Page 22 of Shark Bait

She fumbles with my pants as she takes a seat and then slides my dick into her mouth like she’s starving for me. She swallows as far as her throat allows, sucking, pumping me with her fist, caressing my balls, and when that doesn’t seem to be enough, she grabs my ass with both hands.

Her eyes roll to the back of her head, and her fingernails, like claws, dig into my ass cheeks. She’s going feral on me, and I pray I don’t rip off the overhead compartment from the force I’m using to hold on to it. All I want is to fist her hair and fuck myself with her mouth, make her choke a little.

As if reading my mind, she pulls me toward her, and the tip of my cock hits the back of her throat. She tries to swallow me like some cute devourer, but then chokes. When tears appear in her eyes, I’m done for. DONE.

“I’m gonna come,” I mutter, in case she doesn’t want to swallow. And if she doesn’t, it’s a little too late for her to pull back, because the moment the words come out of my mouth, I ejaculate down her throat. It’s a load unlike any other I’ve ever experienced. If her uterus wasn’t already full, my seed would try to find its way there.

Not that it could impregnate her even if I tried.

My head hangs between my arms, my hands are white-knuckled from gripping the luggage compartment, while the birthday girl swipes at the corner of her mouth with her thumb. She stands and rises on her toes, then slides her thumb over my bottom lip.

“You taste good, Shark Daddy. Have some.”

I smile at how she’s ordering me around but indulge her, nonetheless, by licking my lips.

“Can I kiss you?” she asks, eyes hooded, gaze on my mouth.

In lieu of an answer, I dip my head.

Her lips are soft, inviting me to do way more than kiss her. When she pushes her tongue inside my mouth as if she’s hungry for me, I taste my seed along with her sweetness. It makes me wish I wasn’t this fucked-up man who came (and wants to come again) in her mouth. But I am that man, and there’s no escaping it.

I peck her lips and then her nose. “Thank you.”

“You owe me,” she says.

I chuckle as I contemplate my answer, then realize I have nothing to say. Do I want to have a taste of her? Yes. Do I think she’ll taste sweet and sassy? Hell yes. I guess I’ve settled that in my head fairly quickly. “I’m looking forward to payback.”

Her eyes light up like green lights on a Christmas tree. “Me more than you, I promise.” She bites her bottom lip and looks back at the pile of cash. “You gonna help me carry my money all the way to the bank?”

I bend over the seats to grab the sheet full of money, and she grabs my ass again.

“God, you have a fine ass.” She squeezes.

I’m chuckling when I hear the plane door open from the outside. I tuck her behind me and aim my Walther at the person climbing the stairs.

Who the hell is boarding our plane?

EIGHT

SHE CALLED ME WHAT?

SHARK

During the time I spent hunting Fis and his crew across the Euxine Sea, I thought that Alessio worked from his office in Japan. But here he is, standing in the aisle of the plane he sent for us.

My friend and boss, Alessio Angelini, is a six-foot-five, broad-shouldered, blue-eyed savage who hides his nature under a designer suit so people don’t piss themselves when he walks into the room. Some still do, but that’s their problem. It’s not his job to shrink so others can be made comfortable.

Seeing as how Alessio never fetches anyone, the fact he’s coming to fetch me speaks volumes of his interest, no doubt in my wife. But instead of prowling forward as I expect him to, his gaze trails down my body and stops between my legs. That’s new.

I follow his gaze to the barrel of the gun peeking between my legs. I suppress the urge to close my legs like a girl that needs to use the bathroom. “It’s not loaded,” I say.

“Hell yes, it is,” the birthday girl says. “Don’t come any closer.”

Alessio raises an eyebrow.

“While she slept, I took out the ammo,” I explain.

“Now, why would you go and do something like that?” she asks.

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