[MATURE CONTENT] "He can't make your body feel the way I can," he breathed, proving his point with a simple flick of his finger as I almost came right then and there. I forced myself to say, "I love him." "No, you don't," he said, easily. "And even if you were with him, you wouldn't be able to go a day without my touch." "You're wrong." He rammed his finger up into me. I was forced to hold onto him to keep steady, my chest heaving against his as I desperately tried to control myself. Those dark eyes stared into my own with amusement, eyebrow cocking as if asking, 'you sure about that?' His lips brushed mine, and I had to resist the temptation to push mine into his. Then they were at my ear, warm and hot and a reminder to the excruciating pleasure he could make me feel with just his mouth. "Now let's show that lover boy of yours just what it sounds like to make you come undone."

[MATURE CONTENT] His hands trailed lightly across my skin, tender and somewhat cautious. He gave me opportunity to pull away and refuse what he was silently promising with his inferno touches. God, if only he knew the last thing I would do would be to refuse him. "Amara," his tongue seemed to tease my name as it rolled off it, kneading and toying with each syllable. "Do you realise the strain I have to put myself under to be able to look at you without just fucking you senseless on this desk?" My throat was hoarse. I looked at the desk in question, likely in part disbelief and part desire. "But what if someone comes in?" He smirked in amusement, thumb running over my thin blouse. My body reacted immediately: nipple hardening under his touch. He looked down at me, eyes smothered in lust. "Then they'll see what it means for a woman to experience proper, all-consuming, mind-numbing pleasure."

"I thought we agreed on a mutual day of rest?" His large body was within inches of hers, their chests brushing with each breath. "Who ordered the hit?" He growled out and Omisha rolled her eyes. It was an unspoken rule to carry that kind of information to your grave- a rule she was certain Thorn knew. "And here I was thinking you were sort of smart." She remarked as she pressed the auto start button on her key fob. Thorn's hand roughly grabbed her arm and pushed her against her car, her fresh sutures protesting. "Look, if we're not fucking you have to stop man handling me." She groaned as his grip tightened effectively pushing her wound tighter against the car. "Would you be serious for two seconds?" He growled as he angrily searched her eyes for an ounce of information. ------ When an assassin's next hit is a widely feared hitman you'd expect plenty of bloodshed not a toxic romance. *Warning very graphic scenes of violence, death and sex* Full description inside!

"I COULDN'T HAVE HIM AND IT JUST MADE ME WANT HIM MORE." Beatrice Walsh was the epitome of a good girl. She had the best grades, the best manners and was well-dressed. She had a reputation to keep-- The Good Girl of Rolling Falls. Ace Callahan was the infamous bad boy. He smirked, he talked back, he smoke and he wore mostly black. He also had a reputation to keep-- The Bad Boy of Rolling Falls. What happens when on that fateful day of October 31st, they run into each other. Ace can't seem to keep his eyes off of her and Beatrice can't seem to shake his beautiful, grey eyes. *MATURE*