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High Profile (ShadowOfDesire and Catalyst)

The exact moment that those pale pink lips slipped over his cock caused a sudden and deep, guttural murmur of unrestrained pleasure to catch in his throat. He felt the head of his cock become sheathed behind them, that first moment of contact with her tongue gliding along the underside of his tip sending a harsh shiver rolling through him that caused it to twitch. The anticipation of the feeling only served to elevate it that much more. But he had barely but a brief moment to adjust to the sensation before he felt her shift, lifting her head toward him.

Her movement sent his cock slipping downward, tongue wrapping about him and beckoning him in, until he soon began to feel the pressure of her throat surrounding him. "Uuuuunghhhh..." he finally managed to rumble out as he slipped little by little deeper into that eagerly waiting mouth, coating him immediately and thoroughly in her warm saliva. The touch of her hand at his balls was unexpected but clearly welcomed, as they tensed slightly in response, eliciting both another subtle shudder and a groan from the man to whom they were attached.

Not a moment to soon, he lowered himself over her, bringing his own head back down between her legs, her sweet scent once more filling him. The change in position coaxed his length further into her embrace. The next thing she would feel, in return, was the slow drag of his tongue over her little flower, losing himself in its captivating flavor. Sucking on her inner lips. Slipping his tongue back inside of her and taking in her essence. Breathing hot breath against her and taking hold of her with strong hands, elbows bracing himself on the bed. And then fixing his mouth over her swollen clit at long last, feasting on it, and alternating between massaging her in little circles with his tongue and flitting it vigorously back and forth over her, with every intention hellbent upon making her moan and hum in pleasure around his thick shaft.

Subconsciously, his hips started to stir, moving up and back a fraction, and then forward in a slow movement to push himself even further into her throat. Her tongue brushing against the underside of his dick and all around his tip drove him absolutely wild, and he could not help himself but start to slowly fuck her face.
 
The moaning vibration he craved came the moment he buried his face against her sex once more, sending tiny explosions of joy flowing through her again. Her high-pitched cry, muffled by his cock, was a clear indicator that his maddening skills had struck the right chord. She squirmed against his mouth, varying the depth and angle of his attack by fractions with the shift of her hips. The throbbing pulse at her apex sent heavenly shivers through her while she pleasured him in return.

Her eyes closed as she worked, free hand sliding from his sack to dig her fingers into the muscular firmness of his ass when he began to thrust. Her own bobs moved in counter to his wriggling hips, wanting to swallow ever more of that shaft, seeking to suck the entire thing deep into her mouth. The larger head pressed time and again against the back of her throat, causing her to stiffen and convulse, but it certainly didn't stop her from sucking. She enjoyed it, enjoyed him and the taste of his cock, as well as the shared pleasure they were experiencing. His mouth was doing wicked things to her dripping pussy while her tongue performed the same.

Most of the time when in that position, she'd been on top and in control. Pinned beneath him, three of her limbs restrained, this situation was vastly different. She had control over the speed and pressure with which she sucked, but there was little else that remained within her power. It was comforting, in a way, having that weight atop her. She was trapped, certainly, but it didn't much feel like one -- not with the way he flicked his tongue back and forth over her clit.

Her moans grew louder in volume the longer they sucked, body rising quickly toward that familiar crest. Her thighs trembled as her hips bucked, pushing herself against his mouth time and again. While she was busy with his cock, she sought the smaller version in his tongue, using him for pleasure as he did the same to her. Eventually, soft glugging noises accompanied her cries as he cut off her air time and again. She drew in deep breaths through her nose when allowed, though the need for air was secondary in her opinion. If she passed out with his cock in her mouth, she'd already decided she'd be dying happy.
 
Electrical shocks of ecstasy tingled all throughout his body with each push that sent his stiff cock deep down her throat. Deep, but never deep enough. Always craving more. The veins of his thick cock pulsed with hot blood and adrenaline against her from the inside. His swollen head was subject to all of the perfect friction her mouth and throat provided, the length of him lubed up only by the thick saliva that coated him. And those sexy little moans of hers, rumbling against him, desperate to escape...God, it felt so perfect.

The way she took him so deeply without hesitation, never relenting for so much as a second...it was every bit as incredibly sexy as it was downright impressive. Even the subtle spasms of her esophagus around him did not stop her. Now, the more he realized she could take, the more he wanted to give her; the more he wanted to feel her. His body's rhythm soon grew faster and more enthusiastic, pressing himself forward until the entirety of his member was surrounded by the tight hold of her throat and the warm wetness of her mouth and tongue, pushing her to her limit.

He was practically growling, like a savage, insatiable animal as he buried his face in her dripping wet snatch, content to suffocate himself in her. His heavy balls were close enough to slap her in the face as he found himself thrusting into her throat, pulsing as he fucked her face, aching with pleasure. The sloppy sounds of his mouth feverishly devouring her filled the room. He wanted more, still. He craved those violent, erratic movements of her hips against him almost as much as he craved the suction of her lips about him. He could not remember the last time anyone had sucked his cock so expertly, nor did he believe he'd ever tasted a cunt so absolutely delicious.

It was almost difficult to keep at it when she was taking him so readily, but that did not stop him. Nothing could. He was too hungry for her now to stop fucking her with his mouth for even a moment. He braced himself on one arm, lifting the other up to replace his tongue at her clit with his hand, rubbing her furiously as he lowered his head and once more penetrated her with his tongue. Drowning himself in her desire and refusing to come up for air. Had it not been for those restraints that bound her wrist and both ankles so helplessly to the bed, there may well have been little evidence that she was his captive, at that moment. He was using her to get himself off, relentlessly, and yet simultaneously, he was giving her an experience the likes of which she'd likely never felt, giving in to all of his primal urges and appetite, with no end to either in sight.
 
There was no possible way that Sofia could withstand such an onslaught. He'd worked her body so expertly, devoured her to the point that she was screaming around his cock whenever she drew breath. Her throbbing cunt and swollen clit demanded her full attention in that moment, which halted her bobbing head, but his thrusting continued to delve deeply into her throat as her head rested against the mattress. Before he could hear her cries, he could feel her trembling body hovering at the precipice. Then she shattered into countless pieces, shards of pleasure bursting from her cunt where his tongue thrust into her time and again, an explosion of blinding white that flowed through her from the clit rubbed so vigorously by his fingers.

Her body arched beneath him, wrist and ankles pulling at the bonds holding her, eyes closed tightly as she seized. The vibrations flowed through his cock, telegraphing her bliss to rumble through them both. Her fingernails dug into the leg that rested beside her cheek as wave upon wave crashed over and through her, sweeping her away. It took her a few moments to return to herself, though when she did she resumed her almost violent sucking of his massive cock as his balls slapped against her face, moaning all the while.

That free hand slid from his leg to heft his balls in her hand, stopping their bounce so that she could fondle them properly once again. Rolling them in her fingers, tugging lightly, she teased him while he thrust, wanting to taste that fresh bust of saltiness coating her throat. Twisted and dirty. She wasn't thinking of how depraved she was acting in that moment. Only that he'd just given her a mind-blowing orgasm, and she wanted to repay him with the same.
 
Her violent, thrashing approach to the heavens sent her mound crashing against his face time and time again with all the force of a wild, bucking mare. A mare he had become hellbent on personally taming and breaking for his own desires. Her screams of pleasure were muffled only by the throbbing cock that stretched out her very throat as it filled her, using her face as his own personal fuck-toy while he feasted upon her with unrelenting, ever-increasing attention at her hot, velveteen sex. Her impending climax only drove him to suck at her lower lips and tongue her sopping wet cunt as feverishly as possibly could, taking everything that her body had to offer him and more, assaulting her with all of those overwhelming sensations until she absolutely could not bare it any longer.

He gripped at her tightly as he felt her body begin to quiver uncontrollably beneath him, riding the turbulent surges of her hips against him when her body clenched about his tongue and her limbs pulled tightly against their restraints in desperation. He groaned out in instinctive approval of her release, burying his face in her essence to ensure that not a moment of bliss, nor a drop of her lust escaped him. He would ride her out until her body gave way, his warm mouth remaining upon her, sucking, teasing...torturing her with slower, intent movements about her incredibly sensitive sex, as he gave full attention to his own cock, forcefully sheathing himself in her mouth.

His balls were aching, yearning to explode and to release all that they had, and her own eruption had only exacerbated that need. In spite of the fact that the young stripper at that club had just helped him to empty himself not more than hours before, he felt himself welling up, full to bursting with his own passion. Her hand upon his balls brought him an immense pleasure that made it all but impossible to resist. Between that, and the coating of her saliva, the friction of her tongue and her throat sending shudders through his rod, he was soon moaning aloud himself, holding onto her and pressing his face into her as his thrusts grew faster. He could hear the wet sounds of himself fucking her face, hear her being forcibly choked with every plunge, and he kept right on going until his nuts spasmed at her touch, and he was suddenly overcome, shooting his hot, thick load down her throat. So overcome, that his entire world went completely black, enveloping him for several long moments in perfection that threatened to take him, grounded only by the feeling of her rough, dirty sucking upon his twitching cock.
 
She couldn't escape him, his wicked mouth or tongue, and she truly didn't wish to in that moment. The heat of his mouth upon her sensitive flesh only heightened her need to make him climax, if only to cease the twinging sensations in her sex. She couldn't even close her legs to block him out. No, she was wide open to his exquisite brand of torture and it made her moan even more.

His explosion came without warning, though the tightening sack in her hand hinted that he was close. She choked several times over, tensing each time he gagged her with his cock and the massive load of cum that hit the back of her throat. She swallowed instinctively, gulping down his offering until her lungs burned from lack of breath while her head bobbed along his length again. She sucked until the last hot load spurted into her mouth, until he stopped fucking her face, and his moans faded. Only then did she turn her head, releasing him so she could suck in a deep, ragged breath.

That spent member splattered against her cheek where it came to rest, still twitching and oozing despite how much it'd just emptied into her mouth. She drew in a second breath, a soft whimpering groan accompanying it as she closed her eyes. Her body was completely relaxed now, tension in her limbs gone thanks to his talented mouth, though her pussy still throbbed from her orgasm. He was still too close to that overly sensitive area, dangerously close to her swollen clit that twinged as she moved.

"Dios mio," she breathed, an aftershock causing her to shiver.
 
The release of his dick from the confines of her mouth was simultaneously a relief and a disappointment. He wanted more. So much more. To continue to feel her heat surrounding him. And yet in the aftermath of his body-quaking explosion, his nerves were overloaded with sensation. His head twitched and tingled with every little touch. It was all he had not to simply allow himself to temporarily collapse atop her as he took in his own ragged, unsteady breaths, reality slowly fading back in around him.

As moments passed, and the full realization of what had just transpired between them came to light, a wicked, exasperated chuckle escaped his lips. "Mmmm...You liked that, huh, princess?" he teased. His tip dripped a few rogue drops of cum upon her face, as he braced himself upon his elbows and prepared to dismount her. Before he did, though, he could not help himself but the take in her scent, and her taste, once more. With no warning, he lowered his head, and dragged his tongue over her clit and down the length of her slit, knowing full well what it would do to her, and knowing full well that she could do nothing about it.

He left her alas with an almost playful kiss at her lips, the taste of her lingering at the tip of his tongue even as he lifted himself from over her, leaving her lying upon the bed, open and exposed, and he turned himself around to face her. "God damn...you're pretty fuckin' good at sucking cock...I gotta give you that..." he relented with a sly look, licking his lips slowly as he met her eyes with his own, still partially catching his breath.
 
That last parting teasing lick of her pussy caused her to shudder and moan, body twitching away from the over stimulation that she couldn't escape. As he settled on the bed beside her, she licked her lips, tasting them both. Her free hand wiped at the sticky juices on her face before her head turned to face him. Half of his face was coated with her lust, glistening from nose to chin where he'd been buried inside her. Him. A killer. A stranger. She'd let him taste her.

That thought and his words brought a heat to her cheeks that brightened her complexion. She answered his look with one of her own. "So glad you approve. You're not so bad yourself."

Her chest heaved as she drew in another breath, panting softly as her body cooled. It wasn't enough to truly wind her, for her exertions had primarily been from the neck up, but he'd thrown off her breathing patterns with his massive cock. She swallowed again, the taste of him still thick in her mouth, even as her eyes moved down his body to his spent cock. "You fucked a stripper tonight," she said. It wasn't a question. "I could taste you, but not her, so I know you came at least once tonight. But then you come back here horny enough to go down on me? Is that normal for you?"

Her free hand tugged her shirt down a bit further. Now that he wasn't atop her, she could feel the chill of the apartment which dimpled her flesh with goosebumps.
 
"Not so bad?" he chuffed. "Sure, I'll take it. But your cunt seems to say a little more than just that." He grinned at her as he lifted one hand to wipe a bit of the residual wetness she'd drenched him in away from his face. Even then, though, he could not help himself but to lick it clean from his fingertips. Truly, he may well have been addicted to the taste of her.

His gaze wandered over her as she spoke up. He hadn't exactly made any secret of the fact that he'd already been taken care of before returning, but he was the slightest bit surprised when she addressed it. "Wasn't exactly part of the plan, to be honest," he admitted. "I just needed to get some information out of her. But, turns out the best way to do that with a stripper is fucking their brains out. What kind of idiot would I have been to say no to that?" he shrugged.

Gray eyes scanned her from head to toe; from the wrist still cuffed to her own headboard, to her deep chocolate eyes, to her bare, exposed sex. His hand reached down, finding a place on her thigh unexpectedly. "Depends," he said simply at first. "Not always...but sometimes, it is..." his fingers trailed along her skin absentmindedly. "Maybe I was just particularly horny tonight...or maybe it was just you..." He intentionally laced his final words with subtle emphasis. It wasn't as though someone as vain as her, with so many people fawning over her on a daily basis really needed such a compliment to feed her own self-confidence. But for all the things he could say about her, he had to admit, he was not sure when the last time was that someone had been able to tempt him and fill him with lust quite so easily. So much so, that he'd been thinking about her fleetingly even while fucking Candy. And so much so, that he knew he'd probably be tempted again before too long.
 
Her bare skin was smooth beneath his fingers, though the slight caress made her shiver. She inhaled deeply, wrenching her eyes from his gaze to stare at the ceiling. "Because what man doesn't want a woman tied up in bed, just waiting for him to come home and fuck her. Very flattering."

Twisting to her side as much as she could given her restraints, she clanged the handcuff against the bed again. "Think it's time you let me up now? You've been gone for hours, and my ass is getting sore from laying in one spot all night." Reaching down was a stretch, but she managed to snag the side of her underwear, working them up her body with one hand to cover that temptation his eyes kept straying toward.

She wasn't sure what it was about him that made her horny, either. It seemed as though he couldn't put a finger on it any more than she could. There was some sort of dangerous attraction between them, more than the simple lust between a man and woman.

"Let me guess at what information you had to pump out of your stripper. Looking for some place that sells clear platform heels in your size? Or were you asking her where she stocks up on body glitter? You've got some on your clothes, by the way."
 
"You saying you waiting for me to fuck you?" he mocked, intentionally twisting her words. "Don't tempt me."

He didn't really want to free her. Not yet. Admittedly, The idea of keeping her like this, and using her as a tool for his own pleasure was enticing indeed. A near-perfect body to look at. Big, full breasts and a round, firm ass to take hold of. A throat to fill and a hot, wet pussy to devour and to fuck. All whenever and however much he so chose. To turn the entitled, rich brat daughter of Miami royalty into a free-use toy. No, he did not have any qualms with that idea whatsoever.

Such thoughts left him disappointed to see her covering up, but he did not make a move to stop her. His cock was still semi-hard, but slowly returning to rest, and the cool air of the room was admittedly becoming more noticeable by the moment to him, as well. Though his sight was still fixated upon her, he rose from the bed, walking away and giving her a full view of his muscular ass while he searched for his own pants to put them back on.

"Close!" he called back sarcastically over his shoulder. "More like which filthy rich, corrupt bastards in this city are involved in a covert underground business ring." He buttoned his pants and returned to the bedside. "Funny you should mention the body glitter, though...cause it looks like you've got some of it on your face." He smirked wickedly.

He reached down and untied the rope from one of her ankles. The move effectively freed both of her legs to move, even before he'd released it from the other. Then, with a little silver key he'd brandished from his pants pocket, he freed her wrist from the cuffs, allowing her freedom, now that he was there to keep an eye on her...and now that he'd gotten some extra satisfaction from her, in the process.
 
"Gross. Now I'm definitely taking a shower," she muttered.

Sofia didn't rise from the bed immediately, but she did stretch with a slight groan and then compress to curl on her side. One hand rubbed the wrist that had been cuffed, but it had suffered little damage as she'd not struggled to free herself. Her ankles were another story. The writhing and wriggling she'd done while under assault of his mouth had chafed the sensitive skin and left reddened bands about each foot. As she sat up, she drew them up beneath her to inspect them, frowning slightly. As nothing was permanently damaged, there was nothing to do but wait for the marks to fade.

Finally sliding out of bed, she gathered up her little stash of food in her arms and threw him a glance. "I'm hungry for real food. You?"

Why she insisted on asking him and usually making him something to eat was beyond her. If anything, she should tell him to go to hell and make his own damn food. However, it seemed rude to be making food in front of someone without asking if they were hungry. That instinctive need to feed everyone was definitely part of her Latina heritage, as well as learned from her mother. Her mother didn't have to cook, not when she had money to hire a dozen cooks if she wanted, but she enjoyed it and Sofia's father had always indulged the hobby.

Swaying her way into the kitchen, she put everything away before digging through the fridge for something substantial to eat. She tried not to focus too much on carbs, but damned if she didn't want something heavy on bread after such a exquisite orgasm. She sighed, glancing his way. "I'm not in the mood for sandwiches, salad, or leftovers. You want pizza? There's a place open twenty-four-seven that delivers."

Of course, that'd mean another person making deliveries and knocking on the door. Another risk. Another chance she might make a break for it. But did he really think she was interested in doing that again? The woman that had just let him pleasure her and begged for his cock while he was doing it?

She leaned on the counter, arms resting beneath her breasts as she waited for his decision.
 
Brian followed not far behind her, gathering up the length of rope and handcuffs he'd used to restrain her in the process. Though neither had been brought along with the intention of having to use them on her, nor in the way he'd been forced to, both had proven to come in remarkably handy. If this is going to be a regular occurrence, he thought to himself, I'm going to have to prepare a bit better.

"Ah, so you DO eat like a normal person, sometimes." he huffed. "Good to know." Any deliveries, any interactions that brought the people of this city straight to her front door naturally carried their own risks. But ordering food, this late at night, after what the two of them had just done? Somehow, he found he was not all that concerned with the possibility, compared to his usual overcaution. And besides that, he was feeling pretty god damned hungry. "Sure, fuck it. Pizza will work." he agreed finally.

"Speaking of which, that reminds me..." He approached her, reaching into his pants and pulling out her cell phone, handing it to her. "You should probably get into contact with your family while you're at it...before they start getting worried about you. That's the last fuckin' thing I need to worry about." Of course, he had no intention of leaving her side while she had it in her possession. That was a risk he was not willing to take. Still, it did not make the point she'd made early that morning any less valid. He knew little of her family's tendencies. He knew even less about her friends' and acquaintances'. It was possible that no one had yet noticed that she'd gone missing at all. But it was equally possible that they had, and that they would be looking for her soon; that was, if they hadn't already been trying to reach her for the last two days. The latter would only serve to cause him far more problems than he was properly equipped to handle, should any of them come knocking.

"No tricks, either. I'm your manager, now, remember?" he was only half-joking, looking at her with a straight face and a cocked brow as he stood beside her.
 
She eyed him as she slid her phone over, one brow lifting. "I've never had one of my managers do what you just did to me, so..."

Unlocking her phone with face recognition, she laid it flat on the counter, having forgotten how much she missed having it in her hand. She didn't have any social media alerts because she'd disabled those long ago, otherwise she'd be inundated with notifications every second of every day. What she did have were two dozen missed calls, countless voice mails, and at least twice that in text messages from her ex-boyfriend. Growling, she went through the motions to block him so that she wouldn't have to see them any longer.

"Fucking asshole," she muttered.

Swiping to the delivery app before she could get distracted, she pulled up the listing for the pizza place and started an online order. "I'm getting all of the meats. That good with you? I'm starving. And some damn cheesy breadsticks, too. Wings? Hmm... no, too late for those, I think. They're shit here, anyway." With a few clicks in the app, she sent the order on its way and swiped off.

Sighing, she turned her attention back to business. A frown creased her forehead as she threw him a glance. "I'm going to have to talk to my father tomorrow. A text will suffice for now, but he's already texted me and tried to call once. He probably found out what happened and wants to check on me. My manager... my real manager...," she smiled slyly, "wants to talk, also, and I still need to call my assistant. Tomorrow, though."

Opening one of her texts from 'Papa', she pushed the 'mic' button so she wouldn't have him reading over her shoulder. However, she did let loose in a string of Spanish, some of it very heated as she recounted the events that led to her leaving Brandon in the lurch. As she paused, she shot him a look. "I never asked if you understand Spanish. You need me to translate before I send?" From her expression, she found the situation humorous.
 
"I'm sorry, are you complaining?" He asked tauntingly. "'Cause way I see it, pretty sure that should make me the best damn manager you ever had."

She'd made it easy for him to watch over what she was doing by laying her phone on the counter between them, which also meant he was able to clearly seeing her ex's name popping up dozens of times as she scrolled through her notifications. He was not surprised in the least to see her immediately block him either. He shot a knowing glance her way as he happened to catch sight of it. "Hmph...I wonder what he would think if he knew you just got finished having your pussy eaten by a different man, already." he couldn't resist the smirk that crossed his lips at the thought. "Probably piss him off big time, don't ya think?"

He had no objections to her selections for food. He was one who really wasn't picky in the first place, and could enjoy just about anything when it came to food. He'd never met a pizza nor breadsticks that he did not enjoy. Well, except maybe the ones with fuckin' pineapple.

He was far more intent on making sure that she was not taking advantage of having her phone, than anything else, at that moment. Seemingly, she had no intention of doing so, though. In fact, that little smile that he spotted upon her face almost seemed to imply that she was somewhat content with her situation, at least for the evening. Maybe a good, hard cum really does fix everything, after all.

"Tomorrow." he agreed with her. From the looks of things, he'd still made the right decision in allowing her to tend to her business now, rather than later, however; especially as it related to her father. He could deduce from her tone of voice and from the names she spoke what it was she was talking about even before she'd bother to ask him. As her gaze sought him out, he scoffed slightly. "I know enough to know that you couldn't have been talking about me..." he noted, "but hey, just for the hell of it, feel free to tell me, anyway."
 
She couldn't help but smirk at the thought of what they'd just done and what her ex-boyfriend would have thought if he'd caught them at it. That gave her even more ideas as she met Brian's gaze, eyes dipping a bit lower as she considered the possibilities. It was already obvious that he wanted to fuck her. If a man was willing to bury his face in your cunt until you came, he most definitely wanted to feel you bouncing on his cock.

Glancing to her text message, she wrinkled her nose. "You already know what it says, so I'm not reading it word for word. Basically, I told him about that piece of shit and how things ended, but that I was fine, and that I'd call him tomorrow to check on him and Mama." She had no wish to recount every word of her text or even say the words aloud. "All he texted me was that he heard something went down and wanted to make sure I was okay. And also, if Brandon had hurt me in any way, he was going to have someone track him down and cut off his balls."

She grinned wickedly at that as she turned off her phone and spun it about on the counter. Pushing off, she returned to the fridge, the hem of her shirt riding up the curve of her ass as she bent to fetch a bottle from the freezer. She came up with a chilled bottle of tequila and shook it at him. "You want a drink? I'm thirsty for a margarita."
 
That was about what he had expected, from the bits and pieces he'd caught while listening in on her. He didn't bother pressing her for any specifics. She'd already told him everything she'd tell her father - and then some - anyways. "Well, depending on how things go, you might already have your own personal 'someone' to track him down and make him pay for what he did." He chortled, looking her up and down in much the same fashion. "Negotiations pending, of course..."

Naturally, he followed her with his eyes all the way to fridge, fixating upon her ass at the first chance he got. Christ...he thought to himself. I just fucking came down her throat 10 minutes ago. You're already looking for round two?

But tequila didn't sound half bad, either. He looked at the bottle in her hand and then right back up to her, shrugging. "Of course you have the real good, expensive, top shelf shit." He remarked. That appeared to be her modus operandi in all facets, so far as he'd seen. This, though, he didn't mind at all. She might just have had as much an appetite for alcohol as himself. One thing they did seem to share in common. "Alright, show me what you got bartender. Serve 'em up."
 
She threw him a sidelong glance as she began to retrieve everything she'd need. "At some point you're going to have to get over the fact that I've got money and enjoy nice things. Why would I buy cheap shit that tastes like shit when I can afford better? I know it isn't the money. I bet you're getting paid a shit ton of it to do what you do. Is it because I was born rich and have been handed things all my life? I've been dealing with that particular bias for as long as I can remember."

Besides the tequila, she added a bottle of Cointreau, agave syrup, and fresh limes to the counter. When she pulled one of her knives from the block near the wall, she glanced at it an then at him, brow lifting speculatively. Letting the thought pass, she began cut the lime in half and squeezed it into the shaker of ice, along with all of her other ingredients. She didn't measure, she just poured by eye, making enough for a single drink. There were no fancy flips or flares, but she looked like she knew what she was doing.

Grabbing one of the glasses, she rubbed the rim with one of the left over lime wedges to wet it and dipped it into the tub of margarita salt, repeating the process with the other glass. After adding ice, she filled one with the shaken margarita blend, garnished with a lime wedge, and pushed it his way. While he indulged, she made herself one as well, eyeing him while she did so.

"What do you think? I badgered my father's bar tender until he taught me a few things so that I'll know a shit mixologist from a good one."
 
Truthfully, he didn't have an answer for her. A raised eyebrow and an almost dismissive gaze were all he had to offer up in response. She wasn't incorrect in her assessment; while he could never hope to have anything close to what she did, his particular line of work did not exactly lend itself to a meager salary. As he found out rather quickly, There are quite a few people in this world willing to pay out of their asses to rid themselves of the living, breathing problems in their lives. The big-time jobs like these? Well, suffice it to say, the sort of money it offered was enough to make even the purest of souls consider the offer. And his own was far from pure.

Watching her as she pieced together all the ingredients, that look she'd given him with knife in hand did not elude him. All it earned her, though, was a stare in return that seemed to say 'Don't even think about it.' more clearly than words ever could. He knew that she wouldn't, though. Not if she had any common sense, which the last couple of days seemed to suggest that she did.

"Mmm.." he muttered out as he took a sip from the glass. "Not half bad. Pretty god damn good, actually....better than the shitty drinks that bartender was making me earlier." possibly the only thing he didn't like about it was the fact that its strong flavor quickly washed away the taste of her that had still lingered upon his lips and the tip of his tongue.

"So what do you do all day, anyway?" he asked her offhandedly as he continued to observe her making her own drink. "When you're not taking pictures or off on vacations."
 
A hint of a smile was all she gave him to acknowledge the compliment of her drink. She finished making her own and then leaned on the counter to drink it. Her tongue licked away a bit of salt before she took her first drink. Pleased with the outcome, she licked her lips.

"Hmmm? Oh, I suppose you would call it networking. Planning. Idea sessions. When you're in the public eye, every little thing you do is scrutinized. All of my photos are, too. You have no idea how many social media influencers fake their photos or use photoshop in some manner, and then get called out on it. So a lot of what we do is brainstorming what we have, what we're going to do with it, how it might be perceived, and what we're going to need. I've got plenty of content, but it's all about rolling it out at the right times. I'm in meetings about brand deals, people that want me to sponsor their items, and those that want to send me stuff in hopes that I'll recommend their product to my followers."

She ticked items off on her fingers as she went and the number kept growing. "There's advertising, both for myself and the brand I'm trying to create, commercial opportunities, billboards, and other marketing. Research and development. Product launches. Photographer interviews. Location scouting."

"I have a team that handles a lot of what I do, but I still have to be present for most of the meetings, whether they're conference calls, video chats, or in person meetings. Oh, and also taking pictures and haring off on vacations." Her lips twitched in amusement, but she covered by taking another drink.

"What do you do when you're not, you know, killing people or holding women hostage?"
 
Of course he knew good and well that he'd been intentionally oversimplifying what is what that she did, to some extent. At its core, that had been all he'd considered it to be. The way she's describing it, though, he pondered, it almost sounds like a real job...almost.

"So basically, sex sells, and your particular brand of sex has got companies falling all over themselves trying to convince you to advertise their products to the people who spend all their time following you?" He inquired. "Hmm...I guess maybe there's a little more to it than I thought." It was a relatively small acquiescence, one that he seemed almost hesitant of, sipping his drink in response.

"The hostages I take are rarely women, and they aren't typically as fun to deal with as you, either." He smirked subtly. "My contracts aren't all the same. And it isn't quite as simple as just killing someone. There are days, weeks of planning behind every job. Think about it. Why am I here in the first place? Gathering information on the people I'm tracking. Figuring out their patterns. Their routines. Every little nuance and subtlety of their daily lives. That in and of itself requires an immense amount of vetting and research. Not to mention, someone gets killed, especially someone real important, and all sorts of investigations get set off. Even worse if those people just disappear, because then people hold onto some half-baked hope that they're still alive. So I have to make sure I cover my tracks every step along the way. Make sure I leave no traces of my existence anywhere around them. Tie up all loose ends..."

His eyes flickered downward, studying her briefly.

"You'd be surprised how many people want someone dead..." he paused, stopping himself. "Well, okay, maybe you wouldn't be....but people hire me for a reason. Someone hires a hitman, and that hitman does something stupid to get themselves caught, and it's likely that they won't be far behind. Me? I don't cut corners. I don't get caught. Which means they dont get caught."
 
One of her eyebrows lifted upward. "I suppose that makes me one of your loose ends?" Of course she'd already had that thought, but it needed to be said. "Or does our potential deal negate that possibility? If I hire you to do my dirty work, then I'm no longer an obstacle to eliminate, right?"

She wasn't going to flatter herself by saying that there'd be a big uproar if she was found murdered. Of course there would be, but the story would run through the news cycle and then die off, and her followers would make do with a memorialized page on Instagram and comfort themselves by adding keepsakes to a small shrine in front of her building for a week or so.

It also didn't escape her that her life hinged on his answer. He could tell her the truth right then, tell her that it wouldn't matter, and he'd be denying himself the pleasure of her company. Or he could lie, tell her what she wanted to know, and then deal with her when it was convenient. Or, perhaps, he'd actually take her deal and let her live by way of some twisted honor code among assassinkind.

She didn't need to pose or flirt with him. He'd seen what she had to offer and knew what lay beneath the thin clothing she wore. So she didn't push her breasts together or lick her lips or even throw him a coy glance. The usual methods wouldn't work on him, anyhow, and he'd recognize the shallowness of those acts. In Sofia's opinion, her one chance was to be sincere and hope that he'd give her the truth in return.
 
He set his glass down upon the counter and straightened up his back, examining her more closely. He'd expected that question to come, sooner or later. The answer, on the other hand, was a matter all its own. Indeed, he could have told her something to make her feel better, to give her incentive to seal their previously discussed deal. Likewise, he could conversely have told her something to instill further worry in her heart, to push her to be more compliant to him for fear of death. At that particular moment, though, he was feeling just a fraction more open to discussing his real thoughts on the matter.

"Truth be told, darling," he started. "This arrangement is something I've never had to deal with, before. It isn't the way I operate. Under normal circumstances, you'd already be gone. Because normally, if I were set up somewhere, no matter how long I'd spent vetting it, and someone showed up, they'd be taken hostage and disposed of before the day was done, that location left abandoned. The job would be compromised otherwise. But your status, and your bloodline, along with the fact that I need your apartment, make my usual methods impossible..."

"None of that changes the fact, though, that you'd still be walking around as one of the only people on this Earth with knowledge of what I look like, who I am, and what I do. And that's a fuckin' dangerous combination. The only others with such knowledge are those who've paid me so much money and have so many direct ties to my work that the justice system would bury them beneath the prison right alongside me if I was ever to be caught...So what choices does that leave me?" he asked her the question he'd been silently thinking for days, and then answered it aloud.

"I don't know...I can't guarantee you anything. Your little plan, of hiring me to do some damage to your ex? It's clever. I've got to give you that. So clever it just might work. But on the other hand, it ain't a hired kill. And it ain't really the same. Hell, someone with your money, and your connections, you could probably get off with a slap on the wrist for something like that; like a heartbroken girl getting her big brother to beat the shit out of her cheating ex... All you would have to do is convince them that you had no idea of any of the other business I've conducted. That's where my conflict lies."

"That being said, I'm not going to sit here and bullshit you, either. It would give me a hell of a lot more reason to believe you could be left alive than I currently have. And I'm not just saying that because I want your cunt." Although, that doesn't exactly hurt your case either.

That last sentiment may have been internal, but the slight shift of his eyes may have vaguely alluded to it, regardless.
 
It wasn't the answer she wanted, but it wasn't a complete surprise. She took another drink, staring at him in open speculation, before finally sighing. "Ah, well. I guess I still have a few more days while you do your business, right? A few more days to live this charmed life and try to fuck you into changing your mind, maybe."

Her lips thinned, slight quirk tugging at one corner of her mouth. "I bet that wouldn't matter to a man like you, though, would it? Have you ever had to kill a woman you'd fucked? Or did you fuck her so you could get close enough to kill her?"

All valid questions in her opinion, though she wasn't sure how truthful he'd be. If he was trying to scare her, he'd just given her enough ammunition to do so. By all accounts, she should be petrified, but that fear had faded the moment she'd caught him stroking to herself to her fully clothed body. Perhaps that was a tiny sliver of power she had over him. Or perhaps just a sliver of influence. But the fact that he'd admitted that he wanted to fuck her, that he'd just buried his face in her snatch, made her believe that it could possibly grow into something a bit more.

As if to put that sentiment on hold, the doorbell rang and was followed by a light rap on the door itself. Sofia's nose wrinkled. "Isn't one or the other enough? I hate it when they do that."

"I'm going to the get the pizza. Are you going to be chill or you want to stand behind me with a knife to my throat?" She didn't really wait for an answer. Fingertips slipping off the glass now thick with condensation, she circled the island.

"While we eat, we could always watch a show? Dexter? No... no, he's a serial killer. That's different. Oh! The Professional. I bet you like that one, don't you? Wanted? Ooh, I bet you're a huge John Wick fan, too." Clearly teasing, she threw him a glance over her shoulder as she headed for the door.
 
"Funny how you continue to talk about fucking me, and yet we have yet to even shake on a deal, as of yet." he chuffed, pointing out what may well have been her own Freudian slip of the tongue. Though the direction in which their most recent interactions had gone lent itself to an all but foregone conclusion.

He did, however, appear to become a bit flustered at her second series of questions. "I've had to kill all sorts of people for all sorts of reasons..." he said bluntly, expression mostly stoic, enough so to make it clear he was not particularly interested in answering that question in-depth, for one reason or another. "...A sexy body and a good pussy hasn't saved any of them."

The doorbell forced his attention for a fraction of a second before he'd recalled what it was they'd been waiting on. From where he was he could hear most any interaction that would take place in the entryway, anyway, and he had a strong feeling she knew that as well. So it came as no surprise when he simply scoffed at her notion, following her with his ever-piercing gaze as she walked past him, but little more.

"What a bitch..." he mumbled mockingly beneath his breath just as she fell out of earshot. Dexter? John Wick? Really? He hid the half-cocked grin at his lips by turning his focus back to his drink, taking another long sip and licking a bit of extra salt from the rim. Ooooh if only you knew, he thought to himself.

He grabbed his glass and moved into the living room, staying out of the line of sight from the front door, though the fleeting image of his presence would not matter in the slightest to some underpaid pizza-boy, regardless. Still, as he took a seat in one of her lavish, comfortable armchairs, he kept an ear out, listening to the interactions between them as he awaited her return.
 
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