#mob boss henry cavill

[cardierreh15]

Poison

If you’re wondering if I hate you, I do. Enjoy guys 😉

**I do not give anyone permission to repost or copy my work!!

Warnings 18+: Toxic Couple Behavior , Strong Language , Mentions Of Cheating , Mentions of Divorce , Mentions of Alcohol Intake , Domestic Violence , Mentions Of Heart Break and Trying to Move on .

Pairings: AU!DrugLord Henry Cavill x Black!Woman OC (London)

Description: things had been a little rocky between Henry & His Wife, London. So when he has a problem with her going out with her friends unannounced, she snaps!

Word Count: 1.7K

Song: Love Language by SZA

She was sneaking her way into the house. Trying to be as quiet as possible with her footsteps on the tile floor. But with the liquor making her feel heavier, she was making more noise than she thought she was.

London was locking the door, she hadn’t even noticed that he’d turn on the lights. And once she turned around, he was there leaning against the stairs with his large arms folded across his broad chest. She instantly sobered up when she saw him, jumping slightly, ‘Jesus—‘

‘Where have you been?’ He lifted his head to look up at her across the room.

It was so quiet and the air was thick was tension.

Her own cause she was tired of looking at him.

His because she always found ways to disobey him. But why did that matter? They were getting a divorce anyway.

‘Since when do I have to answer to you, Henry.’

‘You don’t. But you do answer to our kids. They’ve been worried about you all night.’

London rolled her eyes and walked towards the stairs. Her hips swayed; her black tight and form fitted dress hugging those curves her children blessed her with. ‘I bet my last dollar they weren’t even concerned about me.’

Henry stepped to the side, standing before her with an intimidating glare. ‘London, I get it… alright— you don’t want to be around me and to be completely fucking honest I’m ready to be over this divorce shit too. But you are still my problem. When I say you need to be home at a certain time— I expect you to be there before then!’

She took a step back and a snarl curled on her lips before she kissed her teeth, ‘Boy! Fuck you. I’m a grown ass woman and I will come and go as I please!’ She tried to step around him but he stood in her way once again.

‘Oh? It’s “fuck me” now. Alright, I’m not doing this shit with you tonight.’ He chuckled as he turned around and began to walk up the steps.

‘Henry, it’s been fuck you OK,’ she followed him. She wanted him to hear what she had to say. ‘You had me at home with our boys while you were fucking the next bitch. But I can’t go out and have a good time with my friends?!’ She stomped up the steps, ‘HELLO!! Henry! I’m talking to you!’

They made it to the stop of the steps. Henry’s hands tucked in his pockets as he tried his best to tune out her shit, ‘London, just let it go man. I’m starting to think you’re not over the shit!’

‘I am over it!’

Henry swiftly turned around, ‘THEN WHY DO YOU KEEP BRINGING IT UP!?’ He didn’t realize he was yelling just then.

London stared up at him with fiery eyes, a deep frown curled downward on her lips. She didn’t say a word

‘… when people keep bringing up bad shit of the past, it clearly means they’re not over it! I told you I was sorry! And I have been trying to make it up to you for a fucking year! You keep pushing me over the fucking edge, London!’

‘Oh you’re not sorry! If you were sorry, it wouldn’t have happened twice!’

‘UGH!’ Henry threw his hand up in the air as he kissed his teeth and turned around to walk into their old bedroom.

London didn’t back out, she followed suit.

‘Oh so we’re not gonna talk about the affair with your dealer?!’

‘I told you, nothing happened between me and her! Shit, if I knew you were going to accuse me of it, I might as well fucked!’

London inhaled sharply, her eyes welling up with tears. ‘You are sick! I swear to God! I don’t know how I got stuck with a PIECE OF SHIT LIKE YOU!’

Henry stood up straight, taking a deep breath and turned around to face her. ‘Then that makes two of us.’

The room grew quiet. You could hear pin drop.

London sighed, walking towards him with her hands on her hips. When she stood before him, her head fell as her tears fell from her eyes; creating traces on her make up. She lifted her hand, brought it back and slapped it across his face in a hurry. ‘You ain’t shit. You ain’t gone ever be shit! I gave up my life for you! I sacrificed EVERYTHING FOR YOU!’

‘I DIDN’T ASK YOU TO! I told you what kind of fucking person was and you overlooked the shit anyway!’

‘I OVERLOOKED IT BECAUSE I LOVE YOU HEN!’ Her voice shattered; It was then when she completely broke down.

Henry stared at her a thin sheet of tears glossed over his eyes and settled at his eyelids. She had seem to be taking the separation well at first… she made it clear on many occasions that she didn’t want this shit to work. But her telling him that she loved him gave him a glimpse of hope.

He wanted his family back.

‘I tried… I tried moving on! I tried dating, I tried everything! But I couldn’t… I’m still in love with you even with your sick ass tendencies, I’m still fucking HERE! When will you see it! When will you see me?!’ She gave his chest a hard shove.

He stumbled back a little bit, inhaling deeply before clenching his jaw together. ‘I— London, I been seen you. I have only been following your league! You wanted 50/50 custody over the boys? I didn’t fight that! You want child support?— I am willing to do that and give you spousal support! I have given you everything you ever wanted when it came to this fucking divorce but you don’t even seem like you know what you truly want… do you?’

London gently wiped her nose with her wrist and looked away from him. She couldn’t look at him.

‘You… don’t want a divorce…’

She didn’t say a word, instead her arms stayed crossed across her breasts.

Henry let out a shuddered sigh and rubbed his face then let out a chuckle before he walked around her.

‘I was only trying to scare you…’

Henry just shook his head.

‘Once I knew you weren’t budging when it came down to it… I just went through with it.’

‘And how’d you know I wasn’t scared?!’ He said before he turned around to face her once again. ‘London, that’s the first time I’ve been scared in my entire life! The thought… the thought of losing you and my boys to the next fucker… I was afraid you were done with me.’

She wiped her tears and sniffed, ‘Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve worked it out, Hen! Why have us waste all this money on lawyer fees instead of just working it out?!’

‘Because I wasn’t going to press you… I had fucked up… many, many times London. I just accepted my fate— I made my bed, so I must lay in it.’

She sniffed before she heard a tiny, tired voice. Her head snapped towards the bedroom door. Their youngest son, Adonis spoke up, ‘mommy… you’re back home?’ He rubbed his bright blue eyes. The same ones he and his brother stole from their father.

‘Hii my baby boy,’ she walked over to him and scooped him up into her arms, placing kisses on his cheek and head. ‘I’m sorry I was late. But I’m home now, and I missed you and your brother.’

Henry stared at them with a soft smile on his face. Then his head fell forward to hide the joy he felt in that moment.

‘I heard yelling… we’re you and daddy fighting?’ He whined, pouting out his bottom lip.

London looked up at Henry. Henry looked up at her, ‘No… no just- a simple misunderstanding my love.’

‘Yeah, just— we were just talking loud…’ he gave his son a reassuring smile and walked over towards them. ‘Here. Let me go tuck you in alright? Mommy is really tired.’ He opened his arms out to Adonis and the tiny human just reached out for his daddy. He then let out a tired yawn.

‘Come on boy, off to bed!’

‘Goodnight my love,’ she said softly, ‘I will see you in the morning.’

‘Goodnight mama…’ and he waved his tiny palm at her as they exited the room.

London let out a shaky sigh and turned around to look at the king sized bed. The bed that they shared all their 7 years of being together. She walked over towards her side, dragging her fingertips over the soft linen.

She then sat down on it. Remembering how soft and comfortable it was. The one she slept on in the guest room was a full and no where near as delightful as this SleepNumber.

Suddenly, it seem as if she lost control of her body. She just laid her head down on the cool pillow and shut her eyes. She fell asleep in record time. Between dancing the night away at the club he owned and their argument… she was beat.

After Henry had put Adonis back to sleep, he placed a kiss on his boys head and shut their door behind him.

He walked down the hallway slowly, I’m his own head about the things that were said tonight between the both of them. But as soon as he made it back to his bedroom, he felt tense all over again. ‘Here we go…’ he sighed and opened the door.

To his surprise, she was laying on the side of the bed she used to sleep on; knocked out. He just stood there, scoffing as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Henry walked over to her side and placed a gentle kiss on her head, ‘rest well, my queen.’

Afterwards, he discarded his clothes, placed them in the hamper and dressed in something more comfortable. Gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He crawled into the bed, careful not to wake her. Then, he tucked her in and wrapped his arms around her in a snuggle.

Suddenly, London murmured in her sleep, ‘Henry?’

‘Yes?’ He answered with his eyes closed.

‘It’s still fuck you.’

Henry’s chest rumbled with a dark chuckle, ‘I know.’

[ramp-it-up]

Announcement: Thank You! ❤️

Guidelines

Story List

Deck the Hallways

Teacher!Bucky x Teacher!Reader  (Anon ask)

It’s Christmas time at Shield HS. Can you and Bucky keep your secret under wraps?

Santa, Daddy Chris Evans x Reader (Anon ask)

Thanks to a bet with Scott, you are Santa’s helper for the night.

Christmastime to Me Duke! Henry Cavill x Reader (req x @ysmmsy)

Henry is your best friend’s baby daddy. And a Duke!

Try a Little Tenderness Mob Boss! Steve Rogers x Reader (req x @clawnotes​)

Steve can’t buy you with gifts. He needs to try a little tenderness.

Can You Stand the Rain Winston Duke x Reader (Anon Ask)

Winston wants a do over of that infamous IG post.

What’s This?  Henry Cavill x Reader x Sebastian Stan (req x @adoreyouusugar)

Halloween or Christmas? Why not both? 😉

I Still Have You Chris Evans x Reader

(How I Met Your Father AU) req x @maroonsunrise83​

It’s a very pregnant Christmas for the Evanses.

All I Want Mob Boss! Steve Rogers x Reader

(req x @clawnotes​) Pt. 2

Steve has left you alone for a week with no explanation. Will you let him back into your life?

My Favorite Things Ari Levinson x Plus Size!Reader

Anon Ask ♏️

Ari is your best friend in town. Could he be a little more?

Mistletoe by @elocinnicole

Daveed Diggs x Reader

Daveed offers his girlfriend some relief as she prepares for finals.

If The Fates Allow Andy Barber (Drew) x Reader

Anon Ask ♏️

Andy did you dirty and you are done. Can he convince you to give him your heart again?

All These Things And More Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Anon Ask ♏️

Ransom is a dad now, but you’re neglecting Daddy.

Fin

I’ve made the executive decision to be done with Christmas. Yay!

There will be time for Jake and for Chris, and probably for next Christmas. I want to THANK YOU for this gift of your response to this challenge.

I’ve pushed myself and grown so much, written 11 new fics, and have been in awe at the response. You’ve given me a new kink that I’m obsessed with, 👀 and I’ve earned new friends.

I’m going to chill for a bit, and revisit those WIPs that need attention. Requests are closed for a while, at least until Valentines Day 🥰

Thank you, thank you, thank you! And Love you all!

❤️💚❤️

[hederasgarden]

Ciao bella!! For your requests...

How's about #8 with Bodyguard Walter Marshall? You know I'm a sucker for those curls. 😘😘

I continue to suck at writing 100 word drabbles so here you go. Enjoy!

Pairing: Walter Marshall x F!Reader  Word Count: 841 Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angsty, violence, whump and soft Walter. A/N: This is my first Walter fic and my first time writing for a Henry Cavill character so be kind! Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

The world seems to move in slow motion, every detail sharp and painful. A high-pitched drone rings in your ears while dust chokes your throat, making it difficult to breathe. When you touch your head, your hand comes away bloody and you blink in an attempt to clear your vision. Somewhere in the distance, you hear the wail of sirens. You try to make sense of it all but your mind struggles to hold onto any thought too long. 

Glass crunches under your heels as you take a hesitant step forward. You wobble, pitching toward the ground until a pair of strong arms catch you. You look up and Walter's face comes into focus, his features sharp and concerned despite the surreal blur around you. His lips move under his thick beard, but it sounds like he’s speaking underwater. 

You shake your head and he shifts closer. His warm, calloused hands cup your face and you wince when his thumb presses against the cut on your head. Behind him, you can see what remains of the hallway. There’s a single shoe in the middle of the floor and your stomach lurches, catching sight of a body. 

"Hey. Look at me."

Walter grips your jaw almost painfully and your attention snaps back to him. Suddenly, everything comes rushing back. You were angry, arguing with him and another FBI agent about whether you should testify. They had security concerns but you were determined, it was your only chance to put away your boss —the corrupt DA in the pocket of the mob. That was right before the first bomb exploded. 

"Oh god,” you whisper, horrified.

"It's okay, you're okay," he soothes, his voice calm and steady despite the chaos. "We're going to get out of this, but I need you to listen to me, can you do that?"

"Yes."

"That's good," Walter praises. 

His hands drop to your shoulders and then down your arms, applying careful pressure as he goes. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know he’s checking for injuries but right now all you can focus on is how reassuring his touch feels. If he’s with you, you’re safe. He would never let anything bad happen to you. That thought alone is enough to pull you from the swirling panic that threatens to drown you. 

"We need to check in on the rest of the team," you tell him. Walter's voice is gentle as he says your name, but you shake your head firmly, trying to push past the haze of confusion. ”No, we need to—"

"You're my priority," he interrupts. "I need to get you out. There's no case without you.”

"We can't leave them."

"I'm sorry,” Walter says softly as his thumb brushes away the tears that escape. ”They're gone," 

Your eyes dart behind him and you see the horrific reality you hadn’t fully registered before. Three bodies lay on the floor—your friends and colleagues. The realization feels like a lance through your chest, stealing your breath. You look back at Walter, tears falling silently. 

A distant boom makes both of you flinch. The building shudders violently, sending plaster dust cascading from the ceiling. 

"We need to go."

You nod and Walter wraps an arm around your waist to hold you close as he guides you over the debris. When you try to look back, he places a firm hand on the side of your face, his fingertips brushing against your temple.

"Don't look," he says, urging you to tuck your face into his chest.

Your fingers curl into the soft fabric of his sweater as your body moves on autopilot, guided by him, until you’re finally outside. From there, everything becomes a blur, moments merging into a disjointed sequence—the paramedics stitching you up, the uneasy ride in the back of a strange SUV, and now, this safe house.

You watch Walter pace the living room, his hand resting on his gun as he stops to peer out the curtains. His black curls are still dusted with white plaster.  Every part of you feels grimy and tacky.

"I want to go home," you say, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it catches Walter’s attention. He lets the curtain fall back into place, blocking out the outside world. You wrap your arms around yourself and rock forward.  "Please."

"You know that's not possible.” he reminds you not patiently. “We’re gonna be stuck here for a while."

The floor creaks beneath him as he moves to stand directly in front of you. He touches your shoulder and you look up at him through wet lashes. 

"You should get cleaned up. There's some toiletries and clothes for you in the bathroom." When you don’t move he sighs, touching your chin. “Go on.”

It’s a testament to how exhausted and overwhelmed you are that you follow his gentle command without argument. At the door you pause, looking back at him with a silent question in your eyes. 

“I’ll be here when you get out,” he promises.

Send me a request

[reddevilmcnt]

an independent and selective multi-muse roleplay blog with fluctuating activity, expect highly nsfw (violence, drugs, trauma & mature themes) and smut friendly writing with a personal preference for all things gay. this is a side-blog so i cannot follow back, which makes this blog not mutuals only. muses are written by decimus, 30+, qpoc, any pronouns, advanced lit. all muses are dominant and tops.

discord can be given out in private for rp purposes.

OPEN STARTERS. MEMES. WISHLIST. WANTED OPPS.

rules & roster of muses,

oo1. When I say all muses are tops and dominant, I mean that I am experienced enough to know what I'm comfortable writing and that is it. Do not try to force switching on me. I also tend to selectively like brats (brats do not automatically make a bottom better written and I don't know how that thought process even started tbh.) oo2. With that said, all of my muses are complex and multi-dimensional in some way. My men have thoughts, feelings, dreams, goals, and personal preferences, and will absolutely soften for the right ships with chemistry. I'm not the writer for you if you believe tops/doms should be automatic kink-dispensers with no emotion or depth. oo3. You will see kinks as dark and heavy as non/dubcon, werewolves/monsters, possessiveness, public play, blood play, pain play, kidnapping, gun/knife play, violence, etc. You'll also see that mixed in with earned fluff and romance; I can play some very hard doms or terrible men but even they can be open to romance, no matter how dysfunctional. Therefore, follow at your own risk, or talk to me about your limits if we are roleplaying together. Any attempts at blog policing will result in a block, though. oo4. Biggest limits are probably any age regression, diapers, scat, feet stuff, writing submissive characters myself, racism/bigotry, poly relationships.

oo5. We can always move to discord if that's what you prefer.

oo6. I will admit I am picky. If a reply doesn't inspire me or I'm not having fun with a rp, I have no issue dropping and I am very ghost friendly. I can be open to restarting or trying multiple threads for the right partner; if I talk with you or roleplay with you often, that means I enjoy your writing and to feel free to come to me with new ideas or reply to other starters I may have.

oo7. I'm a queer person of color and this is a safe space for your muses of color. In fact, I prefer interacting with them.

[ original characters ] dominic rookwood immortal vampire hunter, homosexual, looks late 30s-40s. fc: alan ritchson

apollo king navy seal, bisexual, 20s-30s. fc: michael b jordan

salazar reyes hell's legion motorcycle gang leader, single father, bisexual, 40s. fc: clayton cardenas

slade simms mechanic, bisexual, 42. fc: ricky whittle

hades gladiator, bisexual, 38. fc: jason momoa

cain demon and a king of hell, bisexual, 1,000+. fc: henry cavill

maksim archer alpha werewolf, homosexual, 38. fc: aaron taylor-johnson

teddy grey college jock/nfl player, homosexual, 20s-30s. fc: zac efron

dmitri sherwood professional mma fighter, bisexual, 36. fc: y'lan noel

micah lockhart nfl player, bisexual, 20s-30s. fc: odell beckham jr alexei mercer firefighter, bisexual, 40s. fc: joe manganiello dante romano mob royalty and crime lord, bisexual, 30s. fc: michele morrone

[ canon characters ]

tommy shelby ---- peaky blinders. crime boss, bisexual (closeted), 39-43. fc: cillian murphy

frank castle ---- marvel. violent vigilante, bisexual, 43. fc: jon bernthal

derek morgan ---- criminal minds. fbi supervisory special agent, bisexual, 30-40s. fc: shemar moore

eddie diaz ---- 911. firefighter and army vet, repressed gay, 32. fc: ryan guzman

bruce wayne ---- dc. billionaire ceo & vigilante, bisexual, 40s. fc: ben affleck

eric northman ---- true blood. vampire sherriff, bisexual, 1,000+. fc: alexander skarsgard namor ---- marvel. talokanil mutant and king, bisexual, 500+. fc: tenoch huerta t'challa ---- marvel. black panther and king of wakanda, bisexual, 36. fc: yahya abdul-mateen ii

[mocnlighted]

i'm gonna start going through my drafts now , against my better judgement, i have added new muses (in addition to new ones i already had sigh) and i would love to use them so pls give this post a like if i can write you a starter from one of them? 🥺💗 (all listed below with their pinterest boards linked!)

antonella rojas // paloma elsessar, twenty-nine, bi - human who found their 'soulmate' in highschool, married them only for them to pass three years into their marriage. now she is trying to put her life back together and focusing on her radio show.

camille cho // jennie kim, twenty-seven, bi. - mermaid who lives on a yacht all on her own with her cat, she's an aquatic veterinarian and spends a lot of her time out at sea. her personality is sorted of closed off/cagey but is a total cinnamon roll once those layers are peeled back.

celeste moon // zoe kravitz, thirty, bi - human who is the daughter of a mob boss and was married to her first husband at twenty one to satisfy an agreement between her family and their old rivals. he died less than a year into their marriage, he was thirty years older than her. her second marriage ended after her husband was killed during a turf war, leaving her widowed twice and now refusing to walk down the aisle again.

miles beckett // henry cavill, forty, het - human, the black sheep/connor roy of his family who is really just doing his best but failing massively at it. to make matters even more complicated, his best friend passed away leaving him responsible for their five year old son.

nomi diallo // anna diop, thirty, het - human who, on the outside, has her entire life together. she has a high paying corporate job as a financial analyst and lives in a sxc apartment in the city but on the inside nomi is wrecked with guilt over her sister who died when she was a teenager, and nomi feels responsible for it.

mj ryland // alycia debnam-carey (might change this tho), thirty, bi - werewolf who is low-key on the run because she killed the guy she imprinted on (and was totally right for it!!). her job as a air hostess ensures that she is always on the move and keeping the distance from the community that want to hold her responsible.

[peyton-warren]

Sy as a mob boss……………

Hmmmmm

[lustbitten]

mobile friendly muse page

all fcs on this page are also available for new charas * means not yet added to full muse page

males:

andrew rogers / sebastian stan fc / heterosexual / 31-36 yo / mob boss august cowan / pablo schreiber fc / heterosexual / 41-48 yo christian deleon / lewis tan fc / heterosexual / 33-42 yo / handyman darren pittman / dacre montgomery fc / heterosexual / 28-34 yo grant carpenter / andrew lincoln fc / heterosexual / 49-53 yo / rich divorcee jason griffin / henry cavill fc / heterosexual / 35-39 yo jude vega / jon bernthal fc / heterosexual / 42-51 yo nicholas vaughn / ben barnes fc / heterosexual / 34-39 yo samuel hart / frank grillo fc / heterosexual / 48-54 yo vincent jimenez / pedro pascal fc / heterosexual / 44-52 yo

females:

addison greer / anne hathaway fc / pansexual / 36-42 yo aida warren / alycia debnam carey fc / pansexual (prefers ladies) / 26-32 yo arden blackwell / jessie mei li fc / pansexual / 29-34 yo celine houston / alexis ren or lili reinhart fc / pansexual / 25-31 yo channing graves / elizabeth olsen fc / pansexual / 28-34 yo cherry bennett / natalia dyer fc / pansexual / 22-28 yo frankie benton / jessica chastain fc / pansexual / 38-46 yo hanna burgess / madelyn cline fc / pansexual / 23-29 yo heather galvan / alexa demie fc / pansexual / 28-34 yo ivanna marks / camila mendes fc / pansexual / 26-31 yo maria almasi / may calamawy fc / pansexual / 34-40 yo marie mcdaniels / famke janssen fc / pansexual / 41-47 yo mayson hayes / morena baccarin fc / pansexual / 38-42 yo rowan dunn / grace van dien fc / pansexual / 25-29 yo stella monroe / dianna agron fc / pansexual / 26-37 yo

faces i'm willing to play

lili reinhart madelaine petsch sydney sweeney dakota johnson ella purnell sophie nelisse camila morrone savannah smith liz gillies alexa demie natasha lyonne oscar isaac jensen ackles glen powell charlie cox andrew garfield john boyega + more, just ask!

[angryschnauzer]

The Devil Inside You

Summary: He wants you to dance for him and you can’t say no. He’s in charge and not to be argued with, he’s the devil.

Fandom: Non-specific. The male character is never identified or named, i imagined him as Henry Cavill in perhaps August Walker guise, but it could work for any male.

Pairing: August Walker Mob Boss Devil x Female Reader (No one is named)

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Nudity, Suggested Prostitution, Exotic Dancer, Fingering, Performing Sex Acts, Sybian/Riding Dildo, Oral Sex/Blowjob, Choking/Airplay, Cum swallowing, Devils/Demons.

Wordcount: 1485

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications.

  Henry Cavill Masterlist

The Devil Inside You

The marble floors were slippery from being freshly polished, the heels of your sky high sandals struggling to make traction as you tried to keep up with the enormous man that had come to get you from where you’d been getting ready in the dressing room with the other girls. You had known it would eventually be your turn, your turn to be called into the luxury offices above the club in the ancient building, to entertain him.

He owned the club. He owned the city. He was in charge of everyone and everything. Even if you didn’t know it, he knew what was going on everywhere. Politicians bowed to his every request, law officials couldn’t touch him. Whatever was thrown would never stick as he had eyes everywhere. There were rumours of course, whispers of a darkness that surrounded him, of his way of being able to reply to an argument before it’s even said. Something dwelled behind those eyes, the pale blue making you think of an icy cage on the occasion you’d caught a glance of him as he’d been passing through the club whilst you’d been on stage.

The enormous goon in front of you turned and let out a short puff of frustration at your inability to keep up with his long strides.

“Okay okay, i’ve only got little legs and these floors are slippery in these heels”

“Rubbish, i’ve seen you wrap those legs around a pole and strut your stuff in heels higher than those…” his eyes raked up and down your body; “...In less clothing”

You went to retort back but a foreign noise caught your tongue before you could speak.

I’m waiting.

Both you and the goon turned towards the closed door ahead of you, the colour draining from his face;

“You’d better get in there, he doesn’t like to be kept waiting”

He stepped aside and let you approach the door, the handle making your hand seem tiny as you turned it and stepped into the room. 

It was as if time kept jumping ten seconds at once. You were in the middle of the room but had no recollection of stepping through the door or shutting it behind you. He sat on a low seat next to the window, the pale light of day illuminating his strong features. He was impeccably dressed, an expensive suit clung to every part of his body, then the jacket open and he was sitting back, you were stood at his feet. His gaze was hypnotic and it sent a chill down your spine.

“Don’t be scared Little One”

His voice surprised you, deep and soft, it licked at your senses like an cold mist, whisps of smoke curling around you. His hand captured your own, pulling you towards him as he smoothed the palm of his other over the back of your hand;

“You’re shaking. You’ll be ok, its just us in here”

That’s what scared you the most. You felt like you were in the lions den, the reputation of the beast before you the most you feared. Finally finding your voice you spoke;

“I was told you wanted a dance? But there is no music…”

“There will be music to my ears” he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth; “Now, let me see…”

He nodded to your robe and released your hands, his own moving to the silk tie at your waist, pulling the strings and letting it fall open. He sat back to appreciate what he saw, the expensive lingerie that had been delivered to you just an hour before, what little ribbon and lace there was not covering anything, instead it framed your assets. 

Entranced by his gaze, you found yourself letting the robe fall into a pile on the floor, the cool silk draping over your feet. With feather light touch his fingertips danced over the bare skin of your hip down to your knee, before they travelled up your inner thigh. The first touch of his finger against your bare lips caused a gasp of surprise to escape your mouth, but as he rubbed his thick fingers through your swollen petals which were devoid of panties, you hummed as sparks started to ignite in your belly and your arousal grew. Pressing the back of his hand just above your clit, he parted two fingers and ran his thumb over the sensitive pearl, drawing it out from beneath its hood, teasing it - and you - until you felt your leg start to shake. Then he stopped and sat back, a move that caught you by surprise.

“I think you’re ready to dance now” he nodded his head, indicating something behind you. 

Turning you were surprised to find a small leather footstool behind you, maybe a foot long and half as much wide. But was was glaringly obvious now was what you would be dancing on, the thick phallus that rose from the centre. The piece of obscene furniture hadn’t been there when you’d entered the room, and no-one had come or gone since you’d arrived. 

A voice in your head tugged at your subconscious, telling you to move and that you knew exactly what you were expected to do. Straddling it, you slowly dipped down, a move you’d done many times in front of many people, but then it had only been to simulate the act, never to actually do it. His ministrations had left you soaked, so as the blunt tip nudged at your folds it slid through them easily, bumping against your clit. Lowering yourself you whimpered as the thickness stretched your velvet channel. Barely two inches in and you could lower yourself no further, instead with some seasoned dexterity you moved to your knees, first one then the other as you braced your hands on the front edge of the padded leather and started to ride.

Your gaze was always trained on him, as he watched you perform the most private dance. With renewed vigour you took the shaft deeper, your juices flowing down your thighs and soaking the leather beneath you, the phallus seemed to grow and mould to your inner walls. To be on show like this in an act so private, yet being watched sent pleasure straight to your core, the rush enveloping your mind as your head fell back and your eyes fluttered shut, it felt so good. 

A quiet huff of breath brought your attention back to the room, to the devil in front of you. His eyes now dark and beneath hooded eyes, his large hand palmed himself through his expensive suit. You rode harder and faster, and it was as if you were riding him. He rested his head back against the seat, fighting the urge to close his eyes and miss seeing your beautiful performance. 

You knew you were getting close, so when he suddenly stood it threw your rhythm off for a moment as he strode over to you and quickly unzipped himself, pulling his hard length from his pants. As he held the thick base his other hand moved to your throat, gripping you as he fed his wide mushroom head between your lips. 

“Ride. I want you to swallow what you do to me”

Never releasing your throat, instead he pressed a little harder, restricting your airflow just enough to tell you he was in complete control. It restricted your movements but you still bounced up and down on the shaft, all whilst he was deep in your mouth, the salty tang of his precome a tart reminder that he was close. With each rise of your hips it was as if you were riding him, yet he was overwhelming your senses, his voice in your thoughts as barriers between realities dissolved. 

Your body constricted as your orgasm hit, a white heat spreading through your core and enveloping your mind, but through it all you could feel the phallus move and jerk inside you, its movements identical to the way he filled your mouth, each spurt of his thick seed a delicacy on your tongue and a ghost in your womb. 

With a groan and in a moment of clarity he released his hands and took hold of your shoulders, to support you from falling and himself from the same. You fell against his thigh, the thick muscle warm and firm beneath the expensive fabric as he zipped himself up. He carefully lifted you from the device, carrying you like a bride as he exited the room and made his way to his chambers, doors seemingly opening and closing on their own.

“Sir, you have meetings this afternoon…” a voice called out.

“No, i do not”

“But it’s the Mayor”

“Definitely not”

In his arms the world narrowed, it was just him and you, his voice in your head.

The devil inside you.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Okay but in my head this He looks like a classic gangster.

Imagine this ladies mafia don!henry mob boss!henry arrives alone deciding he didnt want to pay for an escort tonight, he will find a pretty thing to take home tonight, afterall it was his new clubs grand opening. He poses for the cameras knowing the press loved to get the scoop on him. It was common knowledge he was the boss, the don of the city yet untouchable.

He glances along the line and then there in the crowd he spots you tucked behinde a camera snapping shots, an innocent little lamb. He tried shaking off the tug in his gut but his eyes keep drifting to you untill finallly he points. At you. His 'security' quickly pulls you over to him, and with little to no warning he's on you. Arm tucked around you pinning you to his side. Little did you know youd never ever be free from those arms again. Something felt right to him, you felt like home so you would stay.

HENRY CAVILL ━ World Premiere of “The Witcher: Season 2” in London (December 01, 2021)

[ignis-writes]

By Chance, By Choice

Summary: Summary: Will Syverson and y/n find love during hard times in an alliance made to keep the peace? (im bad at summaries)

Pairing:mob boss!Logan Syverson x female reader

Word count: around 1.7K

Warning: mob and stuff like that, mentions of fight bloodshed, arranged marriage. angst, fluff, and hardcore smut in future parts

A/N: This chapter is just an introduction to the universe from the reader's pov. English is not my first language and this fic is Not beta'd like everything else on this page. So look out for obvious mistakes

Image credits: Pinterest

Even if u don't like this, please comment, would be a great help to improve

*No permission is given of reposting, copying my work or ideas and parts from it and claiming it as your own* 

Arranged marriage AU -

Mob Boss AU

Chapter 1

The Engagement

An Arranged marriage? It sounded ridiculous and impractical.  But belonging to a mob family that had been around the blood business for so long, I've heard it often, especially around my eldest brother's marriage. Back then it felt like an alternate option if tinder doesn't work, but right now I'm close to no option. 

From a third-person perspective, It was like, everything was handed to me on a silver plate, and to a point it was true. Being the daughter of an influential man, and being raised in a wealthy family I did not have many struggles compared to an average person. But the problem with the silver plate is that it comes chained to your arms. This chain essentially limited my freedom to choose many things for myself, from where I studied to what I wore. And now who I married.

So when my father casually broke the news of this proposal at the dinner and asked for my opinion, I was not surprised. And by the looks exchanged between my brothers, Jude and Milan, It was clear that I shouldn't have a bad opinion for starters. This was not a proposal but a promise, a promise made on my life without my knowledge or consent. A promise put together by two mobsters for god knows what purpose. A business agreement? A peace treaty? I was yet to find. 

The Syversons were a familiar name in the underworld. The man I was supposed to marry was Logan Syverson, the old Don's younger son and only heir since the passing of his father and the murder of his elder brother Richard. Richard's death created a series of shootouts and gang wars which led to a fiasco that called for immediate negotiations and peace. Plus Syverson shared his high school and college days with my second brother, so they were pretty close even after all these years. This is all I knew about the man I was supposed to marry and his family. Still, I got ready to meet him and his family since my father had way too much hope in this alliance and he even went to the extent of thinking we would make an excellent couple. That was the clue, father wasn't just wagering a business deal, he wanted to "join the families " or whatever it meant. 

____________

The night before my engagement to him or my first time meeting my future husband, I couldn't sleep and had mixed feelings about him, about the marriage, and its aptitude for building anything more than a peace treaty between 2 groups of influential people. I wondered if I will like the stranger of a fiancee. A part of me feared it was probably gonna be another faux excuse for marriage, like Jude and Catherine. Even though they were lovely individuals with much kindness and love in their hearts they didn't work well as a team. On the other hand. I had my parents and their extraordinary bond to look up to. They loved cherished and respected each other and set a great example for their 4 kids to follow. Once I heard Uncle Benjin say they hit the jackpot when it came to an arranged marriage while toasting to the well-being of their relationship on its 25th anniversary, that was 10 years ago when I was 15. 

I kept tossing and turning in my bed for a few more hours so I went down to the kitchen to grab a drink, maybe if I had enough alcohol to doze off my system, I could fall asleep. Stupid thought actually, I was more likely to stay up if I drank. So I opened the fridge instead, to find ice cream. There was always some ice cream in this fridge. When I was around 5-6 used to sneak out with my brother to get some sweets past midnight, but pappa would catch us. He was never mad at us once he even joined our Lil ice cream adventure with his own share of choco chip cookies dipped in a warm glass of milk. It was our lil guilty pleasure.  But this time for a change I saw my mamma, she stood by the kitchen window looking out into the vineyard. 

"Mamma? " 

"Oh honey, you can't sleep either? " 

"yeahhh. I'm glad I have company, maybe a lil ice cream would help? 

"sit down you, I'll get the ice cream"

she turned to the fridge in a hurry before I managed to turn up the lights, and a tear? Was she crying? For what???

Knowing my mom, if I asked she would get annoyed further so I didn't ponder it any further. We sat together with the ice cream and talked about the past, not anything serious but all the silly stupid things I and my brothers did as kids, and giggled at some really awkward memories. We purposefully avoided talking about that time when pappa got shot and we had to move away for some time. After all, weren't trying to send away any hopes of sleeping tonight, and when silence fell again I asked. 

"ma, I don't know what it is but you know you can talk to me, right...…" 

"Oh it's nothing honey, it's just " her eyes were damp again.

"It's just I always felt like you never liked this lifestyle, the constant fear, instability and everything bad that came with the money and power… *sigh * I didn't get to choose who I married, but fortunately I married a good man. Together we made a family brick by brick. It was not easy, we took it slow and steady. Had to pretend at some part, had to turn a blind eye, forget and forgive but the efforts were mutual, we fell in love with each other.  

But for you, I hoped better, like you could choose your life, your husband, and ever since your pappa came up with this proposal I had this impending feeling that like you would have chosen to marry outside this society if it was your call.  Even cut all ties with this dangerous world and move out to somewhere peaceful, and…and normal. So yeah..." She wiped another drop of tear and continued "Im sorry we had to lock u right back into this world where mothers start every day with the fear of not seeing their children and husband ever again... it's terrible, really"

 

For a second I didn't know what to say, but I couldn't leave her in the silence either so I said, just for the sake of saying anything

"Oh mamma, you don't worry about that for a moment. I am your daughter, I will not just let somebody's arrangement decide the course of my life. And about getting out of this world, I was born here but never a part of it. Always a bystander to whatever went on in the name of the "family business" always a wallflower. I hated it of course, by trying my best not to see too much, not to let it bother me. my life was good so far ma, it will be good in the future cuz it was and will always be my decision to keep my happiness. So My marriage will be good, or I will make it good. " I said smiling 

No matter what I said, no matter how confident I sounded It was confusing, the hour was late and my mind was still wandering but after a few minutes with mamma, I felt like I could nod off for a while.

__________

The engagement went well, well…not uneventfully well. I wore a simple pink dress and waited in my room, Catherine was there to help me calm down my nerves. She said she knew him, not well enough but she said he wasn't a bad guy maybe it was true, maybe it was true. Maybe she just wanted me to calm down. When pappa led me to the hall he was silent except for the kind smile he offered me but his face was optimistic.

The hall was decorated in pink and white flowers and laces. The delicate sound of the piano kept humming a familiar tune. Not many people stood there, just his family, the closest of his friends, and mine. He was already there when I walked down the stairs, he must have seen me first because when I spotted him his eyes were already on me. Damm, he was handsome.

Some part of me wished I could meet him sooner. But another part of me was still a bit anxious. Finally, we got engaged, shook hands, and talked a bit....a lot. He was taller than I expected and well built. His eyes were many hues of blue with an isle of brown.

'Cute. My kids are gonna have those eyes' I caught myself thinking. wait, what???? I met this man 5 mins ago and I was already planning kids and their eye color. There is seriously something wrong with me.

As soon as the crowd around us took off to socialize with others, he asked me if he could get me a glass of champagne. Sure he might have noticed me not standing still and shifting weight from leg to leg. So we sat down by the balcony and he got me my glass. The fact that he served in the army as a captain back when Richard and his dad ran the business was new to me. He asked if I was okay, with this... This means the marriage and him. He was a good listener, he let me talk and paid attention. He seemed friendly and polite. Altogether a nice guy but still a stranger. Some part of me hoped this sweet demeanor was not just an act. 

My parents and his mom's brother, ( who first approached my dads with this proposal) were in a hurry to get us married so the wedding was fixed 2 weeks away from the engagement. Wow.  It was too fast, and I was quite stressed as it was. The ceremony would be a gathering for the so-called superiors of the mob world. I would be able to call my best friend Vivienne, that's it. No one else. But what intimidated me was the haste around getting this done, why this rush, were they preparing for something else? The silence and the haste surrounding the engagement and the wedding gave me an eerie sensation, one strong enough to wonder if I was walking into a trap.

Or Maybe I can walk into a fairytale.

I went to bed replaying the conversation we had. It felt comforting, but not enough. I wanted to see him again, talk to him, and dance with him. That night I fell asleep quicker than I expected with a silent smile upon my face and a hopeful warmth filling my soul.

'It's gonna be alright ' I told myself

[cardierreh15]

POISON - One Shot

Coming soon to a tumblr near you!

(If you’d like to know about it just ask lol I can’t put my words right at the moment

[ramp-it-up]

Valentine Asks 2023

Maybe a few. Here we go.

Character List

💕 Chris Evans (HIMYF)

💕 Barkeep! Andy Barber (The Bar AU)

💕 Steve Rogers

💕 Lloyd Hansen

💕 Jake Jensen

💕 Andy Barber

💕 Bucky Barnes

💕 CEO! Bucky (Playlist)

💕 Mob Boss! Bucky Barnes (This Thing Of Ours)

💕 Mob Boss! Sam Wilson (This Thing Of Ours)

💕 Mob Boss! Steve Rogers (This Thing Of Ours)

💕 Henry Cavill

Prompt List Here

Send me a prompt and character and you never know what will happen. 💕

[everything-person]

Okay so we all know the fanfic trope of writing (insert character name) Mob boss and girl being sold/given to mob boss to pay off family debt. It’s kinda a internet joke trope. (Not hating on the trope)

I think the girl/protagonist knowing this trope and it still happen should be used more often.

[thetaoofzoe]

Fic: The Company Woman 1/1

Title: The Company Woman

Pairing: CEO Henry x YOU

Summary: No other company has made you want to become a Company Woman. No other company made you want to surrender to your boss. I would suggest trying to get a position in this luscious Company, but only if you’re good ;). 

Rating: Explicit. Unprotected sex, cock-warming, strict rules, Soft Dom Henry, giddy and willing participants

And thank you to my ever loving @lightsidecalling​. 

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

Puckering your lips against one side of a small square of pink tissue, you watched yourself lightly dab at the other side with a soft powdered brush until you were satisfied you’d absorbed enough excess moisture from the matte lipstick. Carefully peeling the tissue from your dark cherry red lips, you tapped them with a clean manicured fingertip and then smiled at your reflection.

Perfect.

Picking up the parfum atomizer you layered yourself with a light floral scent. Not too much. Just enough so that the boss could smell it,  appreciate it, but not be distracted by it.

Replacing the bottle on the vanity tray, your eyes drifted to the large pink sticky note affixed to your broad  wall-length bathroom mirror. You leaned in to briefly consult it, as you had done every morning since landing a coveted position with The Company last year.

In your neat print, you’d copied the ‘Requirements for personal hygiene and workplace presentation’ instructions from your personalised employee handbook.

1. A bath or shower must be taken the night before bed and in the morning after rising from bed. Cleansing must pay close attention to delicate areas where unwanted scents can accumulate during general activities.

2. Hair must be neat no matter the style.

3. While professional whitening is not expected, you will maintain clean healthy teeth. At-home whitening strips are recommended.

4. Trousers are not allowed in the office and all clothing must be form-fitting, but not constricting or ‘tight’. Heels and nylons must be worn.

5. Makeup must be natural and unobtrusive and any scents must be light.

6. All foundation garments must not be detected beneath the outer clothes.

Mentally you ticked off the six boxes, stood back, and admired yourself in the brightly lighted mirror. You tucked the back of your rose coloured silk blouse into a darker rose coloured pencil skirt and made sure that the  zipper that ran the vertical length of the skirt was centered on your backside.

Flicking off the bathroom light and picking a pair of matching shoes from the upper hall closet, you padded down the stairs to the lower level of your townhouse. Your work mobile was charging on the kitchen counter and picking it up from the cradle, you saw that you had a message.

A flick of your thumb across the dark screen revealed what Mr. Cavill wanted for lunch:

CUISSE DE VOLAILLE FARCIE AUX HERBES, JUS A L’ECHALOTE from Le Gavroche.

You hadn’t even had your own breakfast yet, and here he was requesting lunch. However,  the thought of ensuring that your boss got whatever expensive meal he had a taste for that day, was exciting.

In fact, everything about working for the extremely posh company headed by five brothers was exciting. Everything was required to be of the highest quality and it was up to everyone involved to maintain the aesthetic of  The Company. After all, appearances in that world were everything. One wrong move could spell the end of them. Nonetheless, you relished the strict nature of your working environment and eagerly submitted to your superiors.

Stepping into your shoes,  and grabbing your handbag, you shrugged into a light jacket on your way out of the front door.

**

As a personal assistant to the middle (and in your opinion the smartest and most attractive) brother, Henry, your job afforded you the kind of luxuries of which you’d only dreamed.

When Henry travelled for business, you travelled for business. When he dined in impossibly decadent restaurants and slept in extravagant hotels, well, so did you. You didn’t always dine with him, (and you never slept with him), but you had unfettered access to all of the amenities that he enjoyed. The Company did well enough to, in turn, pay their employees handsomely and offer generous year-end bonuses.

You loved it.  No other employer had been able to turn you into The Company woman you were now and make you like it. You loved your job so much that you barely blinked when, during a late afternoon meeting with Henry, he slid a neatly formatted document across his glossy desktop towards you.

You leaned in, but did not pick it up. You read it where it lay, white and crisp against the deep cherry mahogany.

‘This is a non-disclosure agreement,’ you said and let your eyes drift up to Henry’s face.

He looked cool and perfect in his bespoke icy blue three-piece suit, offset by a creme coloured necktie knotted in a full Windsor. The ticking of his wristwatch was loud in the silence and he held your gaze wordlessly.

Henry was all raw masculine power and you were aroused by him. Constantly. When you performed your morning and nightly routines, you thought about him, wondering if he appreciated the extra effort you put in just to impress him.

Had he noticed?

You sucked your lower lip and lowered your eyes to the document again.

‘Um..’

‘I want you to read and sign it,’ said Henry in his warm honeyed voice, and you were startled a little by the clack of the Montblanc coming down next to the document.

‘Is this different from the disclosure documents I signed when I first started?’

Henry leaned back, relaxed and the leather chair creaked softly.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You’ve been with us for what, nearly a year?

‘Yes. A great year!’

His rosy pink lips lengthened into a charming smile and you thought about how his  nipples and his cock must be that very same colour. The heat of arousal rose in you and tingled between your thighs. It was a familiar and welcomed feeling, the muted buzzing that signalled the beginnings of your body awakening. You crossed your legs.

‘A great year,’ he agreed. ‘And, we want to continue to have more great years with you.’

‘I hope so too, Mr. Cavill.’

Henry’s blue eyes lowered to the document and you followed his gaze.

Picking up the pen you realised that your hands were damp. You were nervous and there was something tantalising hanging heavily in the air, something that you became much more aware of as you finished reading carefully through the document.

By the time you looked up, your heart was crashing against your ribs and it was hard to catch your breath. Without signing, you put the pen down, and neatly lined it up with the edge of the paper. You took in a long breath, held it and then let it out between perfect lips.

Your eyes finally met his and the shift in your relationship suddenly became very clear. It was no longer he who held the power in that room.

It was you.

Holding his gaze, you picked up the pen again and then looked down to carefully sign on the dotted line above your printed name.

You set the pen atop the document and with two fingers, slid it back across the desk to him. You saw him swallow hard, but that was the only crack in his impassive exterior. Henry picked it up, slotted it into a pale blue folder and stored it in the top drawer of his desk. The pen was capped and secreted into an inner jacket pocket.

He stood then and watching him walk around the desk to stand directly in front of you, you wet your lips and followed suit.

‘Don’t think I didn’t notice you,’ Henry purred leaning in to murmur against your ear. ‘Your smell, your lips… that beautiful arse.’

His broad hand came down hard on your bottom, grabbed you possessively and gasping with delight, you swayed against him.

‘Lucky for you,’ you answered and earned a soft chuckle from him.

You thought about resisting, pulling back to teach him a lesson for being so eager. You wanted to play a little, a little slap, and a little bit of rough. What was he like under that cool crisp exterior? Was he dull? Or was he fiery? You knew he played rugby in his limited free time and made regular use of The Company’s private gym.

So, just what was he like?

You lifted your face and moaned softly beneath the pressure of his kiss. He tasted just as you imagined. Expensive, masculine, luscious.

You pushed him back then, face brightening into a look of shock and faux outrage. Holding your hand against his broad chest you teased in a soft voice,

‘You. Didn’t. Ask.’

Henry gave you a sly grin and you were glad that there was nothing within reach on his desk because he effortlessly spun and then sprawled you across it. He dug his fingers into your hips and pulled you back just enough so that your bottom was presented perfectly to him.

You let out a squeak of surprise and bliss.

Well, you thought belatedly as he unzipped your skirt from the hem up, at least the zipper on the skirt was finally making its fantasy debut. You had purchased that skirt in the hopes that one day he would be doing exactly what he was doing now.

‘Mr. Cavill!’ you exclaimed, trying to swallow down a giggle as you attempted to press up from the surface of the desk. He chuckled, sounding smug behind you as one big hand eased across your back and pressed you down again.

‘Mmm,’ he murmured, voice soft with praise and anticipation as he stroked his fingertips up beneath the elastic of your garters, starting from where the laced edge of your thigh-highs ended, gliding elegantly up your overheated flesh, before fanning his hands to grasp you beneath your ass. He squeezed. Hard. And you let out a shuddering groan, only to bite down on the noise and jerk forward with a surprised gasp when Henry swiped a sturdy finger up the wet crotch of your panties.

You closed your eyes and when he leaned against you, you felt the press of his heavy erection through his expensive gabardine. You squirmed, and he leaned away to lightly slap your bottom.

‘Please… please Mr. Cavill,’ you whimpered when he stepped back.

God you felt so cold without him against your skin.

You reached back, scrabbling trembling fingers up under your flagrantly open skirt, hooking your fingers into the waistband of your panties, and attempted to pull them down. Henry stopped you and, grasping the edge of the thin pink scrap of material, giving it one sharp tug until it ripped easily.

Fuck.

His hand came down on your back again, holding you, and he licked the pad of his thumb before sliding it into your slick warmth.

‘Look at you. Look how wet you are. I love hearing you, baby,’ he growled, sucking your juice off of his fingers. ‘Taste so good.’

You heard him unbuckling and opening his trousers and bit down on your lower lip, ready for it. Yes, God. Yes, God, yes.

‘Do you remember rule number 10?’ he asked, leaning in close now, covering you with his hard body and rocking you up to your tiptoes. The scent of him made it hard to think.

Rule number 10 – internal contraception only.

‘Yes,’ you managed to say, your voice barely over a broken whisper. ‘Yes, Mr. Cavill. I remember. I ha-haven’t broken it.’

‘Good.’

Henry made a low noise in the back of his throat, a sound that rippled deliciously through you, and using both strong hands, he opened you. With a low growling gasp, he pushed so gently into you that you stilled suddenly and closed your eyes, shutting out every visual distraction in order to be able to deeply experience the heat and power of his sex. You arched and against the desk, splaying your hands but failing to hold onto anything. Seeing this, Henry lightly grasped your wrists and pulling them behind you, he pinned them together against your lower back.

‘I like you like this,’ he rumbled. ‘Be a good girl. You’ll be a good girl for me?’

It took a moment for your brain to start working enough to form a coherent response, but even when your brain engaged with rational thought, straying away from the thick, delectable cock easing hot and insistently into your body, you could only choke out,

‘Y-yes! Yes, Mr. Cavill. Yes. I’ll be good!’

Henry seemed satisfied with your enthusiastic compliance and then a short amused laugh came out of him when the phone on his desk twittered gaily.

You both stilled and you whimpered like a denied little puppy, your hands flexing against the slick, glossy desktop, nearly reaching out for the phone out of habit. It was your job to answer the phones for Henry, after all.

‘Answer it,’ he said and was magnanimous enough to release your hands and stop fucking you.

You naughty boy, you thought and with a trembling hand you reached for the desk phone.

The slim narrow plastic slipped a bit in your sweat-slick hand but your voice was surprisingly steady when you spoke between clenched teeth,

‘This is Henry Cavill’s office. How may I help you?’

A young woman’s chipper sounding voice started rattling off information that you were sure you should have been writing down, but all you could think about was that stiff cock nestling just that much deeper inside you. Henry rolled his hips just then and you clamped down on a squeal.

‘Bless you,’ the woman said.

You gasped and made a belated attempt at sniffling to support her assumption that you’d sneezed and not that you were getting a thorough seeing to by your boss.

‘Th-thank you. Is ahh.. is there anything else?’

There wasn’t, and when she ended the call, you just dropped the receiver and shoved back against him. Henry took this as a cue to redouble his efforts and you soon came apart beneath his expert handling.

Your orgasm took you quite by surprise as if a switch had been thrown and you buried your face in your arms, biting down on your forearm to keep from screaming as Henry gushed into you. Blood rushed to your head and you lay there, collapsed against the desk and didn’t move even when Henry finally drew back.

You listened to him cleaning himself up and then putting himself back into place.

‘Shall I?’ he asked and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him reach for the small box of tissues in that lacquered wood box you’d always admired.

You made a soft, blissful sound of assent and basked in the pleasurable strokes of impossibly soft tissues on your tender delicate areas. And you giggled at the final kiss Henry placed on your skin when he was done.

With clothes righted, and skirt securely zipped, you leaned against the desk and looked at him. He didn’t seem chagrined at what had just transpired, only satisfied and content.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ you admitted after a stretch of silence.

With the edge of his thumb, he stroked your cheek and curled the rest of his fingers beneath your chin. His kiss was tender and full of promise.

‘Have an early evening and tomorrow we need to discuss the Zurich trip.’

‘Yes, Mr. Cavill,’ you grinned and turned to leave the now overly warm office.

‘Come in early so that we can have breakfast together.’

Your heart leapt, but you kept your cool.

‘Yes, Mr. Cavill. Anything in particular that you want?’

‘Just you,’ he said.

Nodding, you closed the door behind you and did a full body dance.

The Company Woman indeed.

-end

[duchessavalentino]

Mob boss Henry?

Mob Boss Henry

[littlefreya]

The Crystal Ship - Part 2

Summary: Henry is the most dangerous crime lord in England, he has everything he wants and women throw themselves at his feet, but what really gets him off is what’s hard to get. Read Part One | Master List

Pairing: AU! Mafia Boss!Henry Cavill x OFC (Ash)

Word count: 7K

Warnings: Smutty Smut, MaleDom / FemSub, abuse of power, dirty language, size kink, rather bratty behavior, knife play, rough unprotected sex, bodily fluids.

A/N: Okay, part deux is here. Que: Freya having a panic attack. I hope I don’t let you guys down. Many thanks to @agniavateira​ who is my beta and supported me through and to @wondersofdreaming​ who helped me get out of my funk. 

Please leave feedback  💖🥺 and more importantly, enjoy.

Title: The Crystal Ship - Part Deux

“I’d like to fuck you.” 

His smooth baritone thundered like a storm inside her mind. 

It was a few minutes before midnight. Ash sat restlessly next to the white wooden vanity in her snug London pad. A place so ‘cosy’ that the double bed was squeezed between two naked walls. Space was definitely sparse, but it was enough for a life of solitude.

The silver card laid in her grasp, various colours curved upon the metallic surface, reflecting luminance onto her eyes. It has been the third night since her encounter with “the king of crime” himself, and his scent refused to depart. 

Smoky, spicy, indomitable. An intoxicating blend of desire and dismay. 

Henry was not seen at the club since that evening. In his absence, she spiralled into a squall of anxiety. She was scared of his return and yet the desire to see him was insatiable. The idea of the big, handsome beast returning to claim what he coveted made the hairs at the back of her neck stand up.

Don’t, just don’t. This is a man who can really fuck up your life. 

Indeed, what a man: an alpha, dwarfing any other guy who briefly entered and exited her life. 

And this powerful golden king wanted to be inside her.  

Her breath fell short just from the thought, while the phantom feeling of his touch shadowed at her breasts. Underneath her bra, stains of purple and yellow blended with her skin tone. 

This man can break you. 

Henry was the first man to touch her in 2 years, his large hands awakening the very dormant lonesome need inside. Desperately, she reached a hand to cup her breast in comfort and gave a miserable sigh. It was far from enough; her fickle skin demanded broken blood vessels and mingling sweat, the violence of skin slapping onto skin. 

She needed the big, dark, lust-filled danger with eyes like ice and luscious coal curls. 

This man could kill you. But you have already made your decision, haven’t you? 

The sharp corners of the cardboard stung the softness of her palm. It was then when she noticed her fist was squeezed tightly over the card. Splaying her hand open, she straightened the thick paper and mouthed the numbers that were inked onto the crumpled surface.

Will one time really be so bad? He might be a monster but at least he doesn’t look like one.

Ash’s heart began pounding as thrill poured in. Excitement flapped in her chest like a little bird in a cage, eager to be free.

~*~*~

Tiny drops of rain began falling on the ground as Ash waited beneath the penumbra of the lamp post. The gentle shower dampened her ponytail and filled her nose with the relaxing smell of the wet earth. It was quite chilly at that time of the year, but her faux leather jacket and skinny jeans felt like enough. 

The small street of her neighbourhood was dead that time of night, the red brick homes standing silent and bleak. It was the first time she preferred it that way, not wanting anyone to spot her being picked up by a stranger in the middle of the night. 

Waiting for Henry’s driver, she wondered how many times a week he would do these sort of pussy takeaways for his boss. Shame hinged on her mind, yet she assumed it wouldn’t matter much to a man who ran errands for England’s king of organized crime. It was too late to change her mind anyway. Henry knew she was on her way, and to go back from their contract would have been an insult. 

Bright lights blinded her vision as a black Bentley pulled into the driveway and a window rolled down. A man in his late 40s with striking blue eyes and hard lines trailing his face narrowed his eyes at her.

Suddenly wearing jeans and sneakers didn’t feel like the best of ideas, but a part of her dreaded the thought of playing a character just to appease “the king”. Her wardrobe was far from the outfits she wore at work, and wearing high heels all day took a toll on her aching ankles.    

“Ashleigh?” The driver asked in a husky Cockney accent.

She nodded and offered him a polite smile while he remained stoic. Not bothering to introduce himself, he stepped out of the car: a tall, lean man, wearing a dark tailored suit and an earpiece which she gathered was used to help him respond to his boss quickly.

Holding one hand behind his back the way Ash only saw in the movies, the driver moved toward the door. 

“There is no need, I can get it myself.” she waved him off but the man ignored and opened it for her, gesturing toward the creme-coloured leather seat.

“Boss insists you’d be treated like a lady,” he explained and waited for her to step inside. 

Ash released a long sigh and stepped inside the Bentley. The backseat was spacious and smelled new. Even the seatbelts were stylized to blend with the colours of the car. The only thing that didn’t fit was her and her £15 worth of denim. Feeling awkward and out of place, she leaned back and buckled in. 

A small white bag was laid on the seat next to her. Ash eyed it carefully and flinched in her seat as if it was a trap of some sort. 

“For a lady,” the driver spoke as he saddled himself back in his seat and ignited the car. Ash peered at him through the rearview mirror and their eyes met for a split second. There was a smile on his face but for some reason, it felt degrading. 

~*~*~

Heavy grunts filled the room, followed by the heavy, blunt noise of bones mashed beneath muscle and fat. Thick crimson blood sprayed onto the wall and some on his face. Henry released a sigh and paused, wiping the misguided drops from his face with a small towel while his chest heaved with effort. 

“What an unfortunate turn of events,” he spoke to the men who watched unmoved and stood quietly behind him. The victim strapped to the chair was still breathing, a choking sound cracking from his mouth. Shaking his head, Henry lifted his fist again when the vibration of his phone halted him mid-air. 

Exhaling with frustration, he grabbed the phone from his pocket and answered, tilting his head with a disgusted expression as translucent bubbles of blood and snot came out of the man’s mutilated nose.     

“She’s upstairs at the main door, Sir,” Sean spoke on the other line.

“Leave her at the front door,” he replied and hung up the call. 

Henry wrung his hands to remove the bloodied brass knuckles. He hung them from his fingers until one of his men quickly reached to take them from him. 

“Finish this and leave for the night,” he ordered and shrugged on his suit, checking his sleeves to make sure he was clean of blood splatter.  

~*~*~

Mr. Cavill’s villa hid amidst a landscape of boxed family homes like an evil mansion from a fairytale. Large grey graphite bricks surrounded three stories with dark-tinted windows so vast it was impossible to peek into the house from the outside. 

Her hand trembled as she rang the doorbell. The bag was scrunched between her fingers, her knees nearly giving in as she heard the lock twist and the door shift open. Leaning against the doorframe, Henry puffed his chest, a low hum rumbling in his throat as he drank the small woman in. His bulky features blocked the entire entrance and a hint of a smile twitched at the corners of his perfect lips as he noticed the apprehension that drifted from her like cheap perfume. 

Fright and passion twisted into a single rope as the beautiful monster attempted to conciliate her. Near-angelic curls framed his carved face, his pale skin freshly shaven and a golden glow layered his face. A beast so civilized and attractive: donned in a three-piece navy suit and a pale cerulean shirt, yet the sinister glint that sparkled in the steel of his sight exposed his true nature.

Ash made a quick study to appreciate what was in front of her when her ears and brow suddenly burnt with silent panic. A faint crimson smudge peered beneath the thick bundle of the dark earthy curls on his forehead while another much apparent blood splatter soiled the edge of his shirt’s sleeve.

Henry’s welcoming smirk faded as he noticed the colour draining from her face and the small cavity that formed between her lips. Trailing the path of her gaze, his sight landed on the brownish trace of blood. He sighed, calmly adjusting his suit to hide the stain. 

Bloody fantastic. 

Sickness spread through Ash’s pumping veins, the terror that wormed itself into the back of her brain twisted and bent her perception. Escape was a futile idea that she brushed away like a pestering fly. Her survival instincts failed, the sense of looming peril doing nothing but beat her blood to run and draw herself to him. 

It wasn’t courage that made her offer a pacifying smile, but fine recklessness. 

Henry could see the battle in her big hazel eyes. Logic was defeated by the spear of terror and attraction. It smelled delicious. He hoped to further play with this sensation later tonight, but not to the point of traumatizing the poor girl. 

“Finally she arrives,” Henry broke the silence and teased her in his deep bass.  

The young woman appeared much smaller with her flat, worn sneakers. The top of her head edged at his shoulder which he found both cute and arousing. There was nothing she could do to fight him; he would have her in any way he’d choose. 

Noticing his observant glare and his expensive suit, she shrugged her shoulders and smiled with faint amusement. The difference in class was so evident it was screaming in the narrow distance between them.

“Not what you’re used to, isn’t it?”

“No, but don’t worry about that, you won’t be wearing that for long.” he answered and cocked his eyebrow up at her with mischief. 

Ash kept a straight face yet inside she was already a trembling, gasping mess. “Then it’s a good thing I didn’t bother wearing a bra.”

He fought the laughter that circled in his chest. There was something charming about the striking opposite between the succubus he saw at the Imperial club and the mousy girl who stood in front of him right now. Yet the power she had over him was not absent. If anything, it felt even stronger without the assistance of sexy lingerie and heavy makeup. 

It must have been the way in which she fought her own fear and willingly walked into the fire, knowing it would sear yet welcomed it anyway. 

And he indeed had plans to make every part of her sore.  

“Please, come inside.”

Ash’s heart pounded at her rib cage like an angry fist as Henry moved aside and allowed her to pass. The sound of the door closing behind her and the slow recoil of his breath sent a cold sweat beneath her clothes.

Walking into his house with shaky legs, she felt as if she was descending into the underworld. The pearly black marble on the floor spread throughout the house like an endless night sky with sparkling stars that glittered between the creases. The walls were of heavy grey paint, decorated by large abstract pieces of art that only birthed slight colour into the darkness. 

Hades’ realm, Ash mused as she stepped further inside, impressed by the modern golden chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. There was something erotic about the decor of the house, sensually chilling like the man who lived in it.        

“Beautiful place,” she noted, standing in front of him and letting her curious eyes venture through each decorated archway and every single door. Quietly, she wondered how many skulls this malicious man had counted to fund such a lovely place to live. 

“I guess I chose the wrong profession.” she teased before allowing her daring glare to rest upon his. “Doing whatever you do must be more profitable than showing your tits to strangers.”

Henry tilted his head at her with wonder and wrapped his large arms across his chest, his blue eyes giving a sharp warning spark. The fluffy little bunny was now a captive in the lion’s den and instead of lying on her back, she poked the lion at his loins. 

Oddly, it was just as pleasing as it was agitating.

“You really like to play with fire, don’t you?” Henry retorted, his voice lowered by an octave to scare her, yet awe and fascination danced in his eyes as if he dared her to show him more. 

Ash observed him carefully, reading into the beautiful lines that defined his strong face. She allowed herself to drown in the cold molten metal and felt the chill as it surrounded and seeped into her lungs. 

Like a game of cards, she played herself right into his hand. 

“I guess I like being burnt.”

Her past relationship would have definitely proven that notion to be true. Yet something told her Mr. Cavill was a man who would mess her up far worse than any other man she had.

Content by her reaction, the broad man crept closer, his shadow darkening her delicate face while his proximity alone sucked whatever oxygen remained in her labouring lungs. 

“Don’t worry then, I’m about to fuck you so hard your skin and other certain parts will catch flames,” he paused, a slanted leer skewed onto his face as he watched the courage drain from her eyes in seconds. “Isn’t that what you’re here for, little Ashleigh?”

Ash's breath caught in her throat. Passion and anxiety weaved in her gut while her heart shrunk. She couldn’t even muster an appropriate response. Her fingers clutched around the bag, knuckles sweaty and white.   

Henry flicked his tongue over his bottom lip and in a gentleness that was completely surprising, took the bag from her clenched fist. Being so nervous, she didn’t even think to peek inside.

Smirking seductively, he reached a hand into the bag and pulled out a silky red fabric. The material was so thin and slick it felt like liquid in his grasp. Letting the bag fall to the floor, he took the straps between his index fingers and held it in front of her.

“Lovely!” Ash exclaimed, looking at the cherry red maxi dress which suspiciously appeared to be in her size, or at least close enough.  

“I’d like you to wear this tonight.” Henry asked with a tinge of demand in his heavenly voice. 

Ash frowned, bewildered by his request. This was supposed to be a quick hookup. She didn’t plan to have any clothes on yet there she was, playing dress-up with London’s kingpin.

“Do I get to refuse?”

The corner of his lips stretched into a wider grin, forming a deep dimple that lined down his cheek. A smile which made him irresistible and turned her legs boneless.

“You surrendered your free will the moment you stepped inside my house."

Ash stared deep into Henry’s beautiful eyes, reading into the coldness of his glare and finding nothing but severe honesty. A stabbing memory of his words from their first encounter echoed in her mind: He was not one to beg. After a short hesitation, she took the dress while giving him an equally chilly glare. 

The fabric was so delicate it “melted” within her grip. She trembled at the imagination of how sensual it would feel on her bare skin. 

“Where?”

“Bedroom is upstairs, the last door on the left,” He replied and gestured his head toward the large cast of stairs that led to the upper floor. “Don’t go into the room next to it, you’re not going to like what you’ll find.”

~*~*~

His bedroom was just as large and dark as the rest of his house. Taking off her old sneakers and ridding herself of her socks, she toed the black furry carpet that covered the entire room. The large bed was neatly made and it almost felt like a sin to sink onto it. But she imagined she was going to end her night pressed to it one way another, so she allowed herself the luxury to sit down before discarding her clothes. 

Henry’s scent rose from the mattress in an invisible cloud of fumes: strong and earthy. It made her feeble as if she was under his hypnotic powers. Bare to her lace underwear, small fantasies of him pinning her down to this very mattress began slipping into her mind. 

The man was a beast to be feared and yet she soaked at the need to drown in his musk. 

Sighing deeply she rose from the mattress and stood to her knees, flinging the expensive dress over her head. The red material fell down the valley of her body like wine into glass. 

Henry waited at the bottom of the steps. Anticipation and awe were beaming in his eyes like two large shiny diamonds. The red fabric spilt like a river of blood down her petite form as she appeared in front of him, the material so thin he could see the outline of her hard nipples and the soft bounce of her breasts.  

Ash paused a few steps before the edge, nearly matching Henry in height whilst standing barefoot on the cold marble of the stairs. The king of the night sucked his lips in, his thick dark eyebrows crooked with the mischief of a hungry wolf. Staring at his face, Ash felt herself getting lost in the celestial constellation of his irises, different hues of blue, brown and green blended in what she thought to be the most beautiful eyes she ever saw.   

“Such a small girl,” he mocked and reached two steady hands to her small waist and gripped her tightly. Ash let out a small shriek. Henry lifted her with disturbing ease, his thumbs pressing into the bones of her ribs before he set her back on the ground in front of him. 

Towering above her, the familiar musk seeped into her lungs as she inhaled his scent. Spiced Whiskey. Ash parted her lips, her body ablaze as he leaned closer and looked at her through a hazy glance. His fingers caressed the side of her body, setting little vibrations through her skin. 

Scoffing at the expression of yearning on her face, he lifted one hand to the back of her head and slowly pulled her hair tie loose, letting the long raven waves hang loosely at the small of her back. 

“Better,” he breathed, half whispering against her lips. “Shall we?” 

Henry wrapped his long fingers around her slim wrist and led her through his house. The callous pads of his fingers pressed against the base, feeling her pulse which raced irregularly.

They arrived at what seemed like a dining room. A large table made of timber and dark glazed lava stone stood in the centre of the narrow chamber, set to a romantic dinner for two. A large bucket of ice with a bottle of champagne was placed at the base next to two plates with sirloin steaks and steamed vegetables.

“I hope you are hungry,” Henry murmured, letting go of her hand and pulling the chair behind her like a perfect gentleman. Ash registered his polite behaviour, musing at the fact that no man has ever treated her this way before. Standing behind her, his fingers latched around her bony shoulders and pushed her down forcefully. A small huff escaped her as her ass slammed onto the seat.

He moved to the other side of the table, sitting right in front of her. “My chef thought you might be a sirloin type of woman,” Henry spoke as he grabbed the large serrated steak knife in his hand. “You look like a girl who enjoys a little bit of meat in her mouth.”

Ash frowned at his insult and stared down at the juicy piece of meat on her plate. No hunger evoked in her gut. Perhaps it was the hour of the night or the fact that her stomach was turned over and paraded by a variety of different sensations.

“Do you have these dates, often?” She wondered aloud and watched as Henry began slicing himself a hefty piece of meat. 

Stabbing his fork into the steak, he paused thoughtfully and gave a small shrug. 

“Every now and then.”

Leaning onto her elbow, she stared at the man with intrigue, watching how he chewed his food ever so elegantly. Civilized beast. 

“What do you guys talk about, your hopes and dreams?” She could have hardly fought the snide in her voice.

Henry averted his eyes to hers. The young woman gave a goading smirk while her food remained untouched. Laying down his cutlery, he wiped his mouth with a small purple napkin. The gold of his signet ring blinded her eye as his hand shifted.

“What are the hopes and dreams of a stripper?” 

Even though it was meant to shame her, Ash smiled. No one has asked her what she wanted in ages. 

“To get away from the men who harmed me,” she answered sincerely.

Henry spotted the twinge in her eyes. Tiny little wrinkles formed above the bridge of his nose as his brows knit together. “Who are the men who harmed you, Ashleigh?”

There was a mixture of concern and silent rage in his eyes and even the demand in his voice was mingled with care. It left her dumbfounded. She didn’t expect a monster to look so dangerous and compassionate at once. 

Especially not for a woman he had no other intentions toward other than fucking.

“Ex-boyfriend.”

Learning the pain on her face, he picked up the knife again and spun it slowly in his hand. Tarnished by grease, the light broke on the stainless steel and shone brightly onto his eyes. 

“All you have to do is give me his name.” 

Ash’s lips parted with awe, smitten by the way his beautiful eyes darkened. Something twisted inside her, a sort of sick fascination that made blood pool at the apex of her pelvis.

“You really do kill people…” she uttered as if surprised. 

Stern silence broke across the room. Ash could hear the flutter of blood that throbbed like the flapping of wings in her ears. Henry stared back, his face giving no emotion. Why should a monster apologize for what it is? What it was born into.

“You’re afraid of me, aren’t you?” Henry broke the silence, his smooth voice doing nothing to ease the rush of searing heat that raged in her core. To her horror, she pulsated with an aching will.

“Yes,” she confessed and her face beamed. It felt as if she was watching the room from outside, thrilled by the tension that rang in the air like a buzzing hornet nest.

“And yet you came here freely” Henry noted and then shook his head. “Eat your food before it gets cold.” he chided, stabbing into the sirloin while never breaking his gaze from hers.

Ash regarded his voice carefully, peering at the sharp knife that rested in his fist. By all means, she believed she should despise him; he was a vicious man, harming and exploiting others. He even abused his power over her and yet staring at his sheer intimidating size, the only thing she felt was the need to get lost in him.

“I like danger.”

In a sudden spike of bravery, the young woman jumped onto the table, her bare feet landing softly on the flat surface, tapping gently as she moved from side to side with sensual grace. Henry’s eyes widened, his nostrils flaring as she turned and glimpsed at him from above her shoulder.

“I don’t eat dinner after 7 PM.”she remarked, her voice like velvet as she slid her foot next to her plate and guided it off the table like a cat abusing its owner. The sirloin steak landed flat onto the clean marble floor, followed by the plate that smashed into large pieces.

Henry scowled, watching the young woman with growing irritation. 

“What are you doing?” he demanded, steam rising from his breath.

Ash gave him a daring look, chuckling while sliding the cutlery from her side of the table across to the sharp edge. The clattering noise of metal hitting the floor rang a chaotic sound.

“Get down from there!” Henry demanded, clenching his jaw at the sight of the rebellious woman. 

Riddled with passion her hands clutched the fiery-red fabric and lifted the hem of her dress to expose her slender ankle. She looked like a fire elemental, a tenacious dancing flame. The dress wrapped tight and then loosened with every shift of her muscles, making Henry twitch with need.

The exhilaration swarmed in her tendons like thick hot oil. This man could kill you, she reminded herself, exhaling a flush of hot air while she moved closer toward Henry’s beautiful sulking face. Her tongue made a slippery trail around her lips, delightful of the anger that bloomed in the cerulean of his irises. The changing hues whispered all the bad things he wanted to do to her.  

Damn, she wanted to be ripped apart. 

Moving sensually, her leg hung in the air, reaching her toes to tip the ice bucket to the other side. Dragging onto the stone surface, the metal screeched horridly before it rolled to the edge. 

Henry reached a quick hand, catching the bottle and the bucket seconds before it fell to the floor. Wet, cold, cubes of ice slipped on his palms before winding on the floor, leaving the sleeves of his suit tarnished with freezing water. Wringing his wet wrists, he blazed at her behaviour.

“I said: get. off. from. the. table.” he repeated himself slowly, emphasizing every word with a drop of his voice. His chest heaved and sank languidly, the thin thread of self-restraint stretching to a painful taut line.

“Or what?” Ash taunted, moving toward him with a seductive smirk on her reckless face. “You’ll kill me? You haven’t even fucked me yet.” 

Henry tilted his head at the woman who soared above him. She had a smile full of teeth and evil nymph-like giggles. The red rivers of her dress floated in the air as she tugged it between her slim fingers. 

The blood boiled in his veins as he watched her rhythmic sway. Aphrodisia spiralled in the warm honey of her eyes, her lust-swollen lips chanting a call to the hunter within him. Fisting the knife’s wooden hilt, he sustained a low growl and inhaled deeply. 

He could smell her. Fervent, thick, dripping between her thighs.

“You want to be fucked and killed, little minx?”

His long digits circled a delicate ankle and then snapped around the bone, pulling down without a care. Ash shrieked in horror as she lost her balance, finding herself sprawled with her backside hitting the polished lava stone.

Her scream still echoed between the walls.

Terrified by his aggression, Ash attempted to crawl away but Henry left no room for that. His large hand captured her neck, forcing her flat on the table while he rose to his feet and hovered above her. 

“That can be arranged,” his voice was guttural, his eyes tinged with famine-like a primal thing that sought for nothing but to feed his hunger. Clutching at the serrated knife, he brought it beneath her chin. 

Ash’s lips gaped and her eyes widened, terror flickering as the sharp edge pricked the delicate skin. The tiniest of yelps shook through her throat involuntarily, making Henry break into a sinister, dry laugh. 

“You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, have you?”

His glare bore into hers, piercing sharper than the knife that slid down the arch that connected her jaw and her throat. “You are playing games with a very dangerous man,” he warned, his digits tightening and controlling the amount of air that entered her lungs. Panic rose in her chest, her breasts perked and in her gut, something whirled uneasily. 

“Have you killed many women?” she inquired, her voice breaking into a husky whisper. Her throat felt like a drought. His musk became more prominent, intensifying as something vicious slithered into his soul, black and thick like tar. 

“Only the ones who act like brats.” he sneered, lifting the knife and then snaking the silver blade at the deep cavity of her collar bone, descending to her chest ever so slowly. Ash swallowed hard, feeling the coldness of the sharp object as it danced across her flesh while Henry pushed himself to stand between her legs.

She was strangled, spread and had a knife edged to her chest like a fresh prey. Within the horror, arousal bloomed, wet and drenching in her pit. Surrendering her will, she lifted her arms and threw them above her head. 

“How many people have you killed?” 

Henry dragged the sharp steel at the cleavage of the red dress. He released her neck and held the soft fabric tightly as he began to tear it down, slicing the blood-coloured silk apart with malice. 

“Too many to remember,” he murmured, working the knife between the fabric and watching the patches of skin being unravelled to him. “Beautiful,” he uttered as cut by cut, the little nymph was once again his to admire, her skin glowing with a soft layer of sweat, her little breasts still bearing his marks.  

Her entire body squirmed, spasming and shuddering as Henry unwrapped what was now his to play with. The sound of every rip and tear turned her blood to ice. The knife sliced all the way down until the dress was nothing and Ash was bare but for her black lace underwear.

She lifted her head to watch as Henry stood between her folded legs. His vast erection stood hard in his trousers, he gave it an aching rub and then inched closer and grabbed her knee, sliding her closer to the edge so her groin met his.

The sinful friction made them moan in perfect synergy, their collision scintillating as they ground against one another. They panted and hissed, overwhelmed at the pleasant heat that poured from their groins. Ache gathered in her loins, the desperation reminding her how weak she was, wanting him to corrupt and brutalize her body. 

“Take me!” she demanded from the crime lord, her lip a quiver as she watched him soar above her like a cruel king, her covered pelvis squirming harder. 

“Please, Henry, Sir, I want you!”

Henry gave a wolfish grin, his hand reached for her throat and squeezed tightly, he surged her toward him and took her lips in a violent, punishing kiss that claimed her breath. His tongue invaded her mouth with no pardon, setting fumes down her throat. 

He broke away with a bite on the softness of her lips.

“I am not done playing with you,” he rasped and slammed her back down the surface. Placing the blade between his teeth, arrogance painted his face as he rid himself of his top, layer by layer until he stood firm and admirable like a god. A cascade of amber lights and twilight flowed down muscles so large they mocked her smallness. His pecs were hard, squared pillows, brushed by dark fur that trailed down to his abdomen and disappeared below his trousers.

It wasn’t fair; no man should be so beautiful, especially not a civilized savage. The evil king played with all of her senses and she knelt before him, taken by everything he was.

Taking the knife out from his mouth, he pressed the brazen teeth onto her sternum. “Such sweet markings,” he growled at the bruises he gave her, letting the blade move and circle the rounded outline of her small breasts. 

“Maybe I’ll leave a few permanent lines, so you can remember what happens when you misbehave.” 

Ash let a shuddered gasp, she tried to stop herself from moving, sucking the air and holding it in but the sharp edge that traced her nipple dangerously made it impossible. “I don’t think your customers will appreciate a scarred stripper.” 

Henry chuckled dryly and shook his head, lowering the blade along the cleft of her torso and leaving a fair red trail as he grazed a layer of her skin. 

“Once I am done with you, you won’t dance at the club anymore.”

Ash sighed loudly, feeling the throb inside the yearning became unbearable. He descended below her navel, cutting dangerously close to her sacred nest. His hand sensed the heat that radiated from her lace-donned cunt. Entwining her favourite garment between his fingers, he pointed the knife between her skin and the delicate fabric and destroyed it with ease.

Ash hissed, her stomach tucked in, her eyes flared like a prey acknowledging its own demise. “Are you going to kill me?” 

“I might,” he answered without a drop of emotion, licking his lips as he saw the wetness that glistened in the dim light. “Does it excite you?” 

“Yes…” she broke, feeling him trace the swollen lines of her womanhood carefully, fold by fold, freezing cold against her heat. Once the small tip dipped into her entrance and collected silent drops of lust, she wheezed.

“But first, I’m going to fuck the brat out of you” Henry exclaimed darkly and discarded the knife on the table. His hand snapped at his belt, unbuckling hastily. His large cock stood heavy, glorious, and thick amidst an onyx sea-foam of curls. Tensed by his size, Ash squirmed backwards on the table, convinced she couldn’t take him, yet the vicious smirk on his face assured her she will. She must.

“Come here.” he chided, his hands locking around her knees, pulling her toward him and manhandling her to a position he found suitable. His height cast a dark shadow over her face as he leant down and hooked her legs over his shoulders, leaving her behind to hover in the air.

Doe eyes, lips trembling with fear yet bitten with wanton - she drove him mad, flinging herself around him with such provocation. But when she broke, she broke hard. He wanted this dance to last. Fisting his cock he lined himself in her entrance, crooning at the mewl she made as the drops of precum smeared on her clit and his head bobbed at her cavern.  

“The things I’ll do to you...” he growled and plunged inside.

The air kicked from her lungs as his meaty cock tore into her body. Hot flashes of heat swarmed from her core like ardent flames, accompanied by a broken cry that chimed in his ears like a beautiful song. The beast was thick and stone-hard between her sanctified folds, stretching her to the point of pain yet he kept sinking in, lifting her ass further in the air to gain a better path inside her.

“So bloody tight.” he grunted slowly, feeling the zealous grip of her cunt around his girth. “but taking me all the way in.”

“Fuck!” Salty tears watered the rims of her lids. Eyes snapping shut, she yelped. He was big in every sense, searing her as he bottomed in. But amidst the pain, pleasure grew, and his brutal invasion ignited warm sparks of ecstasy that licked her spine. Entwined with bliss and whisk of twinge, her fingers gripped the edge of the table, nails scratching the stone with despair while more profanities cracked from her lips. 

Henry frowned at her words, his talons clutching her thighs, leaving broken blood vessels beneath her skin. 

“Still a fucking brat, even with my cock inside you.” he chided and shook his head. His eyes did not dare to leave her face, wanting to memorize every second of how hopeless she looked with him balls-deep in her tiny little cunt.

He gave but a moment to adjust, merely for his sake. Being squeezed between her succulent walls was bliss. She felt like home, yanking him deeper like a siren drowning a sailor into the abyss.

“You were made for this,” he spoke and damn if she didn’t. Ash felt as if she was always meant to shape him, to host this man’s brazen desires. Seeking inside her soul, she wanted to hate herself, to hate him but the fire burning in her chest spoke otherwise. Their bodies fit in a purest of forms.

Slow yet rough, he began to stroke inside her, emitting breathless, low moans while he tugged her body into his hips with vigour. Droplets of sweat rolled down his brow, his wide chest steaming as he controlled her body the way he would muster a machine, rutting back and forth earnestly.

It felt as if she lost power over her body, the only sparse freedom she had was to squirm helplessly, sobbing cries of joy and delirium as fire engulfed her from within while Henry fucked into her with unrelenting fury.

His nails bit into the muscles of her legs. With every thrust, he watched dazed at the way her gut shifted with his cock thrusting deeper inside. Like a predator rutting its prey between his fangs, he shook and shifted her body on occasion. There she was, completely at his dominion, despaired yet aching for more. 

And more he gave her, fucking her raw like a touched-depraved animal.

“Please don’t stop!” she cried for him, feeling the heat spilling from her gut, tinders tingling from her seam and through the threshold of her body. The fire arose from her apex, inferno spreading as she fell intoxicated to the sight of the evil man who exploits her, using her like a fucktoy to fulfil his needs. The muscles of his torso flexed inward, his chest heaved and he never broke eye contact, staring right into her soul while he filled her body. 

He was beautiful, and he was hers for this single moment. 

Bound in a primal union that burnt hotter than the sun.

With the plunge of his wet cock against her cervix, the flames spread to each corner of her soul until she felt consumed by the rapture, coming into a quivering mess. Howling cries broke from her lips. The tighter she got, the harder he slammed into her, continuing to fuck her through her orgasm, ignoring the contractions that demanded to suck him dry. 

Furrowing his brow he battered furiously into her, his balls slapping against her cunt. Lewd noise of flesh slapping sounded in the room, accompanied by Henry’s groans. “You want me to come inside your cunt?” he rasped, fucking her brutally, his thighs breaking into her ass with every loud thrust.

“Yes, sir!” she answered pathetically as a second orgasm began to ignite itself quickly. Henry’s fingers dug into her thighs, pulling her until he was buried balls-deep. She felt him swell hot and thick between her tremoring walls and with one last thrust, they came together. Henry’s shuddering grunt vibrated through the room as he released himself hot and thick inside her.

Ash gasped at the heat that washed inside her womb, slumping back as another hot wave of pleasure washed through her while he reached hand to pump his cock with a long, slow sigh, emptying whatever was left in him. 

Finally, he pulled out and crouched above her with his muscular arms locking her beneath his body. 

The sight of his seed trickling down from her swollen cunt felt almost as good as fucking her. Knowing he left a piece of him inside. Still panting, she shifted up slightly, feeling the burning mess between her thighs. Henry swallowed another grunt as his breath shortened and then reached to cradle her jaw, his coarse thumb grazing her lips. 

“Now that I’m done with you I suppose I can kill you.”  

Ash stared into his steel-blue eyes, shuddering with both effort and terror that pinched her heart. Her body tried to crawl into itself and the cold chuckle that rumbled in his throat did nothing but strengthen her fear.

He shook his head and then took her in his arms, lifting her with ease. One hand glided down her spine and the other held her waist, forcing her to wrap both her arms and legs around him for support.

“It was a joke, sweetheart.” He swallowed. 

“I’m not done with you.”

Silence fell between them, fulfilled with nothing but the wheeze of air that surged through their mouths. Hugging his neck, Ash stared at him mesmerized by the calm beauty that he became, suddenly looking vulnerable. Defying her better judgment, she kissed the curve of his cheek and traced the salty sweat with her tongue. 

To her great surprise, it seemed to calm him. 

Softness was rare, nearly foreign. The others were always too frightened to do anything but let him fuck them but she was tough even when she stood no chance, she dared to give a predator some solace when others would flee. And this combination of tenderness and defiance was just what he lacked. He imagined that once she’ll trust him, the games between them will grow even more outrageous. 

His fingers moved to clutch her jaw, his eyes piercing into hers. “You are not going to work at the club anymore,” he warned.

“But...” she began to reason with him foolishly only to be answered by the shake of his head and a forbidding smile.

“You are mine now, darling and I don’t share.”   

Tightening his grip around her, he began to march out of the dining room and then toward the stairs, his hand holding possessively over her spine. Ash kept her lips sealed and laid her head onto his large shoulder, allowing herself to relax into his body. Being in this captivity felt nice.

Little did she know, she was the first woman to stay the night in his lair.

Enjoying the way she clutched onto him, he promised himself she will be the only exception. 

________________________________________________________