CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Raina
C onnor leaps from the bed and growls, “Come here. I need to come down your throat.”
I should be insulted by the lewd request, but I’m not. Connor brings out the woman I really am and welcomes my depravity with his own.
“Say please.”
“Please get over here. Don’t make me ask you again.” He sounds on the verge of coming.
Fire runs through my veins watching him jerk off, his cock slick with my arousal, the tip dripping with precum.
Licking my lips, dying to taste his salty release, I belly crawl to the edge of the bed. My juices smear across the top cover and coat my inner thighs. God, we made such a mess.
“Open for me.” His wet cock brushes my mouth, nudging the velvety tip along the seam of my lips. “I said open for me, brat .”
I welcome him into my mouth, and my eyes roll in the back of my head, tasting my tangy cream on his dick. I’m partly ashamed, partly proud of how wet he made me, how he brought out my deepest flavor.
“Right there, brat. Take my length down your gorgeous throat.” His fingers wind into my hair as he seats himself balls deep against my chin.
I relax my throat and just surrender to take his thick, staggering length and not gag.
“You like me coming in your mouth, don’t you, brat?” His eyes sparkle. “Tasting my cum.”
I can come just like this while on my belly taking a killer’s cock down my throat. I can’t believe what he’s turned me into. I thought I was sexually liberated, but Connor has dragged me to a new level of his personal hell.
“Oh, good girl, take my cock. You look so beautiful choking on it.”
I should be appalled, but his praise tightens my core.
“ Fuuuuck . I’m gonna come.” His grunting and the way his cock spasms, stretching my mouth, heat my core to a volcanic degree.
Ropes of warm, salty cum hit the back of my throat. Taking his seed down my throat is shamefully hot.
And as he comes, his hips rock at a furious pace, forcing stinging tears to leak from my eyes.
He slides out of my mouth, but a few more drops of his pearly climax coat my lips. “Lick the last of my cum, Venom. Every last drop. You drained me.”
I’m drenched with sweat and every muscle in my body twinges. Spasms from this unexpected workout while I sucked him dry keep rolling through me. With every last drop I swallow, my body sighs in relief. I’ve never felt so sinfully satisfied.
“Christ, that’s good, brat.” Connor pushes his length against my mouth. “Suck me clean like a good girl.”
I lick the sides, loving the combined flavor we left on his skin.
While cleaning him, I stare up at him. “That bullshit praise won’t work on me,” I lie like a cheap rug.
Connor lets go of my hair and steps back. His length hangs thickly between his muscular thighs. His hands wrap around my upper arms as he pulls me to my feet. Not that we’re at eye level, he’s at least six inches taller than I am.
He stands there naked, breathing heavily, looking very much like the monster who tortures people in that tunnel below us.
He takes my face in his hands, his thumbs wiping the last of his release from my chin. “You are something else, Raina Riatt,” he groans, a mixture of wonder and concern in his voice.
“Too bad I still have to kill you.”
“Stay the night with me,” his invitation breaks from the back of his throat. The way a dying man asks for water.
“Can’t. There’s a group of outraged people that I have to convince you overpowered me before I could kill you.” Unless I say he never showed up.
“Let me talk to them.” Connor slides into a pair of gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips. “I seriously don’t know why anyone wants me dead other than Irish brats loyal to the old Keller regime.”
I open my mouth to retort something sarcastic, but let his confusion settle into my skin. How could a man who killed a mafia leader not know they’d send someone to take him out?
I clear my throat to cover up my second-guessing. “And what makes you think I’m not one of those old regime babes?”
“No respectable Irishman would send a lass as fine as you.”
“The man I work for wants you dead.” I start picking up my clothes. “For all I know, when I go back and say I failed, he might kill me.”
“Then fucking tell me who it is?” His voice booms, something cold scraping through me.
Heart pounding, I say, “It’s my father. So yeah, he probably won’t kill me.”
Which is true because he’s dead.
“Who is your father?”
“Mr. Riatt,” I tease. I can’t set Connor off on a murdering spree, guessing who sent me.
“That mouth is going to get you punished again.”
“Can I have my weapons, so I stand a fucking chance if I do get in trouble?”
Connor shakes his head. “My assassin has them. You can pick them up in his apartment tomorrow.”
My throat goes dry. “You think I’m going to show up at your assassin’s apartment? He’ll kill me.”
Connor leaves the bedroom. Unsure what’s happening, I dress quickly. But Connor stomps back with a gun pointed right at my head.
I stagger back, dropping the T-shirt I was about to throw over my head. “Wait.”
“If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead. You’re more valuable to me alive.”
“Then give me my weapons!” I throw the T-shirt on in a fury.
“I don’t think we’re on the same page, Venom.” He watches me, smiling.
As soon as I figured out I had to kill Connor, the man who gave me the greatest night of my life, I wasn’t sure I could kill him. There’s something more going on here, and I worry this missing piece will die with him if he stops breathing.
“Where does your assassin live?” I ask, slipping on my boots.
With the gun tucked into the back of his sweats, he takes a pen from a decorative plate on his dresser. He writes something on a piece of paper.
Twice now, I had a chance to run for it, but I’m stuck here. Mesmerized. Like it’s a car accident and I can’t look away. Or a bad movie, but I need to find out what happens.
He saunters up to me, the paper between two fingers. “Open your mouth?”
“What?”
“Don’t make me ask you twice.” His voice and this ruthless side of him trigger something primal and wicked in me.
I open my mouth, and he shoves the paper inside. Before I can spit it out, Connor crashes his lips down on mine. He kisses me with savage possession.
My hands grip his waist, and my brain twitches, feeling the gun. I grab it, pushing him back. Spitting the paper out of my mouth, I point it at him.
Before I can think, I aim for his leg and pull the trigger.
Click.
Horrified, I stutter, “It’s not loaded?”
“Do you think I’d let you get near a loaded gun?” He bends down and picks up the address. “I’ll take this.” He slips the gun from me and tucks the paper with his assassin’s address into the front pocket of my pants.
The last few seconds hit me, and my entire body trembles. “Why are you laughing? I just tried to kill you.”
“And you’re a woman of your word. I’ll be more careful next time.” He takes my hand and brings me into the living room.
“Next time.” I fight to slow my heart rate.
“You’ll be trying again, won’t you?”
“Damn right, I will be.”
“Good. When?” He leans against his kitchen island, which opens to the living room.
I glance out the window to look at the courtyard. My blood pressure lowers when I see that his guards are gone. Or maybe they’re hiding.
“When, Venom?” Connor’s voice turns me around. “When are you coming back to kill me?”
“Why would I tell you that?” I start backing up toward the front door.
“I want to make sure I’m home.” He grins. “And so we understand each other, every time I get your weapons from you, we take another turn in the sheets.”