˗ˏˋ꒰ 💰 ꒱ ━ ☐ Thomas Shelby never thought he would fall in love with a whore. In the bustling streets of 1920s Birmingham, Alicent, a prostitute since her teenage years, with her irresistible charm, had only one goal : to make money. Every encounte...
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AS THE DAYS, weeks, and months went by, he continued to bring her money, always discreetly, ensuring she never felt diminished by his help. He brought her groceries, clothes, books—everything that could restore a semblance of dignity and hope.
One day, he arrived with a bouquet of vibrant flowers. But upon entering, he found her sitting on the bed, her face marked by silent tears streaming down her cheeks. The sight of her red-rimmed eyes pierced his heart.
She looked up, surprised, and a fleeting smile graced her lips, but he couldn't help but notice the sadness that lingered in her gaze. "You're here," she murmured.
He quickly approached, placing the bouquet on the table before taking her hands in his. "What's wrong ?"
She shook her head, her tears resurfacing. Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms. He could feel her sobs vibrating against him, and he held her tighter, as if to impart his strength.
Without a word, she rested her hands on his shoulders and, with infinite tenderness, kissed him. Her lips, still moist from her tears, mingled with his, bringing an unexpected warmth and sweetness.
He responded to her kiss with a mix of hesitation and desire, but he quickly felt her fingers glide down his torso, moving toward the buttons of his shirt. She began to unfasten them one by one, her movements precise, almost determined. Thomas let her continue, but a small voice in his head urged him to pause for a moment.
He gently grasped her hands, interrupting her movements, and locked his gaze with hers. "Is this really what you want ?"
She nodded slowly, her lips slightly parted. "Yes," she murmured with a confidence that surprised him. "I need you, here and now."
Tommy looked at her for a long time, trying to ensure she wasn't forcing herself, that she wasn't doing this out of desperation. But all he saw in her eyes was sincerity. So, without further hesitation, he allowed her to continue.
Alicent resumed where she had left off, her fingers brushing against his skin as she untangled his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders before letting it fall to the floor. She moved closer, her chest brushing against his, and kissed him again, this time with more intensity, as if she were trying to lose herself in the moment, to forget everything else.
He slipped his hands on her face, gently stroking her cheek before guiding her to bed and slowly removing her nightgown. Then he leaned over to her, laid a kiss on her lips, and descended lower, beyond her collarbones, lingering around her breasts, before beginning to kiss her left nipple, closing his lips around the little pimple, letting his tongue run across it.
He moved his second hand on his right nipple, beginning to draw circles around it while sucking the other. She was moaning like a whore.
"You know what, shit," she said suddenly. She put her hands to her pants that barely concealed her erection, started opening the fly and gently pulled her member out.
"Alicent..."
"Shut up." Before he could say anything else, she pushed him onto the bed, now above it, and then slid along its length. She shamelessly let her head fall back in a moaning of painful pleasure at stretching.
She swung her hips back and forth, making them rub against her sensitive bowels, making both of them moan. He was all hers now, stuck between her legs and feeling the warmth she had accumulated for him during all those months. She moaned more as she quickened the pace, so much that her breasts bounced with every movement. He loved it.
All she cared about was what happened between her legs, and the intense amount of pleasure it gave her. He slipped his hands on her and her breasts, massaging them and groping them.
"My God, I'm so close."
She collapsed against him, her breath still short, her chest rising and falling rapidly against him. Their bodies, still entwined, were covered in a thin sheen of sweat. She rested her forehead against his shoulder, closing her eyes, exhausted but at peace.
Thomas's fingers slowly glided along her back, tracing lazy circles on her bare skin. He could feel the quickened rhythm of her heartbeat, right against him. They stayed like that for a long while, cradled in the silence of the room, their breaths synchronized, as if the outside world no longer existed.
"Alicent..."
She didn't respond right away. Her face remained buried against his chest, and he felt the warmth of her tears, light yet real, trickling down his skin. These tears were silent, born not of immediate sadness, but of something deeper, something older.
Concerned, he held her a little tighter, his arms encircling her like an invisible shield. "Alicent... why are you crying ?" he asked.
She lifted her head, her eyes red, but her face bore an odd serenity. "I don't know," she finally admitted, her voice fractured.
Tommy gazed at her for a long moment, his heart tightening at her words. He understood her fears, for they were his own. The world they lived in, the choices they had made, all of it drew them further from the peace they might have hoped for.
"I won't let you down, you know ?" he murmured, brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead.
She knew a part of them was irreparably broken, that they had already traveled a path from which it was difficult to return. Yet, for a moment, for this night, she wanted to believe in those words. To believe that they could escape the fate that seemed to lurk around every corner. She nestled against him again, closing her eyes, trying to savor every second of this embrace. "I just want this to last," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
He didn't respond immediately, simply holding her, reassuring her with his presence, as if that could ward off the storms to come. But deep down, Thomas knew they were walking a tightrope, that the slightest misstep could send them tumbling down.
