Honey and the Hitman

by Hannah Murray

  She blinked at that, questions leaping to her lips. She opened her mouth to ask but subsided when he tapped his finger against her mouth.

  “I haven’t exactly led a conventional life,” he went on. His voice was casual, conversational, but she could hear the strain under the words. “My parents died when I was in college, and it...well, let’s just say it affected me deeply.”

  “How did they die?” she asked quietly.

  “Plane crash,” he said briefly. “They were in a small jet coming back from a weekend getaway. They went down over the Atlantic.”

  “I’m sorry.” She bit her lip in consternation, then sucked in a breath and went on. “I don’t think it matters how old you are, a loss like that has to change you.”

  He squeezed her hip in silent gratitude. “I think you’re right. I managed to finish college,” he went on, “but I was off the rails. It took a long time for me to get back on track again.”

  Her mind was spinning with possibilities, but she stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. For the first time since she’d known him, he looked uncertain. She laid her hand on his chest, an instinctive offer of comfort and support, and saw gratitude flash in his eyes.

  He lifted her hand, pressed a kiss to her palm, then pressed it back to his chest. “I’ve done a lot of things in my life that I’m not proud of,” he finally said, voice thick with emotion.

  “Almost everyone has,” she began, then fell silent when he shook his head.

  “I’m not talking about bullying your kid sister or cheating on a test or shoplifting.”

  “I can see that,” she said slowly. She had to swallow to clear her throat. “Can I ask you a question?”

  He nodded, despair in the depths of his eyes.

  “These things that you aren’t proud of...are you still doing them?”

  “No.” His answer was immediate, and final.

  “Do you plan to do them again?”

  “No.”

  “Okay.” She slid her hand from his chest to his jaw, cupping his face as she smiled into his eyes. “Then that’s enough.”

  He blinked, and his eyes went from bleak to stunned in a heartbeat. “What?”

  “I don’t need to know.” This time she laid a finger across his lips. “Whatever was, was. It can’t be changed. The only thing you can do is go from here.”

  “But...”

  “Whatever you’ve done, wherever you’ve been, whomever you’ve loved, they all helped shape who you are. And I like who you are.”

  He let out a shuddering breath and pressed his brow to hers. “You humble me.”

  Emotion threatened to close her throat. “This is the reason you didn’t want to get involved with me?”

  “Part of it.” He lifted his head to look into her eyes. “Most of it.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, I am involved.” He stroked a hand down her hair. “I thought, after that first time, that we could keep it to sex. We’d see each other occasionally, scratch an itch. Simple, uncomplicated.”

  Since she’d thought much the same, she could hardly be offended. Still, her stomach clutched a little as he continued to stroke her hair.

  “Of course, I didn’t count on liking you this much. Needing you this much.” His hand tangled in her hair, tugging at her scalp. “You snuck up on me, Honoria.”

  “You’re the one who snuck up on me, remember?”

  “And ended up with a face full of sugar for my trouble,” he replied, his lips quirking with fresh amusement. “I wanted you then, you know.”

  It was her turn to blink with surprise. “You did?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he murmured, his voice not much more than a growl. “How could I not? You were so cute.”

  Now she scowled. “Cute?”

  “Cute.” He pressed a kiss to her nose. “Cute, built, and adorably flustered.”

  She glowered at him. “Is this your version of sweet talk? Because really, it could use work.”

  His shoulders shook with laughter. “No, that’s my version of straight talk. I thought you’d appreciate that.”

  “I’ll give you straight talk,” she muttered and made him laugh again.

  “Hush, it’s still my turn.” When her mouth dropped open in outrage, he ducked his head to nip her bottom lip. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

  Shock rendered her speechless. She was silent for so long he quirked a brow expectantly. “It’s your turn now,” he prompted.

  She had to swallow twice before she found her voice. “That’s...unexpected.”

  His eyes shimmered with impatience. “But is it unwelcome?”

  “No. No.” She sucked in a deep breath. “No.”

  His expression tightened a little when she remained silent. “Any other words in there you’d like to share?”

  “Um...no.”

  She saw impatience war with humor in his eyes, watched his lips curve as humor won. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you speechless.”

  “Do you...is this...are you...?” She huffed out a breath as he began to laugh, rolling to his back as he shook with mirth.

  She slapped at his shoulder and scowled. “Hey.”

  “Oh, Jesus,” he gasped, wrapping both arms around his abdomen. “Your face...” he began and lost it all over again.

  She tried to hold on to her indignation, but seeing his joy made her want to smile in spite of the butterflies dancing in her stomach. She smacked him again, a little harder this time, then shrieked when he rolled suddenly, pinning her beneath him.

  “You’re something else,” he murmured, his shoulders still shaking slightly as laughter continued to dance in his eyes. “It’s okay if you’re not there yet,” he told her, sobering a little as he searched her face. “I can wait.”

  She looked up into his eyes, so blue it nearly hurt to look at them, and filled with more warmth and affection than she’d ever hoped to see. It was as though she was standing on the edge of a cliff, and whether she stepped forward or stepped back, it would change everything.

  His hand came up to cradle her face, his eyes going soft and tender, and she sucked in a breath and stepped off the edge. “I think I’m there,” she said, her voice wavering a little. “I just didn’t know you were.”

  The tenderness in his gaze shifted, turning into something so bright, so sharp, it took her breath. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” She let out a shaky breath. “Is it okay that I’m terrified?”

  “Yeah. I am, too.”

  “Really?” She sagged beneath him, relief flooding through her. “Oh, thank God.”

  He was laughing again. “Yeah, you’re something else.” He lowered his head to brush his mouth against hers once, twice. His tongue flicked out to tease, his teeth nipped. “Can I ask you a question?”

  Her stomach clenched at the question. “Sure.”

  “Can we move on to the make-out portion of the evening now?”

  The gleam in his eye made something else clench. “Oh, yeah.”

  The dog, seeing they weren’t paying attention, went for the marshmallows.

  * * *

  Honey woke the next day feeling warm and loose and more than a little tired.

  It was worth it.

  She sighed, shifting a little as she tried to get comfortable enough to go back to sleep, but now that she was awake, her bladder was clamoring for attention. Grousing a bit, she moved to slide out of bed, and the arm encircling her waist tightened.

  “Where are you going?” Ethan rumbled from behind her. His body lay warm and firm against her back. Something else that was warm and firm poked her in the hip.

  “Gotta pee,” she mumbled.

  “Hmmm.” He nosed her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck. “Coming back?”

  She glanced at the clock on the bedside table and did some fast juggling in her head. She didn’t have to be at the school by any particular time, but she’d planned to get some work done in her classroom before headi
ng to her ten-thirty class at the community center. Then he kissed the back of her neck again and slid his hand up to cup her breast, and she decided her classroom could wait.

  “Yeah.” She stroked a hand down his thigh. “I’m coming back.”

  He scraped his teeth over her shoulder. When she shuddered, she felt his lips curve in a smile. “Hurry.”

  She slid out of bed and padded quickly to the bathroom, darting a quick look over her shoulder as she crossed the room. He lay back on her bed, the sheet riding low on his hips. His eyes were sleepy, his hair tousled on the pillow. And the sheet was beginning to tent.

  She hurried.

  When she walked back to bed, it was with his eyes following her, that sleepy, sexy smile on his face as his gaze slid over her naked form. Her nipples were already tight, her pussy already dampening. He’d kicked the sheet aside, revealing the thick length of his morning erection. It made her mouth water, and her breath quicken.

  His eyes gleamed when he saw the direction of her gaze. “Like what you see?” he rumbled.

  “Very much,” she replied huskily, even as her cheeks heated. She knew he saw—he saw everything—but that usual feeling of embarrassment didn’t come. All she felt was more heat.

  She slid into bed beside him, reaching for his cock. She started when he snagged her wrist and held it away. “What?”

  “Later,” he promised. He tucked her beneath him, twining his fingers with hers and tugging both arms up. He wrapped her fingers around the rungs of the old iron headboard. “Keep them there.”

  She pouted. “I wanted to touch you. Taste you.”

  “You will,” he told her, his voice a low rumble. His eyes had already begun to darken, to burn. “But I get to go first.”

  “Why do you get to go first?” she demanded even as her blood heated at the look in his eyes.

  “Because I’m bigger, and I said so.” He kissed her, hard and slow, before raising his head again. “Keep them there.”

  He gave her fingers a slight squeeze to emphasize the order, then slid his hands down her arms to her breasts.

  She sucked in a breath as his rough fingertips, callused from work, trailed over the sensitive skin. Her nipples, already puckered, drew tighter at the light touch, flushing with deep color. He made a sound low in his throat, like that of a man feasting after long going hungry.

  “I love your body,” he murmured. “Every inch of it. But I have to say, these might be my favorite parts.”

  He continued to stroke the plump mounds, avoiding the now straining tips, as he seduced her with his words.

  “Such pretty tits,” he continued, smiling as her body jerked slightly in shock at his word choice. “Soft and firm, sensitive.” His eyes glittered when the tips grew even harder, flushed even darker. “Responsive. Do you have any idea what it does to me, knowing you respond to me this way?”

  She couldn’t speak, couldn’t force the words past the hitch in her chest. She shook her head.

  “It makes me want to howl at the moon, beat my chest like a caveman.” His eyes darkened. “It makes me hard.”

  He lowered his head until his mouth hovered over her breast, over one turgid tip that seemed to strain toward his mouth, though she didn’t move a muscle. “But then, you knew that. Didn’t you?”

  The yes on her lips died in a sharp gasp when his tongue flicked out, one quick, hard lash, and sent her system straight into urgent, unbridled need.

  “You like my mouth on your tits, don’t you, Honey?”

  She had to swallow twice before her voice would work. “Yes.”

  “Tell me.”

  The demand in his voice made her want to melt into a puddle at his feet. Which, she realized, wasn’t an inaccurate description of what she was already doing. “I like your mouth on me.”

  “Where?” His breath puffed out, cooling the dampness on her nipple. “Where do you like my mouth?”

  “On my tits,” she panted, her voice so full of need and yearning it seemed to echo through the room.

  “Yeah, you do,” he growled and gave it to her.

  She arched hard under the lash of sensation, her body’s instinctive reach for more. He ruthlessly held her down. Automatically, her hands loosened to reach for him, to hold him, and his mouth immediately lifted. “No.”

  She blinked up at him, uncomprehending.

  “No,” he repeated. “Put your hands back.”

  She shook her head, confusion and frustration joining the lust. “Why?”

  “Because I want to pleasure you. And I want to watch you take it.” He jerked his chin at the headboard, eyes glittering. “Put your hands back.”

  Her heart thundering in her ears, she obeyed.

  “Good girl,” he said, his voice so raw with lust and need she could barely breathe, then his mouth lowered to her breast again.

  His lips tugged at her, drawing the nipple deep into his mouth and sucking hard, his teeth holding her in place to send sharp little spikes of pain stabbing through her system, pushing the pleasure higher. Her hands curled tight on the rungs of the headboard, pulling against them. She needed to move, to push against the building tension, the incredible, overwhelming heat, but he held her down, giving her no way to assuage the need pumping through her.

  It was amazing.

  Her legs shifted against his, wanting to spread, needing pressure and contact and friction, but he pinned her there, too, controlling her with his greater size and strength. He lifted his head, nostrils flaring as he stared down at the red, wet nipple he’d just left. Then his eyes rose to hers, and a feral grin split his face.

  “Struggle all you want, baby. It’ll just make it hotter.”

  That should make me mad. Shouldn’t that make me mad? But there was no room for it, all the space taken up want and need. He stared into her eyes for one heartbeat, two, and his grip eased just a little, and she realized he was giving her a chance to say no, to move away.

  And now, along with the need, there was tenderness and gratitude.

  Her eyes holding his, she licked her lips and tightened her grip on the headboard.

  His grin went sharp as a blade before he lowered his head again.

  She arched as he fed on her, struggling to make sense of the riot of sensations and emotions. Pleasure, pain, frustration, desperation all tangled and twisted inside her. His mouth slid lower, teeth scraping along her ribs, her hipbone as his hands came up to knead and squeeze her breasts, teasing her nipples. She was so sensitive now that each tug and scrape set off an answering sensation deep within.

  His tongue dipped into her belly button, her abdomen contracting hard at the surprisingly sensual caress. The thick bristles of his beard scraped low, across the top of her mound, and her hips jerked in response.

  His hard hands clamped on her thighs, keeping them tightly closed as he slid his tongue over the top of her pussy.

  This time, her whole body jerked. “God!” No longer pinned down, her torso twisted on the sheets. Relief poured through her as she moved, finally, but when she tried to shift her legs apart, his hands clamped down.

  “No,” he growled and licked at her slit again. With her legs forced together, her pussy was shielded from his tongue, her throbbing clit tucked away. The glide of his tongue did nothing but bring more frustration.

  Which, she realized through the haze of lust, was exactly what he wanted.

  “You’re a fucking tease,” she groaned.

  His laugh, darkly pleased, rang in her ears. “I’m only a tease if I’m not planning to finish you off. And I am.”

  She bucked hard against his hold and didn’t move so much as an inch. “When?”

  He laughed again. “When I’m ready. Fuck, you look good.”

  She forced herself to look down her body to where he hovered over her thighs. His eyes were nearly black now, the blue all but swallowed up. A dull flush rode his cheekbones, and his hands flexed on her thighs.

  “Taste good, too,” he said lightly, and holdi
ng her gaze, dragged his tongue over her mound again.

  Her hips jerked, wanting more, and he laughed. “How bad do you want it, baby?”

  “Are you kidding?” she panted.

  “Nope.” Another lick, and this time, he wiggled the tip of his tongue between her thighs and either by accident or design, barely brushed against her swollen clit. Her low moan nearly drowned out his words. “Tell me.”

  She was panting so hard her breasts were bouncing with each breath. “I want it.”

  “What do you want?”

  She licked her lips, torn between giving him exactly what he was asking for and drawing out the game just a little longer. She wanted his mouth on her, wanted it badly enough to beg. But the devil on her shoulder took over. “I want your tongue.”

  He grinned, eyes lighting with pleasure. “Where do you want it?” he growled.

  “On my cunt,” she rasped, the words practically a moan. “In my cunt. On my clit.”

  “Yes,” he muttered, the flush on his cheeks darkening. His fingers clamped down hard enough to bruise, then he shifted his grip and shoved her wide.

  His growl of satisfaction mingled with her cry of relief.

  “Jesus, look at you,” he breathed, and she realized he was staring at her exposed pussy. A dark flush stained her cheeks, and her legs flexed in an instinctive effort to shield.

  “Uh-uh,” he admonished. He forced her thighs wider, exposing her to his gaze. “I want to look.”

  “Ethan,” she groaned.

  “I want to look at this pretty pussy,” he repeated and lowered his gaze. “So pretty. Pink here.” He shifted to skim a finger over her plump outer labia. The fact he’d released her thigh to do it didn’t even register; she was held captive by his gaze, his touch. “Darker pink here.” He slid his finger over the inner lips of her sex, swollen and open and damp with arousal.

  “And here,” he growled. “So pink, you’re almost red.” He pressed two fingers inside her.

  “You’re so ready for me, baby.” He pulled his fingers out, curling them to scrape against the front wall of her cunt, dragging against her G-spot and making her spasm, then he shoved them deep again. “You’re so wet. I bet I could shove my cock into you right now, hard and fast, and you wouldn’t even flinch.”