"His Darling Assassin"
David got off the elevator and stumbled down the corridor to his room unbelievably tired. Even though he didn’t do anything physically strenuous, he was still just tired. The night was too long.
Being the founder, owner, and president of a federation was a lot harder than he had originally thought. He had gained control of HCE and ran that pretty good but, that was a different time. Now, these arrogant pricks who think they’re hot shit just because they were the big men in their last feds and held all the titles for ‘x’ amount of weeks thought that you gave a good fuck and were so impressed with them about that and expected you to favor them by laying title matches down at their feet. To give them shit they didn’t deserve.
Bitch, bitch, bitch.
Blah, blah, blah.
Bullshit.
The thought of people like that made his stomach churn and he had to swallow down the bile that was rising in his throat and fight his temper to prevent himself from viciously beating the shit out of them so he instead laughed without mirth into their faces because that’s all he could do.
Fuck you.
He knows he’s an asshole but he doesn’t care.
He hated cocky people with an unwholesome passion even though, he was one himself, but he would like to think of himself as having justifiable confidence.
He found his room, opened the door, greeted by darkness, and slams the door shut. He takes his coat and suit jacket off, throws them on a couch and unbuttoned his cuffs, rolls up his sleeves and rubs his face.
He wants to collapse right where he stands.
No, a drink first. Then a collapse.
What he would really like is a woman, preferably Beatriz, (thinking of her sighing moans, soft skin, and full breasts makes fleeting warm tingles in a familiar place), but it was a no-go after that cock-blocking bull-dyke had to show her ugly mug.
Magdalene isn’t really “ugly”, David will acknowledge that much, she’s rather nice to look at, but she’s just so fucking clingy to Beatriz and it’s annoying. What, does she think she could convert Beatriz into a bull-dyke?
Fat lotta chance of that happening, although…it would be very, very interesting to walk in on that…
He finds himself grinning as that thought rolls around in his head but Beatriz is still his and that Cajun cunt can fantasize whatever she might be fantasizing about.
It wasn’t his intention to find Beatriz and feel up her, but he just couldn’t help it. She did things to him without doing anything.
The last time he saw her, he was an incoherent bloody mess that could barely stagger, let alone stand. She tried to help him but he couldn’t take the emotion in her face, an emotion she had never shown him before.
It was like a mix of concern and distraught, he vaguely remembered those sparkling green gems brimming with tears, but at the time he saw it as one of disappointment and disgust at his failure and just couldn’t bear the thought of her, the only woman he could see as a woman and not some fuck toy or ungrateful, nagging bitch, being repulsed and embarrassed by him and he just torn himself from her loving arms and just ran away in shame.
He chided himself for it and felt he needed to make an amends, and went over to make an attempt to apologize but he saw her, still plainly beautiful and he just had to be hold her again, touch her.
He went giddy and he went into the arena with a song in his heart and a good mood, his mind entertained with the thought that she would come see him but as the night took its toll he kind of forgot and turned back into an asshole. An encounter with some blonde tart trying to flaunt and fawn around him, in some clumsy attempt to “seduce” him only to make herself look like a fool, made him think of her again and how much he wished she was here instead of this slut.
He couldn’t wait to get to the front desk to see if he had messages or something from her, only to be disappointed when there were none.
Now, he just needed a drink.
He walked into the bedroom, flicked on the light, and made his way over to the bar. He poured himself a drink and downed it in one swallow.
Now for sleep.
He turned around and was pleasantly surprised by the sight he was greeted by.
Beatriz sat on the bed with her back against the headboard and pillows, wearing a short vintage pink dress that fit her like a second skin with many petticoats under it, knee high nylons, and a wickedly deranged smile.
He’s happy again.
“Doll! Ya made it! What, ya snuck out while Mag Fag wasn’t lookin’?”
Mag Fag? Yeah it was juvenile of him, but whatever.
“Oh, Magdalene knows where I am, David.”
He just looks at her, grinning, rapt by the sight of her.
“Ya look great, babe.”
“Fuck you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
He heard her but the suddenness of her vulgarity catches him off guard completely.
“Fuck you.” she says this coldly, still with that smile.
“Ok…would you like a drink?”
Sluggish nod.
“Fine.”
He turns his back to make her one and hears a metallic click and almost immediately feels a slash burn across his back and then a cold stinging twinge.
He turns back around quickly to find Beatriz standing behind him with a bloodied switchblade. She’s not smiling anymore.
“Babe, what tha fuck…”
She tries to attack him again, but he grabs her wrist and she still tries to stab him. They struggle and wrestle each other until they find themselves on the bed with him on top, pinning her wrists and her legs with his.
She thrashes and curses and growls and screams. He’s more turned on than afraid. She looks like some feral, wanton, psycho woman with her face twisted in rage and that shiny black hair all around her face. It’s one of her sides that he missed.
Passionate, spontaneous, wicked.
He wants her.
She stills when she realizes she’s the only one struggling and that he’s on top of her. He’s looking at her bizarrely, just grinning down on her and she sobers up instantly.
“What?” she looks at him with anxious wide eyes.
“I missed you, babe.”
It takes her a moment to realize why he’s grinning at her like that and then she feels it against her.
“No! NO!” she thrashes again as he holds both of her wrists in one large hand and places his free hand on her thigh and slides up her dress.
“Get off!”
Her protests mute when he rubs her through her already damp panties.
“Be nice, babe.”
He looks at her; he likes the faces he makes her make. She’s biting her lip with the eyes closed.
He plays with her until she breaks her stubborn resistance and moves into his hand. She whimpers when he stops.
He pushes the skirt up on her hips and takes the knife out of her loosened hand and cuts the material of her panties at the side and rips them away, throws the knife behind him somewhere. She gasps and he grins again.
He fondles her breasts through her dress and she presses and rubs against him with need. He chuckles good-naturedly.
You probably think I’m being sadistic but believe me, babe, this is me at my most masochistic.
He would like to just fuck her, but he loves rediscovering her body and making her squirm and moan.
“David…”
“Yeah?”
“Please…”
“Please what?” he can’t help grinning.
His thumb brushes against a perk nipple, she bucks against him.
“Please!”
Mustn’t keep the lady waiting…
He takes his sweet, slow time unbuckling his belt, unzipping, and pulling down his pants and shorts. She wraps a leg around his waist to pull him closer and he has to laugh.
“Patience, patience.”
They start out slow, maddening slow but Beatriz encourages him to go faster, faster, and faster and they don’t stop until she whimpers his name repetitively and he supports his weight on an elbow to keep from collapsing on top of her. He lays his head on her chest and enjoys her quickened heartbeat and heavy breathing.
He missed this so much.
They lay there contently for minutes and then he kisses her parted lips and she reciprocates and nibbles at his bottom lip.
He releases her wrists to find bruises in the shapes of his fingers embedded into them. He scolds himself for that.
“You ok?”
“I’m fine.”
They speak in hushed tones.
“I love you, y’know.”
“I know.” she runs her fingers through his hair, messing it up, and smiles at him.
He takes one hand out of his hair and kisses a bruise on the inside of her wrist.
