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queenshelby · 2 days

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Sweet Possession (Part 2)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

The following day, however, brought a gloomy atmosphere into the room as, at around 6 o'clock, there was a knock on your bedroom door, causing you to startle.

Until that night, you had never shared a bed with Tommy , and the thought of being interrupted whilst still lying naked next to him made you shudder.

"Who is it?" Thomas barked, quickly wrapping a white sheet around his waist.

"It's Arthur," came the distorted voice of Tommy's older brother, resulting in Tommy jumping out of the bed, collecting his briefs from the floor and throwing them on. "What is it, Arthur?" Tommy asked as he hurriedly opened the door to reveal Arthur, standing there, waving at you while you simply blushed with embarrassment.

"Something's happened," Arthur blurted out. "Down at the docks."

Tommy looked at you, hunched up on the bed, clutching a sheet to your bare breasts. "Go put some clothes on, Love. I'll be back soon," he signaled to you, and you nodded in silence.

As soon as Tommy left the room, you crawled off the bed to gather your scattered garments from the floors, wondering what the problem was on site.

Since you moved into Tommy's house, there had been a lot of trouble at the docks and in his factories and when you asked your now husband about it, he would usually brush it off.

He often put it down to strikes or interruptions due to equipment breakdown and, as his partner in life, of course, you believed him.

Tommy was a businessman, not a criminal, and whilst you thought that his brother and Gypsie acquaintances were rather rough around the edged, you knew that Tommy was a good man.

He was a man who would do anything for you and you appreciated his kindness and the love he gave you, especially after you had been abandoned by all the other men in your life before him.

Even your older brother left you to your own devices when you were just seventeen, moving away from Birmingham without a word, as a result of which the home your parents had partially owned was being foreclosed on.

You had no choice but to move out and find work to sustain yourself, to be able to maintain a roof over your head and pay for your rent. And even then, it didn’t always suffice.

You were fired from three jobs until you found work at the Garrison and now you knew that you never had to work again.

Tommy took care of you now, treated you well and, even though he was determined to have children with you, he respected your wishes to wait.

He bought you horse, a white stallion and you were assigned not one, but two maids, which was something you always considered to be odd.

If you wanted to go to town and spend some time shopping, Tommy had a maid and a driver accompany you and today wasn't much different when you decided to head into the city of Birmingham for some groceries.

"Mrs Shelby, there really is no need. I can send an errand boy to do the shopping," Frances told you as you waved the list of items you wanted to buy in her perfectly manicured face with excitement.

"But I insist Frances. I want to do the shopping and then, tonight, I will cook a nice meal for my husband," you told her politely, seeing that you had always enjoyed to cook but had not done so ever since you moved to Arrow House.

"Very well, Mrs Shelby. Whatever you wish," she answered in a silky voice that reeked of credulousness.

"Fabulous. I know a really nice Italian Grocer by the Canal side. Do you think Isiah could drive me there?" you asked, knowing that Tommy was always rather worried about your safety and wouldn't have liked you driving yourself. Frances hesitated for a moment. "Of course, Mrs. Shelby," she said bluntly, but not without a hint of hesitation in her voice. "I'll call Isiah right away."

You smiled appreciatively at Frances and headed off to the bathroom, quickly freshening up before heading to the car that would take you to the Italian grocer.

The car ride was comfortable and peaceful, and you couldn't help but marvel at how much your life had changed since you first met Thomas Shelby.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the car pulled up to the front of the grocery store.

The sun was shining brightly outside, illuminating the bustling streets of Birmingham and casting a warm glow on the picturesque canal that ran along the side of the store.

You stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. The sound of laughter and conversation drifted towards you from nearby cafes and pubs, mixing with the distant horns and clatter of the ships moving through the canal locks.

"My mother always took me here when I was little. It's a nice little shop run by a lovely Italian family. My older brother, Alfred, used to bring me here all the time too, just after payday, before-" You paused, your smile faltering slightly. "Before he left to god knows where," you finished, your voice barely above a whisper and Isiah simply nodded with sympathy while you stepped into the shop.

The smell of coffee and bread greeted you as the door jingled shut behind you. Despite the modern facade, the interior remained cozy with a wooden counter in the middle that displayed a variety of pasta and cured meats. On the shelves, colorful tins of tomatoes and olive oil lined the walls.

Remembering the list in your hand, you carefully navigating your way through the narrow aisles and stocked up on your ingredients.

"I am sorry ma'am, but we don't serve Blinders here," one of the Italians said to you as you roamed through the shop and, since you had no idea what the man was talking about, you just laughed nervously.

"Excuse me?" you queried, confused while Isiah appeared behind you, flashing the gun hidden beneath his jacket, thinking that you wouldn't notice.

"We don't want any trouble miss," the stocky man corrected himself quickly, and you quickly blinked, trying to process what was happening.

"Why would I give you trouble?" you asked innocently, unable to make sense of what exactly was going and Isiah then politely urged you to finish up your shopping.

Without another word, you filled up your basket, paid for your groceries and left the store, feeling a sudden chill in the air despite the brilliant sunshine.

Isiah escorted you back to the waiting car in silence but you had so many questions that needed answering, but you refrained yourself from asking, believing that your new husband would soon explain everything to you when you returned home.

The short car ride was again filled with a heavy silence and you couldn’t help but feel unsettled.

As you walked through the front door, Frances took the groceries from your hands and you made your way upstairs to your bedroom to get changed. After a quick shower, you slipped into a nice but comfortable dress that Thomas had given to you as a gift.

You stared at yourself in the mirror and felt a pang of happiness in your chest. Your life had changed so dramatically since being with him and you couldn’t deny that you were happy.

You then made your way downstairs to unpack the groceries and start cooking. It was still early but you knew that the dish you were making had to sit in the oven for almost eight hours on low heat, so you knew to better get cracking. You were pleased with the simplicity and warmth of the task at hand, letting your mind relax as you chopped and sautéed the vegetables and meat.

As you worked, you couldn’t help but wonder about the strange encounter you had at the grocer. The man’s peculiar reference to “Blinders” and the sudden appearance of Isiah’s gun were both alarming and confusing. But, you shook the thoughts away, telling yourself that there was likely a simple explanation.

Tommy had an explanation for everything and, just as you were thinking about him, he came walking through the door of the large and rarely used kitchen in wing one of Arrow House, far away from the staff quarters. He greeted you with a gentle kiss on the cheek before pouring himself a glass of whiskey and looking at you contently.

"How did you go?" you asked your husband , referring to whatever business he had down at the docks.

Thomas took a sip of his whiskey, eyeing you carefully. "Fine," he told you. "There was some stock missing, but we dealt with it," Thomas explained, leaving out the gruesome details of the beating he ordered his men to give out.

"You know I employed a chef to do the cooking, Love ," Thomas said, changing the subject as he watched you chopping the vegetables.

"I'm aware, but I love to cook for you. I am your wife and this is what wives do, isn't it?" you smirked at Thomas, challenging him.

Thomas chuckled lightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he took another sip of his drink. "Yes, of course. I suppose it is," he conceded, a heartfelt smile playing on his lips as he drew closer from behind.

Thomas encircled your waist with one arm and nuzzled your neck softly, causing you to giggle and shiver at the same time.

"You look quite sexy in that dress and apron, Love ," Thomas murmured in your ear, giving it a slight nibble that triggered a heated blush infiltrating your cheeks.

You glanced at him with a playful smile before turning around, your hands instinctively moving to rest on his muscular chest, only to feel the outline of his gun sitting firmly in its halter.

"Why would you need to carry a gun?" you whispered, turning your head slightly to catch his gaze. Thomas' eyes flickered down to the gun before meeting your gaze again.

"Just a precaution, Love. There are some dangerous people in this city," Thomas replied, his voice low and serious.

You nodded, understanding his concerns but still feeling uneasy about the situation. Thomas seemed to sense your disquiet and leaned down to kiss you softly.

"I love you," he murmured against your lips, his arms tightening around you briefly before releasing you.

"I love you too, Tommy," you replied softly, your hands still resting on his chest.

Your heart softened towards Thomas in that moment, feeling a deep affection for him. You loved him deeply and you trusted him implicitly. Knowing him as well as you did, it was hard to imagine that his business dealings could be anything but legitimate, even as you had heard rumors about his involvement in illegal activities.

Thomas had always dismissed these rumors as mere speculation, nothing more than idle gossip and slander from his rivals. And yet, as you stood there in the warm kitchen, with the smell of dinner filling the room, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over you since your visit to the Italian grocer.

"I should really get back to cooking, Tommy," you said eventually, stepping out of Thomas' embrace and starting to chop the vegetables again, but Tommy simply removed the knife from your hand.

"The cooking can wait," he said huskily. "I've been thinking about you all day. About how beautiful you looked this morning when you were sleeping," he murmured as he nibbled your earlobe.

"I suppose we could eat a little later than usual," you replied, the tension from earlier melting away as Thomas' lips moved to your neck.

The room felt warm and intimate as the two of you stood there, wrapped up in each other's embrace.

"Fuck, I want you," Thomas whispered hoarsely as his hands traveled down your body, cupping your ass roughly.

You let out a soft cry as he lifted you up onto the kitchen counter, spreading your legs apart with a confident movement that sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Tommy, what if a maid walks in?" you giggled nervously, your voice breathless as Thomas' fingers deftly slipped beneath your dress and apron.

"Then let them watch ," Thomas growled, his voice thick with desire.

He tugged your panties down, exposing your wet and eager pussy to his hungry gaze.

"You are unbelievable, Thomas!" you chuckled softly just before his fingertips traced the delicate folds of your sex, your body trembling beneath his touch.

Thomas wasted no time, plunging two fingers deep into your core.

"Oh god, Tommy," you cried out, gripping the edge of the countertop as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you.

"God, you're so fucking wet. So ready for me," Tommy groaned as his thumb teased your clit, and you writhed on the counter, grinding against his hand. You felt shameless and exposed, but also incredibly alive.

As Thomas unzipped his trousers, you watched through hooded eyes, your breath hitching as his hard cock sprang free.

He stroked it a couple of times, smearing pre-cum over the tip before using it to coat your slit.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him closer.

Thomas chuckled for a second. "Eager, aren't we?" he asked as he positioned himself at your entrance.

You bit your lip as you felt him push inside your tight warmth, stretching you mercilessly. You moaned at the sensation of him filling you up, the feeling of fullness almost overwhelming.

"Fuck, you're tight, Love," Thomas grunted, his fingers digging into your hips as he pistoned back and forth.

"Tommy, oh god please," you whimpered, unable to form complete sentences as the pleasure built inside of you.

"I love feeling you inside me ," you confessed, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them.

"I've never felt anything like this before," you added, your voice barely above a whisper and, immediately, Thomas' eyes met yours for a brief moment, his gaze intense as he continued to fuck you.

"Neither have I, Love," Tommy told you and you cried out, biting your lip to try and contain the noise as the pleasure became almost unbearable.

You felt yourself climbing higher and higher, the tension building stronger and stronger until the waves of static pleasure crashed inside of you and, suddenly, you felt yourself falling, falling, falling and, as you kept screaming, the waves of pleasure crashed over and over again, never ending.

"Fuck, yes. That's it, Love," Thomas groaned, holding back his own release until you came down from your high. He then pulled out , springing free, and grabbed his cock, giving it a few quick thrusts as he sprayed hot streams of cum across your naked thighs.

Thomas leaned forward, moving your hair off your sweaty forehead, pressing a gentle kiss there before stepping back, still catching his breath.

Reaching for his handkerchief , he started to wipe the remnants of their earthly pleasures of desperation and passion from between your thighs and from his limp cock before zipping up his trousers again.

“Are you alright, Love?” he addressed you gentler than ever before and you simply nodded silently, before reaching for a glass of water and taking a deep sip, feeling a little thirsty after your vigorous desperation for passion and how ‘earthshattering’ your release became.

Thomas poured himself another glass of whiskey and watched you closely as you collected yourself.

"Now that was quite unexpected," you admitted, taking a deep breath before pushing yourself off the counter and swinging your legs down to the ground.

"Was it?" he chuckled before lightening himself a cigarette and offering one to you, which you accepted graciously.

"You know, something really strange happened today when Isiah took me to the Italian Grocer by the Canal on East Street," you started, changing the topic, as you took a deep drag from your cigarette. Thomas arched an eyebrow, encouraging you to go on.

"While I was picking up some fresh produce for dinner, one of the Italians in store told me that they weren't serving 'Blinders' at their shop and, when I queried him about what he meant by that, he told me that he didn't want any trouble. I think he saw Isiah's gun, but I can't be sure. It all was very confusing," you recounted the incident, trying to piece together what happened.

At that moment, Thomas' body language changed entirely. He leaned his head to the side, squinting his left eye and pressing his lips firmly together, as he listening to your confession.

"Did the man say anything else?" Thomas' voice was low and measured as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

"No," you shook your head. "Well, not that I could understand," you told him, causing your husband to clear his throat.

"And what did the Italian look like?" Thomas questioned you with a furrowed brow, as he tried to gauge the seriousness of the situation based on the incomplete information you offered.

"Tall, skinny. He was about thirty years old, with dark hair and dark eyes," you said, almost absentmindedly, as you went on to describe more about the Italian's appearance. Then, suddenly, it struck you just how off-putting the interaction had become now, and some anxiety washed over you again. "Why are you asking?" you questioned Thomas, wondering about the reasoning behind the sudden interest in the man you met earlier today.

Thomas, sensing your apprehension, gave you a reassuring smile as he stubbed out his cigarette, extinguishing the glowing embers.

"No reason. Just mere curiosity, Love," Tommy told you before giving you a kiss on the cheek. "Now, why don't you finish cooking while attend some more business in town, eh?" he told you, his voice gentle and loving, but you noticed a hint of something else in his eyes, something that you couldn't quite identify.

"Alright Tommy," you agreed nonetheless and Thomas kissed you deeply one last time, before grabbing his hat and coat and disappearing off to town.

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queenshelby · 24 hours

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Sweet Possession (Part 3)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

Later that day, just as you were waiting for your husband to return home, you couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety in your stomach as you thought back to your strange encounter at the Italian grocer earlier that day.

The way the man's eyes had flickered down to the gun hidden beneath Isiah's jacket, before quickly averting his gaze. The memory sent a shiver down your spine and you couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

Despite that, you quickly put those thoughts aside as you heard Tommy’s footsteps carrying through the door of Arrow House.

You glanced at the clock hanging in the hallway, realizing that it was already shortly after eight o’clock in the evening.

Thomas walked into the reading room where you were sitting, nursing a glass of wine, the dinner you prepared waiting in the oven to stay warm. He was, still wearing his coat and looked somewhat tired.

"I am sorry I am late , Love," he greeted you, dropping a quick kiss on your forehead.

"Is everything alright?" you asked your husband, concern etched in your voice as you gazed into his tired eyes. You noticed that there were faint lines around his eyes that you hadn't seen before.

"Yes , everything's fine," Thomas assured you, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, trying not to let your suspicions get the better of you.

"Good. I'll go and serve dinner then," you said, standing up from the sofa and making your way into the kitchen but, just as you stood up, you noticed some red blood stains on the collar of his shirt which he was clearly trying to hide by leaving on his coat.

Nonetheless, you decided not to address it, giving Thomas a reassuring smile before you walked off.

"I should have a shower first, Love. It has been a long day," Thomas told you truthfully in passing, his voice still low but there was a lilt to it, like he was keeping something from you.

"That's fine. Just come down when you are ready," you called after him from the hallway and he gave you a quick nod and a smile before disappearing upstairs.

Minutes later...

The dinner that you had prepared was delicious. The meat had cooked to tender perfection and the rich, earthy flavor of the mushrooms you had picked from the forest earlier that week complemented the dish beautifully. The aroma alone was enough to make your mouth water.

Carefully, you removed the dish from the oven and set it on the table in the nearby dining room, lighting the candles that you had arranged in its center. You had always loved setting a nice table, believing that food always tasted better when it was presented beautifully.

You had spent many hours as a young girl watching your mother, a talented cook, prepare meals for your family. Now, you were proud to use the skills she had taught you.

You had just finished setting the table when Thomas walked into the dining room, his dark hair still damp from his shower. He was wearing a clean white shirt and dark trousers, looking both comfortable and sophisticated. His face was free of stubble and his eyes sparkled with warmth as he looked at you.

"Something smells good," he commented, walking over to where you stood by the table and giving you a kiss.

You blushed, always feeling a little shy when Thomas praised you.

"Thank you," you responded, making a small curtsy before taking your seat at the table. Thomas chuckled, sitting down across from you and reaching for the glass of whiskey you had already placed in front of him, knowing how much he enjoyed a drink as he dug into the food.

"I enjoy cooking. In fact, I was thinking about doing some work at the local orphanage. The children there could really do with some decent meals , and it would give me a chance to feel useful," you told Tommy as you served yourself up some food as well, never enjoying the maids doing it for you.

Thomas raised an eyebrow at this, studying you closely. "You want to work at the orphanage?"

You nodded, taking a sip of your wine. "Yes. I know how much you support local charities and causes. You're always helping people in need, and I want to do my part too."

Thomas smiled at this, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "That's very thoughtful of you, Love. I'm sure the children will appreciate it," Thomas replied, gazing at you with a softness that made your heart flutter. "But remember, Love, the world can be a dangerous place for a young woman and you, of all people, should know that, eh."

"It's an orphanage, Tommy. It's not the Garrison," you chuckled, recalling the night he had saved you from a less than favorable situation. Thomas cocked an eyebrow, his face growing serious.

"I know that, Love. But even so," he began to say, before trailing off, collecting his thoughts. "I will send Isiah with you," he then said, shaking his head and you stared at Thomas for a moment, surprised at the intensity of his words. It was clear that he was deeply concerned for your safety, and you couldn't help but feel touched by his protective nature.

"You are always so worried about me ," you told him with a soft smile, reaching across the table to take his hand in yours. He met your gaze with a steady one of his own and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"It's my job to worry about you, Love," Thomas replied, his voice low and earnest. "You're my wife, and I want to keep you safe."

The two of you finished the rest of the meal in relative silence, the only sounds being the soft clinking of silverware against china and the occasional sip of whiskey or wine.

Thomas watched you closely, his gaze warm and affectionate. He had always been a protective man, although sometimes his methods could be a little unconventional. But you knew that in his heart, he always had your best interests at heart.

As you finished your meal and pushed your plate away, Thomas leaned back in his chair and gave you a small smile. "I have something I want to show you," he said, his voice low and mysterious.

You raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued. "What is it?" you asked and Thomas smiled, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"It's a surprise, Love," he said, standing up from his chair and offering you his hand. "Come on, I'll show you."

You took his hand and let him lead you out of the dining room and down the hallway to his study. The room was dimly lit, with only a single lamp casting a soft glow over the large wooden desk that dominated the space. Thomas closed the door behind you and crossed over to the desk, reaching for something behind it.

It was then that you noticed a large painting leaning against the wall, wrapped in thick brown paper.

"Are you going to tell me what it is?" You asked, unable to hide the excitement in your voice. Thomas chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Patience, Love," he murmured, carefully unwrapping the painting to reveal an exquisite work of art. It was a portrait of you , a stunningly accurate depiction of your likeness, down to the last detail. Your eyes were wide with surprise as you took in the image of yourself, feeling a little self-conscious under Thomas' intense gaze.

"It's beautiful," you breathed, reaching out to touch the canvas. The brushstrokes were delicate and precise, capturing the softness of your skin and the warmth of your smile. You had never seen anything quite like it before.

"I had it commissioned as a wedding present," Thomas explained, his eyes never leaving your face.

"I wanted something to celebrate the woman you are, and the woman you're becoming."

His words sent a rush of warmth through you, filling your heart with a sense of love and pride. You had never felt so cherished, so adored. It was an incredible feeling, one that left you breathless and overwhelmed.

You stood there, hand still resting on the painting, heart pounding in your chest as you looked into Thomas' eyes. You could see the raw desire burning in his gaze, the hunger that told you he wanted you as badly as you wanted him.

"This is the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me," you whispered, your breath hitching as Thomas stepped closer to you.

His hand reached out, gently grasping a tendril of your hair, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

"And you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," Thomas growled, his breath hot against your skin.

Your heart raced as he pulled you towards him, his lips crashing down onto yours in a passionate kiss that left you breathless.

"Tommy ," you gasped, your voice barely audible as his hands roamed over your body, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist before cupping your breasts over your dress.

"Yes, Love?" Thomas murmured against your lips, his thumb teasing your nipples through the fabric until they hardened beneath his touch.

You moaned softly, arching your back into his touch as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a dance that was both familiar and thrilling.

Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer as the hunger inside of you grew stronger.

"I want you, Tommy," you whispered hoarsely, your breath hot against his ear.

Thomas responded with a growl, his hands tugging at your dress until it slid down to your feet, leaving you standing there in nothing but your lacy underwear.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful," Thomas groaned, taking a step back to drink in the sight of you. "And you are mine," he added possessively, reaching out to trace the curve of your hip with his fingertips.

You shivered at his touch, feeling a pulse of desire low in your belly. You had never felt so desired, so wanted before. It was intoxicating.

"Yes, I'm yours," you whispered, reaching out to touch him in turn. Your hands found their way to his belt, the metal buckle cool against your skin as you undid it and slid it free from its loops.

Thomas groaned as you began to undo the buttons of his trousers, revealing the hard length of his cock beneath.

"Fuck, Love," Thomas gasped, his voice barely above a whisper as you wrapped your hand around him, feeling the velvety softness of his skin beneath your fingertips.

You pulled him forward, pressing your lips to his collarbone and trailing kisses down his chest as you unbuttoned his shirt and sank to your knees before him all at the same time.

The scent of him was musky and intoxicating, and you couldn't resist the urge to take him into your mouth.

"I have never done this before," you confessed, looking up at him with shy, yet eager eyes.

Thomas' expression softened at the admission, his hand reaching out to gently caress your cheek. "I know , Love," he murmured. "I'll guide you." And with those words, you opened your mouth eagerly, waiting for him to make the first move.

Your tongue darted out, teasing his tip and tasting his pre-cum as it leaked out. Thomas moaned deeply, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you to take him deeper, urging you to taste more of him.

You complied eagerly, exploring every inch of him with your mouth as Thomas thrust gently into your throat. Your hands wandered up to his toned ass, pulling him closer as you sucked and licked with abandon.

Thomas' breath hitched as you drew back, gasping for air before sliding back down on him once more.

"Good girl ," Thomas grunted, guiding your head back down onto him.

You could feel the trembling in his legs as you worked him with your mouth, the intensity of his pleasure building to a peak.

"I'm going to cum, Love," Thomas warned, his voice low and strained. "Do you think you can swallow it?" Thomas asked, his voice tight with anticipation. You looked up at him, eyes wide, and nodded eagerly.

"Good girl," he praised you before grabbing a fistful of your hair and pumping his hips faster.

You worked your mouth up and down his shaft, feeling the throbbing of his cock intensify until finally, Thomas thrust deep into your throat and held it there as he came hard. You tried to swallow as much of him as you could, feeling the hot streams of cum coat your tongue before spilling out of the corners of your mouth.

You felt a sense of pride wash over you as you took it all in, Thomas's hips still thrusting as he emptied himself into your willing mouth.

Finally, with one last gasp, Thomas pulled out, his cock sliding free from your mouth with a wet, sucking sound. You looked up at him with a sense of accomplishment and longing, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of him.

Thomas reached down and gently brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek for a moment.

His eyes were soft, filled with love and admiration. You blushed under his gaze, feeling both proud and self-conscious at the same time.

"God, you're beautiful," Thomas murmured, his voice raw with emotion. "And so fucking sexy."

Your blush deepened at the compliment, but you didn't look away. Instead, you reached up and took his hand in yours, bringing it to your lips for a gentle kiss. Thomas smiled at the gesture, his thumb tracing idle patterns on your skin as he looked down at you with a hunger that made your heart race.

"Come here," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "I want to feel you."

You stood up, stepping closer to Thomas as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the evidence of your earlier efforts still slick against your thighs. The combined scent of him and of yourself left you heady, intoxicated by the smell of raw, unbridled sexuality.

His mouth found yours again, his lips claiming yours in a bruising kiss that left you breathless and trembling in his arms.

"I always wanted you to do things to me, on this big desk of yours," you giggled nervously , your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Thomas's grin deepened, his hands roaming your body with a possessiveness that made you shiver.

"Then what are you waiting for, Love?" He murmured, his voice low and seductive.

You didn't need any more encouragement than that. Within seconds, you had pulled your underwear down your legs and climbed up onto the desk, positioning yourself so that your ass was right at the edge.

"So fucking perfect ," Thomas growled, his eyes burning with desire as he took in the sight of you spread out before him, ready and willing.

You felt a rush of heat flood your body, the thought of being so exposed heightening your arousal to new heights.

Thomas reached out, his hands tracing the curve of your waist before moving up to cup your breasts. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, sending pulses of pleasure straight to your core.

You moaned softly, arching your back and pressing yourself into his touch.

Thomas' mouth found yours again, his lips silencing your cries as his fingers continued to tease your nipples.

"You like that, Love?" Thomas asked, his voice low and sultry.

"Yes," you gasped, your breath hitching as he rolled your nipples between his fingers. "Please, Thomas."

Thomas grinned at the plea, his fingers leaving your breasts to trace a path down your stomach and towards the apex of your thighs.

"God, you're so fucking wet for me," Thomas groaned against your mouth, his fingers brushing through your folds before delving deep within you.

You gasped, your back arching off the desk as Thomas began to thrust his fingers in and out of you. Each stroke hit a spot deep within you, driving you wild with pleasure.

"Please Love, let me cum inside you ," Thomas groaned, his breath hot against your ear.

"No , I- I can't," you gasped, feeling the familiar fluttering deep within your belly.

"Please ," Thomas begged as, finally, he aligned himself with your wetness and thrust into you with one swift push, but you knew that if you let Thomas cum inside of you, there was a chance you could end up pregnant. And with your life the way it was, the last thing you needed right now was a child.

You shook your head, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as your husband bottomed out inside of you.

God, he felt amazing. But you knew that this was as far as you could go.\

"I am sorry," you whispered, your breath hitching as Thomas began to thrust his hips against yours, driving himself in deep and hard. "I-I can't. I'm sorry."

But Thomas seemed to understand.

"It's alright, Love," he murmured, brushing a stray curl from your face with a tender hand. "I'll just make a mess instead," he chuckled in between groans as he continued to thrust in and out of you.

Your nails dug into the desk, your breath coming in ragged gasps as Thomas's hips snapped against yours, his cock hitting that delicious spot inside of you.

"Fuck, yes," you gasped, your pelvis bucking to meet his thrusts. "Harder."

Thomas growled at the demand and obliged, his cock pounding into you with bruising force. You cried out, throwing your head back and bracing yourself against the onslaught of pleasure.

Thomas's thrusts became erratic, his breaths coming in short panting gasps.

"Fuck, I'm close Love," he groaned, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips.

You nodded frantically, feeling your own pleasure coiling deep within you. "Yes, yes," you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation as your own orgasm built within you.

Your nails dug into the surface of the desk even harder now as Thomas continued to drive into you with an almost brutal force. Each thrust sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through your body, your breasts bouncing in time with each stroke.

"Yes, Tommy! Oh god , I'm gonna cum!" You screamed as your orgasm tore through your body like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him.

Thomas's thrusts became erratic as he too, found his release, his hot seed filling the air around you as he pulled out and used his hand to finish the job.

You collapsed back onto the desk, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Thomas leaned over you, his arms braced on either side of your head as he caught his own breath.

"Fuck, Love," he groaned before, suddenly, you were being interrupted by one of the maids.

The sound of a knock on the door broke through your haze of pleasure, and Thomas quickly pulled away from you with an annoyed expression on his face. You each gathered your clothes and Thomas barked, not bothering to conceal his irritation at being interrupted in the middle of such an intimate moment.

The maid, a young girl with mousy brown hair and a pinched expression on her face, looked at the ground as she spoke, knowing exactly what you had been doing,

"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but there's a matter that needs your immediate attention."

Thomas sighed heavily and rubbed his temples with his fingers. he asked, his voice clipped and impatient.

"It's the new shipment of whiskey, sir," the maid replied nervously. "The delivery driver says it was damaged during transport, and he refuses to hand it over until you inspect it yourself."

The maid's statement caught Tommy by surprise. "Y/N, go upstairs!" he ordered you in a way he had not spoken to you before.

"Excuse me?" you asked, annoyed with the way Thomas had spoken to you. You were still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm and, frankly, the last thing you wanted was him to snap at you like this. It was unlike him.

Thomas let out a long-suffering sigh. "I am sorry Y/N. I shouldn't have spoken to you like this, but I need you to go upstairs and stay there. Please," he added as an afterthought, his voice softening.

"Fine ," you muttered, annoyance tingeing your voice as you slid off the desk and started to pull your panties back on, pulling them up beneath your dress.

You couldn't help but feel irritated at the interruption, even more so at the tone Thomas had used with you.

But you shook it off, reminding yourself that Thomas wasn't like that. He cared for you deeply, and you cared for him just as much. Maybe he was just having a stressful day.

When you arrived in the bedroom you shared with Tommy now however, you couldn't help but wonder what was really going on. A whiskey delivery at 10 o'clock seemed absurd and, with that in mind, you pulled aside the curtains and peaked out of the window .

Tommy was already standing outside, talking to a somewhat scary looking truck driver. But something was off. Tommy looked tense, his shoulders rigid and his expression stern.

The driver seemed to be making wild gestures, his hands waving around erratically as he spoke. And then, you saw it when the stranger opened one of the boxes on the back of his truck.

Inside there was no whiskey however, but instead, you saw something black, something that looked like rifles. A lot of rifles. Your mind raced as you tried to make sense of what you were seeing. Was this some kind of arms deal? And if so, why would Thomas be involved in something like that?

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