Page 11 of Hitman's Prize

I’d cut off my own hand before I’d cause this woman any pain. If someone else tried, I’d put in my experience of learninghow to cause someone pain to make sure they’d feel every definition of torture before I’d put them out of misery.

“I won’t.” My voice is firm, carving the promise in the thick air shared between us.

Sammy then traces a scar I’ve got on my throat, a close call from one of my hits. She looks like she wants to ask what happened, giving me the same expression every time I notice her looking at the marks on my skin. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” I rasp. It’s getting harder and harder to even use my voice. Damn. Once she realizes the kind of power she’s got over me, I’m going to be screwed. “Do whatever you want.”

With that offer, I might as well be handing her the reins to this situation. Sammy takes full advantage without a second thought. When sitting up, I feel her eyes roam everywhere else. I’m thinking she has a mental list of things she’d love to do.

I hope putting me out of my misery is at the top. I’m not sure how much more I can take of her teasing touches. Keeping my composure is my number one priority. Once I lose that, I’m going to flatten this woman against the bed of the truck and ravish her, I fucking swear.

“Anything is on the table?” she asks sweetly as her touch goes back to my chest. Can she see the way my breathing is growing quicker? “You’d really let me do whatever I want?”

Maybe because of how long the woman was closed off to the world, she’s got some curiosities. I’d damn rather it be me to fulfill those mysteries in her mind rather than some other undeserving man.

“You’re killing me, angel.” I groan under my breath when her fingers drag down my stomach and don’t stop there. A hiss leaves my lips when her fingers graze the curve of my arousal. If she keeps testing the waters, I’m going to ruin a good pair of jeans.

“I’ve never seen a man react like this,” she mumbles under her breath, “did I cause this?”

“Yes.” My brows come together when she doesn’t immediately yank her hand away in disgust. After everything I’ve done to her in the last twenty-four hours, she should not be interested in my cock. Could this be her way of getting revenge, torturing me until I’m ready to beg her for some pity?

I’ve never begged for anything in my life, having listened to desperate pleas my entire career. After seeing how pitiful one can be, I made a promise to myself that I’d never drop to that pathetic level.

With Sammy teasing my zipper with each stroke of her fingers, that promise of mine is ready to go straight out the window.

Unable to take it anymore, I unbutton my jeans and enjoy the way a soft gasp leaves her lips when I draw out my hardened length. Red, hot and angry, I have to give myself a punishing squeeze to ground myself.

Between looking at my face and my arousal, I can hear the way her breathing quickens.

“Can I…?” Running her tongue across her lip, her fingers brush against mine.

If this angel is offering to put me out of my misery, then I’m going to happily agree. How can I possibly say no when she looks so curious?

Sammy’s hand replaces mine and she’s got a forgiving touch, giving me a more of a lighter squeeze. Like she’s experimenting, her lips twitch into a smile when another groan slips out from my end. Her cheeks grow flushed all over again.

Outside of the parking lot, cars whizz by on the highway. Even though the moon might be taking over the sky, I’m sure anyone could see us if they tried hard enough. Public indecency is frowned upon even in Texas.

Yet, I can’t tell her to stop. Not when she’s got the courage to stroke me faster, fueled by the sounds that leave my battered throat.

I don’t know how much longer I’m going to last with this woman.

Sammy

My body is growing warmer and warmer as an unfamiliar heat licks at my insides. I’ve never done something like this before.

With a locked jaw, Javier looks like he’s ready to snap at any moment. When one of his hands covers mine, my heart thumps so loud that I don’t even hear how loud my breathing has become.

“Like this, angel.” He strokes himself with my hand at a speed that makes his face pinch up. I can already feel the slickness seeping out, using it to glide my hand up and down with ease.

Angel. Every time he calls me it, my stomach tightens up. The pet name makes me feel innocent and sweet. If only he had any idea what kind of thoughts are going through my head now. The things I want to do to satisfy my curiosities. I’m no angel. I don’t have it in me to ask him to stop using the nickname, not when my body aches and burns each time I hear him say it.

Pressing my thighs together, I try my hardest to ignore the pulse thumping between them. The more I see Javier coming undone, the more aroused I become.

Sure, I’ve seen heated scenes in movies and shows before and they made me feel a sort of way. Nothing intense like this. Back then, I could ignore the ache. This time around, it’s just so much that I don’t think it’s possible to pretend it’s not there.

Something must be seriously wrong with me. Stockholm syndrome has to be it. Why else would I want this man so badly?

Javier curses under his breath as I stroke him faster. I can feel him twitching and pulsating against my fingers. Listening to the way his breathing quickens, I know he’s getting close. Without his guidance, I tighten my grip and move a little faster. Watching his face twist and distort, I’m mesmerized before his release splashes my skin without warning.

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