Three Hitmen: A Triple Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Lawless Book 2)

by Alice May Ball

  “He instructed me,” She took a gulp of brandy, “‘Tell me your symptoms.’ He said.”

  “So I told him ‘I’m hot, Doctor Masterson. So very hot. I’m trembling.’ He surely could hear it in my voice. ‘And my heart,’ I looked into his told him, “My heart is pounding like a big bass drum.”

  “I peered up into his watery blue eyes and he fixed me with them like tractor beams. My tongue pressed between my lips and my hips tilted forward. He reached out and lifted my chin. His big hands were warm and strong. He smelled clean, really clean. He lifted my head back and his hands pressed around my throat.

  “Heat pounded in my panties. I was sure he must be able to detect it. I peered up into his eyes. He gave nothing away. He said, ‘Can you stand, please?’

  “I stood. In front of him. So close that the heat of his body warmed my soft breasts. My eyes hardly came level with his chest. His strong, wide hips were in front of my blouse.

  “He said, ‘I shall have to examine you,’ and I said, “Please do. Be thorough. Be firm.’

  “He put his hands on my shoulders as he looked down at me. ‘I’m going to ask you to open your blouse.’ I smiled as I drew myself taller. My head cocked on one side as I waited. His brow furrowed.

  “His eyes narrowed and his voice tightened. He sounded impatient as he said, ‘Will you undo your blouse, Mrs. Chatterton,’ Oh, yes. That would definitely work. I peered up shyly as I undid the buttons of my cream silk blouse, one by one.

  “My big girls heaved and I shivered as they came out into the cool and the light. My scooped, lacy bra presented my eager flesh to him. My lips pressed together as I peeked up at him.

  “He bit his lip. ‘I do need to examine you, Ms Beaton. I want to ask you to lie on the couch.’ I looked up at him. My eyebrow raised. He frowned. ‘Would you lie on the couch, please, Mrs. Chatterton?’

  “‘It would be better,’ I purred, ‘If you told me.’

  “His nostrils widened as he took a deep breath in. Then he was stern as he said, ‘Lie on the couch.’

  “That worked. My stomach quivered as I lay down in front of Doctor Masterson. My open blouse fell away on either aside. I was definitely feeling a little better now, but this was a moment of truth. It isn’t every man who will properly appreciate a woman with a fuller figure.

  “I judged Doctor Masterson to be a man who did. The front of his elegantly tailored pants told me so. The hard, tightening bulge, to be exact, in the front of his divinely tailored pants.

  “My breath fluttered as I lay back.

  “He laid his cool hands on my stomach. His eyes danced. He opened his bag and he took out a stethoscope. I asked him, ‘Do people still use those, Doctor Masterson?’

  “He said, ‘I’m a believer in the old ways. Especially when they work.’

  “He put in the earpieces and laid the cold end on my stomach. ‘Your pulse is very strong,’ he said. My heart thundered. He moved the scope onto my breast and a long moan ripped out of my throat.

  “He frowned and asked me, ‘Does that hurt?’

  “I told him that it didn’t. ‘Not in a bad way.’

  “As he listened to my chest, my breasts rose and fell heavily with my breath. My neck and my chest flushed hot. As he listened to my chest, his face was near. My tongue moistened my parched lips. They tensed in an ‘O’ as I watched him.

  “‘Could I ask you to lie on your front, please.’ I looked in his eyes.

  “‘Better if you tell me.’ I said.

  “Our eyes locked for a moment and he bit his lip.

  “His voice was firm and he said, ‘Turn over.’

  “I sighed. The tip of my tongue pressed around the edge of my lips.

  ‘Turn over now,’ his eyes flashed as he said it. I bit the side of my lip and I watched his face as I turned over. His face and his pants. They were getting tighter. His bulge was swelling.

  Leaning on my elbows, I looked back over my shoulder as he lifted the back of my blouse. When he put the cold end of the stethoscope onto my back, I wriggled.

  ‘Keep still,’ he said. I wriggled again. I couldn’t help it.

  “He placed his hands firmly on my back. Then he slid them down.

  “My ass lifted. He said, ‘Now, Mrs. Chatterton.’

  “I said, ‘Now, Doctor Masterson?’ and I lifted my skirt. Only a little. Just enough for him to see the tops of my sheer stockings. And a glimpse of my creamy thighs.

  “He straightened up. ‘I don’t think there’s anything at all wrong with you, Ms Beaton.’

  “I told him, “You can’t possibly be sure of that,” and I looked up at him with my best fluttering little-girl eyes, ‘There’s so much of me that you haven’t examined, Doctor Masterson.’

  “He said, ‘There’s no point in our continuing this, Ms Beaton.” And he was quite stiff about it.

  “I turned quickly to sit in front of him, ‘Imagine if you’d missed something.’ I said, ‘It could be a malpractice or something, couldn’t it? If there was something serious and you missed it?’ I watched as he wet his lips. ‘Simply because you hadn’t examined me properly?’

  “As I straightened my open blouse, my breasts billowed forwards. ‘Imagine, Doctor Masterson. All of the things you could be missing.’ And then he hesitated.”

  “‘Come on, Doctor.’ I said, ‘Be thorough.’ He moistened his lips. ‘Be exhaustive.’ I told him. ‘Be rigorous.’ He shook his head.

  “‘Alright.’ He said, and he took my chin in his hand again. This time he pulled my mouth open. He put a spatula on my tongue. He looked down, craned to see into my throat. ‘Open wide,’ he said. Obediently I parted my thighs.

  “‘Your mouth,’ he said, tersely. And I said, ‘Oh, Doctor!’ I opened my mouth wide and I reached up to put my hands on his hips.

  “‘Stop that!’ he said firmly. But it was too late. I had felt the heat of his throbbing bulge. And he had felt the tender determination of my eager fingers. My hands stayed right where they were.

  I pouted and said, ‘Make up your mind.’

  “‘That… that wasn’t what I meant at all,’ his face was coloring up, ‘And I’m sure you know it wasn’t.’

  “I said, ‘I’m not so sure that is what I know, doctor,” my eyes were on the soft fabric of his pants. My fingers smoothed the front. Pressed gently on either side of his hard swelling bulge. ‘It isn’t what your pants say. Something in here means business.’

  “I pressed more firmly. My hands relished the hard tops of his sinuous thighs. The small ridges of bone above them. The little clefts by the sides of his pelvis.

  I was about to slide my fingers around to scope the curve of his tight ass. ‘Stop it, Ms Beaton. It’s unethical what you’re doing.’

  “‘Only if it’s you who was doing it to me, Not if it’s me doing it to you.’ I looked up at him with an innocent smile, ‘You should hear the Single Ladies’ Ethics Committee on the topic.’

  “I peered up over his flat stomach, along the shimmering burgundy ribbon of his tie and over the steep mounds of his chest, into his glistening blue eyes. I rubbed up and down on his hips. Either side of the swelling ridge.

  ““Our ethical bounds,’ I blew again, ‘are pretty relaxed, Doctor Masterson,’ I licked my lip as my hands slid slowly closer together. ‘We err on the side of liberty.’

  “Now my index fingers felt it. The tremor shook through me. It was so huge. And so hot. And so hard. My left index finger slipped inside the fly. I dragged my nail up the zip.

  “My soft breasts shaped around his hard thighs. I inhaled slowly and drank in his dark scent. My head tilted back.

  “His hands came to grab the sides of my head. He wanted to pull me away. I blew hot breath on his fine prominence. It twitched. My eyes widened. My nail scraped down his zipper. It made a brrrrr.

  “It must also have felt like his zipper was coming undone. His fingers trembled in my hair. My nail buzzed back up his zipper.

  “‘Really, Ms Beaton,’ hi
s voice was thick and slow, ‘This must stop.’

  “My nail bzzzzed back down his zipper. His fingers clawed in my hair. This time, my fingers brought the zip down with them. There was an opening all the way down the length of his fly. Soft, white cotton was visible. It was under some strain from behind.

  “I blew again, this time on the white cotton. So that he felt the change. He shook. The tips of my teeth ran down the cotton. It was hot. Then back up. And down again. This time, the cotton got tugged down, too.

  “At the bottom of the opening, I blew. Then I stood, crouching forwards. My warm breasts pressed either side of his hips, nestling his hot ridge in the soft valley.

  “Quietly I said, ‘You haven’t stopped me, Doc.’ I spoke into the crisp linen of his immaculate white shirt. My hot breath softly fanned his stomach. I pressed a little closer.

  He said, ‘No, but…’

  “My breasts spilled and nuzzled around his strong legs. Thrills ran through me as I felt his powerful muscles clench. I felt him through my breasts. My nipples hardened and stung inside my black bra.

  “He quivered. I turned and bent forwards. His firm, knotted thighs felt wonderful against my soft, round ass. I slid up and down some.

  “‘Have I been bad, Doctor Masterson?’ I peered back over my shoulder and up to the massed creases of confusion and distress that folded his poor, pretty face. I Lifted my skirt.

  “Now when I pressed back, he could see the bare flesh of my pale thighs against his immaculate creases and pleats. He could feel them, too. The heat of his cock told me so.

  “‘Should I be spanked, Doctor Masterson?’

  “‘Ms Beaton, I…’

  “‘Before you decide, doctor, you should run your hands over the warm silk of my black panties. Slide your fingers around my big, soft curves.’ His hands trembled towards me. ‘See if you don’t want to redden my buttocks up.’

  “‘No. This really is…’

  “‘There’s some kind of a test, isn’t there, doc? Where you see how fast blood comes to the skin?’

  “Yes, but it’s…”

  “‘Test me, doc.’

  “‘But I…’

  “‘Test me hard.’ I groaned

  “Still he hesitated.

  “‘DO it!’ I told him, ‘Stroke it first. Run your hands over me.’ Finally, the skin of his unsure palms rested on the silk of my undies. ‘Mmm. Oh, yes, that’s it, doc. Get a feel.’ He was warming to the task, ‘Then whup it.’

  I pressed back into him, hard enough so I could feel his cock against my cheeks. The flat of his hand struck my buttock. It made a pleasant enough sting. I was becoming very wet now.

  “‘No good, doc. Try harder. Much harder.’

  “He did. Now we were getting somewhere.

  “‘Still too soft. C’mon, doc, show me what you’re made of.’

  “He grunted as he slapped me again. His strokes got harder and he grew more bold with every whack.

  “‘Hit it!’ I egged him on. His hand heated up and my ass glowed red. I shouted, ‘Yes, doctor. YES!’ I could smell my own heat.

  “Against my rippling buttocks, I felt his cotton briefs push out through the gash of his open fly. His hard rod was hot behind the soft cotton.

  “Between slaps, his hand rested longer on my cheek. Stroked the sheen of my panties. It began to explore. The tips of his fingers traced the crease between the wobbling bottom of my cheek and the soft top of my thigh.

  “Then he ventured sideways. Tentatively he found the cleavage between my buttocks. Then the space between my thighs.

  “He groaned as I spun back around. I shoved him back a step and flung myself to my knees in front of him. My wet, red lips found the cotton of his briefs and rubbed up and down the growing length of him. With my teeth, I nipped the front of the shorts and dragged them slowly, laboriously downward.

  “He emerged from the falling waistband thick, proud and pulsing hot. I took a hold of the base of his cock and levered the weight of it down to slap on my spread, waiting tongue.

  “His hands seized my hair. ‘Ah!’ I said, and I stood. I pulled his tie. ‘You had your chance, Doctor Masterson.’ I pulled his face down to me. His eyebrows arched. My eyes widened as his thick red lips came near. Quietly I told him, ‘We’re on my schedule now.’

  “I tasted his lips and his hands found my soft breasts as our mouths locked together. I sighed into him and we kissed deep, long and hard. My back arced as he squeezed my breasts.

  “I wrapped myself tight around his hard torso. His heart beat against my breast. His breath burned into me.

  “His groan rose to a growl as I continued to pull on his tie. I forced him down. Down on to his knees. Slowly I lifted my skirt with one hand. With the other, I ran my fingers through his lush, thick hair.

  “His eyes grew wide and shone as my skirt lifted. The creamy flesh of my thighs was gradually exposed above the sheen of my stocking tops. Then my tight black silky knickers appeared, wet, hot and heavily perfumed from my yearning need.

  “Doctor Masterman’s nose twitched and his tongue pressed around his parting lips. My mound was encased behind the taut, damp sheen, but my perfume reached him.

  “My swollen petals ached and, in my damp panties, my stalk buzzed in my folds. The doctor’s expertise would surely take my pangs and fill my need. My hips tiled at him. I gripped his hair and pulled his head into my pining delta.

  “Through the wet fabric his lips and his wide, strong tongue found and probed the pulsing petals of my weeping flower. My thighs quivered as they parted for him. My neck lengthened and my head rolled back as his tongue deliciously explored me, as he tasted, teased and took my trembling lips.

  “His fingers snaked around the cool skin of my thighs, slipped and slid around the tight edges of my knickers and felt firmly through the fabric. Wider I parted my legs to open for him. And I stroked his hair, his head, his hard jaw and his strong throat.

  “I pulled him tighter to me and his fingers dragged aside my panties. His hot tongue, soft, mobile, fast and strong, slipped into my gorge. He slid the wet muscle up and down the length of my canyon. He bruised and flattened my swollen lips. He lapped around my gaping portal.

  “My free hand flew up into my hair. My stomach fluttered and palpitated. Mercilessly he slid up to find the base of my twanging stalk. As the point of his tongue flicked around the inside of the hood, I clutched in his hair and my thighs clenched and shook.

  “My eyebrows arched and my lips quivered. Mounting cascades of shuddering sensation splashed and burst through me. My throat rasped in a chain of long, sobbing moans.

  “I held him hard as the waves rose and brimmed to a crest and then spilled hopelessly, all through me, out from my core and all down my legs and arms. It burst in my throat and out of my mouth.

  “His tongue slid up inside me and my thighs clenched and flexed. I pushed down on his face to let him farther in. The tip of his tongue tickled the tender tension just below my inner trigger. I gasped and gushed as he snaked and stretched inside me.

  “I trembled and shook, I called out and moaned. My walls vibrated and clenched. My knees sagged.