An Assassin's Destiny: A Reverse Harem Series (The Huntress Series Book 3)

by A. K. Koonce

  There are too many emotions from this day dragging me down right now, but above all else, my sister’s here. We’re here and starting this new life together. Her warmth no longer feels overwhelming as it mixes with my embarrassment. Her familiar scent and soft, brown hair is all around my face, and I hug her harder.

  This was my surprise.

  That I ruined.

  Ruining it doesn’t change the way I feel now though. She’s the sister I always wanted when I was little and never had. The one I wanted to play with and share my secrets with and… have a real life with.

  “I missed you,” I murmur to her on the smallest breath.

  She hugs me harder, and I know it’s weird for us to miss so much of each other’s lives and still feel such a strong connection to each other. Maybe it’s the magic inside of us.

  Or maybe this is what family is supposed to feel like. I just never got to feel it until now.

  I pull back to look at her, her dark hair curling around her heart shaped face.

  “You guys look so much alike,” Scarlett whispers with a hint of a smile in her tone.

  Quiet footsteps pull my attention, and all three of us turn. Mars gives a small nod to us, gathering a book off the bookshelf on the far wall, and almost sneaking out the way he came.

  “What’s your name?” Allison calls to him just as he reaches the open door.

  His dark eyes glance to Scarlett, but she never meets his gaze. Instead, she studies her long, perfect nails in clear avoidance. She picks here and there, but she is clearly an expert at ignoring unwanted men.

  “Sean Mars. Everyone calls me Mars.” His lips pull up in a soft smile that makes him so easy on the eyes. I can see my little sister’s wheels spinning as she holds his gaze.

  No. Nope. Stop the show. Not today, folks.

  My arm wraps buddy, buddy around Allison’s petite shoulder. “She’s my baby sister.”

  Emphasis on baby.

  Allison’s glaring gaze meets mine with deadly annoyance in her eyes.

  Huh, maybe we do look alike.

  “You two are sisters?” Mars tilts his head, taking a step closer when he should have taken a step back.

  My eyes narrow on that tiny little step.

  “Yeah. We have the pleasure of sharing father of the year.” Allison’s tone matches my feelings completely.

  And I’m happy she doesn’t overshare too much. How she and I met, and the details of what happened with Derek, are not things strangers need to know about us.

  Mars lingers, nodding slowly in the strangest way.

  A smile appears on his lips just before he walks leisurely out the door, making Allison smile back at him with her perfect white teeth, watching him too closely with her big eyes. This place isn’t an Anti-League. It’s a hormone house.

  And it’s out of control.

  I spent the afternoon showing Allison the progress we’ve made on the building.

  “Now that the bedrooms down the hall are finished up, the shared bedrooms are being changed into common areas today, so we can have down time as a team. Watch movies or discuss projects, that kind of thing.” I motion to the bedrooms down the long hall and Allison’s eyes never stop scanning over all the details.

  “This place is huge,” she says with a hint of awe in her voice. She admires the smooth marble handrail as we stride downstairs, the windows open and letting in fresh spring air. She takes it all in with that youthful way she has at looking at the world.

  She had a family—unlike me. She had a real family and a home, but it wasn’t anything like this, I know.

  “There’s another two floors we’re working on. There should be enough rooms after we’re finished to house everyone, but some of us might have to have a few people to a room.”

  “Not that the guys mind sharing you,” Scarlett murmurs, glancing back at me before trailing out the front door. It clicks closed before I have a proper chance to glare at my best friend.

  Rory winds around the corner from the kitchen. Sweat clings to his broad, bare chest and his shorts are covered in specs of white paint. I refrain from pressing my fingers against his stomach just to feel his body.

  He’s sweaty. Why would I want to touch him? And yet… God, I really want to touch him.

  My fingers tense and I still hold strong.

  I don’t fold easily and I don’t PDA.

  Much. Ish.

  “Where are the guys? My sister just got here. We could do lunch together.” I tip my head up to him, meeting his deep emerald gaze.

  “Tylin… went out for a bit.”

  My eyes narrow as his words trail off in an evasive way.

  “Where? Where did Tylin go?”

  Rory shrugs his big shoulders. “Out.”

  My eye twitches.

  I try again. “Where out? More than one word answers, remember? You’re better than that.”

  Rory mocks me, shaking his head this way and that, like a duck waddling off track. “You’re better than that,” he mimics, with his face smashed up and his voice like a mixture of an old lady and a troll singing a duet.

  Allison giggles behind her hand.

  My eye spasms again.

  “I do not sound like that and you’re trying to distract me with that insulting impersonation.”

  Rory arches a thick brow but he does relent. “Since Tylin still doesn’t have an office, because the bedrooms we needed took priority in our reno, Tylin and Archer went out for the afternoon to talk. Privately.”

  Fuck.

  Thirteen

  Intensify

  Sitting in the half remodeled common room with the smell of fresh paint heavy in the air, all I can focus on is the two of them whispering while the rest of the assassins watch a new movie on the projector. White light shines across the enormous smooth wall, creating larger than life images there.

  It’s the perfect thing to keep my mind off of what Tylin must be doing.

  And yet, other things are distracting me.

  Rory leans closer to me on the loveseat, his big body seeping heat right into me. His head tilts down to mine, and I have to lean past him to keep a good view of my sister and Mars. Seriously, how wide are Rory’s shoulders? Stop working out so much, my neck hurts trying to look past your hulking frame.

  Warm fingers slide along my bare skin, pushing down the collar of my top to skim lightly across my shoulder, sweeping and brushing and trying to completely distract me.

  Not going to happen. Not today.

  My sister’s quiet laughter has me pushing forward until I nearly fall out of my seat.

  “Why are they huddled together? What are they whispering about?” I rant in the lowest whisper I can manage.

  Mars’ palm makes contact with Allison’s, just a bump of two hands, but it could be more.

  And I’m standing.

  And then Rory is pulling me back down. I land on his lap and his big arms curl around me all at once, his body and his strength delicately holding me.

  “Do you know what Netflix and chill means? Because you’re not very chill right now,” he bites out on the most hushed annoyance I’ve ever heard.

  My head tilts past him again, but one of Mars’ hands has disappeared from view entirely now.

  “Where is his other hand at?” I bark.

  “Okay. That’s it.” Rory’s palms slide under my legs, and all at once he tosses me over his shoulder, bringing dozens of eyes, including Mars’, directly to me.

  That’s right. I see you, asshole.

  Rory hauls me across the room, jarring my head against his back and completely interrupting the glare down I’m having with the man feigning innocent eyes right now.

  With two fingers, I motion to my eyes and then I gesture to Mars. His brows lower in complete confusion, fake git that he is. To show him I mean business, I do it again. With intent, I motion to my eyes—Rory jostles me harshly and I poke my cornea, hard.

  “Fuck. Delicate baggage, Rory.” My hushed complaints go unnoticed
as he trails down the dark hall, his boots sounding gently with patient, unhurried steps.

  I’m still covering my stinging eye when he tosses me carelessly on a bed. The moonlight bathes the new carpet in a paler color, and the walls are darker than I’ve seen in any room yet.

  I haven’t been in here before. But I’m not sure where here is either.

  I squint my bad eye, but it’s pointless.

  “I think it might need amputated. But don’t ask Mars to do it. He knows where he and I stand, and asking him for help after the threatening message I delivered tonight would just be embarrassing.”

  Rory’s big hands grip his hips, and he stares down at me with total annoyance highlighting his green eyes.

  “Unbelievable. Do you know I want to fuck you?” he says on a growl. “I want to fuck someone who stared at another man the entire night. Maybe I’m a dumbass.”

  Shit. I’m a dumbass.

  I blink slowly, my eye watering while I look up at the sweet man glaring down at me with disappointment. My palms slide over the soft blanket and I push myself up slightly.

  “I’m sorry.” The fragile words slip out, his features softening the longer we stare at one another.

  He moves closer to the bed and clicks on a small blue lamp, giving the walls a gentle gray tone instead of black.

  Dark navy curtains hang from the windows, accentuated with light gray stitching, and the deep navy color matches the lamp, the frame of the mirror on the far wall, and the comforter, perfectly.

  It’s like this beautiful room was ripped right out of a decor magazine.

  “I wasn’t teaching a class. I have no idea how to talk to a class, let alone have the patience for one. Mason has been helping me with this room for the last few weeks. I-I wanted it to be special for you.” His shoulders slump, his intimidating height seeming smaller now, more worn down by the expectations he clearly had for tonight.

  I always screw it up.

  My legs shift as I push my body across the blankets and ruin the pristinely made bed. But then I’m right there, eye to eye with him, with my fingers sliding along his dark beard, my fingertips loving the rough feel as I force him to look at me, really look at me, and hear what I’m about to say.

  “It’s amazing.” My chest comes a little closer, brushing his. Big palms slide around my hips and settle on the curve of my ass as he pulls me against him with care. “Everything you build is perfect. This room is perfect. The walls, the doors, the paint, and decor. It’s so perfect, Rory.”

  A little smile pulls at his full lips.

  “I made the white headboard for you too.”

  My gaze flicks to the wooden frame, the center board having the strangest black symbol in the middle of it.

  “What’s that symbol?” I nod to it and he doesn’t give it a second glance.

  “Archer helped a little.”

  My brows lift high and I suddenly don’t know if this bed is safe to sit on.

  The smile on his face grows with every anxious second I spend trying to figure out the meaning of the slashing black lines on that damn board.

  “It’s an intensifying mark. It’ll give you the best, most amazing sleep of your entire life or…” His brows wiggle suggestively.

  Or?

  Or what?

  Oh.

  “So it… intensifies… everything?”

  He nods quietly.

  And suddenly, Archer is my favorite person. Why did I ever distrust such a kind man?

  The simple word ‘intensify’ is the only thing my brain cells are managing to fire through my head. It seems to push us into motion. My lips slam onto his. Greedy hands dig into my ass as his hold on me turns from caressing to controlling all at once.

  Then he lowers me down delicately. The way his big body slides over mine sends me into a tingling mess of need. His hips settle for less than a second, before he’s grinding the thickness beneath his jeans directly against my clit.

  He and I both groan, our mouths capturing the sounds between us, making me crazy with every slow flick of his teasing tongue.

  He puts space between us, and I follow him up, even as he pulls his tight shirt off and tosses it to the floor, and my gaze drops, taking in every solid line of his bronze abdomen. He kneels between my thighs, our bodies close as I sit up, but not close enough.

  “All I’ve thought about every day in this room is your wet pussy. Lie back.” The low rumble is more of a commanding growl that grows inside my chest, before settling between my shifting thighs.

  The mattress is soft beneath my fingertips and I relax onto a fluffy pillow, as thoughts of what he’s going to do next slam through my mind one after the other. I pause there, blinking up at him, my chest rising and falling with so much tension burning through it.

  My arms cross and I pull away my t-shirt, throwing it to the floor to be lost with his. And then his watchful gaze is focused intently on every move I make. His arms are held loosely at his sides, and his legs are spread slightly as he kneels, not moving an inch as my fingers work the front clasp of my lace bra.

  The material slips down my shoulders, and I let it fall away with my attention watching the path his gaze trails down my body, along my neck, across my heavy breasts, and down my torso, before stopping right between my thighs.

  My fingers skim down my stomach, sliding over the silver button that’s holding his full attention. The moment I unbutton it, he comes closer.

  Finally.

  Soft lips press slowly to mine, teasing me with light kisses and slow rolls of his tongue, nipping my lower lip and dragging his course beard down my jawline and over my throat. His mouth never stops, patient in the way his lips and tongue taste my body. The slow way he takes his time, like he’s sipping a fine wine, reminds me that he’s been waiting for this. And suddenly, his need to wait makes sense. Every moment leading up to this has been foreplay between us, and I’m already on fire for him.

  He presses me back, my head hitting the boards he built just for me, and my gaze flicking up to the black lines burned into the wood.

  Intensify.

  Calloused hands skim lightly over my nipples before palming my breasts, his thumbs working the sensitive skin with slow, sweeping sensations. A gasp shakes from my lungs and his head dips lower at the sound.

  The roughness of his beard across my nipple is forgotten the moment his hot mouth takes it inside, and sucks so hard my back arches for him. Big palms slide beneath me, holding me still for the torture of his flicking tongue, and his teeth raking across my sensitive skin.

  “Rory,” I gasp, my hips rocking shamelessly into him as intense energy coils low in my core. My thoughts are running wild with what it would feel like to have his cock buried deep inside me.

  But he takes his time, lowering himself with slow kisses pressing down my ribs, my torso, my hips. He unzips my jeans without me even noticing, and with one hard pull, he’s got me nearly naked beneath him. His lips part and his chest heaves with a breath I can feel across my skin as he looks appreciatively down my body.

  When his gaze settles on the thin black underwear that’s covering my sex, his tongue slides along his lower lip in a way that just might break me if he doesn’t touch me soon.

  His emerald gaze meets mine with a predatory gleam that sends a shiver right through me. Palms grip my hips, his head lowers, and my big eyes never leave his as he opens his lips and seals his mouth over my panties.

  Oh. My. God.

  My thighs shake uncontrollably around him as his arms pull me harder against his mouth. His tongue is hot, devouring me through the lace, and sweeping hungry kisses right over my sex. His teeth nip roughly over my clit before slowly pulling my panties down, dragging the material across my legs and tossing them to the floor.

  Cool air sweeps over the damp skin between my thighs, and his hand brushes over my pubic bone agonizingly slowly, before two fingers slide down. He takes his time feeling every inch of my pussy before sinking inside. My lashes flutter as
his fingers curl just right, like he knows my body better than I do. His palm grinds hard against my sex with every thrust of his hand, and my hips fuck his hand as the strangest, powerful energy curls tightly inside me. It’s warmth, it’s fire, and it’s unbelievable pleasure that feels like climbing toward a climax you can never reach. It just keeps building and building with pressure.

  “Fuck.” My teeth grind, my body arches, but no matter what I do, all I feel is unreachable pleasure.

  A humming sort of laugh shakes through him and his hand slides away from me entirely.

  My eyes flash open and a breathless pout falls from my lips.

  But then, his mouth is on me. One sweep with the flat of his tongue across every part of my sex and then he focuses solely on my clit. He uses his entire mouth, opening wide and sucking hard, devouring me until I can’t even think straight.

  Just as my eyes close, he grabs a hold of my hips, and flips me.

  A scream tears from me and my nails dig into the headboard for support, and, just like that, I’m on top of him. Riding his face.

  And his mouth never stops.

  “Rory, fuck me. Please.”

  I’ve waited so long. This fucking magical assassin symbol is going to kill me.

  Death by Unattainable Orgasm, the front page of the New York Times will read.

  Tragic.

  I lift but his hands grip my thighs, allowing minimal space between us.

  “Have you ever squirted?” he asks, kissing my inner thigh, pressing slow, openmouthed kisses all over my body but never directly on my sex.

  My eyes narrow. This is a guy thing. This is a guy fantasy porno thing that he’s trying to set up.

  “No. I’m not… a squirter. It’s not a magical ability every woman has, Rory,” I say, the words coming out a bit too awkwardly for someone who’s still shaking from pre-orgasmic bliss.

  “Mmm,” he hums absently.

  “Don’t do that. Don’t do that mysterious lack of words thing you do.” I’m glaring down at the quiet man seated comfortably beneath my pussy.

  “Right here.” His fingers slide firmly from my clit to my opening and then back again in the slowest graze, which has my legs shaking all over again.