Belonging to the Hitman (Men of Ruthless Corp)

I don't even know this man's last name, yet I feel like I'm banking my forever on him. A man I just met, who's coming inside me with his steel-hard cock, who's making me gasp, bite my knuckles, bear down, close my eyes, moan, cry out. Beg for more.

"Oh, Flynn," I tell him. "Yes," I pant. "Yes."

"Fuck, you feel so good," he tells me, and I feel so good too. He moves against me as if we've made this motion a thousand times, as if it's been rehearsed, memorized, his body with mine. Something that was written in a melody a long time ago, but it's my first time, and somehow it's magic.

Flynn comes inside of me with a grunt, a growl, his breath hot on my ear. Then his mouth is on mine and he's kissing me again, scooping me up in his arms. We roll on our sides as he finishes inside of me, and I don't want it to end, this moment, this night.

"It won't," he tells me, reading my mind once more. "It's not over," he says. "Fifi, I think it's just begun."

7

Flynn

I wake up with her body curled against mine, my cock still hard, my hands cupping her breasts. I'm dazed, but not confused. I told this woman I loved her last night and as crazy as it sounds, I don't regret it one damn bit. She stirs against me, rolling over.

"Hey," she says.

"We didn't get much sleep. Do you want me to order in breakfast?" I ask her.

She blinks. "Breakfast. Oh, shit. I can't. I have to meet my dad. I promised him."

"You think he'd mind you missing one little breakfast?"

"Maybe any other time, but this time I made a promise."

I smile, tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. "And you don't break your promises."

"Exactly," she says, kissing me as if we've woke up like this a hundred times before. "When can I see you again?" she asks, already getting up out of bed, reaching for her tote bag, looking for clothes.

"Fuck, I wish you weren't getting dressed," I tell her. "I could spend all day with you in this bed."

She twists her lips, looking over her shoulder at me. I love her hips, her round ass, her sun-kissed skin. "Don't you have work to do?"

"Damn," I say, sitting up in bed, running a hand over my jaw. "I do. I got some shit to take care of this afternoon."

She smiles. "So let's meet for dinner."

"And by dinner, you mean us, this bed, me eating you out?"

She laughs. "Sure. That sounds fantastic. However, I might also want a cheeseburger. I am a girl with an appetite."

"Do you know how hot that is?"

She wiggles her butt, slapping her cheek. "I have a feeling." She laughs so naturally. I have no idea how she hasn't been snatched up by another man. I feel like one lucky bastard.

"Anyways," she says, "I promised my dad. And yesterday, I kind of let him in on my new life plans, so I feel like I owe it to him."

"Yeah? You guys are pretty close?"

She nods, pulling on a black t-shirt dress and putting her feet back in her flip-flops, fluffing her hair then tying it into a knot on the top of her head. "We're really close. Like I said, my mom died, which meant he and I, we kind of did everything together. And he's pretty protective."

I frown. "How protective?"

"Really protective, as in maybe there's a reason I've never brought a man home."

"So you think he'll have a problem with me?"

She smiles. "No, I think he's going to love you."

"What makes you so confident?” I ask.

"Honestly, because I basically love you."

"Basically?"

She laughs. "I don't know how much of last night was sex-induced, frenzied declarations, but..."

I get out of bed. I walk toward her. I draw her close. "It was nothing sex-induced. It was pure. It was real. You and me, Fifi, we're... You belong to me."

"My feminist sensibilities should balk at that," she admits, "but when you say it, it just gets me wet."

I run my hand up her thigh, under her dress, cupping her pussy, hating like hell that she's wearing panties. "I could fuck you so hard right now."

She closes her eyes, moaning, looking at the clock. "I can't," she says. "There'll be plenty of time, though. I promise."

"Yeah? Good thing I know you like to keep your word."

"I do. I'm a good O'Grady. My dad taught me well."

"O'Grady," I repeat, flinching. "That's your last name?"

She smiles. "Yeah, I'm Fiona O'Grady, daughter of Cane. And he is a stickler for timelines." She pulls out her phone. "He's texted twice. He's expecting me in twenty minutes. I've got to get to his estate."

"Estate," I say, my heart suddenly tight. I run a hand over my chest, feeling like I could have a goddamn heart attack. "You got to get to his estate?"