Page 28 of The Mafia Assassin's Redemption
Torin flicks on a lamp, and even with the gun still pointed at him, he holds out his hand expectantly. “Get your things and give me the gun?—”
But before he can finish his sentence, a bullet shatters my window and buries itself in the doorjamb next to me. I yelp and squeeze the trigger of the gun pointed directly at Torin’s heart.
All it does is click. He removed the fucking magazine. With a yell knotted in my throat, I throw the gun at him. He ducks out of the way, cursing as another bullet hits the wall, narrowly missing him as it whizzes by.
“For fuck’s sake.” He drags me down to the floor. “You know the only way to stop this bullshit is by getting married.”
“No.”
He winds a hand in my hair and presses me against the floor. And oh my God, he’s getting hard again as his dark-blue gaze sweeps over me, my pulse leaping and my pussy throbbing in response.
I don’t like him. And I don’t want my body to react to him in this way. Yet I’m lying on the floor after the third bullet in about an hour has been fired at me, turned on with soaked panties, and dammit, I want another kiss.
Shock.
That’s what it is. Has to be.
He lowers his mouth and my thoughts stutter.
But he doesn’t kiss me. Instead, his mouth comes down on my throat and he sucks, making my clit throb like someone shot a thunderbolt of pleasure-filled electricity into me.
And then he sinks his teeth into my flesh.
Biting hard.
I whimper as he sucks, then lifts his head. He brushes his lips against my ear. “There are worse monsters than me out there. For future reference, I’m not particularly into the hunt, but cornering prey, having a brat give it all up for me, her breaking exquisitely for me, yeah, that gets me hot.”
“Freak.” I can barely draw in enough breath to squeak out the word.
“Like I said, it gets you hot, too.” One hand slips down the side of my body and settles between my thighs before rubbing against my pussy. The way his fingers move make me shudder and quake. Every motion buries itself deep, every touch like a trigger for the wordmore.
Torin’s mouth nips my ear. “All that pent-up anger and aggression is just looking for a guiding hand. A firm hand. You’d crawl over glass for good cock if commanded right.”
My breath catches tight.
“You’d crawl and lick from the foot up, just to be face fucked into oblivion.Ifthe commands are right. It’ll set you free, Harry.”
“I’ll crawl over anything to plunge a knife in your heart, you sick bastard.”
He laughs softly. “Maybe, but you’d wait until after you’d been tortured into earth-shattering orgasms.”
I try to breathe but it hitches, and a trickle of desire soaks into my panties, painting my thighs with wetness.
Worse than that, I’m aching, my pussy suddenly desperate to be filled.
Forhim.
“It takes a freak to know a freak… and you’re a freak,” he says. “I bet if you didn’t have those jeans on, I’d be able lick the trails of your juices from your ankles up to your cunt. That’s how wet you are, how turned on you are.”
He’s playing with me, doing this deliberately, saying the things he says to the hot women he fucks, the hot women who get off on that weird stuff that makes me ache, the hot women who love monsters.
I’m not one of them.
“Not true.” I push out, trying not to shake, my fingers finding and gripping the useless gun.
Part of me whispers it’s a stupid thing to do—because, fingerprints. Another part shouts that ship’s gone and sailed right over the horizon. And regardless of that, regardless of anything else, the ten-year-old in me grips it like a lifeline.
Like I did when I accidentally shot him years ago.
