Page 50 of The Sniper

Her nails raked my chest, red lines blooming, and I growled, flipping her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head.

Spread her wide, thrust in deep—harder, faster, the bed creaking under us, headboard banging the wall.

She arched, cried out, her voice breaking on my name, and I bent down, sucked a nipple into my mouth, biting sharp until she gasped.

“Noah—please—” she panted, legs wrapping my waist, heels digging into my ass, urging me deeper.

I kissed her, rough, tongue claiming her, tasting the salt of her skin as I pounded her senseless—every stroke a fire, every moan fuel.

She was mine—open, trembling, her walls gripping me tight, and I shifted, hit that spot inside her that made her scream, her body bowing off the bed. Just like in my dream.

I slid a hand down, found her clit, rubbed it fast—circles, pressure—and she shuddered, came hard, her pussy pulsing around me, soaking me as she screamed my name.

I didn’t stop—flipped her over, yanked her hips up, and took her from behind, deep and brutal, hands bruising her skin as I slammed into her.

She pushed back, met every thrust, her ass bouncing against me, moans muffled into the pillow, loud and desperate.

Reached around, stroked her clit, and she came again—harder, shaking, her voice hoarse as she begged, “More—Noah—please?—”

I growled, feral, lost in her—her heat, her sounds, the way she took me like she was born for it.

Pulled out, flipped her back, plunged in again.

She clawed my arms, nails drawing blood, her eyes locked on mine, dark and wild, begging without words.

Her hands yanked my hair, pulled me down, and she kissed me—hot, messy, tongue tangling with mine as her body tightened again.

“Noah—I’m—” She broke off, came hard, loud, her pussy clamping down, milking me, and I lost it—thrust once, twice, and spilled into her, a groan tearing out, vision blurring as I emptied everything into her.

Her name ripped from my throat, a chant I couldn’t stop, her heat pulling me under, her body trembling beneath me as we crashed together.

I collapsed over her, sweat-slick, chest heaving, her legs still hooked around me, her breath hot against my neck.

She shuddered, clinging to me, her nails easing off my skin, and I rolled us, pulling her on top, her head tucked under my chin.

The room spun slow—sweat, sex, her scent filling theair, thick and heavy—and I held her, hands roaming her back, tracing the curve of her spine.

She fucked me raw, took me apart, and I’d given it all—every thrust, every growl, every ounce of want I’d been choking on since I first saw her.

Minutes stretched, her breathing slowing, and I felt it—soft, wet tears against my chest.

She was crying, quiet now, not the loud sobs from before, but something deeper, something that leaked out after the storm.

I froze, hands stilling on her skin, no fucking clue what to do next.

Didn’t know how to fix this—her grief, her pain, the way she’d just fucked me like she could outrun it, only to crash back into it now.

I’d hunted men, killed them, burned through life with a gun in my hand, but this?

This soft, broken crying on my chest?

I was lost.

15

HALLIE MAE

The room was quiet.

---