Chapter 21: Crucial Musing

A/N: This chapter is domestic as fuck with a small portion of John's perspective in the middle. I know y'all wanted more kinky sex from the before but I'm trying hold off on the really explicit stuff for now. Hopefully, you can forgive me with this and the next chapter - it'll definitely be over 10k and worth the wait. Thank you all for reading!


November 23rd, Tuesday - 10:08am:

Okay so...this is nice.

So far, you've been totally accepting of your amourous lover's attention.

John was leaned flush against you, your lips met habitually in a sensual dance. The hired gun's tongue slid expertly over your top and bottom lip. His tentative, wet muscle slipping up and over your less agile one. The kissing had been going on for the last twenty minutes with no talking, just the sound of lips smacking permeating through the air. John was kissing you like every crevice of your mouth belonged to him. You're afraid your jaw might lock up soon. The way he kisses and intertwines his tongue with yours has so much depth to it. He didn't even have to coax your mouth open, you were automatically wired to do so.

The intense kissing session only served to make you more horny than you can handle being. Each point of contact is deep and lingering, making you hungry for more. With him overtaking your mouth, it would take nothing for things to escalate further to the point of him slipping inside you again and doing even more damage than before. And you would probably let him even in your current state.

There was an unspoken agreement to abstain from sex until the aching in your lower half recedes. While he hadn't gone further than a few touches and kisses here and there, John just couldn't seem to keep his hands and mouth off of you. You knew deep down that he craved a repeat of the illicit activities from two nights ago. The sex only stopped because you'd become delirious almost to the point of fainting.

You not being able to do much but sleep for the following two days must've concerned him enough. Today was actually the first day where you didn't sleep until late afternoon. Being treated with such gentleness and catered to made girlish butterflies flutter excitedly within your stomach. You could stay in bed all day especially when he's clearly set in pampering you like a child. Not that it's an issue. You love being under him.

You gasped, your train of thought disrupted as John gently pulled your tank top down and started lavishing your chest. You hadn't seen fit to put on a bra after your shower so access was made easy for him. You couldn't help but release short aroused breaths, head lulled back at the heated ministrations. He was being very gentle about mouthing at the generous swell of your breasts, your nipples hardening almost immediately. You stifled a moan as the feeling sent a rush of heat down into your belly, smoothing a hand over the man's dark, silky tresses.

For obvious reasons, you didn't know what went into proper aftercare after engaging in anal sex. During the time, the sex was pleasurable but now you're left with the uncomfortable stretching feeling in your rear. The pain wasn't too excessive but you did experience some bleeding that freaked you out. The only other time you bled during sexual intercourse was when you lost your virginity. You even pulled out your phone to google whether or not the bleeding was normal. And you're the type to think you would bleed out and die after googling your symptoms. Luckily John turned into a whole nurse that was good enough to quell your concerns. When it comes to butt sex, you're not sure what your limit is but you know it's not normal to hurt simply chalked it up to mere inexperience. With enough practice, pain would no longer be a factor.

Regardless, all you gathered was that it would possibly take anywhere from a few days to a week to heal and that your first few bowel movements were going to be extremely uncomfortable. While John was gentle the first go around, sometimes things like this just can't be helped. This can be classified as your first real sex related injury which is kind of embarrassing. In the end, you resorted to popping some Advil and sleeping days away like it was normal. Most of your movements were relegated strictly to the bed.

The cream John applied seemed to have some numbing properties and was doing its part in helping you recover. You remembered how your cheeks burned with mortification as the man rubbed the ointment in and around your sore hole. Frankly, you don't even know if you should be embarrassed given the fact that his entire mouth has been there twice. The act should be easier the next time and that wasn't just you making an know full well that John hadn't gotten his fill of you just from one night of experimentation. You're fairly certain that if he had his way, anal intercourse would soon become a regular staple between you and your deviant lover. He even took careful consideration not to ejaculate inside so the clean up would be less difficult and complicated.

Sex is absolutely not possible in this circumstance and you don't think him kissing you senseless and sucking your nipples is going to help in this case. It's not really like you to get lost in a train of thought while he devours your tit.

The scent of male musk and hint of his cologne had you fully intoxicated as you cradled his head into your breasts. Your heartbeat tentatively underneath your ribs at a slightly fast pace and you couldn't ignore the dampening of your panties as a result. You moaned quietly as a tongue dragged across your sensitive nipples, lashes fluttering closed. He flicked over both nipples before laving the peaks with a gentle suck thereafter. Before you could fall into an even deeper haze of pleasure, you gently moved your upper half out of reach. John's gaze swiftly meets yours.

There was something on your mind that you wanted to discuss.

"Am I still on house arrest?"

"Where is it that you wish to go?"

"Well, the girls invited me out for brunch later on."

"You may go." He answers in a soft, calm tone.

Your eyebrows furrowed together. "Really? I was sure you would say no."

"Would you like me to reconsider my answer?"

"No. I'm okay."

"I must know where you are at all times."

You shrugged. "That's fine with me."

"So I can go places, I have to get permission first?"

He merely glanced at you, providing the answer without really vocalizing it.

You can agree to the terms, especially since you know why they were set in place. You're not stupid. The only reason the restrictions have been limited was that John was back home and not on assignment.

"Okay. That's fine with me." You softly assented.

It's honestly better than not being able to go anywhere in the first place.

The man ceased his actions when the doorbell rang, alerting you both to a guest. John made one last pass over your swollen lips before he pulled away to go tend to whomever was downstairs waiting.

You sighed, grabbed your phone from the nightstand, shooting a quick text to the group chat to let them know you would be making an appearance. Truth be told, you'd probably be out mingling with the girls if your ass didn't feel like it would fall out if you moved wrong. Soon after the screen lit up with a call notification from your mother.

She wanted to know when you'd be making an appearance since she'd already pulled the croc pots out of storage and started prepping for Thanksgiving. With everything that was going on you'd completely forgotten that holiday was approaching. You could hear your father in the background loudly complaining about charcoal. If you had to guess, he was planning to throw something on the grill. Nowadays that was probably all he thought about since the only thing he could cook in the kitchen was boiled eggs. Nothing more.

You always helped her prepare the food, which usually took about two to three days at most. The kitchen would be chaotic until the day of Thanksgiving. For the most part, you liked to watch how she perfected the food with your grandmother's recipes that were passed down to each generation. Cooking the food was a lot of work that took an inordinate amount of time and you used to hate being woken up early to assist your mother while she bustled around the kitchen. You can almost taste the sweet smelling yams. You want to do the birdman hand rub just thinking about it.

When you asked how many were coming up, she explained that some of your aunts, uncles, and a few cousins are expected to come through. So literally everyone. You haven't seen most of them since the family reunion in June of last year. In all seriousness, you didn't know if you were capable of dealing with family in your current condition but it looked like you didn't have much of a choice.

When the call ended you heaved a knowing sigh.

Regardless, lots of people were going to be at the house, some might even spend the night there, meaning you could retreat back to John's house whenever. Hell, you planned to dip out when it came time to wash the dishes anyway. Speaking of John, you wondered how he planned to celebrate the upcoming holiday if he did at all.

You remember how he basically admitted that he had virtually no family. You could not in good conscience leave him alone during such a festive, family-oriented holiday. That would be cruel on your part taking into account all he's gone out of his way to do for you. Literally, no one deserves to be alone on a holiday like Thanksgiving. Your family is wild at times but they were also some of the most welcoming people in the world. They wouldn't have a problem with him being around. Well, your father would. You shuddered at the thought of your father's reaction to you bringing a man to meet him. Since you were thirteen, your father had already vehemently expressed that he had no intention of liking anyone you brought home. Your father would hate John for life should he ever find out about the things the man does to you behind closed doors.

In the grand scheme of things, you think it's the ethical consideration that was likely brought on by your emotional attachment to him. Your feelings were deeply invested in what you have with him and that was shocking considering it wasn't supposed to get this deep. You almost couldn't believe it - how you accidentally fell in love with him.

Once you finally leave the bed, it takes you twenty minutes to get ready, a new record. You chose to wear the cute pink jumpsuit that had been sitting in your closet for months that was probably more suitable for spring instead of winter. In fact, you don't know what possessed you to take it out. Your braids were pulled into a high ponytail and you applied the tiniest foundation and lip gloss. That was the extent of your beatification this morning.

You're walking a little slower, everything below your waist is too stiff to do any unnecessary moving - you even had to hold onto the rail as you descended the stairs. As you grab the tan colored cardigan hanging over a chair and slip it on, Sweetface comes around the corner with his favorite toys caught in his mouth. Clearly he intends to initiate a game of fetch. Sadly, you don't have time to indulge him so you settle for a nice head scratch instead.

Now where did his owner run off to?

You were halfway out the door with your purse when you spotted John talking in the distance with another man who was puffing on a cigarette. You wrapped the cardigan tighter around yourself.

You'd never seen the man before so he caught you by surprise.

Judging by the look on the man's face he wasn't expecting to see you there either. You couldn't convey your confusion enough with your gaze but you knew John could decipher it nonetheless. He merely stared at you with a neutral expression but he spoke to you with his eyes. It's a communication thing you'd become accustomed to in the time you'd known him.

Could he possibly be an associate of John's? Or perhaps, something more close like a friend?

Frankly, you weren't sure if your lover had anyone he could call a friend. You knew next to nothing of John's social conventions. Was it possible for him to value human connection besides yours?

All conversation seems to cease when you come into view.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt…" You started.

"Not at all." He extends a calloused hand towards you. "Aurelio. I'm an old friend of John's."

You offered your name with a smile, obliging him in a formal handshake, while quietly looking over at your lover to gauge his reaction. His countenance was one of placidity and he appeared mostly indifferent to the situation. "It's nice to meet you."

Afterward, you glanced over to your lover. "I'll be back later on. I'm going for brunch with the girls."

You walked down the path to your car, not bothering to expect any google kisses or form of affection from your lover at this juncture. You doubted he would tongue you down in front of his company. You felt slightly anxious as the men watched you get in and pull out of the driveway.


Under normal circumstances, when the hitman speaks to Aurelio, it's usually held over the phone or during a friendly visit to the mechanic's shop. So for the latter to make a personal visit to his place of residence entailed something entirely different. The man already had a feeling about what the visit was regarding before the other even opened his mouth.

"Seeing your place never gets old...even if it's secluded as hell."

"Aurelio." John greeted.

The two men shared a handshake.

"There's rumors going around you know...about the Dmitriev Organization. Heard you did a job for them recently."

Aurelio continued speaking after pausing to take a long pull of his cigarette. "They're restless. Apparently looking for someone who supposedly took out one of their trafficking operations a couple weeks back. Heard they lost a lot of money."

John said nothing, his mien unchanging.

"They've been combing around for information, trying to learn anything they can about who it might be."

The shorter man snorted before it ebbed off into a chuckle. "Guy must be a piece of work. Not that many people could take down over twenty armed men and leave nothing left."

One of John's brows lifted for a moment before it settled back into place. The intel from the man wasn't needed but he took it in nevertheless.

"Hey how's that car I got for you a few weeks back? It giving you any sort of trouble?" The man asked, turning slightly to lookover the Audi parked neatly up the curved driveway leading up to the house.

"No, it's fine."

The mechanic shook his head. "I gotta say, I was a little surprised at the choice. I couldn't see a guy like you driving-"

At the stunned look on the mechanic's features, John followed the man's gaze over past his own shoulder to spot you just stepping out of the front door. To him, you appeared somewhat apprehensive and unsure of what to do once it became clear that you'd been spotted by his acquaintance. Whatever the case, it couldn't be helped.

He stood quietly as you and the other exchanged introductions before you went on your way. Truthfully, he hadn't expected you to leave the house so soon after he'd given the okay. He thought long and hard over whether or not to allow you to venture outside of the house before ultimately deciding on what he perceived to be the right course of action. And that was to allow you your freedom.

Try as he might, he could not keep you confined to a handful of places, such a thing wasn't ethical. As danger can amass from anywhere, even his own home. He knew that firsthand - a hit squad had been sent to his house to kill him during his spat with Viggo. In spite of that, other precautions will be put into place to ensure your safety, though admittedly, he despised having to take such a route.

As anticipated, Aurelio regarded him with a confused and questioning stare, a flush had crept up his neck and John's gaze hardened. "John?"


Since the weather was like it was, you and the girls opted to sit inside the restaurant where there was still a nice view of the bustling city. All you're really concerned about is drowning your chicken and waffles in maple syrup and wolfing it down. It should be a crime to be as hungry as you are and you're not willing to maintain any sort of conversation until you've eaten. You really liked the restaurant too, everything on the menu looked good. You even got a side of French toast.

Alexis didn't specifically choose the place just because she heard that they served good food, she chose it because of the drinks. The strongness of the drink you ordered makes your stomach turn. The smell of the alcohol in your mimosa ends up being too strong for you to handle and you order regular orange juice. Since you already made a promise to yourself that you'd cut back on your drinking anyway, it wasn't much of a problem.

Jasmine ordered her a margarita alongside the mimosa and you almost blanched.

"Lex you need to slow down on these drinks, I'm not dragging your ass out of here." Jasmine sternly advised.

"Mr. Man let you come out of the house...what?"

"Girl shut up. I got his permission."

"Permission!?" Both women exclaimed.

"Uh yeah." You repeated.

Alexis' mouth curved into a teasing smile. "Since when do you need a man's say so to do anything?"

"Girl are you sick or something?" Jasmine asked, placing the back of her hand to your forehead.

You push her hand away, rolling your eyes. "No. We're just on really good terms now."

"So you stopped tripping and probably got your ass ate...who would've thought?" Alexis spoke in a congratulatory tone. "A good ass eating does sound good right about now."

"No, that's not what I meant. Well he's done that before but…"

You tell your friends almost everything but you could admit that you were hesitant to reveal something so private.

"What you talking about then?"

"We...um. We did butt stuff." You whispered quietly.

The statement definitely captured their full attention as both women leaned in closely, faces more serious than before. They both seemed to be holding their breath.

"What kind of butt stuff? He stick it in? Like inside?"

You shifted uncomfortably, seeking to alleviate the aching from sitting for too long. "...yeah."

Your friends gasped like old southern white women when someone insulted them. "No…" Jasmine replied.

"Is that why you had that fucked up walk in the parking lot?" Alexis asked, eyes as round as dinner plates.

"My god, I'll never look at you the same!"

"See me..I would be riding around in somebody's wheelchair." Alexis explained. "What was it like? Did it hurt?"

"I can't lie, I expected Alexis to try some shit like that but not you."

Alexis scrunched up her face upon hearing that. "Bitch ain't shit going up this here ass and you can believe that! My asshole ain't made of iron."

"Stop talking so loud!" You hissed. You didn't want the nearby patrons to hear the topic of conversation so you quickly sought to change it. "So I'm thinking of inviting him to my folks house for thanksgiving."

"Oh for real? Oh shit that's a major step forward like boyfriend-girlfriend stuff." Alexis regarded you with a surprised but questioning glare.

"Yeah so?" You shrugged.

"That ain't yo man remember?"

"Well stuff changes."

"...stuff like him sticking his dick in your butt?" Alexis snorted into her glass of drink while Jasmine stifled a giggle behind her hand.

"Fuck y'all okay. That man be fucking the shit outta me! What am I supposed to do? I haven't even asked him yet and I don't know if he'll say yes. I'm not even sure if he's the 'take him home to meet the parent kind of guy'."

"Well since you haven't asked him, my advice would be to try and ease it up on him. Maybe work it into a conversation y'all are having beforehand. And don't make it seem like you're pressuring him either."

The woman downed another glass of drink before she stated, "I don't understand why he would say no in the first place. He better go over there and get some of those greens your mama be making. I know I am."

Jasmine regarded you with a calm but earnest gaze. "It could be that he's not ready either. That's something you might have to take into consideration."


It's almost comical, how you're standing in front of the oven watching the cinnamon rolls cook like an excited child. Since you were a little girl, you always loved the smell of warm, gooey batch cinnamon rolls. To be fair, the cinnamon rolls were just knocking about the refrigerator about to go bad waiting to be served on a cold night with some chili but you figured you could always go out and buy more. Clearly, you have no self-control when it comes to food.

Since you tore through the two dozen cookies John had personally delivered to the house for you, you've been craving some kind of sweets to sate your massively annoying sweet tooth. You were much too embarrassed to ask him to order more when you ate them all in such a short amount of time. Not to mention those waffles you had for brunch earlier were still on your mind. You could wait to stuff your face with the sweet bread rolls. It should be about five more minutes until they're done.

While you wait a bit too impatiently, you lean back into the island counter, your mind is automatically bombarded with thoughts from the earlier conversation you had with the girls about possibly inviting John to spend Thanksgiving with you and your family.

"It could be that he's not ready either. That's something you might have to take into consideration."

Could Jasmine be right in her presumption about John?

You've known John well enough to know he's a bit of a recluse that didn't get out much except to travel for work. To you, it's kind of sad. Although he probably didn't have a problem with it as he finds solace in solitude. You wanted to change that if it's within your power - if he deems it permissible.

Apart from that, it's still the internal struggle of wondering if you were within your rights to ask him. You just hope you're not asking too much of him this soon. Similarly, would you introduce him as a friend or something more intimate?

You can't see him agreeing to such a crucial yet incredibly personal undertaking. John isn't the typical man you would bring to meet the parents. It's a bizarre concept, you bring a literal killer home to your parents. Though him potentially meeting your parents shouldn't be an out of bounds thing. You just told the man you loved him during sex the other night. What you have with him is pretty serious. The proof is in the pudding.

What possessed you to think of such an idea in the first place?

When you open your eyes, the man in question is standing in the doorway regarding you with a calm expression.

"Do you want a cinnamon roll?" You humorously inquired, knowing he didn't eat much sweets. It was mainly an attempt to add levity and calm your frazzled nerves.

He said nothing, merely studying your expression.

You started inspecting the handle of the oven, needing to focus your gaze elsewhere to pose the question. You just couldn't look at him. "Hey um...before I left I wanted to talk with you about something."

A nervous lump lodged in your throat and your heart squeezed tightly in your chest.

"You know, thanksgiving is coming up. Do you have any plans?"

He appeared slightly thrown off by the question. "No."

"The reason I asked is because my family is celebrating this week and I really want you to come."

He maintained a tranquil disposition as you carefully spoke - you have no way of knowing what he's thinking.

"Please say yes." You urged. "It would mean a lot to me."

"I'll think on it."

His answer wasn't a no even though he was well within his rights to decline the offer. As of now, you can only remain hopeful that he takes you up on the offer.

Inhaling, you nodded in acknowledgment before moving to grab the oven mitts off the counter. You carefully pulled the pan out of the oven. The rolls had browned just the perfect amount and smelled heavenly. They look absolutely appetizing and you're almost drooling.

With the necessary concentration, you took your time slathering the frosting over the brown sugar coated rolls. There was something magical about how the frosting drizzled on the cinnamon swirls then down onto the pan. You might appear to be one of the world's most gluttonous people but you didn't care. Once that was done, you put the spoon in your mouth to eat the frosting residue sticking to the spoon.

You almost didn't want to because of how pretty the rolls looked sitting in the pan. Using a spatula, you carefully scoped up a big fluffy piece and placed it on the small glass plate.

"Cinnamon rolls are my favorite pastry. Everything about it is just so delicious. The roll itself is good but the icing is what really sets the flavor off."

You bite into the steamy, softness, delighted when the flavor hits your tongue.

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to savor the taste of the cinnamon roll, moaning in delight. "Mmm."

You didn't notice that you'd left some of the white frosting at the corner of your mouth. Naturally, your quiet lover seemed to take notice.

Your tongue inadvertently slid out to scoop up the rest of the sweet icing into your waiting mouth.

While it wasn't your intention to entice him with your seemingly innocent indulgence, you certainly hadn't meant to incite lascivious thoughts in him.

He promptly glided up to you, a long finger lifting up your chin to bring your gaze to meet his. His ruggedly handsome face hovered over yours and you could feel heat wafting off of his body. Heavy sexual tension surrounded the space in an instant and it was steadily rising with each second. For several seconds, you're just standing there looking at each other, silence buzzing all around the kitchen. After two days of being in a recovery period, you realize you're craving him more than ever. You're just elated that you can invoke feelings of desire in him the same way he does you.

John's eyes narrowed, the glint in his brown eyes was unquestionable. The way he's looking at you - like he wants to devour you on the spot in the same way you did the baked confection moments before. Immediately, you feel warmth seeping into your chest. Now your mouth is getting moist for an entirely different reason. The look has you salivating for a different kind of white residue with a different taste…


You run your hands over the apex of his thighs while your tongue runs along the head and underside of the stiff length. John's eyes have darkened considerably as he stared down at your flushed face. Not you paid his inflamed expression that much attention - you were too busy deftly massaging the head with your pursed lips and french kissing his tip. It must've presented quite the lewd display for your lover and your pussy is flooding itself at the look he was giving you.

After giving the mushroom tip a few light feather kisses, you suck the head into your mouth entirely. You can already taste the pre-cum squirting on your tongue and it motivates you to keep going so his body can produce more. Pre-cum means you must be doing something right. You give the throbbing flesh a slow, firm pull from the base, feeling John's thighs tense from the sensation. The wetness coating his shaft and you provided some much assistance despite the mess it's creating.

Between your legs is a faint ache that you want handled but it couldn't be in your current position. The excitement itself has you nearly shaking on the floor between his open legs. You never really masturbated, never thought about doing it until now. You desperately needed some form of relief in some way or the other. Reaching down past your stomach, you clumsy, tight circles over your throbbing clit in an attempt to ease the heat burning in your core.

It had been a while since you'd given him him but it didn't mean you felt unsure about it. You loved sucking his dick whenever you could and you were getting better at it each time. You continuously engulfed his soaking wet dick, stroking the base of him with your hand. The pace started slow but gradually sped up. The sounds resulting from your action were surprising even to you. You honestly deserved a medal for the way you were managing your sensitive gag reflex while you swallowed him down - for the way he stretched your throat while you accommodated him. He was deep in your esophagus. A hand cradled the nape of your head in either encouragement or concern, you really couldn't tell.

Leering dark eyes watched your slick mouth take his manhood into your throat over and over again - the sight incredibly arousing beyond words but he knew he could not take his pleasure from the one place he truly craved. The realization very nearly overshadowed his current pleasure. Almost. Unbeknownst to you, he was paying very close attention to the hand below your stomach. The hand at the back of your head holds you there and you work your tongue at the base of his shaft at the same time you provide the generous suction. It was a learning process to draw in air through your nose while deep-throating.

You know your mouth is producing just the right hot, wet sensation that would have him at the edge in minutes. There's a split second where you feel him jolt slightly before he eventually comes, shooting streams of white semen onto your lips, face and into your mouth. He virtually emptied his entire sack all over your face and you didn't stop stroking until the milky jets stopped coming. Some of it lands directly on your tongue, the taste of him salty and exquisite. What landed in your mouth goes smoothly down your throat. You sucked in more than a few breaths.

Having the creamy liquid coating your face is a feeling you couldn't explain but it certainly made you feel even hornier than before. John's gaze is locked unto yours. In a move that you would've never guessed the man would do, John started to gather the sticky warmth with his middle and index fingers and brought the appendages to your some hesitation, you ultimately parted your lips permitting him to push the digits into your waiting mouth. All of the cum from your cheeks, chin, and forehead is eaten while he observes with hooded eyes.

With your eyes closed, you swallowed down the rest of the cum the man pushed into your mouth with a dexterous thumb. Once all of the semen is transferred into your waiting orifice, the contract killer leaned down to slant his mouth over yours to savor a deep, passionate kiss. He kissed you breathless, tongues melding together.

You were made dimly aware of his nimble fingers wrapping around the wrist tucked down between your legs. You watched with a labored breath as he lifted your wet fingers to his mouth to suck the juices from the digits, his eyes boring into yours fervently. You had a feeling it wasn't done for your pleasure but for his own. Clearly, the man wanted his own taste of your essence.

Not only had you given him something to think about, he's given you something to think about as well.


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