pulling his finger out to the tip and pressing inside again.

I open my eyes and groan again at the heat in his eyes.

“Do you want another finger?” he asks.

I nod.

“Beg me for it.”

I don’t even think. “Please, Giulio. Please fuck me with two fingers. All your fingers. Please. Oh, God.”

He slips another finger inside at the same time as he pinches my nipple harder than before.

I hold my breath until he releases that nipple and moves to the other. I’m shaking. Already. “Do you know what I thought the first time I saw you?” I ask in panting breaths.

He laughs. “Do I want to know?”

I nod.

“Tell me.” He wedges another finger inside me.

“I thought you were a cocky asshole.”

“You weren’t wrong.”

“I thought you were a cocky asshole who could fuck me until I couldn’t remember my own name.”

His hand is moving faster between my legs now. He shakes his head. “That’s impossible.”

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