Maid for the Hitman: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance

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Maid for the Hitman: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 10

by Flora Ferrari

“What do you mean?” she asks.

  “I should’ve gotten something from you,” I growl. “For my generosity.”

  Her eyes widen and she bites her lip.

  That kills me, the way she clings to her lip, her cheeks as red as the inside of her soaked hole.

  “Ryland…”

  “I need that hole,” I breathe huskily. “I need you to take my dick. I need to know my child is inside of you. It’s taken me so long to find you. I need to claim you. Now.”

  I stand up, my whole body tight, my muscles pulsing.

  She sits beneath me, her tits pushed together gloriously, her cleavage roaring at me to claim her, come inside her, make her mine.

  “The door…”

  “Is that a yes?” I snarl.

  She shifts in the chair, wriggling, grinding her pussy against the seat.

  “Yes,” she whimpers. “I’m so wet.”

  “Good girl,” I snarl.

  I pace over to the door and shut it, and then grab the key from my pocket and lock it.

  I stride back over to her and reach down, guiding her to her feet.

  “Fuck, back that ass up on me.”

  “Like this?” she says, shyness making her voice quiver, as she turns that thick ass toward me and starts shimmying backward.

  I bite down, the base of my cock aching.

  I reach forward and slide her dress up, hiking it around her hips, revealing her round spank-me ass in the silky purple panties I left for her.

  I slide my hand up between her legs, rubbing my thumb against the horny nub of her clit through her panties.

  “Oh,” she gasps.

  “You’re so close already,” I growl. “I can tell. I bet you’re soaked.”

  I push her panties aside and slide my middle finger inside of her, staring in carnal fascination as my finger disappears slickly inside her sopping hole.

  I groan as I finger her, pumping my fist against her, purposefully bringing my knuckle softly down on her clit with each motion.

  “Ride it,” I snap.

  “Like… this?” she whines, bucking against my hand.

  “Yes, yes,” I groan, the helm of my cock pulsing at her eagerness.

  She vibrates, melting for me, her hole exploding with a river of wetness. She squirts all over my finger and the juices run down her legs in rivulets that make me so fucking hard.

  “You squirting sexy minx,” I snarl. “Fucking come, Rosie. You look so hot right now.”

  “Yes, yes,” she cries, hardly hearing me, the horny thing is so lost in her orgasm.

  “Ryland,” she gasps, once the reverberations have stopped.

  She turns to face me, her naïve eyes making my cock even tighter.

  “Can I suck it? Can I try?”

  “Are you fucking serious?”

  “I’ve never done it before,” she whispers. “I feel like such a dork.”

  “Turn around. Now.”

  She smiles, giggling cutely, and I know this is the moment where her anxiety starts to fade. She’ll grow into a strong, confident woman as we’re together, starting her publishing career and making the world a better place.

  I slide my hand into her thick walnut hair and guide her mouth to me. With my other hand, I yank my pants down, busting the belt buckle in my need to free my thick hard cock.

  I free it, grabbing the base.

  Rosie gasps, her mouth so close shivers of warm air move up my shaft.

  “Should I touch it?” she says, gazing wide-eyed up at me.

  My balls throb and the base of my shaft pulses. Her ass is sticking out behind her, big and round and beautiful.

  “Yes,” I snarl.

  Does she have any idea how much power she has over me right now?

  She curls her little fist around the base, stroking it up and down slowly, nodding as if to ask if she should keep going.

  I growl out a yes, or I try to, but it comes out as a snarled barking noise.

  She’s waking up the beast inside of me.

  I reach down and take her gorgeous brown hair in my hands.

  “Take it like this,” I snarl, pumping my hips softly, my cock fucking her cute mouth. I can feel her tongue stroking across my tip with each pump.

  “Oh,” she gasps, as I pull my dick out and hold it against her face.

  “Can you take that?” I growl, breathless, captivated.

  “I think so,” she whimpers. “Try again. It’s so hot when you look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” I snarl.

  Her confidence is making me even tenser with need for her.

  “Like I’m the only thing you care about in the whole world,” she moans, and then she slides her pert mouth down my shaft again.

  She pushes down, staring up at me with her wide, tear-filled eyes, and moves back to the tip. I’m captivated, enthralled, a prisoner to this moment.

  She has no idea how hot she looks right now, servicing my cock with her virgin mouth like the needy minx she is.

  “Stand up,” I groan. “I need that pussy.”

  I reach down and take her by the shoulders, pulling her to her feet. She giggles and throws me a sassy, nervous look, as though she can’t decide which one she can let herself be.

  She bends over the table, sticking her ass out with her dress hiked up. I slide my hands up her inner thighs, groaning when I see how she trembles for me.

  I move up, up, and then I grab her panties and tear them loose.

  “Ah,” she gasps, as I drop the ruined fabric to the floor.

  “I’m not sorry,” I snarl, smoothing my hands over the roundness of her delicious ass cheeks. “Stick. It. Out.”

  Slap.

  My spank makes a light noise, a deep red blush moving across her creamy virgin ass cheeks.

  “Oh, fuck—yes,” she moans.

  “You like that?” I growl.

  “Yes,” she whimpers. “But not too hard.”

  I spank her again, making her flesh giggle for me.

  She gasps and wriggles her hips from side to side, as though her sopping wet slit is controlling her movements.

  I step forward, grabbing the hilt of my slick, enflamed dick, and guide my tip to her tight hole.

  I push a tiny bit, just enough to open up her pink virgin hole.

  She takes in tiny breaths as I go deeper and deeper, watch as my thick wet shaft disappears between her round juicy ass cheeks.

  She pushes back against me as I drive up all the way, groaning as her ass flatten against my rock hard abs just like in my fantasy. I reach down and smooth my hands over her ass, savoring every time she quivers.

  “It’s so big,” she gasps.

  “Does it hurt?” I growl.

  “No,” she says. “It’s just so, so freaking big.”

  I hold still, claiming her in the most dominant way I can, fully inside of her, my seed trying to pump up my shaft in an effort to be closer to her. But I hold myself like a predator, ready to explode when I want to explode.

  And right now it’s sweeter watching my little minx twitch and shiver on my dick.

  “Move slow or move fast,” I growl. “Just move, Rosie, whatever you’re comfortable with. I’ll give you a couple of minutes before I properly claim that soaked pink hole.”

  She moans, high-pitched and full of euphoria, as she leans forward away for my cock, her slit slippery against my length. She pauses with her hole clasping my tip tightly, making it tingle like it’s on fire.

  “And back,” I growl.

  “Ah, ah,” she says, sinking toward me, her hole making a cute kissing noise as she falls against me all the way.

  I growl when I feel her loosen a little, just enough to flood my hard dick with even more tension.

  “I can feel it,” I growl. “Your body needs this. Your womb is begging for it.”

  I curl my hands around her hips, pulling her toward me as I pound my cock into her.

  She gasps and grips the table, bucking against me.

 
“Fuck,” I snarl. “When you shifted your ass like that, it drives me crazy.”

  “Like this?” she pants when I slam into her again.

  “Fuck, it’s so sexy when you push back like that.”

  “Am I doing it right?”

  “Does it feel right?” I bark, slamming into her over and over.

  My sexy-as-fuck minx is game, trying her best to meet me with shimmering thrusts of her own, but eventually, I get too fast and savage, pommeling my cock into her.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” she croaks.

  “This better not hurt,” I snarl.

  “No, it doesn’t,” she sings. “God. It’s wet. It’s so wet and hot and lovely.”

  “Lovely?” I smirk, slowing down so I can run my hand down her back, over the curve of her ass, ending in a light spank.

  “It is lovely,” she says, tossing a sassy look at me, eyebrow raised, sweaty from the fusion of our bodies.

  “Show me how hard you can take it, Rosie,” I tell her.

  She pumps her hips back, pushing her tight-gripping hole up my shaft right to the base.

  I pump with her, slamming my cock into her over and over again.

  I’m captivated by the way her ass trembles with each thrust, reverberations moving through her flesh. I grab big handfuls, letting out a carnal roar of satisfaction.

  Thank fuck she’s got so much glorious ass for me to grab onto.

  “Fuck, you’re bouncing on that dick,” I gasp, feeling my control start to slip away from me.

  She’s woken up the dormant dragon inside of me, and now he’s breathing fire, lashing his tail, tearing primal pieces out of my civilized façade.

  I’m an animal, and she knows that.

  She needs it.

  I grab her hips and flip her over, lifting her onto the table. She moans and sits down, glancing at the plates a few feet away.

  They don’t seem real.

  How were we eating dinner a short while ago?

  All I can think about – all that exists for me – is my woman lying on the table, her cleavage thick and teasing in the dress I chose for her.

  “Get those tits out,” I snarl, bringing my cock to her pink glistening hole, wet and shiny with her juices.

  She does as I say, fiddling with the dress.

  I push into her as her breasts spill free, her nipples as hard as I remember them.

  I grab both breasts in greedy handfuls, squeezing them and pushing them together, playing with her nipples as I pump my length into her tight wet horny hole.

  She moans and grinds against me.

  “You’re close,” I growl.

  She nods, her moans making speech impossible.

  “Do it,” I snap. “Squirt on this dick.”

  Her moans turn hollow and she falls back on the table, no longer pumping her hips, shifting and shivering as the orgasm moves through her. I smash into her hole, feeling it quiver in tightness as she comes all over me.

  I look down, enthralled by the sight of her come coating the length of me.

  “Beg me,” I snarl, palming her tit with one hand and gripping a big handful of mouth-watering thigh with the other.

  “Beg me to come in you.”

  “Please,” she gasps, still in the throes of her orgasm. “Come in me, Ryland. Please. I want it. I need it.”

  She screams and I groan at the same time, collapsing atop her, bringing my lips to her neck and kissing, and biting, and groaning like a savage against her fire-hot skin.

  Her hole kisses my dick as I come deep inside of her, quivering against me like her womb is welcoming my seed.

  “Oh my God,” she whispers, her fingernails running through my hair. “Tell me I didn’t make a fool of myself. Tell me this is real.”

  I pull back and stare into her eyes, as my cock slips out of her.

  “You were amazing,” I tell her firmly. “You were everything I could’ve dreamed you’d be. You were – you are – the woman of my dreams. And no, this isn’t a trick. This is the real thing. I’ve put a baby in you now, Rosie. You belong to me.”

  “Forever,” she gasps, her smile wavering. “That was better than I ever expected my first time to be.”

  “The way you pumped those hips…”

  “I felt so silly at first,” she admits, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

  “There was no need,” I say. “It was sexy. It was hot. Everything about it was.”

  She clasps my face in her hands.

  “Thank you,” she says.

  I smirk, stroking my thumb across her cheek.

  “You’ve opened those thick beautiful legs for me, giving my cock free rein on that tight slit, and you want to thank me?”

  I chuckle.

  “I’ve struck gold with you, Rosie.”

  She giggles, and then grows serious.

  “Don’t you ever forget it,” she says.

  “Never,” I snarl. “It’s Rosie and Ryland for life.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Rosie

  I lie in his arms, squeezing his gnarled, muscular forearm against me.

  After the dinner, and the sex, we decided to come back to his bedroom for a lie-down. His bedroom is large and modern, with marble floors covered in plush white rugs, a bar in the corner, and electronic blinds made of faux marble.

  We lie in soft yellow mood lighting on his king size bed.

  “That was quite the dinner,” I murmur, moving my hand over his body and squeezing onto the massiveness of it.

  Everything about him is so big, as though his need to protect me and our family is bulging against the gargantuan physicality of him. He’s huge and primal and beastly.

  And mine.

  After the sex, when he made my insides sizzle and sing, I finally understood what mom meant when she said I had to know.

  I knew before, but now I feel it deep in my bones, deep in my soul if such a thing exists.

  I feel it pumping through me, cheering, my womb quivering with the onset of a release.

  “Let’s hope all our meals are like that,” he teases.

  I giggle, slapping his hand playfully.

  “What if we were in a fancy restaurant, huh?”

  “Then I’ll kick everyone out before I claim that sweet hole,” he chuckles.

  “You’re crazy,” I laugh. “There’s no way you’d do that.”

  “If you’re tempting me with that fucking glorious cleavage, I just might, Rosie.”

  I moan, squeezing onto him hard, feeling the tension of him through the thickness of his muscles.

  “Ryland, what did you mean when you said your dad’s name meant something?”

  “I said that?” he whispers.

  “Yeah,” I say. “Before we…”

  “Fucked like animals?”

  He tickles my neck with teasing fingers. I giggle and turn against him.

  “It means Bucky Radley was a respected hitman who lived by the same code as me. It’s the code he taught me.”

  “About not hurting innocent people?” I ask.

  “Exactly.”

  We pause in the intimacy, listening to each other’s breathing, content to sit and float on this comfortable bed together.

  “What is it, my little skeptic?”

  “What?” I giggle.

  “Don’t what me. I can practically hear you holding back more questions. Have at it.”

  “Fine,” I say, rolling over and propping up on his chest.

  He’s just wearing his suit pants now, his muscled body gleaming in the mood lighting,

  “Where are your parents? Are they…”

  He nods matter of factly, with neither coldness nor too much emotion. It’s the nod of a man who is accustomed to dealing with the darker parts of life, and able to protect me and our children from them.

  “My mother died in childbirth,” he says. “My father raised me alone. He raised me in this life. He didn’t trust anybody apart from family, and I was his only family. We worked together for a f
ew years, but then he became ill.”

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur, thinking about mom, my chest getting so tight it’s like it’s squeezing my heart.

  “It was over a decade ago,” he says with a shrug. “But…”

  “But what?” I urge, staring into the cool blueness of his eyes to detect the fire of emotion beneath.

  “I don’t want to raise our children the way he raised me,” he says passionately. “I respected him, but I don’t want that. Our children, Rosie, will grow up like regular, happy kids. We’ll let them pursue anything they want, whatever they’re passionate about. We’ll support them. We won’t turn them into monsters.”

  “Hey,” I say softly, moving my hand up to his chest, between his tight pecs, to his chin. “You’re not a monster.”

  “There are a few people who’d disagree with you,” he says. “I’m a killer.”

  “Unless you lied to me…”

  “I didn’t. I never would,” he growls.

  “Then those men deserved to die,” I cry. “Do you know how much evil stuff I witnessed growing up in bad neighborhoods? It’s ridiculous. Men beating their wives, selling drugs to kids, getting away with it because nobody wants to talk to the cops. I don’t judge you.”

  I love you, a voice cries inside of me, but I pull the fated words back.

  “That means the world to me, Rosie,” he growls. “In this life, a man can second-guess himself. If I’ve got your support, maybe I don’t have to do that as much.”

  “You have,” I say. “You always will.”

  “Good,” he smirks. “Because I’m having you either way. Now tell me more about this publishing idea.”

  “What do you want to know?” I ask.

  “Details. Budgets. Plans.”

  I giggle. “I have all of that in PDF files. Can I just email them to you?”

  “Goddamn, Rosie,” he says. “That’s impressive. Yes, email them to me and we’ll get that started.”

  “But Ryland,” I sigh, turning my gaze down.

  I don’t want to ruin this moment, but there is the reality to think of, and all the problems it brings.

  In here, in Ryland’s protective arms, it’s easy to forget the outside world even exists.

  “What?” he urges

  “I’m supposed to be dead,” I say. “As far as Vito and his whole family are concerned, my Mom and I are gone. I can’t start a publishing project. I can’t even leave this estate. I have to lie low for the rest of my life.”

 

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