Spears.”
“Liar.” He lifts his hand, running it through my hair and then cupping my cheek. He leans forward, I assume to kiss me, but he whispers in my ear instead: “Who are we?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.” My response is a whisper to match his.
“We are the hunter and the prey.” He kisses my cheek softly. “Which one are you, Samantha Barnes?”
I close my eyes, no longer fearing him, regardless of the fact I am certain he is every bit the man Rory said he was. “My name is Jane.”
“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you leave?”
“I told you earlier, I love you. I have always loved you. I don’t want us to be this way. I don’t believe you are anything but my sweet Derek.” I know it’s wrong, but I don’t care that he’s an assassin. He might have killed a man tonight—he’s all but admitting to it all, and I don’t care.
His lips find mine in the dark. There is something desperate in the kiss. There is no control and no method to his madness; it is just pure and crazed.
His fingers tear at my clothes, where his lips press to heal the reddened flesh. He kisses away every bit of roughness but never softens in his touch. My clothes are ripped away completely as my lips are kissed as though they may never be again. I don’t move with him but allow myself to be ravaged. I am unsure of his mood or movements. Everything is foreign and frightening in a sensual way.
He lifts me into the air, lowering me onto his erection. His jeans rub the bottoms of my legs as he enters me roughly. His hands lift me by the hips and ass, working me on his cock but at the same time moving with abandon on the reins normally holding him back. Warm grunts fill my ears as my head and back drag up and down the door. His fingers bite into my flesh, holding me too tightly and treating me too roughly. But I love every second of the assault.
Our lips crash as our faces melt into one another. My tongue slips into his mouth, only to be met with caresses and soft sucks, contradicting the thrusting and slamming of my body.
My naked breasts squish into his shirt in rhythm to the jerking of our bodies as my climax starts to build. I grip him, clutching and clawing as his cock brings me to a blissful release. He cries out, groaning into my hair as my orgasm milks his cock until he too releases inside me. Our movements slow but the disparity of it all doesn’t.
He doesn’t hesitate. He moves our still-trembling bodies, carrying me to the shower. He strips off his clothes, pulling me into the shower. He turns it on, as always, protecting me from the cold water.
He cups my face as if it were the most delicate thing in the world. His eyes are almost completely gray, no green at all, but his smile is the one I love the most. “I don’t want to lose you.”
I nod. “Can we just be who we are, right now? These people in this shower?”
His eyes glisten, and I know it’s not the shower. “I don’t know.” He kisses me softly, just lightly feathering his lips against mine. “I have never been more scared in all my life than I was today.”
I nod again. “Me too.”
He wraps around me, holding me tightly to his chest.
When we go to bed there are a thousand questions roaming my head, but choosing which one to start with feels impossible. Each one leads down a path I’m not certain I want to detour down. Not when he’s here and he’s mine.
I hate myself in some ways. I hate that I needed to know. I hate that I followed the bread crumbs to Samantha Barnes and the bullshit that was her life. I wish I’d left it alone. I wish for so many other options instead of the one that led me to the moment I am in. It is too filled with regret, so filled that I’m certain if I break the top off this can of worms I will drown in the sea of things I could have lived without knowing.
“Do you want me to sedate you?” His question is so random I don’t answer at first. I lie perfectly still, perplexed as to why he
“Liar.” He lifts his hand, running it through my hair and then cupping my cheek. He leans forward, I assume to kiss me, but he whispers in my ear instead: “Who are we?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.” My response is a whisper to match his.
“We are the hunter and the prey.” He kisses my cheek softly. “Which one are you, Samantha Barnes?”
I close my eyes, no longer fearing him, regardless of the fact I am certain he is every bit the man Rory said he was. “My name is Jane.”
“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you leave?”
“I told you earlier, I love you. I have always loved you. I don’t want us to be this way. I don’t believe you are anything but my sweet Derek.” I know it’s wrong, but I don’t care that he’s an assassin. He might have killed a man tonight—he’s all but admitting to it all, and I don’t care.
His lips find mine in the dark. There is something desperate in the kiss. There is no control and no method to his madness; it is just pure and crazed.
His fingers tear at my clothes, where his lips press to heal the reddened flesh. He kisses away every bit of roughness but never softens in his touch. My clothes are ripped away completely as my lips are kissed as though they may never be again. I don’t move with him but allow myself to be ravaged. I am unsure of his mood or movements. Everything is foreign and frightening in a sensual way.
He lifts me into the air, lowering me onto his erection. His jeans rub the bottoms of my legs as he enters me roughly. His hands lift me by the hips and ass, working me on his cock but at the same time moving with abandon on the reins normally holding him back. Warm grunts fill my ears as my head and back drag up and down the door. His fingers bite into my flesh, holding me too tightly and treating me too roughly. But I love every second of the assault.
Our lips crash as our faces melt into one another. My tongue slips into his mouth, only to be met with caresses and soft sucks, contradicting the thrusting and slamming of my body.
My naked breasts squish into his shirt in rhythm to the jerking of our bodies as my climax starts to build. I grip him, clutching and clawing as his cock brings me to a blissful release. He cries out, groaning into my hair as my orgasm milks his cock until he too releases inside me. Our movements slow but the disparity of it all doesn’t.
He doesn’t hesitate. He moves our still-trembling bodies, carrying me to the shower. He strips off his clothes, pulling me into the shower. He turns it on, as always, protecting me from the cold water.
He cups my face as if it were the most delicate thing in the world. His eyes are almost completely gray, no green at all, but his smile is the one I love the most. “I don’t want to lose you.”
I nod. “Can we just be who we are, right now? These people in this shower?”
His eyes glisten, and I know it’s not the shower. “I don’t know.” He kisses me softly, just lightly feathering his lips against mine. “I have never been more scared in all my life than I was today.”
I nod again. “Me too.”
He wraps around me, holding me tightly to his chest.
When we go to bed there are a thousand questions roaming my head, but choosing which one to start with feels impossible. Each one leads down a path I’m not certain I want to detour down. Not when he’s here and he’s mine.
I hate myself in some ways. I hate that I needed to know. I hate that I followed the bread crumbs to Samantha Barnes and the bullshit that was her life. I wish I’d left it alone. I wish for so many other options instead of the one that led me to the moment I am in. It is too filled with regret, so filled that I’m certain if I break the top off this can of worms I will drown in the sea of things I could have lived without knowing.
“Do you want me to sedate you?” His question is so random I don’t answer at first. I lie perfectly still, perplexed as to why he
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