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

[Xanaphia]

“And what shall I blame on the alcohol?” Mercy whispered. Her arms went up over Marilyn’s shoulders, and there was no more space separating their bodies. There was still a tiny voice in her head, reminding her this was sin, but Marilyn’s breaths, deep and rhythmic, drowned it out.
“That I crave the taste of sin upon my lips?”
There was no hesitation now, as Mercedes closed the distance between them. Still, times seemed to stand still, stretching out before her to capture the moment. Soft bodies molded together, silk sliding over velvet. Two fingers brushed strands of dark hair behind Marilyn’s ear, and lingered, slipping down her long, slender neck and back behind her head. She locked onto Marilyn’s eyes, looking for that last moment warning, flinch. Some sign to stop, to pull back, to laugh this off like a joke. Instead, Marilyn’s eyes closed and her lips parted, inviting Mercedes.

The sharp burn of bourbon tingled on Mercedes’ tongue, and thrill tingled on her nerves. The kiss was light, and nervous, exploring and probing and testing each woman’s limits and resolve. It was wrong, Mercedes knew, and she didn’t care. An abomination before God. The same God who took her family and left her with a bastard of a husband. The same God that demanded her subservience to him. Fuck God, she decided, hungry for Marilyn’s taste, and fuck Vinnie too.

“I want to have you in the bed I share with Vinnie. I want it saturated in your scent.”

 

[Xanaphia]

Mercedes hardly had time to drain her glass of gin before Vinnie grabbed her, and definitely didn’t have time to get another one before he pulled her onto his lap. But she was running out of excuses to avoid this, and if she delayed much more, things would get worse for her. After all, he’d proven already that her desire and consent were not necessary.

“Stoppit Vinnie,” she murmured, hiding her disgust in demure innocence, “That’s so dirty.” The naïve virgin act usually worked for him. Maybe he’d blow his load quickly and leave her alone. But he shoved his slimy tongue down her throat and she fought her gut not to gag. Even with her eyes screwed shut, trying to imagine Marilyn or William or anyone else in the world, she was painfully aware of her husband, prodding her with his hardon.

Still, realizing he was going to have trouble removing his pants gave her an idea. Maybe she could still get out of this without fucking him, though what she’d have to do instead wasn’t much better. Still she crawled backwards “How does this work now, with you injured? If I am going to do all the work, you need to tell me what to do…”” She cooed, settling on the down on the floor on her knees. Just like a show, Mercy. Just put on an act and he won’t last but a minute or two.

Looking up at her husband, Mercy put on her best fake smile, the kind that was easy to wear at stage lights flashed in her eyes. Deft fingers worked at his pants, unbuckling his belt and dragging his slacks of pasty legs. His cock stood firm in his underwear, already twitching as she stayed on her knees before him. “Whaddya want me to do, Vinnie?” she asked, hoping he’d get himself worked up as she eased the slacks off him. Ugh, the stench of stale sweat and musk invaded her noise, and she could tell he hadn’t bathed the whole time he was in the hospital. Swallowing down her revulsion, she reached into his underwear to grab his cock. “Tell this good Catholic girl what to do to get you off.”

 

[Xanaphia]

Hot damn, he looked good under that coat. All tight and firm and strong as hell. And she didn’t miss the ways his eyes lingered, caressing her with a hungry glance.

“You thinking ‘bout getting’ me outta my costume?” the Nightingale giggled, her southside accent thicker as the alcohol worked on her. She sure as hell was. Thinking about getting both of them out of these costumes, wrapped up in his arms and between her legs. She drifted closer and breathed in his scent. Closer still, misjudging the distance between them perhaps, (or giving in to her own desires to touch him), and she brushed against his cheek, their masked rubbing together.

Pull back, some quiet voice in her mind whispered, pull away. Easy to ignore that voice of reason now, liquid temptation flowing in her veins. So, her nose ghosted his exposed jaw, trailing towards his lips. Finding his mouth with her own and exploring his lips with her tongue.

“I want you,” the alcohol admitted for her. More buttons came undone, the cool of the night a glorious respite to the heat of her skin. Not for long, though, as she pressed herself into the Raven, offering herself and demanding more of him. “I wanna forget, for justta bit…”

 

[Xanaphia]

“What if I just showed you?” Mercedes exhaled, cupping Marilyn’s face. Stockings brushed against stockings as Mercedes slid her thigh between Marilyn’s. Lingering, distant guilt at the night she’d spent with the Raven remained but became easier to ignore as Marilyn’s perfume filled her senses. Whatever they were, they didn’t need figure it out right now.

Mercedes opened her mouth to Marilyn’s tongue, savoring the kiss, the heat of Marilyn’s body, her silken grip on Mercedes’ hips. Everything about Marilyn felt good, felt right, and stood in contrast to how much she hated her husband and his boorish touch.

Emboldened by recent experience, Mercedes explored Marilyn with new confidence. Molded hands to her high, firm breasts, before trailing down that tight stomach. “You feel so good,” Mercedes admitted, grazing Marilyn’s jaw with teeth, before finding a vein to bite. Adventurous hands moved even lower, going under the hem of her dress to tease Marilyn over her underwear. “Tell me you want me inside you.”

 

[TheCorsair]

Vinnie felt himself go stiff as Mercedes presses herself up against him, and his train of thought drained right down into his dick. The sight of the palooka he’d been talking to checking out his wife and clearly wishing he could get some of that just made it better. “All this champagne made me dizzy,” she giggled, rubbing herself against him.

“Has it now, baby?” he grinned, slipping an arm around her waist. “You okay?”

“Maybe you can take me upstairs and lay me down.” She giggled again, brushing her hand over his chest, rather indiscreetly. “Please, baby…”

“Sure thing, baby,” he leered, before glancing back at the man he’d been talking to. “I’ll give you a call later, Carl. Gotta go take care of my wife, you know?”

“I’ll bet you do.” The envious reply made Vinnie grin as he steered Mercy towards the stairs.

-*-

Marilyn turned her head, sipping lightly at a glass of champagne and watching Mercy’s performance in a mirror. The sight of what she was doing with her rapist made her want to retch. It reminded her of the weight of the automatic tucked into her purse, and her palms began to itch. One quick move, she knew, and the bastard would be dead before anyone could act.

Maybe. Or, maybe, the Organization’s moons would stomp her head into the floor before she could make sure. And then they’d have her.

Again.

So Marilyn watched as Mercy and Enforcer Morello made their way up the stairs. Watched, and gripped the stem of her glass so hard it seemed it would snap. “Never again,” she hissed. “Never...”

-*-

“More, huh? You want more of me?”

Vinnie grinned, his weight pressing Mercy into the wall as he pushed his tongue between her lips. His hands crawled over her body, exploring her through the thin fabric of her dress. “Fuck, baby, maybe I should get shot more,” leered, hiking her dress up over her hips and running his hands over her stockinged legs. “You’ve been wild for me ever since I got outta the hospital.”

They hadn’t made it to a bedroom. Hell, they’d barely managed to close the door of the little office they’d found, right next to the conference room, before Mercy had been all over him. And Goddamn if he wasn’t enjoying it.

He peeled her panties down over one leg and then the other, jamming the lacy silk into a pocket. Then he kissed her again, tasting the booze on her mouth as he fumbled with his trousers. Shoving her back, bracing her on the desk, he thrust into her. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he growled, feeling her grip his cock. “You always feel so good on me, baby.”

 

[Xanaphia]

Each of William’s breaths, each of his touches and kisses pushed back against the growing darkness in Mercedes’ mind. Pushed back against the encroaching self-hate and shame. Filling her mind instead with his scent, his taste, his warmth, and hopefully soon, his cock.

Soon all other concerns faded away, save for the needling memory of fucking the Raven with the same lust-mad need. But she didn’t even want to think about him, as electric as their night had been. Not now. Now, all she wanted was William.

So, his hands worked at the straps of her nightgown, and her hands hiked the hem up over her hips. Reflecting and reacting to his hunger with her own, until his pajama top came off, and his pants soon followed.

“I want you,” he gasped, thumbs stroking the stiff peaks of her nipples. “God, I want you.”

“Show me,” she begged, drawing in a deep breath as his caress awoke desire within her. “Please, Will, show me how much you want me…” Not merely speaking the words, she demonstrated, trembling legs pulling his even closer as they struggled to tear their clothes off while tangled up together. But she knew he could feel her sultry heat, with thighs spread open for him.

It was awkward to reach between them, while he hovered over her, strong hands on her firm breasts, but she managed. First, to help tear his pants away, so he could fuck her. Then, so she could grab his cock, feel how hard he was and just how badly he wanted her. So she could explore him, just as he explored her.

“I want you, Will. I want you inside me. I need you inside me.”

 

[TheCorsair]

The Raven’s gloved hands caught her wrists, pulling them up and away. “I could tell you,” the vigilante growled, “but it would be a lie.”

Gloves hands pushed the Nightengale’s hands up over her head, moving her back until back and arms met chill stone. One hand remained there, holding her in place, while the other trailed down her arm and up her turtleneck-covered throat. “Absolutely a lie,” the Raven added in a harsh croak of a whisper, as leather-clad fingers teased her mask upwards. “I want you.”

The vigilante’s body was a hard, armor-clad weight pinning her to the wall, and the hot taste of soft lips and a heated tongue exploring her mouth. A smooth jaw, all that was exposed of the vigilante’s face, brushed her chin as teeth nipped at her throat. “I want you,” the Raven repeated, free hand working at her belt and zipper.

Leather caressed bare skin as the Raven pushed her pants open, and leather traced her arm and torso as the vigilante slowly knelt before her. “I want to taste you,” the harsh voice whispered, breath hot on her skin as leather-sheathed hands pulled her pants down over her hips and lifted one leg to hook over an armored shoulder.

The Raven drew a deep breath, inhaling her scent. “Do you taste as good as you smell?” Leaning In, the vigilante inhaled again. Then, slowly, a supple tongue explored her lips. “Better.” Lips found her clit in an intimate kiss, and then the tongue caressed her flesh again. “But you have to tell me if it feels good, Nightengale. I want you to enjoy this.”

 

[TheCorsair]

Will stride through the back stage areas of the Gilded Cage with the calm pace of a man who had a perfect right to be there. It was a hard pace to maintain, though. Mercy’s palmed key felt like fire in his hand, and similar flame coursed through his veins. He wanted to break into a run, throwing caution to the winds. He wanted to crouch, certain that everyone was watching him and aware of what he was doing.

So, he forced himself to walk. Nobody batted an eye. Still, the click of the lock was loud as a gunshot in his ears, and the creak if the door was a groaning scream out of a radio serial as he pushed it open and slipped in. He finally realized he was holding his breath when it closed behind him.

The wait stretched on, an excruciating stretch as seconds ticked by. Every creak if the floor outside was a jolt of alarm. Mercy? An employee? One of the North Sude goons, tipped off to his presence? When the door finally unlocked he tended, eyes hard and fists balled, ready to fight for his life.

Mercy’s shape in the door, and her electric smile, dissolved all his tension. “So, uh, what did you want to talk ‘bout?” she murmured, coming into his arms. Her kiss tasted like whiskey and heat, and it took all his presence of mind to turn and close the door completely with his foot.

“You,” he murmured, exploring her hips with his hands. The silk gown she wore for her performance was slick and thin beneath his hands. “Me. Us.” He fumbled with the lock as he kissed her again, catching her lip with his teeth and tugging gently. “I want to hear my name in your lips, hear you sing for me in private.”

“We’ll hafta be quiet,” she whispered against his lips, savoring his taste. “Wouldn’t want anyone else listenin’ to our conversation.”

Grinning, he eased her back against the dressing room table. “I’ll try,” he whispered back, leaning into her and exploring her mouth with his. In the mirror he could see his hands stroking her back, watch her hair cascade down in ebon waves as she arched her neck to meet his kiss. “It’ll be hard,” he continued, bringing his hands up and around to cup her breasts, “but I’ll try.”

 

[Xanaphia]

Already, Mercedes was wired. It took two cups of coffee to shake off fog of exhaustion this morning. At least Vinnie was too angry about the hit to pay her much mind. And he had no idea about the Nightingale, assuming them to be a man.

“And slipped past the guards to go hit one of Capone’s warehouses!”

“Capone too, huh?” she asked, trying not to show much interest in it. We didn’t hit Capone last night. So who did? As much as she didn’t like the idea of a copycat, it did muddy the issue. Perhaps that was something they could use to their advantage against L’Ombra.

“You got any ideas, baby?”

“Geez, I dunno hun.” Mercedes shrugged exaggeratedly, which had the effect of keeping Vinnie’s eyes on her cleavage and off her face. “Maybe they’re trying to break into crime themselves, thin out the gangs to make some room for themselves. Any new faces in the bootlegging scene lately?”
Vinnie considered that with pursed lips, stabbing his last bite of sausage off his plate. “Could be those fucking micks. Think just because they run Boston they can cut in here.”

Good, now change the subject. “Ya know, baby, with all these masked killers running around, I think I might feel a bit safer with a new gun.”

“A new gun?” Vinnie asked, raising an eyebrow, “It ain’t a bag Mercy, and you don’t need a new one to go with each outfit.”

Damn, he must have been in a bad mood, it wasn’t like he didn’t have access to scores of guns. “Yeah, but a smaller one, one I could keep on me at the club, would really make me feel better. Please?”

“You want it that bad?” Vinnie asked, cocking his head to one side. Hating herself, she bit her lip and nodded, playing into his fantasy. Oh, but how sweet would it be to use a gun he bought her to kill his men?

Vinnie chuckled, and pulled her out her chair. “Why don’t you show me how bad you want it, baby.” He unbuckled his pants, laying out his demands in no uncertain terms. Maybe she could just suck him off and get this over with.

Dropping to her knees, Mercedes took her place before Vinnie. His cock twitched as she pulled it out of his underwear, already throbbing hard. She didn’t look up while she stroked him, pretending that, as long as she didn’t see his face, she could be stroking anyone. Maybe William. Or the Raven. It’d been too dangerous last night to indulge in him, but he left her with a kiss that made her wet just remembering it.

With that memory to warm her, Mercy opened wide, and swallowed his bulbous, purple head.

 

[TheCorsair]

“[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]Can I help you with that?”[/BGCOLOR]

There was a smirk on his lips, but it wasn’t mockery. It was understanding.

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“You want ‘em dead, or delivered to you so you can do it yourself?”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“Delivered.” Leather creaked as Marilyn made a fist. “It’s not enough to know they’re dead. I want to be the one pulling the trigger.” She twisted the corner of her mouth in a grimace. “But how’s that gonna happen?”[/BGCOLOR]

“[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]You said it yourself: I need to prove myself to you. So use me.” [/BGCOLOR]

Valentino left the words hanging for a moment, and it wasn’t hard to guess what he meant by that. Or, at least, how she interpreted it. Because, angry at him or not, he was still gorgeous. “What do you have in mind?”

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“Use the fact that I can get in close with those guys to bring them low,” he replied, leaning forward. She watched him since as the movement pulled the stitches in his arm. “It’s going to take a few weeks to get all the supplies we need, right? Let’s cross a couple more names off your list.”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“All right,” she said, standing up. Her hips swayed as she walked towards him, making the long coat twitch. “You’re on - I don’t care which one you bring me first.” A leather-gloved hand caressed his face as she stared down at him, her expression a ghost of a smile and hard, cold eyes.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]Then she found herself kissing him, lifting his chin and devouring his mouth, her tongue slipping between his lips to taste the heat of his mouth. She broke away, drawing a deep breath, shivering with need and adrenaline. “I’m going to go change,” she declared, taking a step away. “You’d better get on with it.”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-*-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]Will pulled Mercy close, letting her breath warm his face as she sang. Her heat played over his lips, held close to hers. Close, but not touching. “Sing for me,” he whispered, easing her coat off and letting it spill to the ground. Her clothes were simple, a cotton blouse and skirt, far more modest than her stage gowns. But he could feel her strong body through the fabric as he explored her.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]His lips followed the line of her jaw and the curve of her neck, his hands the arch of her spine. “I want to hear you,” he murmured against her skin, punctuating the words with nipping bites. “I want to hear my name on your lips.” Fingers worked the buttons of her skirt, allowing us hands to slide over her panties and the firm flesh beneath.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“Sing for me, Mercy.”[/BGCOLOR]

 

[Xanaphia]

Every one of William’s pleas burned hot against her skin and between her thighs. God, she wanted it, all of it, and she wanted him. Not just against and inside her, either. Soon, she’d be free of Vinnie, free to pursue her own life. Soon, but not soon enough.

One finger teased her slit, just as she teased his cock, and her resolve broke. She needed him, now. Rising up, she gave him enough room to slide her panties to one side, and as she came down, she buried him within her sultry depths. “Will!” she gasped, whimpered, the reality of having him now so much better than their earlier attempt over the phone. So much better after their confessions of love. “God, Will, you feel so good…”

Hungry hands inspired her to move harder, faster on him, to sink completely down his shaft. Hungry lips devoured his in a kiss, swallowing and savoring his cries of pleasure. Hungry thighs squeezed his tight, flexing and bunching to ride his length. He met her movement, one hand tight on her ass and pulling her deeper upon him. His finger continued to tease her, sliding over lips stuffed with thick cock to toy with her clit. The jolt of bliss made her go rigid upon him, back arched in wanton abandon. “Will! Oh God Will, I’m cumming!”

~*~

Valentino stopped in his tracked, half transfixed by the sight of Marilyn half undressed, and half cowed by her anger. She had, after all, shot him not even a hour ago. And kissed him with a deep hunger just a few scant minutes ago.

He wanted her. The Raven, stripped and writhing beneath him. Or trapped between her powerful thighs, claimed in defeat.
He didn’t answer her question. Didn’t say anything, just stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Two more strides closed the distance between them, gave her a chance to object or throw him out.

When she didn’t, he pulled her close again, taking a ravenous kiss from her lips. When muscles in his arm ached, he dug his fingers into her back, crushing her body to his. With the body armor gone, her figure molded to his, soft curves and firm muscle. Still, he wanted more.

Needy fingers worked at her buttons, quaking in the effort not to just rip it free of her skin. His erection strained against his fly, throbbing from the violence in her kiss. “Tell me to stop…”