A/N: The sole reason for this is because I wanted to write a kinky Richard fic. I thought I'd take the Jacqueline Carey route and put a plot around it (If you haven't read any of her work -especially the first three in the Kushiel trilogy, I highly recommend her. She is a fantastic writer, her imagery is amazing, her characters are superb, and I would almost bet a kidney that if you pick up one of her books, you'll want to read it in one sitting.)

So, um, yeah...it might seem pretty OOC for Richard, but to be honest, I think any man who can scalp someone might enjoy a little kink in their sex life.

There are some pics of Jack Huston on Tumblr that just inspire very impure thoughts. (not that I really need any help having those), so here you go.

(Oh, and the plot might show up in a chapter or two. Or I might just leave this as nothing but literotica.)

Chapter 1

It was a house that had obviously seen better days, but you could tell care was taken to keep it appearing somewhat neat and tidy. Flower boxes lined the windowsills, and the porch rail and door had been painted not too long ago. Lights burned in a few of the windows, muted by curtains of varying colors. Richard spotted the silhouetted cat painted on one of the stairs and knew this was the right place. It was a quiet neighborhood, not quite entirely seedy, but not far from it. Richard looked around, making sure no one spotted him, and hurried up the stairs.

"Cat? Sorry to bother you, but, um...there's a guy in the entry hall."

Cat looked up from the account book she'd been going over and adjusted her glasses. "And none of you know what to do when a man comes in the house?"

"Well, no...it's just that...it's that guy with the mask."

"Fuck!" Cat muttered as she shot to her feet, nearly knocking her chair over in her haste. She stormed out of her office, past the bar which got no real use since the house had no liquor, through the lounge and into the entry hall.

"I know who you are!" she yelled, stepping close to Richard and poking his chest. "You're Jimmy Darmody's friend, and if you were running around with Darmody, you're probably running around for Nucky Thompson." Richard withstood three pokes of that relentless finger before he started backing away, taken aback by the ferocity of her outburst. "You're going to march yourself right out that door and back to Nucky and you're going to tell him that I am not going to give in to him. And the next time you show up at my house I'm going to shoot you. Do I make myself clear?" Richard found his back pressed against the door, and even though he couldn't go anyplace else, the woman was still poking his chest. He blinked at her for a moment, slightly confused by the situation.

"I didn't, mm. Come here because of Nucky," he said, glancing into her eye, then looking away quickly. He wondered if this woman always had such a knack for taking an awkward situation and making it nearly unbearable. She probably did, which would explain the near lack of clients.

"Oh? And what did you come for, then?" she asked, planting her hands on her hips and fixing Richard with her gaze. Richard looked back at her, fighting the urge to grind his teeth.

"Why do men, mm. Usually visit...a whorehouse?" he asked, feeling somewhat peeved. Nice of her to take what was already an awkward situation for him and make it so much worse. She opened her mouth and drew breath, like she was going to go off on him again, but she quickly closed it again and took a small step back from him.

"Oh," she replied. She looked somewhat embarrassed, the faint blush in her cheeks giving her the appearance of an innocence she didn't possess. "Well, then...come in. Did you see a girl you'd like?"

"Mm, yes. The one with. Black hair, blue, mm. Eyes, and glasses. If, mm. She's available." Cat felt the blush in her cheeks deepen as she weighed her choices. She could be honest and tell him she'd retired from the mattress and see if one of the other girls caught his interest, or she could take him to her room, fuck him and be done with it. Part of her wanted to shuffle him off to one of the other girls, but he wanted her and what was the job description of a whore? Give the customer what he wanted.

"All right,' she finally replied, leading him through the house to the small bedroom she called her own. It was plainly but comfortably decorated. It wasn't the room of a whore but that of the proprietor of the house. Stacks of paperwork covered the bed, and Cat gave a small sigh as she looked at the mess. "Give me a minute, please," she said as she started clearing her bed. "I wasn't expecting to have anyone back here tonight."

"I've. Mm, got all night," Richard replied as he leaned against the wall and watched her bustle about, trying to keep some sort of organization to the piles. "Are you the, mm. Sexy librarian fantasy?" he asked as she placed a stack of papers on her dresser.

"If that's what you want me to be tonight, then sure."

"I do have. Mm, a request," Richard said.

Of course you do. Cat thought as she moved the last stack of papers to a clear spot on her windowsill. "I do pretty much anything, but I draw the line at any act involving animals or children."

"You're. Mm, kidding."

"I'm sorry, aren't whores allowed to have standards or morals?" she snapped, facing him with her hands on her hips. Richard realized he had managed to find the most cantankerous whore on the eastern seaboard. He took a deep breath, wondered if he shouldn't just leave now and forget the entire thing, but he decided to at least see if she would do what he wanted.

"I mean. Mm, you're kidding? Men have... asked you. To involve animals? That's mm. Disgusting."

"Everyone's got their own kinks. I'm sure there are plenty of men who would look at whatever it is that you want me to do as disgusting. What do you want me to do, anyway?" Richard told her, and Cat felt her eyebrows creep up her forehead. This man was by far the most enigmatic client she ever met. She knew his reputation. EVERYONE in the less up-and-up society of Atlantic City knew about the quiet killer that used to shadow Darmody. But as she listened to him shyly tell her what he wanted for the night, she couldn't reconcile his sweet, almost innocent request with the fact that he killed people.

"That's what you want?" she asked. He nodded. "Alright. Not a request I've ever personally gotten, but okay. But you seem to think this is a problem."

"Mm, I would have. To take. Mm, my mask off..." As he spoke, his eyes drifted towards the floor. "I, mm. Don't think...you would. Be comfortable seeing what. Mm, it's covering."

Which Cat thought really meant he wasn't comfortable with her seeing what it was hiding. Well, that was fine. His request wasn't too outrageous as far as they went. She could accommodate him.

"Well, I could just take off my glasses," she said, trying to lighten the mood somewhat. "Then you'd just be a blur." As she spoke, she walked to her closet and opened the door. "But, I've got something that might...make you more comfortable." She pulled a trunk out of her closet and opened it, rummaging through it's contents, a strange amount of clanking and jangling accompanying her digging. Richard watched her with a mix of curiosity and hopeful anticipation. She finally held something up, a look of triumph on her face. Richard looked at the item in her hand, a leather blindfold. He gave a small nod and felt that hopeful anticipation turn into sharp, eager desire. But it was overlaid with a layer of worry, the fear of something going wrong nagging at him. He tried to brush it aside as she walked back to the bed. She stood beside it and looked at Richard.

"Couple of rules," she told him. "There's the standard whorehouse rule: no kissing on the mouth. If you do anything that makes me bleed, it'll be an extra ten buck. And if I say no, or stop, I mean no, or stop. Got it?" Richard nodded, wondered what this woman normally did that required a ten dollar fee for breaking skin, and watched as she took off her glasses, set them on the nightstand, and then slipped the blindfold on and adjusted it so it covered her eyes completely. Then, she slowly reached up and began unfastening her dress, letting it slide from her body to puddle at her feet.

Silently, Richard closed the distance between them. He reached out, almost shyly, and skimmed his fingers over the curve of her shoulder. His touch surprised her, she hadn't heard him move at all.

"Mm, sorry," Richard murmured as she startled. But he continued to skim his fingers over her skin, watching as goosebumps formed under his touch. "Please don't, mm. Fake it," he said softly, tracing the curve of her collar bone. "If I'm not, mm. Doing it right...tell me."

"Alright," Cat replied, feeling the initial flutters of arousal beginning to build as one of his hands caressed the underside of her breast, cupping it slightly, as if he were testing it's weight. She wondered if he understood just how much trust she was placing in him at the moment. Blindfolded, she wouldn't know until it was too late if he decided to do something violent, like shoot her where she stood. But she thought she was still good enough at judging customers that she didn't really have to fear that. The man who had developed a reputation as a merciless killer had come to her brothel and said in a shy, innocent way that his desire for the evening was to touch and taste her, see if he could bring her to orgasm. She desperately wanted to ask the one question a whore never asked a client: WHY? But she would never ask, and unless he volunteered the information, she would never know.

She felt his hands begin sliding her shift up her body, and she raised her arms and helped pull it off. She knew he was looking at her, she could feel the weight of his gaze even though she couldn't see him. She stood still, waiting. She began to tremble with anticipation, wondered what he was waiting for. Did he not find her arousing now that she was naked?

"Lay down, mm. Please," he said softly. She sat, then laid herself out along the bed. She heard his clothes fall to the floor, then he bed dipped as he joined her on it. He began running his hands over her body, very lightly, not completely innocently. He was gentle as he rolled one of her nipples between thumb and forefinger, teasing it to tautness before he lightly ran his tongue over the stiffened peak, once, twice, three times. A low moan escaped her throat as Richard trailed his hand up her ribs and cupped her other breast, his strong fingers kneading the swell. Cat brought her hands up and twined them in his hair, applied slight pressure to the back of his head, wordlessly encouraging him to take the nipple between his lips and gently begin sucking. There was something odd, but not unpleasant about the sensation...she couldn't quite describe it, although it almost felt like his mouth wasn't entirely closed around the nub. She pushed the thought from her mind as his teeth grazed her skin.

"Yessssss," she nearly hissed as she arched her back. He took her nipple between his teeth, tugging slightly, nipping just a little. Her breath grew quick and shallow, her heart began to race. His skimmed his hand down her stomach, between her legs, his fingers parting her and exploring her folds. Cat spread her legs and lifted her hips, pressed against his head, hinting 'down'. He took his time kissing and licking his way down her stomach. He positioned himself between her legs, pinning her right leg down with his arm, but working his other arm under her thigh. He spread her lips with his left hand and began exploring her with his tongue. It was torturous, because he kept skirting around her clit, never fully touching it, just brushing by it, occasionally flicking it lightly, but never devoting true attention to it. Cat tried to twist her hips to get her nerve bundle closer to his mouth, but know matter how she squirmed, he seemed to avoid it. Finally, Cat snaked her hand down and pointed to her clit.

"Put your mouth there," she said. "Nibble, lick, suck just dear fucking god please..."

Richard ran his tongue along her finger, brushing her clit as he did so. Cat moaned and moved her finger out of the way, deep moans issuing from her throat as he finally FINALLY began attending to the little pearl that begged for attention. He was gentle in his attention, but thorough. Cat's hips began to rock in time with his movements, the fingers of his right hand digging into her hip, pulling her against his face as he thrust his tongue inside of her, his nose thrusting against her clit.

"I said lick the damn thing," Cat ordered, her teeth clenched. She was so close to that peak, and he was fucking teasing her? What the hell did he think was going on here? Richard obeyed, bringing his mouth back up to the perked nub. He experimented with different tongue motions, listening to her moans and whimpers, feeling her body start to tremble. He wanted to tease her a little more, if only for his own amusement, but her hand twined in his hair, and she pushed herself against his face, grinding her hips against him, 'yes' and 'fuck yes' a streaming litany from her mouth. Her back arched, her body stiffened momentarily before completely relaxing against the bed, her fingers loosening from his hair.

Richard abruptly pulled away from her. "Mm. Roll over," he told her, his cock throbbing with desire. He watched her as she rolled onto her stomach, resisting the urge to just ram himself into her. He waited until she had settled to on her stomach, her legs spread invitingly before he covered her body with his and slid into her. He moaned as she enveloped him, slick and warm and so accommodating. He started moving slowly and deeply, her hips lifting each time he plunged into her. Each thrust brought a gasp from her throat, each gasp brought him closer to the edge. She pulled her knees in just slightly, raising her hips letting him deeper into her. "Harder," she gasped. "God please fuck me harder." Richard obliged. He gave in to his lust, pounding himself into her as hard as he could. "Bring. Mm, your. Knees up," he somehow managed to say, keeping his hips against her ass as she drew her knees in and he moved into a kneeling position. "Fuck me hard," she said.

Richard grabbed her hips and pulled her against him as he thrust into her. He had never been so rough before, would never have considered it, but he enjoyed it. It felt good. Each time he rammed into her a small cry escaped from her, a sound of pure pleasure. "Oh. Fuck... God...oh fuck...yes...hard...god...oh...oh fuck...god ...fuck...me...oh" Her fists clenched the pillow. She moved her legs closer together, making herself tighter around his cock. He didn't realize it, but the word 'fuck' slipped out from his mouth as he gave one last brutal thrust before exploding inside of her. He stayed pressed against her for a moment, panting, trying to hear anything other than his pulse pounding in his ears. He finally opened his eye and looked at the woman in front of him. He decided he liked the sight, although he was quite curious about the long, thin welted scars that criss-crossed her back. He reached his fingers out and traced one of them, it started half an inch below her ribs and ran down past her waist. He wanted to ask her how she came by them, but instead he said "You're, mm. Bossy."

"It's what made me a good dominatrix," she replied with a shrug. She turned and looked over her shoulder, although she was still blindfolded. "But I can also be very submissive."

Richard didn't entirely believe that, given what he'd seen of her personality this evening.

He slid out of her and climbed off the bed, reaching for his mask and putting it on. "Mm, you can take. The blindfold, mm. Off," he told her as he reached for his clothes and started dressing. He watched her as she pulled the blindfold off, then blindly groped for the nightstand. She had to lean very close to it, her eyes almost completely closed in a squint. Richard reached over and slid her glasses closer to her hand. "You really, mm. Can't see without. Your glasses."

"You didn't believe me? You think I wear them just for fashion?"

"Maybe you, mm. Wear them to look like. Less of, mm a bitch."

Cat was on her feet in an instant, standing right in front of him. Her hand quickly fisted in his hair, and she pulled his head down and back. He felt a strange stab, part fear, part excitement.

"I'm a bitch, huh?" she said in a low voice, her mouth close to his ear. "Come back next Friday at ten, and I'll show you what a bitch I really can be. If you think you can handle it." She quickly let his hair go and stepped past him to her closet. "It'll be fifteen for tonight," she said as she pulled out a robe and slipped into it. Richard finished putting on his clothes, casting glances at her from the corner of his eye, wondering why she intrigued him so. She certainly wasn't like any of the other whores he'd ever been with. Dressed, he pulled his wallet out of his pocket. He pulled out a twenty, glanced at her and saw she wasn't looking at him, grabbed a second bill and folded it inside of the twenty and placed it on the nightstand. "Your money. Mm, is on the table. Good night." He left her room, and the house, taking his time walking home.

He spent the next week working and thinking of her, and when next Friday rolled around, he found himself in front of the whorehouse, standing across the street from it, staring, wondering if he should go in. It wasn't quite yet nine. He still had an hour to make up his mind.

Cat was in her office, paying bills, when one of the girls knocked on her door. "Hey Cat? That guy with the mask is standing across the street, looking over here like he can't figure out what to do."

A smile slowly spread across Cat's face as she stood up. "He'll come in in about an hour," she said. "When he does, send him up to the attic. I should be ready by then." She stepped out of her office and went to her room to prepare.

"A bitch, am I?" she said aloud as she changed clothes. "Oh my dear man, you have no idea." She was quite looking forward to this...