One Wicked Night

by Avril Ashton

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  eXtasy eBooks

  www.extasybooks.com

  Copyright ©2011 by Avril Ashton

  First published in 2011, 2011

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  One Wicked Night

  Dedication

  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

  About the Author

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  Justice Alexandre kills for a living. A lover of the shadows, he makes no excuses for what he does. Besides, people bore him. He has no use for them...until a hot summer night in a Toronto nightclub. A woman with misery in her eyes whispers three words in his ear, shattering his world like shards of crystal at his feet.

  She wants to lose herself—or maybe find herself, Myka Prentiss can't readily decide. What she does know is the dark stranger hugging the shadows at the back of the club calls to her in ways she can't explain. Putting fear aside, accepting the heady pull, she makes her move and asks for one nameless night. Nothing between them but hot sweat and tangled sheets.

  He accepts.

  When they're done, she walks away, wanting more. Back to an unfulfilled life, she's comforted only by her memories...until her dark stranger shows up at her door with an announcement.

  He's been hired to kill her.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  One Wicked Night

  Copyright (C) 2011 Avril Ashton

  ISBN: 978-1-55487-853-6

  Cover art by Martine Jardin

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books

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  One Wicked Night

  The Wicked Two

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  By

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  Avril Ashton

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Dedication

  I dedicate this to the memory of Donna, and as always, to the Spousal Equivalent and the offspring, who remain far too understanding of my attention being always divided. I love you. Carshell, Ronshell, Andy, Michelle, Kenton, Ashley and Giovanni. Dreams come true, believe in them.

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  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter One

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  He personified darkness.

  Seated alone in the crowded bar, Myka Prentiss blinked moisture from her eyes. She pushed the still-raw wound of betrayal to the back of her mind. For now, she wanted to watch the dark stranger. He caught her attention the instant he came through the doors of Club NV. His movements were that of a dancer, all stealth and precision, carrying him with a rhythm that didn't come from the loud music blasting in time to her frantic heartbeat.

  Mr. Dark tried to blend in, but his darkness intrigued her.

  She tossed back the last of her ginger ale, licked her lips, and studied him through the crowd. He stood at the back of the club, wide shoulders against the wall, apart from anyone else. A loner. Maybe that's why she noticed him. His aloneness appeared self-inflicted, while hers was carefully orchestrated by her father, Senator Prentiss.

  Not tonight. Here, away from her father's heavy-handed influence, she'd remedy that. If only for a few measly hours, she'd take back her life. Live it on her terms, not on those set by the senator's bigger picture.

  She took a deep breath, hopped off the stool, and headed in the stranger's direction.

  Tonight, he'd be hers.

  She sidestepped the sweaty, writhing bodies on the dance floor and stopped in front of him. He straightened, waited for her to speak. It was difficult to make out his expression in the darkness, but she felt his intense gaze on her. Even his eyes were dark, silver strobe lights reflected in their depths. For a brief second, her nerves nearly got the best of her. What would the senator do if he found out?

  She shook herself mentally. He wouldn't find out, they weren't even in the US.

  Mr. Dark's mouth moved, but she couldn't hear his voice so she rose on tiptoe. He leaned down and the scent of cigar smoke and man teased her nostrils, heating her blood in a rush.

  She inhaled, then brought her lips close to his ear. “Outside, two minutes.” Tearing her gaze from the smooth column of his neck, she walked off, suddenly too nervous to look back and see if he followed.

  Once outside, Myka stood against the exterior wall of the club and waited. The whisper of cool air on the nape of her neck felt like a lover's caress. She crossed her arms over her chest, then changed her mind and let them hang loose at her sides.

  He wasn't coming.

  What was she thinking? She shouldn't have approached him, but she'd wanted to prove her life was still her own. Pretend what she'd overheard wasn't true, and her father hadn't sold her to the highest bidder for a senate seat. But he had and here she was, grasping at anything to dull the pain.

  The doors opened and Mr. Dark stepped outside. Breath left her body, her spine tingled. His gaze clashed with hers as he approached like a lion stalking its prey. Dark clothes cloaked his bulky frame—leather jacket, shirt, jeans and boots. His features looked like they'd been chiseled from the finest, darkest chocolate. Sharp, dark and smooth. He had high cheekbones, slanted eyes, and just a hint of stubble on his square jaw, framing full lips made to kiss and taste. A voice in the back of her head yelled run, but she ignored it. She sensed he'd like the chase.

  He stood in front of her, chest to chest, and placed a hand on the wall behind her. Then he leaned in, licked her earlobe and caught it between his teeth.

  Her breath hitched, knees wobbled. A whimper left her throat as her pussy flooded.

  "You beckoned?” A Caribbean accent gave his deep voice an exotic flavor.

  Nipples hardening, Myka stayed with the bold approach. “I want you. Under me, or on top of me, but definitely inside me."

  He pushed off the wall and rubbed his jaw, lips curved in a sensual smile. “A woman who knows what she wants. I like it."

  "No names. One time only.” No matter how hurt she was by her father's actions, she wouldn't intentionally seek to hurt
him.

  Mr. Dark laughed, a husky sound that did naughty things to her spine. “Done. Let me get my ride.” He walked back into the club.

  She barely had time to catch her breath before he pulled into the alley on a motorcycle. A sleek, growling silver beast.

  He tossed her the lone helmet. “Hop on."

  She fumbled with the shiny black headgear, her wet palms making the simple act a chore. Finally, she secured the strap and hopped on, adjusting herself as close to him as possible. Cheek pressed flat against his jacket, she wrapped her arms around his waist and hung on for dear life as he roared off into the night.

  Ten minutes later, he'd secured a room at a hotel close to Toronto's Pearson airport. She waited by his side as he unlocked the door, trying to ignore the heat spreading through her body. A voice in her head questioned the sense of what she was about to do, but she put that on pause—it sounded too much like the senator's.

  She followed him into the room and shut the door behind her. He flicked the light switch next to the door and bright yellow light illuminated the musky room as he turned to her. Eyes the color of onyx bored into her, making her take a step back. She hadn't noticed the crimson teardrop tattoo at the corner of his left eye. Strange, it seemed to soften his features.

  "This is your show,” he said. “I'm following your lead."

  Myka appreciated him allowing her to take control. It must have been hard though. Somehow, she didn't see him relinquishing control often.

  "Good.” She moved away from him, taking a seat at the only available chair in the non-descript room. Head down, she pulled off her boots while he sat on the bed and did the same. Her eyes focused on her task—she wasn't ready to look at him—but the heat of his stare burned her skin. This wasn't the time for second thoughts—here was the opportunity to be whomever she wanted. Tonight she could be someone other than the senator's daughter.

  She grabbed it and held on tight.

  Finished with her boots, she walked over to where he sat with his palms laid flat on his thighs. She slid her hands up his chest inch by inch, then caressed the back of his head and spoke the first thing that came to mind. “I want to lick you all over."

  His smiled, and the effect nearly stole her breath. “I don't mind being licked."

  She tugged on his neck and he got to his feet. On tiptoe, she pressed her lips to his. He opened his mouth at the touch of her lips, and she eagerly swept her tongue inside. Myka tasted the rum and coke he drank earlier, plus another flavor she couldn't define, but suspected was uniquely his.

  Their tongues slid over each other, their moans echoing. His hard arms brought her flush against his chest as he deepened the kiss. Between their bodies, his cock grew thicker, harder. Her lashes fluttered closed on a sigh as her damp pussy purred its approval. One taste and she was hooked.

  Myka wrapped her arms around his neck, then drew back and flicked her tongue over the seam of his mouth. He shrugged out of his jacket and t-shirt while she unbuckled his belt and undid his jeans. With his chest and torso exposed, she bent and flicked her tongue over his left nipple.

  His breath hitched and his body drew taut as his blunt fingers dug into her scalp.

  Feathering kisses over his chest, she ran her hands across the wide expanse of smooth, delicious flesh. His heart beat furiously under her palm and she smiled at the way he reacted to her touch.

  She moved to drop to her knees, so she could get up-close and personal with his cock, but he caught her arm. Eyebrow raised, she looked up at him.

  Sharp lines stood out on his angular face. “My turn.” His voice sounded deeper, his accent more pronounced.

  Myka straightened. No complaints here. Smiling, she took both his hands and brought them to her breasts. He cupped the aching mounds, brushing his thumbs over her sensitive nipples. Her knees buckled and she let her eyes drift close.

  "Turnabout is fair play,” he growled.

  Her eyes flew open. He suckled her nipple through the material of her top. Heat speared her pulsing core, then spiraled through her body.

  "Ah, God.” She reached up, untied her halter, then pulled out the pins holding her heavy hair in place.

  Mr. Dark dropped to his knees. Her breath stuttered, the hairpins fell unheeded to the floor as he went to work on unfastening her jeans.

  His tongue slid into her navel and flicked over the diamond hidden there. Her stomach muscles contracted and her wet core pulsed. He pushed the jeans and underwear off her hips and down her legs. Licking his lips, he leaned in, peering at the tattoo above her pubic area—her twenty-fifth birthday present to herself.

  "Slippery when wet,” he read the words out loud, then looked up at her. “Let's test that theory.” His finger made its way between her legs.

  She tensed, then widened her stance. The hand on her waist tightened as his lips and teeth nipped at the soft skin of her belly. A thick finger slid into her. She gasped, inner muscles tightening around him.

  "Fuck!” he hissed, the fingers at her hips digging into her flesh.

  She rolled her hips, letting her head fall back. Her hands clutched his head as a wave of fire washed over her. He withdrew his finger and they locked eyes. He licked his finger clean, groaning at the taste.

  Pulling away, he lifted her off her feet and walked a couple steps to tumble her onto the bed. He pounced before she stopped bouncing on the mattress, his mouth closing over a nipple, a finger plunging into her aching pussy.

  Strangled sounds came from her throat, but she was deaf to them. She bucked and writhed. Blood pounded in her ears. This stranger made her feel things she'd never felt. Took her places she'd never been.

  He added two fingers down below while his tongue glided over her nipple. Wet, erotic noises blended with her groans as he sucked. He bit down on her as his fingers scraped her walls, beckoning her to come.

  The orgasm started at her toes, curled them and raced upward, bowing her body under the force. Stiff fingers gripped the sheets as she arched off the bed. Her cries echoed through the room.

  She fell back onto the bed, breath ragged, chest heaving, and sweat dripping down her face. He kissed her eyes, her lips.

  "Condoms?” she asked.

  Nodding, he got up to retrieve them, tugging off his jeans as he went. Lines in a foreign language were tattooed on his right shoulder. She watched him put the rubber on and swallowed. Her throat felt raw, overused. He crawled back up her body, his fingers once again dipping between her legs. She spread them wide, a fresh rush of heat pouring from her.

  He positioned himself between her thighs and she reached between them to glide a finger down his length. He stiffened and groaned, then thrust himself into her palm. She caressed him through the condom, savoring his heat and hardness. One last squeeze, then she laid back and guided him to her entrance.

  In a sharp thrust, he buried himself to the hilt. She cried out even as her legs rose to wrap around his waist and pull him closer. Lowering himself on his elbows, his hungry mouth found hers. Joined, they began to move. She swallowed his groans as he pounded into her, filled her.

  Myka broke the kiss and panted. “God, yes...fuck me!” She dragged her nails down his back.

  He froze and lifted his head to stare at her.

  She sank her teeth into her lower lip and met his eyes. “What's wrong?"

  His nostrils flared. “Do that again.” The three snarled words made her body clench.

  "Do—do what?"

  "Your nails on my back. Again.” A harsh command as he waited, staring into her eyes.

  He wants me to mark him? Her fingers flexed where they rested on his hips. She slid her palms up the smooth flesh of his back, cupped his shoulders. Lifting her hip, she shimmied on his cock. The muscled arms on either side of her head trembled. With a lick of her lips, she raked her nails down his back. Hard. Deep.

  A strangled groan left him as he shuddered. The tendons in his neck bulged. He reared back and slammed into her.

  Myka cried o
ut. Pain and pleasure. A wicked mixture of the two raced through her veins, scorching her. Another climax hovered on the periphery and she closed her eyes, reaching for it.

  Her lover switched up his tempo—sank all the way in, then pulled almost all the way out torturously. She spasmed around him and clutched his shoulders, her nails leaving half-moons on his skin. She lifted her lower body, trying to take him deeper, but he hovered just out of reach so she sank her teeth into his shoulder.

  He hissed and slammed into her.

  She screamed as she shattered, her muscles rippling as her head thrashed back and forth. He pummeled into her over and over.

  She loved it.

  Needed it.

  Never wanted it to stop.

  Sweat dripped from his face onto her forehead as he ground his pelvis against hers. His fingers tugged on her hair as he buried himself in her again and again. Faster and faster. Then he stiffened, a guttural sound wrenched from his throat. His jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut as he emptied himself into the thin barrier between them.

  She caressed his face. If only she could keep Mr. Dark inside her and shut out the world.

  He nipped at the tender flesh of her neck. Her pussy fluttered around him and a groan rumbled from his chest. She hugged him close, kissing his head. They lay in silence, with only the sounds of their breathing and the whir of the ceiling fan breaking the quiet. With his semi-hard cock still cocooned in her tightness, they drifted to sleep.

  Myka awoke at the crack of dawn in a strange bed, with a stranger's arm around her. She took a moment to smile at the memory of the things they did together as she inhaled his scent. Placing a kiss on his forehead, she extricated herself from his embrace and went to get dressed in the bathroom.

  She splashed water on her face and stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was a tangled mop on her head, scratches and bite marks decorated her neck and her lips were swollen. She looked like she'd been fucked good and proper.

  The ache in her well-used core proved it.

  Back in the room, she made sure she didn't leave anything behind, then opened the hotel room door. She turned and took one last look at the figure asleep on the bed, then walked out. The door closed behind her with a soft click.