Submitted by Lilith Colbert
I’m an assassin, not a thief – I should’ve known the whole thing was trouble, but I was….
And the polish was so pretty and sparkly and fit right onto the palm of my hand and into my pocket so easily.
Too easily now I think on it. Like the irresistible bait to a very dangerous fish.
I knew I was made when she walked up to me, all glide and slink, black dress spilling over her perfectly toned body, cat eyes glittering with amusement at my faux pas. Please note that were I so inclined to have desires toward the opposite sex, I would so have engendered a rendezvous of epic proportions.
She asked for a favor, a simple favor to keep my butt out of slam and her ex in check. He was a partner in the business, turns out, and wanted more than what she thought was his fair share.
“Watch him,” she purred, “that is all. Report to me if he meets with any lawyers or engages in any activity that might affect my – reputation.”
Would that it were that simple…..
Watching him was not a chore, as he was pretty to look at, but it was the same show nearly every night.
He did have kind eyes, though.
The kind I wanted to poke out.
Chocolate-amber eyes that glowed with intensity, his blade moving fluidly as the muscle underneath his golden skin. The kata was flawless, born from tradition and training, the black fundoshi leaving little to the imagination, bulging with the weapon it attempted to conceal.
No doubt thinking that at eleven o’clock no one would be privy to the show, yet little did he know that’s what I was hired to do, to watch.
Yet for all his magnificence, for all the black silken hair falling down his back in a perfect French braid, it was his eyes that held me fast. Eyes that stared me down, challenging me to look away as he faced the window, katana held in front of his face before cutting the blind strings, which came down in a loud clap that startled me even given the distance from my ears.
Time to jet and leave the lease to the fine tenant I’d sent away with 20K and a ticket to Barbados.
I grabbed my katana from the couch and opened the door without looking out the peephole.
There he was, dressed in a black tank and jeans, scowl on his face that at once intimidated and transfixed. He walked toward me, backing me up into the apartment, shutting the door behind him quietly.
“Look, my roommate – ”
“Is in Barbados.” His smooth, accented baritone sent shivers down my spine. “And isn’t your roommate.”
I continued to back up, unsheathing my blade, mesmerized like prey before a dancing cobra. “How do you know that?”
“The same way I know my bitch of an ex hired you – or should I say blackmailed you – after your little incident.” Even before I took my stance, he knew what strike I was going to use. Catching the blade in his hand, squeezing, his blood flowed down steel, past the tsuba, and onto my hand, warm, sticky, seductive. “I’ve been watching as well.”
“So, what do we do now?” I growled, locked into those damned eyes as I struggled to keep hold of my blade, yet he proved stronger when he took the hilt in his other hand, pulling it from me as he commandeered the sheath with his blood-soaked fingers, wiping the edge before placing it reverently back into its home.
“I think we both know the answer to that.”
His half-smile was so arrogant, so damned cocky it made me want to scream, but I was sweetly silenced by his lips. Goddess, they were soft, his tongue exploring deftly, curious at first, then a ravenous beast unable to control his hunger. My own tongue traced the roof of his mouth, flicking over sharp canines, forgetting that this man – whom I did not even know by name – had walked into the apartment like he paid rent.
I drowned in his embrace, his kiss a liquor that I had to consume. I moaned, my body begging for more, but my mind raging in defiance.
He chuckled, walking me over to the couch while lifting my tank over my head, untying my sweat bottoms to let them pool onto the carpet. I couldn’t say no, couldn’t resist, his sculpted abs hard against my belly, his desire resting upon my thigh as he sat me upon the couch. He slid down to kneel between my legs, grabbing them behind the knees and roughly positioning them upon his shoulders.
It was exquisite torture, the way he nibbled and bit and licked his way along my inner thighs, inching even closer to where I wanted that tongue to be. I ran my hand down his braid, untying the ribbon securing it and fanning his hair out along his shoulders, feeling the silk spill through my fingers. Finally, he touched just the tip to my pearl, sending me into convulsions before consuming it between his lips, sucking gently, my muscles twitching violently. He explored every inch of me, tasting the juices that flowed endlessly under his ministrations, my breath coming in short gasps as my abdomen tingled with approaching release, hands tangled in his hair.
“This is what you wanted, ne?” he rumbled, a jungle cat devouring his prey. “Your precious mind ever in the gutter, but always pretending to be so coy.”
My response was to scream, his fingers penetrating my wetness, finding my secret spot instantly. He stroked along my insides, warm nectar drenching him as a reward for his expertise. I was utterly his now, my body overriding any sense of violation or intrusion, the sense that this man, this stranger was somehow in control unsettling but not unpleasing.
Suddenly, he took my legs and swung them over one end of the couch, pulling me up so my buttocks was on the arm rest. He entered me slowly, filling me to the core, my body quivering the deeper he thrust. He finally began to move, a symphony of pleasure rocking my senses, making me arch my back, crying out when his thumb stroked my already-sensitive bud. Each time I was on the brink, he would decrease his rhythm and relax, only to increase it further a moment later.
“Please….” I begged for release, begged for him to quiet the whirlwind and unchain the storm threatening to burst my psyche.
He pulled me up, wrapping my arms around his strong back, his hair cascading over my shoulders. His tongue trailed down my neck, teeth nibbling along the flesh teasingly, breath warm in my ear. I cried out with every brutal thrust, his low growl making my insides tingle, every pore dripping with pleasure. When he bit down on my neck, near breaking the skin, I screamed, body convulsing with the most amazing release I had ever felt. He in turn roared his pleasure, throbbing inside me and bringing me again to peak.
I fell back onto the couch, muscles twitching in the aftershock, watching in a daze as he dressed, thinking he looked as beautiful clothed as not.
“Next time, you will come to me.” He spoke it as a command, not a question, and that in itself infuriated me.
“Hmmmm, you think you’re that good, eh?” I tried to rise, but couldn’t move, still comfortably numb, sated and satisfied, but I wasn’t going to let him know it.
He smiled as he zipped up his jeans, then walked over to crouch beside me. He ran his hand down my belly, starting the tingling anew, and then placed his fingers inside me, his thumb stroking my pearl to hardness once again. With one flick of his tongue where his thumb had been, I again convulsed in paroxysm.
“You will come to me.” I heard him open the door, but I was breathless, unable to move or speak. “And bring the katana – you need training.”