Choking On Sapphires

36 Beast of Burden (NSFW)

Alfie had been so nice to you that morning, unusually so and it was hard not to give away your secret in your smile as his compliments came with cheek kisses and shoulder squeezes, getting both unprovoked at breakfast wasn't something he'd done before. Alfie had sat you down after he came in from work that same day. His eyes showed pity and his face showed his hesitancy to share what he thought Thomas was trying to do to you. You sell it and sell it well. You leave him in a similar fashion to the night he'd filled your house with lavender. You thank him, tears threatening to fall, with a single kiss, your thumb rubbing his cheek as you sigh and excuse yourself. The poor lad was never the wiser.

After seeing how revealingly kind Alfie had been, in both what he said to Tommy and what he'd told you had happened, you felt a lingering pang of guilt knocking around in your head along with your reasons for doing it. You had to be certain about his loyalty to you if you were to truly accept this new gangster lifestyle. You hadn't had a choice. A woman in this life didn't get a second chance if she trusted the wrong person. You already owned one street, working on a second and you couldn't move forward without knowing you'd have him in your corner. You wanted to thank him, and there was one way that you could that you knew he'd appreciate.

It's almost ten, you're in Alfie's room, looking out the window to the forest and rolling hills. The sound of summer storm moving across the land rumbles the panes and sends a calm throughout the house. You thought he'd be home by now, your nails tap on the glass as your teeth worry away at your lips. You were starting to chill with the thin fabric of the gown you wore. You'd planned on slithering right up to him as he walked in the door and spending the night thanking him with your body for being such a good boy through this whole ordeal.

By the time he gets home, it's hours later. You'd fallen asleep in his bed, determined to see your plan through, and the need to warm up after your choice in pajamas fell short on the coverage of your body for warmth.

"What the fuckin' hell ya doin' in 'ere Genny?" is what you're woken up by. You sit up with a grunt, running your hand through your hair.

"Waiting for you..." you grumble, voice heavy with sleep. You rub your eyes before focusing them on the clock, seeing the surprising hour.

"Well I kept ya waitin' dinnit I?" he says, tossing his jacket unceremoniously onto a chair. His brow is furrowed, circles under his eyes making him look gaunt. You can see the redness appearing on his neck as you could tell he'd been fidgeting and scratching himself in thought too often. You found a different sort of urge come over you from the intended one you'd come in with.

He sits on the opposite side of the bed as you laid on. He grunts with the impact, stretching his neck from side to side, triggering a huge yawn. You crawl over the bed and slink off the side to stand before him.

"Looks like you could use some kindness, darling." you say softly, fingers starting to work at the buttons on his vest.

"Ya got any to spare?" he asks, tired eyes looking up at you, you give him a sweet smile.

"I might be able to find some around here somewhere." you chuckle softly, moving to the buttons on his shirt.

"Ya don't gotta, sweetie I'm fuckin' barely still together after tonight." he yawns, his arms moving slowly and possibly subconsciously as you slide the layers off of him.

"I've been going through it this week as well, Fie." you kiss the top of his head, a grunt escaping from deep in his chest at the gesture. You get another grunt as you kneel down to pull off one of his shoes.

"Not that it ain't fuckin' heavenly havin' a creature like you tend to me, but ya ain't gotta-" he protests weakly.

"Hush, Alfie. I was trained to take care of men for most of my life, you know. I'm very good at it." you say with a bossy smile that slumps his shoulders in defeat. You move to place his shoes together at the foot of the bed for the maids to pick up to clean. He'd been somewhere disgusting tonight, the metallic smell of blood drifts by as the bottoms of his shoes have become disturbed. You move back to kneeling in front of him, grabbing his big toe playfully and tugging at his sock before rolling it down and off. The feel of your silken skin touching and tending to his sensitive never touched nerves of his ankles draws a heavy sigh from him as you ball it and toss it into a basket across the room. A single nod in victory as it lands where it's supposed to. You seamlessly move to repeat the action on the other foot.