No Honour Among Thieves (Mature)

No Honour Among Thieves Part Four

Billy held her sweet, undulating body tightly against him as she shook and juddered. God, he was so stirred up, he was fit to explode, and that was just frotting her against him. What would it be like inside her, legs around his back, feet drumming on his arse? He lowered his head and caught her full, gasping mouth, preying on her taste by pushing his tongue deep. A rare thing was a responsive whore, was she pretending? Her scent filled his nose, oranges, spice and aroused woman. He wedged his thigh harder between hers, mercilessly rolling her against him. She broke the kiss with a cry, shuddering. No, he thought with a satisfied smirk, this was no ploy.

He wanted to yank her up skirt and take her now, feel her wet heat around him. Only he was blinded by darkness, surrounded by unstable scenery. There was also little room, not enough for him to really enjoy her like he wanted. He would wait till he got her home, in the light, where he could see her abundant charms, not just feel them.

Lowering his knee he gathered her closer, libidinously indulging in the feel of yielding curves and silky skin.

Burying her face in his shoulder, fragrant hair tickling his chin, the girl purred softly against his neck. Was she always this receptive, he wondered, tightening his arms around her? Did she blaze for any man’s touch?  It angered him that others had plundered her hot body, even as he acknowledged that he intended to profit from it.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Fuck you.” She laughed breathlessly against his collar bone.

Before he could comprehend that statement, she’d slipped agilely out of his embrace, evading his hasty attempt to reach for her again.

 “Fire, fire in the prop room.” She shouted.

Billy stiffened. “Bitch!” He exhaled incredulously as he heard the instant clamour of panic her cry had caused. He was tempted to throw her over his shoulder, take the brazen hussy with him anyway. Her people running in this direction put paid to that.

Did she think he would take this lying down? Moving towards the opening door, he threatened ominously. “Don’t think this is finished sweetheart.” He would return, make no mistake on that. He pushed through a throng of people rushing towards him. Before the week was out he would have her in the palace, on her back, and no one would dare to stop him. Billy hadn’t got this far in life by being denied what he wanted, and he wanted her even more now, weak, helpless and beneath him.

Tensing against a blustery flurry of snow, he swiftly left by the theatre’s main entrance. His mate Lumpy was waiting for him, a wonder of patience and fortitude huddled into his fancy togs.

“Get what you want Bill?” The other man asked, shivering.

“Not yet, but I will” Billy promised, clapping Lumpy on the shoulder, pushing him into the chilly, stinking cab his old friend had flagged down. It wasn’t often Billy had to work to fuck a girl’s bones, he appreciated the hunt.

Ever since the age of twelve, Billy had triumphed over life’s hardships. When he had watched Frank Fitchner, their landlord dancing the Tyburn jig at Newgate for slitting his mum like a pig, he’d triumphed. When his dad had been thrown into the reeking pit that functioned as a pauper’s grave, leaving him and sister alone to survive, he’d triumphed. Billy had once been a bilker, the lowest of the low. Lured marks down twisted alleys with the promise of select perversions, then beat and robbed them. Being that low meant you could only rise. A fast learner, he had fought, stolen and killed on his way up. To protect what was his, there was nothing he couldn’t, or wouldn’t turn his hand to.

The cab driver dropped them out in Shoreditch High Street, refusing to go any deeper into the slum quarter. Billy couldn’t blame him, he probably wouldn’t have left unscathed. Ambling contentedly along the icy, mean streets, Lumpy and he had no such worries.

Turning down a dark alley they came upon the towering edifice known as ‘Billy’s Palace’. A port of hospitality, every window blazed with welcoming appeal, its ambient glow warming this frozen little corner of hell. A far cry from the once dilapidated structure Billy had found at a time of extreme desperation. He laughed quietly to himself in caustic recollection. It had been snowing that day too.

This legitimate front to his whole organisation had since been spruced up, courtesy of a down and out architect who was up to his bollocks in Billy’s pocket. One thing he loved about the Old Nick, was that it didn’t matter where you came from, what education you had, when life went belly up they all ended up in his circle. Why else would they call it the Old Nick?

The Ruler of this fine estate, a rookery so black that even the law was too afraid to enter, was none other than Flash Billy, The Daring Dentist, Handsome Quick and Mr William Maskal Esquire, owner of the finest gin palace and brothel north of the river. He was a pimp, thug, fence and general lord of all he surveyed, this was his world.

Searching his pocket for the purloined articles he’d removed from the vixen’s person, he found it empty. The sly princess had befuddled his brain with her wandering hands. He shook his head with a wry smile, heat thrumming through his loins. She would make an admirable mate for him, he would triumph over her too.