“I read it in a book.”
“On your knees now,” he grits out, still sounding upset. I drop down before him without question. “Lock your fingers together behind your back.” Again, I do as he tells me. My body hums with so much need. With each order he gives, the more turned on I get. “Open,” he says as he presses the head of his cock past my lips.
He’s right. It is a fight to get him into my mouth. He stretches my lips wide. Once he’s got half of his cock in, he lets go to brace himself with both hands against the shower wall.
“Fuck you’re beautiful with your mouth wrapped around my cock.” He pulls out and thrusts back inside. I moan around him. This is so different from anything else we’re ever done. He’s using me. And I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life. “You like sucking cock, sugar?” His dirty words have me squeezing my thighs together.
I moan around his cock. A grunt leaves him. He closes his eyes again for a long moment. I use my tongue this time, running it along him. His eyes fly back open, something inside him finally snapping. He starts to really move this time, thrusting in and out of my mouth faster now. I gag when he hits the back of my throat. But he doesn't stop. If anything, he goes even faster and deeper.
“Going to come.” To my surprise, he pulls out of my mouth. He wraps his hand around his cock and begins to pump himself. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out.”
I do as he says. I hadn’t realized I’d even closed it. “Stick it all the way out.”
The head of his cock brushes my tongue as he starts to come. He pumps his cock, spraying his cum into my mouth. I keep my lips parted as I watch him. I press my thighs together, needing relief so badly. His salty sweetness fills my mouth. I take every drop he gives me.
“Swallow.” I close my mouth, swallowing him down. He brushes the head of his cock against my lips. “Open. I want to see that it’s all gone.”
I open wide for him, sticking my tongue out.
“Fuck me.” He reaches for me, lifting me off my feet. I wrap around him. His cock rubs against my sex. I whimper. “That turned you on? Me using you?” He kisses me, not letting me answer him. For some reason, I think he’s scared to hear my response.
4
Logan
The meeting with Clevenger, head of the Brotherhood, is at eight in the morning. I hate to leave Quinn sleeping, but I wore her out last night. She lost count of her orgasms, but I didn’t. Seven wasn’t nearly enough, not when she’d sucked my cock like a filthy little angel in the shower. But she’d passed out after the seventh, so I let her rest.
“Morning.” Ben greets me as I stride into the ground floor of one of the largest buildings in town. “This is bullshit, by the way.”
“I know.” I don’t want to meet with Clevenger now or ever. But I’m already walking a knife’s edge after hanging up on Sister Jezebel last night. Sometimes I wonder if Clevenger is a figurehead and she’s the real brains behind the operation.
We stride to the elevator bank, fully aware of the immense amount of firepower all around us. This entire building is controlled by the Brotherhood. The blood-thirstiest assassins on the planet call this place home.
We rise quickly, the elevator moving at a breakneck pace to the very top.
I check my phone and shoot Quinn a short text. “Love you, sugar. Should be home for lunch.” She loves it when I come home during the day. So do I. I’ve never been much of a homebody, but ever since I found Quinn, that’s all changed. I try to be at our penthouse every chance I get. Even so, business keeps pulling me away.
“You realize he might just put a bullet into us and call it a day, right?” Ben straightens his suit coat.
“He won’t.” I’ve dealt with Clevenger enough to know how he operates. “This is a sales pitch. He wants me on his team.”
“The Brotherhood isn’t short on assassins.”
“No, it’s not. But he wants the best.”
Ben opens his mouth to argue then snaps it shut. He’s my protege, a mob hitman I’ve been training for the past few years. Now he kills with clear intention and finesse, not the sloppy murders he used to pull for the DaVincis.
“It’s okay.” I smirk at him. “You can admit I’m the best.”
The elevator opens as Ben grumbles underneath his breath.
“Right this way.” Sister Jezebel walks ahead of us, her hair swept up in a tight ponytail. She doesn’t have any weapons readily visible on her person, but I have zero doubt she’s armed to the teeth. Not to mention, she could take anyone down with straight hand-to-hand. Some people are born killers; some are made. She’s definitely of the former variety. So am I.