Page 10 of Run, Little Thief

I moan desperately. “Please let me come . . .”

“Will you be a good girl and hand over the files you stole?”

My incredulous laugh fills the room. “No way.”

“Wrong answer,” he breathes against my neck, then he pushes me back down, one hand pressed between my shoulder blades so I can’t move.

A heartbeat later, his palm collides with my right ass cheek.

“Fuck!”

Pain blooms in my bottom and turns to sizzling heat. My first instinct should be to get the fuck away from him, but my body has a mind of its own, and I thrust back into him, needing more of this. More of him.

Reaper slaps me again, and my scream turns into a sobbing moan.

“Damn it, woman. You like that too, don’t you?” His fingers travel between my legs and start to play with my clit again while he fucks me. Harder this time. Faster. Hitting all the right spots.

I’m so turned on I’m literally shaking—and so wet my juices are running down my thighs. My nipples rub against the cold stone with each thrust of his hips, creating a delicious friction, and his fingers never rest, massaging my clit ruthlessly as he pistons into me. His hot breath caresses my neck as he leans over me, caging me in, leaving me with no other choice than to take everything he’s giving me. I couldn’t get away from him if I tried.

And I love every second of it.

“Come for me, little thief.”

I almost come apart at just hearing his dark and strained voice this close to my ear. My fingers dig into the holy stone, desperately trying to hold onto something when everything else is falling apart.

Reaper quickens his pace, rutting into me even faster, harder, while his fingers rub my clit ferociously. “Come getting fucked by a stranger on an altar. Come right . . . fucking . . . now.”

Yeah, that’ll do it.

My body flares up, and my screams fill the church as I orgasm harder than I ever have before. Wave after wave hits me, until I’m sure I can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck,” he groans, burying himself to the hilt. His dick twitches, then he spills deep inside of me.

I’m a shaking mess. My heart races, and sweat clings to my skin. When he pulls out, I feel his cum mixed with my own juices running down my thighs. It’s as if he’s branded me.

I’m not a prude. I’ve had my fair share of boyfriends and short-lived relationships. But I know without a doubt that was the best sex I’ve ever had. The best sex I’ll probably ever have.

With a masked stranger.

My now lethal enemy.

In a fucking church.

Oh, dear Lord, I’m going straight to hell. Might as well enjoy the ride.

CHAPTER 5

When I try to get up, I suddenly find myself in his embrace. His arms snake around me from behind, and his fingers grab my throat, enclosing it in his hand.

“We’re not done yet,” he murmurs, pulling me closer to his chest.

Abruptly, he turns me around and lifts me up onto the altar, getting rid of my clothes and my shoes and then spreading my legs wide with his broad shoulders. He pulls his mask up to his nose, and a moment later, his hot breath is tingling on the insides of my thighs as his tongue starts its slow torture.

My moan sounds like a cry now, and my fingers dig into his hair, pressing him to me but also holding him back.

“I can’t,” I gasp, totally spent and boneless. “I can’t come again.”

It’s a great night if I get one orgasm from a man, but more than that? Never happens. It’s just not in my DNA to have multiple orgasms. I’m not that lucky.