Page 35 of The Sniper

Idrove her back to her little apartment, the truck’s engine growling low, a match for the heat coiling tight in my gut.

Dinner had been a slow tease—her in that slate-blue dress, the way it hugged her thighs, her lips brushing her glass, those blue eyes catching mine like a snare. The dock had snapped the leash—her in my lap, her mouth opening under mine, soft then desperate, her taste sinking into me like a drug.

By the time I pulled up outside her place, courtesy was ash on the wind.

She stepped out, barefoot, shoes dangling from one hand, the hem of her dress riding up just enough to make my jaw lock. I followed, slamming the door hard, pulse hammering in my throat as she unlocked her apartment and slipped inside, leaving the door cracked. An invitation I didn’t need twice. I kicked it shut behind me, the lock clicking sharp in the quiet, and she turned—those eyes, wide and blazing, slamminginto me like a bullet.

Then she moved. Not tentative, not shy. She grabbed the straps of her dress and yanked them down, peeling it off like she’d been caged in it her whole life, letting it pool at her feet. No bra, just a thin strip of white lace barely clinging to her hips, her skin flushed hot in the dim kitchen light.

My cock twitched, already pulsing, straining against my slacks like it’d tear through to get to her.

“Fuck, Hallie Mae,” I growled, closing the gap, hands clamping her waist, fingers sinking into her heat.

She gasped—sharp, needy—and I lost it.

Lifted her onto the kitchen counter, the edge biting her thighs, and she spread them wide, no hesitation, offering herself up like a goddamn feast. I dropped to my knees, shoved that lace aside, and buried my face in her. She was soaked—slick, hot, dripping—and I groaned low, tongue dragging slow and deep, tasting every inch of her. Salt and sweet, her thighs trembling under my grip, her hands twisting into my hair, pulling hard enough to sting. I didn’t care—sucked her clit between my lips, flicked it fast, lapped at her like I’d die without it.

“Noah—” Her voice cracked, high and raw, hips bucking against my mouth.

I gripped her ass, yanked her closer, ate her like she was mine to ruin. My tongue plunged inside, curling, fucking her with it, then back to her clit, sucking hard until her moans turned jagged, her body shaking on the edge.

She was loud—louder than I’d dreamed—crying my name like a prayer gone filthy, and I drank it in, relentless, lips and tongue working her until she was a mess of gasps and tremors.

I stood, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and hauled her off the counter. Her legs locked aroundmy waist, her wet heat grinding against me, and I carried her to the sofa, dropping her onto the cushions.

She tore at my shirt—buttons popping, fabric ripping—and I shrugged it off, kicked my slacks down, my cock springing free, thick and throbbing. She straddled me, sinking down slow, taking me in deep, her walls clenching tight around me.

I groaned, hands on her hips, thrusting up as she rode me—hard, fast, her nails clawing my chest, leaving red streaks I’d feel tomorrow.

Her head tipped back, blonde hair spilling wild, and she moved like she owned me—hips rolling, tits bouncing, mouth open in a silent scream.

I gripped her harder, slammed up to meet her, the slap of skin on skin raw and brutal, filling the room with heat and need.

She was perfect—tight, hot, alive—and I couldn’t think, couldn’t stop, just watched her take me, her body shuddering with every thrust.

Then she shifted—unmounted my cock, swung a leg over my shoulders, and planted herself on my face. Wide open, dripping, her thighs clamping my head, her scent flooding me. I fucking loved it—growled into her, tongue diving deep, hands squeezing her ass as she rocked hard against me.

She was shameless, grinding down, chasing it, and I gave her everything—sucked her clit, licked her slit, ate her out like I’d been starving for it.

Her moans turned to whimpers, her fingers yanking my hair, and I felt her tighten, right there, ready to break.

“Noah—” She tugged hard, slid off, panting, eyes wild. “Bedroom. Want it there. First time.”

I didn’t wait—scooped her up, her legs hookingaround me, her heat pressed against my cock, and carried her down the hall. Kicked the bedroom door open, threw her onto the small, unmade bed, sheets tangled like she’d been restless all night.

She pulled me down, hands on my shoulders, nails biting, legs spreading wide, and I thrust in—one hard, deep stroke, burying myself to the hilt. She arched, a cry tearing out, loud and desperate, and I fucked her like I’d lost my mind.

It was hot—filthy, primal, the bed creaking under us, the headboard slamming the wall with every thrust. She clawed my back, her heels digging into my ass, urging me deeper, and I gave it to her—harder, faster, my hands pinning her wrists above her head, stretching her out under me. Her tits bounced with every snap of my hips, her nipples hard, begging, and I bent down, sucked one into my mouth, biting just enough to make her gasp.

“Noah—fuck—” Her voice broke, raw and needy, and I kissed her, rough, teeth clashing, tongue claiming her while my cock pounded her senseless.

She was mine—open, trembling, her walls gripping me tight, and I couldn’t get enough—shifted my angle, hit that spot inside her that made her scream, her body bowing off the bed.

I slid a hand down, found her clit, rubbed it fast and hard, and she came apart with a cry that echoed in my skull, her pussy pulsing around me, hot and wet and perfect.

But I wasn’t done.

Flipped her over, yanked her hips up, and took her from behind—deep, brutal, my hands bruising her skin as I slammed into her.

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