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Are her pretty thighs clenching? Is she wet for me? Is she desperate to spring out of there like a jack in the box and take me for herself, orwill that deadly resolve of hers keep her hidden?

She pants with desperation from within that box, and I take it to the next level as I clutch my cock tighter and let out a deep, rumbly groan. “Fuck, Firecracker.”

The smallest squeak comes from the box, and I don’t know how the fuck I manage to keep the grin off my face. I pick up the pace, driving myself wild with need, just knowing her greedy little stare is locked on me . . .

I suck in a sharp breath, ready to fucking explode. Resisting the urge to spring off this fucking bed and race to her is killing me. I’m desperate to bury every inch inside her, to give her everything she needs and more, to taste her, fill her, make her scream my fucking name until she’s coming on my cock.

I don’t stop working myself faster and harder, my muscles constricting as the red-hot pleasure becomes too much to bear, and as a sharp breath escapes my lips, I detonate, shooting hot, powerful spurts of cum against my abs.

“Fuuuuck,” I hiss, my chest heaving with heavy breaths as I come back to earth.

My body relaxes against the headboard, and I release my grasp on my cock before finally making my way back into the bathroom and cleaning myself up, all while I listen to the subtle sound of Kiara’s panting.

I’ve gotta give it to her. I thought she’d crack for sure. But if she truly is an assassin, then I need to up my game. Who knows what kindof training she has. I’m sure what I just put her through was nothing in comparison to what she’s capable of withstanding, but that doesn’t make it any less fun. But on the off chance that all of this truly is a coincidence and she really is just a travel blogger, then I have seriously underestimated her level of resistance. And in that case, I haven’t got a clue who I’m up against.

After dressing in a pair of shorts, I grab my phone to start working through any communication I might have missed from my agency, and as I walk out to my living room, I think better of it. Why not work from my bed tonight? Besides, if Kiara is going to have the balls to sneak into my apartment, then she’s going to suffer in the box for as long as it takes for her to break.

I work for an hour, and as the clock ticks closer to dinnertime, I order something to eat, and before I know it, the delivery driver is buzzing my apartment to get in.

After eating, I catch up on a few episodes of my latest binge watch, and as it creeps closer to midnight, I finally let her off the hook. The TV I left on gives her enough background noise to escape, and I take my ass to sleep, more than impressed with her commitment to the cause.

CHAPTER 15

KIARA

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

What the hell was I thinking, scrambling into this goddamn box? Not only am I squished up against fourteen overly tangled phone and laptop chargers, an empty bottle of cologne that he couldn’t possibly have thrown away before he packed, and what could only be described as a snowsuit from the 70s, but I’m also hungry, horny, and tired.

It’s got to be well after one in the morning by now, and he’s been playing old episodes ofGame of Thronesfor the past five hours, hearing the Starks declare thatwinter is coming. But shit, at least something is coming around here, because God knows I’m not.

In total, I think I’ve been in here for at least seven hours. SEVEN FUCKING HOURS? And that’s after having to watch as the mostgloriously hung man on the planet worked his cock like a fucking magician. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been witness to more than my fair share of men jerking off, some welcome, others not so much, but nothing could ever compare to what I just saw. It was rapturous, breathtaking beyond belief.

The way he worked his fists up and down that thick cock, and shit, from the angle I was taking it in . . . Fuck me. I got it all, and if I weren’t so gobsmacked by the sight, I would have raced in there at the very last moment just to capture a face shot.

Is that too much? Yeah, it’s too much. But I’ve said it now, and there’s no take-backs. I might as well own it.

I, Kiara St. James, have been frothing at the mouth in this cardboard box for seven straight hours, desperately wishing that one day, I might be so lucky to receive nothing less than a cum shot right to the face by none other than Raiden Kane.

Okay. It’s official. I’m a whore for this man. A greedy, desperate whore with absolutely no shame, but I’ll die before I ever let him know it.

Hearing his soft, repetitive breaths, I decide he’s finally been asleep long enough for me to sneak out of this cramped box. I don’t waste a single moment, pressing my hands up against the folded tabs and slowly pushing them open.

With freedom only a breath away, I get to my feet and carefully climb out of the box before dropping straight to the ground to crawl my ass out of here. Only as my knees hit the floor, I see a full take-out container resting on the ground directly beside the box with a handwritten note scrawled on top.

In case you got hungry working up a sweat while watching me jerk off.

Bet you got wet all up in your tight little box.

Well shit.

He knew I was there the whole damn time. I bet he came out of the shower and figured it out straight away, that big asshole.

Frustration burns bright as it pulses through my veins, feeling as though no matter what I do, I’m always falling five steps behind this guy. It’s as though he can anticipate every move I make. And if he truly were some kind of mastermind assassin, I suppose that wouldn’t be so hard to believe.

Letting out a huff, I get to my feet. There’s no point trying to hide now, and as I turn to take him in, fast asleep on his bed, I can’t help but consider just how easy it would be to strangle him. I could just take his pillow and press it against his face. It would be simple. Clean. I wouldn’t even get blood on my outfit, and then all of my major problems would be dealt with.

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t,” he mumbles, his tone thick with sleep and making my eyes widen with fear, that same racing panic returning tenfold. “Either climb in here and let me fuck you until we’re both utterly spent, or take your tight ass to bed.”