The International Assassin A Sexy Times Crime Thriller by Adele Asher

legs I let out a giggle of delight before locking him into a long deep French kiss. While I would normally indulge in an extended bout of foreplay and other delights being our first time I just wanted to get on to the main event. I rolled off Nick and lay alongside him and gave him a hooker look.
    “Let’s see what you’ve got,” I said with a dirty smirk. 
    “Okay then…” he replied and moved on top of me. As he entered me we let out a joint delighted gasp of happiness. 
    The next two or so hours went by in a blur of touching, kissing and sexual bliss. We did missionary, spoons and reverse cowgirl. Me on top, him on top and doggy style. My mother would be appalled by our activities that would put a high-class call girl to shame. After Nick finally came I felt like I had spent eight hours in the gym. He collapsed exhausted on top of me burying his happy face in the pillow next to me.
    “Good God Nicky . Are you on Viagra?” I asked exhausted.
    “No,” he replied out of breath.
    “Amphetamines?”
    “No.”
    “I’m not going to be able to walk for a week,” I told him.
    “Sorry,” he laughed and kissed my ear playfully.
    “Don’t be. That was incredible. When do we get married?” I toyed with his hair as I tried to catch my breath. Nick went to move off me but I clenched my arms round him. “No, stay just there,” I told him cuddling him. Remembering the cold loneliness of my night in the dirty cell being in a warm comfy bed with that lovely post-sex feeling of comforting endorphins rushing round my body I just wanted to hold him tight and feel him inside me. “You know I’d have shagged you even if you hadn’t just got me out of prison?”
    “That’s good to know.”
    “Well it’s important. I didn’t just shag you because you got me out of there.”
    “And I didn’t just get you out of prison so I could shag you.”
    “So I think we’ve established I’d have shagged you anyway and you’d have shagged me anyway and the whole arrest thing didn’t come into it.”
    “That about summarises it,” said Nick still out of breath. 
    Poor boy sounded exhausted. I toyed his hair with my fingers.
    “Kiss me,” I asked him and he duly obliged. We smiled at each other with that dopey smile lovers give each other after exchanging bodily fluids and orgasms.
    “God you’re beautiful,” he told me.
    “Are you just saying that because you’ve got your fuckstick inside me?” I replied.
    “No, I’m saying that because you are beautiful.”
    “We’re going to fall in love aren’t we?”
    “Yes, I think we probably are.” Nick replied.
    “And would that be a good thing for you?”
    “Yes it probably would.”
    “And would it be a good thing for me?”
    “I hope so.”
    “I hope so too.”
    I finally let him free and we finished off the champagne before settling down. I wrapped myself around him and squeezed his hand tight. I felt safe with Nick in a way I never did with Johnny.
    After my uncomfortable night in the cells and our extensive sexual exertions it didn’t take long to fall asleep and I slept solidly through the entire night until the morning light started to creep through the gaps in the wooden venetian blinds covering the window. Nick was still asleep, no doubt exhausted after his marathon shagging session so I huddled up to him for warmth and slept through until lunchtime when I felt him finally stir awake. 
    “Hey you,” he said sleepily and gave me a delightful morning kiss. “How did you sleep?”
    “A lot better than the previous night.”
    “So about last night…” he said with a sheepish look. I put a finger on his lips to silence him before he said anything more.
    “You know you wanted to…”
    “Yes…”
    “Then why say any more?”
    Sex like killing someone is one of life’s guilty pleasures. We are taught that it’s something wrong even when it isn’t therefore we should feel bad about enjoying it. I’m quite selective about who I choose to have