A/N: Thank you for reading! Here's some more smut for your weekend ;)
The next day was a Saturday, her day off from work. Emily woke from the early rays of sunshine seeping in through the window, stretching in bed. When she noticed how very naked she was under the covers, she jumped up in panic, thinking she had gotten drunk and ended up in some stranger's bed.
Looking around the unfamiliar bedroom, the events came flooding back, and she relaxed. John Wick. She was staying with him now. He had fucked her in his hallway like an animal and every muscle in her body felt sore.
The dress she had worn for him was draped over the back of the armchair along with her underwear. She found her bag next to the bed, her car keys and a bottle of water on the nightstand. How thoughtful of him. Her throat was dry and she drank half of it and got up in search of the bathroom.
After her long, hot, relaxing shower with a strong stream of water that pounded every bit of aching flesh in her back - much like John Wick had pounded her aching pussy - she put on an old oversized t-shirt and returned to the bedroom. And came face to face with the cutest pitbull she had ever seen. The dog was lying on her bed and lifted its head curiously at the sight of her.
"Oh, hey... hello, baby. Who are you?" She cooed, reaching her hand out to him. Dog jumped off the bed and trotted towards her, sniffling her hand hesitantly at first and then wiggled his tail. She knelt down and patted him happily, smiling brightly. "Aren't you the sweetest little cutiepie?"
Emily straightened up and made her way downstairs and into the kitchen, Dog padding right behind her. The house seemed silent, no sign of John. She sighed, looking around, and spotted the coffee maker on the counter with a note on it. Peeling off the small yellow piece of paper, she read the words that John had scribbled down in his neat, slightly slanted handwriting, and a smiled spread across her face.
Just like his note had said, she discovered a plate of French Toast in the oven, still warm and crispy.
"What a gentleman. He made breakfast for his mistress. How am I supposed to not fall in love with the man, huh?" She asked Dog with a laugh, shaking her head. Dog lifted his head from his paws, giving her an attentive look in hopes of a snack.
It was still early in the morning, she wondered briefly when the hell John had gotten up and managed to make breakfast as she searched the cupboards for some ground coffee. While she was waiting for the coffee to brew and run through, she leaned against the kitchen island and nibbled on a piece of toast.
Involuntarily, her thoughts drifted back to the night before. She felt his cock deep inside her, stretching her, filling her, heard his deep groans in her ear and felt his hot breath on her skin. She swallowed, clenching her legs at the memory. Surprisingly, her pussy wasn't as sore as she feared, and she grew wet at the prospect of fucking him again.
Emily forced herself to get rid of her dirty thoughts, finish her breakfast and drink her coffee. After she had cleaned up and put the dishes away, she turned to look at Dog who looked back at her with his head cocked. "Where is your owner, doggie? Is he even home?"
As if he had understood, Dog scurried away and she followed him to an open door that led to what appeared to be a basement.
"Oh... okay, well, I shouldn't be bothering him..." She muttered under her breath as she watched Dog climb down the stairs.
In that moment it hit her. She had made a mistake; more than one. She should have let him sleep with her in the guestroom. She was supposed to be at his service every night for the entire night, no matter what he intended to do with her.
And she was still there in his house on a weekend, like a girlfriend. Panicking, Emily looked down at herself, at the old t-shirt that was too big for her and almost came down to her knees. It was the least sexy piece of clothing anyone could possibly imagine; an ex-boyfriend had left it behind and she never got rid of it.
Emily scrambled out of the kitchen and hurried upstairs before they ran into each other.
She wanted to be always hot, pretty and fuckable for him; that was the whole point of their arrangement. She couldn't let him see how scruffy and what a general mess she was in the morning.
Emily muttered a curse to herself, considering her next steps. He wouldn't need her before midnight; she could do whatever she wanted until then. That was the deal. But it was the weekend. On her days off, she would hide in her apartment reading and watching dumb movies, maybe go out for coffee later in the evening. And then party at night at the Red Circle or the Continental if she didn't have to be up early the next day. But the prospect of going back to her apartment and spending the day locked inside, knowing she would have to return to him at midnight, wasn't particularly appealing. She would go mad thinking about John.
Emily stopped her pacing, halting in the middle of the room as an idea came to her mind. A cat-like smile appeared on her face. She got dressed properly and slipped downstairs. Making sure that John was nowhere in sight, she snuck down the hallway and left the house, shutting the door closed behind her as quietly as possible.
Emily went to go shopping for some new, sexy lingerie. She wasn't going to sit around and wait for him to come to her when he felt the need to scratch an itch. She wanted to come to him, to seduce him, and see the amazed look on his face as soon as she stepped into the room. His eyes would fall on her and turn dark at the sight of the flimsy undergarments barely covering her body.
John turned on his stool when he heard Dog shuffle in, grunting quietly.
"Hey, buddy. Is she up?" He asked, scratching him behind his ears. Dog wiggled his tail at him and flopped down near him on the basement floor.
"Good dog." John praised and turned back to his workbench and the old leather-bound book that he was currently restoring. He loved this quiet, peaceful work with his hands; the complete opposite to his loud and violent work with his hands. The task of repairing, creating something instead of killing helped him relax and keep ugly thoughts at bay, though those always tried to creep into his head. It trained him to endure and stay focused, to work with precision for days on end.
After another two hours of work, he decided to take a break. He shuffled upstairs and walked into the kitchen, listening to signs of Emily. He checked every room in search of her, but as he was making his way to her room, he already knew she was gone.
The bed was neatly made, the entire guestroom seemed completely untouched. John sighed heavily, glancing down at Dog. "What d'you think? She left us for good?"
Dog let out a whine, giving him a sad look. He followed John quickly when he left the room to return to the basement.
He worked late into the afternoon on the books, took Dog for a walk and went grocery shopping before he settled in with a book in the living-room to read for a few hours.
Only when Dog asked to be let out into the yard he realized how late it was. The day had flown by. Emily still hadn't come back. He was a little worried, wondering whether she was avoiding him because he scared her. He really hoped she wasn't that afraid of him.
John cooked dinner, but was too agitated to eat much. The silence was deafening. Emily was gone. He decided to take Dog outside again before he had to get ready for his next job.
Emily returned long after dinner to an empty house. John had left the door to the garage unlocked for her; she was relieved. She didn't want for him to see her before midnight. Giddy with excitement, she practically jumped up the stairs to the second floor to transform herself into a temptress.
John found her car parked behind his Mustang in the driveway when he and Dog got back from their walk. He couldn't help the little smile on his face. "She's back, buddy." He muttered quietly to the pitbull as they walked through the door.
He took a seat at the kitchen counter. Watching Dog gobble down his food and listening to Emily's soft footsteps upstairs, he tried to ground himself, but it was no use. He pulled up his sleeve to look at the time on his wristwatch.
His quiet day was over. Two hours until he had to move out for his next kill; the familiar tingle of anticipation that he got each time before a hunt set in.
Emily took a bath, dried her hair, slipped into her new set of underwear and put make up on. Looking at herself in the mirror, she checked her appearance one last time. She looked innocent yet devilish in the soft pink and black lace, topped off with a garter belt and black stockings and killer four inch heels.
It had been a while since she had felt the need to dress for a man, to wear something outrageous and scanty with the sole purpose of being wanted. But Emily had never worn something so provocative for a man before, and she loved it. With John, she felt the urge to be bold.
Hearing him downstairs, she quickly put on her silk robe, but left it untied, and followed the noise.
"Good evening, Mr Wick." She purred, strolling confidently into the kitchen, but froze in place at the sight of him.
Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes widened. He was naked. Standing at the kitchen island with his back to her. His sexy, broad, muscular and tattooed back. Hair still wet from his shower, a few drops of water glistening on his skin.
Emily thought she would faint right there on the spot from lack of oxygen like a dainty little Victorian Lady. John turned to her slowly, raising an eyebrow. Seeing her in nothing but a skimpy and seductive set of lingerie, he growled low in his throat and beckoned her closer to him. His hunting instincts had taken over and she was the perfect opportunity to relieve some stress before the job.
"Did you miss me today, Mr Wick? - "
"Get on your knees, kitten." He interrupted her harshly, dark eyes staring her down.
She looked at him in shock at first, but then quickly complied. He seemed different, heat and tension radiating off of him.
She dropped to her knees, doing as she was told, and looked up at him, waiting for his next command. John groaned low in his throat; she looked so confused and innocent. So sweet and pretty.
His large hand was warm and heavy on her shoulder. He caressed her skin slowly at first, fingers moving over her neck and tangling in her hair. She shuddered, feeling him gathering the long strands of her hair in his fist and tugging sharply, making her whimper.
"Mr Wick...?" She gasped meekly.
"Don't play dumb. You know what I want." His tone was cold, voice strained. He could be rough and stern, but he had never talked to her like that before. Worst of all, it affected her; his gruffness turned her on.
She glanced from his eyes to his half-hard cock in front of her and licked her palm, closing her fingers around him. Quickly, she stroked him to full hardness, teasing his balls with her other hand. He hissed and let out the occasional groan when her thumb swiped over the head of his cock, but never closed his eyes. He was looking down at her intensely, watching her the whole time.
Emily moved her hand up and down his length slowly, twisting her wrist and applying more pressure on the downward stroke. He was rock-hard in her grip, her hand and fingers seemed small around his thickness; the muscles in his abdomen were straining. She couldn't resist any longer.
Leaning in, Emily licked a drop of water off his hip bone, tracing its wet path with the tip of her tongue . She continued to place wet open-mouthed kisses along his abdomen, reaching around with her free hand and squeezing his ass. She shot him a challenging look, before she licked the long scar on his stomach, sinking her teeth into his navel playfully.
"Enough, kitten. Give me your mouth." John snarled, tugging at her hair to get her off of him.
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry." She whispered with a grin, shifting on her knees and closing her lips around him.
She let him sink into her mouth, flattening her tongue and repressing her gag reflex, and hollowed her cheeks immediately since he seemed so impatient and on edge. Bobbing her head, she sucked him down as far as she could and moaned around him. He was big and hot in her mouth, heavy on her tongue. She could practically taste his pulse.
He clenched his jaw and moaned deep in his throat, now both his hands on her. One still buried in her hair, the other gripping the back of her neck not too gently.
She whimpered and clenched her thighs. Her panties were soaked through. He was using her and it made her weak, dizzy.
She gripped his thigh with one hand for better balance. Her jaw was starting to hurt, but she still moved further down on him, managing to get more of him down her throat as her hand worked the rest of his length.
"Fuck... that's it. Good girl." John growled, pulling her mouth off of him. "I want to cum inside you."
Emily sucked hard on his head one last time and released him with a wet noise. He pulled her up to him roughly, cupping her cheek to look at her as she licked her lips. Her face and chest were flushed, her breathing a little heavy. His eyes drifted automatically to her barely-covered breasts in the thin bra.
"Let me see how wet you are." John grumbled, almost annoyed with her, and lifted her up onto the counter, pulling her hips towards the edge.
"Mr Wick..." Emily gasped, quickly grabbing onto his biceps.
John slipped his hands over her silky, stocking-covered legs and placed a light slap to one of her inner thighs. "What is this, little girl? I told you not to bother with underwear." Hooking one finger underneath the strap that was connecting the garter belt with one of her stockings, he pulled it back and let go of it, causing it to smack painfully against the flesh of her thigh. Emily flinched, a little mewl escaping her at the sting and spark tingling in her lower body.
"So-sorry, sir, Mr Wick..." She whimpered her apology softly, but the smile on her face contradicted her words.
He smirked, pushing the wet sheer material of her thin panties aside and spreading her folds with the head of his cock. He eased into her torturously slow and she whined, clawed at his back, and squirmed. It stung since she was still sore from the pounding she had received the night before.
John cursed, breathing heavily, eyes glazed over, turning dark at the heat and wetness of her snug pussy. His thumbs swiped over the perky nipples poking through the lace before he cupped her breasts with his large palms, giving them a rough squeeze.
"I'm gonna have to punish you when I get back..." He taunted, a devilish smirk on his face.
Emily's eyes widened, she wondered what kind of punishment he had in mind... Spanking? The thought made her shiver.
"What are you gonna do, Mr Wick?" She whispered seductively, trying to play it off and not show how excited she was. "Take me over your knee?"
He ignored her teasing words. With a little, amused grin he pulled out of her and slid back in, causing her to close her eyes with a deep moaning sigh. John started moving inside her steadily, slipping his hands under her ass and pulling her hips towards each of his thrusts. He pressed his mouth on hers, muffling her whines and whimpers as he kissed her.
"You like to provoke me, my little girl..." John growled in her ear and pulled her robe down to suck his mark into the juncture of her neck and shoulder. "You want me to fuck you hard, is that right, baby?"
Emily clung onto him desperately, suddenly a little scared. He sounded impatient, angry with her. His thrusts got rougher, harder, and when she feared she couldn't take it much longer and had to ask him to stop, he crushed her to him and she felt his hot cum filling her as he spilled into her with a deep growl.
John breathed into her hair, placing wet sloppy kisses all over her face as he kept his tight grip on her. His hand pushed between their bodies, his thumb pressing to her clit, but she grabbed his wrist. "No, John. Please, don't. I can't come."
"Oh, I'm sure you can. You've come four times for me last night, baby." John's voice was smooth velvet, coaxing her into trusting him.
He pried her hold off of him and took both her wrists into one hand so she wouldn't fight him as he slowly, carefully started drawing circles around her clit. She gasped and whimpered, biting down on her bottom lip. John was still standing between her thighs, still inside her, so she couldn't close her legs as her hips jerked against his hand.
"You're dripping for me, kitten. Look at me." He demanded when she wanted to hide her face in his chest.
She did as she was told and looked up into his dark brown eyes, sank into their depths, and with a few flicks of his thumb, she was spasming around his softening length and coming so hard it almost hurt.
He let go of her wrists and she wound her arms loosely around him, dropping her head to his shoulder. "Fuck... what the fuck was that, John?"
He stroked through her hair, down her back and pulled the silk robe back up her shoulders. "I have to go." He announced unexpectedly, gruffly. Emily lifted her head to look at him and when she saw his face she knew what he meant. She remembered that he was an assassin and had to go kill people. She swallowed nervously.
"Thanks for the fuck, kitten." He pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek and stepped back, finally slipping out of her.
She smiled softly at him, but it didn't reach her eyes. His tension had sprung over from him to her. John turned around, disappeared out the kitchen and left her sitting on the counter, not giving her a chance to think of something to say to make it better.
Emily was drying herself with a towel after a quick wash when she felt his eyes on her, burning through her. Turning around, she met John's dark, intense gaze. He was leaning in the doorway to the bathroom; she had left the door open, thinking he had already left.
She was trapped.
He was dressed in his tailored three-piece suit, his hair slicked back. Devilishly handsome. A God of Death, born to hunt and kill.
John's eyes roamed over her body, lips slightly parted. Emily clutched the towel to her chest, trembling. She was completely naked, no make-up or sexy underwear as a shield against him. He looked ready to pounce on her. Again.
"I'll be back in a couple days." He said quietly, his voice a deep rumble. "There's a spare key, you can come and go as you please while I'm gone."
Emily nodded weakly and paused, making sure to have control over her voice before speaking. "What about the dog? Are you taking him with you?"
John shook his head. "I'm leaving him at the Continental."
"I can look after him if you want."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah... it'll be nice to have some company."
"He's a good boy, he won't cause you any trouble." John said with a smile, following her movements with his gaze.
"I know. He's a sweet little baby." Emily walked over to the sink, trying her best to keep the conversation light and ignore his presence as she turned her back on him. She made a move to sling the towel around her body to cover her nakedness, but the sudden sound of his voice stopped her.
"Don't." John commanded, stepping into the bathroom. Instinctively, Emily backed away from him.
He yanked the towel from her grasp and tossed it aside, causing Emily to turn away from him. But then his chest pressed to her naked back as he came up behind her, his hot breath ghosting over her still damp skin.
John wrapped his arm around her waist and placed a light kiss to her temple. He heard her suck in a breath and smirked. She squirmed a little against his hold, clearly uncomfortable with him so close. Not able to resist temptation, he lifted his arm from around her waist and closed his thick fingers around her throat, making her let out a gasp.
"Your cunt is mine now." He growled into her ear. "Behave while I'm gone, sweetheart. Don't talk with strangers."
His possessive words were laced with a hint of aggressiveness and he tightened his grip, squeezing her neck lightly to emphasize that he was not joking. Emily mewled, grabbing onto his forearm. Her pussy clenched, a surge of wetness covering her folds.
"Yes, sir..." She managed to utter hoarsely and closed her eyes, leaning into him.
John felt a shudder run through her body at his touch; she rubbed the back of her head against his chest, her ass pressed firmly to his front as she whined softly.
"What, baby?" He pressed a wet kiss to her cheek, applying more pressure on her neck once again. "You like this?"
Emily swallowed hard, whimpering softly. John felt her throat constricting against the hold of his hand and cursed quietly as his own body started reacting to the way her small, weak frame pushed and pressed into him.
He lifted his left hand to her breasts, pinching one nipple roughly and causing another sweet sound to spill from her lips.
"Please... Mr Wick..." She stood on her tip-toes and turned her head, nuzzling his neck and breathing in his already all too familiar cologne. "Please..."
Her pussy ached, slick and swollen for him in no time yet again. John kept swirling his thumb over one nipple, completely ignoring the stiff little nub of her other breast. His hand was still around her throat, keeping her in place. She was dizzy with lust, desperate for more of his touch.
"Please, what, baby?" John rasped into her hair, sliding his fingers down her stomach agonizingly slow, teasing over her mound. He stopped right before reaching her wet, throbbing clit and caressed back up to her breasts. "Tell me what you want, little girl."
"Touch me, Mr Wick... please... please, Mr Wick, sir..."
"I am touching you, darling." He taunted, kneading one full mound of her breast with his large palm.
Through the haze of her lust-clouded mind, Emily perceived his mocking and amused tone and wondered what had gotten into him. But she liked this intense, rough and slightly mean side of him.
"Say the words, baby." John inhaled the scent of her shampoo with a groan, feeling his cock twitch when she shivered against him and let out another one of those soft whines that made him want to fuck her hard.
"John..." She moaned his name, not able to say it out loud.
"Tell me..." He tensed and hesitated, knowing he was taking a risk. Maybe his words would turn her off completely, though all the signs that she would be into it were there. "Tell me what you want me to do to you, my little slut."
Emily dug her nails deeper into his forearm, letting out a shuddering breath against his neck. She bit down on her bottom lip hard, fighting the urge to say daddy. She didn't know how John would take it and she would die of embarrassment if that word was to ever slip past her lips.
"Mr Wick... sir..." She moaned instead, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm so wet... please, touch my pussy, sir... please..."
A wolfish grin spread across his face, he chuckled darkly at her reaction. John tilted her head to the side, sucking and biting a deep mark into her neck. Emily whimpered, mewling so loudly as if he were already inside her, pounding her deep and hard. He shoved his hand roughly between her thighs, his fingers sliding through her wet folds and then pushing easily into her tight cunt.
Emily chocked, arching her back. "Oh God... sir... fuck..."
"Soaking wet, baby..." He groaned into her ear, rubbing his fingers hard against the sensitive spot inside her. "Desperate and needy... such a slut for me, always ready to be used, right?"
He pulled his fingers back and added his ring finger, pushing back into her and stretching her with three thick fingers, the heel of his hand pressing against her swollen clit as he gave her neck another light squeeze.
"John!" She cried out, clinging onto him, panting. "Too much... I can't... can't take it..."
"You can't take it, my little girl?" John growled, pulling at her earlobe with his teeth, his deep, warm chuckle vibrating against her skin as his thick fingers moved steadily in and out of her and stimulated her most sensitive spots. "You've been begging for it like a good little whore and now you're saying you can't take it?"
Her walls clenched, more wetness coating his hand, and he knew she was close. He withdrew his fingers from her tight heat and started drawing harsh, fast circles into her wet clit.
Emily cried out, hips jerking and writhing against his hand as sparks of electricity flooded her body. John kept his grip on her neck, holding her naked, trembling form against his big, broad chest.
"I should leave you here like this, without an orgasm." John threatened, his voice deep and husky, pure velvet. "And not allow you to touch yourself while I'm gone. How would you like that, baby? If you can't take it, you don't get to come, simple as that."
Emily couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. She was so turned on, she could probably come without him touching her; his dirty words alone would do the job. She tried shaking her head. "No... no, sir, please... please don't..."
John stopped his torture on her clit abruptly and let go of her neck, but grabbed her upper arm roughly and pulled her out of the bathroom. He dragged her with him through the hallway and into his bedroom, giving her a little shove, and she landed with a bounce on her back in the middle of the bed.
Emily watched him open his belt and pull it out of the loops with swift, urgent and slightly impatient movements. His eyes were intense, black with lust as he stared her down, never letting her out of his sight. He was barely keeping it together, she could tell.
"This is gonna be a quick, hard fuck, kiska." He growled menacingly, pulling his pants and boxers down to his thighs and kneeling on the edge of the bed. "I don't care if you come."
"Jesus... Mr Wick..." She breathed out, feeling goosebumps form and the little hairs on her skin stand up.
He was rock-hard, already leaking pre-cum and she licked her lips, laughing softly.
He grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her roughly to him, hooking her right leg over his forearm. She gave him a dirty grin, seeing the playful glint in the dark depths of his eyes. Easily, he slid into her with a deep groan, making her tilt her head back into the mattress.
"Oh fuck, yes, baby..." She was dazed, completely blissed out already.
John didn't give her time to adjust. He pulled back slowly, slamming right in again and making her cry out. His hand moved up her exposed throat, his fingers wrapping around her jaw.
He kept a steady rhythm, thrusting into her hard, but withdrawing slowly and driving her crazy as she felt every inch of him drag along her tight walls. He was growling and grunting, breathing hotly against her face with every thrust into her, his thumb and fingers curling painfully against her jaw and forcing her to keep looking into his eyes as he fucked her.
Emily moaned and whimpered helplessly, so close to her orgasm. When she dipped her hand between their bodies and started rubbing her clit fast, he let her.
A growl rumbled in his chest when her cunt tightened on him. He muttered a curse. His hips faltered and stuttered, his thrusts becoming sloppy as his orgasm approached.
John leaned his forehead against hers and squeezed his eyes shut with a deep groan. Emily whimpered when she felt his cock throb and pulse and his hot seed splashing her walls. She circled her clit a little harder and her release washed through her as she came right after him, spasming and contracting around his length.
John pressed his lips on hers, kissing her hungrily. Dirty moans sounded low in his throat as he devoured her.
"You're a good little girl." He praised, placing one last kiss to her lips before standing up.
Emily breathed heavily as she tried to regain composure, her head spinning. She followed him with her eyes when he walked over to his nightstand and yanked a few tissues out of the box to clean himself up. He cursed quietly under his breath as he closed his pants and straightened his suit, making her giggle. She had never heard him cuss and grumble so much.
John whipped around, piercing her with his eyes. Emily stopped laughing. Since he was still standing there before her, looking down at her, she took the chance and spread her legs wide for him. He saw his cum leaking from her and dripping down her folds.
She gave him a sweet, innocent smile and slipped her small hand down to her pussy, caressing over her folds and spreading his creamy release over the entire length of her cunt.
John rubbed a hand over his mouth in slight irritation and arousal, but kept his eyes on her. Emily bit her lip and pushed two fingers inside her with a deep sigh, scooping up the rest of his seed, and pulling her fingers back out. She watched him intently as she popped her fingers covered in his cum into her mouth and slowly licked them clean, making loud, sucking noises.
"You taste so delicious, Mr Wick." She whispered hoarsely, a bright smile on her face.
"Sweetheart..." John stood before her, shaking his head in disbelief. "Do not touch your cunt until I'm back. Understood?"
Emily froze, her smile fading. "Are you serious?" It had never occurred to her that he would be into controlling her that way.
"You've crossed a line, kitten." John snarled, raising his eyebrows.
"But - " Emily wanted to protest with a huff, but the look on his face made her stop. "Yes, sir. I understand. I won't touch myself."
"Good girl." He leaned down and pinched her ass playfully, and then left the bedroom.
Emily leaned back with a heavy sigh, shivering. It had been a crazy night. John had fucked her like a man possessed; first in the kitchen, then the rough fingering in the bathroom, and now the quick fuck in his bedroom.
She could only wonder what he was going to do to her once he came back from his kill. If he came back...