Quicksand

" For God's sake, in all my years as an assassin, I've never experienced shaky hands. I've been the ruthless bitch, you know, enjoying the sight of fresh blood. " leaning down further against the dilapidated wall, I trying to camouflage, " I'm a bloody professional, for crying out loud! What's happening to me now? "

" Shut up! " he whispered, his focus solely on the target.

Sorry, man but my nerves are wrecked!

" Or maybe it's the anxiety. I've been irregular with my medication lately. Also, there's the fact that this operation is quite dangerous and fucking thrilloblastic even for a cold hearted bitch like me. Yes! That must be it. " I tugged at his sleeve with my sweaty hands, " What's your opini- "

I didn't get to complete my sentence though.

One of his calloused hand closed around my neck. The scent of his alluring cologne wafted up, teasing my senses as his lips hovered mere inches from mine.

" Shut the fuck up by yourself, or I'll make you- " his fingers tightened slightly, " -with my cock. " the words, send chills straight to my deprived kitty.

My tongue darted out to wet my lips, as I tried hard to mask my arousal under sassy remarks and attitude.

Loosening myself from his hold, I smiled at him; a smile that is far more intense than the sexual tension brewing between us, " What about I keep my mouth shut like your good girl, and then you reward me with your cock? "

His eyes flashed, as if weighing his options. Then, with a low groan, he seized my ponytail in a brutal grip, his fingers twisting in the strands. His breath, hot against my mouth, as he licked the seam of my lips.

" Fair enough. "