The Assassin In 5F

by Nana Malone

  “Yes. As a matter of fact, I am. Just so you get a taste of your own medicine.”

  “I'm not a tease.”

  “Oh, Lyra Wilkinson, you are, in fact, a tease. Every smile, every swish of your hips. All of it. You're a tease. Now, I like it, obviously. But you're attempting to torture me, and I’ve noticed.”

  I giggled, and he continued his kissing, taking nips at my ass. “Jesus Christ, every part of you is so goddamn gorgeous. It's like a smorgasbord and I don't know where to start.”

  His lips traveled over the backs of my thighs and returned to the backs of my knees, making me giggle and catch my breath all in the same stroke of his tongue.

  By the time he flipped me back over, I was all nerves and sensation and desperate need. I tried pressing my thighs together to help quell the sensations, but he stopped me, separating my thighs easily with his big hands. “Now, now. We talked about this. You're not closing off your pussy to me. I want to see it.”

  “Marcus, please. God, please.”

  “I still want to see it.”

  When I thought he was going to settle in for the torture again, he proved me wrong. Instead, he gave me one of those firm presses against my clit, and then kissed his way back up my torso. Kissing my breasts the same way and then settling on my lips. “Hello, darling.”

  I watched his eyes. They were full of heat and something else. Tenderness.

  I could feel the length of him nudge my sex, and I lifted my hips, trying to tempt him. Then he moaned. “I made a rookie mistake. I didn't grab a condom before I started this.”

  I laughed.

  “Stay right here. I'll be right back.”

  When he started to move, I held onto him tight. “No. We don't need it.”

  His brows lifted. “Lyra?”

  I raised my hips, gyrating over his erection, and he hissed. “You're taunting me.”

  “I'm not. We have yearly check-ups, and obviously I haven't been with anyone in a while and it's just been you. And I'm on birth control.”

  He swallowed hard then. “It's just… Are you sure you want that?”

  I encased his beautiful face in my hands, stroking over his stubble and tracing his lips with my thumb. “Yeah. I want everything.”

  His eyes searched mine, looking for uncertainty. But he must have seen the truth. That all I wanted was him.

  He didn't even need to line us up. We were a perfect match.

  He drew his hips back, watching me. And then he notched his hips forward. The smooth tip of his erection entered, stretching me, and I held my breath.

  “Lyra, are you sure?”

  I nodded vehemently and lifted my gaze to meet his. “Yeah. Make me yours for real.”

  When he notched forward even further, I blew out a breath. “Oh, fuck. This feels so good. I haven't… ever… oh God.”

  He drew back slightly, and I complained, trying to claw him back. “Woman, you're trying to kill me. I'm attempting to have some control here.”

  Sweat had popped on his brow. His teeth grazed his bottom lip as he notched forward again, this time, sliding all the way home. The curse on his lips made me want to chuckle. His little, “Fuck me,” said in his British accent and followed by a string of British curses I wasn't sure I understood, made me realize that he was fighting for control too. Just like I was.

  We stayed like that for seconds, minutes, hours, I don't know. And then he started to move, his control back under a tight leash. Rocking. Notching his hips. Faster, faster. Then getting bolder as his hands flipped between us to crush my breasts. And then he put his hand to either side of me and pushed up, bracing himself above me and watching as he made love to me. He whispered murmurs of, “Oh God. You feel so good. You're so beautiful,” were all I needed to hear. Both of us, with our bruised and slightly battered bodies, were ignoring any pain we might have felt and giving in to the sensation.

  I could tell when his control snapped against the leash though. Marcus changed our position and sat up. Notched my legs wider with his hands. Gripping my hips as he brought me to him over and over again. His teeth clenched. The muscle in his jaw was pulsing. Sweat was dripping off his brow, and all I could do was hold on to the headboard and lift my hips when commanded.

  He meant business. And his business was my pleasure, because that orgasm was coming to me whether I was ready for it or not. The way he watched me with intensity, I would never get over that. That subtle claim that this was us, together. I was his, and he was mine. As my toes started to go numb with all the blood rushing to the apex of my thighs, I arched my back, placing my hands flat on the headboard and pushing against him. Taking him even deeper. His growl was feral as he leaned forward and claimed one of my breasts with his mouth, sucking deep. One hand on my ass, the other reaching between us and giving me hard, firm strokes over my clit. I choked out a cry. “Oh my God. Marcus.”

  Around my nipple, he growled, “Let go.”

  And I had no choice, really, with that accent, the low command. Who knew I was down with being bossed around in bed?

  The orgasm slammed into me, making me moan and quiver. There was no getting around it. Marcus Black knew his way around my body. Knew how to get exactly the response he wanted. Knew what I needed. Even as pure bliss pulsed through me and everything from my toes to my fingertips twitched and pulsed, he didn't let up. He just gave me a wicked grin and kept going.

  When I started begging, he slowed. “Oh, my darling wants a break?”

  I nodded. “I can't take anymore.”

  “Oh, I think you can.”

  But still, he pulled out. And I missed him immediately. That stretch, the fullness of him.

  But it seemed Marcus wasn't done with me. He turned me over, grabbed a pillow, and placed it under my hips and lower abdomen, tilting me just so. Then he moved back into place with one smooth stroke, and I shouted, “Oh my God.”

  His chuckle was feral as he leaned over and nipped at the base of my neck. “God, I'm so deep now. Can you feel that?”

  I whimpered. “Yes. Oh my God, please don't stop.”

  And he didn't. The nips continued. And when he pulled back, both hands on my ass, all I could do was press against the headboard again, hoping to keep myself level at some point. But he did all the work. Rotating his hips, slamming forward. Keeping me hovering on the edge. And then he reached under me, lifting my hips again just so. All while pumping. His fingers found my clit. This time, the stroking was gentle. Easy. Lazy almost as he worked his hips. His whisper was low. “Oh, there's my love. Nice and easy for you. How do you like that?”

  “Marcus, it's so good. So, so good.”

  “Good. This should feel good. I have a surprise for you too.” When his thumb grazed over the pucker of my ass, there was no stopping it. The quick flash of electric fire. And then I was coming. Somewhere from the deep depth of my soul, I let out a roar as he gently stroked my pucker. Fingers on my clit as he made love to me. And then I could feel him, almost as if he grew bigger, stretched me wider. And then his words came tumbling out of his mouth. “Bugger. Fuck me. Jesus Christ.”

  Then I could feel him finally letting go. Losing all control as he tumbled over the edge with me.

  Chapter 12

  Lyra

  A thumb rolling over my nipple was what woke me. “Oh my God, again? How are you not tired?”

  Marcus's chuckle was a low rumble. “Have you seen yourself? That's enough to keep me up most nights.”

  I grinned. “Or several times a night.”

  When I'd gone to him last night and asked him to make love to me, he'd wasted no time.

  And I was glad I’d stopped hesitating. He wasn't Tyler. He wouldn't hurt me like that. With Marcus, I wouldn't be left with that shamed, embarrassed feeling, like I'd done wrong somehow. I knew I would miss him, and losing him would break me, most definitely. But until that happened, I would enjoy my time with him at the very least.

  When he kissed into my hair, I moaned again. “Ugh, I need a show
er. And please tell me we've got decent food in the cabinets.”

  “You're in luck. Since Rhodes stocked the place, we should be good. He likes the finer things in life, you know. He’s into caviar and those kinds of things.”

  I wrinkled my nose at the mention of caviar. “I need real food. Eggs. Bacon. Oh my God, tell me there is bacon and stuff for pancakes.”

  He laughed and rolled me over on my back. Between my thighs, I could feel the length of him growing, and I said, “You were serious?”

  He nodded and dipped his head to gently give me a kiss. “Yeah, I was dead serious.”

  And then he lifted his head, met my gaze, and slid in again. “Ahhh.” He groaned, and I moaned. Then I lifted my hips to meet his. This time there was no foreplay, no teasing, just the two of us, fingers intertwined, both trying to race to the finish line. And just when I was there, he tore his lips from mine, dragging them across my cheek and down to my neck as he growled, “God, you're so fucking sexy. I missed you.”

  All I could mutter was, “I missed you too,” followed by, “oh my God, oh my God.” And then his hand reached between us and his thumb gently stroked my clit. He pulled his head back to watch me. With his other big hand, he clamped mine together up over my head, and all I could do was submit to the torture. That sweet, exquisite torture. My hips rose, again and again. “Oh my God, Marcus. Marcus, Jesus.” And then I broke apart around the thick length of him as he held perfectly still.

  “Ah, there's my girl.”

  And then he was pulled out.

  “Where the fuck are you going?”

  His grin and chuckle had me laughing. He rolled me over onto my stomach and then pulled my hips up before tapping my ass with a sharp crack. “Shit,” I gasped. “Marcus.”

  “Oh God, that's pretty.” And then he slammed home. All I could do was bury my head in the pillow and scream as another orgasm ripped through me.

  When one of his thumbs grazed over the pucker of my ass, I stopped breathing. And as he gently pushed, I coughed and then began begging. “Oh God, please. Please, right there. Please more. Please. Please, please. Just please.”

  When his arm tightened around my waist, my back flush up against his chest, his body went stiff as his teeth grazed my shoulder with enough pressure to leave a love bite. He'd marked me. I was his. Forever.

  Not a bad place to be. He eased me gently on the bed before rolling us both to the side with him still inside me. “Oh my God, you're going to kill me,” he gasped.

  “Me? I was just laying here. Minding my business.”

  “Yeah, but then your arse was calling out to me. You see, this is really your arse's fault.”

  I giggled, and my laugh almost drowned out the scream from the other room.

  We both froze. And without even having to say anything, he eased out of me, and we both rolled out of bed. He tossed a T-shirt and a pair of boxers at me as he pulled on the same.

  And then we both grabbed our guns and silencers and tiptoed to the living room. It was still dark outside.

  The clock in the kitchen read four-thirty, which meant dawn was coming soon.

  So who the fuck was there?

  Before I knew what was happening, there were agents rushing inside the safe house. Too many of them.

  And without having to exchange any words, Marcus and I put our backs to each other, and faced the assailants.

  It was all happening in slow motion, like in a movie.

  They clearly wanted it quiet because the assassins they'd sent had knives instead of guns. Knives were messy and bloody. But we were in a little house out in the suburbs. No one might come looking for us for days until the house manager came back to clean.

  A guy, just a little taller than me, came toward me with a knife between his index and middle finger.

  He said nothing, but he came at me quick. I popped off two rounds and turned to get the one by the door too. He managed to release one of his knives though, and I shoved Marcus just out of the way as it whizzed by his chest.

  He gasped. “Jesus, fuck.”

  We didn't have time to talk though. The next assailant came at me. I fired and missed as he cut a slice with the knife down the outer part of my arm. When I hissed, Marcus shouted over his shoulder, “You good?”

  “Yep, let me kill this guy real quick.”

  The second shot didn't miss, but I was cognizant of how many bullets I had left.

  The next guy wasn't a guy at all but a woman. Slight stature, slightly shorter than me, but Jesus Christ, she was fast. She moved her body like a tiny demon. We fought then. Hand to hand. Every block I tried, she knew it better. Every angle I turned, she delivered kicks.

  I was too busy covering my own ass to even worry about Marcus. All I heard were oofs and aahs and grunts, but I had to trust he was okay because if I took my eye off the ball, that slice down the arm would be the least of my worries. Even though it hurt like a son of a bitch.

  As she aimed a punch for my face, I was able to slide and deflect it with my left arm, hooking her right wrist with my hand, locking my hand around it, then tucking my left arm up under her. Using her momentum against her, I flipped her over and slammed her down onto her back. Still controlling her arm, I delivered a series of left jabs to her face. She tried to fight back, but then I planted a knee on her arm and continued to deliver blows until she stopped moving.

  I picked my gun up off the floor when I saw an assailant heading for Marcus's back.

  I shot him. And then I noticed another shadow coming in the window, but instead of going for me or Marcus, it went for one of the two assailants Marcus was fighting with.

  I wanted to shoot one of them, but I couldn't be sure I wasn't going to hit Marcus.

  Even as I rose, one of the other guys Marcus had taken down was crawling across the floor, trying to reach for a gun. I aimed my gun at him, but all I heard was a click, click. Out of bullets. Goddamn it.

  I was forced to launch myself and roll with him, wrestling for control of the gun.

  When he rolled on top of me, his arms were strong enough to wrap around my neck, and my vision started to go gray.

  Fuck. Not a good look. Rookie move. Absolutely the worst position for a woman to be in. Forcing my brain to quiet, I tried to remember my training, letting my muscles do what they wanted. What they’d been trained to do.

  I made my hands into C’s, then in one swift motion, brought them down with all the force I could muster along the edge of his thumbs, forcing his hands off my neck. Then, dragging in a gulp of air, I did what was the hardest/simplest part, brought my elbows to my knees.

  That momentum sent him flying over my head and landing on his back. Then I took control of his arm, wrapped my leg over his head, and arm-barred him. Just leaning my body back, and praying that I was strong enough, had a good enough hold to render him lifeless. Finally, he stopped moving, dropped the gun, and then I rolled, picked it up, turned, and shot.

  When I turned back to the fray, that's when I saw little red dots.

  “Marcus, down!”

  He didn't even flinch. He followed my direction immediately. The snipers took out the guy he was fighting and the one who was fighting the secondary man who had entered through the window. That left one assailant still standing. With the gun I had in my palm, I aimed, fired, and he went down.

  Marcus's voice was loud but stern. “Okay?”

  “Yep, I'm fine. Just bleeding from the arm, but other than that, I’m good.”

  Then groaning came from one of the bodies on the floor. The guy who had been helping Marcus. We both crawled over to him and peeled off his mask. I was surprised to find a familiar face. “Tyler? What the fuck?”

  He gasped. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

  “Start talking.”

  Marcus rolled him over slightly to check his injury. “He’s hit. Chest wound. I don't have what it takes to fix that.”

  Tyler thrashed on the ground. “I'm done. I won’t make it.”

  “Tyler,
what the fuck is going on?”

  Tyler grabbed for me and I took his hand. “You need to be careful… Roz.”

  I frowned at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Roz… She did this.”

  “No, there's no way. She loves me.”

  He pulled me closer. His voice was weaker, but still carried the deep timbre I was more than familiar with. “I loved you, too. I did.” A cold shiver ran through me, and I tried to pull away, but he held on tight. “She told me… She made me dump you.”

  My brow furrowed, and I shook my head. “No, she wouldn't. She loves me. She's my mentor. She trained me.”

  “Roz… your father… affair. He chose your mother.”

  The words he was saying were bouncing off me like my body and brain had formed a shield around me for protection. “No, I-I don't understand.”

  “You saw something you shouldn't have. She sent Prochenko to kill you. She called me in to make sure. She thinks I work for her… but… been protecting you.” He jerkily reached for his pocket and pulled out a flash drive. “Proof is here.”

  I stared down at it. “What? No, Tyler… I don’t understand. What do you know about my father?” But he wasn't moving anymore, and his hand fell from mine, no longer holding tight.

  Marcus was pulling me away from Tyler. When did he get a bag? “What? When did you pack that?”

  “I always have a go-bag. Come on, we need to get out of here.”

  But I held on to Tyler. “No, wake up, Tyler. Please tell me everything.”

  Marcus wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me from the floor. And then he was shoving shoes onto my feet. “We have to go right now.”

  I had no choice. I had to leave Tyler there, bleeding out on the floor. He was already gone.

  * * *

  Lyra

  After what had happened to Tyler, Marcus thought it was safest to hide in plain sight.

  The Four Seasons was the best place to be for a meetup.