Page 72 of The Hitman’s Final Job

“I misunderstood.”

He laughs, and my punishment for moving feels like a reward when he slaps my ass, but then his tongue runs from my balls all the way up to my hole, where he proceeds to kiss and lick me like I’m the best dessert he’s ever had.

I try to see behind me, but I’m no longer in charge of my body. All I can do is feel.

One finger. Two fingers.

“Hurry up,” I beg.

“Be patient.” That’s easy for him to say, but then he removes his fingers and replaces them with his dick, and I stop being able to form words.

He moves slowly at first. When I push back to meet him, he slaps my ass again, and then the kitchen fills up with the sound of Vaughn fucking me into his kitchen table.

I try to keep my orgasm at bay, to make it last. If I don’t touch myself, I’ll stay in limbo forever. Except Vaughn has other plans. He pulls all the way out and then pushes in until he fills me up in one go. He does it again and again, and with each time I feel closer and closer to the point of no return.

I’m not even touching my cock. I feel the moment Vaughn loses control, the sounds he makes, his hands gripping my hips, and I hold onto the edge of the table and let him have it.

For a moment I think I’m going to come too, but it doesn’t happen. I’ve leaked plenty of precum onto the floor, but I’m still hard. Still desperate.

Vaughn pulls out of me gently and turns me around.

“Your turn,” he says. “I want you to fuck me.” A sentence I did not expect from this man.

He flips us around and takes my place at the edge of the table. I maneuver myself between his legs, reaching for the lube to slick up my cock.

I stop, surprised, when I’m about to use the lube on him.

“Vaughn?”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve been wearing a plug all this time?”

I meet his eyes, which are filled with pure lust and want even though he’s just come.

“I need you to fuck me as hard as you can, Silas. Take what you need. Everything you need.”

My hands shake as I carefully remove the plug and set it aside, then I give my cock a couple of strokes and line it up with his hole.

Vaughn’s gasp as I fill him is a sound I will never forget for the rest of my life.

“I wish I could go slow, but you feel so fucking good and hot and⁠—”

“Give me everything, Silas. I need it.”

I am wound so tight from everything that’s come before. His mouth and his hands and his heated gaze when he turned me over. There’s no going slow, just me and him in the kitchen in the morning light, and I give him exactly what he asked for.

He cries out, and I hold his hips, but I don’t stop because he doesn’t want me to.

When I come, it’s with his name on my lips and my eyes on his, both of us shaking. I look down and see a little bit of cum on his stomach. Even though he didn’t get hard, he got to come again.

We stay there for a moment, not moving, just existing in each other.

“I think,” he says, practically out of breath, “the kitchen is well and truly christened.”

I laugh. “Yeah, but we still have the living room and the gard⁠—”

“We’re not having sex in the vegetable garden.”