The Hitman's Secret

Ch. 11: Reparations

VALENTINA

Even in the cover of the night, Val saw Matteo's eyes darken at her challenge.

It had taken every ounce of courage in her body to shed her nightgown, but that courage faded with every second she spent pinned under his intense gaze. She remained on the bed's edge, willing confidence that she did not truly possess into her eyes.

"You're playing games, principessa," he half-growled, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

Was he angry? She couldn't tell. He'd certainly been angry when he found her in his bedroom, seconds after he had her pinned to the mattress by her neck in his semi-conscious state.

The memory of his strong hand wrapped around her windpipe should've been enough to make Val run back to her bedroom after it became clear that he didn't want to speak to her any longer. But she refused to leave when the fate of their relationship teetered on the brink of disrepair.

Of course, she hadn't gone to his bedroom with the intent to seduce him, although she would be lying if she said the thought hadn't crossed her mind. But she also hadn't imagined that their conversation would go so poorly, either. She was desperate.

Matteo, her hitman and bodyguard, made it clear that he did not approve of her decisions. Now, she appealed to Matteo, her lover.

"This isn't a game to me, Matteo," she said matter-of-factly. "I meant it when I said that I wanted to experience my firsts with the man of my choosing, but you haven't touched me since the night of the wedding."

He stepped closer, cocking his head to the side like a predator, questioning the direction of her words. Unfortunately, he left the glass of Scotch behind him. Val could've used the liquid fortitude.

"And?" he questioned, his tone darker than she'd anticipated, as if he knew her next words but wanted to hear her say them herself.

Val took a deep breath, forcing her eyes to remain on his instead of trailing down his broad form.

"Are you still up to the task?" She tilted her own head to the side, leaning back on her palms in her best attempt at seduction.

His gaze immediately fell to her breasts now on full display, and they grew heavier under his heated attention.

Val finally allowed her own eyes to drink in the sight of him. All muscles and power. A faint dusting of dark hair covered his taut chest, tapering out around his abdomen and reappearing beneath his belly button. Dark ink decorated his skin, and she longed to trace every line. Acquaint herself with every inch that he kept hidden from the world.

His gray boxers did little to conceal his impressive length, a prospect that simultaneously frightened and thrilled her. With every step that he advanced toward the bed, the bulge seemed to grow larger, and her fingers itched to discover what he felt like.

Matteo stopped directly in front of her again, his tented boxers mere inches from her face. Somehow, Val managed to force her eyes back up his body.

"If I say no?" he murmured.

Val's heart accelerated as he bridged the small distance between them with his hand, tracking a knuckle against her cheekbone. His touch was gentle but unaffectionate. Taunting.

She swallowed, fixing him with a hooded glare. "Do you think I would struggle to find another?"

Her words had the intended effect. Matteo's icy control shattered.

With blinding speed, he hooked both hands beneath her knees and pulled. A soft cry escaped her lips as her back hit the mattress, her ass hoisted to the very edge of the bed.