Page 22 of The Hitman's Prince

“You weren’t lurking,” he said. “You were just walking. Just heading the same way I’m heading?”

“Not everything is a conspiracy, Vince.”

He moved quickly, somehow grasping me by the collar of my shirt and reaching for his gun at the same time. My shoulders hit the sidewalk hard enough to splinter, and he used my body to deflect his knees from hitting the ground. He shoved the gun under my chin, his eyes far from his earlier judgement. He’d made up his mind.

“How the fuck do you know my name?”

I laughed nervously and tried to fold my hands together on my chest, but ended up grazing his thighs on accident. He shifted away from me, lowering himself down my body until my erect cock poked his ass, and then we both went still.

“Everyone knows who you are,” I whispered.

“And still you lurk and follow?”

“Just walking,” I reminded him.

“Just cruising,” he corrected.

My lashes fluttered and I tried my best to shrug, but his weight on top of me made it difficult, the gun under my chin still a very real threat.

“What were you after?” he asked next, shifting up and off my cock, onto his feet. He didn’t help me up, and it wasn’t a big stretch of the imagination to guess Vince preferred men on their knees. I rolled onto my side, to all fours, then I looked up at him before rocking back onto my heels.

This was the opportunity I’d been waiting my whole life for.

From the first time I’d seen Vince Angelini, I’d wanted him, and one failed assassination attempt later, I was closer than ever to having him.

“I wasn’t being too discerning, to be honest.”

Vince made his decision, jerking his head toward the alley behind him. I scrambled to my feet, sinking back to my knees as soon as we were both safe from the streetlights. He kept his gun in his hand, watching me warily.

“Keep your hands where I can see them,” he said.

I showed them to him, slowly reaching for his belt. He nodded, and I made quick work of it and his fly, whimpering when his cock sprang free in front of my face. He was huge, long and thick, a pulsing vein wrapping around his shaft and I was desperate to lick it, so I did. Curling my fingers around his thighs, I took the tip of him into my mouth, sealing my lips around the flared crown and sucking him into the back of my throat.

He tasted like salt, like blood, like dreams coming true. Spit pooled in the corners of my mouth, and I relaxed my jaw with a groan, taking him as deep into my mouth as I could manage. I was desperate to touch myself while I sucked him, but Vince had sounded very serious about keeping my hands in view, so I bore through the pain between my legs and my jaw with my hands around his thighs.

Vince came quickly, pulling out and shooting his load across my mouth and my chin. With his head thrown back, he looked like a fucking angel above me, dark hair framed by the stretching rays of light that didn’t quite reach us. After he finished, the only sound in the alley was his rough and labored exhales, louder than the rapid beating of my heart in my ears.

I blinked up at him, slowly peeling my hand off his leg and scooping his cum into my mouth. I made a show of licking my fingers and swallowing his spend, then it was my breath that came hard, like a battle I was barely winning. I’d wanted him for so long and now I just wanted him to leave so I could come.

“You have a dangerous mouth, Caspian,” he murmured, tracing my cheekbone with the tip of his gun before returning it to the holster. He fastened his pants, gave me one last look that I didn’t have time to read, then he left me on my knees in the alley.

Chapter 17

Orion

Ikicked the bloodied whip out of the way and closed the small space left between me and the priest. He was on the stairs, half curled into a ball, his lips murmuring a prayer I’d never understand, his lashes fluttering like he was thigh-deep in some religious sort of ecstasy reserved for the Lord’s most faithful.

I sank down to my knees beside him and slapped him hard across the face. His eyes flew open on a gasp that quickly turned to a whimper. His hips jerked, and I recognized the seizures of his unexpected orgasm. Looking down, I watched with a frown as a wet spot appeared on the front of his gray sweatpants, the rod beneath the well-worn fabric impressive and long.

“Do you live here?” I asked.

“Yes.”

I shifted my arm around his shoulders, hauling him to his feet. He was steadier than I would have been after thewhipping he’d received, and thankfully coherent enough now to direct me through the small back office and into the even smaller apartment. It was hardly more than a room, outfitted with a twin bed in the corner, a small desk under the window, and a kitchenette against the back wall beside a door I assumed led to a bathroom. My suspicions were confirmed when he twisted the knob and shuffled us both into the plain little room made up of nothing more than a toilet, a sink, and a small shower stall.

“How do you survive this?” I asked, trying not to think about all the shitty hotels I’d stayed at since Vince’s failed assassination attempt and how they all compared to the overstated luxury of Vince’s home.

Ofmyhome.