Page 2 of The Hitman's Prince

Maybe I was more like my father than I’d realized.

Shivering from arousal and drunk with power, the only warning I gave Orion of my impending orgasm was another command.

“Swallow it all,” I warned.

He grunted and I shot my load onto the back of his tongue, hot pulse after pulse of cum spilling into his mouth. I pulled out and he chased after me, gulping down a mixture of spit and cum like he was sex-starved, which I knew was impossible. Finally, I took the gun away from his face long enough to put my sticky and sated shaft back into my pants. I flipped the safety back into place and slid the gun into my waistband. Orion stayed on his knees, lips far wetter than when we’d started.

“Good fucking boy, Orion,” I praised him and slapped his cheek at the same time, my voice dripping with sarcasm through every syllable. “Now get rid of his body and clean up that fucking mess.”

Chapter 2

Orion

Vince slammed the door on his way out.

I didn’t flinch. I barely even heard it over the rush of blood in my ears. Covering my mouth with my hand, I swallowed hard, then hard again, and harder still, making sure I’d managed to corral all of Vince’s spend into my throat. I didn’t want to lose a drop of it—after waiting so long to taste him—and only once I was sure I’d gotten it all down did I even dare turn my stare toward Ricardo’s body on the other side of the room. Vince had done a number on him, which was a relief and a headache at the same time.

He was beyond dead, but I still took orders, and I stillhadorders.

“I fucking hate you for this,” I told his quickly cooling body.

He’d never frown at me again. He’d never spiton me again.

He’d never do a lot of things to me again.

Reaching under my arm, I pulled out my gun and shot him for myself, emptying the magazine right into his dick. I kept pressing the trigger, even after I’d run out of ammo, then reluctantly returned my weapon into the holster. It wasn’t enough, but it wouldneverbe enough.

The office was a goddamn mess, blood and brains all over his desk and the floor. I was tired and sore, even reaching to pull my phone out of my pocket hurt. I scrolled through my contacts and made my first call.

“What?” A gruff voice on the other line answered.

“I need a cleaner,” I said.

“Where?”

I gave the address and hung up.

Before I lost all of my energy, I dialed the next number on my list.

“Yes?” It was a woman this time.

I knew I didn’t need to watch my words on either call. The phones we used were untraceable and so encrypted the world would end before anyone was able to break through their operating systems. It was force of habit more than anything else, the respect that was earned and given when you lived the kind of lives people like us did.

“I’m calling in a contract.” I glanced at Ricardo, then back to the door.

“Mark?”

My cock was so hard it hurt. Reaching down, I palmed myself through my pants, even though the pressure did little to alleviate the ache between my legs. My jawburned from the way Vince had just fucked my mouth and that familiar depravity nipped at me from just beneath the surface.

“Vincent Angelini,” I said.

“Price?”

“Two mil.”

It was the number Ricardo had given me, and the number I would offer up. I wondered, briefly, if he would have put the demand on me if he’d known his son was going to be the one to kill him.

“Fourteen days,” she said.