Getting Home

Nikki restrained himself from drinking too heavily – he didn’t feel like ordering a taxi to pick them back up from their date, and he didn’t feel safe parking Olivia’s extremely expensive Ferrari out in the middle of nowhere to have its windows smashed in by some asshole. He escorted Amélie back to the car and drove them both home without further incident. She’d drunk a rather large quantity of red wine, but it didn’t show in her confident stride as they walked back to the elevator and started the long ride back up to their penthouse paradise.

Nikki had to pinch himself again. Here he was with the sexiest, most beautiful French supermodel slash assassin in the universe, heading back up to his penthouse apartment that made your average countryside palace feel modest in comparison. And this was only the tip of the iceberg. Private yachts, holidays around the world to exotic and expensive places, fast cars and plenty of women to keep himself occupied with – he’d lucked out big time.

The doors slid open. Olivia was waiting in the kitchen in little more than a loose white t-shirt and a black thong that showed off her incredible ass. “There are the lovebirds, how was your date?” she asked.

“Adequate,” Amélie stated plainly.

Sombra cackled, “Heh, you really wooed her papi. You got a compliment out of her!”

Nikki really wanted to spend the night with his new girl. It seemed that Sombra was already two steps ahead of him though, she waved the two by, “You two lovers go have some fun, enough for the three of us. I’ll sleep in one of the spare bedrooms so you can have a little one on one time. It’s only fair.”

“Uh, thanks.”

Amélie had no comments to spare. Nikki led her up the stairs and into the master bedroom. There was ample space for at least a few dozen people on a lavish, harem style bed that dominated the middle of the floor space. This wasn’t a bed you could change with some elbow grease. The mattress was huge, round, designed for the kind of degenerate orgy that a man with more money than sense could organize with ease.

For him.

There was a large window at the back that looked out over the city. Amélie took a tentative step into the room and scanned it with her eyes, “Hm. Defensible enough. I doubt a killer could reach you in here.”

“You’re going to be sleeping here too.”

If she had any objections, she didn’t air them. Nikki kicked off his shoes and flopped down onto the bed. It was incredibly comfortable. He couldn’t fall asleep just yet though. There was still something he needed to do. “Amélie, if I asked you to, would you sleep with me.”

Nikki’s breath hitched as her usually passive face showed some sign of deeply buried emotion. “I would do anything you ordered me to,” she explained, “If you desire my body, it is yours to do with as you please.”

Nikki remembered her description in the harem app. She was hiding how she truly felt. She was obsessed with him, in love with him – but she couldn’t show it properly thanks to the brainwashing she underwent. She had rationalized it as just another part of her job. She was a tool for the will of the man holding her leash. “Strip.”

Widow moved with precision. She shrugged the thin straps from over her shoulders and allowed the red rag to drop to the ground. She titled her wide, sexy hips to the side, allowing the natural curves of her body to shine under the artificial light of the bedroom. Nikki admired the various tattoos that covered her body – it stood in stark contrast to her refined and serious personality. She strutted over to Nikki and stood in front of him, “And?”

Nikki sat up on the edge of the bed and leant in to her stomach. Hei reached out and placed his hands on the firm, perky globes of Amélie’s behind and squeezed. This was the greatest ass he’d ever seen, and the second best was loitering in the kitchen. It was almost unnaturally tight. He could feel the muscle underneath the fine layer of fat as he digged his fingers in even deeper. He almost lost sight of his digits as the softness tried to swallow them whole.

“How far would you be willing to go?” he asked, testing the limits of her patience.

“However far you think is necessary, monsieur.”

“You’d have sex with me?”

“If you asked.”

“Would you bare children for me?”

“If I was fertile.”

“Would you love me?”

Nikki peered up from under Widow’s lithe chest and watched as a spectrum of emotions twisted her face in seven different directions, “If you wished.”

“No. I’m asking you. Do you love me? Not because I ordered you to, do you feel it down in that person you’ve buried in there?”

She steeled her nerve, “Yes. I love you.”

Nikki smiled, “That’s all I wanted to know.”