Lethal Lover

7. Liam

Iescort Elena to my car, carrying a large canvas bag full of letters she’s received from her fans. She is quiet, looking glum, despite the armful of roses she carries, compliments of the fans who wanted to see Nina but were instead gifted with her presence. I’m glad these things aren’t affecting her. It shows me she isn’t vain like some actresses who live for the adoration of their growing fanbase. Elena has her head on her shoulders. She knows life is about more than being adored by the crowd.

“That’s me there,” I tell her, nodding at the black Mercedes limo. It’s one she hasn’t seen yet. My other one is somewhere miles away from the city now, driven by my acquaintance who is currently whisking Smitty to a safe location for medical treatment. No one can know he was driving that cab, and a man who does a job well needs to be cared for well. So, Annapolis will be his home for a few months while he recovers.

“How many cars do you have?” she asks, sounding unbelieving, and I chuckle.

“I’m a man of many tastes.” And tonight, I have a taste for her, but first, I have to get her in the mood. Slick appears at the back door, opening for us as we approach. He gives me a knowing nod as I raise my eyebrows at him. He was tasked with making sure Smitty got out, and his slight nod tells me the job has been successful. No one will tie me or my men to this one, and my father will have no reason to bitch at me.

“We’re taking Ms. Cortez home tonight,” I tell him as I climb in.

Smitty shuts us in, and I set the large bag of mail on the ground between our feet. Elena cradles the flowers, but she couldn’t be less interested in them. Her attention is on the dark theater where every audience member has already left and the only cast members who remain are preparing for their trip to the hospital.

“Maybe I should go…” Her eyes dart around, staring at the marquee and then the lobby cards hung outside the building.

“You’re tired. They won’t even be able to get in to see her. We’ll go tomorrow if you want.” I touch her leg, and she reaches for my hand, clutching it in hers without looking at me.

“She could be seriously hurt.” Her lip quivers as she talks, and I squeeze her hand. She looks at me with a serious expression. “I’m worried. That could have been me. What if there is more to this?”

I shake my head, discouraging that thought. Of course there’s more to this. I’m orchestrating every single step of this for her sake. She has no idea what I’m doing for her career by pulling these strings, and I’m not going to tell her. She needs to stay perfectly in the dark about it all. As far as she is concerned, these are random coincidences.

“Trust me, Elena. I’ve lived in this city for a very long time. I know what I’m talking about. There are dozens of car accidents every single day. Dozens of muggings every single week.” Her eyes grow wide, and she swallows hard.

“I thought you said they didn’t happen that often.”

“They don’t happen to smart people. They happen to people who take risks—careless driving, going out with large sums of money alone, people who dress in expensive clothing but don’t take precautions. I’m telling you, there is no connection between these two occurrences other than the random coincidence that they both knew you.” My speech is winning her over. She leans closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder, and I know she believes me.

“I still don’t like it.” She squirms her hand out of my grasp and snuggles into my side, and I put my arm around her snugly.

“Let’s get your mind off that, okay? Want to read some of your fan mail?”

I’m not interested in reading her letters. I want to burn them all. I want her praise to come from me alone, so she doesn’t get an eye for anyone else. But I want her in a lighter mood when we get to her place so she feels like inviting me up to have a drink. I reach into the bag and pull out a few letters, and she takes one. As she sits up, I open another, tearing through the envelope easily.

Before I even read the letter, I’m annoyed. This man has sent a picture of himself topless, though at least it isn’t a dick pic. He’s not even all that good looking, but he has brass, I’ll give him that. Elena doesn’t seem to see the picture, so I slide it into the breast pocket of my jacket and fold the slip of paper open to reveal very neat handwriting.

“Look at this!” she squeals and shows me a picture drawn by what appears to be a very young child. It’s a stick figure of a woman with red hair on a stage holding flowers. “This is from Sarah Crabb. She watched my performance a few weeks ago and wanted to tell me how she now wants to be on Broadway when she grows up and it’s all because of me.” I see tears welling up in her eyes and decide maybe all of her fan mail isn’t bad. Some of it, though, like this letter from a douchebag stalker-type, is very bad.

“That’s incredible. You’re inspiring a new generation.” I smile at her and turn my attention back to the letter in my hands, and she leans over my shoulder.

“What’s that one say?” she asks, and I grit my teeth before responding politely.

“It says, ‘Dear Elena. Your performance in Shantytown Heights was magnificent. I knew the critic was horribly wrong in his review the first night. You’re gorgeous and you have the voice of an angel. I want to meet you sometime. I think we’d get along just fine. XOXO Albert Looker.’” I fold the letter shut and lay it to the side, and she snickers.

“Guess someone’s jealous.” She reaches for the sack, and I almost snatch her wrist and snap at her, but I can’t. I’m not carefully manipulating every single thing in the background to focus her attention only on me, simply to fuck it up by letting my inner beast out.

“Can you blame me?” I say playfully. “You’re New York’s leading lady and the fans adore you. Any man you date will feel insecure.” I am nothing of the sort. Not insecure, not jealous, just carefully selective about who influences my property.

“You have nothing to worry about.” Her smile stretches to her eyes, and I can see she’s finally shaking off some of the emotion of the evening. “Besides, like you told Warren, you’re my boyfriend… Even if we didn’t technically define ourselves as boyfriend and girlfriend yet.”

“Ah, you liked that, did you?” I watch as she takes another letter out and tears it open. She shrugs one shoulder.

“I don’t dislike it.” The playful way she flirts with me drives me insane. I want to spread that pussy open and devour her, but I have to be patient.

“I like you, Elena.”

“I like you too, Liam.”

For the rest of the trip, we go through some of her mail. There are a few letters I strongly dislike, but she’s conscious of it in ways that make me truly believe in the depth of human compassion. If it were me, those men would never write to her or anyone else again. But she brushes their compliments off and focuses on me. And when we pull up at her apartment building, she seems nervous.

“Here we are. Home sweet home.” I’m waiting, basking in the enjoyment she gives me. My plan to subconsciously coerce her into my arms is working so very well. Except that she doesn’t seem to feel comfortable with me at this current moment.

“Thank you for the ride…” She slides toward the door, but I grab her hand.

“Who will carry your stuff up?” I’m itching to be there with her, and I hope it doesn’t show on my face. The idea of tapping her virgin pussy drives me forward, but it has to be her idea.

Her eyes flick toward the bag of mail, then the armload of roses. “Would you help me?” she asks shyly, and I grin.

“Does this mean you’re inviting me up for a drink?” I can’t contain the eagerness to get her alone. My cock is already swelling and I’m not even in her apartment.

“One drink, yes.” Elena slides out as soon as Slick opens the door, and I follow her.

I stand outside the car with the bag in hand and pat my boy on the chest. “Ten a.m., buddy,” I tell him, and he bumps my fist as Elena turns toward me and smiles.

“You ready?” she asks, and I’m thankful she didn’t hear that.

“Let’s roll, Boss. I’m thirsty.”

Upstairs, she shows me her small studio apartment. Places like this go for more than two-grand a month. I’m amazed she can even afford it, but I don’t know what actresses on Broadway make. It doesn’t matter, anyway. If she told me she couldn’t afford it, I’d pay a year in advance for her. It’s small and cramped but clean.

“I have some bourbon, but nothing fancy.” Elena hovers by the kitchen counter, and I set the canvas bag on a chair.

“Bourbon, neat, is fine.” My eyes wash over the room, trying to pick the perfect spot in this tiny space to enjoy her. It comes down to the couch or the plush rug on the floor between the coffee table and television. Then I look back at her as she pours two glasses of the sweet but tart alcohol. She hands me one and gestures with her head toward the sofa.

“Want to sit down?” Her angelic voice coaxes me, and I follow her, sitting closer to her than is necessary, but I think she understands what I want… why I’m here. I down the drink in one gulp, and she blushes and does the same, though she gasps a little and coughs. “Wow,” she breathes, continuing to cough a little.

“Wow is right. Elena, you are stunning, and you handle yourself with such tact and poise. I am mesmerized by you.” I reach for her, cupping her cheek, and she shies away.

“Liam, I’m…” She hesitates, but I lean in for a kiss, which she accepts.

“I know, you’re a virgin, which is why I will take it slow. I’ll make it exquisite for you. I’ll wear protection, whatever you want.” I lean in again, this time nipping her lower lip between my teeth.

“I want to talk about you, get to know you.” Her volume is so quiet, I almost can’t hear her. “We barely know each other.”

“We’ll learn more about each other as we go.” My kisses are so restrained, I am bursting. If she toys with me, I’ll end up smashing things when I leave here. But I won’t force her. That is the fastest way to make sure she clams up and pushes me away. I don’t want a slave. I want a worshiper. And by the end of this, she’ll be my loyal subject.

“Okay,” she squeaks, and I wonder whether it’s the emotion of the day or she’s feeling pressured by me. If she doesn’t know how to say no and I do this, it’s as good as a rape conviction. Won’t Dad love that?

“Okay, what?” I ask her, backing away. But my hands are already working the fly of my pants.

She’s breathless, rosy lips raw from kissing, and she bats her eyelashes slowly. Her hand covers her mouth, but I can see the starry-eyed look she gives me. “Okay, I’ll have sex with you.”

“And you want this? Not because I’m asking, but because you want it?” I’ll take whatever she gives me. This whole consent thing is always taken too far, but I can’t wind up in court fighting bullshit charges. I’ll be the leader of this Family soon, and I have to have a clean record.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” she groans, draping her arms around my neck, and that’s all she has to say. My body is on fire and my hands are on her. I lay her down, nestling in between her legs as she spreads her thighs to me. My lips cover hers in a frenetic and hungry dance. I can’t feel her skin. There’s too much clothing, and I don’t have enough hands to touch all the places I want, all at the same time.

As I kiss her, I work her jeans off her, discarding them carelessly to the floor. Her panties are already soaked through, and she smells like arousal and whiskey. My fingers probe her entrance in a rough-and-tumble way, pushing past her panties. She cries out against my lips, wriggling below me, and I add another finger as she clenches around me. “Fuck, you’re so tight. This little cunt is going to feel so amazing.” I let my internal thoughts out, not even caring what she thinks of my vulgar comment.

“Ahh…” Her back arches up off the sofa, pushing her tits against my chest, and with one hand, I work her pussy as with the other, I tear her shirt open and unsnap her bra in front so her tits bounce free.

I break the kiss and suck a nipple into my mouth, biting down hard. Her back arches upward as I knead her other breast in my palm. They are perfectly sized, not too much to squeeze, not too little to be enjoyable.

“Ouch!” she gasps, and I look up at her face. “I like it rough,” I tell her, but I ease up a bit on the bite, instead pulling and teasing with my teeth. Her other nipple gets the same rough treatment as my hand continues to work her cunt. She’s so wet now that a trickle of arousal runs down her thigh. I smell her too, like honeysuckle and ocean air. I want to dive in and eat her.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore and I stand up. “Bend over the back of this couch.” She hastily does as she’s told, but not fast enough for me. I tug her panties off her and throw them on top of her shirt and bra. “Stay,” I growl in her ear before tearing my own clothing off. It all drops to the floor in a heap, and I stroke myself, watching her quiver in anticipation.

“Liam… Remember, I’m?—”

“Oh, I didn’t forget. That virgin pussy is mine.” I grip her hips and slide my cock against her juices. The moisture eases the pressure I feel as my dick screams to be inside her. “Fuck, your ass is so perfect,” I tell her as I smack it hard. She gasps and whimpers, her entire body going stiff.

“Fuck, ouch…” She moans, but I smack her again and she shudders. “Shit…” I watch her hands claw at the back of the couch and smirk as I grip my cock and slide it up and down her crack, finding her entrance. Her knuckles are white. She’s expecting this to hurt.

“You might want to bite down on something,” I tell her, but she only arches her head upward as I slowly slide into her. Her entire body tenses, and she shakes and grunts.

“Fuck!” she moans as I push inch after inch into her tightness. Her walls grip me like a vise, and I groan as I finally bottom out. “God, you feel so good.” My hips begin to move, in and out, slowly at first, but with each thrust, I pick up the pace. She’s a little whore for me now, moaning and panting my name with each pump inside her. I feel the instant her delicious pussy gives way and tears. It coats my dick with her blood briefly before her moisture dilutes it and it just becomes more of the mess of our sex.

“Shit, your pussy is incredible,” I tell her, reaching around to roughly play with her clit as my hips slam home. “You like it rough, don’t you? You like it when I talk dirty?”

“Yes,” she moans. “Oh, God, Liam…” She’s frantic, practically begging. And she’s loud, too, like, shake the walls loud.

“So tight,” I growl in her ear as I slowly start to move, pulling out until only the tip of my cock remains inside her before sliding back in an inch at a time. “Beautiful…” I praise her as she takes more of me, teasing us both with the slowness of it all.

“Fuck, you’re huge. Oh, God, it’s so big.” The frantic gasps between comments only egg me on. “Shit, oh, shit!” She’s sucking air, sounding almost panicked.

My cock pumps into her, and I feel myself climbing toward climax. She sounds desperate, and her moans get higher pitched by the second. “Liam, I’m gonna…” A gasp chokes her as her pussy clamps down on me. She gurgles and squeezes me. If I could see her face, I’m certain her eyes would be rolling back in her head.

“That’s right, come for Daddy!” I growl, and it’s all the encouragement she needs as she shudders around my cock. The convulsions and twitches excite me, but I hold back. This isn’t how I want to come.

“Oh, fuck, yes…” she screams out, her body going tense before collapsing forward against the couch cushions. The twitches and spasms of her climax linger, like waves crashing over her body, until she’s limp and whimpering. I withdraw, my cock soaked in her juices and my precum. Her ass cheeks are red from my slaps, and I smirk as I tap her ass cheek with my girth. “Condom,” she squeaks out, but I have none.

“I have a better idea,” I tell her as I walk around the end of the couch. She’s draped over the back at the perfect height for me, and I tip her chin up. Those rosy-red lips are supple and soft, and I want my cock buried between them.

“Oh, God, Liam, I’ve never…” Her rebuttal is met with my dick smearing her moisture all over her face. Her cheeks and lips glisten, and she pulls away, but I hold her head still.

“Don’t you think I know what I’m doing?” I ask, and as she opens her mouth to protest, I slide in.

“Suck it, baby.” I guide her head by a fistful of hair, thrusting forward as she tries to suck. Her whimpers are followed by gags, and when her throat constricts around my head, I shudder. It’s so tight, so incredibly hot, I can’t contain myself. “That’s it. Oh, God, baby. You’re gonna suck me off good.” I continue thrusting.

“Mmmph,” is all she manages to mumble around my cock as she gags and sucks at the same time. She does so well, and I’m vaguely aware of a grunt escaping me as my balls draw up, my hand still in her hair. She pushes me to the edge until I can’t hold back at all. I pull out and replace her sucking with my stroking as my cock unloads strings of sticky cum all over her face. She gasps and blinks, pressing against my thighs as my juices coat her skin.

“Good girl,” I praise her as I ease off. “Now, lick it clean, and not a drop is allowed to escape that pretty mouth.” She obeys without question. I sit back and watch her do as she’s told, her eyes glazed over with lust and submission. I want this again, and I want to tap her ass next, and based on the way she’s looking at me and the fact that the alcohol has likely kicked in now, she wants it too.

I force her head backward and use my thumb to wipe a bit of cum off her face as I say, “Give me ten minutes and we’ll go again.”

Elena blinks at me and nods, biting her lower lip. Fuck, I love this woman so much, or maybe I love the way she makes me feel. Isn’t it the same thing?