Atonement (Master's Protege 2)

My heartbeat spikes.

I nod. “Yes, sir. Of course.”

He loves it when I submit to him. This is the only time he gets it. Cain has a rules kink—when he gives me rules to repeat, he loves to dominate me. My first taste of this particular kink was on the target range when he punished me for shooting a gun without permission. He’s done it several times since, so it doesn’t take me by surprise now.

“Assassins have plans to succeed, Violet. They never take on a job they think they can’t handle, for failing at their job has dire consequences. They take on what they can do, and don’t commit to anything they can’t.”

I nod. “Got it. Assassins plan to succeed.”

I gasp when he snaps a towel out on the bed for me to kneel on. He has plans for me tonight. Dirty, naughty plans, and I’m here for it.

When the towel’s secured to catch anything messy, warmed oil licks down my back. The cinnamon candle. Heated through, it melts into a massage oil that can be used anywhere on the body, and I do mean anywhere. I close my eyes at the glow the heat creates across my skin, then moan when I feel him rub it into me.

“Assassins get paid up front. No credit. No payment plans. Cold, hard cash.”

The oil seeps into my skin, and I’m enveloped in the scent of warmed spice. My grip loosens on the headboard from my palms slick with sweat. His palm cracks across my ass.

“Hold onto that headboard like I told you.”

I quickly obey and repeat the rule. “Assassins get paid up front.”

“Good girl. Next rule, and this one is vital. Are you paying attention?”

“Mhm,” I say absentmindedly, just to get him riled up.

“Violet.” He tweaks my nipples.

I gasp. “I’m listening!”

When he’s satisfied he has my attention, he continues, speaking deliberately so his words hold weight. “Assassins kill with their heads, not their hands.”

That’s so hot. Oh, God, why is that so hot?

He strokes between my legs, then pumps two fingers into my core.

“Oh, God,” I moan. “But you do know what to do with those hands don’t you?”

“I do,” he says with a low chuckle. “Now repeat the rule before I take my hands away.”

“No,” I moan, rocking my hips against his hand. “Don’t go.” I’m panting. “Assassins… kill… with their heads… not their hands.”

“Good job. We don’t need brute force, though proficiency with a weapon works well. We need to be astute and on point, prepared to pull the trigger when the time is right. Taking a human life isn’t as easy as it sounds, because we’ve muted our responses to such things with video games and movies. It’s a hairline fracture we walk, and we always, always have to be alert, ready, and mentally prepared.”

I nod. “Understood.”

“Any numbskull with a knife can kill someone. To be a professional, you have to know your shit.”

He stops stroking, and my temper flares.

“Is that a rule, or are you just elaborating?” I say tightly, earning me another slap to the ass.

“Watch your tone of voice. You wouldn’t want to be punished by going to bed without your dessert, now, would you?”

Goddamn.

“No,” I say, as repentant as could be. He continues his perfect, brilliant stroking, until I’m panting and nearly begging him for more.

“Assassins trust no one.”

What an odd rule, considering he’s asked me to trust him over, and over, and over. Could it be that he’s gone so long without trusting anyone that he needs to know there’s still someone who can?

I moan at the feel of the head of his cock at my entrance. He swirls the hot tip through my swollen, slick folds, releasing a moan of his own.

“Assassins don’t get fancy,” he says. “This isn’t the movies. This is real life. We don’t use car bombs or poison fucking appetizers at a ball when a simple bullet or slit throat will do.”

“Got it.”

He shoves in me, a thrust that takes my breath away and makes ecstasy erupt in every damn cell. I moan, pushing back against him just to feel his thick, hot cock pulsing in me again.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans.

My fingers tighten on the headboard as he pumps his hips and makes little sparks of electricity dance across my skin.

“You’re so tight,” he whispers in my ear, as I near release.

“Is that another rule?” I lower my voice but have a hard time concentrating. “Be tight.”

His dark chuckle washes over me as my eyes flutter closed against the rush of emotion. “Don’t you let go,” he orders as he comes inside me, filling me with his hot release. I come when he does, giving in to the pressure and release that fills me as I shatter into ecstasy. “Don’t you ever fucking let go.”

We collapse on the bed, tangled in each other. His words echo in my ear.