Quicksand | A Peaky Blinders Fanfiction

Chapter 9

Michael

He didn't really know how it happened but here he was, stumbling through the corridors of the auction hall, the girl in the champagne dress in front of him, leading the way. Her fingers clasped his in a tight grip but her skin was soft and milky white. Michael had overestimated his ability to handle the alcohol and by now he had had more than just his first glass. Her eyes fluttered back to him, and a soft giggle escaped her at the prospect of what they were about to do. To be honest, Michael wasn't really sure where this was going. Sure, he had fooled around with girls in the village before, but this was entirely different. He didn't know the rules now. She didn't need to know that.

Less and less people stood around chatting the further they went and when the girl rounded a corner to the left, they were completely alone. The corridor ended after a couple feet, the dark red carpet leading up to a huge window. Michael could see the dark grey sky behind the glass but turned his eyes back to the beauty before him. She smiled seductively and drew herself nearer. Her hand moved up his chest, along the buttons of his immaculate suit and Michael had to admit he felt strong. Powerful, even. His hands came to rest on her slim waist, pulling her closer with a wicked smirk.

"You know, I never asked you why you're here," she almost whispered while her hands combed through the hair on the back of his neck. He felt her breath fan his face. "You don't seem the type to own a horse."

"I don't?" he quipped, raising his brows with a grin, "And what do you know? I could be a lord."

She giggled again, their combined weight shifting so that they were swaying slowly, almost like a dance.

"You're not a lord," she stated with a secret smile.

"How do you know?"

"You're too-," she seemed to choose her words carefully, thinking about what phrase would convey her thoughts best, "rough around the edges. If you were a lord you would be smoother, polished. You seem-" She faltered again.

"Poor?" he completed, but it was less of a joke than he intended it to be.

"like you're not one of the good guys," she whispered, "I saw you with the other men you're here with earlier. They looked like trouble."

His lips broke into a wide grin. Michael put all his confidence in it, all of the questionable reputation he had acquired by being part of the Peaky Blinders. He wouldn't give her any information of course, but knowing what he knew and seeing her eyes widen slightly made him truly feel like he was part of this dangerous life.

"They are," he confirmed, "and I am one of them." He closed the gap between their faces until his nose was brushing hers and their lips were almost touching. "Does it worry you?" he mumbled. Her lashes fluttered again, her eyes half closed in expectance. Instead of an answer, she kissed him, slowly but urgently. Her lips were soft, the red lipstick she was wearing slightly bitter on his tongue. Michael gripped her tighter and she gasped slightly. He picked up the pace, capturing her lips hungrily and she responded happily. He didn't know if she let herself fall backwards, or if he pushed her, maybe both, but suddenly her back hit the wall of the corridor, his chest pressing her even more into it. The girl lifted her chin and his mouth travelled along her jawline. His teeth scraped softly over her skin until he kissed her neck, just under her ear. Michael could smell her delicate perfume. It was an expensive one, heavy and tranquil. It filled his senses, mesmerizing him, urging him further. Her hands clung to his shoulders, she was whimpering softly. He could feel her leg wrapping around him. Without hesitation, his hand found her thigh. Her dress had hitched up further so that his fingers now brushed her bare skin. Michael pulled her leg a bit higher and suddenly she was even closer to him, every inch of her body pressed against his. He gasped in surprise, still close to her throat. The girl felt him falter and her hand slit along his shoulders, up until she cradled his cheek. She lifted his chin up to meet his eyes. For the first time, Michael noticed that she was out of breath too, her pupils dilated, lips swollen. It was like a magnet pulled him back to her. Their lips collided again their teeth meeting for a moment before her warm tongue brushed his bottom lip.