Tainted Love

by Drake, Tabatha

  She’s turned on.

  I grip her face in my hands and steal a few delicious kisses for myself before I force myself to stop and breathe.

  “Thank you,” she whispers to me.

  “For what?”

  She laughs. “You saved my life!”

  I shrug. “It was nothing.”

  “Throwing your body over mine in a hail of bullets doesn’t exactly count as nothing.”

  “Hey, I saved Antony Zappia’s life, too. You don’t see him getting all hot and bothered.”

  Lucy slaps my chest with both palms. “Dick.”

  I snatch her wrists and pull her back in. “And what the fuck was with that stunt you pulled at his table? If we’re really going to keep score here, I saved your ass twice tonight.”

  “Oh, please.” She jerks free. “I had that taken care of.”

  “Did you?”

  “The only thing an old prick like him gets off on more than money is the chance at putting a woman in her place,” she says. “I think you know better than anyone that besting me at poker isn’t going to be so easy for little Marty.”

  I suck on my lip as my cock twitches in my pants. “Goddamn, Ms. Vaughn…” I push off the door, flick the lock, and step around her toward the kitchen. “Color me impressed.”

  She follows me down the hall. “I don’t suppose you cook.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I do feel a little cheated out of dinner.” She drops her clutch onto the counter.

  “Me, too.”

  I throw open the refrigerator and scan the shelves, dismissing items as they neglect to entice me enough. I quickly spot a small, transparent box of bright, red strawberries and my lips twitch.

  Perfect.

  I pop the box open and drop it on the counter between us. Lucy smiles as she sees them and instantly snatches the largest one off the top to sink her teeth into. I grow harder just listening to the soft suckling sound her lips make around it.

  “Mmm,” she says, swallowing. “That hits the spot.”

  I take a strawberry for myself to enjoy and I watch her do the same, completely at ease around her. My stomach purrs in satisfaction as the night’s adrenaline wears off and I realize how hungry I am. Her eyes shift about in silence, noticing the small details of the kitchen I honestly know very little about. She’s steady and calm, almost as if the last hour of her life never even happened.

  “Lucy.”

  She wipes a bit of moisture off her chin. “What?”

  I swallow a delicious bite down. “You don’t seem nearly as rattled as I expected you’d be after dodging bullets.”

  She licks the pink juice off her lips. “I guess you make me feel safe.”

  It’s a good answer — truthful, too, if I’m reading her face right — but ridiculously naïve as well. Guilt overwhelms any hunger I have inside. She’s a sweet girl. Smart, talented, and incredibly beautiful. What the hell is she thinking?

  What am I thinking even letting this happen?

  “Mr. Hart…” she says, quickly sucking a sticky fingertip. Her eyes drop and she pauses to gather her words. “What did you mean when you said I tasted like a good kill?”

  The recent memory of her spread eagle on my bed, screaming my name, overwhelms me. I turn around to grab a dishtowel from the drawer and hand it to her to wipe her dripping fingers clean.

  “Have you ever taken a life before?” I ask her, already knowing the answer.

  “No,” she replies quickly, out of reflex alone.

  “It’s… intoxicating,” I say, keeping my voice low. She doesn’t realize it, but she leans further over the counter. “It isn’t for everyone, of course… but for me, it is. It’s why I get up in the morning.”

  Her eyes narrow but not from fear. She’s fascinated. “Why?”

  Now is the moment. I could easily scare her away right now. I could make it so she’ll never want to see me again. It’s honestly the best option for both of us. It’s the right option. The shiny, white end of an impossibly gray moral spectrum.

  But I don’t want to.

  I’m a selfish prick.

  I lick my lips, tasting the sweet fruit on them but it’s not nearly as delicious as she is. Her eyes drop to my mouth and little speckles of passion shine through the green color.

  “Put your palms on the counter,” I tell her.

  Lucy rights herself as confusion spreads across her little face. Still, she does as I told her to while I circle the counter and stand behind her. I sense the shivers taking hold of her body as I press against her back. I lean over and slide my fingers up her legs, drawing her dress upward to settle above her sweet, tight ass.

  She glances back with teasing eyes. “You aren’t going to tell me?”

  I wrap my fingers around her neck, feeling the quick pump of her pulse on my thumb. “I’d rather show you,” I whisper in her ear.

  She quivers in my grasp as fear mixes with the adrenaline in her veins. I reach my other hand between her thighs and I draw a line across her panties to feel the wet pool gathering along her slit. Her body is begging — practically screaming — for it and it probably has been since the moment I kissed her in her apartment tonight. She sighs with pleasure and I slide my zipper down to free my hungry cock.

  I lay a hand on her back to guide her forward and she sinks onto her elbows. Leaning in, I let her feel my swelling hardness push against her ripe folds.

  “There’s a moment…” I say, “right before the light disappears from a person’s eyes when I feel utterly invincible.”

  I push her panties aside and slide my hard cock inside of her. Her body instantly stiffens in surprise. Honestly, so does mine. She’s so tight and slick, I almost shoot inside of her but the promise of more of her keeps me together.

  “It’s powerful and warm, like a damn womb. I’ve scavenged the whole earth in search of a better feeling.”

  I fuck her slowly, feeling every inch of her stretch out around me. She moans with every thrust, each one sounding louder in my ears. I reach around and wrap my fingers around her neck again. She falls silent, holding back the noises begging to cry out from her throat.

  “I found it inside of you, Lucy Vaughn.”

  Her pulse explodes against my fingers. The dangerous cocktail of ecstasy and fear take her over and she falls even deeper into my embrace.

  “I could snap your neck right now,” I whisper in her ear. I squeeze, feeling the wild thump against my fingertips. “Does that frighten you?”

  “Yes,” she answers on her breath.

  “Do you think I will?”

  “No.” Her answer is immediate like she didn’t even have to think twice about it.

  I quicken my thrust, burning a hole right through her. She cries out even louder, bucking her hips back to send me deeper inside.

  “Be mine and I’ll make you feel this way every night.”

  I slide my hand up to her mouth and she instantly parts her lips to take my finger inside.

  “Do as I tell you and I’ll give you everything.”

  She moans around my finger, vibrating it down to the bone.

  “Say my name and I’ll be yours.”

  “Dante,” she gasps.

  I smile. “Again.”

  “Dante!”

  “Come for me, Lucy. Do it now.”

  Her body obeys me, gripping my cock so tight inside I see red. I let her enjoy it. She throws her head back, screaming with insatiable lust. I lay kisses along her neck until she falls against the counter again.

  I pull out of her and spin her around to face me. She kisses me, hard and wet, tender moans still slipping out of her throat.

  “Get on your knees, Lucy Vaughn.”

  She lowers down, her hands on my body the entire time, licking her thin lips as she goes. Her tongue gets to work, lapping at my tip and shaft, cleaning her own taste off me.

  I reach out and grip the counter as the force of her mouth takes hold of me. She knows what she’s doing, and s
he takes great pleasure in proving it to me.

  I lay a hand on the back of her neck as she takes me inside, all the way into her fucking throat. I clench, feeling her sharp teeth tease me. It’s pure, blissful torment and it will bring me to my fall faster than the damn Roman Empire.

  I take my cock in hand and pull it out, despite her objections. “Show me your tongue.”

  She obeys, tilting her head back and sticking it out. I stroke myself off, aiming my tip inside her mouth. Her little, green eyes beg me for it like a thirsty animal and I would be a fucking monster if I didn’t give it to her. She’s earned it, after all.

  I shoot inside, letting the pool of white form on her delicate, pink tongue. She moans for it, pleasure crossing her eyes once more as it drips along her taste buds. I release her neck and she closes her lips around me, sucking me dry as I groan with delight.

  “Good girl,” I whisper, wiping her chin. I pull her off the floor and kiss her again, sucking on her numb, tired lips. “Go upstairs. I’m not done with you yet.”

  Lucy smiles, her tits practically spilling out of her tight, black dress. She pushes up onto her toes for one more kiss, one that I can’t bring myself to deny her. Her lips taste so sweet, like warm milk and honey.

  I almost object as she pulls away and walks down the hall, her little ass swaying in the most perfect way as she goes.

  Fuck me. It wasn’t all a fluke. That orgasm felt as intense as the last one. Perhaps even more so with those adorable, sultry eyes staring daggers into mine as I shot down her fucking throat.

  I’ve spent my whole life traveling the world, working for all sorts of different, horrible people, some even worse than myself. I’ve gone undercover plenty of times, been shot at even more, but in my entire career, I’ve never once been compromised.

  Not like this.

  I feel it deep inside, taking over the only part of me I thought could never change.

  The killer inside.

  I follow the sound of her heels on the floor, clacking up the stairs toward my bedroom just like I told her to do. Little Lucy Vaughn. From the moment I met her, she’s proved to be nothing but a challenge. One I gladly accepted but a challenge nonetheless. She shouldn’t be here. She’s smarter than this, better than this.

  “Lucy.” She pauses at the top of the stairs and looks down at me from the shadows. “Why are you still here? With me?”

  “Because I want to be.”

  And just like that, she turns around and walks into my bedroom.

  My god. Either it’s finally happened and I’m becoming something else in front of her very eyes or she’s just as crazy as I am.

  I walk up the stairs to my room to find her lying naked on the bed, wearing nothing but her heels and a smile.

  Definitely crazy.

  But I’m not complaining.

  Chapter 12

  Lucy

  I roll over onto my side to find Dante lying next to me. It’s barely morning yet. The world is still dark and cold outside… and he’s still here with me.

  I keep waking up, thinking that it’ll be the time when I look over at his side and he’ll be gone. Off to work. Off to do whatever the hell he does while I’m not looking.

  I wiggle my feet, finally regaining feeling in my toes. Tonight was intense and by intense, I mean holy fucking shit. Dante Hart. Mafia hitman. Master of my cunt.

  His chest rises and falls in the dark. I look lower, my curiosity piquing as I slowly push the comforter down to his waist.

  The black eyes of the cobra stare back at me. I’ve never seen it before on anyone and these mob guys are all about showing off their ink to anyone who’ll even glance in their direction. I reach out to touch it, careful not to put any pressure on his tanned skin.

  Dante fidgets in the sheets. I pull my hand back but not fast enough. He snatches it out of the air and opens his eyes.

  “Ms. Vaughn…” he growls.

  “Sorry,” I whisper.

  His lips curl as he twists his arm around me and pulls me in against him. “You’re cold,” he says.

  I tremble against his warm body, feeling his taut abs against my back. His lips fall to my shoulder and they purse against my skin, sending little blasts of pleasure throughout my arms.

  “Mr. Hart…”

  “Yes?”

  I turn my head to look at him and his lips graze my cheek. “You’re still here.”

  “Where else would I be?” he asks, his warm breath tickling my skin.

  “I don’t know.”

  He draws me even closer to him with his strong arms. “Relax.” His lips crush mine, feeding the lingering desire still torturing my nerves. “Get some sleep.”

  I kiss him back. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because if I do, you’ll be gone when I wake up…”

  “Some might say that’s a good thing.”

  “Dante—”

  He bolts up and balances over me on both arms. “I love the way you say that…” He kisses me and I feel him growing hard against my thigh.

  I grin. “Dante.”

  His lips attack my neck, leaving hard bites on my flesh. I wince with delicious pain, aching all over as he descends beneath the sheets. He cups my breasts and pinches my nipples to life as I writhe under him, begging for him to go lower.

  I moan as his stubbled face rubs between my thighs and his heavy breath strikes my folds. His rough hands push my knees farther apart so that I’m practically doing the splits on his face. He cups my ass, lifting me toward his working mouth and he tongues my clit with devious intent.

  I cry out at the ceiling. My toes immediately curl. He locks his lips around my bud, sucking softly as my hips jerk beneath him. He holds me there, refusing to let me take control, lapping up every bit of moisture that pours out of me.

  “Dante!”

  He groans against me, sending fierce vibrations through my core for me to get off on. I try to hold back, to let this pleasure last longer, but he plays me like his own fucking instrument. I’ll make whatever noise he wants me to, when he wants me to, and I can do nothing but lie here and let him pluck my strings.

  Waves crash in around me and my entire body rides them on his face. He refuses to let me move, wrapping his arms around my legs to keep his tongue locked on me. It’s too much. It’s far too sensitive but I’m not strong enough to pull away. I moan louder, screaming his name, squeezing his thick hair with my trembling hands, praying for a reprieve.

  Dante’s tongue slows down, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps me going, pushing through the waves of ecstasy, forcing me around again while I squirm in his hands. Just as he senses me coming down, he picks up his speed until another orgasm tears through me.

  “Oh — fuck fuck—!”

  I slap his forehead, fighting back, begging for him to release me. Finally, he laughs beneath the covers and his hot tongue sheaths itself back inside his mouth. He climbs up my body, kissing my skin as he goes, and pins my arms above my head. I heave beneath him, completely out of control of my body. Even my toes have gone numb again.

  “There,” he growls, my scent on his breath. “How do you feel now?”

  “Exhausted.”

  “Good.” He collapses onto his side and holds me close again. “Now, go to fucking sleep.”

  I laugh before drifting off in his thick arms.

  * * *

  “And what’s that position called?”

  “It’s called a warrior 2,” I explain as I extend my arms out parallel to the floor, one in front and the other behind me, and shift my legs into a forward lunge. The silk, blue robe slides across my skin as I move, leaving wonderful tickles that I just can’t get enough of.

  Dante stares at me from his bed with his arms resting behind his neck. White scars lie scattered across his skin, illuminated by the morning sun. Each one tells a story, one that I’m wildly curious to hear.

  “And you do this every morning?”

  I nod, pushing further into
the stretch. “Yoga and other various things. Don’t you have some kind of routine? You’re in great shape.”

  He smirks. “Not really.”

  “Well, you should have one,” I say, taking another deep breath before rising out of it.

  “How about…” He rolls onto his side. “Every morning, I watch you as you do your routine. Does that count?”

  I chuckle and lower my arms. “It’s a start.”

  “Excellent.”

  I wander back to the bed. “So, does this mean I’ll be staying over more often?”

  “It might.”

  I hop onto the bed, smiling wide, and slip back beneath the covers with him. “Well, I can think of worse ways to spend my nights.” I mount him and straddle his thick lap, drawing my fingertip along the curve of the black cobra’s tail on his abs. He grows hard beneath me as I lean over and kiss him, feeling the stubble of his rugged face against mine.

  We pause as the front door opens and closes downstairs.

  “That’ll be Spencer…” he says, sliding me off. He stands up, completely naked and semi-hard, and reaches for his pants.

  I grow nervous, picturing that harsh, golden stare. “Do you need me to leave?” I ask.

  “No.” He laughs, throwing a shirt over his head. “Stay here. He and I have some business to discuss.”

  “What kind of business?”

  “Work business.”

  “Sounds real fucking exciting.”

  He side-eyes me. “Stay here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He walks away, leaving the door slightly ajar. I listen for his feet tapping against the stairs, but I barely hear him. For a guy so big, he sure doesn’t make a whole lot of noise. No wonder he managed to break into my apartment without me knowing it.

  I fall back against the pillows, my eyes twitching about for a clock but there’s nothing in sight. I have another rehearsal today at noon and I’m already in hot water with Cynthia over yesterday’s poor performance. I couldn’t help it, though. I was far too busy thinking about Dante’s huge talent that I couldn’t tap into my own, but I couldn’t exactly tell her that without getting the sassy side-eye from her.