He ground his hips onto her core and tightened his grip both on her neck and her thigh. "They're not going to find out. Like how no one's going to find out about us. Are they?" He growled into her ear.
Courtney rubbed the hand that was around her ne...
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MÉLISSANDRE REMOVED HER HEELS AS SOON AS SHE WALKED THROUGH THE DOOR. THE CHANDELIER HUNG DOWN IN THE ENTRANCE AND THE CRYSTALS SHIMMERED IN THE SUNLIGHT.
Her bag dropped to the floor as she loosened the scarf around her neck as she made her way through the hallway up to the stairs. Mélissandre paused on the stone floor when she felt a breeze brush her fringe out of place.
Mélissandre reached her hand down her thigh, under her skirt, to retrieve the knife secured in her garter belt. She was ready to attack but she wasn't quick enough.
Her armed hand was clutched in a firm grasp and she was forced against the cold wall. With her free arm, she pulled out a gun and positioned it on the intruder's temple.
"I pay you to kill, Samuel. Not to get killed," Mélissandre teased him.
"I dare you to shoot me." His structural features were stiff and showed no sign of expression. Samuel Humphries was a mere shadow to the rest of the world. Very few knew his name, very few knew his profession.
Mélissandre studied his blue eyes and moved the pistol away from his head to challenge him. She aimed to the left of them and pulled the trigger, expecting to see a smashed vase.
The sound of bullets ricocheted on the floor as they freefell from his hand and the vase remained intact.
"I'd like to say that I'm very good at my job ma'am," Samuel smirked and forced her to drop the knife. "When is the target home?"
"Change of plans. We'll eliminate the target another day, I'm busy tonight," Mélissandre dropped the gun and leaned on the wall, trapped by Samuel's arm.
He glided his fingertips on her inner thigh, up her skirt to her covered core and applied slight pressure. "Busy with me?" Samuel's fingers slowly circled her and she was becoming impatient.
Mélissandre shook her head in response, deciding not to trust her voice as she knew all that would come out would be a breathy moan mixed with words. Samuel removed his hand and trailed it down from her neck, down the middle of her chest and toyed with the button on her blouse.
"It seems that I'm on a schedule so I'll ask again," he untied the band in her hair and her hair fell onto her back. Samuel pushed some strands behind her ear and leaned in close to whisper, "When is the target home?"
"Eight."
He glanced down at his watch, "We've got three and a half hours."
Mélissandre jumped up on Samuel, wrapping her legs around his waist and grabbed his face. Their lips locked, tongues entered each other's mouth and hair was being tugged like there was no tomorrow.
Halfway up the stairs, Samuel's blazer, shirt and tie had vanished. Mélissandre's scarf, blouse and bra were no longer on her body. Her legs tightened around him when his hips ground into her.
