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Blind Tiger

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“It’s good to see you, Gyp.”

“Gyp?” He takes his hat off and sets it on the counter. “Since when did you start calling me that?”

He turns on his heel and walks toward the corner of the bar, circling his way back towards you. His fingers trace their way across the uneven wood, stopping just short of the glass in your hand.

“Since you brought me good business.” You look up at him, his auburn eyes glimmering in the dim electric light.

“Good business?” He closes the space between you, gripping your hand around the glass. “Good business for you,” he brushes a strand of hair off your shoulder. “Is good business for me.”

You glance down at his hand, holding your breath as his thumb massages your collar bone. Soft, smooth fingertips send a wave of warmth down your body as they make their way down your clavicle. You exhale and wonder, for a second, what his fingertips might feel like in other places.

“And it’s time to collect.” He slides his fingers in between your breasts and pulls out a wad of cash. “There it is.” He lifts your chin with the stack of dollar bills, biting his lip as he looks you up and down.

“Half of it’s yours.” You whisper, your lips brushing against his.

“Half?” He smiles, the gap in his teeth more prominent than ever. “I should take all of it.”

“That wasn’t what we agreed upon.” You swallow hard, your throat scraping against the rough edges of the currency he holds so tightly against your neck.

“Every. Last. Bit.” He walks you back against the sink, his hips trapping you against the basin.

“The deal was that you get half of what I make.” You stand your ground, feeling the heat radiating off his body.

“The deal was that I take what I want.” His voice drops down an octave, gravelly and dark inside his chest. His other hand snakes it’s way up your thigh, checking the circumference of your garter for any loose cash. “And you get my protection.”

“And what is it that you want, Mr. Rosetti?”

“I want you to keep calling me Gyp.” He whispers into your ear, fingering the black lace of your garter. “You still sleep in that back room?”

You lock the door behind you as Gyp takes his time removing his suit jacket. He folds it in half and sets it carefully over the wooden chair in front of your desk.

“Are these your books, Tiger Lilly?” He leans over your paperwork, running his fingers over the lines of import and export.

He always had some kind of offensive nickname for you. Even though in the back of his mind he thought they were terms of endearment, Pocahontas, Tiger Lilly, and Sacajawea often graced his lips more than your real name.

“Yeah,” You sigh and walk towards him, touching his lower back. “You can check them if you’d like.” You slide your hand on top of his, feathering your fingertips over his knuckles.

“I’ll do that.” He looks over at you, his full lips parted as the distance between you grows smaller.

“But there are a couple of other things I want to go over first.” He turns to face you, his hand sliding up your bare arm.

“Oh yeah? And what are those?” You place your hands on his chest, fingering the top button of his vest as you stare into his hungry eyes. The scent of his aftershave swims around you and into your nostrils as his breathing gets faster.

He grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re gonna do as I say.” He raises his eyebrows, drawing you in closer to him. “You’re gonna take your clothes off and sit on the bed while you watch me undress.”

“Okay.” You nod, feeling a wetness start to grow between your legs. “Okay.” You whisper again as your lips curl into a smile. The mere thought of relinquishing control sends an exhilarating jolt up your spine.

He bites his lower lip and closes his eyes, taking in a long slow breath before letting go of your face. His Adam’s Apple rises and falls as he swallows hard, his gulp audible against the buzz of the lights. His hands fall to the leather holster around his shoulders, sliding it off of his arms with a quick glance at you.

“Take off that dress.” He turns toward your desk again, setting his holster and weapon carefully on the stool in front of his jacket.

You do as you’re told, and slide out of your dress, leaving a trail of green satin on the floor as you make your way over to the bed. You remove your bra next, and then your panties, letting that black garter stay as a witness to whatever he has planned for you.

You climb onto the bed and look over at Gyp as he sets his vest down. He starts to undo his tie, and pulls it out of his shirt collar. “Touch yourself.” He orders without even looking at you.
Oh God. Why was that so hot? Why was HE so hot? Why did it take this long for you to realize you’d both been thinking about each other this way for years?

You take in a deep breath and let your hand separate your legs. Your fingers slide in between your lips, spreading them apart as your moisture slides down your thighs. You’d touched yourself while thinking about Gyp before… sometimes several times in one night after he came to collect, but you were never lucky enough to have him in the same room while you did it.

“I wanna hear it.” He finishes unbuttoning his shirt and practically rips it off of his arms.

Your toes curl at his request. You start to moan as you rub yourself up and down, grabbing ahold of the wrought iron bed frame as your whole hand becomes soaked with your moisture.

“No.” He takes off his undershirt. “I wanna hear it, not you.”

Your raise your eyebrows into your hairline. You’ve never met anyone who knows exactly what they want. Not like this, anyways.

You lift your leg on top of the bed frame, making sure he’ll see you in all of glory when he turns to face you. Sliding two fingers inside, you pull them out quickly before thrusting them back in. The sound of your juices mixing against your skin make him smile as he finally turns around.

“That’s it…” He walks up to the edge of the bed and stares as you continue to work on yourself. He licks his lips and rubs his hand over the dress pants that cage his erection.

“You ready for me, Pocahontas?” His hands move up to his belt, taking their time separating the leather from the silver metal.

You nod as he whips his belt out of his pant loops, his chest rising and falling faster than ever. He holds it high above his head, letting it dangle next to him as he closes his eyes. His lips part as they swell with want, his cock stretching the polyester past its limit.

You bring your hand out from between your legs and stare at him. His arm remains still as he displays his belt; his eyes hooded as they stare at his feet. Did he forget what he was doing? Did he forget where he was? You lean in to bring him out of his trance, only to be met with a hand around your throat.

“Gyp!” You inhale, grabbing his wrist.
He opens his eyes and looks at you, his irises black and wild against his mocha colored skin. He tightens his grip around your throat despite your attempt to break free, and kisses your mouth. His tongue tastes of the whiskey you gave him earlier, his lips salty against your own.

“Are you going to do what I say, Injun Bitch?” He sucks on your lips before bringing his belt down to his side.

Did he just say what you think he just said? Injun Bitch? Was he kidding? You feel his freshly shaven cheek brush against your palm before you realize that you’ve just smacked him across the face.

“Oh yeah.” He smiles and lets go of your throat. Bringing his belt up against your chest, he traces the outline of your breasts with the buckle.

“Take it out on me.” He whispers, bringing the belt down between your legs.

“What?” You shiver as the cold belt collects your moisture and paints a trail up your stomach.

“I want you to hurt me…” He threads the leather between the metal, looping it around his neck. He pulls it tight and hands you the end. “Please.”

Oh my God, he’s serious.

You hold the belt in your hand and look up at him; this half naked man standing in front of you, asking you to… do what… exactly? Your eyes shift from side to side, searching your brain for the answer to what you think he wants. Was his dominating personality just a ruse?

You pull the belt tight and watch his smile widen. Tighter and tighter, and his breath hitches as he undoes his pants.

“Is this what you want, Gyp?” You pull him onto the bed as his clothes leave his feet.

“Yes.” He grumbles.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” You yank on the belt, pulling him forward.

“Yes!” He coughs into the blanket that covers your queen bed.

“Good.” You slowly run your fingers through his chestnut brown hair, tugging on his locks as you bring his face up to yours. “You look good like this.” You whisper into his mouth, kissing him deeply.

His lips are a quivering mess as you massage them with your tongue, biting his lower lip and pulling. His breath is shallow and labored, your occasional tugs on the belt causing him to gasp. You tighten your grip on his hair and make him cry out.

“Tie me to the bed.” He begs, looking up at you with desperate eyes.

“Tie me to the bed, what?” You raise an eyebrow, enjoying this new role.

“Tie me to the bed, please!” Tears well up in his eyes as he stares you down, spit dripping from his lips.

You smile in return, coiling the belt around your knuckles as you stare at your suffering business partner. You smooth his hair out and pull him over to the foot of the bed before tying the belt into a basic knot.

“That should hold you.” You pull his tether so tight that his cock twitches, sending drops of precum onto the mattress.

“You’d better hope so.” He whispers, grabbing your hips and spinning you around.

He grabs the belt tighter, choking himself harder before he grabs himself with his other hand. He shoves you up against the wall and slides inside of you.

“Oh, Gyp!” You moan against the wall. You hadn’t anticipated just how much he would fill you up. His odd request had occupied too much of your brain power for you to focus on his size.

He grumbles and groans as he shoves his hips into your ass, making the springs in your mattress scream in protest. He lets go of the belt and slides his hand around your neck, gently pulling you into him with each thrust.

His constant role reversal was confusing, but also exciting. He had worked you up with so much anticipation that his huge Sicilian cock was hitting you in just the right spot. His fingers move from your neck and into your hair, bending you over as he drills into you incessantly.

You feel yourself start to quake. Your nerves start to fire more quickly now, and for longer periods of time. His grip on your hair grows tighter as your body explodes into a cascade of pleasure in the center of your friction.

“Gyp!” You barely whisper, clenching down around him. “Oh my God!”

“Y/n!” He pulls your head back to look at him as you come together, his hips furious and violent. He smacks your ass as it shakes and sweats; becoming nothing but a wet mess underneath him. He screams a low, guttural moan as he twitches inside of you, the sound vibrating in his bones.

He leans back and unties the belt, pulling out of you before he collapses onto the bed. “You can keep everything you made tonight.”