His hand wrapped around my neck, right below my jaw, holding my head in place. His tongue ran along my lips, traveled everywhere his thumb had spread the blood.
Beneath the robe, I was soaked. Wetness coated my thighs. I shouldnotbe getting wet for the man who wanted me dead. I should not be letting the man I was tasked to kill lick blood off my face.
We should not be doing any of this.
But I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to stop.
His mouth captured mine, his kiss punishing as I whimpered into him. His free hand slid down the side of my thigh, grabbing my knee and hooking it around his waist.
My hips moved, desperate for any sort of friction. The robe parted enough to expose my pussy, my clit rubbingalong the rough material of his jeans, right over his hard bulge.
The hand on my neck held me upright as I braced my good arm behind me on the counter. His tongue slipped into my mouth, a metallic taste passing between us. Our breaths were heavy, our bodies on fire.
My hips moved faster, my clit aching for more.
Henley’s fingers dug into my bare leg. “That’s it, little killer. Rub that needy pussy all over me. Make my jeans a fucking mess.”
I moaned, hating that I was chasing a high only Henley seemed to give me. With other men, there was sex. With Henley, there was danger and desire and that rough edge I needed. We were dirty and starving, only able to quench each other’s thirst with what should have been forbidden between us.
His hand squeezed my throat tighter, cutting off just enough oxygen to make me feral. My pussy throbbed, aching to be filled. But sex felt like too much. Like the moment he entered me, we’d lose sight of the plan, and emotions would get skewed.
He released my leg, bracing his palm on the counter as he leaned into me harder. The pressure on my clit was just enough to have my core tightening.
His mouth continued devouring me, tongues exploring and teeth clashing.
My stomach twitched, my orgasm spilling out of me with a scream. He swallowed every sound, never once parting from me as my humping turned feverish.
He groaned, pressing harder and harder. One orgasm turned into two as he moved his hips, thrusting against me.At once, his movements ceased, and his teeth dug into my bottom lip.
Our breathing was erratic, my energy spent as he finally pulled away from me. My back slouched as I leaned back onto my good arm a bit more.
His gaze roamed down my body, eyes lingering between my legs. I didn’t care to close them, too tired to feel self-conscious that they were parted far too wide.
Darkness flickered over his features before he scooped me into his arms for the third time today.
My head immediately rested on his chest like it belonged there. “I could get used to this.”
“Orgasms, bullet wounds, and being carried?” he asked, walking into my bedroom.
“Mm-hmm,” I hummed, eyes heavy. Adrenaline crashes never hit me so hard, but I guessed the injury had a lot to do with my exhaustion. That, and the orgasm following my visit with Doctor Henley. I snorted to myself.
He looked down at me. “What?”
“Should I call you Dr. Henley now?” I asked, letting my eyes close.
“Please don’t.”
Softness enveloped me. Then I was moved around a bit as he pulled off my robe. I let him, somehow knowing he wasn’t doing it to be crude.
“I only got lightheaded because we’d planned to go to a sushi buffet after the spa. Not because of the blood,” I told him, my words sounding slightly drowsy. I didn’t want him to think I was weak.
“So, what? You starved yourself to fit more sushi?”
I lamely attempted to raisea finger. “Bingo.”
A blanket was pulled over my body, and I snuggled deep into my pillow. When only silence enveloped me after, I asked, “Are you staying?”
“Do you want me to?”
