5 comments/ 23421 views/ 10 favorites Kiss With a Fist By: LaRascasse Hi Litsters, This is my first posting to Erotic Couplings and I'm nervous about how it turns out. I hope you like it. Feel free to vote, comment and send me private feedback with abandon should you like the story (even more so if you don't). Inspired by the Florence and The Machine song "Kiss With A Fist". A richly deserved vote of thanks to my tireless editor NaokoSmith and my beta-reader DeathAndTaxes. DISCLAIMER - The story ahead has a liberal amount of profanity, violence, drug use and really rough sex. If one or more of those is contrary to your tastes, please don't read further. "I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people." - Caitlyn Siehl **** "Hold the cue gently. Not too stiff. Keep the head pointed towards the centre of the ball." Eddie Dyer had one hand under the slender blonde. She leaned over the pool table, focusing on the shot she had to make. He took the opportunity to let a helpful hand hold her side and subtly graze her breast. "That's it now, keep your eyes on the ball." Another hand made its way to her waist, giving her support while she leaned forward. The blonde didn't seem to mind, perhaps even enjoying the touch of his calloused hands against her tender flesh. Eddie continued leaning over her shapely curves, copping a generous feel under the guise of pool instructions. The leggy lass squinted her eyes in concentration, ignoring the fingers rubbing against her fleshy thigh. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his muscular bicep flex, stretching out the tattoo looped around it. "Nice and easy now. Don't overdo it." He was lousy at taking his own advice, letting a couple of fingers wander into her cleavage. He stroked her plump tit, reaching as far as her elusive areola on occasion. There was a loud thwack when the cue finally surged forward and connected with the cue ball. Unfortunately, the ball went several inches wide of its intended target, ricocheting off the sides before nestling in the corner pocket. "Aww... well. I'm sure you'll do better with practice." Slick as ever, Eddie grabbed one last handful of her tit flesh before stepping away. The girl looked around and blushed, trying to see if anyone around had seen her basically groped over the pool table. Worse, she desperately hoped to hide from them her nascent arousal, seeping into the gusset of her damp underwear. She turned around to see if Eddie was still in the vicinity, hoping to tempt him to go further. Much to her chagrin, he was facing the other way and making brisk strides in the direction of the counter. A crimson blush came over her face as she took a quick glance around to see if anybody nearby had noticed. She beamed when she saw an attractive black man wink at her from the opposite end of the bar. **** Eddie had that look in his eyes. Everybody got out of his way in a hurry, not wanting to get on his wrong side. He jostled and shoved his way through the crowd towards the bar counter. The bartender leaned over and smiled at his friend. "Who's that guy with Darcy?" The bartender turned his grizzled face to the right. The leather-clad redhead in question was getting comfortable with a balding man. They talked animatedly, the man letting his hand wander to her exposed waist and rub against her skin. "No idea, Eddie." At that moment, the man leaned in for a kiss. She averted his lips, instead letting him feast on the exposed skin of her neck and shoulder. His lips were busy when she shot a long glance at Eddie out of the corner of her eye. "Excuse me, Dom," he said, brushing away an attempted beer by his friend. "I'll be back in a sec." "Don't make a mess. I'm not cleaning it up again." "I'll try my best," Eddie said. In a few quick strides, he reached the pair. The older and more knowledgeable patrons knew what was coming and wisely chose to step away. Eddie reached Darcy just as the man lifted his lips from her cleavage and looked at him through beady eyes. "Darcy, you look busy," said Eddie, with a wide grin. "Don't you want to introduce me to your friend here?" "Fuck off, Eddie. He bought me a drink, which is more than you've done all evening." "I'm sorry, babe. Hey, Dom! Get the lady a Jager shot." The bartender silently obliged. Darcy gulped the strong shot down at once and beckoned for another while her eyes flashed fire at Eddie. "Nice pool lessons, by the way," she said sardonically. "Even I learned a thing or two while you taught that bimbo back there. Should I say taught or felt up? It looked quite confusing from here." "I was just having a little harmless fun, hun. You know I'd never take it any further." "And yet, you have to come along and interrupt me when I'm having a little harmless fun of my own." "I think I should just go..." said the hitherto silent man. He stood a good six inches shorter than Eddie and lacked the bulging biceps and tattoos that he was currently eyeing fearfully. "No, stay..." said Eddie genially. "What's his name, darlin'?" "Gavin. He's in town to visit his sister." "Well then, Gavin. Tell your sister I said Hi." The next second there was a sickening splat of brass knuckles colliding with skin. Eddie's right hand shot up and made a tremendous impact on the Gavin's nose and lips. The punch was heard across the bar as the man sprawled over the counter and then fell off his stool onto the floor. Eddie and Darcy looked down at him, seeing blood flow out his nose and mouth. He coughed, spouting more blood onto the floor. "That wasn't necessary, Eddie," spat out Darcy, shaking her unkept red locks. "Do I go around knocking out every slut you shack up with? He's a nice guy. Much nicer than you, if you must know." "Come on, babe-" "Save it," she interrupted and kneed him where no man wants to get kneed. He doubled over, cringing. "Seriously not cool, Darcy," he gasped. She waited till he could unsteadily stand before throwing the remainder of her Jagermeister at his face. He stood there, his eyes clenched shut, alcohol dripping off his face and his pride temporarily in tatters. "I'm leaving, motherfucker. And this time, I'm not coming back." Eddie heard her heels clicking furiously as she stormed off. Half the bar watched the scene with wide eyes, while the regulars simply tutted and shook their heads. "She'll return, Dom. She always does," Eddie said, wiping his face with his sleeve. His friend looked less than amused. "I don't care if she returns. I told you not to make a mess and now I have an unconscious, bleeding guy on the floor." "Relax, Dom. It's not the first time and it's unlikely to be the last. Have a couple of your guys drop him at the ER." Eddie reached into his pocket and fished out a wad of bills. He rolled out a few dead Presidents and put them on the counter. "For your troubles. Gotta go now. The boss wants to meet me." Dom sighed ruefully to himself before yelling to his boys. "Clean up on aisle three. Eddie's been here." **** THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. Eddie's knuckles were sore. The tape wrapped around them had frayed and was wearing off quickly. He strafed left, then right, hopping on his toes. His breathing was shallow and he unleashed a flurry of blows at the punching bag before him. It had been a bad day at office. The Crips had started a new initiation ritual - ambushing members of the rival Irish mob. Eddie and his boys were simply on their way back from the bodega when a group of initiates attacked, armed with bicycle chains and knives. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. Violence was nothing new in the Cypress Hills neighbourhood, but the Crips had the element of surprise. Before he knew it, Eddie was already surrounded. He fended off a few blows and managed to get a shot or two of his own in before the attackers ran back to their turf. He was largely unscathed, but his right-hand man, Jack, was a crumpled, bloody heap on the road. He had taken on three Crips at once and received half a dozen stab wounds. Thankfully those Crips were still kids and didn't know where the vital organs were. Sweat poured off Eddie's face. One of the bicycle chains had opened up a neat cut over his left eye. The wound stung with salty sweat. He was soft and out of practice. His pride was wounded worse than his body. His could almost hear his Dad's derisive laugh when he got beaten up for the umpteenth time. He always wanted his son to grow up to be a man's man. Eddie took a brief moment before unleashing a fresh salvo of left and right hooks onto the bag. Rage flowed through his veins. He wound up and gave the bag one punch with all he had. The bag lurched against the chains before regaining its normal position. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. Eddie Senior returned from his second tour of the Gulf a different man. Whatever passed for warmth and affection before had completely disappeared and he resumed his love affair with the bottle after three years of sobriety. Some of the things he had seen in the war made it necessary. He also became strangely controlling over Eddie, demanding he learn how to fight. He built a small gym in the basement and dragged his adolescent son down there, mostly against his will. "Come on, Eddie," snarled his Dad, holding both hands up. "Punch me." Eddie looked fearful, desperate to get out. His father got more impatient. "I said punch me, faggot. You gotta learn how to fight if you want to defend yourself in this neighbourhood." Eddie threw a weak punch against his father's open palm. It made him laugh. "I said punch, not tickle, you worthless sack of shit. Now fucking put some meat into it." He threw two more quick punches, neither living up to his father's expectations. The last one made brief contact with his chin, but not the impact he wanted. "When I say punch, I mean with force. Like this." Eddie Senior's punch caught his son squarely on the jaw, sending him flying back against the concrete wall. His head made a hard collision and bounced back to where his father got a hold of his collar. He opened his eyes fearfully only to meet his father's savage gaze. "What? That wasn't enough. You want more? Like this." THUMP. "And this." THUMP "... this." THUMP "..." THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. Eddie Dyer felt the back of his head. There were many scars and bumps, but his fingers sought out a special one. One he had received in the basement of his childhood home. His father had knocked him out cold that day. Finally, his screams from down there reached his neighbours who called the police. From there, it only got harder. He went from group home to group home, too old to be adopted by a foster family. The group homes were worse and he had to fight for every little thing he got. Soon, he was the biggest, meanest kid in the place. From there it was a natural progression to the assembly line for creating a new lowlife for the underbelly of Brooklyn. He went back to assaulting the punching bag with renewed vigour. His knuckles were red and puffy and he was sporting a bruise from the fight earlier. He didn't care. He had sworn he would never let himself be hurt again. Left and right hooks slammed into the punching bag until he simply couldn't throw another punch. He staggered back and panted, the anger from earlier finally replaced by calm. He turned to the entrance of the gym to see Darcy, taking a long drag off a Newport. She dropped the stub onto the floor and crushed it under her heel. "I heard what happened to Jack. How is he?" "He lost a lot of blood, but he's gonna be okay. He's a fighter." Eddie looked at her through his lashes, trying to gauge the look on her face. He had seen that look of forced calm enough to know it was merely a façade, hiding something worse. "I know about Miranda." Those four words resonated around the empty gym. Eddie rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath. "I'm sorry, Darcy. I really am." "Don't. Just fucking don't. I'm really through with you this time." "She came onto me, babe. You have to believe me on this one," he said. "Fuck you," she spat out. "Fuck you all the way to hell." Her outstretched middle finger emphasised the point. "I'm sorry, Darcy. I never meant to hurt you." "Is that why you slept with a stripper? I mean, really? A fucking stripper?" "You were also a stripper once." "So," she snarled, her eyes widening. "I gave that up for you and this is how you return the favour? You go around pounding ten-dollar whores up the ass." "I love you, babe. You have to believe that," he said, raising one of his taped hands to her face. "Fuck you," she repeated, punctuating the sentence with a swift knee to his groin. He doubled over in pain for the second time that day. Even as he caught his breath, he saw her marching straight out the door. The luck of the Irish was not with him that day. Not by any stretch. **** "Calm down, Darcy." "Don't you fucking tell me to calm down, you fucking bastard," she screamed, tears streaming down her face. "I loved you so much and you just go around banging every slut you see?" "It's not like that, I swear." "Then, what?" she said, wiping her tears. "Fucking tell me what?" Eddie stood motionless, unable to think of a good enough answer. He hung his head. Darcy grew more livid by the second. She jumped on the bed and then straight onto her boyfriend, pushing him down against the floor. She looked down at him with black hatred and balled her hands into tight fists before she rained down a barrage of punches onto his face and chest. He crossed his arms over his face, absorbing her rage. Finally, she seemed to tire of fighting. She collapsed on top of him, crying bitterly, her carefully done make-up an absolute mess. Ugly black streaks of mascara came down both sides of her face. "Why, Eddie?" "Shhh... don't talk now," he said, stroking her cheek. She lay on top of him, her tears running cold on his neck and shoulder. Slowly he traced out the phoenix tattoo on her arm. His fingers rubbed along the edge of its wings. The phoenix meant something special to her, rising from the ashes. Well, Darcy had been through enough Hellfire. Eddie kissed her gently and caressed her hair with his other hand. She seemed limp, spent from crying. Darcy cried a lot the day her father was convicted on five charges of corruption. She absolutely doted on him as a kid. Her father, Officer McPherson, could do no wrong as far as she was concerned. He was her hero. It hurt to see her hero turn mortal before her eyes. It didn't matter that he had a reduced sentence for turning State's evidence. He would never be her hero again. She spent most of her teenage life wiping her tears and seeking comfort in marijuana. Her spiral only truly began when she got hooked on the more expensive drugs, drugs that needed her to turn tricks to be able to afford. She lay there, on top of him, utterly spent. He wrapped his arms around her back and held her tightly. All at once, she seemed so tender, so vulnerable. He kissed her cheek softly and whispered into her ear. "I love you so much, baby. I wish I had the words to tell you." Darcy raised her head. Her blazing red hair came down on either side of her sharp, angular face. Her turquoise blue eyes glinted brightly and looked straight into his. They were close now, so close he could see the wetness shimmering within them. "Honey," he said softly. "I think we should have sex now. The readers are getting impatient." "Right. I forgot we're in the Erotic Couplings category," she said. "This is your goodbye fuck." She lowered her luscious lips to his and they kissed. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and found hers. The kiss gradually turned intense, their tongues duelling with each other. Darcy pressed her lips down on his and kissed him fiercely, the only way she knew how. Their kiss continued while he slipped his hands under the waistband of her pants. He lifted her waist off his to reach the belt and button of her pants. Darcy gasped when his hand made contact with her damp pussy through the flimsy fabric of her thong. His finger probed her slit and slowly pushed some of the sheer fabric inside. "Fuck, baby. Do that again." He obliged, pushing his index and middle finger in at once. The material of her thong was stretched to breaking point when he drew his fingers out and pushed them back in again. "Let's take this stupid thing off," he said, quickly taking off the fabric between his fingers and her. He let his thumb rub her clit, sparking squeals of pleasure. Darcy took the initiative to remove her top and bra while Eddie's attentions remained focussed on her tight pussy. Her large breasts popped out. She was content to play with her nipples for the time. Eddie worked her pussy with two fingers. He pushed them as deep as they would go inside her before twisting and turning them against her fleshy walls. Her eyes rolled back into her head with pleasure. His two hands worked in tandem, one rubbing her clit and the other thrusting in and out of her opening. Her eyes were clamped shut and her fingers pinching and pulling on the hard nubs at the end of her breasts. She held them between her index finger and thumb and twisted them gently, sending ripples of pleasure flowing through her. "Right there, Eddie." The first time his tongue made contact with her wetness, she gasped. The sudden feeling of rough tastebuds against her pussy lips was too much for her. Instinctively, she clenched her thighs around his head, forcing it in place. He obliged with a long lick, all the way from the bottom of her pussy right to the top, gently teasing her along the way. "Fuck!!" she screeched. He repeated his long slow lick. His tongue imbibed every nuance of liquid which flowed from her. "What's it like?" she asked coyly. "It should be on the menu at Flaherty's." She laughed. It was a musical, lilted laugh that Eddie brought out of her. She had seldom had occasion to laugh in her life. Not with Eddie. He loved her. "Not to rush you, honey, but all this business with Miranda means you owe me a rough, hard fuck right here on the rug." Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Eddie quickly clambered up her body until his face was directly above hers. She smiled that coquettish, wicked smile that drove him over the edge while reaching down and grasping his hardness. Her fingers wrapped around it and tugged gently. "There's a good boy," she murmured into his mouth. She lined the head with her wetness. He took the signal and slid into her in one, fluid stroke. The impact made Darcy jerk. He pulled out until half of him was still inside her before thrusting back again. Their lips met in a fiery inferno of passion, their tongues fencing for room. Darcy was never outdone, reciprocating the intensity of the kiss with interest. She frothed and churned the inside of Eddie's mouth, mashing her lips with his. His hips rose and fell in a slow, sporadic rhythm. She pushed the waistband of his jeans to his knees and grabbed his ass, her nails breaking skin. "I said hard, dumbfuck! Fuck the shit out of me." She pulled his hips to herself, to emphasise the point. He happily caved in to her demand and slammed into her hard and fast. His hips made a wet impact on her at every instroke. He plunged in and out of her like a piston, his strokes becoming faster and more frequent with time. Kiss With a Fist Darcy screams reverberated around the room. Eddie didn't care about his rotten day any more, piling all that frustration into every movement. His hands held hers above her head and he continued kissing her. "Cum for me, motherfucker. Cum inside me." Eddie grunted and clamped his lips above hers, erupting a flood of cum inside her. He continued thrusting, even as his member unloaded rope after rope. They lay on the floor, panting for breath and wrapped up in each other's sweaty embrace. He sat up and ran his fingers down her silky thighs. His fingers found a new blemish and circled it. "You have a rug burn." "Mmm... the best kind of burn." **** "What the fuck?!" Eddie stood aghast at the doorway. Darcy sat at the table, her fingers spread out. She had a knife in her other hand and she was playing the knife game, stabbing the narrow gaps between her fingers in quick succession. She wore a look of disenchantment with many rivulets of tears marking her cheeks. She looked up at him and did not stop her motion with the knife. "Are you fucking insane? Stop that before you hurt yourself." She did not relent, plunging her knife into the table with force. The sharp end drove into the woodwork between her fingers in sequence. Deep ridges had formed between her fingers. Her eyes remained fixed on his, a slow film of rage forming over them. "Why?" he asked exasperatedly, walking towards the table. A vein popped in her temple. Darcy finally stopped driving the knife into the table and stood up, still clutching it tightly. Her free hand picked up a bottle of cheap vodka and drank half of it neat in one go. "You got a message, fuckface," she spat out vehemently. "Why don't you see who's it from?" Eddie picked his burner phone off the bed and scrolled down. He sighed when he found a text from Miranda, wanting to meet at the Sunset Motel on Glenmore. "I swear, baby. It's not what it looks like." "Okay," she said, approaching him with the knife still firmly held. "What is it? What else is it apart from what it looks like?" Eddie mumbled incoherently for a few seconds, struggling to come up with a plausible excuse. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders. "I can't tell you, Darcy. I wish I could, but I really can't." "Fuck you and your excuses," she snarled in response. "At least be man enough to admit you're cheating on me, humping a floozy in a cheap motel." "Why don't you calm down and put the knife away now? Let's talk about this." Darcy swung her arm out, the tip of the knife making a graceful arc through the air and narrowly missing Eddie's arm. He took a few steps back to avoid her next two attempts before the last swing snagged on his shirt, ripping a gash through the fabric. "I warned you," she mouthed, pointing the business end of the knife at him. "I warned you if you ever slept with that whore again, I was going to cut your balls off." "Darcy, put that knife away before you hurt someone." "Oh, I intend to hurt someone all right," she yelled, throwing the knife. Eddie took evasive action and it grazed his shoulder before landing on the shelf behind them. He felt for the trickle of blood. "See what you did, you crazy bitch?" he yelled back, holding out two bloody fingers. "I'm just getting started," Darcy said with a manic grin. She lunged at him, driving her nails into his thick jacket. He wrestled it off his shoulders and used the leverage to get some distance between them. She threw it away and looked at him, her face colouring a shade of crimson. "This is the last time you cheat on me, Goddamit!" she swore. "I'm going to rip you a new one." She reached out to the table and picked up a plate. Eddie immediately raised his hands to his face. Not a moment too soon - the porcelain dish delivered only an indirect blow to his forearm before shattering to pieces against the wall. He barely had a chance to lower his arms before Darcy had another plate in her hands. He weaved out of the way just in time and the plate hit the wall to his right. "What's the matter with you?" he yelled. "Are you trying to wreck this place?" "I'm way past trying," she riposted, picking up a half full bottle from the table. "Darcy, honey. I swear it's all a big misunderstanding. I'll clear it up with you later. Right now, I need you to calm down and put the bottle on the table." It was a mistake to remind her of the bottle, in seconds it was airborne. It flew in a graceful, parabolic trajectory before colliding with the side of Eddie's head. The impact was glancing, but made him slam into the wall shortly after the bottle. A spray of vodka ran down the wall and his clothes. He clutched his head and grimaced, still feeling the impact. "Did I hurt you?" she drawled sardonically, walking up to him. "Did something finally rattle that thick skull?" "Don't tell me that's all it takes to get the great Eddie Dyer on his knees!" "Did it hurt, Eddie? Did that one punch hurt?," sneered his Dad. He looked up at his face only to see the familiar satisfied smirk. "Yes it did hurt, motherfucker," he yelled out. Reflexively, his left hand curved upwards through the air and made a powerful connection with her jaw. Darcy was taken off her feet. She landed awkwardly and staggered backwards, catching hold of the kitchen counter to break her fall. Eddie unsteadily got himself upright again. Darcy lifted her head and smiled at him, blood gushing down the front and corners of her lips. She spat the blood into the sink and looked back, grinning through the red trickle. "That's what you need, Eddie. No one else can give it to you. Not Miranda or any other slut you pick up off the street. Only me." In three strides she reached him and clamped her lips down on his. He kissed her hungrily, his tongue diving into her mouth and tasting her blood. The metallic taste of the feistiest Irish blood on this side of the Atlantic was intoxicating. Their tongues jousted against each other, not ceding an inch. She reciprocated the kiss with twice the passion, devouring his face with her lips and tongue. "Get the coke," she mouthed between kisses. **** Darcy sat at the table, emptying the pouch of white powder. She spread it evenly with her fingers, bringing one up to her tongue for a quick taste. "Where'd you get it from?" she asked, licking her lips. "The boss has a new supplier. The word is, this stuff comes directly from Colombia. It's as pure as it gets. I got this pouch before our guys mixed their stuff into it." She took out a dollar bill and straightened the edge before cutting the coke into several thin lines. Eddie watched her practised ease. To think it was only a couple of years back that she was desperate enough for the stuff to sell her body to every dealer in Brooklyn. Now, it was all under control... give or take the occasional indulgence. Darcy cut the lines intently. She was used to the process, right down to the exact length and width of each line. She stole a glance at Eddie, grinning through the now visible bruise to the side of his temple. She had a low opinion of the opposite gender - after all, if her father wasn't a good man, no one could be. They were all assholes and liars, only acting decent because they wanted to get into her pants. The sweaty middle-aged perverts she grinded against for food were barely a notch above the pimps and drug dealers she serviced when she was more desperate. Monsters, the lot of them. But not Eddie. Never Eddie. Darcy looked up at him and licked her lips seductively. She rolled up a tenner and stuck one end up her nose. Her eyes remained fixed on Eddie as the tip moved up the white line, inhaling all of it. She threw her head back and her eyes went wide open, feeling her nose and mouth go numb. The higher quality of the coke hit her like a sledgehammer to the gut. Lightning flashed in her peripheral vision, coalescing into a dazzling psychedelic blur. Balls of colour arced back and forth, racing and interweaving before her before exploding. Her body felt lighter than air and her mind went completely blank. Somewhere in the distorted silhouettes, she made out Eddie looking at her with a smile. "Fuuuuuuckkkk!" she wailed and spread her arms over her head. "Can't let you have all the fun," Eddie said, partaking in some snow himself. The effort of standing proved too much for her jelly knees. She fell on top of him and her lips immediately sought out his. The kiss was tender and studied. They fell off the dusty couch to the floor and she rolled off him, laughing for exactly no reason. Eddie saw her face amidst a starry sky. Every syllable of her lilted laugh reached him stretched out in time. He heard her voice call out to him from the farthest reaches of the cosmos. The stars swirled around them. She interrupted his high by rolling back atop his supine form. She looked down at his eyes, seeing her face in vivid technicolour. Her lips pressed against his forehead, then his cheek and trailed down to his neck. She nuzzled into him, her lips never losing touch with his skin. One of Darcy's hands reached up and gently circled his bruise. He hardly felt the pain now, but it still felt soothing when she let her fingers caress the blackened skin. She reached up and gently blew over it. "I'm sorry for that. I really didn't mean to hurt you so bad." "Shh... don't apologise." "I'm so fucked up," she lamented, kissing the bruised skin. "I hurt the one guy I'm crazy about." "It's going to be all right." Her kisses moved down his nose to his lips once more. They kissed sensually, with an exquisite ardency. Each movement of their lips and tongues was synchronised, like it was one soul residing in two bodies. The feeling of euphoria went through both their bodies, racing through every nerve until they were swallowed whole in its grasp. Eddie blinked, seeing the sharp features of the girl he loved against a rapidly whirling background of stars. Her pale white skin, her full red lips and her alluring eyes - they all stared back at him in sharp focus. His fingers reached out and caressed her cheek. She smiled and closed her eyes, feeling his rough, calloused hands graze her skin. Her small hand reached out and held his wrist, slowly moving it in circles. He released his hand and let it trail down Darcy's neck. His lips followed, planting kisses along the way. She held his head, guiding him down past her collarbone and to her luscious breasts. His roving lips found her nipples and took turns on them. Eddie held them in his mouth and let his tongue rub the sensitive buds. Darcy squealed when Eddie detached his mouth and held her nipples with his hands. He held each of them between his index finger and thumb, tweaking them in opposite direction. She moaned hotly into his mouth while he continued pinching and pulling unabated. "That's it, Eddie. Keep doing that," she said, each syllable choked out in a breathless gasp. She was on her hands and knees above him now, her pendulous breasts hanging at the perfect height for his hands and mouth. They were swollen with the potent cocktail of euphoria and arousal. Darcy's knees abruptly gave way and she collapsed on top of him, giggling for no apparent reason. She grabbed his sides and flipped them around so he was on top. He raised himself on his elbows, giving her a full view of his chiselled abs. Her arms went around his back and she pulled him down, her nails digging into the skin. He stifled a cry of pain when she grunted and dug even deeper. "I'm still mad at you, asshole. I mean, why the fuck do you need to go sleep with anybody else? I'm right here, aren't I?" Eddie didn't deign to answer that question, instead occupying himself with a fresh series of kisses on her neck and chest. She grabbed his shoulder hard and went on. "Have I ever said no? Is there anything those sluts will do for you that I won't? I don't think so. All you need to do is ask, mister." He was barely aware of her words any longer. The dirty walls of their squalid little place were slowly coming back into focus as the high wore off around the edges. All of a sudden, Darcy pushed him backwards. He stumbled on the floor and she held his knees and parted them, exposing his hardening member to her eager gaze. "You're getting hard again. The coke must be wearing off." Darcy immediately brought her mouth down to his crotch and engulfed the full length of his hardness at once. Her silky lips squeezed around the girth and she suctioned him into her mouth. Her tongue went all over the surface of his cock. She held the base of his member and took her mouth off, seeing multiple strands of saliva joining her mouth to the tip of his erection. He was fully erect now and she could feel his turgid flesh throb and pulse under her grip. She stuck her tongue out to lick it, the tip going over the network of veins all the way to the purple head. "Does Miranda do this for you? Do you like it better when she does it?" "No. Only you." "Then fucking let me do it more often, rather than fucking her in a fleabag motel." She let her tongue slurp up one side of his cock, all the way from the base to the tip. The journey down was more slow and tortuous. She repeated the motion, letting her tongue bathe him with saliva. Eddie groaned and held her head as she bobbed up and down. When Darcy finally took all of him in her mouth, his eyes went wide. He looked down to her nose touching abdomen and the head of his cock, snugly nestled in her throat. She looked up at him through her beautiful eyes, as if seeking approval. He smiled and gently began moving his hips back and forth. She was used to suppressing her gag reflex and deep-throated him with acquired ease. Her tongue wrapped around the hardness in her mouth. Her cheeks puffed with the effort. Eddie felt the familiar stirring in his bowels. The feeling of her mouth drove him to paroxysms of ecstasy. His balls tightened and he felt the tell-tale tingling within him moments before he unloaded a load inside her. His member jerked and spasmed, spewing spurts of cum down her throat. She took them gratefully. Eventually, he withdrew his shrivelling member from her mouth, seeing remnants of his semen dribble down the corners of her mouth to her chin. She licked her lips, taking some of it back into her mouth. He lay on the floor, recuperating from the force of his orgasm. Darcy, however, wasn't quite done. In a flash, she straddled his hips and pushed his head down on the dirty floor. Her fingernails dug into his chest. "Now you'll know what it is like to be with a real woman." She got up on her knees and held his rapidly hardening cock to her slick entrance. He looked down his body to see his head held tantalizingly close to her lower lips. She smiled at him and jerked him a few times, until he was fully hard once more. She slowly sank herself down, relishing the delicious sensation of her walls being stretched. He filled her out like a glove one size too small. Darcy leaned forward, pressing her ample boobs into his chest. Her hips began to gyrate, grinding themselves against his pelvis. He held her ass tightly, controlling her speed. She kissed him on the forehead and cheeks tenderly, leaving a trail of kisses all the way to his shoulder. Her lips pressed against his shoulder blade before she bit down hard enough to draw blood. "You deserve that for what you did." Abruptly, he lifted his hips off the floor in a powerful thrust. The feeling of the hard erection driving into her body took her by surprise. His lips curled into a wicked smile and he slammed upwards again. She took the hint and timed her strokes so that she pushed down at the same time he thrust upwards. For a brief instant his cock was visible between their bodies before their bodies came together with the delicacy of a car crash. The opposite forces impaled Eddie's erection into places of her she had not known about. In one thrust, he pushed right into her G spot. The sudden impact made her scream and her eyes bugged out of her head. He continued his movements, spurring her to lofty peaks of arousal. Her screams and encouragement melded into an incoherent babble, a decadent symphony of pure, unbridled pleasure. There was no apartment, no street, no neighbourhood, no Brooklyn. There was no present, no future, no past. No trauma or ruined childhoods. There were no fallen heroes. There were no drugs or gangs. There simply was the colossal force of the imminent climax, hurtling towards them like an onrushing train. They floated in an empty space of sexual nirvana, disconnected from every aspect of reality. All they saw was each other and the promise of a climax beyond all others. The sheer force of the orgasm swept Darcy away. She felt every nerve ending in her body light up and then scorch themselves to ashes. It seemed as if her entirety had morphed into one large erogenous zone. All of her felt the intensity of the orgasm explode from her pussy and course throughout her, cascading over her senses. She jerked and thrashed atop her lover, feeling the sensory overload rip her in half. A riot of colours unfurled in front of her before erupting in a dazzling glare. She rolled off Eddie and lay on her back, a sheen of sweat visible over her pale skin. She took deep breaths, her breasts ballooning up with each one. Her hair was plastered to her face and she felt like she had run a marathon at one sprint. Her trembling hand reached for his flaccid cock, feeling the wetness of their combined juices. Slowly, Darcy turned to her side and rested against her panting lover. Her hands toyed with his sparse chest hair. "That... was... wow," she gasped out. He did not respond, simply holding her tightly to himself. The sweat clung onto both of them, joining them together in a tangle of human flesh. The world gradually came back into focus, the aftermath of the mutual climax still lingering in every cell. "You know," began Darcy. "There are still four more lines of coke on the table. It would be a shame to let it go to waste." Eddie sighed and kissed her hair. She was truly one of a kind. **** A FEW HOURS LATER Eddie winced when he felt the sting of the rubbing alcohol against his wound. Darcy carefully spread it all around the gash with a wad of cotton. She had already tended to his temple and the side of his head. The shoulder was the last of his wounds... for now. "Does it still hurt?" "I'll live. Finish stitching me up fast, I have a busy night ahead of me." "Hold on," she gritted, carefully looping the thread through his skin. She was quite used to doing it now. He took a swig of beer, feeling the dull pinch on his skin as the sutures closed the wound. He wearily surveyed the wreck that their lovemaking had left. "Where are you going, Eddie?" "For starters, the boss has told me to go to old man Louie's bakery. He's a couple of months behind on his protection money and I need to remind him of that." "Nooo, not Uncle Louie. I love his pastries." "Me too, but what can I do? Times are bad. If he gets away without paying his dues to the mob, the other shops down the street might get the same idea. We wouldn't want that now, would we?" "Please tell me you're not going to hurt him." "Not this time. This time I'll just break a few display cases and scare him. I hope he learns and pays up by next week. I really don't want to have to visit him again." Darcy sighed with resignation. "At least grab me a cannoli while you're there." "You got it," he replied, rising up and testing his shoulder with a few air punches. He looked back at her. Kiss With a Fist "What's the matter?" he asked, seeing the beginnings of tears form in her eyes. "I heard the guys talking earlier. I know you're going to hit a Crips safe house later tonight." "You know the rule, Darcy. They put one of ours in the hospital, we put ten of theirs in the morgue." "Those Crips are crazy, Eddie. You could get hurt." "Me and the boys are going in with Israeli surplus Uzis the boss got. Our snitch inside the Crips camp tells us they have a shipment of drugs coming in. We're going to take them by surprise and make those bastards pay for what they did to Jack." "It's still too dangerous, Eddie, and you know it." "Quit worrying," he said nonchalantly, throwing on his leather jacket. "I'll be all right." Darcy grabbed his collar and looked straight into his eyes. Her blue irises seemed larger than ever, looming so close to his. They shimmered with wetness that she was struggling to hold back. "I don't care if you fuck Miranda, or anyone else. I just want you to come back in one piece." They kissed. Her tongue waded inside his mouth and sloshed from side to side and her grip on his jacket did not relent. "Dad is probably going to be out on parole by Thanksgiving, so we can finally have dinner like a family. You are not allowed to die on me before that." "I'll keep that in mind," he chuckled. "Although he might not exactly approve of me as your boyfriend. He used to be a cop, after all." "I don't fucking care about that," she wailed. "He isn't perfect either and he knows it. None of us are. You just promise me the boys won't have to give me any bad news at the end of the night." "Word," he said, picking up his bat. "Now if you'll excuse me, I had better get going." "I'm coming too," she said, swinging her legs off the chair and following after him. "To Uncle Louie's?" "No, you fucker. To teach that two-bit whore Miranda a lesson. If she thinks I'm gonna give my man up to her without a fight, she's got another thing coming." Eddie sighed, not having the time or the energy to talk her out of it. "If you get arrested, let Captain Sullivan know. He's on the take from the boss and will make sure nothing happens to you." "Got it," she said, striding out with purpose in her stride. He stood in the doorway and watched her receding form intently, her sumptuous ass swaying from side to side as she walked. She was crazy, she was violent and she was capable of unmatched passion. ... And he wouldn't have her any other way. **** EPILOGUE The Sunset Motel on Glenmore street is the archetype of the seedy, no-strings attached, sleazy establishment that suits hookers. No one from the clerk at the counter downstairs, to the many married men with their dates for the night gave Eddie a second look as he and Miranda giggled to each other and made their way to their assigned room. He shut the door behind them and then sat down on a relatively clean part of the sofa. Miranda sat on the bed at close to him and grinned. Her assets were clearly visible through the minimalist fabric around them. "What do you want tonight, Miranda?" "So many things," said the brunette, licking her lips while her appraising eyes roamed over him. "While we're in this room, you should call me Detective Clemens." "Okay, Detective," he sneered. "Is there anything I can do for you?" "For one, you can tell your crazy girlfriend to keep her hands to herself. She went postal on me at the club earlier. I almost blew my cover when I tackled her to the ground. Thankfully, none of the guys around were sober enough to know what a police tackle looks like." "I'm sorry about that. Must be her time of the month or something," Eddie lied. "Is she okay?" "She was so sloshed that one of the bouncers had to dump her outside. I'm sure the cops picked her up. She'll spend the night in the drunk tank before your buddy, Captain Sullivan, lets her out." "And what the fuck are you thinking shooting up Crips? Our jobs aren't any easier without you starting gang wars. We'll spend the night scraping them off the walls." "Boss' orders," he shrugged. "I got what you wanted though. The boss has put me in-charge of his arms shipments. I get to be with them all the way from the docks to the warehouse." "That's great," Miranda said. "Now make sure to find out all you can about the arms - names of dealers, routes, anything." "Asking too many questions is generally not good for my health. If the boss or any of his guys gets the least bit suspicious, your confidential informant will be fish food." "Make sure you stay alive, jackass," she retorted. "This is our best chance to take out the entire O'Reilly operation in year. I've got something for you." "A wire? Are you fucking kidding me? Anybody sees me wearing a wire, they'll cut it right out with my guts." "We need recorded evidence if anything is going to make it to court," Miranda said, rummaging in her bag. "Take this. It's a button with a miniature recorder. It will send a live feed directly to us." "It's too risky. O'Reilly has too many cops on his payroll. If one of them is part of your operation, we're done." "This operation is tight, don't worry about that. Only me, my lieutenant and a couple of other detectives know. We're going to weed out all the dirty cops soon enough, make no mistake." "What about my end of the bargain?" "You'll have the fake IDs for yourself and Darcy and a bag full of cash when it's all done. Where would you like to disappear to?" "Someplace small. Not Boston. Not Chicago. Not Los Angeles. O'Reilly has people in the big cities." "You got it. Just after we've recorded your testimony, you can be off to wherever you want." Suddenly, Eddie heard the doorknob turn. Miranda grabbed his jacket and yanked him to the bed beside her just as the door opened. "What the fuck, Ryan?" Eddie yelled. "Can't you see I'm busy here?" "Sorry, Eddie," said the young man with a sheepish grin. "The boss wanted me to ask you where to put the drugs we took from those Crips bastards today." "Just put them in the old warehouse for now. I'll get there and then we'll decide how to split them." "You got it," the kid said. "Oh and I ran into Darcy earlier. She looked pissed. Now I can see why." "Fuck off." Ryan shut the door behind him and walked off. Eddie rolled Miranda off his body and got up. Her hands snaked around him and he felt her warm lips on the back of his neck. "You know... Darcy already thinks you're cheating on her with me. Correction, knows you're cheating on her with me. There is only one reason you bring a stripper to a place like this. Why don't we have some fun while we're here?" "I don't care what she thinks or knows," he said, wrestling her grip off him. "I'm not sleeping with someone else. I love her and she knows that." "C'mon, Eddie. This time next year, you'll be in small town Iowa under another name with Darcy. Why not make a few memories of New York before that?" "Nope... No way." He got up from the bed and put the recording device in his pocket. Miranda looked at him longingly. "In a different world, I'd be all over a guy like you. Darcy's a lucky girl. I hope she knows that." "Thanks. Now if you'll excuse me, I've 'banged' you for long enough in here. Let's go before we have another interruption." Eddie went straight back to his place and crashed amidst the smell of vodka, pot and cocaine. A helping of marijuana helped him idly dream of the future. He would take Darcy far away from the pain and misery of her life. He promised himself as much as he drifted off. He was woken early next morning by a persistent banging on the door. Bleary eyed, he unbolted it and the door burst open, hitting him in the face. "I knew it. I knew you couldn't resist that whore, Miranda. I met Ryan at the bar and he told me everything." Eddie Dyer sighed, already bracing himself. ****