Lure (A Hitman's Bait 1)

Hi, I haven’t heard from you since this afternoon. Text me when you can. PS. I think Cinnamon misses you.

What I really wanted was to text him that I missed him, but I’d told him that too many times already. I didn’t want to come across as too clingy. We were just embarking on a relationship after all.

Sully was probably still trying to figure out if he wanted to be with another man.

“Here we go,” the Uber driver said as he drove up to my house. “I think this is your stop. Have a good night.”

“Thanks, you too.”

I climbed out of the car and got my keys out. I let myself into the house and locked the door behind me, not bothering to turn on the lights. Leaning against the solid wood, I closed my eyes.

Don’t think about it too much. Just breathe.

Footsteps approached, but before I could react, a hand clamped over my mouth. It was incredible how they located my mouth in the dark. I squeaked and yanked at the arm, but I was no match for the solid body that shoved me against the wall and tore at my shirt.

Oh god. Oh god. What’s happening?

The ripping of material brought me out of my daze. My shirt fell off my body, leaving my chest mostly bare.

I bit the hand covering my mouth, wriggling and forcing my body back. An oomph meant that my elbow had connected with their ribs. Good. I went for another jab, but an arm came around my waist, trapping my arms against my body.

A hot, heavy breath blew against my cheek. I inhaled deeply. Something about the scent was familiar. The arms around me…

Could it be? I had told him about this fantasy of mine.

I want you to fight me. Give it all you’ve got.

Sully was home.

I reared my head back and butted him in the nose.

“Fuck.”

Sully. It was really him.

He released me, but only enough to swing me up into his arms and march with me toward the bedroom. No, not the bedroom. The dining room. He didn’t even turn the lights on.

“Let me go!” I shouted. The words actually came out now that his hand was no longer covering my mouth. “You won’t get away with this.” I beat at his arms.

Sully threw me down hard onto the table, which knocked the wind out of me. He seemed so into the role, and my heart pumped wildly in my chest. My cock was hard.

I tried to turn over onto my back, but a hand planted in my back kept me in place.

“Don’t fucking move.”

I squirmed and kicked back at him. Hands caught the elastic waistband of my shorts and yanked them down to my knees. An open palm crashed against my ass cheek, and I yelped. It stung so good.

“You son of a bitch, that hurts!”

He slapped my ass again, and I clenched my cheeks against the pain. Smack. Smack. He punished me as if I were a naughty schoolboy in the Victorian era. My cheeks burned, and I twitched, jerking wildly each time he smacked my bottom.

“The more you fight me, the more it’ll hurt,” he snarled, and a shiver ran down my spine.

Sully sounded different.

This was the sound of a man capable of hurting…of causing pain…of killing.

He tugged my thong to one side and pressed his fingers into my asshole. I bucked under him, but it did nothing to deter the fingers shoving in and out of me. I grimaced at the rough intrusion. He removed his fingers, and I whined a protest, forgetting for a moment the part I was supposed to play.