Saved By The Hitman: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance

by Flora Ferrari

  I have to remember that she’s been through a lot these past couple of days, first with the Bratva’s hired killers and then with the revelation that her boss was her parents’ friend, and that the Bratva was behind her parents’ death.

  I hold her as she crumples against me, crying softly against my shoulder for a few minutes.

  And then she moves her face to mine, her warm teary cheeks moving to my skin.

  She stares into my eyes and I look into hers, deeply, sinking into the vast realm of her as I stare. It’s like we’re roaring at each other, a lustful song that only we can hear.

  Her lips twitch into a smile, and then she leans forward.

  She leans forward.

  Which is all the confirmation I need.

  She’s ready.

  It’s time to let out the howling beast inside of me.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Juliana

  He lifts me up and carries me inside, our lips still fused together, fireworks erupting between our bodies. My thighs are tingling, the sensation traveling up between them, to my sex.

  Nerves sizzle under the surface, a small voice telling me that I won’t be able to do this.

  But with Jett spiriting me across the room toward the bed, I feel as if I don’t have to struggle, don’t have to stress. I can just let him take the lead. I can let my man do what he wants to do, what he needs to do if the animalistic way he growls and breathes through the kiss is anything to go by.

  He lays me down on the bed and then takes a step back, his gray suit hugging close to his giant’s body.

  Every part of him is throbbing with his muscle, a vein pulsing in his neck. His jaw is tight and his bright blue eyes seem somehow darker, more intense.

  His hair is messy and wavy from where I must’ve run my hands through the steel without even realizing it.

  He takes a step forward, pausing right at the edge of the bed.

  “I fucking knew that dress was a good idea,” he growls. “Are you ready, Juliana?"

  “I think—”

  “No,” he snaps, the iron certainty in his voice making me flinch. “Not I think so. The answer is fucking yes. Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” I moan, as my womb makes my clit tingle and my whole body starts to pulse.

  “Good,” he growls.

  He climbs onto the bed, the mattress creaking underneath his massive giant’s weight. When he’s on top of me – holding himself up with his fists buried in the sheets on either side of my head – I feel like nothing can hurt me.

  He’ll protect me.

  Forever.

  He initiates the kiss this time, his tongue sliding into my mouth, moving around it. It’s like it’s on fire, the way the heat licks at the insides of my cheeks, the way it moves around and down and through me.

  I wrap my arms around him and grip onto his muscular shoulders, not an inch of him yielding from my dug-in fingernails.

  Suddenly, he rears up like a bear, staring down at me.

  “Fuck,” he snarls. “I need to see you naked. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  “And you,” I gasp, stunned at how steady my voice is.

  I push the nerves down, just about, even if they’re still there, still very much alive.

  His smirk twitches.

  “Good girl,” he says. “I fucking love when you get confident and sassy.”

  Love.

  No, he just used it the way people do when they say, I love pasta.

  It means nothing.

  And yet it means everything to me.

  He springs up off the bed, and then leans down and grabs my shoulders. He heaves me up as though I’m weightless. I’ll never get used to the way he handles me, the same way the football players used to handle the cheerleaders in high school, tossing them around as though they were made of air.

  With Jett, I’m floating on air.

  He slides his hands down my body, and then grabs the hem of my dress and starts to lift. I raise my arms instinctively even as dozens of self-hating thoughts flurry unfairly through my mind.

  He tosses my dress aside and steps back, staring at me with his jaw pulsing, as though he’s debating devouring me instead of having sex with me.

  “Fuck,” he snarls. “Cunt and tits out—now. Leave the heels on. Understand?”

  “Yes,” I moan, moving my hands behind my back to unhook my bra.

  I keep my eyes fixated on him as he shrugs his jacket off. He grabs the front of his shirt and tears it violently. The buttons scatter and he shrugs off the shirt, too, revealing a torso of ridged, massive muscles.

  His abs are deep crevices and his pectorals are huge and round and rock solid. He has a V going down toward his groin, making me think of his huge cock, the way it swelled in the underground apartment.

  Beads of sweat glisten against his skin, making his muscular form shiny, highlighting the defining lines of his body.

  He growls when my breast spill free, his hands twitching.

  “Cunt,” he growls. “Now.”

  “What about…you?” I manage to gasp, even if the words have to travel across a river of anxiety to reach my lips.

  He smirks. “Fine, but hurry up.”

  I lie back on the bed, but always keep my eyes on him as I wriggle out of my panties. I watch as he kicks off his shoes and then unbuckles his belt. He lets his trousers fall and then grabs the waistband of his underwear, giving it a savage tug.

  He tears it away from his body, and then his cock springs free, all ten-plus inches of it.

  The end of it is soaked in precome, the base of it alive with pulsating veins. It’s so hard, it looks as if it could erupt any second. The helm is engorged and massive, far bigger than my virgin hole.

  I bite down as I pull my panties past my calves, kicking them off my heels, staring at the rugged beastliness of his naked body.

  “Fuck,” he growls, climbing back on top of the bed. “You better be wet already. Otherwise, I’m taking you raw. I need you. I’ve waited my whole life for your soaked, needy hole, Juliana. I want to be a gentleman – I really fucking do – but how can you expect me to, when you look so horny and hungry for it right now? Tell me to fuck you, Juliana. Say please like a good girl.”

  “P-please,” I gasp, my voice sounding hollow.

  Please let this work, please let this work, please let this work.

  I scream the prayer in my mind over and over again.

  He holds himself up with one hand and then reaches down with the other, guiding the end of his cock to my hole. He strokes it up and down, my pussy giving a flutter, something deep inside of me getting lava-hot and swelling.

  My womb, oh, God, my womb’s getting ready for him.

  I grip onto his shoulders, able to dig my fingernails in a little now that he’s naked. I stare into his eyes, and then at the swollen mass of his muscular shoulders, my hands looking so frail and weak compared to the power of my beast.

  He pushes in an inch, and I gasp, I gasp like lightning is moving through me.

  “Oh—oh—”

  “Fuck, you’re a tight horny thing, aren’t you?”

  “Mm-mmm,” I’m able to moan, just about.

  He pushes in another inch, my hole yelling that we can’t take this.

  He’s too big.

  “Fuck,” he snaps. “I have to—I just fucking have to …”

  Suddenly, he arches his back and drives right into me.

  My pussy roars out in a moment of sweet agony as he roughly takes my virginity, but then, a moment later, my hole starts to flutter, even more, expanding around his bursting length.

  The pain disappears.

  Something magical takes its place.

  I let out a wavering moan of disbelief as he holds himself inside of me, buried to the hilt.

  His lips are twisted and his eyes are completely focused on me.

  Nothing else exists for him.

  “You—feel—perfect,” he snarls.

  “It’s good,”
I whimper. “It doesn’t hurt. Oh, God, it—Ah, ah.”

  He slides out of me and then slams in, smashing his pubic bone against mine.

  His length takes up all the space inside of me, a big swollen sword of fiery pleasure.

  He rears up and starts to pound in and out of me.

  I clutch more firmly onto his shoulders, as though I’ll slip away and out of the magic of this moment if I don’t.

  Over and over, he slams into me, making growling noises.

  I moan along with him, our noises of euphoria rising above the noise of our flesh coming together, the searing contact causing my womb to get all tingly and needy inside of me.

  The end of his cock especially feels like it’s hitting something, some sweet spot I’ve never felt before, that I never even knew existed. Over and over, his cock drives up and touches that spot, making the pleasure swell and grow more and more with each contact.

  I start to move in time with him, tilting my hips just a little, hoping I’m not making a fool of myself.

  “Oh, fuck,” Jett snarls. “Keep moving like that. You’re a quick learner, aren’t you baby?”

  “So are you,” I gasp.

  He smirks, pausing for a moment, and then draws his cock out of me so slowly I feel every single twitching movement.

  He keeps his eyes on me as though he’s playing me like an instrument.

  I whimper and writhe as my pussy tries to clutch onto his cock, as I try to keep him inside of me.

  Then he stops until the tip of his helm is kissing my hole, staring at me, into my eyes.

  “I need to fuck you hard now,” he growls.

  “That wasn’t hard?” I whimper.

  “Oh, you naïve silly girl,” he snarls. “Can you take it hard? Can you take everything I have to give you?”

  I don’t know.

  “Yes,” I moan because I don’t want this to stop.

  Ever.

  “Good girl,” he breathes.

  Suddenly, he thunders into me.

  My pussy screams and my womb rejoices as the end of his cock hammers into that spot inside of me.

  The whole bed leaps around – the room seeming to shake – as he hammers into me again and again.

  He’s fucking me like he’s waited his whole life to feel the pleasure coursing between us.

  I do my best to keep up, bouncing along with him, but then all I’m capable of doing is moving around like a rag doll on the end of his massive cock.

  My pussy tingles and more fireworks light up inside of me, his cock becoming the only thing I’m aware of, the only thing that exists.

  Pressure starts to build and it’s all I know, that expanding tingling red-hot rightness.

  “Grab—your—tits,” he growls through the fray.

  I miss them at first, we’re moving so fast. But then I grab them and sink my hands into them, my nipples pulsing with ecstasy against my palms.

  He grits his teeth as he stares at my breasts, his teeth gritted and spit flying from between his teeth to smooth across my skin and make it glisten for him.

  “Come,” he snaps. “Come. Come. Fucking come.”

  He pounds into me harder with each command, something I thought impossible.

  The bed is smashing against the wall now, a bang-bang-bang that makes it sound like the whole house is going to come falling down.

  Suddenly, all the pressure in my pussy releases and wetness floods through my belly and into that sweet spot. The sweet spot pulses and shimmers, and then my pussy’s fluttering around his cock, pulsing in time with that spot of pleasure.

  I gasp and close my eyes, seeing red, nothing but red.

  “Look at me when I finish inside you, baby,” he groans.

  I snap my eyes open as sharply as his voice, taking in his face, made blurry with my tears of pleasure.

  An endless river of intense wetness floods out of me, down the length of his cock.

  And then he arches his back and smashes into me somehow harder than he has yet.

  My no-longer-a-virgin pussy gives a pulse in response.

  Another orgasm shatters into me as he moans and gasps and his cock starts to beat inside of me, like a heart, like we’re fusing together as we finish together.

  He collapses to the side of me when we’re finished, and without even thinking I climb into the nook of his arm, resting my cheek against his chest.

  A worry rises like acid inside of me. He’s going to push me away now. Maybe now that he’s gotten what he wanted, he’s not going to want to cuddle and be close.

  But then my worries uncoil and relax as he lifts his hand to cradle me closer to his chest, moving his fingers through my hair.

  My pussy throbs with the aftermath, my hole fluttering and aching with the savage way he took me.

  “Did I get too rough with you?” he asks.

  “No,” I say. “I liked it. It was everything I ever dreamed of.”

  I look up to find his smirk turned into something like a genuine smile, his eyes sparkling, brimming with affection.

  “It was, wasn’t it?” he says. “I just lost control. Making love to you, Juliana, it was the first time in my life I haven’t felt like I had to be on alert like I could just be … me. Does that make sense? Saying it out loud, I feel like a jackass.”

  “No,” I rush to say, climbing up his sweat-slick chest and laying my lips against his cheek, kissing him softly. “I feel exactly the same. It was like we disappeared and something else took our place. That’s how it felt for me, anyway.”

  “Fate,” he growls passionately. “I don’t care how it sounds. I don’t care if it’s cheesy or if it’s supposed to be impossible. I think fate took over just now. I think it made our bodies do what we needed to do—fuck hard, fuck like animals so that we’d keep our bloodlines going. Can you feel it? Can you feel our child?”

  I lay my hand across my belly, stunned that I haven’t grown self-conscious about my nakedness. Usually, the idea of my belly being exposed would be my own personal hell. But with my man – my soulmate – I don’t care.

  My womb tingles and flurries within me, tickling, whispering.

  I feel it.

  I feel the magic inside of me, Jett and me coming together in a conflagration.

  “Yes,” I moan. “Oh, God, I really do.”

  “You don’t need to sound so surprised baby,” he chuckles. “I’ve never felt more certain of anything in my life. You’re pregnant. We’re going to be a family.”

  Even if he can’t possibly know that, I believe him with everything I have.

  I feel it rioting inside of me with iron certainty.

  I love you.

  I open my mouth to say the words, but then slam my mouth shut, stilling them before they can pass my lips. The worst thing I could do right now is throw the words at him that he’s not ready to return to me, turn this awkward when right now it’s filled with starlit perfection.

  So instead I say nothing, closing my eyes and laying my cheek against his chest again, listening to the soothing drumbeat of his heart.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Jett

  I wish we could continue our lives here forever, closed away from the world, just me and Juliana and Rebel. I’m starting to develop a real bond with the little Chihuahua. She likes to sit on my chest and curl up, falling asleep and making it impossible for me to move.

  Not that I want to move when I’ve got my woman asleep next to me, too, her head resting on my shoulder.

  It’s been two days since we first took each other, carnally, beautifully.

  Now it’s time for the meeting with Igor, even if meeting with that Bratva scumbag is the last thing I want to do.

  But we can’t hide in the dark forever.

  When I wake, I harden myself, making myself cold on the inside, killing those parts of me that Juliana has awakened.

  Or trying to.

  Patricia and Juliana are quiet at breakfast.

  They both know that they’re goin
g back into the safe room this morning.

  I’m meeting Igor at an abandoned warehouse in the middle of the countryside, the only place the Russian criminal would agree to meet with me. Last night, Juliana pled with me. She told me it’s going to be a trap, and she’s right. Of course, she’s right. But I have to end this.

  “I’m going to kill him,” I told her, gripping her close to me. “You don’t have to worry. I’m going to end this.”

  “But what if he kills you?”

  She was close to tears, but I tried to keep myself steely. I can never let the notion that my quarry might turn the situation against me into my mind. It would make doing my work too difficult.

  “If I’m not there when the door opens, you have to leave,” I told her. “There’s a car in the garage with keys under the workbench. Take it and drive west, and just keep driving. Don’t go to the police. Don’t, under any circumstances, tell anybody your real name.”

  “Oh, God, Jett,” she’d moaned.

  “But that won’t happen,” I growled.

  I touched her chin and tipped her gaze up, forcing her to look into my eyes.

  Tears glistened in hers, wavering across her irises, dancing and alive.

  “I am not going to leave you,” I snapped. “I need you to believe me. I need you to trust me.”

  “I do,” she’d gasped. “I …”

  I love you, I roared in my mind.

  But something inside of me stilled the words.

  I couldn’t tell her that – I couldn’t reveal how I truly felt, how I’d felt since I first laid eyes on her – when there was a chance I might die.

  She might be left without me.

  Whatever I told her, and told myself – whatever I believed – no man can take a bullet to the skull and live.

  After breakfast, I take them back down to the safe room.

  Patricia is cradling Rebel close to her chest, her eyes downcast. I sense that she doesn’t have the same trust in me as Juliana, but what matters is that she’s going to support her friend no matter what happens.

  I take Juliana off to the side, conscious that I might be able to calm the vicious fury of my emotions somewhat, but I can’t do anything to stop my body’s constant pounding need for her. She’s wearing a baggy hoodie and some sweatpants, but that doesn’t stop me from mentally peeling her clothes off, from revealing her beautiful big creamy tits and her bite-me thighs.