Meet Naomi and Vasily in the newest addition to the Hitman
Series*
LAST KISS
LAST KISS
NOW AVAILABLE!
Published by Berkley, a division of Penguin
$7.99
*The
first book in the series, Last Hit, has been optioned for a movie by Flame
Ventures.
Naomi: When I was kidnapped I thought only of survival. I don’t thrive
well in chaos. That’s why I gave my captors exactly what they wanted: my skill
with computers. Making millions for a crime lord who kept me imprisoned in his
basement compound kept my family safe. When he was taken out, I thought my
ticket to freedom had arrived. Wrong. I traded one keeper for another. This
time I’m in the hands of a scarred, dark, demanding Russian who happens to be
the head of the Bratva, a Russian crime organization. He wants my brain and my
body. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued, but I can’t be a prisoner
forever...no matter how good he makes me feel.
Vasily: At a young age, I was taught that a man without power is a
puppet for all. I’ve clawed—and killed—my way to the top so that it is my heel
on their necks. But to unify the fractured organization into an undefeatable
machine, I need a technological genius to help me steal one particular
artifact. That she is breathtaking, determined, and vulnerable is making her
more dangerous than all of my enemies combined. But only I can keep her safe
from the world that she now inhabits. Soon, I must choose between Naomi and
Bratva law. But with every day that passes, this becomes a more impossible choice.
“Do you wish for me to touch you?”
I nod, sucking in a breath when his thumb skates across my
lower lip. I should be thinking GERMS BACTERIA CONJUNCTIVITIS
HERPES SKIN CONTACT PATHOGENS but
all I can focus on is how skittery and excited his touch makes me. My pulse
jumps, and I realize that I’m as aroused now with him talking to me and
touching me with his fingers as I was in the bathroom when I masturbated.
He pulls his hand away again, and I realize his other is
gripping my shoulder, his arm wrapped around my back. I’m pulled against his
chest, and I feel oddly secure here against him. Then, Vasily moves his fingers
in the air again, as if to get my attention. I watch as his free hand now moves
to my knee and firmly presses it back, nudging my legs apart.
And I’m helpless to protest. I want this. I want to know
what’s going to happen when he touches me. I’m throbbing and aching with need,
and my breath is coming as small, gasping little pants that are registering
even in my distracted mind.
“Are you still unsettled?” he asks in a low voice.
“No,” I whisper, my tone matching his. “I’m aching.”
He groans softly, and then his hand glides up the inside of
my thigh, the backs of his fingers skimming along my leg. Then, Vasily’s hand
moves and he is cupping my pussy. He feels scorching hot against me, and just
the sensation of his skin touching mine is making me anxious.
“You are very wet,” he rasps, and I notice curiously that
his breathing is as rapid as my own. One of his fingers presses forward,
parting the lips of my pussy and pushing in. “Very wet.”
“I can’t help it. It’s a natural reaction to stimuli, but I
understand if it disturbs you—”
“I like it.” His voice is a guttural growl against my ear,
and I shiver. I didn’t realize how close he’s pressed to me but I can feel his
breath on my neck, and his head is canted toward mine, as if he is telling me
secrets. “I like that your wetness is for me.”
“I don’t know if—” I begin to protest, but his finger taps
against my clit, and I gasp, completely and utterly distracted by that quick
touch. It feels . . . different to have a man do it for me. Very
different. Intense. Raw. I grab his hand at the wrist and press my flesh
against his fingers, asking for more.
“Tell me what you want, Naomi.”
“More.” I press his hand again, breathless, and my hips
twitch. “Start with an even rhythm and circle the hood of my clit. Over time,
speed up and increase the frequency of touches. You can change the pattern as
you go but don’t let up until I come.”
He laughs again, and I stiffen, but then his finger begins
to move against my clit, stroking it in tiny circles like I told him. “I like
that you tell me exactly what you want, Naomi. There are no games with you.”
I’m confused at that. Isn’t that what he wants me to do?
But then a second finger follows the first, and he’s rubbing wide circles
around my clit, and adding an extra little stroke every now and then, and it
feels like he’s taking my flesh between his fingers and just rubbing rubbing
rubbing . . . And I love it.
“Just like that,” I tell him, closing my eyes and falling
against his shoulder. I hold my knees open wider so he won’t stop touching me,
and my hips begin to move, involuntarily following his fingers as he touches
me.
“Do you like this?” His voice is rough, biting, and so
close to my face.
I nod without opening my eyes, letting the sensations take
over. “It feels much better when you do it,” I tell him, and cry out when one
of his fingers dips lower and touches me . . . deeper. “What are
you doing?”
“I am seeing if you like more touches.” His nose nuzzles
against my face, and I press against him, seeming to need his caresses as much
as I need his touch on my clitoris. “Are you frightened?”
“No, but I like the other touch better,” I tell him as his
finger circles lower. “That one just makes me ache.”
“It makes your cunt ache to be filled,” he tells me.
“Someday, you will let me fill it for you.”
I don’t reply; I don’t need to, because he circles a finger
at the entrance to my core a moment longer, and then shifts his hand. My
fingers graze over his, exploring—I feel too good to open my eyes and leave the
sea of sensations—and I realize he’s now working my clit with his thumb. His
finger presses deeper again, and I gasp when he sinks it into me.
I’m riding his hand.
He murmurs something in Russian and I feel his mouth press
against my brow.
Then, as if he’s a car that’s changed gears, he begins to
press his thumb against my clit rapidly. His speed is so fast that he
practically feels as if he’s vibrating . . . and these motions
carry down to the thick finger that’s buried deep inside me.
I’ve never experienced this double sensation before, and
it’s overwhelming.
I bite my lip, and when that won’t hold my feelings inside,
I burst into noisy gasps and my hands start clawing at him, at his shirt. I
don’t know what I need, but this feels like too much. It’s overwhelming and
twice as powerful as anything I’ve ever done to myself. “Stop, stop,” I
breathe, even as I press my legs further apart and lift my hips against his
hand.
“Vasily, stop. Vasily!”
“Keep saying my name like that, Naomi.”
“Vasily, please.” I pull at his shirt, practically butting
my head against him as I writhe against his hand. “I need . . .
something . . . more . . . not as fast. Too
much!”
But he keeps twitching that intense thumb against my clit,
stroking his finger inside me. He’s not stopping. If anything, he’s going
faster.
And all of a sudden, my body can’t handle it anymore. I
burst and a hard, choked noise rushes out of my throat, and my body clenches
and I’m coming, coming, coming, endlessly coming.
I feel as if I’m being torn apart by pleasure so intense
it’s making my toes curl even as the breath leaves my lungs. And all the while,
I gasp like a dying fish and cling to his shirt.
Hypothesis? Destroyed.
Hitman Series Reading Order
Last Hit
Last Breath
About the Author:
Author Jen Frederick
Jen Frederick lives with her husband, child,
and one rambunctious dog. She's been reading stories all her life but
never imagined writing one of her own. Jen loves to hear from readers so drop
her a line at jensfrederick@gmail.com.
Website: http://jenfrederick.com/blog/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/jensfred
Author Jessica Clare
Jessica Clare has been an incurable romantic since childhood.
She reads all the 'naughty parts' of books first, looks for a dirty joke in
just about everything, and thinks to this day that the Little House on the
Prairie books should have been steamier.
After devouring hundreds of paperback romances, mythology
books, and archaeological tomes, she decided to write a few books of her own -
stories with a wild adventure, sharp banter, and lots of super-sexy situations.
She prefers her heroes alpha and half-dressed, her heroines witty, and she
loves nothing more than watching them overcome adversity to fall into bed
together.
Website: http://jillmyles.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/_JessicaClare
Goodreads: http://tinyurl.com/q4272wf
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