“Oh, god. Dimitri. Fuck. Yes. Yes.”
Dimitri moaned, his tongue lavishing at my clit in slow, soft circles.
This man and his fucking tongue.
It’d been three days since he cornered me at the airport, and it’d been the best, goddamn three days of my life. We’d retreated back to one of the many townhouses I owned under an alias and done nothing but eat, sleep and fuck. Literally. We actually hadn’t left since we got there. When I told him he had some serious making up to do, he’d taken that as some sort of challenge, giving me orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. But it wasn’t only about the sex.
Over the last three days, he showed me exactly what it was like to be loved by him. Cherished. He was the same Dimitri I knew, but also vastly different. Affectionate. Loving.
Don’t get me wrong, he was still a giant pain in my ass. We found ourselves arguing almost every day about something or other, but it was the fun kind of arguing that served as foreplay for us.
Speaking of which…
My legs tightened around his head as my climax rushed to the surface, exploding all throughout my body, right down to my fingertips and toes. The pleasure soaring through my veins was complete and utter ecstasy. I couldn’t think of anything fucking better.
Dimitri sunk his teeth into the skin at the apex of my thighs, marking me with a harsh bite. I hissed, the pain morphing into exquisite pleasure.
One thing I’d come to quickly realise about Dimitri was that the man had a serious marking kink. Not that I was complaining. In fact, I fucking loved it. I sported all of those handprints, bruises, hickeys and bite marks like badges of honor.
He rose up to his knees, a dark, sinful smirk on his lips as he swiped up my wetness from his chin with a finger. “You’re fucking devine,” he whispered in reverence, sucking his finger into his mouth. “Legs up. Spread them wide. That’s it. Look at that pretty little pussy, dripping wet for me.”
I melted under his praise, my skin burning hot. Another thing I loved about him was that he had a wicked fucking mouth.
“Dimitri,” I whimpered, eyeing his cock with desperation. It stood tall, thick and hard, teasing me with its closeness.
“Don’t worry, baby. I won’t make you wait.” His term of endearment made me feel all tingly inside, butterflies blooming in my stomach. He flattened his palms on the underside of my ass, his fingers digging into my flesh as he spread his knees wide and slowly moved his hips forward.
The head of his cock touched my entrance, and I shivered in anticipation. Inch by glorious inch, he sunk into me, going deeper and deeper, my pussy rippling around him.
When he bottomed out, his head tipped back, and a deep, masculine groan filled with pure male satisfaction fell from his lips.
I cupped my breasts, panting at not only the feel of him but also the sight. His hard body on complete display for me. Muscles bunching in his arms and chest. Veins throbbing beneath his skin. Abs so tight and defined, I could bounce a quarter off them.
It should be illegal to look that fucking good.
And he was all mine.
Lust-filled eyes snapped to me. His hand disappeared behind his back for a moment only to reappear holding a knife.
My pussy clamped down on his cock and he grunted, grasping my hip tightly with his other hand. He flipped it in the air so the flat side of the blade landed in his palm and then he offered me the hilt.
“What letter are we on now?”
Excitement pooled low in my belly. “T,” I breathed out, taking the knife.
He grinned and held out his forearm, his hips slowly beginning to move. Pleasure hit me deep inside. Two letters were already etched into his flesh.
A and U.
The look of them sent me spiraling closer to my release.
When he first asked me to cut my name into his skin, I’d called him bloody crazy, despite how much that thought almost made me come on the spot. I’d done a lot of shit, but cutting my name into someone’s body was a definite first for me. He’d joked about doing something like that before, but never in a million years did I think he was actually serious.
“Do it, baby.” He moved at a slow, leisurely pace, his cock sliding in and out. “Mark me,” he groaned. “Carve your name into my skin.”
My eyes rolled into the back of my head for a brief moment. Seriously, he is going to be my goddamn undoing.
I mean, fuck. I knew we were sexually compatible, but it was just next level.
Panting heavily, I grabbed his wrist with one hand and brought the knife to his skin with the other. He started moving faster when the tip of the blade made contact, almost like the excitement was becoming too much to handle. Pleasure pulsed inside me with each thrust. It took all of my concentration to stop my hand from shaking.
Dimitri hissed, eyes flashing, a mixture of both pleasure and pain streaking across his face when I made the first cut. A straight line barely a few inches long. A small amount of blood trickled down his forearm, and my stomach tightened at the sight.
“Yes,” he growled, pumping faster and faster. “Cut me again.”
I did as he demanded, finishing off the letter with a horizontal slice. Once I was done, he gripped my hips with both hands and started slamming me down onto his cock at the same time he surged forward.
Bliss. It was pure fucking bliss.
“You. Feel. So. Fucking. Good,” he dragged out with a deep, low moan, punctuating each word with a hard thrust.
“So do you—oh, fuck, so do you. Harder, baby. Harder.”
He gave it to me full fucking force, holding nothing back. My whole body trembled as another orgasm built up quickly, almost taking me over.
I threw the knife to the side, and it embedded into the wall. Dimitri flattened his body down onto mine and slammed his lips against mine. His tongue pushed into my mouth with a messy, wet kiss, and I moaned, kissing him back.
I gripped his shoulders tightly and just held on for dear life as he fucked me ruthlessly with all the strength he possessed. He nibbled down my chin before latching his fucking teeth onto my neck. He sucked, hard, no doubt leaving another punishing bruise. His hands took mine and pinned them above my head, holding me down. I strained against him, not really wanting to be released but loving the force he used to keep me exactly where he wanted me.
“Dimitri! Fuck!” I screamed, the pleasure so intense that I couldn’t even draw breath. My climax hit me hard, obliterating my senses, a tidal wave of pure ecstasy washing over me.
I went limp. Dimitri kept fucking, his cock pistoning in and out, in and out, like he couldn’t stop, my body jolting forward with each of his harsh thrusts.
“Gonna fill you up so fucking hard,” he grunted against my skin, moving to another part of my neck to mark me some more with his teeth.
My eyes rolled into the back of my head. Dear god.
He moaned, low and long and deep, his tongue licking at my skin as he emptied himself inside of me. His hips pumped a few more times before he released a satisfied breath and then collapsed completely on top of me.
I startled awake, shooting up in bed, my heart beating wildly. Confusion wracked me, my sleepy eyes looking around the dark, empty room. Beside me, Dimitri slept peacefully on his stomach, his arms cradled under his pillow as his head rested on top of it. He didn’t snore. Thank god, otherwise, he’d be sleeping in the spare bedroom.
Frown on my face, I stayed still, not moving a muscle. Something had woken me up from a pretty good fucking dream, and I had no idea what it was.
But it was something. I knew that much.
The sound of something clattering from downstairs reached my ears, and my entire body went into hyper-alert, my bones stiffening.
Is someone in my goddamn house?
Probably not, I thought to myself. It was most likely just Scuba Steve, my cat. He came and went as he pleased, sometimes leaving dead birds and mice on my couch. He was kind of an asshole, but what cat wasn’t?
After one more quick glance at Dimitri, I slipped out of bed quietly. Part of me wondered if I should wake him, but he’d given me such a good fucking before, I thought it best to let him rest.
Keeping my footsteps light, I made my way across the room to the door, swiping up my underwear from the floor. If someone was in my house, I wasn’t going to give them a free show.
Having carpet in my townhouse worked to my advantage, my footsteps soundless as I left my bedroom and started down the stairs. I paused every few seconds, listening intently. More clattering came from below, and I knew without a shred of doubt that someone was definitely in my house.
Whoever they were, they were fucking dead.
The bottom of the stairs opened up into a hallway. I could go left, entering into the lounge area or right, going into the dining room that led straight into the kitchen. I had guns and knives stashed in little hideaway spots in each room of the house. Whether or not I could get to one before being spotted was the question.
Hushed, frantic voices reached my ears. They were coming from the left, so I went right, darting through the dining room and going straight for the kitchen. A large, marble island sat in the middle of the room. I hurried forward, taking cover behind it. Keeping low, my hand ran along the outside of it until I found the little compartment I was looking for. I lightly banged the side of my fist against it and a gun popped out.
Hello, Maggie.
Maggie was a .22 Magnum Pistol. She was light, easy to conceal and always reliable. With quick movements, I picked her up, checked the mag and chamber and took aim just as I could hear someone enter the room.
“This is the last room,” a man whispered, voice slightly muffled.
“Once we clear it, we make our way upstairs. Remember, shoot to kill. He’s dangerous,” another man responded.
He?
Fuckers were there for Dimitri. So many questions flew through my head. Who were they? Were they hired guns, sent by Sergei? How did they know he was here? That particular townhouse was under an alias no one knew about. It was why I’d specifically chosen it.
If any of them lived, I’d fucking ask them, and if they chose not to answer, I’d torture it out of them.
Any team worth a damn would spread out when clearing a room, which meant they were most likely going to be at opposite ends, making them harder to kill at the same time.
That was okay. I loved a challenge.
Reaching up, I pulled a knife from a draw and spun, quickly moving to the back of the island. Footsteps came from my left and right. They were each walking down one side of the island.
Excitement sizzled in my bones, The Crimson Death scratching at my skin, demanding freedom. A sadistic smirk curled on my lips as I let her take over. I flipped the knife into a reverse grip, adjusted my position until I was crouched, both feet flat to the floor and waited.
The one on the left stepped into my view first. So, he died first.
Sliding on my knees, I sliced the sharp edge of the blade across his shins in a brutal cut, spun around his body as he cried out in pain, shot up behind him and rammed the knife into the base of his neck at the same time I took aim at the other man across the island and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The bullet tore through the man’s head, right between his eyes. He thumped to the ground. A rain of bullets came out of nowhere, and I dropped, a hiss falling from my lips. A small trickle of pain pulsed from my arm.
Just a graze, I breathed out in relief.
I army-crawled into the laundry room located beside the kitchen and slammed the door shut. Somewhere along the way, I’d dropped my gun, and I wanted to kick myself. Bullets ripped through the door, wood raining down on me. When they suddenly stopped, I knew it was because they needed to reload, and that it would be my only chance to get back on the offensive.
Jumping to my feet, I ran out to see a man in tactical gear reloading the gun in his hands. A silencer was screwed onto the barrel. We locked eyes. He slammed the magazine into the gun. I threw my knife. He dove to the right, and I rushed forward, slamming my knee into his chest in a flying knee strike. He went flying back but recovered fast, rolling into a reverse somersault and springing back up to his feet.
We locked into a battle of blows, throwing punches and kicks at each other trying to gain the upperhand. He was very good. His services most likely cost a small fortune. Had it been six months before, he might have beaten me, he was that good. But I had something other than myself to fight for.
The man I loved.
And there was no way in hell I was going to let anything happen to Dimitri.
With love and determination pumping in my veins, I attacked him with everything I had.
He threw a punch. I ducked, wrapped my arms around his and twisted sharply. Something snapped. He roared in pain. I flicked my leg behind me and up, leaning forward so my foot would smash into his face. He stumbled backwards, a curse flying from his mouth.
Spinning on my heels, I hit him with a brutal, roundhouse kick right to the chest. He flew back, landing harshly onto my glass coffee table, shattering it. He groaned and went to get back up, then just collapsed, passing out.
Banging from upstairs made my eyes whip to the ceiling.
No. There were more of them, and I left Dimitri sleeping.
Leaving the unconscious man exactly where he was, I sprinted out of the room, up the stairs and barged into my bedroom.
Dimitri stood there, covered in blood, face a mask of pure rage. Three dead bodies lay on the floor around him, pools of blood seeping into my beautiful white carpet. A fourth assassin was on their knees in front of him, not moving a muscle thanks to the blade pressed firmly to their neck.
Dimitri’s eyes snapped to me, and a tidal wave of relief seemed to wash over him right before me. “Are you okay?” His voice was like granite, hard and raspy.
“Fine,” I panted. “You?”
“Pissed off,” he snarled. “Why weren’t you in bed?”
“I heard a noise downstairs, so I went to check it out.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not sure I like your tone.”
“Fuck my tone, Autumn!” he growled. “A group of assassins just broke into our house and tried to kill us.”
“Awww,” I gushed, stepping forward. “You called it ’our house’. You’re so cute.”
He glared daggers at me. I just continued to smile as I walked and stopped directly in front of him. I gave him a chaste kiss on the lips and he grumbled, his body relaxing slightly.
“This is such a sweet moment, I’d hate to interrupt it. Why don’t I just go?”
My whole body stiffened at the sound of the assassin’s voice.
“Shut up,” Dimitri snapped. I saw the exact moment he decided to go for the kill shot, his arm swinging back to plunge the knife into the assassin’s neck.
“Wait!” I rushed out.
Slight frown on his brows, Dimitri did as I asked.
The assassin was wearing the same tactical gear as the others, as well as a ski mask over their face. I pulled it off.
“Vanessa.”
My kind-of-friend/co-worker smiled. “Hi, Autumn.” She was a beautiful woman. Shoulder-length honey blonde hair. Perfect skin. Chocolate brown eyes. She was in her early thirties with a tall, curvy body.
Dimitri’s gaze whipped between us. “You know her?”
“I’m her best friend,” Vanessa said with confidence, her head held high.
“No, you’re not,” I said incredulously.
“Okay fine. I would be if you weren’t so anti-social.”
I said nothing.
She smiled again. “See. Told ya.”
I took the knife from Dimitri’s hand and pointed it at her. “Tell me what you’re doing here right now, Vanessa, or I’ll gut you from throat to pelvis.”
“Dramatic much.” Dimitri shook her roughly. “Alright, alright, jeez. But only because you’re my best friend.” She winked at me. I rolled my eyes. “I’m here on a job.”
Fuck. So Sergei did put a contract out on Dimitri after I refused to kill him.
“Is the contract open?” I asked, trepidation curling down my spine.
“Yep. Sorry, Auty, I know Silver Fox is your man, but ten million dollars was just too good to pass up.” Her use of the nickname she insisted on calling me did nothing to quell the anxiety bubbling up within me.
Ten. Million. Dollars.
That high a sum would have every assassin in the world looking to cash it in.
I looked at Dimitri. “Your father is a real asshole.”
He just grunted in acknowledgement.
We hadn’t yet had a chance to discuss his father and the fact that he’d originally hired me to kill him and not Dominik. We’d been enjoying our little ’“Fuck fest” bubble too much.
But now we had no choice but to confront it.
“Is there one for me, too?” I asked.
Vanessa shook her head. “Not that I know of.”
That confused me a little, but one problem at a time. “If one comes up, will you be looking to take it?”
She didn’t even hesitate. “If the sum is high enough.” One of the reasons why I liked Vanessa was because she was brutally honest. She didn’t lie or try to sugarcoat things.
The smartest thing to do would be to kill her. It would mean one less assassin out there to worry about claiming the bounty.
Sighing, I said, “let her go.”
Dimitri did as I asked with zero hesitation. Vanessa got back on her feet, keeping her movements slow and unthreatening, a small smile on her lips.
“Because of our history, you get one free pass, Vanessa. One. And that’s it. You try this again, and I swear you’ll be dead before you hit the ground, and Cole will grow up an orphan.”
The smile dropped on her face instantly at the mention of her son. Dimitri was my one weak spot. Cole was hers. Her son was three years old and cute as a button. I’d met him a few times when we were both working the same jobs. She had a rule that no matter what she was doing, she would call her son every night to say goodnight. She loved him more than money, and that was saying something, because Vanessa was all about the cash.
Her eyes bore into mine, any ounce of mischievousness and friendliness completely gone. I had a feeling our friendship had just taken a massive hit. “Understood,” she said, voice cold.
I flicked my head. “Get out of here.”
After she left, Dimitri encircled me in a tight hug. “You okay?” he murmured into my hair.
I nodded, breathing him in, his scent calming me instantly. “What are we going to do?” It took a lot to worry me. I wasn’t easily rattled. But that business with Sergei had fear and anxiety almost swallowing me whole.
I couldn’t lose Dimitri. I just couldn’t. I was sure I wouldn’t survive it.
He took my face in his hands and stared deep into my eyes. He emanated power and strength, not a single ounce of the fear flooding my veins showing on his face. “We call a family meeting.”
