Page 47 of Assassin's Prey
Abby’s eyes darkened as they trailed along my raised bicep, the thick muscles of my chest. “You’ve been up awhile.”
I glanced down at the tightening length between my thighs, then arched a brow. “Since the minute I heard you move.”
She blushed. The pink wave moved from cheeks to neck to just above the smooth mounds of her breasts like it was directing my attention where it wanted me to go, and I was happy to comply. Moving in, I grasped Abby by her arms and dragged her around, switching our places, putting her back to my front. My cock went from tight to rock-hard as it slid along the crack of her ass.
Abby moaned. Her head tipped back to rest in the hollow under my collarbone, exposing the frantic beat of her heart in her throat. I couldn’t resist. When my teeth gripped her skin and my tongue stroked with languid pleasure, she went to her tiptoes to give me more.
Fuck, the view down her body. A year and a half after our first night together, it still took me by surprise how beautiful she was. It shook me down to my marrow. I took advantage of the water coating her skin to slide my hands around her narrow waist, up her rib cage to cup the full weight of her breasts in my palms. A perfect fit.
Her breath hitched. So did mine.
Abby had mouthwatering strawberry-pink nipples that got tighter every time I touched them. Taking both between thumbs and forefingers, I rolled them delicately.
She whimpered.
I pinched.
“Levi!”
I was a dying man sucking back air, desperate to keep control. “Put your hands on the wall for me.”
Abby tried to step forward, but I dropped a hand to her hip to keep her in place. “From here, little bird,” I said, the words ragged.
She leaned forward slowly, bending from the waist to stretch out, back flat. Her palms hit the tile in front of her. The angle dragged her cream-coated slit along my cock, and when I dipped my hips, I slid right to her opening—and inside.
Abby squeaked. “Not quite…ready…”
My chuckle was strained. “Don’t worry; I’ll take care of that.” Her grip on my cock was so tight I thought I would choke. Holding myself deep inside, I reached for her dangling breasts. Abby had the most sensitive breasts—a few minutes sucking them, playing with them, and she could come with a mere breath on her clit. I used that knowledge ruthlessly now, pinching and pulling, twisting, scraping my palms over the tight nubs, massaging the full globes. Abby panted and squirmed, her cream flooding my cock over and over until I thought I’d go insane if I had to hold still a moment longer.
But I waited, pressed as hard and deep as I could inside her, until with a sharp cry she spasmed around my erection.
Harsh breathing filled the tiny bathtub. “Oh God.”
“You’re not done,” I warned her. I wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.
She whined when I dropped to my knees, but a firm slap on one tender ass cheek kept her in place. A moan escaped—from her, from me—when my tongue speared inside her. I lapped up the cream that waited for me there, sought out every drop as deep as I could delve, savoring the tang of her pleasure in my mouth. I licked her folds, drew them in. Sucked gently until Abby was rocking back toward me, tipping her hips in a desperate attempt to get her clit between my lips.
It wasn’t my lips that I gave her. When the edges of my teeth grabbed her sensitive nub, she gasped. My name echoed off the shower walls in a shrill cry when I shook my head, scraping her clit roughly.
Tearing myself away was like tearing out my heart, but I needed her face-to-face, needed to stare deep into her eyes as I fucked her as hard as I could. In seconds I had Abby out of the shower and lifted onto the long counter next to the sink. She spread her legs wide immediately, expression as desperate as if she’d never come, and I slammed myself deep inside with a hard, harsh groan.
“Abby, Abby, Abby…” I chanted her name to the rhythm of my hips, lost in the pleasure of her core gloving me, her cervix tapping the tip of my cock, the slapping of my balls against her. Abby reached for my ass, and her nails dug in deep, pulled me hard against her. No, forced me. Begging me to fill her. The hard tips of her breasts scrubbed my chest, and I ducked my head to draw one into my mouth, smashing her nipple between my tongue and palate and sucking with desperate hunger—
And just like that, she went off again, clutching and crying and squeezing my cock until a surge shot down my spine and I shot my load at the mouth of her womb, marking her as deeply as she’d marked me. So deep it touched my soul.
I’ll be back for you, little bird. Nothing can keep me away. Nothing.
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Chapter Twenty-One
The hurt in Abby’s eyes when I left her at Mrs. Sanderson’s tiny duplex haunted me as I drove out of town. I had refused to explain where we were going, just told her not to worry.
Eli was right. That plan had backfired big-time. But I’d have to deal with that when I returned.
Five miles out from the mansion, I pulled over to drop off Remi and Eli. They would hoof it the rest of the way, coming in from the east and west to set sniper positions we’d already selected—Eli at the tree house, Remi in a grove of trees on a rise opposite Eli’s perch.
“They’ll be expecting you,” I warned them. Rathlin was no idiot.
