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“How about you take a walk now, honey,” Sofia whispers under her breath at Vincent who simply stares wide-eyed back at Oz. Her eyelid twitches at the sight, annoyed that despite the fact that she’d forced the kid to tie up his boss at gunpoint, he still doesn’t seem to grasp the seriousness of the situation he’s found himself in. She takes a deep breath, reminds herself that he’s still green around the gills, and clears her throat. “Unless you’d rather have a front row seat for the show,” she says with a smile as she raises the gun and pistol whips Oz across the face.
“Go on kid, get out of here,” Oz retorts, slurring slightly around the blood that drips sluggishly from the corner of his stinging mouth.
“Smart choice,” Sofia yells without turning her back, when the metal door of Oz’s apartment slams and the two are left in silence. “Don’t worry, I won’t kill him. He’s not nearly important enough for that. But you on the other hand…well we’ll just have to see about that won’t we.”
She lays down the pistol, opting for the knife that’s been previously strapped to her thigh and drags it up upward, taping it against his broad chest to punctuate each word. “What was your big plan anyway Oz? Use me to secure the drops deal, then what? “Have me locked up, kill me maybe?” She glares at him, pupils blown so wide in anger that they’re nearly black. When his lips twitch as if he’s getting ready to spin her another honeyed lie, she presses a red lacquered nail roughly against them.
“Save it. By the way, if you were counting on using my family's connections to aid your little rise to the top, you’ll find you’re a little late for that. Tragic isn’t it. A simple gas leak and poor little Sofia, well she’s the only Falcone left.” she says with a shrug, watching Oz’s face, waiting for the penny to drop.
“Jesus Christ, Sofia. You’re fucking, ins…” Oz mutters, cut off when she roughly straddles his lap and presses the knife under his jaw, slightly puncturing the delicate skin as she forces his head upward to meet her gaze.
“I’m what, Oz? Insane? Guess I’m just living up to my reputation then,” she says with a hollow laugh, watching the older man’s throat constrict slightly as he swallows nervously. She’s so close she can feel the heat of him, smell the hint of cologne that still clings to him, see the beads of sweat that run from his temples, down his scarred cheeks to mix with with the rivulets of blood that have collected on the collar of his overly starched dress shirt.
As if testing him, she presses the knife in just a tad harder, satisfied when he finally winces around the pain. “If you’re going to kill me Sofia, I’d suggest you get it over with. Stop acting like a fucking cat toying with its prey,” he snarls.
The outburst earns him a slap across his already bruised face. Her chest heaves in anger and her fist curls into the fabric of his shirt so tightly that she can feel the buttons cut into the flesh of her palm.
“You may have been my dad’s right hand but he never respected you. Always thought you were a joke. And yet there you were a loyal little dog left outside in the cold, forgiving his master the moment he tossed you a scrap. For all your smarts Oz, you couldn’t see through my dad’s bullshit either could you?” Sofia taunts, scraping the knife idly under her nails, watching with half lidded eyes as her words cut sharper than any knife could have.
The wounded look that briefly flashed across his eyes would have been satisfying had his hands not suddenly struck out to grab her hips, using the momentum to knock them to the carpeted floor. Sofia lands heavily on her back, gasping from having the wind knocked out of her and stares wide eyed in surprise at Oz who looms heavily over. “Always check the binds. Rookie mistake, sweetheart,” he says with a grin.
In her peripheral vision, Sofia can make out the glint of the knife that’s landed beside her, and her hand desperately scrambles for the handle. It’s awkward in her grasp but she clumsily brings it up with as much force she can muster. She’s not particularly surprised when Oz simply grabs the blade, twisting it from her grasp even as blood pours from the deep cut in his palm and tosses it across the room. He faces her again and wraps the same blood coated hand around the pale column of her throat. “You kick a dog long enough, it’s eventually going to bite,” he whispers into her ear as he squeezes tightly around her neck.
Though she glares back at him with pure hatred in her eyes, she can’t help the feeling of lust that rushes through her when his thumbs dig almost painfully into the tendons of her neck. She gives in, arching up tightly to press against his body as a strangled moan escapes her lips.
“You’re full of surprises aren’t you, honey,” he retorts. She expects him to laugh, mock her but instead her eyes dart down wildly as he instead loosens his hold on her throat to grip the silky fabric of the yellow dress she’d been wearing since last night. A look of pure satisfaction crosses his face when he manages to pop the seams, slowly splitting the fabric into two pieces, leaving her pale body splayed underneath him.
As he fumbles with one hand on his belt, she watches him trail the other hand down her stomach, smearing his blood against her skin before slipping it between her thighs.
Despite herself she’s already wet, can feel the heat pooling in her lower stomach and when his thumb experimentally thumbs at her clit she clenches tightly around his hand, grinding roughly against it.
“Easy baby. You’ll get it soon enough,” he rasps, splaying his hand on her belly to hold her in place as he pulls himself from his pants.
Sofia tilts her head back, writhing in frustration when he pins her to the carpet. His hand is warm against her skin, a stark contrast to the cool air of the apartment and the tacky feeling of the drying blood that he’s left on her.
She’s brought back to reality when she feels him hover above her so that he can press himself against her, the tip unnervingly close to her entrance. There’s a pause as if he’s asking for her permission which surprises her. She’d not taken him for a considerate lover, much less one who didn’t want to hurt her considering the circumstances.
Nevertheless, she doesn’t have time for this, not entirely sure she’ll be able to hold out if he takes any longer and reaches down, wrapping her fingers around him and proceeds to guide him inside her. They both groan when he’s fully sheathed. He pauses again letting her adjust before leaning down to mouth at her neck as he thrusts roughly against her.
Sofia moans at the sensation of his teeth sharply nipping at her pulse points and the feel of his stubble scraping her delicate skin raw. When he hoists her leg higher against his hip to get a better angle, she clenches hard around him, relishing the feel of his breath against the side of her face as he moans her name into her sweaty hair.
Her hands scrabble to reach for his back, nails digging in hard as she brings his body close to hers. His pupils are blown, wide with lust when he gazes down at her and she can’t help but surge up and capture his lips with hers. It’s rough as if they are battling for dominance and she tastes blood when his teeth sink into her bottom lip. The sharp pain makes her dizzy and she leans back giving him full access to her.
He takes full advantage, draping both of her legs against his broad shoulders. Her eyes screw shut, as he thrusts into her and the plush carpet burns against her back due to the friction. When he thumbs against her clit, her legs shake weakly and she hears him softly laugh. “That’s it, baby. You’re doing so good, baby.”
God help her but the praise does it and she can feel the orgasm build in her lower belly before peaking as she clenches rhymically against him. He follows soon after with a low groan, his seed warm as it spills into her and dribbles down her thighs.
Exhausted, she’s barely aware of him standing with a pained groan before picking her up and carrying her into his bedroom. She makes a note to say something about the purple bedspread when he lays her down and curls up behind her. She huddled into his warmth, letting her eyes close. “Get some sleep sweetheart, you can always try to kill me tomorrow,” he murmurs as he leans down to press a kiss to the side of her head.