Milo had his cock in the whore for maybe a minute before he was verging on orgasm. It’d been a while, he told himself, that was the only reason he’d let this woman have an effect on him. He had a knife in his boot along with the gun clipped to his belt, which she didn’t seem to have noticed when she suggested that he get into the goddamn bath with her. He’d never ever diverted from a mission before, but God. God, she was gorgeous, and it had been a very long time since he’d had a woman, much less one who’d stood up out of a bath like the Birth of Venus. He could have resisted the urge – he wasn’t a man who was controlled by his glands – but he wanted her. He wanted her so much his cock stood straight up in his jeans and begged for her.
She was pretty enough, and she had long, dark brown curls that were twisted up into some kind of feminine wizardry, but she wasn’t a model, and she was maybe a touch on the plump side for fashion magazines. But there was something about the way she looked at him that made him understand: she wouldn’t mind being fucked up against a wall. Hell, she probably would sigh happily if he pulled her hair to expose her throat, gave her a couple of sharp taps on her ass for being mouthy, and called her names. He always preferred the girls who liked the rough stuff.
So, when he was close, when he was so close he was groaning with the force of it, he let himself fall entirely into her body, grunting hard as he spilled inside her warm, wet pussy. She purred against him, reaching around behind with the hand he wasn’t still gripping to cup his ass before she slid out of her. She was every man’s dream of a warm and willing woman – except he made the mistake of looking at her eyes. Her eyes were blank, distant. She might have enjoyed the bodily aspect of what had happened – she was wet and sweet on his fingers and his cock, that much he was certain of – but there was something deeply wrong about what had just happened.
He didn’t feel sorry about it. That wasn’t the case at all. But he found himself wanting to give her something better. Which was strange, given that he was going to need to put a gun to her head and demand she lead him to Toro. But still. It’d be nice for her to have a good moment before that.
He turned her gently around so that her back was against the wall. He caught her chin up under his finger and lifted it, shifting gently until her eyes finally flicked to his. He leaned in, then stroked her lips with his tongue before kissing the soft skin right behind her ear. He felt her soft exhale more than heard it. He felt a tension he hadn’t noticed in her the first time melt away. Her hands rested lightly on his forearms, something like butterflies, and she arched up against him. His cock was still hard, not spent from his first release, and when one of her hands wandered down to grip him where he rested against her belly, he groaned hard.
He looked at her again and smiled, reaching down and running one finger along her slit. She was all but bare on her pussy, and her lips parted to let him sample her wetness, now mixed with his cum.
God, she felt like velvet. She felt beautiful.
“What do you say, sweet thing?” She looked surprised at his voice, as if she’d expected him to be gone already. But she looked present, aware, more so than she’d done when he pushed her against that wall the first time. “Do you want something good for you too?”
She gave a merry little laugh that wasn’t anything like humor as she threw her arms around his neck. “Since when does Toro’s girl get a choice in who fucks her?” There was something wild in her eyes that made him even harder.
She fit the description of Toro’s girl, sure. Tess something – some kind of cloth that had made him think of his grandmother. He couldn’t remember right now, not with a gorgeous girl grinding her clit into his fingers. Jesus. But for her to have said something like that, to one of Toro’s own men – he had to assume that, right now, that’s who she thought he was, thus the only reason she hadn’t screamed and raised holy hell – there was something else in that head of hers. Maybe it had been a long time for her, too.
“Since right now,” he replied. He shoved his jeans farther down his thighs so that his cock wasn’t getting caught on the zipper. He reached down and took her thigh, lifting it up to his waist to open her up, nice and wide. He placed the head of his cock at her entrance and waited. “What’ll it be, sweet thing?”
She groaned, rolling her hips, trying to pull him in.
He shifted away from her. “Tell me yes,” he whispered against her chin, teasing her just a tiny bit deeper, hearing the whimper form and bubble away. “Or, fuck, tell me no, and tell me not to listen. I don’t give a shit. But if you don’t want me here, tell me, and I’ll go.”
Eventually. Eventually, he would go. But telling her, that wouldn’t help a goddamn thing.
“No,” she whispered, and he was just about to pull away when she continued. “But please, don’t listen. Please. No. Don’t. Don’t do it.”
He groaned again and sank back into her. “Tess, fuck.” She was warm and wet, and she pulled at him as she rolled her hips, fucking him right back. He gripped her slippery thighs and lifted her up, slamming her back so that he had more leverage to fuck up into her.
“Sweet thing,” she groaned out into his ear. “Call me sweet thing if you want to be my daddy.”
He couldn’t manage another word, just slammed into her, focusing as hard as he could on the sweet flesh filling his hands, instead of the feeling of her body split on his cock, because if he thought of that, thought of her calling him Daddy as he wrecked her cunt, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back.
She managed to get a hand between them and stroked her clit just enough to send her into spasms around him. She screamed, her head arching back, her body bowing around his cock, and he had to start counting backward by sixes to stay in the game enough to wait her out. He didn’t want to rush her. She seemed so surprised when the orgasm overtook her, like it was something she hadn’t enjoyed in a really long time. Course, he’d seen pictures of Toro. Maybe she hadn’t.
When he was sure she was done, when every last drop of pleasure had been wrung out of her cunt by his pounding cock, he whispered, “Say it again.”
She blinked at him, miming innocence. “Say what? Daddy?”
He made a sound that was entirely feral, even to him. “Again.”
“Are you fucking me, Daddy? Are you fucking your sweet thing?”
He exploded, pressing into her as far as he could while his cock pulsed and throbbed up into her, spilling cum so hard that he had to fight to keep his knees strong and not drop both of them onto the floor.
She crooned to him, her nails tracing down his neck, and it was almost enough to set him off again, like a fucking kid who’d just learned how to jack off. He set her down as gently as he could, pulled free, and then rested for just a moment with his head against the door.
She passed him a towel, and he wiped off his cock before putting it away and zipping up. And then it was time for business, and it was too bad that she hadn’t gotten a chance to clean up yet; she was just going to have to take him to find Toro with his jizz drying on her thighs.
He had to bite back an apology as he drew the gun she hadn’t seemed to notice. There would be no apologizing; from here on, this was strictly business. Her eyes went wide as she turned back to him with a lazy smile and found herself staring down the silenced barrel of his weapon. She hid the fear quickly and thoroughly; he only saw it because it flashed through in that first moment.
“Well, well,” she said. “You’re not one of Toro’s men at all, are you?”
He was impressed. Not too many people could pull off that level of affected disinterest when they had a gun in their face.
“I am not,” he agreed. “And while that was a lovely diversion, now I need you to take me to him?”
She was quiet for just a moment, and he let her have that space to breathe. She deserved the right to decide whether she wanted to die at his hands or die when Toro shot her, if he failed in his mission. Of course, he’d never failed, not in ten years.
The memory of Bastille tugged at him, and he pushed it sharply away.
“You understand I can’t promise to behave?”
He laughed. “Sweet thing, you don’t seem the sort I’d ever rely on to behave.”
She gave a crisp nod and folded her arms under her breasts in a way that propped them up deliciously. He hadn’t gotten a chance to really get his tongue around the tight brown nubs, and dear God what was he even doing thinking like this on a job?
“Can I get my robe first?”