Game Of Bliss

(31)

"Woah- Flo," John says, taking a crate of whiskey from her arms, noticing she was about to drop it, "you okay?"

"Yeah, my shoulder's just playing up," Florence replies, rubbing beneath her shoulder blade where Kimber had shot her almost a year ago, it still ached sometimes.

"Why are you carrying this?" John asks, placing it on the counter.

"Arthur asked me to bring it up from the cellar," Florence replies, and John gives her an incredulous look, "if you knew your shoulder was hurting, why would you say yes?"

"I thought I could handle it," Florence says, pausing slightly, "...evidently, I could not."

"Evidently," John scoffs, picking the crate back up, carrying it into the storage room.

"What are you doing here?" Florence asks.

"Fuck knows," John shrugs, "Tommy said to meet him here."

"Flo, did you bring the crate up?" Arthur asks, walking out of the back room, "I would've done it myself but I was checking the books."

"They'll probably need double checking," John remarks.

"Oh, piss off," Arthur responds, "my counting has got better. Where's Tommy then?"

"Tommy asked you to meet him here as well?" Florence asks, and Arthur nods.

"It seems like I may be interrupting something then, I'll see you two later," Florence says.

"I'm sure Tommy won't mind you staying," John replies, and Florence shrugs, "if I was meant to be apart of whatever this is, he would've asked me to be here. I'll leave you to it."

"No," John states, "you're our sister, if he can't talk to you about whatever it is, he shouldn't be talking to the rest of us about it. Stay."

"He's not wrong," Tommy inputs, walking through the doors with Malachi, "I just couldn't find you."

"See, you are meant to be here," Arthur says, pulling up a chair for Florence, "now sit."

"Why are we all here?" Malachi asks, "I was trying to have a fucking nap, next thing I know this absolute psychopath is chucking cold water over my head."

Tommy rolls his eyes, "I cleaned it up, didn't I?"

"My hair is a mess now," Malachi retorts, as Florence walks over to him, running a hand through his hair, kissing his cheek.

"Seriously?" Tommy says.

"You poured water over his head whilst he was sleeping," Florence responds, "the least I could do is cheer him up a bit."

"You two like each other way too much, it's sickening," Arthur grumbles.

"Alright, can we skip to the path where we find out why we're here?" John asks, "I've got something I'd much rather be doing."

"Oh yeah? What?" Arthur questions, and John smirks before answering, "my wife."

"So we're sickening but that's okay?" Florence states, "double standards."

"Can we get back on topic?" Tommy asks, lighting a cigarette, as they all turn to look at him.

Tommy sighs, taking a seat, indicating everyone else should too.

"Does anybody know what's going on with Polly?" Tommy inquires, "she just doesn't seem all there in the head at the moment, and we need her to be there in the head. Beng, has she spoken to you?"

"She spoke to me about something, but I don't think it's that, nor do I think it'd be something you'd want to fix," Florence shrugs.

"What was it?" John asks.

"You really want to know?" Florence replies, and all of them nod, Arthur responding, "if it may be a factor, we want to know."

"Okay, just remember you asked, and I warned you," Florence says, "she mentioned something about... mmm how do I say this?"

"Just say it," Tommy sighs.

"She's going through a dry spell," Florence states, and they all look at her confused.

"You're really going to make me spell it out for you? Okay," Florence says, "she hasn't fucked someone and is sexually frustrated. You willing to find someone to help her? Didn't think so."

They all look mortified. Tommy partially choking as he took a drag from his cigarette.

"I also said it'a probably not that, she was frustrated not distracted by it, but you guys are nosey," Florence shrugs.

"Wait," Malachi says, "it might be connected."

"What are you talking about?" Arthur asks.

"I went drinking with Pol a couple months ago, she was talking about her children, saying she missed them, and was worried about them," Malachi replies.

"She was talking about Michael and Anna?" John says, "that's not common behaviour. That could be it. How old would they be?"

"17 and 15?" Florence replies.

"Almost 18, that could be it," Tommy hums, "when he's 18 she can contact him without breaking any laws."

"When have we ever cared about breaking laws?" Arthur remarks.

"Polly cares... sometimes," Malachi replies, "and it's not the local police that'd get involved, it'd be a branch of the government of which we have no control."

"Nothing bad could come of trying to find them," John shrugs.

"I'll look into it," Tommy nods.

-

"I love your hair like this," Florence says, straddling Malachi's waist, looking down at him.

"Wouldn't have guessed," Malachi smiles, "you haven't stopped touching it."

He'd had a bath when they'd gotten back from the pub. His hair was dry now but he hadn't styled it, so there was just an abundance of messy curls.

"You look handsome," Florence replies, and he shrugs, "don't I always?"

"You absolutely do," Florence confirms, placing a chaste kiss to his lips, before trailing a few kisses down his neck, "the handsomest man there ever was."

She hears him chuckle, his hands slowly caressing her waist, before tracing patterns up her back, brushing a few strands of her hair that had fallen astray to the side.

"You like playing with my hair?" Mal asks.

"I do," Florence says.

"How about I give you a better reason to touch it," Mal whispers in her ear, gently flipping them over, placing a kiss to her lips, his hands softly kneading her hips.

He trails his lips down her neck, just as she had done to him, her hands coming to his hair, as he continues to kiss his way down her torso, until he was looking up at her smirking from between her legs.

"Is this a better reason?" He asks, his hands massaging the outside of her upper thighs.

"A much better reason," Florence smiles, breathing heavily as he uses his teeth to move the crotch of her lingerie to the side, dropping a few kisses to her inner thigh. He feels Florence's grip on his hair tighten as he delves in with his tongue, flicking it against her clit.

"Oh fuck," Florence moans, as Mal slowly begins to start fingering her as his mouth continues to work on her clit.

She'd never get used to the way he made her feel. It was indescribable and incomparable. There were no words to describe just how much pleasure Malachi was able to give her. He noticed what she reacted well to, what she liked, what she didn't, and he utilised that. Not that she minded. Being observant during sex is a rare trait, and it makes it so much better for all participants.

Malachi loved how Florence reacted to him. Seeing her like this, all for him, it was a beautiful sight. A beautiful feeling. Her hands gripping onto his hair, her legs tightening around his head as she got closer to having an orgasm. The whimpers she let out when he was kissing the upper parts of her thighs. The way her hair would spread across their pillows as she threw her head back. Every single part of this was beautiful.