Page 42 of Gunner

I work him as hard as I can while I ride my own fingers. I’m already so close to coming that I make sure my hand doesn’t brush against my clit. One touch of that and it’s game over for me.

“Fuck, fuck…” Gunner pants, finally threading his fingers through my hair. “I’m going to come. You need to stop.”

Stop? Why would I ever do that? If he doesn’t want to come in my mouth, that’s okay, but I make it clear that it’s also okay if he does want that. I’ll swallow every last drop of him.

I don’t want to take my mouth off him. My jaw is burning and feels like it might crack from the strain, but I have to keep going or I’m going to slam myself down on top of him and ride him until we both explode together.

“Seriously.” His hips jack up again and again, forcing me to take him deeper and deeper.

I can already taste the salt of him coating my tongue. I shift my hand to his balls and feel how tight he’s drawn up.

I lift my face and take his hand from my hair, setting it on his shaft. I arch back, giving him a show of me stuffing myself full of my own fingers. “Jack yourself.” I can’t believe that’s my voice, so husky and smoky, giving commands like a sex goddess. “I want to watch you make yourself come.”

I support myself with one arm, working myself with my other hand. He gets to watch the show, his eyes hot on me, my breasts rising and falling as I writhe with the pleasure. I keep my eyes open and so does he. I watch him touch himself, smoothinghis hand up and down his shaft, lubricating his fingers and his palm with the moisture leaking from the tip.

I’m shamelessly wet, my fingers plunging in and out, loud and sloppy. His lips curl back in a feral grimace. He smells good. Dark and sexy.

Watching him jack his cock until all his muscles are straining from his neck, down his arms, to his abs and legs, his hand working faster and harder until he comes in white, ropey strands all over his abs and chest, definitely pushes me into my own climax without me doing anything special with my fingers or touching my clit again.

He didn’t make a sound when he came. I was the one who yelped and whimpered and panted through a climax that was almost brutal and exhausting. I wouldn’t even think that he enjoyed what we just did except that his eyes are different. They’re slightly hazy and totally blown. He looks blissed out.

“Hold on,” I slur. “I’m going to get you something to clean up.”

I force my body off the bed, wobbling on rickety legs like I’m drunk. I head to the kitchen and reach down into the drawer by the fridge, extracting exactly what I’m going to need now.

It’s easy to hide what I have in my hands by going into the bathroom and getting a towel and a wet washcloth. I make sure that the cloth is warm.

I hate being devious, especially when I see how Gunner hasn’t moved. He’s pressed up against my bed like he wants to make it his new home, still with that look of astounded wonder on his face.

I shyly hand the warm cloth over, dipping my head. He doesn’t know where to look either, now that I’m back. He takes it from me and cleans himself up while I hover near the edge of the nightstand. He sets it aside. I still have the towel in one hand like I’m going to dry him off. I twist his face into me instead, devouring his mouth. Despite what I’m about to do and the fact that I just came so hard I saw other galaxies, I’m still aching to be filled and used hard.

I grasp Gunner’s hand and lift it to my breast. He groans, massaging his fingers over the hard peak of my nipple. I lift higher, to my mouth. I suck on his index finger, which also tastes like me, whimpering.

He exhales loudly and his eyes close.

I’m fast, but then, I’ve spent hours practicing this and so many other defensive maneuvers.

I already latched the other cuff to the headboard when I kissed him, taking care to be silent. In an instant, I have the silver metal slipped around his wrist and clicked into place.

His eyes shoot open, his face turns, and when he sees that he’s cuffed to thick metal headboard, he roars.

He lashes at them, rattling the bed violently while I step back, letting him have his tantrum. Laughing isn’t appropriate right now, but I can’t help it. It slips out. As soon as he hears it, he freezes, his eyes sweeping me so coldly that a shiver races up my spine, but it’s not entirely devoid of an accompanied throbbing everywhere else.

“For a hitman, you’re surprisingly bad at seeing this kind of shit coming.”

“I’m not a goddamn hitman.”

I know why he’s bad at it. The first time I gave him those painkillers so he could sleep, he was half dead on his feet and so sick. This time, he trusted me.

I bow my head. I don’t take that abuse of his trust lightly, I really didn’t want to do this, but I can’t let him go, at least not just yet. “I’m sorry, but you need to stay here. Healing is a choice you have to make for yourself, but I won’t let you leave and self-destruct. You planned on disappearing. I’m not playing fair, but neither are you.”

“Uncuff me. Now.”

“You’re not very menacing now that I know that under that cold hard killer exterior, you’re just a golden retriever.”

He growls at me, showing me his teeth like an honest to goodness junkyard dog. It’s so fucking hot that I’m going to need to turn on the AC in here if he keeps that up.

I stand just out of reach. He’s not going to swing off the bed and grab me with his other hand or with his legs. “I think you’re an honest person, for all your faults. You’re silent when you don’t want to give yourself away, or when you don’t want to lie, not because you have nothing to say. You like being left alone, but that’s a lie you’ve told yourself. You’re only scary so no one will look at you and see the real you. That’s part of hiding, which you had every right to do.But. You’re going to talk to your club. You’re going to tell them everything.” I gnaw my bottom lip at the blazing inferno of anger he’s throwing at me. Silent and menacing. He’s good at that. Scary is right. “If you don’t, I will.”

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