Contents
Title Page
About This Book
By Natasha Knight
Copyright Page
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Epilogue One
Epilogue Two
Scenes - Amazon
Other Books By Natasha Knight
From The Author
Deviant
Natasha Knight
Julien
I’m a hit man, an assassin. A deviant by all accounts. I never pretended to be the good guy.
She was the opposite.
But the minute she pulled the curtains back and saw my face, watched me screwing the blonde who happened to be my next mark, she sealed her own fate.
There could be no witnesses, ever.
I let it go on a few days though. Never closed the curtains, gave her one hell of a show. I liked it, liked seeing her get all hot and bothered. Her face so innocent, so…corruptible. And all that time she was watching, she had no idea I’d seen her, that I was watching her too.
But all good things must come to an end.
Imagine my surprise when I turned up to take care of her only to find two goons breaking down her door, weapons in hand.
Turned out she had a price on her head. Her stepbrother wanted her and he wanted her alive. I’d never been one to pass up an opportunity to collect the kind of money he was offering, especially if I could have some fun while I was at it.
It just never occurred to me she’d be anything more than my next mark.
Mia
Curiosity killed the kitten.
I’ll never forget the look in his eyes when he said those words.
When I watched them from the window, I didn’t suspect for a moment that he’d seen me, that he was watching me back. Not while he was doing what he was doing to the woman on her knees before him.
But then she turned up dead, and he turned up in my hotel room, waiting for me in the dark.
I didn’t think for one second him being there that night would save my life. I’d been on the run for two years, but my stepbrother had finally caught up with me. Or his two thugs had.
Finding out I had a quarter-of-a-million dollar bounty on my head convinced Julien I was more valuable alive than dead. But to collect it would mean returning me to my stepbrother, who had sworn to make me pay for what I’d done.
Julien was cruel. He was merciless. He scared the crap out of me. But there was something else, something he never wanted me to see. Inside, he was broken, like me.
My stepbrother was wrong if he thought I’d let him get his hands on me ever again. I had no intention of allowing that to happen, even if it meant I’d have to sleep with the devil to survive.
And I had no doubt Julien was the devil.
*Please note: This standalone dark romantic suspense is complete at 68K words. No cliffhanger, only a badass Alpha male who doesn’t seem like much of a hero at the start, who uses strong language, and likes dirty, kinky sex. Some readers may find him offensive.
By Natasha Knight
Captive, Mine
(With Trent Evans)
Theirs To Take
Deviant
Published by Stormy Night Publications
Taught To Kneel
Taming Emma
Captive’s Desire
Aching To Submit
Her Rogue Knight
Taken By The Beast
Claimed By The Beast
Taming Megan
Dangerous Defiance
The Firefighter’s Girl
Taming Naia
Given To The Savage
Amy’s Strict Doctor
Protective Custody
Collections
What The Doctor Ordered
Published by Cobblestone Press
Pierced
Other Collections
Sci Spanks 2014: A Collection of Spanking Science Fiction Romance Stories (Seasonal Spankings)
The Disciplinarian: A Collection of Short Spanking Stories
Copyright © 2015 by Natasha Knight
All rights reserved.
Cover Design by CT Cover Creations
Editing and Formatting by Trent Evans
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and as such, any similarity to existing persons, places or events must be considered purely coincidental.
This book contains content that is not suitable for readers aged 17 and under.
For mature readers only.
First Electronic Edition: July 2015
Acknowledgments
Thanks to my absolutely wonderful friend Casey McKay, who actually reads all of my manuscripts when they’re not yet fit to be read. I so appreciate your honest feedback. I know you’ve got 1001 things going on and yet you always offer your time and help. I’m incredibly grateful for our friendship, and so appreciate that I can just be my weird self with you.
Chapter One
Julien
I’d been watching her for the last three days.
I didn’t know what it was I found so appealing about the girl. She was a sneaky little peeping Tom. Maybe it was her pretty green eyes, or how wide they grew at the things she watched us do. At the things I made the girl whose ass I was currently fucking do. Regardless, her fate was sealed the moment she pushed the curtains aside and saw my face.
No witnesses, no matter what. That was rule number one. It had to be.
She hadn’t yet realized I’d seen her, that she was being watched as she herself was doing the watching. Her attention was fully absorbed by the fucking. But I studied her face, saw her mouth open, her little pink tongue dart out to lick those full lips, her throat work as she swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing a deep red.
Her face imprinted on my mind. I’d recognize her anywhere now. It was one of the things I was so good at — a blessing and a curse all at once. Never forget a face. Never forget their eyes, how they change when they realize what’s happening, when terror grips them.
Forgetting was a gift. People spent their lives chasing the past, trying to hold on to something long gone. Desperate to remember. Me? I wished I could forget.
It had been three days since she’d first seen us. I was sure it was by accident, or at least it had been the first time. Her room was situated directly across the courtyard of the cheap little hotel. She’d pulled the curtains apart to open her window when she’d stumbled upon the sight of us fucking. I’d ducked my head out of sight, and wouldn’t have thought much of it, but when, a moment later, the small hand pulled the curtains just a little wider, just wide enough to see, my curiosity had gotten the best of me.
It had been her face. It was just so innocent, so… corruptible. Irresistible to a man like me. I always liked to play with them first, fuck with them a little. It was cruel, reprehensible, really. I knew it, but it didn’t make me enjoy it any less.
The blonde
began to squirm beneath me, almost stealing my attention from the woman in the window. I glanced down at her, at the mass of dyed hair spilling over her back, mascara smeared across her face, her mouth open. I looked at her ass, at my cock disappearing inside it. She’d been a good fuck, but this would be the last time. Three days was long enough. I had a job to do, after all, and the girl in the window would already delay me. I couldn’t exactly assassinate my mark in front of her. She’d freak out, and that was more attention than I needed.
Gripping the blonde’s hair tightly, I tugged hard, giving her a grin she likely thought a smile before pushing her face into the mattress to shut her up. She mewled and I rubbed her clit with my free hand, turning that sound into something else. Pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain. They never knew which it was; there was never any clear line for them.
With the blonde’s face buried in the blankets, I studied my little voyeur. She was still there, still watching — but her hand had disappeared into her pants. I’d make her show me just what those fingers were doing when the time came. That made me grin, but when she looked up and her green gaze met mine, I could almost hear her gasp at the shock of being caught. It was then my grin widened into something else, something meant to scare.
I gripped the blonde’s hips, all while daring the woman who watched to draw the curtains closed, to turn away. I fucked the woman before me then, really fucked her, and just before I came inside that tight ass, my little voyeur blinked as if coming out of a trance, her face going bright red before she pulled the curtains closed.
My low growl made the blonde look over her shoulder. I met her gaze, my own hardening as I forced myself to remember who she was, the things she’d done, and the job I still had to do. That part always made my cock harder. Any person with morals would probably worry about that, about liking this sort of work, but I had never claimed to have any of those. Or if I had, they’d been beaten out of me years ago. That was what made me so good at my job.
I looked down at her asshole, at my cock as it plunged deep, knowing I hurt and gave pleasure at once, not caring which was the dominant of the two as I exploded inside her. But when I closed my eyes, it was the voyeur’s eyes I saw, not the woman who had my cock buried inside her.
If only the bitch before me knew how lucky she was. She’d just been granted an extra day to live.
Chapter Two
Mia
I had to remind myself there were worse things than being on the run, and certainly worse things than being on the run in southern Italy. The waiter set my espresso down, momentarily interrupting my thoughts, which wasn’t a bad thing.
What had I been thinking watching them? Watching him? Was I so hard up?
I covered my face in shame. Well, I couldn’t not watch. He was incredibly good looking for one thing, blue eyes, dark hair, scruff along his jaw, and a grin that was wicked, devious even. I imagined he was a man who didn’t hear the word no very often, at least not from women. Then there was his body. Big, cut with muscle and heavily tattooed. That last part intrigued me while scaring the crap out of me. There was something about him, something about the ink covering most of his chest and arms. I just knew that for someone like him, it wasn’t about vanity. Each of those tattoos meant something.
Watching him fuck her the way he had? All I had to do was imagine it was me on my knees before him and I came. Hard.
This had been going on for the last three days. I’d been spying — to my utter disgrace — on the couple in the hotel room across the courtyard as they made love.
No, wait. There was no love making that I could see. He’d been fucking her. And I’d stood there like a perverted — and horny — peeping Tom unable to look away. And today, he’d caught me.
I groaned, ashamed, rubbed my temples, then picked up my coffee and took a sip. This wouldn’t do, I needed something stronger. The waiter walked by and I ordered a shot of vodka, tossing it down when he brought it, looking around at the noisy little café. This was my favorite neighborhood spot and I began to recognize the regulars here. Some part of me longed for that familiarity for myself, even if it was an impossibility, given the circumstances of my stay in Italy.
I’d been in the city of Cosenza for six weeks now, had rented one of the small studio apartments the hotel offered for long-term guests. I’d been hopping from city to city for the last couple of years and I was tired. I missed home more than I thought I would. Well, not home so much as my friends, but when you testify against your stepbrother, the son of a man whose family has earned their fortune on the suffering of others, and put him away for a good chunk of his life, you can’t exactly go back.
I wasn’t even sure if stepbrother was the right term. My sister, Tanya, who had practically raised me since I was five, had married Samuel St. Rose when I was thirteen, and she was eighteen. He was in his mid-forties. Jason and Allison were Samuel’s kids from his previous marriage. Although technically the term stepbrother and stepsister didn’t work, given our ages, it was what I called them. Never mind the fact that Tanya was just a year older than Jason.
My sister had known all along what Samuel St. Rose did for a living. She’d married him anyway, and I understood that. We’d come from nothing. He had everything. And on top of that, she had fallen in love with him. I think it was Tanya who had been the most surprised at that. We’d lived on the street for stretches of time on two separate occasions. She was tough as nails. Samuel changed that, and in a way, I was at least glad for that part of things. Glad that in her short life, she had had at least that.
My friendship with Allison, my stepsister, was another one of the good things that came out of this. And truly, Samuel had been kind to me. Had treated me like his own kid. He did it for Tanya, I knew that. He had loved her. But when everything had happened, he had chosen his son over me. I wasn’t his by blood, and he’d do whatever he had to do to protect his son. Even if he knew that son didn’t deserve his protection.
I didn’t realize my sister had been trying to protect me until it was too late.
Ironically, I received her letter on the same day as I received news of her death. She’d tried to call me twice that week, but I’d been too busy to talk to her. Maybe if I had, she would have told me what had happened, what she’d been thinking about doing. Maybe I could have helped her. She’d been scared and I hadn’t known it. And when Samuel had found out what she’d done, all bets were off. Suddenly, he wasn’t so nice to me, and between him and Jason, I knew the danger I was in. It was then I’d decided to go to the police, to tell what Jason, my stepbrother, had done to me, what he had done to my sister. Tell them what kind of man he really was. Tell it before he hurt anyone else.
But by doing that, by going against him, I’d gone against the family and broken a promise I’d never wanted to make.
When Jason ended up in prison, he vowed revenge, and I believed him. Samuel wasn’t as reckless as Jason, but what I saw in his eyes the day his son was sentenced scared me to death. I received a promise that I’d be made to pay for my betrayal. We were family after all. Family didn’t rat out family, they didn’t talk about what happened behind closed doors, and certainly not after an agreement had been made and money had exchanged hands.
I scoffed at that. Family. No, we were certainly not family.
Catching the waiter’s eye, I ordered another shot and drank that down too before reaching into my bag to locate my wallet. It was late, just past midnight. I’d have to go back at some point. I’d just leave the curtains drawn until the couple checked out. Surely, they’d be gone soon.
But just as I stood to leave, the door opened — and I stopped dead.
This cannot be happening.
I tried to tell myself I was mistaken, that it wasn’t him. What were the chances he’d walk into the same cafe, after all?
But it was him nonetheless.
He was dressed in a dark suit. Actually, it was the first time I’d seen him dressed at all. He was taller than I had thought, but the
n again, I hadn’t been paying attention to his height when I’d been peering between the curtains. I’d been too busy watching them fuck. His dark hair was still wet; he’d probably showered before leaving the hotel room, and now that he stood just a few feet from me, I saw that gray dusted the scruff along his jaw, making him look even more fierce now than he had when he’d been in the room across the courtyard.
He stood there, scanning the café as if he owned the place. He finally turned his gaze in my direction and when those ice blue eyes found mine, my heart took a nose-dive to my belly.
He paused, scanning me from head to toe, and when he returned his gaze to mine and the corner of his mouth curved upward, I was left without a doubt that he recognized me too.
My chest grew tight and I couldn’t breathe for a minute. One word, one thought, one sensation made me shudder. It was the same thing I’d felt the moment we’d locked eyes from across the distance of the courtyard.
Danger.
He took a step in my direction, and I blinked back to life. I wasn’t about to stick around, not now that he stood in the same room as me. Gripping my purse, I hustled quickly around the tables, slipped out the door and dashed into the street.
Chapter Three
Julien
I watched Mia St. Rose practically run out of the little café, her eyes huge with surprise when she’d seen me. It had been there again, that innocence in those emerald depths, and I almost felt a pang of guilt at what I’d have to do.
Almost.
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