Page 97 of Fastest Kill

"I know what stakeouts do to you." He kept his voice soft and close to her ear. "The waiting. The anticipation. What it's going to feel like when the moment finally comes." His hand slid inside her jeans, beneath the thin fabric of her panties, and found her warm and slick. "I know what the kill does. You're already so fucking wet."

"I hate that you know me this well," she said, her voice slightly unsteady.

Dario stroked her slowly, watching the back of her neck flush. "It doesn't feel like you hate it."

"The target⁠—"

"Isn't here yet." He pressed two fingers slowly through her folds, feeling her hips rock fractionally toward his hand before she controlled it. He rubbed his groin against her ass before holding her there so she could feel how hard he was for her. "You keep your eye on that scope. You're the professional. I'm just keeping you company."

She exhaled something that was almost a curse, but did as she was told.

He worked her slowly, leaning into the rhythm that made her breath stutter, the pressure that made her thighs tighten. Dario would never get enough of the soft feel of her perfect pussy and the way it gripped his fingers with every stroke inside her.

She was shaking already, a fine tremor she was fighting to control, and the sight of it went through him like a wire pulled tight.

Dario pulled her jeans down just enough. The cold hit her skin for one second, sharp and clean, and then he was under her jacket, his mouth on her soaked pussy.

"Fuck, Dario…"

"Don't you stop focusing on your target, baby," he growled in warning, his hands gripping her thighs tighter and pulling her back against his mouth.

She bit back a sound, and her whole body shuddered with the effort to stay still.

He was thorough. He wasn't gentle. Neither of them ever wanted gentle. He knew exactly what she needed and how she needed it. He had spent weeks learning her body to the point of obsession. He used every piece of that knowledge against her now. His tongue stroked over her pussy all the way up to rim her tight little ass and back down again, while his finger worked her in the slow circles that made her legs shake. He only pulled back when he felt her getting close.

"Don't move," he murmured against her. "Don't make a sound."

"You bas—" The word cut off. Her knuckles were white on the rifle.

She was right at the edge, and he knew it by the tension that ran through her just before she came. He held her there because he wanted her desperate and to feel her fall apart all at once.

He got back to his feet and pulled his dripping dick free of his jeans, lined himself up, and pushed inside her in one long, slow thrust.

Her exhale was sharp and involuntary, turning into a moan.

"Eyes on target," he said against her ear as he covered her with his big body. He held her hips, sliding her on and off him, slowly and deeply. "There we go. Now we are nice and warm, aren't we? I might actually start to feel my balls again soon."

"I'm going to—" Her voice broke into a breathy stammer. "I'm going to kill you after this."

"Sure you will." He pulled back and thrust again, deep and measured, making her inner walls flutter around him. "Eyes. On. The. Target. Spartana," he said, punctuating each word with a hard thrust.

Frederica watched the building through the scope, her body giving her away in every other way while her eye stayed steady at the glass.

Dario fucked her slow and deep, watching her fight to keep in control. The cold air moved over them both, a sharp contrast to their heated skin and the trickle of sweat that slid down his spine. Somewhere below, the brass band launched badly into another carol.

"When he appears," Dario said, low in her ear. "You're going to take the shot." He reached around her, found her clit with his fingers, making her whole body jolt. "And we are going to come at the same time."

"That's not—I can't⁠—"

"You can." He circled slowly, and her hips pushed back against him, the control she was maintaining crumbling at the edges. "You're perfect at this. All of it." He picked up the pace, his hips rolling into her harder, his fingers matching the rhythm.

The pressure was impossible, and he knew she was close. He was struggling to hold on, but he wanted to make it last, keep her on edge the same way he had been all night.

Light flooded a window on the third floor of the palace across the river.

"There he is," she breathed.

Dario pressed harder on her clit. "Take the shot, Spartana."