Chapter 5
When I try to get up, I suddenly find myself in his embrace. His arms snake around me from behind, and his fingers grab my throat, enclosing it in his hand.
“We’re not done yet,” he murmurs, pulling me closer to his chest.
Abruptly, he turns me around and lifts me up onto the altar, getting rid of my clothes and my shoes and then spreading my legs wide with his broad shoulders.
He pulls his mask up to his nose, and a moment later, his hot breath is tingling on the insides of my thighs as his tongue starts its slow torture.
My moan sounds like a cry now, and my fingers dig into his hair, pressing him to me but also holding him back.
“I can’t,” I gasp, totally spent and boneless. “I can’t come again.”
It’s a great night if I get one orgasm from a man, but more than that? Never happens. It’s just not in my DNA to have multiple orgasms. I’m not that lucky.
Yet I don’t push him away, even if I should. A big part of me wants this. All of it. I’m going to enjoy him for as long as it lasts—especially if this is my last night on Earth.
Reaper raises his head, and our gazes collide. There’s an unspoken challenge in his eyes.
“I don’t care.” He bites into my thigh, sending another burning-hot shiver straight to my core. “You can, and you will. Give me one more.”
Then his mouth is on me again, licking through my wet slit. He sucks on my clit and pushes his tongue into my pussy until I come with a surprised cry.
My climax sends a shockwave through my body, and I swear I pass out from the sheer intensity of it, because the next thing I know, I’m on my knees again, fully naked, with an armed and dangerous Mafia enforcer right in front of me. He’s fully clothed, mask back on, cock in his hand.
This time he doesn’t need to speak up. I open my mouth for him, wide and willingly. Gagging, eyes watering, I let him use my mouth as he pleases. Thrust after thrust, until he groans, pulls me toward him, and spills deep into my throat.
And I swallow every single drop.
It’s dirty. It’s messy. It’s sinful and dangerous, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.
He doesn’t ask for the files again. Not while he licked my pussy, not while I sucked his cock, and not now, while we lie on his spread-out jacket on the cold floor.
Neither of us utters a word, because anything we say could destroy the unspoken truce between us. Every word could be used as weapon, like a knife bursting the bubble we’ve unconsciously created.
So we keep our mouths shut, enjoying the unexpected peace and silence for as long as it lasts.
If I was tired before he showed up, I can’t keep my eyes open now.
I fall asleep tucked into his arms, so exhausted I don’t give a damn how deadly the man is.
The sweat on my skin has long dried, and my heart’s beating in a normal rhythm when I feel myself being rolled onto my side. Dreams and reality melt into each other until I don’t know what’s real and what’s not.
A warm body presses into me from behind, then a rock-hard dick rubs up against my ass, and I moan as rough fingertips find my overly sensitive clit and start to play with it.
Without thinking, I rock into him—moaning, wanting, needing more.
“So eager,” he rasps in my ear.
His dark voice sends waves of pure heat through my body. I keep my eyes closed, though I’m definitely not asleep anymore. I just don’t want to break the spell.
His free hand glides from my tits, over my rib cage and my hip, down to my knee, and he hooks my leg up. I push my head back and cry out as he enters me in this position, his fingers still on my clit.
“Oh God . . . oh fuck,” I pant.
My body melts into his, obeying his every command, and soon I’m moving in unison with him. It’s still dark outside. The only sounds are our hard breaths, our moans, and Reaper’s cock slamming into my dripping pussy, again and again.
I almost can’t believe this is real. My fingers dig into his arm and his neck while he fucks me into oblivion.
“If you could see yourself right now . . .” His voice is pure gravel. His lips graze my skin, and I moan out loud when he bites my neck. “Just like that,” he groans into my ear, pounding into me harder. “Take that cock, baby. Take it like a good little thief.”
He quickens his pace, slamming into me faster, and I match his thrusts with my hips. His fingers blur over my clit while my own hands grab my tits and pinch my nipples the same way he did before.
“Come on my dick like the bad girl I know you are.”
My orgasm rips through me without warning, and I scream. I scream so loud I’m sure people miles away can hear me, but I don’t fucking care. Wave after wave hits me, then I feel him getting even harder inside of me. Reaper comes with a deep groan, shooting his load into me until it leaks out.
My entire world just came to a crashing stop. I don’t even recognize myself as I lie there breathless, naked, sweaty, and thoroughly fucked. My muscles shake with exhaustion, and my eyes fall shut again.
Reaper’s lying beside me on his back, still wearing his mask and most of his clothes, breathing hard, with one arm thrown over his head.
Neither of us says a word. There’s no need. We’re technically still enemies, even after he fucked the ever-loving life out of me. He’s still after the files I stole from his boss, and I don’t doubt for a second he won’t murder me if he has to. He’s a ruthless killer after all.
But I’m a thief. And if there’s one thing I can do better than anyone, it’s get in and out of places unseen.
I wait with my eyes closed, pretending to nod off.
I wait until Reaper’s breathing calms down.
I wait until I’m one hundred percent sure he’s fast asleep.
Then I get up slowly, ever so slowly, grab my clothes and my bag, and sneak out.
Cold air hits me as I close the door quietly behind me. It must be early morning, because the first glimmers of sunlight are painting the sky pink.
I put on my clothes and bind the pieces of my shirt into a knot over my stomach. Then I take the bag and run.
I don’t turn around. I don’t look back.
I know the sound of his voice, the touch of his hands on my skin, and what he feels like deep inside of me. But I never saw his face, and I don’t know his real name.
And I never will.
It’s better that way, or I might turn up dead for real.
So I run, ignoring the small part of me that already misses the feel of him . . .