Page 10 of Claimed By the Hitman: Codename Cupid

Not my real name, this plaything I’ve been given.

I’m Cupid, and Hera has finally been struck by my arrow.

CHAPTER 3

HERA

Waking up next to my naked lover in Paris sounds so storybook, but here I am. Me… the stone-cold handler who once popped an assassin on the mouth for making a run at her. How far I have fallen…

The sun is barely starting to peek up from Germany.

Cupid is lying on his back, limbs sprawled out vulnerably. He needs to leavenow. And yet, I can’t help but take a moment to watch him. I count scars. I even let myself trace a few with my fingertips.

My body still hums from the things he did to me.

I feel better than I have in… well, ever. Even with the stress of potentially being found out by Olympia and killed for it. It makes me want to stay in bed and explore every thick muscle Cupid fucked me with last night.

But we don’t have time for that.

I slap him hard across the face. “Get up.”

Cupid snaps awake with killer's eyes before he realizes I’m the one who hit him. Suddenly, his cock stiffens.

“Well, good morning.” He rolls over and sweeps his arm around my body. “I could get used to waking up like this. Hit me harder next time, would you?”

This man is deranged.

I hate that it turns me on…

“Enough.” I lurch out of bed, scrambling around for anything to throw on.

Cupid lies lazily on his side, watching me as he touches himself.

I sigh and shake my head. “Stop that.”

“You want me to leave? I can’t exactly climb down the balcony with this thing in my way.”

“You don’t need the keycard to get down the stairs,” I say, finding a tank top. “You need to get he hell out of here.Now.”

I pause and stare at him.

Cupid doesn’t budge, slowly stroking his thick, curved cock. He holds my gaze, waiting for me.

“Fuck…”

I throw myself at him like a wild animal. My thoughts are explosions, left without reason or logic in all the noise and force. As I take him in my mouth, nothing else seems to matter.

How is this even possible? Before him, all I cared about was the job.

One kiss turned me into some teenage girl risking getting caught by her parents. Except my parents willliterallykill me.

But, damn, does he taste good…

Cupid lies back, moaning softly and pressing my head down deeper. I choke a little, but don’t stop. The pain makes it better.

“Don’t fucking stop,” he growls. “Faster.”

I obey him. God, it feels so good to do as I’m told. Last night, I let him take control, and I’ve never felt such freedom.

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