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The gentle thrusts that let me adjust quicken at my urging. I match his rhythm, falling into a sinfully divine groove that has me racing toward another orgasm.

I throw my head back, my hand curled around the back of his neck, as he pounds me into the mattress.

“Yes. This is… what I needed.”

He grips my face, his thumb on my bottom lip, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Eyes on me. I wanna watch you come with my cock deep inside you.”

Jesus.

This man is perfect.

I’ll be sore tomorrow, but this is so worth it.

Then his thumb circles my clit again, and I feel like I’m going to lose my mind from the sensations rolling through me.

“Fuck me, Hitman.”

“Say my name,” he growls. “Or I won’t make you come.”

Oh, God, no. That’s torture.

He fucks me hard and deep while his eyes burn into mine.

“Roman,” I whisper, feeling the orgasm closing in. “I’m going to cum⁠—”

His next thrust sends my entire body into convulsions that go on and on until I’m boneless and weak.

Sweat beads along his temple as his pace slows. A flash of pain crosses his face before his jaw tightens, then it’s gone.

Shoving himself deep inside me, his body goes rigid as he fills the condom.

I reach up and cup his face.

I’m never letting him go.

Not after that.

6

ROMAN

I do my best not to show any weakness while I’m fucking her.

I've already been stabbed, murdered two people, passed out twice, been kidnapped by a woman dressed as a cat, and survived YouTube surgery.

I'm finishing one fucking thing tonight.

I hope.

Right now, I’m riding the high of adrenaline.

But the second I orgasm, reality crashes back in.

I’m sore, exhausted, and lightheaded. My wound is throbbing.

My body is basically sending me a formal “fuck you” complaint.