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Why Does the Caged Bird Sing? (Corsair and Xana)

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“Nuh-uh,” Marilyn growled, gripping his hair with leather-clad fingers and biting at his throat. She clenched muscles, gasping at the thick heat of his cock as she dragged herself up his length. “You love me fucking this dick, don’t you?” She gasped out as he pulled her back down, filling her completely. “You... you love me... using this... this cock.. as a... as a... fuck toy.”

Now it was his teeth gripping her throat, a sharp stinging sensation that paired with the building pleasure of his cock stretching her out. She rolled her hips, grinding her clit in his iron length, sliding her body over the hard muscles of his chest. “Cum for me,” he repeated between nips on her throat. “Cum for me.”

“Fuck,” she gasped, gloved hands sliding over his back as she moved on his length. “Oh... oh fuck...”. Her breath came faster as she felt her orgasm building. “Don’t... don’t you... fucking cum...” she growled, fisting her hands in his hair and taking his mouth with her lips and tongue. “Don’t you... fucking cum...” she repeated, straining her thighs to stroke up his shaft once more. “You... you’re going to... to get me off twice... before you cum..,”. She stared into his eyes, biting her lip against her moans of pleasure. “You understand?”

The sly, hungry look of agreement was all it took. Marilyn cried out as pleasure erupted through her, arching her back and driving herself back down his length. She gripped his shoulders for leverage, taking him as deep as she could, whimpering and blaspheming in ecstasy. Finally, chest heaving, she stared him in the eye. “Well?” She challenged. “You going to fuck me hard or what?”
 
Valentino groaned with Marilyn, groaned as her orgasm rippled over his aching shaft. Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood was all that kept him from following her over the edge of ecstasy. Well, that and the promise of making her cum again. Fuck, but that slippery, silken vice felt fucking amazing on his cock. And the sight of her? Glistening with sweat and offering him a taste of those perky, high tits? Damn near too fucking much.

Finally, chest heaving, she stared him in the eye. “Well?” She challenged. “You going to fuck me hard or what?”

“Sure thing, Doll,” he panted, taking just a second to catch his breath and steel his resolve. He was fucking close, but he refused to give in.

So instead, he leaned forward and gravity toppled them over. Marilyn, back on the mattress and him atop her. The momentum drove him even deeper inside her, and the resulting clench of her smooth muscles almost did him in. It took another deep thrust to get up on his knees.

“This hard enough for ya?” he asked, grinding his hips against hers with his entire length buried in her. “I hope not…” One hand tangled in her hair, pulling her lips to his, and the gripped a thigh, holding her legs around his waist. Each stoke bottomed out in her, demanding all she could give him, all she could take. Wanting even more of her, more of her scorching, slick heat and the sting of nails in his back. Springs squealed with his movements, driving Marilyn into the mattress.

Rising up over her, Valentino grinned wickedly. Then he grabbed both of her legs, just under the knee, and pushed them together. Fuck, she was even tighter like this, and he had to fuck even harder to fit his length into her. “You…like that?” he growled, skin slapping skin as he pounded himself into her. “You like taking… all this cock?” He was getting loud, he knew. Loud enough he was glad his sister and her brother had taken off. “Imma… make you… like it.” Fingers dug into her legs, knuckles white with the effort of holding back.

Finally, when the moist fist gripping his dick was too much to bear, her roared out her name, and sprayed his pleasure deep within. His back jerked and spasmed with each spurt. “Marilyn… oh Christ, Marilyn…”
 
Marilyn gasped as her back hit the mattress, both from the impact and from the way Valentino’s cock pushed even deeper into her. “God,” she groaned, then gasped as he pushed up on his knees and drove deep into her. “Oh, oh God.”

His tongue filled her mouth, mimicking the hard, hungry thrusts into her core. His hands were all over her, sliding over her skin, pulling him right into her. She writhed beneath him, gloved hands digging into the muscles of his back, helpless to do anything but gasp out incoherent cries of pleasure.

You…like that?” he growled, skin slapping skin as he pounded himself into her.

“Yes,” she moaned, clenching around him, trying to hold him tight within her. He pulled back anyway, friction building an agonizing pleasure as he slammed back into her.

“You like taking… all this cock?”

Her response was a wordless sound of assent. Her hands slipped from his shoulders as her back arched in a desperate effort to take more of him. “God... yes...” she moaned, cupping her breasts with gloved fingers as he drove into her again.

He was getting loud now, his words coming out in explosive grunts as he fucked her. “Imma… make you… like it.”

“Make... make me...” she begged, watching him watch her play with her nipples. “Make... me...” She felt and saw him cum, felt his cock pulsing as he pounded into her, and the feel of his cum flooding her sent her over the edge once more. She arched beneath him, pleasure blazing along her nerves as she cried out with ecstasy.

When it was over, when he had collapsed onto the bed beside her, she stretched lazily. Every muscle in her body aches from the strain, aches in a pleasant way that left her sated. “Not bad,” she purred, running a leather sheathed finger over his chest, following the path with her lips. “But you distinctly came before I did.”

She slid lower, kissing her way down the hard planes of his abdomen. “So, I think you owe me something,” she continued, feeling their combined juices streak her stomach and breasts as she slid between his legs. His cock was still semi-hard, glistening with their orgasms. Her gloved hand gripped it, staining the black leather as she stroked it. “But I need you hard again, first.”

She pumped lightly, taking his head in her mouth and swirling her tongue over the smooth skin. The combined flavor made heat swirl in her stomach. “Can you get hard for me?” she breathed with a grin, watching his face as she teased his opening with her tongue. “Think you can get this dick hard enough to fuck me again?”

With that she wrapped her lips around his head. Then, still watching him, she slowly took his shaft until her lips met her gloved hand.
 
“But you distinctly came before I did.”

“You were too fucking good, Doll.” Damn, he really could have gone for a cigarette and a nap. The maybe around round with Marilyn. See if she didn’t like it from behind, with that tight ass up in the air…

Her hand drew close to his cock, and the heat of her nearness was enough to make his jerk his hips. Fuck, but he was still sensitive, still throbbing from his climax, and now even the slightest
touch was overwhelming in its intensity.

“Think you can get this dick hard enough to fuck me again?”

“Hell yeah, doll,” he groaned, flexing his shaft as it swelled once more. Maybe he didn’t need a nap. Not if she were this hungry for more cock. Hunger she displayed with lips wrapped around the head. Her mouth was a hot, moist sleeve, intoxicating as she took him deeper and deeper. “Damn, you have a sweet mouth, too…” He matched her movements, hips bucking up to meet her lips.

“Sure you don’t want me to fuck it?” His hips moved faster, harder, pumping that sweet mouth even deeper. “I could find out if that throat is as tight as your cunt...” Bliss grew, built, tightening in heavy balls and aching in his gut.

“Or maybe not.” He growled, dragging her mouth to his for a fierce kiss. She tasted of him, of them, and his throbbing turned painful. “I like hearing you cry out and moan. I want to hear you scream my name, this time.”
 
Marilyn fairly purred as his hips bucked and his dick slid in and out of his mouth, making her black glove glisten with her saliva. She ran her tongue up and down his length and then sucked his head, squeezing his shaft and cupping his balls. Heat pooled in her stomach and croch as she did, imagining his cum flooding her mouth as scorching filth dripped from his lips.

But then strong arms caught her shoulders, dragging her up the hard length of his body. It was an aggressive move, and terror shot through her for an instant. She’d done a lot , but she’d never let anyone manhandle her in bed. Not since...

A strong, slippery tongue filled her mouth and she fisted her gloved hands in his hair, feasting on him. Struggling for control, for dominance. But he pulled away, strong hands grinding her soaked slit against the hot bar of his dick. “I like hearing you cry out and moan,” he breathed, teeth hard and sharp on her jaw as his fingers dig into her skin. “I want to hear you scream my name, this time.”

She arched against him, small breasts rubbing against his broad chest, clit sliding over his length. “Big talk,” she breathed, tasiting the sweat on his chin before biting his lip. She tugged firmly, then slipped her tongue into his mouth so he could taste more of himself. She moaned as she ground herself in him again. “Think you can back it up?”
 
Marilyn fought him for control, and Valentino imagined her in the Raven costume Imagined having her half out of her armor and coat, on the hard floor of a warehouse. Wringing cries of pleasure from her throat under the moonlight while the heated barrel of a revolver prodded his side. His cock twitched, throbbed, and it took all his willpower not to shoot his seed across her belly and thighs.

The muscles in his arm bulged as he lifted her, and his cock twitched in anticipation. She was still so wet, dripping with lust and his cum, and he groaned aloud as that slippery slit slid down his shaft. “Fuck yeah, doll. Imma make you feel me all day. Imma make you feel me all night.” Fingers dug into her ass as he lifted, bruising as he dragging her up and then down his length once again. Building his momentum until the slick friction enveloping his cock was too much.

He fucked her to the rhythm set by his pounding heart, echoing the blood pounding and pulsing in his cock. The angling wasn’t great, but gravity assisted, drawing her back down each time he lifted her. It might have been easier to keep up his pace if he leaned back, but then he’d missed the pressure of her breasted flattened against him, or the sting of her nails in back. And that was unacceptable.

“Fuck, oh fuck… so hot… and tight…” Heaving breaths stole his words, so he settled on kissing her, fucking her with his tongue. Muscles in his thighs ached with each thrust, but he could drown out the burning protests with her cries and moans. Inspiring him to go faster, harder, to fuck deeper and feel more of her. “Marilyn… God Marilyn. Scream for me… cum…”
 
Fuck. God-fucking-damn if he didn’t feel even better the second time his thick cock stretched her open. Still sensitive and a little sore from him already, she didn’t even try to hide the moan of pleasure that escaped her as she sank down his length. “Fuck yeah, doll,” he moaned as he gripped her hips, moving her up and down his shaft. “Imma make you feel me all day.” She gasped aloud, the leather of her gloves slipping over his chest. “Imma make you feel me all night.”

“Promises,” she gasped out, gripping his shoulders and luxuriating in the feel of the hard muscles rolling beneath his skin. “Promises.” She clenched inner muscles, gripping his cock tight as he dragged her up and down him again. The feel of his chest, broad and hard and slick with sweat, sliding against her aching breasts, drew another moan from her.

“Fuck, oh fuck… so hot… and tight…” he gasped out, before filling her mouth with his tongue. She sucked at the slippery muscle eagerly, jaw aching as she opened wider, taking more of him. Her leather-sheathed fists bunched in his hair, dragging him tighter, taking his tongue the same way she was taking his dick. He responded by thrusting harder, lifting her knees from the mattress, impaling her on his iron meat. Her back arched and her head rolled back, sliding ncoherent cries erupting from her as pleasure built. “Marilyn… God Marilyn. Scream for me… cum…”

Her core tightened around him as she climaxed, a sharp cry of ecstasy echoing off the walls of the room. She clung to him, blind and hungry, helpless to mow or breathe or do anything but ride the storm of pleasure that washed through her. When it subsided she stared at him through heavy, lust-dark eyes. “Not... not bad...” she purred, squeezing the thick meat still buried in her. “But... you still... need to...” she gasped as he pulled against her walls. “Need to... get me off... again...”

Legs and back shaking, she gasped as she lifted off him. His cock jutted upwards, thick and dark and slick with her juices. Licking her lips, she squeezed it with her hand as she kissed him hungrily. Then she turned and gripped the footboard of her bed, arching her back to give him a good view of her ass. “Think... you can... get me off again?” she asked, looking at him over her shoulder. “Think you can make me cum, while you empty that dick into me?” A gloved hand, shining with her juices, slid between her thighs and she moaned as the leather stroked over her clit. “Or do I have to take care of myself?”
 
The grip of Marilyn’s slit on his cock was maddening, tempting him to follow her down into bliss.All that help Valentino back from cumming himself was his recent orgasm, and biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Marilyn was god-damn amazing, and he couldn’t get enough of her.

Which was why it was a disappointment when she climbed off him. Fuck, but he wanted more of her. Needed more of her, need he poured into a hungry kiss. But she had her own plans, sliding that delicious body against his until her ass was in his face, and her head was near his cock again.

“Think you can make me cum, while you empty that dick into me?” A gloved hand, shining with her juices, slid between her thighs and she moaned as the leather stroked over her clit. “Or do I have to take care of myself?”

“I got you. I want to taste you as you cum on my mouth.” Her cunt still glistened with his cum, and the sight made him throb and twitch. Two fingers spread her lips apart, and he ran his tongue from the length of her slit up to her perineum and finally circled the tight bud of her ass. “You taste incredible, doll.”

His tongue pushed into her tight channel, muscles clenching delightfully around him. Her moan were even more intoxicating, encouraging him to explore her deeply. Her moans died away as she wrapped lips around his cock, but he certainly couldn’t complain. Instead, he moaned into her cunt, and bucked his hips to offer her more of his aching cock.

One finger replaced his tongue inside her, slow, deep strokes that he hoped would drive her wild. Not that he intended to rely on hope, turning his attention for her stiff clit. Alternating between licking and sucking, and even biting every now and then, he let her cries and the grip of smooth muscles guide his motions.
 
To be honest, she had hoped he would grab her hips and fuck her hard and deep from behind. But, it was hard to argue with the shudderingly delicious feel of his tongue exploring and filling her. Her back arched as a finger joined the tongue, and it was all she could do not to just beg to be fucked.

Instead she swallowed his thick meat, swirling her tongue around the hard length and savoring the taste of her cum and his clinging to him. Relaxing her throat, she let his head strain against her tonsils. His tongue drew a strangled moan from her, and she let it massage his length as she sucked hard. Then she bobbed her head up and down, cupping and gently squeezing his testicles with a gloved hand in time with her movements.

There was a soft pop as she let him escape her throat. “Fuck, you taste good,” she moaned, pushing her ass back so his tongue could push deeper into her. “Wanna cum in my mouth?” she teased, gently nipping at the velvet skin of his shaft. “Want to feel me swallowing your cum?” Her gloved hand gripped his spit-slick shaft, brushing his head against the valley between her breasts as she stroked him. “Or maybe you wanna cum like this? See how these tits look, covered with cum?”

She arched her back, moaning as his tongue tormented her pussy. “Be a waste, though,” she purred, circling his head with her thumb. “I want you fucking this cum into me.” Her tongue joined the circling. “I want you pounding into me, fucking your cum deep into me.”
 
Valentino felt like an idiot. Or perhaps he’d been too distracted by the sight of that glistening pussy to think with the right –wrong– head. It was even harder to think straight now, with her talented mouth wrapped around his cock, and it would have been impossible to figure out what she wanted if she hadn’t laid it out in delicious filthy terms.

But now that she had? There was no way he way he’d deny her. Though… did she know that. So, with one hand holding her hips in place, he shimmied out from underneath her, and slapped her ass when she tried to escape his grasp.

“That’s a filthy fucking mouth you got there. Did you suck that filth from my cock?” He smacked her firm ass again, hard enough his hand hurt. Leaning in closer, his length brushed against her dripping lips and engorged clit.

“Must want it bad, don’t you? Must want this cum real bad.” His chest molded to her back, and he squeezed her high, perky tits with both hands. Lifting her off her hands, his teeth found her neck, right where it met her shoulder, and bit. Hard. Hard enough to leave his mark on her, teasing her and himself by grinding his throbbing cock over her soaking lips. Then, when the sting of his teeth on her skin was too much ecstasy to bear, He angled his cock to thrust into her, and claim her in a single stroke.

“Fuck!” he crowed, head thrown back as her walls gripped him. It took all his willpower not to fuck her then, nails digging into her skin as he remained sheathed inside her. Her cunt was sultry torment on him and her skin a silken flame. “Beg me,” he husked, withdrawing halfway ever so slowly, just to slam back into her once more. “Beg me to cum in your pussy.”
 
Marilyn nearly sobbed with relief as his cock filled her, the contours of his length tormenting her overly sensitive walls. “Oh... oh fuck...” she whimpered, trying to push back into him, wanting him even deeper. His nails dig into her skin as he held her still, bright stinging sensations echoing the ache on her ass and shoulder, highlighting his shaft. “Beg me,” he husked, withdrawing halfway ever so slowly.

“Puh... plea..”. The word broke off in a strangled cry as he drove into her, sending her half over the headboard. Then he repeated the movement, slowly withdrawing once more, dragging his length over her sensitive inner walls.

“Beg me to cum in your pussy,” he busked, slamming into her again.

“Please,” she whimpered, hanging onto the headboard for dear life. “Oh, oh please.” Biting her lip, she angled her hips slightly and was rewarded by the maddening delight of his shaft stroking over her clit. “Please... fuck me...”. Another thrust drove air from her lungs. “Fuck me...” she moaned. “Fucking... fucking fill...”

She rocked forward on another thrust, crying out and clenching around him. Her shoulders flexed as she pushed back, rocking her body to meet him as he pounded into her, fucking him back as he fucked her. “God... fuck me...” she moaned. “Cum... cum in... cum in me...”. Clenching internal muscles, she strained to hold him in place as he withdrew. “Fucking... fucking fill my... fill my pussy... with cum...”

His hands were n her again, hit and hard on her breasts and belly as he drove into her. “Fuck me hard...” she begged, gripping the hand on her tit. “Fuck... I want... I want... cum...”. Words dissolved into a agonized cry of pleasure as she climaxed, her voice a strangled sound as pleasure burned through her nerves.
 
Marilyn’s orgasm was agonizing ecstasy, soft, smooth muscles squeezing him almost too hard. His hips battered her ass, refusing to stop his frantic momentum as long as her body quivered for her. But even if he wanted to keep going, his pleasure seizing him, capturing him in the wet grip of her cunt on his cock until she was practically squeezing the cum from his cock. With a wordless cry, he drove his full length into her, grasping her hips for dear life until he spilled every last drop inside her.

“Oh God, Marilyn…”



Mercy Leaned into William’s chest, and closed her eyes. She wasn’t going to fall asleep like this, but God, didn’t that sound nice?

The front door to the club opened, and Mercy jerked upright. Who the hell was that? Her band wouldn’t be here for at least an hour or two.

Laughter, and the click of glasses on wood narrowed down the mystery, and she even began picking out a couple voices. Vinnie was out there, with a handful of his top lieutenants. But why?

That answer would have to wait, as she jumped off Will’s lap and bundled his discarded clothes. She urged those into his arms, and urged him into her wardrobe. After a second’s hesistation, she pressed her gun into his hand as well. If he was at risk of being discovered, at least he could defend himself. And she knew how good he was with a gun.

“Mercy! Mercy, where are you?” Vinnie called. Not angry, so far as she could tell, but drunk, which could be just as bad. Drunk pivoted to angry on the turn of a dime, but it also pivoted to handsy or horny just as easily. And if Vinnie got handsy enough to discover Will’s scent on and in her, anger would follow close behind. “Mercy!”

She had just enough time to throw her dress back on –no undergarments, though– before Vinnie burst through the door. “Mercy! What are you, what were you doing?”

“Jesus, Vinnie, can you knock? I was trying on dresses for tonight.” The excuse seemed to work as she fixed the sleeves of her dress, and smoothed back her hair.

Vinnie laughed, “Ah hell, doll, I could tell what to wear tonight.” He lumbered towards her, putting more weight on his injured leg than he could just days before. He pinned her against her vanity, hands on her hips and his alcohol scented breath sticking against her face. “Though, I think you look best in nothing at all…”

“What are you doing here, anyways?” she asked, looking down to avoid the kiss he came in for. Didn’t stop him from grinding up against her.

“Meetin’ with Eyeball. He thinks we can take out Capone, and split up his territory, and I think it’s a primo idea. If it’s on the level, that is.” He pushed his knee between her thighs, shaking the vanity as she struggled against him. “But fuck, doll, you make it hard for me to think business about now.”

She squirmed, trying to keep him from brushed up against her cunt, and discovering warm and moist with another man’s seed. “Shouldn’t you go out there, then? Don’t wanna keep him waitin’”

“Shit, he ain’t gonna be on time. Fucking Eyeball Randall ain’t ever on time.” Vinnie spun her around, forcing her to brace against the vanity with her hands, and meeting her gaze in the mirror. “Besides, maybe I wanna make you scream for me. Like you did that one night. Make you scream so everybody can hear it.”

“I dun wanna scream in front of everybody,” she whimpered, trembling as memories of that night bubbled up. She didn’t want to cry, not in front of Will. She doubted he’d let it get much further than that, not while he held a gun in his hand, but could they make it out of here alive? Losing Vinnie wasn’t worth it if she lost Will as well.

“Eh Vinnie, they’re here!” some mook called from the bar. Vinnie didn’t answer, didn’t move, just leered at her in the mirror and ground his hard cock against her ass through his slacks.

It was the longest moment of her life, fearing the next moment and the next, until Vinnie Laughed, and slapped her ass hard enough to make her yelp. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” The door closed behind him, and she sank to the floor, holding back her tears and bile.
 
Will held his breath, and the bundle of clothes he hadn’t been able to put back on, and the heavy automatic in his right hand. The thunder of his heart seemed to drown everything out, and yet he could clearly hear everything outside the wardrobe. Clearly hear Enforcer Malone, as he leered and pawed over Mercy.

He tensed, listening to her plead. Tensed, listening to the thug’s laughter. Maybe Marilyn was right. Maybe he should just put a bullet in the man. Put all the bullets in him. If he touched Mercy, then...

The door slammed shut. All he could hear was Mercy, moving slightly. Cracking the door, he saw her on her knees in the middle of the dressing room, fighting for control. In a moment he was beside her, arms wrapped around her. “Let’s go,” he whispered. “Let’s get out of here. Now.”

His eyes shifted to the door, and then he kissed her. “Let him look. He won’t know where to start. And it’ll keep him distracted, Cody him his focus as the Raven and the Nightengale burn his world down around him.”
 
“Okay,” Mercedes finally responded, wiping away her tears. She couldn’t spend another night at Vinnie’s side, and she couldn’t spend another night away from Will. “Okay, I’ll go with you. But there is something I have to do first.”

Before they could even get to that, Will had to get dressed. Which gave her just enough time to pull all her outfits form her wardrobe and toss them in a trunk. They weren’t all practical for daily wear, but it was all the clothes she would be able to bring with her.

With her gun at her side, Mercedes watched the hallway that lead towards the main room, where Vinnie was meeting with Randall. Will carried the trunk, and sneaked out the back door. Once more, her resolve wavered, nausea clawing its way up her throat, but she swallowed it down. She could flee the Cage, with Will. She could be free, and run farther than Vinnie could reach. She turned, and it took all her will power not to run down the hall.

The next stop was her ma’s place, because Vinnie would hurt whoever he could just to find her. She’d never be able to hide with Will if she worried about her mother. But even as she knocked, she had no idea how she’d convince her mother to come along.

Her mother smiled at she opened the door, but looked up at Will with concern in her eyes. "Chi è l'uomo?" “Who’s the man?”

"È un amico, William Stone." “He’s a friend, William Stone.”

"Un amico?" “A friend?” Her mother raised an eyebrow, as if she could tell they’d been carrying on an affair.

"È ... è il fratello di Marilyn." “He’s… He’s Marilyn’s brother.”

“Oh!” Damiana’s face lit up, and she afforded Will a smile. “Mi piace Marilyn. E se sei un fratello intelligente, piacerà anche a lei. È buona per lui, non gli permetterà di cavarsela troppo. " “I like Marilyn. And if you’re brother’s smart, he’ll like her too. She’s good for him, won’t let him get away with too much.”

“Se lo dici tu." "If you say so.” Mercy cleared her throat. "Ascolta, Marilyn ha parlato dei tuoi pasti fatti in casa, e ho pensato che forse potresti farne uno per tutti noi stasera, a casa di Will." “Listen, Marilyn’s been talking about your homecooked meals, and I thought maybe you could make one for all of us tonight, at Will’s place.”

Damiana smirked, with a knowing look in her eye.“Quindi, le cose con Valentino stanno andando così bene? Bene, qualsiasi cosa per la mia futura nuora. " “So, things with Valentino are going that well? Well, anything for my future daughter-in-law.” She gathered her purse and coat and closed the door behind her. "Bene, allora andiamo avanti. Voglio iniziare se devo avere un pasto completo sul tavolo entro l'ora di cena. ” “Well, let’s get going then. I want to get started if I am to have a full meal on the table by dinnertime.”
 
Will didn’t speak Italian, not past words like “spaghetti “ and “lasagna”, anyway. But Mercy had explained her concerns and her plan as he drove, and so he sat patiently and nodded as Mercy talked to her mother. Whatever it was that she said, it seemed to work. She grabbed her purse and coat, and locked up, and dimpled in a smile as he opened the car door for her.

The drive back to his home was tense. Uneventful, but still tense. He checked the mirrors constantly, expecting pursuit. Anticipating pursuit. Anticipating Enforcer Morello and his goons to be on their heels. But, if they were, there was no sign.

Mercy’s mother rattled off a long string of Italian as he finally pulled into his driveway, and then into the garage. He didn’t understand a word of it, but the tone of voice sounded quite pleased - and he caught the names “Marilyn” and “Valentino” in it. Whatever Mercy had told her, it clearly hadn’t involved an explanation of the gunfight or the fact that her son had been shot.

“Welcome to my home,” he declared, opening the door. Then, he added a question to Mercy. “Does... does she understand English?”

-*-

Marilyn ached all over. There were bite marks and scratches in her skin that demanded a demure neckline and long sleeves, and she was sore in ways that felt good but still made her feel like limping. All in all, Valentino had been an excellent reminder of the reason she hadn’t given up on men entirely.

Of course, she’d still kicked him out. He had work to do, appointments to arrange. But she’d told him to be back at six for dinner - an invitation born out of a mixture of lust and wanting to keep an eye on him. She might still want to fuck his brains out, but she wasn’t sure she trusted him. Not yet.

Even if he was hot as hell.

Even if he looked and fucked like a male version of Mercy.

Fuck.

She tried to put that thought out of her head as she splashed some bootleg into her coffee and added a dollop of cream. Was that why she’d fucked him? A consolation prize for losing Mercy to her brother? She didn’t like that idea, not at all.

The front door opened. “Welcome to my home,” she heard William declare. Chuckling, she picked up her coffee and walked into the hall. “Who did you invite now?” she asked, before staring at Mercy’s mom - a petite, plump, older version of her daughter.

“Marilyn!” The older woman gushed, following it up with a glow of rapid-fire Italian as she embraced her and kissed both cheeks.

“Uhm..,”. Mercy was watching. Why was Mercy back? “What’s... going on?”
 
“Poco inglese,” Damiana admitted, piniching her fingers together in demonstration. “Little English.”

Mercedes shrugged, and urged her mother along, “As she said.” Walking beside her, Mercy pointed her to the nearby door. “La cucina è lì.” “The kitchen’s through there”

Marilyn exited from that door, as if on cue, and Damiana was quite pleased to see her. “Sei sempre così carina.” “You always look so pretty.” Pulling her back into the kitchen, she continued. “Lascia che ti insegni come fare la pasta con pomodoro e basilico. È il preferito di Valentino.” “Let me teach you how to make pasta with a tomato-basil souce. It’s Valentino’s favorite.”

Marilyn resisted for a moment, and Damiana disappeared into the kitchen. “What’s... going on?”

“Hiding out from Vinnie,” Mercedes answered with a weak laugh. “Will said it might keep him busy, while we make plans to take him down. I jus dunno if I can stomach sleeping beside him again. For now, however, I brought my ma by so she could make us dinner. Get her out of the house, where Vinnie can’t track down her to hurt me.” She shrugged, realization dawning on her that neither of them was going to be able to leave much in the coming days. At least they were safer here, so long as Vinnie didn’t figure out where they were hiding.

“I should probably get in there and help her out,” she said, pointing toward the kitchen. “Did you want to join us?”



Despite getting shot, today was Valentino’s lucky day. Not just because he got to spend a few hours between Marilyn’s sheets and her thighs, either. As it turned out, all three of her targets were at the same place, at the same time. Guarding one of the northside gang’s liquor warehouses, and playing some cards to pass the time. All three turned to him as he entered, pieces primed and aimed at him. “Eh, who’s youse?”

“I’m Vinnie’s brother-in-law, Valentino. He told me I could do some work for him, helpin’ me get back on my feet.” Truthfully, Vinnie would have probably set him up with something better, if he had asked. But it rang true enough to fool these mooks, and they scooted around the table to give him space to join their game. Before taking a seat, however, he opened the bottle of whisky he carried at his side, and topped off everyone’s drink. “Maybe after I got a little dough in my pocket, you boys can introduce me to some friendly dolls.”

Nick Zocello pointed with his glass, “Ain’t you seeing that Stone broad?”

“Yeah, but she isn’t spreadin’ herself for me.” He picked up the deck and shuffled, flicking out cards around the table. “Imma need someone a little looser, for the time bein’”

They all snickered, and Frankie Lombardi spoke up with a gruff voice, “Yeah, she didn’t want to spread herself for us, neither.” Valentino kept his emotion off his face by rearranging his cards.

Sharky Barbano nudged him with a pudgy elbow. “We got something for that, if you want.”

Valentino was sure he didn’t want to know, but played along anyways. “Oh yeah? Something that will make her hot for me?”

“Nah,” Sharky laughed, tossing away two cards. “Just make it so she can’t stop ya. You heard of a roofie?”

“Roofie?’ Valentino repeated, dealing out replacement cards to everyone at the table

“Itsa little pill, see,” Nick explained, pinching his fingers together as if he had one now. He mimed dropping it in his drink, and took a swig. “You mix it with some alcohol, and it makes her sleepy.”

“Easy’s more like it,” Frankie cracked, finishing off his whisky. Valentino refilled his glass without him needing to ask. “She ain’t gonna fight you then, no matter, no matter what you do.”

“Eh,” Nick growled, motioning with his glass and slipping droplets on the cards, “but youse gotta share now. Share… her … with… us…”

“Let usss…” Sharky stumbled over his words, and took another drink of whisky, “Let us know when you’re… when you’re gonna do it…”

“Won’t she taste it, though? In her drink?” Valentino prodded, fanning out his inside straight.

“Nah it don’t… it don’t taste like nothing…” Frankie blinked a couple times, as if something were dawning on him. Far too late, because even as he pushed out his chair, he stumbled, only to check himself on a stack of liquor boxes behind him. Betrayal and rage flashed in his eyes, then they fluttered closed. Boxes and bottles crashed to the ground in thunderous cacophony, but didn’t disturb the three sleeping men.
 
“Yeah, probably,” Marilyn said, watching Damiana disappear into the kitchen. “Gimme a minute to talk to Will.” She watched Mercy head into the kitchen, then grabbed her brother’s arm. “What happened to slow and steady?” she demanded.

“Enforcer Malone showed up at the Gilded Cage,” he replied. “Very nearly assaulted her while I was hiding in the wardrobe.”

“Fuck,” Marilyn breathed. “You know he’ll tear Chicago apart looking for her, right?”

“Yeah.” Will stared at the door, as if he could see beyond it to take in event in the city. “So I guess we’ll have to step up the time table.”

“”Step up...”. She hesitated. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you’re right,” he declared. His eyes were cold when he turned to look at her. “No more screwing around. No more trying to hurt him.” His smile was cold. “We declared war, Mary. War on that bastard. It’s time I accepted that.”

“Yeah.” Her smile was equally cold, and her eyes were harder. “So now what?”

“Now?” He glanced at the kitchen. “Now we have a home cooked meal. And then we go out Enforcer Malone in a box.”

-*-

“Where the fuck are they?” Vinnie raged, hurling a decanter of bootleg whiskey across the room. It exploded like a bomb, making most of the men in the room flinch. “Nick? Frankie? Sharky? Where the fucking hell are they?”

“I... I dunno boss,” stammered Two-Card Tommy, a mid-level gunsel. “Ain’t seen them since...”

“If you got nothing to say,” Vinnie raged, “then shut yer fuckin’ yap!” Spinning, he threw his empty glass across the room. “Bad enough Eyeball’s tryin’ ta jerk me around? No. Now my top lieutenants have fucked off, and they better have a good goddamn reason!” He glared around the room. “Go fuckin’ find them! Turn out the speakeasies and cathouses!”

As the men scrambled, he dropped into his chair. Shoulda told Mercy ta wait, he groused. Doll’s gettin’ fuckin’ smart. And she’s wantin’ it more’n ever. Coulda banged the fuck outa her, then figured out this Eyeball shit. Or let Eyeball fuck her, sweeten the deal.

Shit. Now he was goddamn hard. Mercy best be getting back from shopping or whatever soon, if she knew what was good for her.
 
Valentino whistled a merry tune as he made the drive back to the Stone Manor. Maybe there was something to using his skills for good, instead of for pay.

Stewart answered the door with a weary smile. “Ah, Mister Capella, are you already joining us for dinner?”

“Uh, I suppose. Though I was hopin’ to see Marilyn first.”

Stewart nodded, and showed him to the kitchen. It was a shock to step in and see his ma and sister preparing a meal beside Marilyn and Miss Porter. Before he even had a chance to question the scene, his mother patted his cheek with a dust cloud of flour.

“Sapevo che avevi un buon senso in quella tua testa. Ti prendi cura di Marilyn, sì? Non lasciarla andare via adesso." “I knew you had some good sense in that head of yours. You take good care of Marilyn, yes? Don’t let her get away now.”

“Si, Mama,” he answered, wondering just was going on here. He planted a kiss on her forehead and took a step towards his sister. “Everything okay?”

Mercy seemed okay, but it seemed she’d learned to put up with a whole lotta shit she didn’t deserve to put up with. And she’d gotten good at hiding behind a smile. It was that smile she flashed him now. “It will be. We just might be moving a little faster than we discussed, earlier.”

His response was a nod. “Alright then. I guess I owe you this much, don’t I? And speaking of debts, Miss Stone, I have something for you, in my car.” He motioned with his head, and walked her outside to his parked car. Fuck, she smelled good, and he had to force himself to concentrate on the here and now, and not get caught up in memories from that morning.

The truck popped open, revealing the tightly packed bodies of her tormentors. “I am pretty sure they’re still alive, but I did use a ton of roofies on them, so…” He shrugged, and smirked at her. “So, where do you want to take them? I don’t imagine you want to, uh, take care of them here.”
 
Marilyn gave Valentino a puzzled look. “Something... for me? What is it?” He didn’t respond, but there was a knowing look in his eye that she found herself trying to puzzle out. “All right. Show me.”

She followed him out, curious and a little distracted. She was still just a little sore from the relentless way she’d fucked him, and the memory kindled a pleasant heat in her belly. But all of that vanished in a gasp of shock as he popped open the trunk of his car. “I am pretty sure they’re still alive, but I did use a ton of roofies on them, so…” He shrugged, and smirked at her. “So, where do you want to take them? I don’t imagine you want to, uh, take care of them here.”

“This... this is...” She stammered, eyes wide. “I... no.” It took a deep breath and an act of will to gather her thoughts as a dark glee flooded her. “No, you’re right. Not, not here.”

Glancing back at the house, she closed the trunk again. “Get in,” she said, hooking her thumb at the car. “I’ll show you.”

-*-

Will watched the car pull away. “Curious,” he said, sipping his coffee. “I wonder where they’re going.”

Damiana cocked her head and joined him, wiping flour from her hands with her apron. “Ho sempre detto che era un ragazzo intelligente,” she grinned, before nudging him with her elbow. “You get... how you say? Brother, soon?”

Sipping his coffee, Will thought about the shootout in the dining room. “I just hope she’s happy.”

-*-

“How much longer do you think they’ll be out?” Marilyn asked excitedly as she paced. “I really want them sake for this. All of them.”

The sound echoed in the small underground room. It was part of the old smugglers’ tunnel network beneath the estate, a largely-forgotten testament to the days when the Stones had still been developing their wealth. She’d found an entrance when she was a little girl and dragged her big brother to help explore them. And after the Raven had been born, they’d become the perfect place to store most of their supplies.

And their tools. Like the heavy mallet she carried as she paced, smacking the head against her hand as she stared at the four bound figures. “I really want them awake,” she repeated.
 
“Not sure,” Valentino responded with a shrug, “I’ve never used this drug before. First kidnapping for me. I just do hits.”

The three men had been tied to chairs, not unlike how he himself had been tied to a chair that morning. Unlike him, however, they were gagged, because he had no interest in hearing them brag about what they’d done Marilyn.

“Let’s see if we can’t wake one up, uh?” He approached Sharky Bambano, and smacked him across the cheeks. Not hard, at first, but more forcefully each subsequent time, until the man groaned and shifted in the chair. He blinked several times before he realized where he was, or who was here with him, or what was about to happen to him. Then the chair shook, the bigger man jerking wildly to escape his bondage.

There was little worry of that. Both he and Marilyn had a piece on there, so even if he did get loose, he wouldn’t get far. But Valentino knew this revenge was important for Marilyn, and he didn’t even want it to come to that.

“Whaddya know, Sharky? Those roofies work pretty goddamn good.” Valentino laughed, and stepped back to give Marilyn room to work. “I might even get laid after this. If she don’t wear herself out taking care of all youse.”
 
“The... the fuck, man?” Sharky stammered our. “What the fuck?” He strained at his bonds, making the chair scoot and hop with his efforts. “Whatchoo talkin’ about? What’d I ever do...”

Marilyn stepped forward, sledgehamner slung over one white-clad shoulder. “Oh, it isn’t about him,” she smiled, lifting his chin with a gloved left hand. “Remember me?”

Sharky’s eyes went wide. “The Stone cunt...” he gasped.

Marilyn’s smile didn’t waver, but her eyes went hard. “You remember me?” she cooed, voice dripping with fake warmth. “I’m flattered! I was afraid I’d just be a one-night stand, when I wanted to be special.”

“The fuck?” he gasped, looking past her to stare at Valentino. “Whatever she paid you, we can double it!” His voice croaked as Marilyn squeezes his jaw. “Triple it!”

“Huh?” The bleary question came from Nick, who started swearing as he tried to stand up. His expletive-laced demands stirred Frank as well, who joined in when he found himself strapped down.

“Gentlemen, please,” Marilyn called, raising her voice. “I’m sure you all are wondering why I called you here?” She chuckled at their profane reactions. “Well, this is an anniversary of sorts. A little get-together.”

She brought her foot up and snapped it out, kicking Nick’s chair over. He squawked, then gasped in pain as his face slammed into the floor. “We’re just missing two people, to make perfect,” she continued cheerfully, rummaging through a box of tools. “Just just two people.”

“What?” Sharky demanded. “Who?” Frankie got out,chaining his head to see what she was doing. “You fucking crazy bitch!” Nick screamed from the floor.

“Your boss,” Marilyn replied absently, examining an old croquet stake. “And my sister-in-law. Well she wasn’t officially my sister-in-law, but she was.” Swinging the stake lightly, she strolled over to the fallen chair. “You remember my sister-in-law, don’t you Nick?”

“Fucking crazy bitch!” Nick roared, flinching as Marilyn braced one foot on the back of the chair.

“No, that’s me,” she smiled, bending a little to place the point of the stake against the underside of the seat. “She was kind and demure and sweet. And you laughed when you raped her, Nick. Remember? Joking about how much she must have loved taking it in the ass, because she was screaming for you?”

The sledgehammer swung, driving the stake through the seat. Blood gushed out and Nick howled in agony, then howled again as she hit it again. “He must love it up the ass, guys,” she smiled, words barely audible over Nick’s screams. “Who’s next?”
 
Sharky and Frankie struggled even harder against their bonds, desperate to escape their coming torment and Nick’s harried screams. Sharky, in particular, seemed to think he could still talk Vaentino out of everything. “You think you can get away with this Valentino? Once Vinnie figures out you sold us out, you’re fucking dead! And Mercy’s gonna get it even worse than before, after this mess.”

That got his attention. Gripping Sharky’s jaw between thumb and forefinger, he forced him to look at him. “Worse than what?”

“Huh?”

“What’s going to get worse for Mercy?” His grip tightened, and his eyes hardened. “What’s that bastard already doing to her?”

“Valentino–“ Any excuse the goombah could make died away as he shoved his chair onto the ground. Valentino followed him down, and hammered more questions into his face.

“Huh? Does he beat her? Rape her? Pimp her?” Each question accompanied a fist to the man’s head. As if he could beat his own guilt and frustration away. “How long? How long has he hurt her? How long have all you tough guys stood around and did nothing while he beat my sister?”

This wasn’t the man responsible. Wasn’t the man who deserved to suffer. But, so far as he could tell, the was a long line to get revenge on Vinnie. And this was Marilyn’s turn, right now. So he stood, landing one last kick to the man’s gut, and took two steps back.

It was Frank that spoke up this time. “Jesus, Valentino, just put a bullet in our heads. This ain’t no way for a man to die.”

He forced himself to turn, and pulled out another croquet stake out, and handed it to Marilyn. “I don’t see any men here. Just dogs that need to be put down.”
 
“Not dogs,” Marilyn spat, ignoring the stake. “You just put dogs down. They don’t know any better.”

Frank hopped frantically, trying to slide his chair away from her as she advanced. Wood scraped on hard-packed earth, barely audible over Sharky’s mumbled prayers and Nick’s gagging agony. “Don’t...” he mumbled, a sort of automatic, hopeless pleading. “God, don’t...”

“Funny thing,” Marilyn growled. “I’m pretty sure I said the exact same thing. And look how that turned out.” She raised the hammer. “And look how it turned out.”

-*-

It was over.

Sharky leaned forward, his weight supported entirely by the cord around his throat. She’d arranged things so that it was his own ability to support himself with his knees that had kept him from slowly strangling, and he’d eventually failed. Mostly because she’d shattered his feet with the hammer. Frank has gotten to watch, and she’d even untied him so he’d be more comfirtable - after breaking his arms and legs, of course. And then, afterwards, she’d cut his dick off and rammed it down his throat.

Somewhere in there, Frank had bled out.

Marilyn sat on the floor, knees drawn up to her chest, staring at her gloved hands. They were stained with blood, and she knew she should take them off. “I thought I’d feel... something,” she finally said, listless. “Satisfied, maybe. Like this was over.”

After a moment she made herself stand up, a slow affair of bracing against floor and walls. “I don’t feel a goddamn thing,” she muttered. “Just... tired.”

She let her gaze linger on the three corpses, then grimaced. “I’m going to take a long, hot bath, get their stink off of me.” With that, she gave Valentino a wan, strained smile. “Drive me home?”
 
Valentino hadn’t spoken much more during the ordeal. He just did whatever Marilyn asked. He didn’t understand what she was working through, and he didn’t have any good advice to help her out. All he really could do was be present and supportive.

“Sure,” he answered, wrapping an arm over her shoulder and placing a light kiss on her forehead. He walked her back towards his car and opened the door for her, “Whatever you need.”


Mercedes wiped the sweat from her brow before hefting the platter of pasta into the dining room. Dinner had taken a couple hours to prepare, because her mother could be quite exacting when it came to cooking. But the result was a four-course meal that smelled delightful, and she found herself quite hungry. And maybe it would be nice to have a big family meal with the people she loved.

"È tuo marito che si unisce a noi?" Is that husband of yours joining us? her mother asked, arranging the dishes on the dining room table. She didn’t look over at her, and the contempt in her voice was palpable.

“No.” Now was as good a time as any to tell her. "In realtà lascerò Vinnie." “I am going to leave Vinnie, actually.”

Her mother turned, and the disapproval in her expression made Mercedes wince. "Hai sposato Vinnie, fino alla morte." “You married Vinnie, until death.”

"Lo so," “I know,” she started, sighing loudly. Her mom was a devout, traditional Catholic, and divorce wasn’t in her vocabulary. Should she mention the abuse? Would any of it help her to understand? "Ma Vinnie non è il marito che ha promesso di essere e–" “But Vinnie isn’t the husband he promised to be and–“

Her mother cut off the excuse by grabbing her by both shoulders, and staring deep into her eyes. "Fino alla morte." “Until death,” her mother repeated, her gaze hard and unwavering. There was something different in her tone this time, something cold. Maybe she did understand, at least a little bit. Mercedes didn’t speak, but nodded, and after a moment, her mother let go.

"Farò sapere a tutti che la cena è pronta." “I’ll let everyone know dinner is ready.”
 
Will sat, watching Mercy and her mother and Ms. Porter carry platters of pasta and soups and vegetables out of the kitchen. He’d tried to help, and both times Damiana had chased him out, shouting in Italian and waving a wooden spoon like a sword. She had, it seemed, some e trembly strong views about men in the kitchen.

“Smells good,” Valentino said, walking into the dining room. Wood scraped as he took a seat. “Oh, hey! Mama’s made her manicotti!”

“I... guess,” Will remarked. “Honestly, I get lost once you get away from spaghetti and macaroni. But it smells amazing.”

“Yep.” Valentino leaned forward, then hissed in pain as he rested his weight on his injured arm. “I tried to talk mama into opening a restaurant, more than once.”

“How’d that go?”

“La cucina piccola fal la casa grande, she told me.” He shrugged. “I guess she loves cooking, and didn’t wanna make it work.”

“I get that.” Will sat back, watching his hoist guest. It was strange, having a conversation with a man he’d nearly killed a few hours ago. Well, that Mary had nearly killed. “Where’s Mary?”

“Said she was goin’ up to her room,” Valentino replied. “Wanted to clean up before dinner.”
 
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