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sissylittlefeather · 2 days ago

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If You Talk In Your Sleep

Chapter 3

A/N: As soon as I warned you that I wouldn't be writing anymore, I turned around and wrote a chapter 😂. I won't be churning stuff out like I used to, but I am going to try to write when I can, for my own sanity. ICYMI, this is the one with Elvis set in Vegas in 1969 and you're a Casino Boss's wife. I hope you enjoy it!

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Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, kissing, oral sex (m receiving), p in v sex, reader calls Elvis "daddy", he spanks her a couple times, and they drink alcohol

Word count: ~3.5k

“It is morning.�� His eyes pop open and you look at each other in terror.

“Oh fuck.”

******

You leap out of bed as quickly as possible and jump in the shower. You've never washed so fast in your life, but you know if you go home smelling like Elvis it'll definitely be the end of both of you. You dry off quickly and put your clothes back on, running through the suite like a chicken with your head cut off. Elvis tries to help you as much as he can, but both of you have a sinking, sick feeling in your stomach that you don't think has anything to do with the champagne from last night. As soon as you're dressed, he calls one of his men to take you home and you stand there awkwardly as you wait for him.

“Elvis, I'm sorry–”

“It's okay, honey. I understand.” You look up at him with your eyes shiny and full of fear and something else entirely. Coming home in the daylight might be the last thing you ever do. And seeing Elvis again puts his life at risk too. You're not willing to do that, so you know this goodbye has to be long term at the very least, if not permanent. He leans in to kiss you softly just as a tall young man with shaggy brown hair busts through the door.

“Where's the fire, boss?” He asks, panting. It's clear Elvis woke him up and had him rush to get here.

“This little girl needs a ride to the Flamingo, as fast as possible.” Elvis turns to you. “Honey, this is Jerry. You can trust him. He'll take you home.”

You look up at Jerry and nod. His face is kind and soft and you see why Elvis trusts him. You turn back to Elvis.

“Elvis, I–”

“I know.” He cuts you off and kisses you one last time before hurrying you out the door with Jerry. As soon as you're gone, he drops onto the sofa and holds his head in both hands. He hates to admit it, but he's scared. Scared for you and scared for himself. His eyes fixate on the carpet as images of what might happen float up and he tries to block them out. He walks to the phone in his suite and dials the number of one of his bodyguards.

“Red, get everyone together. We need to talk.”

******

In the car, you try not to fidget too much as you ride in silence. You twist your ring around on your finger and sigh deeply.

“You alright?” Jerry asks, his voice quiet.

“Not really. I'm not sure what I'm going home to.” You're not sure why you're telling him this, but Elvis did say you could trust him.

“He wouldn't let anything happen to you. Not if he can help it.” You look up at him and he smiles sweetly.

“You don't know my husband.”

“No, but I know Elvis. It's been a while since he had the same girl come over twice and even longer since one stayed the night. I have orders to stay and make sure you're okay.” You shake your head frantically.

“That's really not necessary.”

“Maybe not. But I'm gonna do it anyway. If you need to get away, I'll be in the casino for a few hours.” You think to yourself that it sounds like a good way to get yourself beaten to a pulp, but he won't defy his boss’s orders for anything.

“Thank you.” He lets you get out a block away and then parks and heads into the casino. You make your way up to your suite, holding your head high and praying you don't run into any of the guys. At the door, you take a deep breath and then open it. It's unlocked.

“Where the fuck you been?” Carl is sitting on the couch waiting for you, but you've been working on this lie all morning.

“Out. I ran into Holly last night at the Tropicana and we drank way too much. Ended up crashing in a room there.” Carl stands and walks over to you and you thank God that you had the wherewithal to shower before you left.

“If I call Holly right now, she'll tell me the same story?” You stomach flip-flops. Holly is a girl you used to know back when you were a dancer. She knows Carl and was a pretty good friend, so you think there's a chance she might roll with it if you have to call her. You look him in the eye and lie boldly.

“Yeah, of course.” For a second, he just looks at you, trying to decide how much he really cares. But your lie must be convincing because he nods slowly. You breathe deeply, thinking you're in the clear, but he grabs your face in his meaty hand and squeezes.

“If I ever find out you're fucking lying, you will not enjoy what I do to you.”

“I'm not.” You spit it at him, but the effect is diminished by your cheeks being smushed. He lets you go aggressively and you rub your chin.

“I'm going out. I won't be home before work.” You nod and he heads out of the suite. As soon as he's gone, you sink to the floor and cry, your body wracked with sobs now that the adrenaline has worn off. You want to let Elvis know that you're in the clear, but you can't. Carl will have eyes on you for the next few days, so you'll have to stay home. That's a price you're willing to pay to keep Elvis alive, though, and you sigh deeply, relieved that Carl has bought your lie. For now.

******

You lay low and stay in your suite for the next few days, knowing if you go anywhere you'll be followed. So instead, you wait. Finally, almost a week later, you get bored and decide to go shopping. You assume it's safe now, since Carl hasn't said another word about you coming home that one morning. Still, when you walk through the casino downstairs, you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched and followed.

You try to ignore it and go about your business, wandering through stores and holding up articles of clothing to your body. If you are being followed, they won't see anything exciting. As you walk through one particular store, though, the feeling of being watched gets worse. You start to look around suspiciously for one of Carl’s guys, but you don't see anyone you recognize. Just as you're about to give up and go home, you turn and run smack into Jerry, gasping.

“Oh my god. You scared me.” You clutch your chest and try to calm your breathing.

“Sorry. Elvis wanted me to give you this.” He presses a shopping bag into your hand.

“Wait. How did you know I was here?” He turns a little pink and fidgets with his fingers.

“We've been in the casino all week waiting for you to come down with orders to follow you if you did. And give you that. So, just, look at it okay? I'll tell Elvis you got it.” You nod and he turns to walk away from you.

“Jerry, wait!” He looks around and turns back.

“Hmm?”

“How is he?” You ask quietly. Being without him is about to kill you and you miss him so much it hurts.

“He misses you. Just, look in the bag and do as he asks. He's so worried about you. None of us have slept much.” He's almost pleading with you, so you nod slowly and he gives you a half smile before turning and walking out of the store.

You run to the checkout counter to pay for what you want and then rush home, the bag that Jerry gave you tucked into your other shopping bag. You have no idea what's in it, so you want to hide it in case you get caught. When you get back to your suite, Carl has left for work, so you have the place to yourself. You quickly pull out the bag and dump the contents onto your bed.

Inside the bag is a dress, some jewelry, a masquerade mask, and a card. You open the card first.

Hey honey,

I miss you. Put this on and meet me at the Palomino Club at midnight.

Love,

Elvis

You try not to smile too much at his handwriting and the way he signed the note. Then, you look down at the contents of the bag. The mask makes sense now that you know where he's asking you to go. The Palomino Club is brand new in Vegas, a strip joint, where no one respectable goes. It's so seedy that most of the patrons wear these masks to keep their identity secret. You're not sure why he's asking you to meet him there, but you suspect it has something to do with the newness and perceived anonymity. Unless they follow you, Carl's men would never think to look for you there.

Upon further inspection, you realize that the mask is beautiful. It's peacock-feathers on a purple background and it'll cover most of your face when you put it on. The dress is deep turquoise, backless and silky, and matches the mask perfectly. You glance at your watch, realize it's almost 10pm, and start getting ready.

******

At 12:07, Elvis sits at a table in the Palomino Club and anxiously fiddles with a glass of whiskey that he's not drinking. He ordered it just to have something to do with his hands.

“Jer, she said she was comin’ right?” Jerry shrugs and nods. You didn't say one way or the other, but he's reluctant to tell his boss no. “Then where the hell is she?”

He adjusts his mask. It's gold and matches his belt that he's wearing over a deep purple crushed velvet suit. It's over the top and the belt probably gives away who he is, but it doesn't seem like anyone is paying any attention. Everyone in the club is too focused on the barely-clad dancers on the stage. The girls have come up to him a couple of times and offered dances, but he declines. He's tempted to say yes once, but he thinks of how it would look for you to come in while he's getting a lapdance from another woman, especially one as naked as the girls in this club. Honestly, he can't look directly at them without blushing anyway. He takes a sip of the whiskey and grimaces.

“Isn't that her?” Jerry gestures to the door and he turns quickly. Sure enough, there you are, a vision in your peacock mask, silky dress, and strappy gold sandals. He wonders how you knew to wear them, since they match his outfit.

You see him sitting at a table and start to make your way towards him. As you approach, he slips out of the chair and stands up, his mouth open a little.

“Wasn't sure you were comin’.” He leans in to kiss your cheek, lingers, and then moves over to your lips, kissing you softly. You smile as he hovers with his mouth just above yours, obviously desperate to kiss you for real.

“Well, I did. Now what?” He taps his nose against yours lightly and smiles.

“You need a drink.” You groan as he pulls back and takes your hand to lead you over to the bar. You order a cocktail and sip it as he wraps himself around you from behind, pressing his lips to your shoulder. “You look good enough to eat, honey.”

You giggle and lean back into him as he kisses your neck.

“You promise?”

“Would I lie?” You turn to face him and he pulls you into a deep kiss, dipping his tongue into your mouth. His arms wrap around your waist and before you know it, your bodies are flush against each other and he's grinding his hips into you. You're both oblivious to the outside world, too lost in the kiss and in each other. It completely catches you off guard when someone taps on your shoulder. You drag yourself out of the kiss and turn. It's one of the dancers.

“Would you two like a private dance in one of our fantasy rooms?” Elvis looks at the girl and then back at you. You're ready to say no, but he has that glint in his eye.

“I think we would, doll.” You look at him with your eyes wide and questioning, but he just kisses your cheek and puts his hand on your lower back to guide you to follow the dancer. At the door, she turns to face you both, pushing it open without stepping inside.

“For a hundred bucks I'll disappear and you can have this room to yourselves for the night.” Elvis grins.

“Great minds think alike. I was gonna ask if you could make this happen. Here.” He fishes a hundred dollar bill out of his pocket and hands it to her. She smiles and disappears as quickly as she appeared. “After you, honey.”

You walk in with him behind you. The room is just a round conversation pit with a built in circular plush couch covered with cushions. The whole thing is dark pink velvet with black trim and the walls are mirrors. The low ceiling is black velvet with mirrored medallions holding it in place and the lighting is low, but still enough to see. He shrugs and then settles on one of the couches. You walk to him and bend over, putting your hands on his knees.

“You been to a lot of places like this?” He looks down the front of your dress and grunts.

“Not at all. There aren't many.”

“So you haven't had a bunch of lapdances?” He raises an eyebrow, not sure where you're going with this.

“Not really, no.”

“You know I used to be a dancer.” His eyes get wide.

“Yeah?” You push him back against the couch and turn away from him, grinding your ass against his lap. The music is loud, but not too loud, so you bounce and roll to it rhythmically as you rub yourself on his already-hard cock. He reaches for your hips but you stand up and bend over in front of him, touching your toes and giving him a good view of your ass. He spanks one cheek and you yelp a little. “My turn to be the boss tonight.”

“Yes daddy.” You whimper as he spanks you again on the other cheek and grins at you calling him daddy.

“Turn around.” Eager to follow instructions, you turn and climb onto his lap, straddling his hips. He holds your ass in both hands as you begin to roll against him to the music. As you dance, you push one of the straps of your dress off your shoulder. He watches as you push the other one off too and let your dress fall open to your waist. The backless nature of the dress means you're not wearing a bra, so this simple action puts your whole chest on display for him. “Goddamn, baby.”

He moves to cup your breasts, pinching your nipples between his fingers. Pulling you towards him, he wraps his lips around one nipple and flicks it with his tongue. Once he's satisfied with how hard it is, he moves to the other side and does the same thing. He nibbles and sucks on you as you run your hands in the back of his hair.

“Fuck, Elvis.”

“I'm just gettin’ started.” He whispers and you smirk.

“Me too.” You sink to the floor between his knees and run your hands up his thighs. His muscles tense as you get closer and closer to his swollen cock. You coo seductively. “What d’you want, baby?”

“Mmm I want you to suck it.”

“Yes daddy.” Your hands go to his belt and then the zipper. He lifts his hips for you to pull his pants down just enough to get his member out, the tip of it leaking precum as it throbs. You pump him so slowly with your hand and he moans softly, watching you. Then, you lean forward and, pulling his foreskin back, lick the tip of his dick. He groans and leans his head back as you take him fully in your mouth, sliding your lips around him tightly and letting him hit the back of your throat. It's been a while since you've given a blowjob, but you used to be pretty good at it, so you tap into those skills as best you can. Either way, he seems to be enjoying it as he grunts and whimpers, his hand moving to the back of your head to hold your hair as he thrusts gently into your mouth. His hips roll as he fucks your face and he strokes your cheek.

“So pretty with your mouth full a’my cock, baby.” You moan softly around him. “Fuck, doll, I don't wanna cum yet.”

He gently pulls your head up off of him and moans as his hard dick bounces with being released from your lips.

“Aw, daddy. How do you want this pussy?” You giggle, standing up. You both still have your masks and half your clothes on, so you slip your panties off and climb into his lap, rubbing your wet folds against him, but not letting him inside. His hips buck and he grunts.

“I wanna fuck her good and hard, baby. Make her cum so good for me.”

His fingertips find your clit and he rubs circles on your swollen bud. You moan loudly and hold onto his shoulders for support.

“Take off everything but your mask.” His voice is quiet but firm, so you stand up and do exactly as he says. He does the same until you're both naked in just your masks. “Lay on your back.”

You settle onto the couch on your back and he puts your ankles on his shoulders, teasing your entrance with the head of this cock.

“You want it hard, baby?”

“God, yes!” You moan as he slams into you in one thrust, your eyes rolling back from being filled so quickly.

“Oh, honey, you take this cock so well.” He picks up an intense pace of thrusting into you and you could die because it feels so good. You're already close to an orgasm as he slams against your g-spot relentlessly, but it really pushes you over the edge when he reaches down to rub on your clit as he fucks you. “Come on, baby, cum for daddy.”

You do as you're told and groan loudly as your climax crashes into you like a freight train, filling your body with electric heat. He slows down just a little as you cum, trying to push off his own orgasm while your pussy squeezes his dick. Without warning, he leans down and picks you up, sitting back on his heels as he holds you in his arms and thrusts into you from underneath. In this position, you can kiss him easily, so you do and it's surprisingly tender. All of a sudden the sex has become something more, something that's binding you together as you look into each other’s eyes. It's like the masks remove the necessity for protective walls and the only thing left is vulnerability and something that shouldn't be there yet, but it is.

“Honey, I'm gonna cum.” He whispers it like a declaration of affection.

“Good.” Your affirmation is a confirmation that you feel the same way. Two more thrusts and he grunts and buries his head in your neck while his cock twitches and shoots his release inside you. He groans into your hair and tries desperately to keep himself from saying the words. It's too soon. Too early. He's only known you for a couple of weeks. But it's there, so close to the tip of his tongue that he's scared to open his mouth. And you wait, needing him to say it first because if you do it makes you insane. So you sit there for a few seconds, both of you refusing to admit what you know to be true. Even if it's stupid, unrealistic, short-lived, it is in fact, true.

He pulls back from his place in your neck and pushes the mask off of your face. Then, you take his off and there's nothing blocking you anymore. You see him and he sees you and there's no going back.

“Fuck. I'm in love with you.” He says it incredulously like he can't believe it either because he can't. It hangs there for a second like smoke before you whisper your response.

“I'm in love with you too.”

******

Until Next Time

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