Kingpin

by Lili St. Germain

  ‘You want it here?’ he asked, his voice humming against my soaking pussy as he took his thumb and circled the small opening. A thrill shot through me as his finger gently probed at my ass.

  Oh God, did I want it there.

  ‘Yes,’ I whispered, delighting in the glazed sensation that draped over me, the total submission, the anticipation of what was to come. I tried to relax as he pushed his thumb into my ass, stretching me, opening me up, but I tensed anyway. It was a natural reaction to being entered there.

  ‘Relax,’ Dornan growled, pumping slowly as he placed his mouth back over my swollen clit and sucked. Discomfort became pleasure as I got used to his thumb sliding in and out of my ass, and my nerves started to fray.

  Under his skilled hands, my ass began to burn.

  It was fire and passion and fucking all bound into one ticking time bomb. I didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want him to leave my ass or my pussy as my legs began to shake and I bucked into his tongue faster.

  I thought to reach out and grab his head between my hands, to make sure he finished what he’d started, but he anticipated my move. Before I could thread my hands into his hair and pull him closer into me, he took his finger out, took his mouth away, and stood so fast, the chair behind him flew backwards, crashing onto the tiles.

  ‘Don’t stop,’ I moaned.

  He grabbed my hips roughly, his pants already unbuttoned and his cock standing proudly to attention, the smooth head glistening with pre-come.

  ‘Turn over,’ he growled, picking me up and doing the work himself. My hands and knees smacked against the table as I pressed my ass backwards into him, looking back and watching as he pumped his rock-hard cock in his palm.

  Ice cubes clinked again, and I gasped as I felt the cold breach my pussy again. A finger pushed one ice cube inside me, then another, until it was all I could do not to scream.

  My skin broke out in goosebumps as my teeth began to chatter; it felt like I was simultaneously being frozen and set on fire from within.

  I felt the head of his dick trail up and down my pussy, pushing gently, but not enough to gain purchase. I whimpered, pressing back into him, as my hand went to my clit and started circling it. I gasped when he fisted a handful of my hair and pulled.

  ‘You want to come?’ he asked, tugging on my hair so he could speak into my ear.

  ‘Yes,’ I cried, dropping my hand back onto the table to balance myself.

  ‘The only way you’re coming,’ he growled, pressing his cock against me, ‘is with my dick in your ass.’

  Holy fucking Christ, those words were the biggest turn on.

  ‘Do you want me to fuck your ass?’ he asked, continuing to press against it.

  ‘Yes,’ I moaned, pushing back into him. ‘Please.’

  I braced myself as Dornan released my hair, his hand going to my hip as he coated the head of his dick with my slickness. Then, wet and swollen, he pushed against my tight hole. It burned a little, but it felt so fucking good.

  ‘Relax,’ he urged, one hand coming around to rub my clit. I did, letting myself melt back into him, my ass wanting to resist the breach. I concentrated on stilling that urge to tense, and his dick pushed into my ass.

  I moaned loudly, swearing under my breath as he pulled back and sank into me, over and over again. His fingers on my clit, together with his dick in my ass coupled together to form an orgasm that ripped through me like fire and ice.

  I screamed. Dornan. I’m pretty sure I screamed his name over and over again, even as he continued to fuck me. As I came back down to earth, the aftershocks of my climax made every touch agonising. He didn’t stop, though, driving into me relentlessly. I felt his body tense up as he grew even harder, and then he was coming inside me, his chest curled over me as he sank his teeth into the tender flesh of my back.

  ‘Missed you too,’ he murmured against my skin, the indents where his teeth had pierced my flesh humming with a pleasant pain.

  Afterwards, we showered, holding each other as warm water washed us clean. We didn’t speak.

  We didn’t need to.

  He was here. That was all that mattered. And I intended to drink in every single moment of our time together.

  When I had dried off and dressed, I poured myself a glass of red wine and headed out to the balcony, wearing one of Dornan’s shirts. It was like a dress on me, but I liked the way it wrapped me up in him, even when he wasn’t with me. It was late afternoon, and the sun was just reaching that low point in the sky where it shone directly into the apartment. I closed my eyes, basking in the golden rays, warm against my face as I listened to the waves crash onto the shore below.

  I sensed him behind me before I saw him. I turned my head and opened my eyes to see him standing there in a pair of jeans, no shirt. Even in his forties, and despite the fact that I’d seen him like this countless times over the years, the man was still fucking irresistible.

  He reached a hand behind my ear and then opened his palm in front of my face, a mischievous grin plastered on his face as he held out a coin. ‘Penny for your thoughts?’ he joked.

  I laughed, taking the quarter. ‘I was just thinking.’

  He stood beside me and I turned back to the ocean, the breeze whipping my hair around my face.

  ‘Thinking happy thoughts?’

  ‘You make me happy,’ I said plainly, taking one of his hands between mine and playing with his fingers. They were warm and rough, a working man’s hands.

  Dornan glanced sideways at me, the breeze picking up his hair and making it dance. ‘Are you? Happy?’

  I swallowed thickly as he took his hand away, feeling the smile die on my face as I looked out to the water. I wasn’t happy and I was. Stolen moments, away from everyone else and their demands. In those, I was happy. Outside of that? The nothingness was a yawning chasm. It hurt. It ached.

  ‘I’m happy when I’m with you,’ I said finally. I reached out again and took his large hand in mine, squeezing it tightly.

  ‘You did good with the kid,’ he said, pulling me under his arm.

  It felt safe, here. I felt loved.

  ‘That girl needs a mother, not that fucking thing that pretends to be one,’ Dornan added.

  I shrugged. ‘I didn’t do much,’ I said softly, enjoying the sting of the salt breeze on my bare arms. ‘She wouldn’t even talk to me. I don’t think children like me, somehow.’

  ‘You’d be a good mother,’ Dornan said seriously, drawing me closer.

  And I didn’t mean to, but I froze. I felt my mouth open a little as I screamed inwardly. The mask slipped, just for a second. And in that moment, the man I loved? I hated him.

  ‘What?’ Dornan asked, turning me so we were facing each other, the ocean ebbing and flowing below us, just like it had done for countless years, just like it would keep doing long after we were both bones and ash. In that moment, I felt so inconsequential, so unnecessary, so deprived. Because I was somebody’s mother. And it wasn’t fucking fair.

  It wasn’t Dornan’s fault. He didn’t know. And I would never tell him, not unless Emilio was dead and buried and we were free. The problem was I didn’t even know if Dornan wanted to be free. There were some things we wouldn’t talk about, and his father was one of those things.

  ‘Nothing,’ I replied, feeling my chest tighten.

  You’d be a good mother. He didn’t know the significance of those words, how deep they cut into me, leaving bloodied ribbons of my soul in their wake.

  I had been somebody’s mother, once upon a time. And now, I was nothing. A piece of property. A mistress. A money launderer. A whore.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger and turning my gaze towards his.

  I saw the haunted look in his eyes, like a deer in headlights, about to be slammed. ‘Don’t worry about me,’ I said softly, gripping his wrist tightly. ‘You worry about your kids, okay? I’ll be fine. I’ll be right here.’

  It wasn’t fair of me to ask anything more
of him than I already had. He’d already saved my life, kept me alive, kept me safe. All this time. And he’d saved me from myself on the darkest nights, without even realising it.

  ‘I’ll leave her,’ Dornan blurted out. ‘When they’re grown up. When she can’t control them. I’ll leave her.’

  I stiffened. He’d never said anything remotely like that before. I was his mistress, and nothing more. I knew he loved me. It wasn’t ideal, but it was all he’d ever had to give me, and I had taken it gratefully. Every time I thought of the alternative, I remembered that, even though I felt trapped and smothered, it could always be worse. So. Much. Worse. Emilio could have sold me at that auction nine years ago. And, as Murphy had so chillingly assured me, nobody made it out of that shit alive. If I’d been bought, and used, and raped, I’d be dead by now.

  ‘You don’t have to say that,’ I protested, breaking eye contact. ‘You don’t have to make promises to me, Dornan. I don’t expect them.’

  I thought more about that, turning his words over in my mind. When she can’t control them. An admission of vulnerability from a man like Dornan Ross was a shattering revelation. Was he meaning to say that there was someone even more powerful than the all-powerful Gypsy Brothers and Il Sangue Cartel royalty?

  I fingered the collar on his shirt. ‘Did you love Celia? When you got married?’

  Dornan tensed.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said quickly. ‘You don’t have to answer that.’

  ‘It was a business decision,’ Dornan said, his tone suddenly clipped. I was losing him. I could feel him shutting down right in front of me.

  ‘I spoke to Anthony the other day,’ I said, swiftly changing the subject. Although I despised Dornan’s oldest son, Chad, with a passion reserved for people like Emilio, there was something about Anthony, or ‘Ant’ as everyone called him. I saw his father in him. A tough exterior, but an instinct to protect instead of exploit. Whereas Chad, on the other hand, was just a younger American version of his grandfather, Emilio.

  ‘Yeah?’ Dornan’s pride was evident.

  ‘He’s a good kid.’ I tried to think of something to say about the rest of them and drew a blank.

  ‘He’s smart.’ He smiled proudly, then the smile faded slightly.

  ‘What?’ I asked.

  Dornan shrugged, tucking loose hair behind my ear and giving it a soft, almost playful tug. ‘I wonder what these boys would be like if they had a choice.’

  ‘Everyone has a choice,’ I said.

  Dornan raised his eyebrows. ‘Like you had a choice?’

  ‘I had a choice,’ I said boldly. ‘I chose you. And you chose me.’

  His smile looked pained. ‘I’d spend every moment with you if I could, you know that?’

  I nodded, smiling sadly. I knew that more than I knew anything. It was a truth that burned inside me, kept me going when the demons in my mind tried to convince me otherwise.

  ‘Do you ever think about the future?’ I asked softly.

  ‘Sometimes,’ Dornan replied. Any trace of lightness was gone now, replaced by the weary reality of our collective fates.

  ‘And?’ I pressed.

  He let his hand drop from my face and turned back to the sun, squinting as it slid lower against the orange and blue horizon.

  ‘And it doesn’t do any good,’ he said gruffly. ‘So I think about something else, instead.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said softly. I thought about what he’d said about leaving Celia, about how remote that possibility even was. How could I marry him, anyway? Legally, as far as anyone was concerned, I was a dead woman. Dead women couldn’t get married.

  I didn’t want to be a member of the Ross family. I might have loved the son, but I hated the father. No, even if it was ever a possibility, I’d never marry into Emilio’s family.

  ‘I have to go,’ Dornan said abruptly, wrapping a hand around the back of my neck and pulling me to him. He kissed me on the forehead, his lips lingering for a long time before he pulled away. I didn’t move, not wanting him to break away and return me to this unbearable loneliness.

  ‘Don’t go,’ I murmured against his chest. ‘You just got here.’

  We played this game far too often, these days.

  He kissed the top of my head again, his soft lips leaving a small damp mark against my skin, and then he left. I stared into my empty wine glass, tears forming in my eyes, jolting a little when the front door slammed.

  Alone again.

  A tear found its way out, dropping into the glass, followed by another, and then another. My chest constricted painfully as my weeping turned to all-out sobs, my eyes blurring as salt water overcame them.

  I was happy in brief moments of time, but I was sad the rest of the time.

  I lifted my head, blinked away tears. Saw children on the beach across from where I stood, their happy shrieks like blunt knives being driven into my heart. I saw the Ferris wheel on the jetty come to a stop, collect new passengers, and then start turning again. I heard the front door open and Guillermo’s sneakers squeaking on the tiles.

  You’d be a good mother.

  I wondered if my son liked Ferris wheels.

  I wondered if he knew that I existed.

  I felt someone behind me, but I didn’t turn. I didn’t want Guillermo to see my tears.

  ‘She die?’ he asked, crossing his arms and leaning on the railing beside me.

  I shook my head. ‘Nope. Still kicking.’

  Before he could do any more talking, I turned and pushed past him, walked down the hall and closed the door, shutting myself in my room. I sat on the edge of my bed, pulling Dornan’s shirt around me. I was pathetic. I was in love with a man who could never be mine, and I hated myself for that.

  Later, in the bath, I took a disposable razor and snapped the plastic with my fingers, releasing the sharp blade within. I kept the hot water running and the plug a little loose to make sure the tub was continually refilled with hot water. I laid out underneath a blanket of fluffy bath bubbles until they shifted under the pressure of the running water, revealing the body I worked so hard to keep fit.

  Going to the gym was one of the few freedoms I had – not that it was really a freedom with Guillermo in tow, but it was something to break the monotony. Something to focus on as I ran miles and miles on the treadmill, longing for fresh air on my face. They had these fans you could point at your face as you ran, but the air smelled of sweat and socks, not salt and water.

  There was a soft knock at the bathroom door, and Guillermo poked his head in.

  ‘You want a drink, girlie?’ He made a tipping gesture against his mouth and I allowed a small smile.

  ‘Sure,’ I said, placing the razor on the cold tiles that edged the deep tub. I wasn’t worried about Guillermo seeing me naked – there were now enough bubbles covering me that the only things visible were my head and the tops of my knees as they stuck out of the water. And I wasn’t worried about him trying anything. Over the years, Guillermo had become one of the few people that I could trust to some degree. He’d shared parts of his life with me, stories from his past, and he’d become a constant in my daily life. And, as much as I hated to admit it, I actually felt safer with him around. There were no more random visits from Murphy like there had been in the beginning of my captivity, no worries about coming and going as I pleased. I got my fresh air, and Guillermo was the price I paid.

  Guillermo was a murderer. He’d gone to jail for blowing up his house while his wife slept inside with the guy she was cheating on Guillermo with. The cartel had gotten him a light sentence in a plea deal, since Guillermo was one of the power-players with Mexican connections. Even with those connections, he was still in the minor leagues compared to Dornan and John, which was probably why he’d been assigned to me. We had an odd relationship, almost like brother and sister. He reminded me of my own brother in a way, minus the homicidal tendencies, and I wasn’t afraid of him trying anything on me.

  Guillermo left, returning with two tumblers of wh
at looked like vodka on the rocks. He handed me the one with a slice of lime and took his over to the vanity, leaning against the countertop as he looked at me questioningly.

  He nodded his head towards the naked razor on the edge of the tub. ‘If you die, I’ll kill you,’ he said jokingly.

  I shrugged, a wry smile touching my lips. ‘I’d never die,’ I replied, lifting my foot out of the water and watching rivulets of water stream down, back into the tub. ‘Who’d make your coffee in the morning?’

  He groaned.

  ‘What?’ I asked. He was distracting me from the urge to stick my head underwater and drown myself.

  ‘It’s just like when I was married,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Pretty little wife fucking somebody else in my house, and I have to visit the clubhouse to get any.’

  I grinned, staring up at the ceiling. ‘This isn’t your house. But sounds like a marriage, alright.’ I sobered, my grin slipping as I remembered Dornan telling me what Guillermo had done to his cheating wife. Forensics hadn’t been able to separate her tissue and bones from that of her lover’s without DNA testing every last little piece. I reminded myself to never get on his bad side.

  ‘Don’t blow me up, okay?’ I drained my vodka and set the glass on the lip of the bath, chewing ice loudly. ‘I know exactly how much half and half to put in your coffee. Those bitches at Starbucks have nothing on me.’

  He chuckled. ‘You’re dangerous,’ he said in Spanish, closing the door and leaving me alone.

  My smile vanished the moment he closed the door. I sat up, my nipples hardening against the cool night air. I drew my knees up out of the water and took hold of the razor blade with one hand, stroking my skin with the other. I hadn’t changed. As I pressed the tip of the sharp blade into the wet flesh of my thigh and watched blood rise to the surface, the dull sting that reminded me I was alive brought a smile to my lips once more.