Last Breath (Hitman #2)(50)
Author: Jessica Clare

But he only moves to my neck and begins to kiss and suck on my earlobe again, his tongue doing delicious things to that sensitive little area, and I begin to moan and wriggle underneath him again. His skin is slick with sweat, and my nostrils are filled with his warm, delicious scent. It’s Daniel. All Daniel.

He gives my earlobe a gentle bite and I moan, feeling a pulse of desire deep in my core again. He shifts a little and his cock moves inside me, a bit, and it feels good, too. I raise my hips against him, indicating that I want more.

He gives me more, then. His hips move in a slow, steady rocking motion that feels good, and I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on to him as he continues to lick and suck at my earlobe. Before long, I’m moaning under the onslaught, and my clinging to Daniel has a desperate clench to it. My pulse is throbbing all through my body, and my breasts ache with need, but Daniel’s thrusts are like clockwork—slow, steady, even. I know if he sped up, I’d move that much closer to an orgasm.

But he doesn’t—even when I beg—and I begin to thrash under him, becoming wilder as the need grows within me. And still he continues that slow, steady motion, pushing deep inside me, dragging out ever so slowly, and then pushing deep again. All the while, he’s tonguing my earlobe and pressing kisses to it and murmuring all the filthy things he wants to do to me.

“You ever have an orgasm with a guy inside you, Regan? Make you come so hard that you’re practically sucking his dick inside you because you’ve clamped down on him?” He whispers in my ear and outlines my earlobe with the tip of his tongue.

I’m shivering with need, and my response to him is only a low moan of his name.

“I think that’s a no,” he murmurs. “And I think that’s a real fucking shame. Because I want you to squeeze down on me so hard that you’re seeing goddamn stars, fighter baby.”

Is he ready to come? Is this a hint for me to hurry up and have an orgasm? I’ve gotten pretty good at predicting Mike, but Daniel is an unknown to me. Still, I dutifully hitch my breath and squeeze my internal muscles around him, beginning my fake-out so he can finish up.

“Uh-uh,” he says to me. “I want the real thing.”

My pleasure is suddenly ebbing away. “Daniel, I don’t know—”

“I do,” he says, and he shifts his hips, reaching between us. His fingers find my clit and he puts his thumb over it, even as he pulls back and thrusts deep inside me again.

My entire body clenches hard, and I’m startled at the pleasure that rolls through me. I gasp, my eyes going wide. The sensations he’s sending through me now are so intense, they’re almost frightening. “Daniel—”

“Shhh, I’ve got you, fighter baby,” he murmurs, and he begins that slow, steady hammering again, his thumb bouncing against my clit with each movement. And I’m not able to sit back and enjoy the ride anymore. I’m going crazy underneath him, my hips moving to buck against his every thrust, pushing that thumb harder against my clit, our bodies slapping with the force of each thrust.

I’m frantic, soft little whimpering sounds escaping my throat as I move higher and higher toward fulfillment. It feels like too much, but I don’t want it to stop, and I cling to Daniel, gasping his name, my nails digging in to his shoulders.

“That’s right, Regan, sweetheart. Sweet fucking fighter baby doll. Come for me.” His voice is a growl of need, and his thrusts are growing rougher despite his slow, measured hammering.

I try to push his hand away from my clit because it’s getting to be too much, but he won’t let me. He knows I’m almost there and when I come, it’s going to be brutal. And I’m a little scared of it. My whimpers take on a frightened edge.

“Shhh, Regan, I’ve got you,” he tells me even as he sinks deep. “I’m here, and I’ve got you.”

With a sob, I’m there. I orgasm so hard that I do, in fact, see stars. My body seems like every muscle has squeezed itself into a taut line, and I feel as if I’m folding up and exploding into nothing all at once. My breath escapes in a little scream, and I can feel my pussy clenching around Daniel in hard little squeezes, echoing the contractions of my muscles as I come and come and come. Daniel’s saying something in my ear, and his movements are rough, and I realize he’s coming too.

He’s coming, and he’s still got me.

When I can breathe again, Daniel collapses on top of me, and then jerks away as if burned. A second later, he rolls me on top of him, dragging my limp body over his as he begins to stroke my back once more. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“I’m . . . I’m okay,” I say, and I’m horrified to see that I’m crying. But I am. I don’t know if it’s the intensity of my release or being with Daniel or what it is, but I’m crying and it feels good. “Really. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

He pats my shoulder. “Because it was that bad? You can give it to me straight. I know I’m rusty.”

For some reason, that makes me giggle through my tears. “No, it was g-good,” I say through my tears. “Thank you. I think I’m . . . letting everything out.” And I shudder a breath into my lungs.

I know why I’m crying.

I’m crying because I’m in love with Daniel and I absolutely, positively should not be.

Nineteen

Daniel

REGAN CRYING AFTER SEX FEELS about as good as a stick up the ass. I pat her awkwardly with one hand as I pull off the condom with the other. With a twist, I knot it and toss it into the trash. Meanwhile I rifle through the video memory I’d captured, trying to see if there was a point at which I’d forced her to continue. It seemed like she loved it. Her pussy was squeezing me so tight I thought my dick would snap off—but I’d be a happy dickless man. For the sake of my own sanity, I accept that her tears are as she said—letting it all out. I rub her back, enjoying the feel of her soft body spread out all over mine. Lust still licked around the base of my spine. One time really wasn’t enough. I needed her to ride me until there wasn’t any emotion, fluid, or feeling left in our bodies. Until we’d fucked each other so hard and so long that all we could do was melt into the bed, two formless beings drained by sex. The outside world could go to hell so long as I could lie here inside of her.

I’d been running for months, looking in every hideaway and whorehouse between Europe, Asia, and the Americas. All I wanted to do now was hold Regan. Okay, hold her and fuck her—but with a lot of meaning. I’m going to have a hard time letting her go because in the short time that we’ve known each other I realize she fits me better than anyone else I know. She’s unperturbed by my smartass mouth and, in fact, gives back in equal measure. She’s stronger than anyone and hasn’t slowed me down an iota. Plus, she’s hotter than the sun in the desert.