The Hitman's Secret

Ch. 24: Surrender (Part 2)

VALENTINA

A relieved sigh slipped past Val's lips as she looked into Matteo's eyes and saw emotion swirling in their whiskey depths.

Gone was the unrecognizable hollowness of a man on the brink of losing himself. In its place, intense expression shone through. Regret and anger. Gratitude and... hunger.

Warmth that had nothing to do with the steaming shower flushed through her body, and Val swallowed. Matteo didn't hold her gaze for long, his half-lidded eyes sweeping lower.

Her body prickled to life. Mist sprinkled off of Matteo's shoulders, covering her breasts with a thousand little droplets. Her nipples tightened, hardening beneath the heat of his attention. He lifted a hand to one of the soft mounds, his knuckles battered and swollen beyond recognition, and circled the aching bud with his thumb.

This was wrong. She knew this was wrong. She didn't come here for this. Blood still seeped from his torn eyelid, for goodness' sake!

"Your eye–" she began but lost her train of thought as he slowly rolled her sensitive tip between his thumb and forefinger. The delicious pinch shot straight to her center.

"Will be fine," he croaked, breaking his silence at last. His voice was rough, like gravel rattling in his broad chest.

He didn't need to say anything else. Val could practically feel the undercurrents of desire vibrating in the space between their bodies.

And, Dio, she could no longer contain her curiosity. Ever so slowly, her gaze slid down the length of his body. She thought nothing could look more magnificent than his finely-chiseled back, but she was wrong. She was so wrong.

Bruises were scattered across the hard planes of his chest, mingling with the black ink of tattoos that Val longed to study. For the time being, however, her eyes were drawn lower. Sbe couldn't resist.

Matteo inhaled and watched her fingers as she delicately traced the ridges along his abdomen, her gaze following the trail she now explored. She savored the sensation of every rigid muscle until her fingertips reached his pelvis, resting on the v-shaped indentation that led to his groin.

Everything below this point was uncharted territory.

Short dark hairs sprouted beneath his belly button, bleeding into thicker, darker curls at the base of his cock. She'd felt it press against her on multiple occasions, so she knew that it wasn't at its full size. At least, not yet.

With every second that she spent staring at him, the blood rushed to his penis and it pulsed, adding inch after inch. Val's lips parted, and she resisted the urge to reach out to touch him.

She pulled her hands back and wrenched her eyes back to his face, only to find him watching her with the smirk of a predator. She was a bundle of nerves.

"What should I do?" she whispered, eyes wide. "What do you need from me?"

"I liked what you were doing before," he answered, honest and guttural. As if he could sense her hesitation, he reached for the bar of green soap on the shelf and placed it in Val's palms again.

She lathered until suds covered her hands, then gently placed her palms against his pectoral muscles. She rubbed, careful of any noticeable bruises or marks on his flesh, and he closed his eyes, a low moan rumbling in his chest. The sound went straight to the heat churning in her core.

Val worked him, fingers curling and sliding along defined abdominal muscles. She washed away blood, not all of it his own, and massaged away tension. She took her time on the upper half of his body, until it became impossible to ignore his erection and the incessant pull in her own body to tend to it.