Hitman's Bride (Bad Boy Empire)
Page 14
There are still tear tracks on her face, and I don’t like it. I take her hands and hold them over her head on the glass. Her hair is pushed up slightly behind her head, and her lips are parted as though she’s out of air. Energy sparks through her mouth the moment I touch my lips to hers. Desire curls into my mouth as she slips her tongue inside, playing with mine. I hold her wrists up high with one hand, wrapping my other around her neck. Her body molds into mine as I ride my knee between her legs, feeling the heat of her pussy throbbing against my slacks. I twist my hand, burying my fingers in her dirty-blonde hair. It’s saturated with that floral scent she always wears, and somehow it acts as a fucking spur on my dick. It’s as though she reached down and grabbed the root of my cock. It throbs with need when I let go of her wrists, and her soft skin rubs against my cheek as she throws her arms around my neck.
Goddamn, that sexy fucking mouth. I’m weakened with every kiss. I feel my rage dampening, when I want it to flame. She does that to me.
I wrap my arms underneath her ass and lift her into the air. She pulls back as I walk to the bedroom, her breath teasing my wet lips.
“I think I’m going to take turns fucking your sweet mouth and pussy. And we’ll see which one gets my cum.”
A dimple winks into existence as her lips tug. When I walk into the bedroom, she’s already sliding down my body. There’s no need for words. My hand glides over her head, and she follows the pressure, sinking down to her knees.
My muscles tense when her fingers touch the fabric of my slacks, because I can feel her through them. I brush her hair from her face as she leans forward and kisses my dick. Her lips are like ecstasy, and my cock tents my pants the moment her heat touches me. Then I feel her smile. I feel it because her lips are still brushing me, and then I fist my hand in her hair to let her know that I want her to hurry the fuck up. She deftly unbuttons my pants, sliding my belt out of the loops before the sound of the zipper hits the still air. Then her hands wrap around my waist and I watch her look up at me with slightly narrowed eyes as her palms slide over my ass, slowly pushing my boxers down. I feel the air sting my skin, quickly followed by the warmth of her hands as she undresses me. She keeps eye-fucking me even as my cock bounces out of my boxers, already streaming with pre-cum. Her hand clasps around the base, and she still locks her gaze with mine as her tongue slips from her mouth and flicks across my head. My cock jumps, following the motion of her tongue as a jolt of pleasure stabs me.
“Fawn, you fucking tease.”
I can’t take it anymore. My fingers dig into the back of her neck, and I watch her struggle to take my cock inside her mouth. She opens wide, and the slick warmth washes over me as through my whole body is submerged in a bath. Fawn’s mouth is nice and moist. I watch as her tongue runs along the underside of my cock, as it bunches up when I hit the back of her throat. I pull out, and she swirls her tongue around my head. Fuck, it’s sensitive. Then she takes it back inside and I’m bathed in that ecstatic heat again. She works my cock, twisting her hand around me as she takes me as deep as I want. It’s driving me fucking insane, and then I grab her head with both hands, driving my hips against her mouth. I shove my cock down that little throat until my balls kiss her lips, and then I pull out, letting her gasp for air.
If I keep going, I’ll blow my load, and I’m not nearly done with her yet.
I yank on her hair and she follows my grip on shaky knees.
“I need that pussy now. Take off your clothes.”
Her face flushed, she inserts her thumbs under the waistband of her sweatpants and slides. I watch the line of exposed skin grow as the gray fabric slips down, and then my eyes stop when it moves past her pussy. My hands are on her before she can take off the rest of her clothes. Her pupils widen as I palm her warm cunt, feeling her pulse trembling against my fingers. She’s so goddamn wet for me. Her juices run down my fingers. They’re all over her thighs.
“Turn around and spread your legs.” I watch as my wife spins around on the spot. “Wider.”
I smooth my hand on her back before shoving her forward, over the bed. She catches herself on the mattress as I take her hips and guide my cock into that slick cunt that’s aching for me. Fawn cries against the comforter as I sink inside her, eyes closed in rapture or in pain. She feels amazing. Her slick heat grips me like a glove that doesn’t want to come off, tugging on my cock. I nail Fawn’s tight pussy as she moans into the bed, trying to stifle her noise. Fuck that. I love hearing her voice scream my name, and the sound of my balls smacking her wet pussy. I bend over her back and slide my hand under her stomach, dragging her to impale her on my cock over and over again. Her whole body reverberates with the shock. Bam. Bam. Bam. The whole bed inches toward the wall. I feel a slow pressure building up in my balls, telling me to fuck her faster, but I reel myself in.
“Get on the bed and lie down.”
My rock-hard dick slides out of her as she climbs over the mattress. I grab her shoulders and pull her down so that her head is hanging over the bed, facing my rigid length. Fawn grabs me, giving me a few swift tugs as she takes me into her mouth. Holy fuck. It feels so goddamn perfect. Every aspect of her seems made to turn me on. I lean over the bed, burying my cock balls deep in her throat as I play with her tits, twisting the nipples with my thumb and forefinger. I want to watch myself fucking her sweet mouth, but I can’t help but want to be all over her at once. Fawn jacks me off as she sucks my cock, and electricity keeps shooting into me, feeding that restless ball of energy waiting to explode. I screw my eyes shut and then decide I want her pussy after all, so I pull out of her swollen lips.
“Get on your hands and knees.”
She obeys, her pussy a nice deep pink, just waiting to be taken again. I nearly leap onto the mattress and edge up behind her, taking a fist of her long hair.
“Fuck me. Show me how much you want it.”
She moans as she swings her hips backward, and I sigh as she takes me in. Her ass grinds against my hips, and then she lurches forward.
I slap my hand against her tiny ass, reveling in the sound. “Faster.”
Little Fawn rocks her hips back and forth, her tits swaying underneath. The pressure’s getting impossible to ignore. I know that I’m going to coat her womb with my cum, and I yank on her hair again.
“Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
She pounds my hips, and before I can stop myself I take her hip with my free hand and grind my body to meet hers. She cries out again as another thrust nearly knocks her off her elbows, and then I grab her with both hands. I come so fucking hard that I think I black out for a few seconds. The wave crashes over me and we tumble on the sheets together.
Damn, that feels good.
Ecstasy floods my brain. My cock is still swollen with blood, and shocks of pleasure run through me as I gaze at her naked body, pressed against mine. I wrap my arm around her back and finger her spine, running it all the way down to her ass. Another shock of pleasure hits my dick. Fawn curls up next to me, sliding her arm across my chest. It’s peaceful. I feel myself drifting and then catch myself with a start.
You can’t fucking sleep.
She distracted me from what I set out to do, and it worked.
“Damn it.”
I sit upright with her still clinging to my body. “What?”
Her eyes are heavy with sleepiness. I brush a finger along her eyebrows. “Stay here and get some rest. I’ve got to go.”
All trace of sleep vanishes from her face as she grasps my arm. “No, you can’t.”
“What makes you think you can stop me?”
She raises her face inches from mine. “Maybe the fact that you don’t live for yourself anymore. I’m your wife.”
“I am thinking about you. Why do you think I’m doing this?”
I slide away from her, my legs hitting the wooden floor. Fawn rips back the covers and stands in front of me, and her big blue eyes are glazed with tears.
Fuck me.
“Michael, pl
ease.”
I can barely take the way she chokes out my name. Her hands fly to her mouth, covering her trembling lips. I wrap my arms around her waist as I pull her over my lap. She’s still trying to hide her face from me and it’s like the air’s been vacuumed from my chest. I can’t take seeing her hurt like this.
“Babe, what’s wrong?”
“You’re going to get yourself killed. He’s going to put a bullet in your chest, and I won’t ever see you again.”
Her pain ricochets through me as she turns her tearstained cheek away from my fingers.
“That’s not going to happen.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I’m not an idiot, Fawn. I know I was pissed off back there, but I’m not going to go in there guns blazing.”
Fawn says nothing. She can’t. Her face screws up and her body shakes with sobs that I can’t stop, no matter how hard I hug her or how many times I kiss her hair.
“Fawn, it’ll be all right. Honest to God, I’m not planning on dying anytime soon.”
She touches my neck, tracing her fingers over my features as if determined to memorize my face. Then she presses her lips to mine, and her kiss is wet with her tears.
* * *
Another night where my numb fingers wrap around steel, waiting for a silhouette to pass the window. The journalist lives in Noe Valley, a quiet part of town that’s completely removed from the chaos downtown. There are no fancy high-rises here. Three stories, max. So I had to break into someone’s backyard and climb the small staircase to the roof. I tried to pick a place that looked empty. If they were home they could hear me walk on the tiles, no matter how quiet I tried to be.
For jobs like this, I never snipe through windows. I’m too exposed. Usually I’d have to break in and take care of them as silently as possible, one by one.
Somehow I can’t stomach looking into their faces as I strangle them to death,
so I wait on a roof, partially hidden in the shadows as I clutch the rifle to my chest and ignore the numbing cold.
My insides still feel oddly empty, as though I haven’t eaten for days. I’m gutted every time her tortured face swims through my mind. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to save her from being hurt ever again. Even if it means killing people who don’t deserve to die.
A shadow flickers across my vision. Damn. I wasn’t paying attention. I look down the sights and see custard-colored walls. There’s a woman bent over something. It’s the journalist. She has her dark hair swept up in a messy bun and it falls around her face as she reaches inside something. I aim the sights, inhaling as the cross pulses over her forehead. She straightens suddenly, cradling a bundle in her arms. A baby.
Fuck.
I look away, pinching the bridge of my nose hard against the throbbing headache. Everything inside me doesn’t want to do this. The other contracts, oddly enough, never felt like murder. The moment you sign up for a gang, you sign up for everything in it. It’s the way it goes.
For the first time in my career, I feel low. This is wrong. I shouldn’t be doing this. How could she ever respect me if I did this? How could I live with myself?
If you don’t do it, she’ll die. You’ll die.
The journalist turns around with the baby still in her arms. She walks toward to door.
Now or never.
My heart pounds with indecision. The trigger feels like a bomb. I envision the bullet bursting through her back, killing the baby as well—
No.
Something visceral tears through my gut.
I can’t do it. Even for her. I can’t become like him.
I aim the rifle toward the ceiling, far away from the woman, and I squeeze off three shots. The window shatters and fist-sized chunks blow out of the plaster. She ducks instinctively, screaming for her husband.
Time to get the fuck out of here.
What the hell did you just do?
My brain scrambles as I dismantle the rifle, stuffing the pieces into my duffel bag. Images flash through my head—Pepper’s body, his hands locked around her throat, my wife’s face, and Viper—he’ll fucking kill her the moment he realizes I botched this job.
God, what have I done?
* * *
Careful. One foot in front of the other. Take your time. There’s no rush, especially when you’re free climbing a high-rise.
Don’t look down.
I look down and immediately the city speckled with lights swings in vertigo.
Jesus Christ.
I hang on the outside of the syndicate building, my fingers whitened with the pressure. I managed to pop off the bathroom window in my suite, and then I slipped down to the ledge. Good thing Fawn wasn’t there, or she’d be screaming at me the whole way. But I know where Viper’s suite is, and this is the only way to bypass all that fucking security. If I survive the journey there.
He’s on the second floor, so that means I’ll have to kneel in a couple inches of space and drop down in front of his window. The rush of adrenaline goes straight to my head, and I have to fight to keep myself from trembling. I wait until the wind dies down, and then I lower myself, one foot still planted in front of the other. My palm slides down the glass. One wrong move.
Here’s the hard part.
I let one leg dangle over the edge, ignoring the electrical jolts to my heart as I glimpse the very, very long drop to the streets. I’m in an awkward position. Finally I slide my other leg out and I’m supporting myself by my arms. They tremble as my feet dangle in midair, hundreds of feet away from the ground. My feet hit the ledge, and they almost slip off. Two inches between safety and death. I hold on and close my eyes, waiting for my heart to stop beating long enough for me to keep going.
I slide out of view of the windows, which are black. Fuck, he might not even be there. Meaning I risked my life for something stupid and dangerous. I find the same bathroom window in his place and punch it open. Steam blows out of the bathroom, and I grab the edges of the window, cursing the dampness. Then I haul myself inside the wet shower, my boots stepping in a puddle of water. It was recently used. As quietly as possible, I shut the bathroom window and step out of the shower, uncoiling a wire from my jacket. My veins course with energy. I’m ready to fucking pounce the moment I see him, but I can’t hear a sound in the suite. I can always tell within a few seconds if someone’s in a room.
He’s not here. I missed him probably by a few minutes.
Goddamn it. Shit. FUCK!
I cautiously make my way from room to room, just to be certain. The suite has a metallic smell that only belongs to Viper, but he’s definitely gone.
Now what? I can’t go out into the hallway, where his guards will see me.
I march toward the door, and then I notice that Viper has several security screens that loop over and over again. If I had time, I could program this thing to play the same loop. Fuck, can’t do it. I reach into my jacket for a Phillips-head screwdriver and unscrew the console. I just need to make it look like it malfunctioned—so I can get out of here. The screens fizzle out and die as I cause a spark in the wires, and then I shut, ripping open the door to the second floor in the hallway.
There’s no one there.
I hear the click of Viper’s lock as the door shuts behind me, and I feel a sense of finality, game over, I fucked up.
Fawn. I’ve got to get her out of here.
I head toward the staircase at a brisk pace, blood pounding in my ears. She must be in the infirmary. I jog down the steps, narrowly avoiding a young man.
“Hey!”
“Sorry—”
“Silas, it’s me.”
It’s Paul again. He stands with his foot half-raised, staring at me like I’m some kind of ghost. “Viper’s already heard about the journalist. I was looking for you to tell you.”
“I fucked it up and almost got made.”
Understanding blazes in Paul’s eyes. “He’s down at the infirmary. With your wife.”
What?
The doors to the infirmary fly open as I march inside, and I look wildly around the sea of blue and pink scrubs for my wife’s face. A doctor runs across my path and I fight the urge to shove him aside. Where the fuck is Fawn?
Then I see Viper, sitting calmly on a chair with his sleeves rolled up his massive bicep. Fawn stands over him, a needle and thread pinched in her fingers as she sutures a gash on his forearm.
A wave of relief crashes over me as I walk toward them, aware of the fact that he’s surrounded by four of his men. Fawn smiles sweetly at him and laughs in response to something he says. What the hell is she doing? I’m close enough to hear what they’re saying.
“You’re really amazing with that needle.”
The sound of Viper’s smooth voice washes over me like acid. The fucking bastard is hitting on my wife, but what’s even stranger is Fawn’s response.
“That’s very sweet of you to say.”
Something’s wrong. Her body turns toward the wall as she sets the needle aside on a tray and a determined look transforms her face. She reaches for something on the tray that makes my heart seize. A small syringe that I recognize because every hitman worth his salt has vials of that shit.
It’s filled with lethal potassium.
She’s going to stab him with it and stop his heart. Then his guards will fucking kill her.
“FAWN!”
I scream her name so that every head turns toward me. Viper whips his head around, smirking as I burst into the room. She grasps the syringe, and I seize her shoulders, slamming her back against the wall hard enough so that she drops it.
“I thought I told you to stay out of this fucking place.”
She knows the instant my hands dig into her flesh. My skin burns as she stares back, a defiant gleam in her eyes. How could she do this?