The room is hazy with the heavy tendrils of cigar smoke, twisting and coiling upwards. It had nowhere to escape in the small back office. By now, you're used to the sour stench. Under the odor of tobacco is something exotic, almost sweet. Cherries, if you were to guess. Doffy must have broken out his Spanish cigars. They were his favorite. Yours too, if you were being honest.
The man himself sits comfortably in his chair by the fireplace, poised and relaxed. Like a cat, regal and smug in his pressed black suit. The flames raged within the stone hearth, flickering orange and yellow and red. It's warm, but still the air is frosty on account of the poor soul begging on his knees in the center of the room.
"You've gotta believe me, boss." The man muttered. Eyes puffy and red from crying, hands clasped in front of him in desperation. They shook, his fear evident in every motion. Your perch on the chair, drink in hand, gives you a front row seat to the show. "I've been set up, this is some sick set-up. I'd never betray you. Never!"
"Hmph." Diamante scoffs in derision, one of two men standing at either side of the sap. His hands are tucked behind him, waiting patiently for this matter to be handled, but vindictive enough to make it clear how little he thought of him. You watch, smiling at the way the man swallows thickly.
Doflamingo doesn't respond, lifting his cigar to his lips and taking a patient inhale. Eyes hidden behind his glasses, his thoughts were a mystery, though you knew him well enough to realize he was amused. The way his legs crossed at the knees, head tilted back as he regarded the welp before him all manner of content and unconcerned.
A man of power, authority, and money. That was a man you didn't want to look away from.
"I promise you. I swear on my father's life, you have my loyalty. You've always had it. And that's never gonna change." The man says, somehow managing to pull the most convincing expression you've seen thus far.
But it isn't enough, you know it. His fate is sealed. Had been, the moment the door shut and locked behind him. Like a fly in a venus fly trap. He had no idea the jaws had already closed in.
"On your father's life, you say?" Doffy finally speaks, voice smooth and calculated, smiling through each word. Then, he looks up to you. "Did you hear that, angel? He must be serious."
"Staking the last family he's got on it..." You muse aloud, leaning down to rest your arm on the back of his shoulder in a familiar and intimate gesture. "He sure is confident."
"Yes, confident...that's the word."
The man is clearly not happy that you've voiced your opinion on the matter, but everyone knew better than to disrespect you. If he hadn't already been on the chopping block for suspicion against the family, he'd certainly be in hot water for speaking against you in anger. Doflamingo would make sure of it. You only smile a venomous smile, raising the Tumblr of whiskey to your lips.
"Confident that we didn't find Hancock's handbag in his car, I'm sure. Or the motel receipts she just so happens to own." Doffy went on, eyes never straying from your face. He gently reached up and traced his finger along your jawline. "As if I didn't have proof he turned his back to me and my generosity to get in bed with a woman I so despise."
"Wh-" The man paled, breath leaving him in a rush. "No! No, I swear, it was planted! Boss, don't do this-"
"Take him up by the Spider Miles steel mill and dispose of him." Doflamingo instructed without emotion, dragging his cigar as he watched Diamante and Pica drag the man to his feet by his elbows, preventing him from running or trying anything stupid. He begged and pleaded, swearing up and down his innocence.
"Mm." Before they reached the door, the blonde grunted, stopping the men in place. He took the cigar from his mouth and blew the smoke. "And find his father afterwards. Since he wants to gamble with his family's life-"
"No!"
"-he can see the consequences of swindling the House."
With a shooing gesture, Doflamingo dismissed his two associates. The screaming, distraught man was dragged out of the office, his cries and hysterical cursing growing ever more distant, until the gentle music of the record player in the corner was all you could hear.
"Nasty business, that." You mutter once the two of you were alone once more. Doflamingo sighs, but welcomes the way you lean down into his side and rub at his back.
"Nasty, but necessary." He admits to himself, taking one last drag of the cigar before it's too small to continue, digging the end into the ashtray at the chair's side. "I only regret you having to witness it."
"As if I haven't seen worse."
"You shouldn't have to. What might you come to think of me?" He says with a tilt of his head, half lost in thought.
"Nonsense." You say with a coy smile, pulling away and standing to get another drink at the minibar in the corner of the room. Each step is emphasized by a generous swing of your hips, accentuated by the expensive, shimmery dress you'd worn just for him. A gift, from his home country. It was tailor-made to fit you perfectly. You knew seeing you in it drove him wild.
His eyes were watching your every move, you could feel it, You smiled, feeling powerful. Important. To have the eyes of a man like Doflamingo so raptly focused on you...oh, the things stirring in your gut...
Your back to him, you shake your head as you uncap the whiskey and pour a little into the tumbler. "Darling, if you believe witnessing any of this would make me think less of you...well, what kind of woman do you take me for?"
You hear him stand, and turn to see him approach with a lazy smile on his face. Back to the bar's counter, you look up at him, sharp and deadly. He's alluring, coiled like a snake. To others his stance would be a threat. To you, he's captivating and dominating in a way you found absolutely riveting.
"What kind of woman, you ask?" He whispers, leaning his hands on the bar either side of your frame, drawing his face closer. You're trapped. Caged. For a man like him, that's a terrifying thought. It only excites you.
"You're the kind of woman one only finds once in a lifetime. The kind that sees good in 'dastardly' men like me, and the good men for what they are."
"Liars." You answer truthfully. "The whole lot of them. I suppose that's not a bad woman to be-"
The amusement grew on his face. "Oh, there's more, angel."
"More? Do go on, then." You laugh in excitement, heart beating faster.
"You're the kind of woman to make brave men shiver in fear. The kind so beautiful, so stunning, Murillo himself would find inspiration." His head tilts, smile quirking the corner of his lips. He leans forward more, only stopping when his lips are an inch from your own, warm breath fanning over them in a tantalizing fashion. "The kind I hope will let me ravishher until morning with pleasure beyond her imagination..."
You bite your lip, giving in to the desire to lean forward and press your lips to his-
Two sharp raps on the door draw your gaze behind him, pulling away just before it opens to admit Vergo. The sight of you two standing so close together doesn't effect him in the slightest. You admit it wasn't the worst position he'd caught the two of you in.
He stands straight just inside the doorway, hands folded in front of him and face impassive. "Apologies for interrupting."
"You're forgiven." Doffy replies, not moving from his spot in front of you. "Speak."
"Dracule is here."
"Ah, the Italian." The blonde muses to himself, a lazy smile drifting back in place. You're disappointed to see him step back from you, adopting a more socially casual distance. A shame... "I was expecting him."
"He agreed to wait until your previous business was attended to."
"Hm. Polite, as always." Doflamingo gives a chuckle, before gesturing quickly with his hand. "Send him in. I'll never hear the end of it if I test his patience any longer."
Vergo turns, closing the door behind him.
Always busy, always working. You know there's a pout on your lips when Doflamingo turns to look back over you, hand reaching up to gently touch the underside of your chin.
"Don't look so down, angel. I wouldn't forget a pretty thing like you." His voice, smooth as honey, washes away the bitter sting of rejection you'd felt at being set aside for business. "This meeting shouldn't be long. Dracule is only here to discuss the smuggling of his alcohol. He's the agreeable type. I don't anticipate any tiresome negotiations."
Of course, you understand. Business is business. But even so, your thighs squeeze tighter under your dress, feeling that stirring of need already simmering low in your loins.
"I'm to be left unsatisfied for a bunch of Italian brandy?" You question demurely, blinking slow with a frown. "Really, Doffy...?"
"I promise, doll. Let me take care of this, then I'm yours for the rest of the evening." He says, one hand reaching down for your gloved one, pulling it to his lips for a soft kiss against your knuckles. "I give you my word, and I'm always-"
"-a man of your word. I know." You say with a soft smile, daring to lean forward and steal a kiss from his grinning lips, pulling back to whisper against them. "I'll be waiting in the bedroom."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Doflamingo is a man of many things; power, wealth, and respect above all else. He is a man few dare cross, and even fewer can claim to know with any intimate familiarity. He's a leader, responsible for his vast reign over the countless businesses he demands loyalty from. He's fearsome. He's ruthless. He's cold-blooded, when required.
But with you, he was none of those things.
He was attentive, evident in the way his hands caressed and explored your naked body as he saw fit. But with undivided attention on you, on your every whimper and moan and gasp, every shiver and quake of your limbs, you felt as if he considered you his everything. The moon and the stars above and whatever else was beyond them. And perhaps he did believe you to be. You'd never found the courage to ask.
He was deliberate. His touches were assured, steady and eager. He never second guessed the many ways he would pleasure you. You felt more beautiful than Aphrodite, more valuable than all the jewels in the world, more treasured than a man's most priceless heirloom. And sometimes he told you so.
He was skilled. When his fingers sank deep into your wet entrance, stretching and rubbing in ways you could only dream of accomplishing yourself, there was no hesitation. In that moment, he owned you, body and soul, and you gladly let him take it.
He was teasing, mouth following along the most sensitive spots of you body, tongue swirling along the expanses of your soft skin in an effort to taste and tease you until you whined in pathetic need. His teeth scraped against a nipple, taking it into his mouth and sucking and twirling his tongue around it. The lewdness stole your breath away.
But most of all, Doflamingo was a lover, in the end. Always a man of his word, the second his hard member pushed its way into your awaiting, throbbing entrance you're gasping. It never fails to bring your confidence soaring to new heights, hearing the way he loses his composure as he slides his way into you. The shaky exhalation of breath beside your ear.
There's gratitude in every thrust. Each mumbled curse is a prayer. You know, without him having to speak, that he's thankful you are by his side. He's fucking you, but you know you have just as much control as he, somehow. What would he do without you? What would you do without him? You don't dare think of either reality.
You're loud for him, letting him lose control in a way that only you are allowed to see. A man so composed each and every day, you relish the steady increase of the pressure of his hands around your wrists, of the force of his thrusts deep into your cunt. You long ago stopped caring if the rest of those loyal to him heard your cries.
He's wild, dangerous perhaps, but not to you. For you, he's passionate, unrestrained, and unhindered in the way he brings you to pleasure. His skin against yours only further the desperation, the need to lose himself in you.
Your nights are long, spent basking in the glow of multiple orgasms. Doflamingo is a skilled lover, so attuned to your body that he knows just how to play with you to see the result he's looking for. Never left unsatisfied, any night spent with him is a dream.
When you cum for the final time of the night, joined by your giving and spent lover, your sweaty skin is cooled by the bedroom's open air. The space between you remains hot as you pant out heavy breaths.
It's in these moments, the quiet as you come down from your orgasms, when he's at his most gentle. It's a rare sight, one you cherish each and every time. You stare at him as he sits up against the headboard, lighting a cigar and puffing the smoke out with closed eyes.
You can't help but gently trace his cheek with your finger, and he lets you, watching you with tired amusement when you apply pressure enough for him to turn to face you fully.
He doesn't resist when you lean forward to press your lips to his in a soft kiss. It's slow. Lazy. Unhurried. You taste the sour tobacco and the cherry undertones behind it, knowing you'd never associate the the fruit with anything but the man at your side.
In the morning, he'll be back to business, but for now he was yours to cherish, to love and to hold. You wouldn't squander it.
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