Page 21 of Rent a Hitman

“So sweet,” he rasps before licking me again and again with the flat of his tongue. But that’s not enough; I need more. I need him to go deeper. I need him to make the ache go away.

And then he does, easing his tongue between my lips, and the tension breaks all at once, without warning. My fists grip the sheets, twisting, while I shout out my surprise and relief, almost sobbing from it. But he doesn’t stop. No, he keeps going, hooking his arms around my legs to hold them in place while he continues feasting on me, grinding his face against me while his tongue works my clit.

Fireworks explode behind my eyelids, and something snaps in me, the last bits of self-consciousness falling away in favor of sheer pleasure. And all he does is laugh knowingly at how my hips buck and the way I moan his name again and again. The vibrations from his laughter are good, too. It is all so unbelievably, incredibly good. By the time I come again, I barely have a voice left.

“I could become addicted to the taste of you.” His words sink into my consciousness as I come down from my breathless high to find him licking me again, lapping at my skin. Something is so intensely hot about watching him do that, knowing he can’t help himself. I leave him helpless. Me.

And it makes me bolder, makes me reach for him, makes me sit up and push him up along with me. I’m almost frantic, fumbling as I pull off his jacket and tug at the hem of his T-shirt. He pulls it over his head, and now I can see him. I can really see him. If I had the time, I would study the tattoos across his chest and abdomen, but right now, I don’t have the time. There’s no time. I need him.

And he feels the same, quickly pulling down his jeans before he realizes he’s still wearing his shoes. He kicks them off, grunting, and I lie back and watch as he finishes revealing himself to me.

“You’re beautiful, too,” I whisper with my arms outstretched, my hands hungry for him. I want to touch him; I want to explore and memorize every inch. This is a hunger deeper than lust and arousal. I feel this in my soul, which leaps with joy because he lowers himself over me until I can wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him close.

“Taste yourself,” he whispers before brushing his tongue over my lips, then inside my mouth. It feels so dirty to inexperienced me, which only makes it hot. I rake my nails into his back in response, and he groans into my mouth, and that’s what I like most, the give and take, the way he responds to me and vice versa. Pushing each other, driving each other out of our heads. Is it always like this? Or am I just extremely lucky?

All I know is when I feel the pressure from his head against my entrance, I’m not afraid like I was before. No, I could almost weep from relief because this is what I need most. My legs close around his hips, and I pull him in, silently urging him on.

He presses forward, and I gasp, arching against him at the unfamiliar but very welcome friction, the sense of fullness, being stretched and filled and claimed. “So fucking tight,” he groans, his face inches from mine, his eyes closing as a look of pure bliss washes over his handsome features.

“More,” I whisper, rolling my hips, and he delivers by pulling back before driving himself deep again and again.

I’ve never felt so wanted and cherished. The way he works his arms under my shoulders, holding me tight as he moves inside me, rocking me with every sure, sweet thrust. Every tender kiss, every time our gazes meet, and he smiles. “Ainsley,” he whispers, and it’s like I’ve never heard my own name before. “Sweet Ainsley.”

Still, it doesn’t take long for that sweetness to turn to something else as the now familiar tension starts to grow. It’s bigger than before, stronger, and I’m almost afraid as I cling to him and let him take control since he knows what to do. He wouldn’t hurt me. He already promised that, and he delivered, and he’s doing it again here in my bed.

“Do you have another one for me?” he grunts, his teeth clenched, his thrusts harder, even deeper, sweat beginning to glisten on his neck and shoulders.

“Yes.” I close my eyes and give myself over to it, my head rolling from side to side as every time our bodies meet, I’m pushed a little closer to the edge.

“Come for me. Come on my cock. Show me how much you love it.” Oh, god, the things he says, what they do to me, all of it together, I can’t believe how incredible it is, how incredible he is. I’m going to come again, I’m going to—

Tears roll down the sides of my face, but I’m smiling and laughing, my body wracked with sweet, lingering spasms. “Yes… yes…” I can’t scream anymore. I can only whisper, and I do, repeatedly, so he knows how good it is. How glad I am that it’s him.

“Fuck… Ainsley, fuck…” He pulls back in time to take himself in one hand and come across my stomach. I forget all about my own orgasm as I watch his, almost fascinated by it. How helpless he is.

He’s still helpless when he falls to my side, propped up on one arm. “See?”

“See what?”

“See how right I was about coming to see you?”

I can only shake my head as I get up. “We’ll have to talk about that later.” As it is, I wish he hadn’t brought it up. It sort of takes the shine off the situation.

“I’ll get you something to wash up with,” he offers.

“No, I’ll go. You already tired yourself out.” We’re both chuckling as I leave the room, walking naked to the bathroom. It’s almost a relief to close the door and be alone for a minute.

What am I doing? What am I allowing?

I can hardly look myself in the eye in the mirror once I’m finished washing my stomach clean. On the one hand, that was amazing. Incredible. It went beyond the physical, down into my soul.

On the other hand, he broke in here. He might be a total psycho.

My heart is heavy when I return to my room, where he’s now under the blankets. I don’t have the guts to tell him to leave—and I don’t want to, either. I’m too conflicted.

I want him to hold me.

He opens his eyes and reaches for me, and I go to him because, in the end, it’s what I want more than anything. To be held. To be held by him.

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