11. Dean
Eleven
Dean
T here is no better sensation in the whole goddamn world than feeling Annie Lowell tremble and writhe against my tongue. She’s salty and sweet, needy and swollen, and as I go to town on her pussy, she moans and tugs on my hair with shameless abandon.
Good.
Those sweet little cries are music to my ears. The sting as she pulls my hair, too lost in the moment to realize how hard she’s tugging—I relish that hot prickle on my scalp. It anchors me. And the warm, slick clasp of her channel around my fingers? Forget about it.
Annie is my woman. She’s the one I’ve pined after since the first stirrings of puberty; the one I’ve dreamed of every night, even years after leaving our old suburb. She’s mine , and I can’t get enough. I never will.
“Dean!”
Her back bows, and she draws up off the bed as I suck on her clit, fingers pumping. Annie’s sweet, squishy thighs clamp down on either side of my head, muffling all sounds except the rush of my own overheated blood.
“Oh!”
She’s shaking like a leaf in a storm, still arching off the bed, eyes squeezed shut as she hovers on the precipice. My fingers twist inside her to stroke at her G-spot, and I lap at her clit like a demon as Annie jackknifes up and comes with her startled gaze fixed on mine.
Yes.
Christ.
Seeing her wide, leaf-green eyes go glassy with pleasure…
Feeling her legs shake around my ears…
Tasting the salty gush against my tongue…
“Fucking perfect,” I growl, as soon as Annie flops back against the mattress, her thighs sliding off my shoulders. My heart drums hard enough to hurt as I crawl back up the length of her sweat-damp, blushing body. “You’re so fucking perfect, Annie, I almost can’t stand it.”
She whimpers, looping both arms around my neck.
“You still want to do this?”
She’s pliable in my hands, letting me hitch one soft thigh around my waist and notch my cock at her entrance—but we’re not going any further unless she’s all in.
“Annie?”
She draws in a shaky breath and nods, clutching me tighter and lifting her hips. “Do it. Do it, Dean. I really, really want this.”
So do I. Christ, so do I, and the pleasure’s already coiling tight in my gut, threatening me with an early finish before I’ve even gotten fully inside my girl. Eyes squeezed shut, I pause and rub up and down her slit, getting good and slicked up. Buying myself a few seconds’ grace.
I’ve just—I’ve wanted this for so damn long. Wanted her every minute of every day. And if I blow it now, if I disappoint Annie on her first time after she waited for me—
“Hey.” A small hand cups my cheek, and my eyes flick open. Annie’s watching me, her expression so soft and full of understanding. “It’s gonna be okay. You’ve got me, alright? Not just tonight. Forever.”
A shiver runs down my spine, and my chest expands and fills with golden warmth. Like sunshine.
“Yeah?” I murmur, lining us up again and kissing the tip of Annie’s nose. “Is that so?”
She hitches her other thigh around my waist too, squeezing gently. “Definitely.”
And—
It’s so easy to sink inside her. So right . Annie is slick and warm and pliant, her body made soft by her first orgasm, and pressing inside my girl is like sliding into a hot bath. Yeah, she’s still tight, and her breath catches as I get deeper and deeper—but I pause each time Annie stiffens, letting her get used to my girth.
“So good.” My words are mumbled, my kisses dotted all over her cheeks and throat, but they seem to do the trick. Annie laughs and relaxes beneath me, melting into my hold. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Come on. Let me in. Let me deeper.”
“ Dean .”
“I’ve got you. I’m here.”
We rock together slowly at first, working our bodies together, grinding our way closer and closer. Then, once I’m fully seated, once I can feel every twitch and flutter of her inner muscles around my shaft, we pause for a moment, breathing together.
“It’s so….”
“I know.”
“You feel…”
“Yeah.”
This feels so good it almost hurts. So good that fear thrills through my nerves—the instinctive fear that if you have something great, you could lose it too. Life can be cruel.
But I push those thoughts to the back of my mind. Sure, there are no guarantees in this world—but I’m gonna spend every day for the rest of my life making Annie Lowell happy. I swear it.
She’s the one who gets us moving again, her hips lifting and rocking against mine. Exploring how I feel inside her. Then I grunt and start moving too, withdrawing an inch or two only to push back inside. Relishing that warm, tight grip over and over.
We start gently. Letting Annie explore and get used to these new sensations, used to the thick press of my cock inside her body. I kiss her too, and break away to mouth and lick at her neck.
Then we build speed. Our movements get choppier, more urgent.
Annie’s cries get louder, and her fingernails dig into my back.
“Mine,” I grit out as the bed frame starts to thud rhythmically against the wall. “You’re mine, Annie.”
She gasps, her channel fluttering around my cock. One of my hands has palmed her ass cheek, squeezing her there and tilting her hips up for my thrusts.
When I hit the exact right angle, Annie howls and claws hard at my back. With any luck, there’ll be pink lines on the skin when I check the mirror in the morning.
For now, though, I grit my teeth and savor the burn in my muscles as I fuck my girl over and over, working her into a sweaty, trembling, red-faced mess.
“Please,” she babbles after a while, clawing at my chest and shoulders like she’s trying to climb my body. With every hard thrust, Annie’s tits jiggle and her eyes practically roll back. “Please, oh please. Make me come. Make me come. It’s so—feels so good. I can’t stand it anymore.”
Christ, I know what she means. The pleasure of thrusting inside Annie’s body, the sweet sensation of feeling her grip my cock, those inner muscles trying to suck me deeper—it’s almost too much to bear.
A drop of my sweat lands on Annie’s forehead. I bend down and lick it off, and this cramped little bedroom is more hot and humid than a tropical rainforest right now. We’ve changed the climate with our need for each other.
“Dean,” Annie begs, her voice cracking.
I bend down and kiss her roughly, claiming her mouth with every ounce of desperation I feel for this woman—and let go of her ass to snake a hand between us and rub at her clit.
“Mmph. Mmph. ” Annie’s sounds are muffled against my mouth, but she doesn’t need to tell me that she’s close. I can feel it firsthand in the way her pussy clamps down on my shaft, muscles fluttering; in the way she goes rigid in my arms, clinging tight.
I keep thrusting. Keep rubbing at the slippery bundle of nerves between her thighs; keep stroking our tongues together. Even as my pulse thuds in my ears and my balls pull up close to my body, every nerve in my body sparking with electricity. I keep going, chasing her there. Working my girl higher.
When Annie breaks, falling apart in my arms—it’s like my brain breaks too. White static fills my skull, and my ears ring like there’s just been an explosion as pleasure storms through every cell in my body. It’s elemental. Unreal.
And when the room fades back in, I’m wedged as deep in Annie Lowell as I can go, groaning like a beast as I pump her full of hot come.
“Shit.” My words are slurred, like I’ve been whacked over the head. Feels that way, too. “Sorry. I should’ve pulled out.”
Even as I say it, I’m still thrusting slowly, still filling her up with long spurts. Pushing my seed as deep as it can go. Stupid caveman brain.
But Annie laughs, breathless, and wriggles beneath me. She kisses my neck.
“Don’t you dare, Dean Kinnear. I like how this feels. It’s so… primal.”
That it is. Primal’s a good word for it. A good word to describe how I feel about Annie in general: like I’d die for her. Like I’d kill for her. Like she’s the central point in my universe, the point that everything else orbits around.
With one final spurt, I collapse to one side with a groan and pull Annie close, still wedged inside her. My shaft starts to soften, but then it twitches at the thought of taking her again. Of doing that all over, but in another position. Of fucking my girl until the light of dawn peeks around the curtains, or until I’m too damn chafed to move. Whichever comes first.
“Better hydrate,” I tell Annie, nodding to the glass of water on her nightstand. “We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”
* * *
Three years later
It’s dark when I pull up outside the townhouse we bought last year. Only a few blocks away from Annie’s old apartment, we’re still in the artsy, friendly neighborhood on the outskirts of the city—but now with more space and privacy. Oh, and with a couple spare bedrooms for whatever munchkins come along, or for Wyatt to crash in whenever he stays late after dinner.
Feels good to come home. Even though I’ve only been gone for one shift, it’s always good to come home.
The van engine dies, and the night is cool and quiet when I step out onto the sidewalk. Stars glitter overhead, and the air smells like blossom from a nearby tree. There’s a beep when I lock the van, stowing away all my work equipment until tomorrow.
Turns out working as a hit man is great prior experience for setting up as a security consultant. I know firsthand how someone might try to break into certain properties. Can assess with a single glance the weaknesses in a security set up. And hey, my clients know better than to ask how I came by all this specialized knowledge—they just want my expertise.
Works for me.
My boots thud against the stone steps as I climb up to the townhouse front door and key in our own security code, then scan my fingerprint. Can never be too careful, you know?
The door swings open under my palm, and I step into the lobby, still musing privately about the turn my life has taken. For the record: I still have rules. Just like I refused to ever kill a good person, I refuse to help protect complete assholes. They’re on their own.
Luckily there are still plenty of decent people out there who deserve good security, and business has been going well lately. Booming, even.
“Annie?” I call.
I’m back late, but not that late. As I glance around the dim hallway, hanging my jacket on the hook, the back of my neck prickles.
The house is dark, with only a single table lamp casting a golden pool in the living room, the light spilling out into the hall. I peer through the doorway, but there’s no one in there. The sofas are empty, the TV off.
Where the hell has my wife got to?
Jaw clenched, I reach behind my back for the knife I still keep strapped beneath my t-shirt. My fingers barely brush the hilt before something moves behind me and darkness descends. The air turns close, hot, musty, and I snort into the bag over my head.
“You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.”
Annie grabs both my wrists, jerking them behind my back and trying them together with a strip of fabric. I wait patiently, holding still, because Kidnap is one of Annie’s favorite games—and hey, I’m not gonna fight a pregnant lady. She may not be far along yet, but I’m still being so fucking careful with her.
“You’re home late,” Annie says, tying my wrists together extra tight. Not so harshly as to cut the blood flow, but still. Tighter than usual. “I wanted you, and you came home late. This is your punishment.”
“You think I’d rather sit in traffic than be with you?” I sound amused, leaning down a little to make this abduction easier for her. “You think that’s a deal any sane man would willingly take?”
Annie tuts, smacking me on the ass. “All I know is you left me here on my own for an extra hour, bored and horny. I had to make myself come, like a peasant. You’re gonna pay for that.”
I’m grinning so hard in the bag. My wife is a gorgeous little nut job, and I love her so fucking much.
“What are you gonna do with me?”
Annie hums. “We’ll see. I can be very, very creative, mister.”
I know. Christ, I know, and my gut’s already tightening with anticipation as Annie frogmarches me into the living room. I’m already hard as stone behind my zipper.
This woman has kidnapped me dozens of times over the years, and I’ve always gone willingly. Never put up a fight. Why would I?
It always works out well for me.
* * *
Thanks for reading Accidentally Kidnapping the Hit Man! I hope you loved it :)
Be sure to check out the other books in the Accidentally Kidnapping series!
For another crazy night out story, check out Woke Up Wed . My boss can barely stand five minutes with me. But I wake up wearing his ring.
And for a bonus instalove story, grab your copy of Something Sweet . I spend every Valentine’s Day baking cookies for my friends and neighbors. But the bad boy who just moved to town? He’s hungry for something else…
Happy reading!
xxx