Ambrose's usual whore was a tough blonde who understood his…proclivities. But tonight, after three long, sleepless nights, he required a different kind of release.
He placed a proper kiss on her outstretched hand – it wouldn't do to offend her – before moving on towards a girl he'd been watching for the last week or so. She was tall and willowy, with long brown hair and blue eyes.
She was impossible to distinguish from Molly, at least from the back. And that was the only angle he cared about this evening.
He could see the fear in her face as he approached her, and it made him smile. His reputation preceded him. The amount of money he flashed in front of her eyes quickly made her ignore her instincts, and he was very shortly being led up to her room.
She attempted to shove him down on the bed and straddle him, but he quickly moved away. Standing and pulling her to her feet, he turned her away from him and pressed against her back. He closed his eyes and forced himself to be gentle, in spite of the sudden urge to speed up.
Pulling her hair away from the nape of her neck, he dotted soft kisses along her skin while his hands lightly cupped her breasts.
"Mmm," the girl moaned, wriggling her hips against him.
His lip curled up in disgust. "Just…let me take the lead," he said, still trying to be kind.
"Of course, baby," she replied, attempting to insert a note of seduction into her voice. "We'll do whatever you want."
"Don't talk," he murmured, pushing her head to the side to allow him better access to her neck.
He closed his eyes again and attempted to play out his fantasy. It worked for a short while, and he began to slowly undress the woman in front of him.
That's when things went all wrong.
She moved too much, she moaned too loudly, her hips moved in ways that were completely unbelievable – and not in a good way.
He tried. He truly did.
"Please," he said, panting, "just lie still."
"You want me to act like I don't know a thing?" She'd asked, indignant as she craned her neck back to look at him. "You want me to act like some clueless virgin?"
"Yes," he replied desperately.
She laughed. "You do know you're in a whorehouse."
He pulled away from her, agitated. This quickly turned into a cold anger. "I know precisely where I am," he replied calmly. "Do you remember with whom you are speaking?"
He saw her eyes flash with fear once more, and after a tense moment she nodded.
"Good. Then I don't expect any further trouble from you. Just lie there," he snapped.
She finally did what she was told, but the moment – which he'd truly only had the most tenuous of holds on – slipped away.
He had a mediocre orgasm, finishing as quickly as he could and throwing the promised amount of money at the girl.
It was no use, he realized as he dressed.
There was simply no acceptable substitute for what he needed.
"Fucking hell, Molly," he muttered angrily. "Fucking hell."