Page 69 of Cruel Master

Now, he would know nothing more.

I pulled the trigger.

Despite the silencer on the end of the rifle, there was a quick pop next to my ear as the bullet rang out from the barrel. The window cracked—a single fissure running in two directions towards the top and bottom from a singular hole that the bullet made. The man’s head jerked in my infrared view, and his body collapsed.

That was it. It was done.

I packed up my gear, sliding my infrared goggles off and stowed them in the nondescript gym bag I’d brought. After I’d taken apart the rifle and slid it inside, I quickly slipped into the empty apartment and changed—swapping my jeans and sweater for a pair of long-running pants and a tightly fitted black t-shirt with a hoodie. Anyone who noticed me as I made my way out of the building would only see what I wanted them to see—a man on his way to the gym.

Several blocks down, I unlocked the SUV I’d driven into the city for this mission, tossed my bag into the trunk, and then left the area. Turning the radio on and leaving it on low volume, I half listened to the two hosts discussing the new miracle formula now making waves in the medical world. The black market of organs and organ transplant lists was about to be rocked with a young scientist’s revolutionary growth method for creating organs grown in labs to replace those used in surgeries and transplants.

Halfway home, I remembered Angel’s text and swerved into a 24-hour grocery store I’d damn near bypassed. Shit. If I forgot ice cream again, she’d flay me alive.

Who knew pregnant women could be ten times scarier than any mob boss or hitman? Ten minutes later and two large cartons of mint chocolate chip ice cream heavier, I got back on the road. Once I hit the outskirts of the city, I gunned the engine and let the speedometer race upward.

The Price Mansion came into view—new iron gates to replace the ones we’d blown open months before and sprawling grounds set before the golden hue of the illuminated windows. My chest ached as I pressed a series of buttons on the comm unit next to the gate and one of the guards opened the entryway. Rocks flew beneath my wheels as I sped toward the front of the manor.

A new kind of hunger was spreading within me. One that had little to do with bloodlust and more to do with the warm, waiting female body within the walls of my home. Jerking the SUV to a stop, I parked it in front of the double doors of the mansion, shut off the engine, and hopped out—snagging the ice cream as I went.

I didn’t make it halfway up the steps before the doors opened and I heard a very gruff Matteo call out. “Please, Ma’am, come back inside. He’ll be here soon. It’s too cold for you to be out there!”

“I’m pregnant, Matt,” my wife replied. “Not an invalid.”

Her head was turned as she stormed through the doors, so she hadn’t seen me yet. I took the last steps two at a time. As fast and silent as I could so that when she finally turned around, she was faced with nothing save for me.

Angel jumped and crashed into my chest as she came to an abrupt halt. My lips twitched and then spread into a smile as she tilted her face upward. A telltale bump pressed against my groin. Switching one of the bags in my hands to my other hand, I reached out and cupped the back of her head. My fingers slid through the bun she’d tied her longer, dirty blonde hair up into as I settled my mouth firmly on hers.

Without hesitation, her lips parted for me. They opened under my advance, and she even rose onto her toes for more as her tongue tangled with mine. I could have stood there kissing her for hours—days—years. But a blast of cold air whipped past me, reminding me that while I was cloaked in a hoodie and not nearly as affected by the elements, Angel was soft and petite and very fucking pregnant.

Nudging her back inside, I lifted my gaze and noted that Matteo was already shaking his head and disappearing into another room—leaving the two of us alone. I redirected my attention downward.

My thumb touched Angel’s wet bottom lip. “What were you doing?” I demanded.

“I was going to wait outside for you,” she replied.

My smile dipped. “It’s freezing outside,” I reminded her before dropping my free hand to her belly. “And you’re not allowed outside without me.”

“Allowed?” She blinked up at me and scowled. “Don’t start that again, Gaven. I thought we talked about this. Just because I let you do whatever the hell you want in the bedroom doesn’t mean you can control me outside of it.”

“Sexually,” I said.

Her lashes lifted and she gaped at me. “What?”

I leaned down so that our faces were barely inches from each other. Her warm breath touched my chin, my throat, and made me want to see her on her back, head over the end of our bed—pussy, tits, and belly on display for me—while I thrust my cock into the back of her throat.

“You let me do whatever the hell I want to you … sexually, sweetheart,” I elaborated. “Not just in the bedroom.”

She grumbled but didn’t deny it. Instead, she conveniently switched topics. “Did you bring my ice cream?” she demanded.

I grinned and held up both bags. “Yes, I did.”

She grabbed the bags from me and opened them. A soft moan left her lips and I felt my running pants grow tighter as my gaze flashed to hers. “You got mint chocolate chip,” she said. “I fucking love mint chocolate chip.”

I shook my head and wrapped one arm around her shoulders, leading her out of the foyer and further into the mansion towards the kitchen. “I know,” I said. “And so does Raff.”

Angel cast an annoyed glance my way. I was getting used to those, too. “You’re so sure it’s a boy,” she said. “What if it’s a girl? Are you gonna call her Rafaella?”

I shrugged. “That sounds good to me.”

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