Hitman - the Series: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Collection (Alexis Abbott's Hitmen #0)

by Alexis Abbott

  He smiles in return, and for several moments, we sit in a calm sort of silence. It’s not long before I can’t tame my nagging thoughts, though.

  “What’s going to happen to Maggie?” I ask sadly, pulling my legs up into the seat and getting more comfortable. Max does his best to keep his expression neutral, but I can see the flicker of worry across his face.

  “Nothing, provided I get to her soon enough. And I promise you I will. If what you heard them say is true and she’s already been sold, then she’s been moved to another facility to await the trade-off with her buyer. I won’t lie to you, Liv, if they’ve taken her to that last stop… her current conditions may not be good,” he relates to me, more openly than I expected.

  “What do you mean? What will they do to her there?” I breathe, suddenly feeling terribly cold and depressed. I had hoped things would be better for her, not worse.

  “Keep in mind that we do not know for sure if that’s where they’ve taken her. It has been a long, long time since I ran with that pack of wolves. Their methods may have changed,” Max says, clearly reluctant to share details. But I need to know, even if it hurts.

  “Tell me what you know. Please,” I beg him, folding both my hands over his. He looks over at me and sighs. I can tell he wants to lie to protect me, and there’s a battle behind his beautiful eyes, but the truth wins out.

  “Before a girl is handed off to her new master, she is taken to a place where she is kept separately from the others. Some of the brutes call it ‘finishing school.’ It is where she must be broken in, polished off and prepared for her new life,” he explains darkly.

  “Broken in… how?” I press.

  “The methods vary. Sometimes they starve her, refuse to let her sleep. This weakens her and makes her more pliant for the master, who is almost always looking for a malleable, soft girl who will do as she’s told. And if she retains any hint of spirit, any iskra, they will do whatever they deem necessary to break her. It is terrible, especially if the girl fights back,” Max describes, his voice heavy. I can tell it hurts him deeply to discuss this.

  “Well, then maybe it is better that Maggie is already so quiet and obedient,” I assure the both us. “Besides, she’s a smart girl. I’m sure she’ll figure out their game and do whatever she has to do to survive.”

  What I don’t say, what I’m really thinking, is that it will be unnecessary to try and break her because she’s already broken. She was inconsolable when we were trapped in that cell together, already falling apart beyond repair. Maggie was too afraid to even utter a coherent word, much less defy anything they asked of her.

  “She will be alright,” Max says assuredly. “I’m sure of it.”

  “Yeah,” I say to myself softly, my eyes feeling heavy. I am exhausted, and before long I manage to drift off to a fitful sleep.

  When I wake, I’m being carried over the threshold into a little white Tudor-style cottage with brown trim and shutters. As my vision clears I realize that the sun is setting, and that we’re in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by dense green forest. This looks like a picturesque fairy-tale illustration, like we stepped right out of reality and into a children’s book. But it’s real — from the Spartan furnishings to the unmistakable, ominous call of an owl somewhere in the woods.

  It’s terribly quiet here except for the sounds of birds and the trees bowing in the wind. There can’t be another soul out here for miles. Just the two of us. Alone.

  Max takes me into a tiny bedroom and lays me down softly on the small wooden bed. The sheets are clean, to my surprise, and I wonder who Max has been paying to come all the way out here to maintain this place. I’m sure some lucky maid is making a fortune from it.

  Thinking I’m still asleep, Max heads back out into the main room to make a few calls. He speaks in hushed tones, one call in French, another in Russian. I can’t make out a word of what’s being said, only that the news he receives can’t be good. He groans in frustration and I hear him lean against a wall heavily, defeated. I can’t keep up my charade any longer. I have to go to him.

  I slide off the bed, careful not to mess up the crisp white sheets, and walk into the other room cautiously. Max is standing with his eyes closed and his arms folded over his chest. He looks like a tragic hero, a romantic prince thwarted by the villain one too many times. I want nothing more than to rush to him and melt into his arms, reassure him. There’s something about this place, so far from the bustling Parisian streets, like another world altogether. One inhabited by only two: Max and me.

  “What happened?” I ask timidly. Max’s eyes flutter open and he looks over at me.

  “My connections are tied at the moment. We have to wait for more information before we move on. We’ll have to stay here for at least the night,” he admits grimly.

  I’m a little disappointed, but I know that we won’t save Maggie by rushing anything. We need to be cautious, even more so now, and I nod at him gently.

  “It’s okay. We’ll take the time to do things right.”

  He runs a large hand back through his dark hair and sighs. “It isn’t fair to you, Liv. I will stand guard tonight while you sleep.”

  “No, that’s silly,” I disagree, shaking my head. “You need to rest, too.”

  “I promise I will get some rest in here. On the floor.”

  “Why would you do that? There’s a perfectly good bed in there,” I tell him, confused as to why he’s acting so cagey all of a sudden.

  “That’s where you will sleep,” he replies.

  “Right. And you, too.”

  Max stares at me, his expression conflicted. “We can’t do that again, Liv,” he says softly.

  I take a step closer, frowning. “Why not?”

  “As I said, it isn’t fair. It isn’t right.”

  “I’m not complaining,” I tell him firmly. “Unless you… unless you just don’t want to.”

  He looks physically pained by the assumption. “No,” he responds quickly.

  “Then why not, Max? We’ve shared a bed already. I’ve seen you — all of you. It doesn’t matter anymore how we got here.” My words aren’t planned, they just tumble out, raw and unfinished, the unbridled truth. His blazing eyes search my face desperately, though I don’t know what he’s looking for. He turns to face me, reaching out hesitantly to take my hands.

  “Why aren’t you afraid of me?” he murmurs, almost more to himself than to me.

  I cock my head to the side. “Because I know you. Felix told me everything, Max. I have no reason to fear you.”

  Max moves closer, the internal struggle evident on his face. “It was much easier for me when you did,” he whispers.

  “Too late now,” I reply quietly, tilting my face upward as our lips meet in an inevitable, questioning kiss. His lips are so soft and sensuous against mine, cautious at first. And then his hands move to pull me closer and I gasp into his mouth as he kisses me more passionately. My whole body tingles with pent-up desire. I have known from the first moment his skin touched mine that this would happen. I knew we would end up here. It was only a matter of time.

  We were always walking down this path. I just never saw it until now.

  His one hand wraps itself in my hair, tugging gently, while the other slides down to cup my ass. I can feel his cock straining through his trousers, hard against my thigh. His arms wrap around me and in one shared, fluid movement, he supports me as I hoist myself up into his embrace, my legs folding around his waist. His lips trail down my jaw to nip at my neck, making me gasp and moan in pleasure. I’ve never been touched like this before — never even been kissed except for that one unnatural, unwanted kiss from Will.

  But this… I want this more than anything, without a hint of doubt.

  Being so close, his scent teases my nose, a rugged cologne that brings out his masculinity. I’ve never been so aware of how someone smells, how they touch, and certainly never how they tasted. His tongue presses in against mine and a thrill goes down my spine a
s my mouth opens to let him explore.

  My eyes close, and for a moment, it’s like the entire world stands still. All the tension of the day drains away as I’m held by him, as his mouth moves from mine down to my neck, and back again. He’s ravenous for me, his body intent on exploring mine. It’s a thrill I’ve never known, and my hips slowly start grinding against his waist, needy for more.

  Max carries me easily into the bedroom and presses me down into the bed, crawling over me and kneeling to take off his jacket and shirt, revealing his strong, broad chest and muscular arms. I look again over his scarred chest, over all the marks of his storied past, and this time I don’t recoil. This time I just accept them, like I accept him. My fingertips go to the burn mark, lightly touching it, as if in apology for all the pain it has caused him. It was a symbol of who he was, and now it’s gone, but never forgotten.

  He bends down to kiss me again, his fingers trailing down to tug my leggings down, tossing them aside, then doing the same with my flowy tank top. I feel so vulnerable, but at the same time... that feels good. Because I can trust him. The way he looks at me, over my partially nude body, makes my breathing hitch in my throat. I wonder what he’s thinking about when he’s looking at me.

  I don’t have to wonder long, though, because quickly his mouth drops to my collarbones, and he’s licking and suckling my skin, his hands working up and down my legs.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice huskier with passion. “From the first moment I saw you, I knew I’d have to watch myself with you.”

  His words send a jolt through my nerves, and he lifts me up against him, grazing his teeth along the hollow behind my ear as he unhooks my bra and drops it over the side of the bed. Gently laying me back down, he hovers over me a moment, his enigmatic green eyes surveying my bare breasts. I always feared that I would feel uncertain in this moment, but instead I just feel liberated.

  I feel wanted.

  “I tried to resist you,” he says, his fingers running over my flesh, along my rib cage, exploring me with his fingertips. “I know I should, even now. But I’ve never felt like this for a woman, and I don’t know if I’ll ever have this chance again.”

  His honesty startles me, and I have to bite my lip just to keep from gasping. I had no idea I meant that much to him. I had no idea I could mean that much to anyone. My fingers go to his dark, tousled hair, and they run through it, guiding his mouth back to mine.

  “I want you to be my first, Max,” I say, and that makes him pause. That battle again goes on behind his eyes, the knowledge that we shouldn’t be doing this. I’m his student, someone he’s supposed to be looking out for, but I think he’s done that better for me than anyone ever could.

  And I know our connection, what we feel, won’t go away. Our attraction was always meant to bubble over like this, and I don’t want to fight it.

  “Don’t fight it,” I say, and my mouth meets his once more. I’ve never learned how to kiss, but my tongue probes his lightly, like he’d done to mine, and within a few seconds, I feel him press back in before pulling back.

  “I won’t take advantage of you, after all you’ve been through,” he says, and for a second I think that means he’s going to leave, but instead his mouth encompasses my left breast, taking my nipple in between his teeth. The little spark of pain makes me moan.

  “Ah, that feels good,” I whimper, and he bites down a little bit harder, holding the pressure there until I’m squirming beneath him, my entire body feeling like it’s filled with electricity.

  Max’s other hand cups my right breast, his thumbs sliding over my sensitive nipples so that I inhale sharply, my eyes rolling back in my head. I never knew I could feel this good, this blissful. But when he pinches the other nipple, I can’t help but gyrate my hips a little with excitement.

  “Oh god, Max,” I whimper, and his green eyes look up at me, and seeing him there, sucking on my breast is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen in my life. He lets my breast fall from his mouth as he grins at me, as if he’s just figured me out.

  “You like a little bit of pain, malyutka?” he asks, and it sends another shiver down my spine. I don’t answer, and his fingers reach down between my legs, feeling out the source of my heat. “You do like it,” he confirms, rubbing me gently, with only my panties separating us.

  My body certainly does, and I try not to think about what that says about me. As he rubs me, he kisses my neck, my collarbone, my exposed breasts, with every touch feeling so new and different. Some are rougher, and then gentler, and the contrast is driving me mad.

  He lets go of my nipple, all stiff and tingling with sensation, and lets his other hand roam down my body, feeling out along my hip.

  “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, Olivia,” he says, his fingers grazing over my athletic body. I’ve always been a bit self-conscious about my looks, but there’s such earnestness in his voice that I can’t dare question him.

  His fingers pull away from my pussy, and for a second, I think he’s going to leave me. Instead, his fingers work into the waistband of my panties, tugging them down so slowly I think I’m going to die. No one has ever seen me like this, and the way he’s unveiling me, like a Christmas present, is at once scary and mind numbingly hot.

  I watch as he does, as he inhales the scent of my pussy, and the rumble in his chest as he does so.

  “Like a sweet peach,” he says before grinning up at me. “I’m going to take a taste.”

  Before I can say another word, his face is buried between my thighs, and the most sensational pleasure ever is shooting through me. I can’t help but cry out, and it’s so intense, I try to squirm away. His large hands, though, clasp down on my thighs, and with his brute strength, he holds me still and makes me feel the explosive pleasure that I’ve never known.

  “Oh god,” I whimper, my fingers tangling in his hair.

  It’s so intense, especially as he slowly slides one finger inside of me, my pussy clenching tightly around it. I’ve never had anyone inside of me before, in any way. Max drags his tongue in a tantalizing circle around my tight little bundle of nerves while his finger slides in and out, stroking against a part of me I never knew existed.

  It brings a perfect silence to my mind, and everything else drifts away, leaving me to fully experience him and his body as it presses against mine. When I twitch and flinch away he firmly holds me in place, his eyes meeting with mine.

  It’s unlike any other sight in the world. This big, strong Russian man between my slender thighs, his mouth moving over my most private of parts. It looks so sexy that I can’t hold back anymore, and the flood dams open, and I yelp — my first ever orgasm crashes over my body.

  “Khoroshaya devochka,” Max mumbles, his voice thick with need.

  He’s slow to move away, though, making sure every jolt of pleasure has passed through me before he finally sits up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looks down on me. There’s a fire behind his eyes, and excitement that wasn’t there before, as if he’s just now come alive. I like it, and more than that, I like the fact that I made him look so blissful with just my own pleasure.

  His large hands drop to the front of his trousers, his hand hanging there for a second as he studies my face. I’m not sure what he’s looking for, but he seems to have found it in my post-orgasm expression, because his fingers then work his way out of his pants, letting his massive cock spring free.

  I can’t help but stare once more, and this time there’s no shame of spying on him when I wasn’t invited. This time, I can truly appreciate him in his full maleness. It’s so much bigger than when he was in the shower, and it stands erect, bouncing every few moments as his eyes study my body.

  “I’ll go gentle for your first time,” he says, and I nod as I reach out to touch him. It’s so curious, so heated and hard, yet his skin is so soft and ribbed with pulsing veins. His cock jumps at my touch, and I recoil my hand, looking up at him.

  He laughs
, not cruelly, and reaches out for my hand once more, guiding it back to him. He wraps my fingers around him, and he must see that being taught what to do eases my tensions, because he begins teaching me how to stroke him.

  Our eyes meet as our hands move up and down his cock, and I can’t help but give him a small, excited smile.

  “Get on your back again,” he says, and I obey, laying my head back on the pillows. “Spread your legs.”

  Again, I obey, and this pleases him. He looks down on my wet, spread pussy, and it sends an illicit thrill through my body.

  “You have the prettiest little pussy,” he says, his voice heavy with lust, and he reaches down, drawing some of my juices up to my clit again. “There’s no going back from this. If you give this to me, we’ll forever be bonded,” he says, and I love the way he says that.

  And I love the idea that we’ll always have a link to one another, something far happier and more fulfilling than him saving me from slavers. This is something I want, something I’m choosing.

  Something I can give him that he desires.

  He grabs hold of his cock as he leans over me, holding himself up on his right arm as he looks me in the eyes. And that’s when I feel it. The head of his cock touches against my virginal opening, and I gasp. He pauses, and I wonder if he’s concerned that I’ve changed my mind. I wrap my arms around his neck, though, and that assuages him enough to begin to sink his full, powerful length within me.

  It feels like so long, yet so short of a time before he’s rested into my depths. I was always warned it would hurt, but it’s just a dull ache, a strange sensation that’s not altogether unpleasant, and when he stills, it quickly fades into a distant memory.

  He groans before his mouth finds mine, my scent still on his lips, filling my nostrils with its strange sweetness. My tongue lashes against his, and with that he pulls back, letting his hips fall back to mine once more, filling me over and over again.