Last Breath – Hitman Read Online Jen Frederick

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Mafia, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
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His eyes gleam as he watches me lean in. His hand goes to my hair, stroking it back from my face. “This is the perfect angle for me to watch you suck me.”

Even though we talk dirty in bed to each other all the time, with those words, my mind flashes to the brothel. The gun pushed to my forehead. I close my eyes and swallow hard. Those memories aren’t gone. I don’t know if they’ll ever be gone.

But then Daniel’s hand is caressing my cheek, the touch loving. “God, you’re beautiful.”

And just like that, I’m okay again. I open my eyes and it’s Daniel’s handsome face I see before me, Daniel’s skin warm underneath my hands. And when I lean down to drag my tongue over the crown of his cock, it’s Daniel’s taste on my tongue.

I can make new memories, starting now. I lick the head with a quick swipe and look up at him when his hand fists in my hair. “You trying to distract me, baby boy?”

“Fuck no,” he rasps. He lifts his hands in the air as if to show me that he won’t touch. “That’s the last thing I want.”

I take the head in my mouth again and giggle, and I feel him shudder as the vibrations from my laughter move against his skin. My hand grips the thick base of his cock, and I tease and stroke the head with my tongue while my other hand toys with his sac.

I’m pleased when his head falls back on the couch, his entire body tense, and his cock seems to visibly swell in my hands. He’s extremely hard, the head leaking pre-come faster than I can lick it up. He loves this, and I love doing it to him. I love the pleasure on his face.

“I want to put my hands all over you right now,” Daniel says as I lean in and suck his length into my mouth, careful of my teeth. “Just drag those pretty tits out of your shirt and play with them while you suck my cock.”

He’s not touching me, though. He’s just lying back and watching me work on him. Maybe he realizes that if he grabs me, it’d be too much for me to handle with memories pushing at the back of my mind. This makes me love him all the more, and I show my love by taking him deep and sucking so hard that my cheeks hollow.

His groan of pleasure is delicious to hear, and it makes me redouble my efforts. I practice all the skills that I know, working him with my mouth and now both hands at the base of his cock, pumping him in time with my motions.

“Christ, you’re good at that,” he rasps when his cock prods at the back of my throat again and I loosen my jaw so my gag reflex doesn’t kick in.

I don’t respond—my mouth is full. My mouth is full, and my senses are full of Daniel: his salty taste, the feel of his warm skin, the tickle of his groin hairs on my hands as I work him, the pleasure on his face with every pump of my mouth. There’s nothing but pleasure here for me.

I’m disappointed when he grabs me and tosses me down on the futon.

Well, almost.

But when he plunges into me, I give a shriek of pleasure and cling to him like a wild woman. His strokes pound me against the futon, and we’re slamming it against the wall, and it doesn’t matter one bit because we’re both coming hard and fast and I’m so happy I might burst.

We don’t make it back to Daisy’s apartment for well over an hour. And that’s okay, too. Somehow, I think Daisy was expecting that.

DANIEL

Making love to Regan in a place where we don’t have to keep one eye on the door and one foot on the floor is both weird and amazing. I can’t wait to actually go to bed with her and then be able to wake up and have morning sex. Then we can go back to sleep and wake up and have midmorning sex. When I suggested that we stay in the small futon bed and pretend we fell asleep, she shakes her head. Daisy is expecting us. Well, fuck Daisy, I think, but I pull on my trousers and join the surly Ukrainian and his farm girl for dinner. At least they have food. In the kitchen, the girls are making drinks that contain candy canes. I don’t mind a fruity drink now and then, but I draw the line at candy canes in my booze.

Nick, in a rare fit of insightfulness, invites me to the rooftop. In theory it’s a good idea. Go outside and get a fresh perspective. The reality involves standing out in subzero temperatures, which sends my balls inside my body for warmth. I hope the boys come out when we see Regan again. Nick is Ukrainian, so apparently he’s impervious to the cold because he’s standing in a thin cotton shirt looking like he’s enjoying the Arctic breeze. I’m drinking my Shiner Bock as fast as possible to get some heat into my veins.



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