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“You’ve had every chance to kill me,” he finally said, his voice a deep rasp. “I didn’t even know you were here. It would have been easy to do it and slip away. Two ferries have come and gone since you arrived on this island. Yet you’ve been watching me, giving me advice on improving my aim. Running with me.”
“And?” I prompted when he didn’t continue.
“And it’s exactly what you did in Málaga and again in Santorini. This is a pattern with you. So I wonder and try to figure out the reason. And there’s only one explanation, Alessio.”
The air around us shifted. He knows.
With my heart now pounding, I felt my senses go into overdrive. I was cognizant of everything around me, each part of my body. The hard ground beneath my boots. The pain in my shoulder, the burn in my arm. The expansion of my lungs with every breath, the blood rushing through my veins.
I didn’t want him to say it.
Because it was true and giving voice to it would only bring me shame.
I tried to deflect. “Maybe I don’t see you as a threat. I can take my time, knowing you can never get away from me.”
His lips curled into a sexy smile. It was the first time he’d looked at me like this—like he wanted to strip me down and fuck me into oblivion—and I didn’t know what to do. It disoriented me. Made me want things I couldn’t possibly have. My mouth went dry.
“That is not why, assassino, and you know it. When you jerk off, who do you picture? Who are you imagining?”
I didn’t want to answer.
“Is it me?” He took three steps closer, putting himself within my reach. “I make your dick hard, no?”
I snorted and tried to make light of it, though my insides were on fire. “So you like that the man who will murder you also wants to fuck you?”
“I do, yes.” The truth was there in blue eyes now darkened with lust. “Maybe it’s fucked up, but I like knowing that you crave my cock again so much that you’re risking your career and your life. And I would be a fool not to use that against you.”
“These mind games are a waste of time. In the end, I will do what needs to be done.”
“I don’t think so.” He took another step closer to me. Then another. We were almost touching now. He let his gaze linger on my mouth. “I think you’d rather blow me again.”
I did, yes. Very badly. But I would not admit it to him.
Instead, I lifted one eyebrow and tried to appear unaffected. “I think you miss having a cock in your mouth, principe. I have a very nice one. Maybe if you do a halfway decent job, I’ll let you live.”
Very slowly, achingly slowly, he placed one palm on my chest. I could feel the heat of him through the layers separating us. Then he dragged his hand higher until he reached the bare skin of my throat. Sliding his palm to the side, he clasped my neck, as if holding me still.
Goosebumps raced over me at the feel of his firm grip. I couldn’t move, mesmerized by the heat and aggression staring up at me. At the moment, no one else existed. This man was all I could see and feel.
His voice was barely a whisper. “Have you been thinking about it? Remembering the taste of my come?”
The truth tumbled out before I could stop it. “Yes.”
Gaze locked on mine, he reached for the zipper of my jacket with his free hand. Then he pulled to lower it, each metal tooth unlocking in a sensual rasp. When the sides were free he pushed the heavy cloth over my right shoulder, then the left. It slid down my arms and dropped to the ground.
I was left in a tight compression shirt, much like the kind I wore when I ran. Giulio looked at my chest and shoulders for a long second, then back to my face. “Take out my cock,” he ordered. “And get on your knees.”
I could have refused. It was the smart thing to do.
But I was weak when it came to Giulio—and he knew it.
Like in a daze, I reached for the button on his jeans. I flicked it open and unzipped, careful of the thick bulge now pressing against his briefs. He was already hard for me, a fact I liked very much.
Reaching in, I wrapped my hand around his cock. He was hot, the skin stretched tight, and my mouth watered. I jacked him slowly, wanting to prolong this. Wanting to torture him.
He sucked in a quick breath. “Fuck, keep going.” He shoved his briefs and jeans lower on his hips, giving more room. “Tighter. That’s it.”
I stroked faster, harder. We were both looking down at my hand, our heads nearly touching. I thumbed the underside of his shaft, then moved up to the slit. I smeared the precum waiting there over his skin, using it like lube as I continued pumping my fist. His hand suddenly twitched on my neck.
