Kimber's Dilemma - Tommy Shelby x Reader Fan Fic

Chapter 32

I'm still meant to be furious with Tommy.

I remind myself of this as he parts my lips with his tongue, as his heady scent fills me whole. He tastes like whiskey and feels like heaven, and I stiffen against him, pouring all my anger into the kiss.

My hands knot in his hair, tugging softly until his lips part and there's a glint in his eye. He responds by slamming me back against the wall, so hard a handful of books come tumbling down from the bookcases around us.

"Tell me you're not going."

"This is your cousin's office," I gasp quietly.

His eyes only glint in response. He grasps me by the cheeks, forces me to look at him. I feel him stiff and hard through his trousers against my thigh. "Tell me you're not going."

"No," I growl. "Fuck you."

Wrong answer.

"Alright." Before I can protest, there's a flash of silver, and he snaps the handcuffs around my wrists. I tug and pull, leveraging more force now I've only got my own wrists to contend with. For all my efforts, I gain only metal biting into my flesh, and dull bruising across my wrists.

Tommy unknots his tie. He slips the satin free from his collar, then wraps it around my mouth. A makeshift gag. I can taste cigarette smoke as my tongue pushes against the fabric.

He bends me over the desk and asks me, "You understand how to tap out, sweetheart?"

I tap my palm against the wood.

"Good girl," he murmurs appreciatively, as he brings a hand to stroke my clothed slit. "You want me to stop, you just do that and I'll stop. Okay?"

We wait in silence. My palms don't move. A soft chuckle falls from his lips as I confirm what he already knew — I want this. For all my determination to get to the bottom of what happened to the guns, Tommy can tie me up and stroke my cunt and I'll let him.

"Think I might have to keep you here like this," he tells me, as soft moans catch in my throat at the sensation of his touch. "This way, I know you're safe."

I try to respond, but the garbled mess of words find resistance against the fabric of his tie. Tommy laughs softly, humourlessly, once more, and then tugs my underwear down my legs. There's the clink of a belt and I feel soft pressure as he pumps himself at my entrance. My whole centre's alight for him, swollen with need and desperate for more. He obliges without question.

It's like he splits me in half as I part for him, stretching around his length until I'm full all the way up and gasping for air.

He groans, "Need to be quiet in here. If you make a noise, I'm going to pull out."

The metal digs into my wrists, the wooden desk cool beneath my touch as he's buried fully into me and I adjust to his size. I fight to be quiet. When he's satisfied, he begins to fuck into me, deep and hungry and restless.

My skin heats up, a deep ache growing between my thighs as pleasure builds up all through my body. A shake runs through me as my core feels both numb and alive at his mercy, shockwaves of pleasure going everywhere with each thrust, each roll of his hips against me. I clutch at something, anything, my fingers scrunching and tearing through neatly penned reports Michael's left out all over the desk. Oops.

"Bad girl," Tommy murmurs, taking a handful of my hair in his hands. There's a sweet ache at my scalp as he tugs. "Now stop destroying my cousin's things."

I whimper and shudder beneath him, no longer able to contain it or hold it back. My walls flutter around him as release floods through me, building slowly at first then unleashing all at once. I try to reach back, to take his hips in my hands so he can't pull out like he threatened if I made noise, but once again I'm bound by handcuffs.

"Oh, yes. There it is," he groans.

Tommy leans down over me, our bodies pressed together as he takes my face in one hand. He says into my ear, "Tomorrow, you can go back to your father, and pretend I didn't just make you come all over me."

I'm gagged and wordless, capable of no more than my eyes rolling back in response as I feel his thrusts get sharper, more desperate. And then, like he needs it, he tugs the fabric from my mouth, freeing me to speak at last.

All I can manage through whimpers is, "Polly says you're to pull out."

"So desperate to be covered in it, are you? Good girl."

There's an empty ache as he withdraws, one hand tense around me while he uses the other to bring himself to finish. He moans out, and then I feel him across my ass, warm liquid covering my skin while he pants and releases. By this point I'm lightheaded, stars burning at the edges of my vision, my body already feeling empty.

Once he's recovered, Tommy says, "Stay there. I'll find something to clean up."

My mouth drops open as he leaves the room. Oh, sure. Don't mind me. Just left here in this position, unable to move an inch in case I smear evidence of what we did all over Michael's desk...

Michael. Oh no. I squirm in horror, glancing back to the reports I entirely mussed up while preoccupied.

Tommy returns with a warm flannel and my cheeks burn the entire time he cleans me up. Once he's done, I pull myself upright, holding out my wrists expectantly. He raises an eyebrow, then lights a cigarette.

"Release me," I say quietly.

He doesn't respond. Just exhales, looking at me. As always, unreadable.

I tap my fingers against the desk. "See? I'm tapping out. Now, unlock these cuffs, or I'll have Polly tell me where you keep the bolt cutters."

Maybe that was mean, I think, as he wastes no time retrieving the keys and releasing me. I knew the threat of bolt cutters would work because he'd worry I'll get hurt. But the second I tapped out, he relented.

And this is the man who doesn't relent.

I turn that over in my mind as he takes me in his arms, pressing a kiss to forehead before he leaves.

And then I prepare to leave, too.