The Mobster's Whore Ch. 04

It's been three days since I've seen her.

Three, long days since she's set foot in my apartment and stood before me in that lace slip I'd bought for her.

Three fucking days that she's refused to come up to my apartment despite my sending Hunter down there to bring her to me.

At first I thought she was trying to make some kind of point about the way I'd kicked her out, by denying me what we both knew I needed from her.

So I'd let her have that one night, give her a chance to cool off before she returns the next night, dressed appropriately in the burgundy set that had been altered just for her, complete with garter and stockings.

But no.

She'd chosen to leave her apartment altogether. Dinner with some of the other girls, Mona had explained quietly.

"Is this the kind of establishment where we just let the girls go out when they please, Mona? Is it?"

She blinked as if I'd gone insane, opening and closing her mouth as if she wasn't sure what to say to me. I'd stormed off, too irritated and frustrated to wait for a response from her.

By the time the girls made their way back home, they were so drunk, they were stumbling in the lobby, screaming and giggling like a couple of sorority girls.

Thank fuck none of the clients were still around by then. Considering the amount of noise they were making, they would have been displeased, to say the least.

Mona knows I want this to be a classy, discreet establishment, and I'd yelled at her for nearly an hour about how inappropriate the girls' behaviour had been.

She nodded dutifully every now and then, her eyes downcast while I paced in front of her, listing all the changes that were to be.

After kicking her out, Hunter had entered, and gently reminded me of the Miami trip scheduled for the end of the week. A few of my business associates were interested in branching out, expanding on our territory, so to speak.

But now I just felt like I was walking into some kind of trap, led blindly by the very people who pretended to be my allies while secretly plotting my downfall behind closed doors.

Nonetheless, I had agreed to go to ward off suspicion. Until Avery unmasked the people behind the breech in my security, I had to pretend I had no idea I was being watched.

Which she hadn't yet, because we were waiting for all that damn equipment to be delivered.

I couldn't go about my usual business because of the feds...

I couldn't even distract myself with fucking...

Shit.

I sent Hunter to her apartment last night, with the very same box he'd been holding two nights before.

She was at her apartment then, fortunately, but she'd purposely ignored the knocking and the pounding until Hunter had left.

I watched her boil water for tea, then disappear into her room before closing the door soundly behind her.

As if she knew I was fucking watching her.

That had pissed me off so much, I'd thrown the tablet into the wall, then stormed out of my bedroom with every intention of dragging her back here kicking and screaming.

It was only when I stepped out the door, fuming and seeing red, that I'd stopped to consider what I was about to do.

I was a really shitty human being, given that I didn't care about anybody but myself and killed anyone who got in my way, but forcing myself on a woman wasn't something I'd ever done.

Avery had always consented to whatever I did to her, always ready and wet for me. Eager to obey, submitting to me without hesitation.

Did I really want to destroy that dynamic between us? Did I want to be someone she was scared of, someone she was terrified to be around for fear that I might do something she didn't consent to?

What made her such a delight was the fact that she agreed so readily to the dirty shit I wanted. That she enjoyed herself - quite thoroughly - despite the various bruises and scars all over her body.

I clenched my fists and inhaled deeply, counting down from hundred until I was calm enough to go back inside and slam the door shut.

So, when I woke up this morning, I was determined not to let thoughts of Avery consume my every waking moment. I was going to go about my day the way I always did, and focus my attention on running the city.

My plan works out pretty well.

I'm busy all day, negotiating deals, greasing a few palms, making several payments, meeting with the mayor about the next election, then my lawyers to discuss how far we were in getting my case thrown out.

Close, they said, since neither the cops nor the feds could find anything concrete tying me to any of the crimes they claim I committed. Everything was circumstantial, at best.

Overall, a pretty damn good day.

But as soon as I get back, any semblance of peace I'd managed to gather throughout the day is destroyed when I find a brand new tablet on my kitchen counter.

Hunter has set up the feed so I have eyes on Avery again. The quality is even better, and I wonder if he replaced the cameras in her bedroom so I could see everything in even better detail, the bastard.

I pour myself a bit of bourbon, then take a seat on my favourite armchair while I watch her get ready for bed.

She changes into a t-shirt after the shower, and begins to moisturise her face and arms slowly, her manicured fingers moving sensually over her skin. I watch her tie her hair up before turning off all the lights in the room and getting into bed.

She tosses around for the first few minutes, and I feel a bit of pleasure at this, since I'm not the only one whose thoughts are running rampant.

I freeze, glass halfway to my mouth when she pushes the sheets away from her body and raises the hem of her shirt above her breasts.

She bends her knees, then spreads them far enough so she could slip one of her hands between her thighs. I toss the contents of my glass down my throat when she slides her fingers into her pussy, gasping delicately at the sensations, then lubricating her clit.

My nostrils flare, and I wish I was in that room with her so I could inhale the scent of her arousal, before diving face first between her legs.

Her other hand squeezes her tits, pinching and twisting her nipples as her eyes flutter closed.

I stare, breath quickening, when she moans and lifts her hips in desperation as she chases her orgasm. I turn up the volume until she's all I can hear, and I'm holding onto that tablet like it's a damn lifeline.

I curse profusely when she cries out, envying her fingers because they have the pleasure of being inside her pussy instead of my cock.

She sighs with contentment, and reaches for the sheets to cover her bare legs. What kills me, and nearly sends me running for the door, is the way she stares at her wet fingers with interest, before putting them into her mouth.

I groan in pain when she starts to suck on them, her tongue lapping up her cum like cream. Before she has the chance to do anything that might push me over the edge, I toss the tablet back on the table beside me and disappear into my bedroom, where I strip down to nothing.

I contemplate getting into bed without a shower, but decide I need to wash the day of my skin first. I turn the tap on, leaving the temperature at cold so I could try and calm my raging hard-on.

After about twenty minutes, my erection has softened slightly, but it's still hard enough to hurt.

I give up and turn the shower off, resigned to another long night without release. I wonder how I had gone so long without a good fuck if three days could have me this tense.

I brush my teeth while I dry off, then grab a pair of boxers and slip under my sheets, praying for sleep to come.

But it doesn't.

Not for hours.

All I can think about is Avery, and her fucking pussy.

Wet, hot, tight.

The way her walls spread apart when I push inside her, and damn it, how turned on she gets when I simply look at her.

Fuck.

My eyes snap open when my ears start ringing with the sound of her moans, and I swear I can hear them in my room.

My brain conjures images of her in my bed, kneeling on all fours while I fuck the shit out of her.

Avery, with her legs spread wide for me, my face buried in her pussy while she squeezes her tits.

Avery, fucking Avery, straddling me while she rides my cock, her hair wild and tousled with my hand around her throat, choking her, then slapping her beautiful face each time she dares to look away from me.

Avery, with her haunting eyes, her addictive pussy and her lack of inhibitions, taunting me from several floors away by daring to touch herself when I felt like this...

Fuck!

So can you blame me for waking up in the middle of the night, leaving the door to my apartment wide open and getting on the elevator to her floor?

Am I crazy for forcing Mona to hand me the spare keys to Avery's apartment and marching all the way there with a cock hard enough to cut glass?

Is it insane that I use those very keys to enter her apartment while Avery sleeps, then lock the door behind me so nobody disturbs us?

Maybe, just a little, but my patience has run its course.

I push open the door of her bedroom, and I'm pleasantly surprised to find her still asleep in her bed. She's laying on her left side, facing the door, her hands balled into tiny fists beside her head while she quietly breathes in and out.

This gives me pause, and I gently shut the door behind me without taking my eyes off of her.

She's wearing what I see is actually a cotton nightgown with some cartoon print on the front. Her curls are tied in a messy bun on top of her head, her legs covered by the sheet on her bed.

The bruises on her skin aren't as vivid today, but they have turned an alarming shade of purple, with a tinge of green around them.

Yes, I should feel ashamed for hurting her in this way, for leaving handprints and indents all over her skin, but I couldn't.

Not when she moaned the way she did, with her nails digging into my flesh like she couldn't get enough of me.

My god, the way her walls clenched around me when I fucked her, how could I not go crazy when she reacted like that?

I take a seat in the small chair in her room, leaning back so I can watch her closer. A weird feeling starts gnawing at my insides, the same one I'd felt last night, that told me this wasn't just about using her to relieve myself anymore.

There was a need now, barbaric and intense, that was meant only for her. It was obvious I couldn't control it, no matter how hard I tried, and it was so extreme, I couldn't even go a day without thinking about her.

She stirs, frowning delicately before moving her head a little closer to her chest, as if to hide her face from me. Her breathing changes, growing shallower the longer I stare, and then she rolls onto her back, her legs straightening and spreading a little under the covers.

Her hands are still balled into little fists, with each one on either side of her head. She moans, frowns, then moans again. A sharp intake of breath, and I smile when I realise she's having a dirty, dirty dream.

Her lips move as she tries to talk in her sleep, and my cock twitches, throbs at the sight of her like this.

She inhales deeply, then fidgets, her head turning this way and that. She wakes with a loud gasp, her eyes snapping open to stare at the ceiling.

Her breathing is shallow, quick, and I don't need to hear her heart to know it's pounding in her chest.

"Bad dream?"

She screams, and sits up in her bed, immediately reaching for the light on the bedside cabinet and turning it on so she could see me.

"What the fuck! Oh my god, what the fuck are you even doing here?" she shrieks, her eyes wide and frightened in her face.

I don't say anything in response to that, choosing to wait for her to calm down so she could figure it out for herself.

"What's wrong with you?" she demands, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her fingers.

"Well, lately, I find myself sexually frustrated and angry because my favourite whore won't let me fuck her."

She sighs, tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ears, and looking at me without the haze of slumber in her eyes.

Her face is slightly swollen from sleep, and her lips are larger than usual because of it. Her eyes are impossibly bigger, and my anger towards her melts a fraction.

Just a fraction.

"What did you think would happen after you kicked me out the way you did?" she asks, her voice soft.

"I expect you to live up to your end of the bargain, Avery. You live, as long as you stay useful."

She scoffs, then folds her arms over her chest.

"I'm not the only whore living in this building. And as for the information you want, I'm waiting on the equipment I asked Hunter to order for me."

"If I wanted to fuck the others, I would've done that already."

She's quiet for a while, taking in my words. I wonder then if she's going to bring up that little moment we had that night, but she chooses to go in a different direction instead.

"Maybe you should. You have dozens of women living under your roof, most of whom would trample over each other at the chance to fuck you."

"Why do that when I can just fuck you?"

"You can't. Not anymore."

"Why not?"

"You know very well why, you asshole."

A pause.

"Watch your fucking mouth."

She clamps her lips shut, but keeps her eyes locked on mine, the gesture defiant. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately, for some reason.

"Don't think I won't kick you out of here just because I like the way your pussy feels around my cock," I warn her.

"Your threats aren't as terrifying if you don't actually follow through on them. If you were going to do something, you would have done it already."

She blinks, as if surprised at herself for what she's just said, but we both know that she's right. There was no part of me that wanted to kick her out or kill her, but she didn't have to know that.

"Is that something you want? Do you want me to go ahead and kill you right here?" I ask, lowering my voice for her benefit.

"I guess you could. You could take another whore after me, and then kill her too, eventually. At some point, though, the feds are going to start noticing."

It's the wrong thing to say, and she knows it. The last thing I wanted was to be reminded of everything that was going on around me, especially when I was with her.

What had been witty banter just seconds before, was now another line crossed in the sand. But I am grateful for it, because this gives me an excuse to cease talking and touch her.

"Oh, Avery. And you were doing so well," I admonish, shaking my head slowly.

She swallows, her eyes wide with sudden alarm at my tone, darting between my own as if she could read my thoughts.

She gasps when I stand, her eyes lowering to my sides, where my fists are clenching and unclenching with the need to touch her. She starts to scoot back against the headboard, pulling her legs closer to her body for protection.

I take a few steps towards her, yanking at the sheets to reveal her bare legs. I lean forward on the bed and grab one of her ankles, which makes her scream in surprise.

I clutch the other ankle and pull her towards the foot of the bed, where I'm kneeling, my cock leaking precum in anticipation. She kicks at me feebly, but her struggles are pointless, useless against my strength.

I freeze from astonishment when she pulls out a gun and points it at me.

I pause, my hands still curled around her delicate ankles, eyes locked on hers.

She's breathing heavily, her pulse racing. But her hands are steady, her finger hovering over the trigger as if she's ready to pull it if I did anything she didn't like.

"Let go of me. Right now."

"You need to put that fucking gun down before I take this as a serious threat against my life," I reply, my voice tight.

She shakes her head, and clicks the safety off to emphasize how serious she is. Any normal man would let go of her at this point, then leave the room as quickly as possible to avoid getting shot.

But I'm the furthest thing from normal. If anything, the danger this situation presents, the warning in her eyes, has the complete opposite effect on me.

My cock, which was already hard before, turns to stone in my boxers. I'm so turned on by this, I'm in pain from it.

I tighten my grip on her ankles, and she pushes the muzzle into my skin, where I feel it dig into my forehead.

"I swear to God I'll shoot if you don't let me go."

A grin, maniacal and twisted, spreads across my face and I chuckle while her eyes widen in bemusement.

I trail my hands up her calves, and she does nothing to stop me from grabbing at her knees and pulling her even closer.

"Now that we've established you're not going to use that gun, I suggest you put it down before you hurt yourself, little one."

Avery stares at me as if I'm truly, completely insane, but she clicks the safety back on and slowly lowers the gun, placing it beside her on the bed, her eyes never leaving mine.

I sit on my heels, and pull her until she's in my lap, legs wrapped around my waist. I reward her obedience by grabbing hold of her ass, and adjusting her body so my cock is pressed against her open slit. I bite down on her lip, pulling at it with my teeth until she's close enough for me to kiss her.

There's no point easing into it, no point pretending that this kiss is meant as any kind of romantic gesture.

It's meant to dominate, to reassert my control over her, and remind her to do as she is told.

To obey my commands.

To suck and ride and fuck my cock when I demand it.

She parts her lips in response and I force my tongue into her mouth, coaxing hers out so I could bite and suck on it. She moans, bending to my directions and grinding against my erection as her own need, her own selfish desires, stir her blood and set her body on fire.

She grabs at my hair, my jaw, cupping my face in an attempt to get more of me than what I was giving her.

I lift us up just high enough to lower my boxers and free my cock, then guide the head back to her drenched slit.

She moans, tearing her lips off of mine when I lower her back onto my cock, resuming my previous position as I did so.

"Wait, wait," she says, more to herself than me, trying to pull away.

I crash my lips against hers again, and hold her in place so I can fit the rest of my cock inside her. She cries out, her nails digging into my bare shoulders, forcing a deep groan from me.

"I wasn't... wasn't supposed to let this happen again," she whispers, her eyes flicking closed for a second.

I lower my lips to her neck, biting and sucking on her sensitive skin, leaving fresh bruises even as I start to lift her off my cock.

"Wait, no..."

"Shut the fuck up, Avery."

I nip at the corner of her lips in warning, informing her as gently as I can that there's no way in hell I'm pulling out when her cunt is clenching around me like this.

I'm desperate to get my mouth on her tits, and I can't do that without pausing to remove her nightgown. I hesitate as I weigh my options, but she makes the decision for me when she tightens her hold around my waist and sinks herself on my shaft.

We both groan with pleasure, and I bury my face in the crook of her neck, lifting her, fucking her deep and hard and slow.

Because I want this one to last.

Avery's clearly forgotten who the fuck I am, and I won't hesitate to remind her who she's dealing with. I want to burn this fuck into the deepest recesses of her mind, until all she can think about, all she can remember, is me.

Me, licking up her neck to the back of her ear, nipping at the soft shell as I growl my need for her.

Me, holding her tight against me while she gushes and spasms, covering us both with her cum.

Me, ramming into her relentlessly, forcibly bringing out the moans she's trying to keep from me.