Angel & Ace

Her Protectors

   Had I forgotten how dirty I was as a young man or was Sutton a special kind of kinky? I remembered being horny all the time, but the things she did to me— and what she was willing to let me do to her— I'd never dreamt up at nineteen or twenty. And she was an exhibitionist in the most basic sense.
   "I could just fuck you anywhere and you'd let me, huh, Angel?" I grunted as I thrusted into her warm pussy from behind. We were on my fire escape— a place where I went to smoke, which is what I was doing when she came out teasing me, wearing my shirt and showcasing her sexy, luscious ass. Now, I had her bent over the frozen rusted metal rails and was ramming into her tight, juicy pussy.
   "Yes, Ace, I would. Harder. . ." God she was insatiable, and I loved that she preferred it rough. I was happier that she could actually bear it, too. I slapped her ass, imprinting my 4th handprint on her flesh as I dug into her deeper, locating her sweet G-spot. She cried out into the night, unbothered by the powerful sound that resonated from within her liberated body. She tightened around my throbbing cock and her hot muscles quivered against me beautifully.
"Tobias!" She howled. I clamped my hand around her mouth for I didn't want my neighbors to call the cops, then I pulled her back to my front, squeezing her tender breast in my hand. She was oozing come in waves and it soaked my legs, her thighs, and then pooled at our feet. I removed my hands and clutched the cold rail, drilling into her for I wasn't going to last much longer in her exquisite pussy. We were both moaning, groaning, senseless beings controlled by superlative divine pleasures.
"Come with me. . . Again." I said into her ear, pulling her hair from their roots and managing to chuckle at myself for expecting so much from her. I mean, the women had already had an orgasm three times and I was asking for another.
She reached back, thrusted her fingers into my hair, and gave me a full view of her ripe, delicious body. I touched and probed like I was at an amusement park and rolled her swollen, sensitive clit between my forefingers. I then turned her head forcefully, claiming her mouth with mine so she couldn't scream as I manipulated her body. She convulsed, bearing the intense orgasm that poured through us both. She pulled at my hair with a new force and I groaned in pain. Then, I felt a much bigger, louder flood pour through her and she wailed into the night. I realized for the first time in my life, I'd obtained a natural squirter.
   "Wow. . ." She whispered, her body going lax over the railing. The bitter winter breeze felt therapeutic against my hot skin and I felt exhausted. And as if it weren't hard enough for me to stay vertical, I also had to carry an exhausted Sutton to my bed.
"Mmm," she moaned, fingering my chest hair softly as I held her bridal style in my arms. "You smell so good." I chuckled at her— she couldn't even keep her eyes open.
"Thank you, Angel." I made way through my living room and headed for my bedroom.
"You are taking me to the bathroom now, right?" I stopped.
"No. Bed. Your eyes won't even stay open." I told her. She then proceeded to flutter them open just enough to see me.
"Bathroom." She demanded adorably, her dark tresses untamed and her golden skin rubescent.
"Fine." I muttered. I walked to the bathroom and she sat on the toilet to relieve herself— as if we were a married couple and this was an everyday occurrence for us. Instead, we'd only met a few days ago.
   Married.
Us.
I could see it easily If she weren't already engaged. Her dark, lazy, azure eyes found mine and her innate allure pulled at my exhausted libido.
"Enjoying the show?" She asked. I nodded my head and headed to the tub where I ran the faucet for a bath. I filled it with bubbles and went to grab the items I'd purchased. I ripped the tags off of her pink towels; her blue satin lingerie gown and panties; and then grabbed a lighter for the candles and her toothbrush. When I reentered the bathroom she was emerged in the water, relaxing. Her beauty halted me in my tracks for a moment and I gazed at her shamelessly.
"Awe! Are those for me?" She asked excitedly. Well as excited as she could manage. I nodded.
"Yeah." She smiled appreciatively and my heart drummed against my ribcage. I assembled the candles around the bathroom and lit them, then turned off the lights. The water was hotter then I'd realized but she didn't seem to mind. She then slid up, giving me more room to sit behind her.
"I'm sore," she hummed softly, leaning back into me once I undressed and got in.
"I'm sorry, Angel, but I like you sore. How's your ass?" She laughed breathily and I wrapped my arms around her.
"Sore." I smiled mischievously.
"Good. I hope every time you sit you remember me and get wet between your legs."
"I always do." She quipped.
"Oh, really?"
"Yup. Every day since we met."
"Good." There was a pregnant pause, and I couldn't ignore the elephant any longer. "When's the date?" I asked as my heart picked up its pace.
"2 months." She replied quietly. I squeezed her tighter as the pressure in my chest returned.
"What are we going to do?" She turned her head and gazed at me. Tears rimmed her waterline and she bit into her lip.
"I'm fighting this. My fathers very aware of my protests and I'm not making this easy on him. He can't force me to do this. I'll put him in jail before he forces me to marry that egotistical, insensitive, megalomaniac." She ranted, skimming past some major talking points.
"Jail? And who is this guy?" She raked her fingers through her hair and turned to face me completely. She began washing my body.
"Umm—, yeah. Jail." She hesitated, clearly her outburst was unintentional. At least that part of it.
"Spit it out, Angel. If I'm going to help, I need a little more insight." She blew out a deep breath and washed my legs.
"The reason I was so hesitant about indulging you with my private life when we first met is because I didn't know if I could trust you. I'd seen you watching me and it sent off a couple of alarms, but you were incredibly hot and you made me insane with lust and I needed. . . Something. But then I realized you weren't some kind of spy or reporter." She explained, giving her narrative of our first encounter.
I was surprised and unsure what to say so I remained silent.
"My father is Alvaro Dàvilio, the biggest shipping manufacturer in the East coast. He also owns tons of businesses and real estate so basically he's got the entire city at his disposal. It's so clichè it's disgusting, but he's a dirty criminal. Actually, we both are." I straightened up and grabbed her hands so she couldn't preoccupy herself with my body anymore.
   "'We'? As in you've participated in illegal activities as well?" I asked for clarification.
   "Yes. Technically. If he goes down, he'd take me with him." She answered, leaving no room for misinterpretation. I'd imagined her being royal; maybe even bred and brought up through politics and possibly having a political father. But I never guessed the Mafia.
   "I'm to be wed to Polo Gambino." She said, causing me to momentarily black out. Everything I knew about Polo Gambino was deplorable; Racketeering, smuggling, prostitution, robbery, trafficking. At 30 he was the most ruthless man around. No one crossed him, and if they did they never lived to tell about it. What father would force his only daughter to marry a monster?
   "Breathe, Ace." Sutton grabbed my hand and brought me back home. This was information overload.
   "I'm processing," I muttered as fantasy images of our future burned away in my mind. I barely registered her as she climbed into my lap, I only snapped out of it when her lips fell upon mine in a sweet, passionate kiss.
   "I'm never leaving you, Ace. I promise."