“Like it?” Robert asked, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. “I think it’s perfect, only the best quality for you.” He pinched your nipples, watching you shudder from the mirror view. “I can see everything, and now you can, too.”

You were both on his bed, the one in his luxurious bedroom. If you looked to the right, you could see the buildings of New York brighten as the sky turned dark and the clouds melted into an orange, yellow color. You husband didn’t bother closing the curtains. He reasoned that no one would be able to see you both, not in the private room he secured for you in his penthouse.

‘No one knows where we are,’ he had reasoned. ‘We can do anything we want.’

Slowly, but surely, you watched as Robert’s fingers trailed down your stomach, making you shiver at the cold feeling of his touch, before finally making it down to your your pussy where he rubbed your clit.

You let out a sigh. It was a little embarrassing to watch him do this, albeit incredibly sexy, but still—you looked away, not wanting to see your own desperate reactions to his teasing.

Robert saw what you were doing and gently pushed your chin up, making you make eye-contact with yourself in the mirror. 

“I want you to see how pretty you look,” Robert said softly. “And,” he added, with a bit of a chuckle, “I want to see myself fuck you silly.”

He plunged his fingers inside, making you cry out at the suddenness of it all. In the mirror, you could see his lips part open, eyes on the lower half of your body, taking the view in like a hungry rascal. His rough fingering made you squirm and moan. “Robert,” you mewled. “Mmmm.”

“Oh,” he breathed out against your neck, leaving kisses along your jawline. “I love it when you say my name. Reminds yourself just who’s fucking you this good.”

He took his fingers out and pushed his cock in, making you cry out in pleasure. “Fuck!”

You focused on the view in front of you, trying not to let the pleasure cloud your mind. Robert’s cock was slipping in and out of you, his arm around your neck tight enough to hold you in place but not hard enough to choke. He was behind you, and while you wished you could see his chest, the face he was making was enough.

His eyebrows were creasing and his eyes fluttered shut every once in a while, just focusing on the feeling of being inside of you, rather than the precision of making it perfect. He was groaning against your skin, hot, short breaths that tickled.

He opened his eyes, and saw you staring at him like you were drunk and he was the only thing in the world.

“Perfect wife,” he murmured. “You can do everything, can’t you? Can’t believe I scored you . . .”

After a couple more minutes of him fucking you and whispering sweet things in your ear, you both came at around the same time. There were beads of sweat on both of your foreheads, but nothing major. He pulled you off of him and set you down beside, giving you a sweet smooch on the lips.

“Did you like it?” he asked, and you could see in his eyes that he was a little worried.

You nodded with a shy smile. “Mhm. We can do that against sometime, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, leaning in to give you another kiss. “We will.”

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“I’m not happy!” you say.

Tommy scoffs in response. “You live like a princess. What else could you possibly need?”

“Love and attention,” you huff.

“Christ,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “Are you a child? Do you really need to attend to you all day to be content?”

“Not all day, Tommy. Just sometimes. What's the point in even having a lover if you won't spend time with them?"

"You act like I have a lot of free time to waste. I'm a very busy man."

His way of having excuses for everything make you feel like you're going insane.

"You have enough time to spend with prostitutes," you say bitterly. This makes Tommy perk up. "I know you go to see them after work and lie to me when you get home late. Why do you bother stringing me along if you'd rather pay for your companionship?"

Tommy chuckles darkly. "That's what this is about, eh?"

"Why the fuck are you laughing, Tommy?"

He stands up from his chair and crosses the room to stand in front of you. He places one hand on your hip while the other holds his cigarette. The smoke swirls in front of your face, the pungent smell burning your nose.

"You're jealous of my whores?" he asks smugly.

"What do they have that I don't," you ask angrily.

"I have certain needs that they satisfy."

You scoff and push his hand off of you. "We're together, Tommy. You should come to me to satisfy your needs, not step out on me."

Tommy rolls his eyes and grabs ahold of your wrist. "What I need isn't appropriate for a high society woman like yourself."

You furrow your brows in confusion, but no matter what he's talking about, you want to be able to provide it for him. "You don't get to decide what's appropriate for me or not. Besides, you'd know that I'm very adventurous if you ever took the time to actually be intimate with me."

He blinks slowly at you and licks his lips, then smirks devilishly. "You want me to treat you like one of my whores?"

"Yes, Tommy."

"Right." Tommy stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray on the side table, the turns his attention back to you. Both of his hands are on your hips now, holding you firmly. "You promise not to get upset?"

"Why would I get upset?"

Tommy fights back a smirk. "Because I tend to be a bit... harsh."

"Harsh?" you ask.

"You said you want me to fuck you like a whore. A dirty, cheap, used up whore that's only good for taking cock. Is that right?" You hesitantly nod. "Then until I'm finished, that's exactly what you're going to be. I'm only going to stop if you tell me to, otherwise I'm going to have you just like I have them."

"Okay," you breathe.

Tommy steps away from you and sits back in his chair. "Take your dress off," he instructs.

You find it a bit odd that he's just watching instead of also getting undressed, but it does make you feel better that the prostitutes he visits don't get to see him naked.

You strip piece by piece until you're bare in front of him. He stands up again and looks over your body, occasionally prodding and groping you.

"Turn around," he says, voice low. You do as he says and you allow yourself to be moved over to the couch. Tommy pushes you so you're bent at the waist over the arm rest, bare ass on display.

Tommy continues to grope you; he slaps your cheeks, spreads and slaps them, and teases at your folds.

“Wet already? Didn’t think whores got off on their work,” he says.

Without much prep, he shoves two fingers into your cunt. Like a true whore, you take them easily. He opens you up by scissoring his fingers inside you. He's going quickly, not bothering to take his time and make it pleasurable for you. You suppose he pays for his own pleasure, not yours.

"Already loose too. How many others did you have today?" he asks. When you don't answer him, he delivers a slap to your ass.

"N-none," you whimper.

"Sounds like business is slow."

He pulls his fingers out of you and wipes your wetness on your thigh. He then moves to press his hips against yours, allowing you to feel the bulge in his slacks. He grinds up against you shamelessly, making you feel even more humiliated now that he's simulating fucking you while he's fully dressed.

"Tell me you want my cock," he orders.

"I want your cock," you parrot with a whine in your voice.

"You can be more convincing than that," he says with a slap to your ass. "Be a good whore and beg me to fuck you."

You take a deep breath. "Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad... Mr. Shelby," you add for good measure.

That seems to please him, because he moves away from you far enough to pull his cock through his fly. He rubs the head through your folds, teasing your entrance with it.

"I'm not going to catch anything from fucking you raw, am I?" he asks, though he knows the answer.

"No, sir," you reply.

You're glad he bent you over like this, because that means he can't see your embarrassed face and you don't have to look into his intimidating eyes.

"Mm, good."

He pushes inside you, not gently but he doesn't aim to hurt you. Once he's fully seated inside, he begins to thrust before you're ready for it. You gasp in surprise, but you're helpless to do anything but take it.

"Didn't think pussy so cheap would take me so well," he groans. His hands grip tightly on your hips and he slams you back to meet each of his thrusts. His cock bumps against your cervix uncomfortably, but it feels best for him when you take it all the way, and that's the only thing that matters.

With each thrust, you make a punched out little moan. Tommy, however, is silent above you, save for a bit of heavy breathing. It isn't until you arch your back and really start putting on a show that he speaks up.

"Like a fuckin' professional, eh? I should come to you more often. Y'know, my woman's a real bitch sometimes. Never lets me fuck her like this. Thinks she's too good to get bent over. Has so many opinions, too. But you're a good woman; quiet, tight," he leans down, draping himself over your back to speak into your ear. "Obedient."

You can't help but moan at his filthy words, despite how degrading they are. You shouldn't find your lover talking badly about you so arousing, but you cant help it.

"She gets so mad I cheat on her but I think she'd understand if she felt this cunt for herself. 'm gonna marry her and fuck her full of babies to keep her busy while I give the real good stuff to you."

"Fuck," you whimper and immediately regret it.

"You like when I talk to you like a whore? You like getting fucked hard like I don't love you?"

It's rare that Tommy says he loves you. So rare, in fact, that you often doubt if it's true.

"Yes, yes," you gasp. "I love you."

He watched his cock disappear inside her as the velvety warm walls of her cunt welcomed him. Her mouth opened wide as she trembled, feeling him filling her to the brim. She steadied herself and started moving slowly up and down—eyes closed out of pleasure, head throwing back as she let soft whimpers, feeling his cock stretching her out.

Thomas propped his back against the headboard of the bed, a small smirk on his lips as he puffed on his cigarette. He relished in the sight of his wife—her soft curves, her swollen teats, the gentle swell of her belly where their baby nestled, and the pouted expression on her face as she took him like an obedient wife. 

"Do you need help?" he asked cruelly, noticing the small tear falling down her red cheek.

"Ye..yes," she answered, letting out pitiful mewls, feeling his cock throbbing inside her as she failed to find the rhythm without his help. "It's so big."

Thomas chuckled. "I know," he feigned sympathy. "But you will take it like the good wife you are, won't you?"

She whimpered softly and eagerly nodded her head as a sweet blush crept on her face. "I...I will," she pouted, her lips quivering. "I will be a good wife and pleasure my husband." 

The soft slick sounds echoed around the room as she paced up—each movement, each thrust, made her sink more and more, stretching her out until she felt his balls touching her arse. She trembled, chasing her release, feeling the ache inside of her deepen while Tommy found pleasure in the sight of her—wasted and broken. 

It was a rare day in the Shelby family, a break from the peaky blinders, the meetings, and the chaos of children. This was a day just for Thomas and his wife—or so he thought.

All of a sudden, a loud knock echoed through the room, accompanied by the sounds of children's cries. Thomas let out a frustrated groan, setting his cigarette aside, and pulling his wife close into his embrace. He buried his face in her neck, feeling her soft breasts against him, gently rising and falling.

"Stay."

"I... I can't," she replied, hand on her mouth as she tried to hold her moans as he thrusted harder inside her. "They won't leave until we open the door."

"Daddy! Charlie pulled my hair and Rose threw up on Nana."

"For fuck's sake," Thomas muttered under his breath. "Darling, we are in the middle of something important. Go find Nana."

"NO!" Charlotte's protest screams from outside soon followed by Rose's cries and the voice of Charlie accusing her of lying. 

Having no other choice, his wife pressed her lips against his to distract him before she pulled away, leaving him momentarily dazed and yearning for more. She rose from the bed, letting out a small hiss as she pulled herself from his cock—already feeling empty.

"I promise, I'll make it up to you tonight," she whispered, placing a kiss on his cheek as he slightly groaned. 

She draped a robe around her form and tossed his pants in his direction. As she opened the door, their two oldest children rushed in with their youngest happily crawling along the floor. 

Charlotte dashed towards her father, ignoring her mother's presence. Tommy's face lit up in a warm smile as he extended his arms, to hug her.

"Char... Charlie pulled my hair," she said with a pout, her voice filled with fake sorrow as she tried to hold back giggles. Her little act didn't escape her father’s notice, and he let out a chuckle in response. He was well familiar with his eldest's mischievous side. However, looking down at her, he couldn't help but adore the way her eyes, so similar to her mother's, shimmered with mischief and feigned tears. He knew he could never bring himself to scold her. 

Thomas let out a hum. "Really?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "And what did you do to him first?"

Charlotte shrugged her shoulders in response, "Nothing," she giggled.

"She’s lying!" Charlie huffed. "She gave my cake to Cyril!"

"I know, my sweet boy," his mother cooed, gently wiping away his tears while struggling to hide a chuckle. "Looks like she's already got you wrapped around her little finger—as usual," she teased, pointing out at her daughter who hugged her father tightly, rubbing her nose against his shoulder as she glared at her brother. 

Then, little Rose tugged at her mother's nightdress, grasping for attention. She lifted her chubby arms, wanting to be held as she whined. Her mother scooped her and bounced in her arms. 

Thomas let out another hum, scooping up Charlotte, and tickling her as she loudly giggled. "You little monkey," he chuckled. "Always causing trouble."

"Dad…Daddy, that’s enough."

"You promise you will stop causing trouble and leave your brother alone?"

Charlotte paused for a moment, considering her father’s words, then shook her head and stuck out her tongue.

"Very well," Thomas said, turning his attention to his son. "Come here."

Without hesitation, Charlie eagerly climbed on the bed, joining in the fun as he attacked his sister.

The family spent the remainder of the day preparing after a week spent in their London apartment, eagerly waiting to return to the Arrow House. Thomas' wife stood before the mirror, wrapped in her usual Romani attire - a soft dress and a white headscarf.

"You look stunning," Thomas murmured, enfolding her in a warm embrace from behind. He peppered kisses along her neck, his hand tenderly caressing her belly.

"We are running late," she reminded him. "The children are so excited about going back home."

Just as he was about to respond, the phone rang. He moved to the side table and picked it up before his expression grew somber as he listened to the voice on the other end. After a heavy sigh, he put the phone down.

"It's alright. I'll take the kids back, and you can follow later," his wife said, knowing that he has another important business.

Tommy drew her close, pulling her to his chest "I love you," he whispered between her lips.

"I love you too," she replied with a smile. "Just don't be too long. You better be at home tomorrow."

"As Mrs. Shelby wishes," he teased, leaning in to plant a kiss on her nose.