Page 150 of The Spy
He held me tight as we rode the wave, our moans deepening with each soul-searing thrust. Every inch of me trembled in anticipation of the orgasm that was building inside me.
The pleasure coiled deeper and tighter until, with one final push, he sent me into oblivion, my scream echoing in the room as my body convulsed around his in pure ecstasy.
Seconds later he followed me over the edge, his deep groan of release filling me with warmth. I felt the heat of his cum jetting inside me, branding me as his.
When we finally came down from our high, Gabe held me tightly, murmuring words of love against my skin until sleep claimed us both.
47
Gabe
I could do this. How hard could it be?
Apparently, pretty fucking hard. We were on a pickup mission for Gregory Funk, a simple catch and release. We had exactly twelve hours to pick him up, bring him in, and question him before his boss, Raymund De Marco, a level-three threat, was back in town. If we did our job right, we could flip him, get intel, and bring down De Marco's whole organization. Funk was a key piece. He was not only De Marco’s transporter but one of his most trusted advisors. A friend from childhood. The only difference between this and dozens of other missions we’d done just like it was that I wasn’t in command.
You knew it would come to this.
Yes, I had known. And it was fine.
At the bar in Prague, we all exited the van.
“Spy, come in.”
“I’m in position.”
"Great. King?"
I kept wondering if Lachlan would get off on hearing Saff call him King. But Lachlan was doing his job. "In position."
Tabs sat at one of the tables, nursing a drink. Saint was pretending to hit on a couple of girls by the door. He was loud and boisterous, providing good deflection and cover.
When Funk came into the bar, Saff gave us all the warning. "Target is in play. I repeat, target is in play."
Funk took a seat about two stools away from me.
Lachlan ran in on cue. He bumped into him, spilling all over the bar in front of him and Funk, who jumped to his feet. "What the fuck, mate? Watch where you're fucking going."
Lachlan slobbered all over him. "Uh, sorry."
Funk scooted down one seat. I gave him a nod. "Rough luck."
"Fucking pissed geezer."
I nodded. "What can I say? Some idiots just can't hold their liquor."
Lock bumped me from behind as he moved past, having already lifted Funk's wallet. I almost smirked as he moved by.
For the next twenty minutes, I had to listen to Funk mouth off about just about everything from politics to women.
All the while, he was only slowly nursing his drink. I was going to have to go to plan B if he didn't drink a little quicker. The bartender wasn't one of ours, but was on loan from another agency, as were the gaggle of girls. We'd intermixed our people with the natural partygoers.
When Funk headed for the loo, I noticed his drink was only two-thirds gone. Was that enough to affect him? Into my coms, I muttered, "He barely touched his drink. We're going to have to sedate him in the loo."
Saint groaned. "Oh, fucking hell, have you seen the state of the loo?"
I chuckled under my breath. "Sorry, you're up, mate."
I followed behind Funk. Saint met me at the cross point in the hallway. I gave him a nod. In my coms, my sister's voice was clear. "Spy, silent and deadly. We don't want anyone asking questions."
