Page 39 of Stolen By the Hit Man
“I like the way you think,” I say, leaning in.
Joaquin holds back for a second, his gaze scanning my forehead, my nose, my chin. “What are you doing?” I ask.
“Memorizing your face.”
Chill bumps form on my arms.
My lips part. That hot, liquid feeling flows back in. The feeling is never that far away when Joaquin is around, or even in my thoughts.
I wait.
I’m relieved that he said, “keep you in my life.” He didn’t say “keep you here.” And that makes me trust him.
I finish feeding the sleepy kitten and nestle him inside a cozy box that Joaquin has fitted with a blanket.
He waits patiently for me to tuck the kitten into bed, then resumes kissing me.
Joaquin is the perfect combination of making me want him but not demanding anything from me, other than letting him take care of me. It feels, frankly, refreshing.
Finally, Joaquin’s lips capture mine like a slow-moving train. Unstoppable. Insistent. We both know exactly where this is headed, and we’re both on board.
He would never treat me like he owns me, but in this moment, I want him to.
The kiss is slow and thorough, every lick of his tongue bringing me closer to an audible whimper of need. I ache to feel his hands on me. I yearn to feel him inside me.
I crawl into his lap, straddling him on the floor, with him leaning against the front of that hideous green sofa.
Feeling his cock rub against my core, through the oversized shorts I’m wearing, I finally let out the moan that I’ve been bottling up. He immediately grips my ass, holding me tight to him as the kiss grows deeper. Wilder.
I brazenly hitch my hips forward, letting my body stroke his erection.
A growl escapes him, and his hands are under my shirt, cupping my bare breasts firmly.
“Fucking magical,” he murmurs, squeezing both nipples between his first and middle fingers. The sensation sends sparksof pleasure all through me. I can feel a wetness between my legs. I should be embarrassed at the thought of making a little mess in his shorts. But as Joaquin urges me on, I am sure he’s not going to care about that.
And then all thoughts of caring about anything go right out the window as he lets go of one breast, reaches down, and snakes his hand up my thigh, under the hem of the shorts. They’re so big and loose on me he has no problem reaching my bare pussy. I move maybe an inch to help him out, and he’s there. Rubbing. Teasing. Finding my clit and making my body cry out for mercy.
“Oh my god…” I breathe against his lips.
“You need to come? I’ll make that dripping pussy come so hard right now?—”
I cut him off with a brash, biting kiss. At the same time, I reach down between our bodies and tug at the button of his jeans. He lets go of my pussy to give me space to touch him, and I feel the absence, like a lover edging me. Once I get the button loose, I unzip his fly, and the next thing I know, I’ve got a bare-ass cock before me. Commando. Thank god. I take Joaquin’s length in my hands greedily. And I squeeze. And I pull.
He sucks in a sharp breath through his gritted teeth, “What do you need, baby?”
“I need you to fuck me, Joaquin.”
“Shit,” he wheezes, slightly laughing. “I didn’t know you could talk like that.”
“You bring it out of me.”
I pull aside one leg of my extra-loose shorts until I have him where I want him. Skin-to-skin.
My body jerks as I use him to toy with my clit.
“Shit…holy shit…Jasmyn…”
I’m so turned on by humping his cock that a sudden orgasm hits me quickly and unexpectedly. I let go of him as I cry out, my spine arching backward as I ride out this spasm. Joaquin pulls me closer, nosing his face under my sweatshirt and taking one nipple in his mouth. The strong pull of his lips and tongue on the one, then the other, extends my surging release.
