Chapter Text
Nothing had happened.
Her burner had rang at the most crucial point in perhaps her entire career. By the time the call had ended with Rena, Adrien and the listname were gone.
She hadn’t even heard him go.
She’d been alone in the house for the entire night, snacking on the yogurts and fruit cups that had been stocked in the kitchen fridge, drinking herself into oblivion. She’d spent the entire night aching and tipsy. She wanted to kick herself.
Marinette sighed into the shower, letting the water rain down her back, stretching out stiff muscles.
It was Sunday night.
And Adrien had completely disappeared off the map for the rest of the week.
At first, she had thought it was because he had decided to move on— go back to his retirement plans. She couldn’t say that she didn’t understand. Being almost thirty in this type of work only solidified the danger that rose with every single new target to get. She had been lucky to keep him for as long as she had.
Oh, she wanted to kick herself.
How could she have waited for a decade to pass? Why had she done this to herself? Why hadn’t she told him the moment she’d given him his first job that there was something about him that she didn’t want to let go? Why had she let him disappear?
But Adrien was still in Paris.
His civilian self was still famous, of course. Tabloids sometimes kept up with him, gossiping about his choices of clothes and what they could signify. Whispers of marriage, or at least a new relationship were always common to read. Marinette read them to pass the time, to see what Adrien did when eyes were on him.
She kept an eye on all of her employees, and yet, no one who worked for her routinely ended up on the news for wearing a different tie. No one in her empire ended up on the news because of a charity event.
He was so different in the public eye. Truly, an absolute master at being a completely different person— she found herself captivated with the way he carried himself when he had to do interviews. It was like looking through a portal to an alternate universe— his hands and smile were soft. No hard edges— no blood, no gunpowder staining his hands.
His business life didn’t exist at all.
The latest fashion magazine that had appeared in the mailbox of the safehouse— it was spam mail, and she’d been meaning to unsubscribe to any type of spam coming through the mail but just kept putting it off everytime a new issue came out and it featured a certain blonde— had his face plastered over the cover, and she hadn’t been able to stop herself from sucking in a breath.
She knew just how soft his lips were, now. No more fantasizing. She’d read the entire article while soaking in her tub, her glock resting safely in the built-in holster just to the right of her.
He was still in Paris. He hadn’t left.
But the radio silence from him was too loud to ignore.
Sending everyone out of the house, and off for vacation had been for the best. If Adrien was really going to take the shot instead of asking her out to a date, she didn’t want everyone to know who it was, or imply that it had been someone who had been in the same house as her at the time. She didn’t want anyone seeing it. Scrub the recordings clean. She was going to die the way she had always imagined it— a mystery.
It was a good outlook for her, in all honesty.
And, well, if Adrien was even a smidge of the gentleman he always claimed to be, he would probably not even use his gun. She always wanted to see him in action, but never had the opportunity to go with him, being so busy with directing an entire business.
This would finally be her chance. And it would be exhilarating. She tried not to blush under the showerhead, washing her steaming cheeks under the cold water, rubbing at the stiffness of her shoulders. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, nearly weak in the knees.
She lathered her hair with products, letting her nails scratch at her scalp. Adrien’s hair was just as soft as she had always imagined. His stubble against her neck while he’d kissed deep bruises on her was just the right amount of prickle she’d been dreaming for. She wished she could keep the dark marks on her skin forever. They were starting to fade off. She rubbed herself almost raw with the bar of soap, filling the air with the scent of lemon.
She turned the shower off. Toweled her hair dry in front of the massive floor mirror just on the other wall of the shower. Brushed her teeth. Raked a comb through her hair to get it to lay flat. All the while keeping her handgun close, eyes wary of the door.
Just in case.
There wasn’t any noise coming in through the security feeds she had in her house, but according to those unfortunate to be on the other side, Adrien appeared and disappeared like a shadow in the night.
Her very own Chat Noir, a black cat that completely dissolved during the night.
She hoped Adrien was ready for her to fight back, if he was in fact going through with one of the requests. He’d said he wouldn’t kill her, he had… but just in case.
She slipped on her nightwear. The entire week she’d tried waiting for him using her best clothes— skimpy little outfits with skimpier lingerie underneath. It had been uncomfortable to sleep in, but she knew that, even before sliding on the pair of underwear that was barely bigger than strings.
She didn’t own lots of matching sets, never having the real need to have them other than the occasional desire to look as good as whatever model had advertised it. She grimaced at her choices, biting her lower lip, at a couple of choices she could put together.
Black was always the safest option in her leftovers that she had, so she slipped into black lace that looked similar enough to be considered matching, before putting on a simple slip. Peeks of the lace from the bustier showed through the top of the slip when she looked at herself in the mirror.
It wasn’t as provocative as the other clothes she had tried throughout the week, waiting for him, but she didn’t want to lose hope just yet.
If only her employees knew that her grandest plan to seduce her right hand would be to literally pay him. She’d be a laughing stock.
But what choice did she have? Adrien wouldn’t have entertained the thought of her flirting back actually being true, and ten years of bantering between them hadn’t been enough for her to convince herself.
She holstered her gun underneath the cabinet. Shrugging to herself as she left the bathroom, she flicked the lights off, casting herself and her bedroom into total and complete darkness.
She almost lost the ability to swallow when two leathered hands pushed her up against the wall, effectively clamping her mouth shut with a palm.
Her back hit against the wall, and she was thankful that there were no shelves nearby. Her head thunked back, making her dizzy, but she was able to keep her head on straight enough to kick out with her knee.
“What the— Jesus— that’s a painful knee, ow!”
She slammed her fist hard into their side, too— knuckles deep into hard flesh, just barely passing the familiar leather of a shoulder strap. The attacker hissed in pain, dropping his hands from her mouth, gloves squeaking as they cupped her hand and pulled her off of his torso.
“Hey— hey. Watch it, that hurt. I think you got my kidney. Or spleen. Whatever.”
Disappearing and reappearing like the night was his. God damn it.
“What is wrong with you—” Marinette’s voice pitched high when he grabbed her by the thighs, pinning her up to the wall and wrapped her ankles behind him, undimming the lights with a long arm at the switch.
Oh. Oh.
Her vision spun in the low light, her head resting back up against the wall. Adrenaline washed away nearly the instant she actually saw him, but her arms curled at the base of his neck, fisting deep into his blonde hair. “Adrien, I almost shot you. You could’ve died.”
She took his appearance in, watched how wild and animalistic his eyes got by just looking at her. She wanted to ruin his hair. Run her thumbs under his canines and see if they’d prick her from how sharp they looked. Bruise him with her lips, down and past his familiar black button-down. She wanted to pull him apart.
But it looked like she wasn’t the only one who looked like they wanted to concede to the pleasure, with the way he looked all but ready to consume her.
Adrien chuckled, taking one of his hands to pat at the second gun holster just near his armpit, lips pulling into a wolfish smile. She realized belatedly that he could keep her pinned to the wall with just one arm, and she tried not to think about it too hard. “You mean with this gun from your safe, my Lady?”
Marinette frowned. That was her prized possession. It was her first gun she owned, now safely secured in Adrien’s shoulder holster. “How did you open it?”
“You’re kidding.” Marinette knew he was holding back as much sass as possible, trying to bury his eye roll into her shoulder. She groaned when he bit on the skin on her collarbone. “You think I can’t open a simple safe? Seriously?”
“I waited for you for the entire week.” She didn’t blame herself when her legs squeezed him around his middle, a soft sigh escaping as his tongue made good work trailing up her neck. “I— I thought— you weren’t going to show.”
He hummed against her skin, “I had a couple of things I had to take care of in my civilian life. Plus, I’ve been coming into your house every night looking for you. This place is a maze.”
“Some mercenary you are— ah—” She yipped at the particular bite he gave her just under the ear in retaliation, that low buzz of unfinished arousal starting to flare back up after nearly a week. “T-the payment for this job is most of my bank account and you couldn’t even find me in my own house.”
Rich laughter poured from his lips, and he peeled her off the wall, securing most of her weight onto his hips. One of his hands found the swell of her hips, smooth leather digging nicely into her skin under her slip. His eyes rolled when she tugged the back of his hair, thick blonde locks between her fingers. His smile was enough to make her sigh again. “Come on. I have plans for you, Marinette.”
Her entire body steamed hot at her name. Why did she wait so long to give it to him, again? Why did she deprive herself of this? “Do you, now?”
“I think you’ll like them.” He nosed her jaw. Stared at her with molten eyes. “Walk willingly to my car, nice and easy. Or want to pretend that I’m kidnapping you? How opposed are you to being thrown over my shoulder?”
She tried not to bite her lip at the idea. “I’m not dressed.”
It was as if he’d finally noticed her attire, pupils blown. He pulled back slightly, taking his right hand to fiddle with the peaking lace from underneath the slip. The leather glove was cold against her chest, and she sighed desperately. “Hm. You may actually be over dressed for what I have in mind.”
“Let me get a coat.”
“Not a chance.” He shook his head, smile darkening. Her outfit wouldn’t conceal her skin pebbling up at all.
She raised a brow, thighs tight on his waist. She could feel every single hard plane in his body nestled between her legs. She’d dreamed of him being underneath her for years, but to experience it in real life was almost too much to bear. She could feel want and pleasure crackling just under her skin. “It’s freezing outside. I can feel it on your gloves.”
“It’s too bad I’m kidnapping you so that I can interrogate you privately, my Lady. It’s almost as if I get to choose what happens.” He shrugged, albeit distracted by the pattern of the lace that disappeared down into her shirt. He licked his lips.
“Shoes, then.” She hid a private smile by kissing his stubble just as he tilted slightly to kiss her on the mouth. Make him wait for it.
Dangerous green eyes flashed at her, being thoroughly teased. She always loved that fire in his eyes. Adrien’s jaw hardened. “No.”
“No?” Marinette pulled a bit harder on his hair, her teeth parting into a mock snarl. She’d win this one, she was sure of it. “Oh my dear Chat Noir. Are you telling me what to do?”
She knocked into the wall again.
He gripped her hip tight enough to hurt, not afraid to prove to her just how gentle he had been when pinning her to the wall in the first place. His ring was cold against the swell of her ass, sharp and obvious.
Enjoyable heat curled viscously in her core as her vision spun from being pressed into the wall.
Oh, yes.
How had she survived nearly a decade without those hands bruising her like the way she needed? How had she given up feeling the pleasure of those hands pushing her like she weighed nothing? “Only for tonight, right my Lady?”
“Maybe I’ll put up a bigger fight.” She exhaled, showing teeth as she smiled. His hand on her hip was nearly crushing, leather squeaking with force. His knuckles were most likely white underneath the black leather, and her toes curled as her breath kept escaping out of her lips from the way he crushed her. “You know I don’t like being told what to do.”
He snorted. “Even when you pay me literal millions to have my way with you, you still refuse to bend to it.”
She laughed, genuine and clean. “No one’s been able to get me to. Maybe I like the thrill of someone trying to put me in my place. But I don’t have any self-preservation when it comes to you.”
“That’s one of the things that I love about you, my Lady.” He swallowed. Marinette tried to breathe, wind knocked out of her, body hot with want. “And just so that we’re clear, I’m not doing this for the money.”
“Then do a better job of convincing me of your want for me.”
“I think I’m convincing you enough.” He raised a brow at her, gesturing at the way her other hand smoothed down the front of his black button-down, drawing figure eights on his pectoral. What she wouldn’t give to rip the shirt apart and scatter the buttons in all different directions, and to be finally able to sink her teeth in him.
“Hm. No. Not enough.”
“You can drive my car.” He bartered.
“I don’t know where you’re kidnapping me to, Adrien.” She whined softly at the pain as he squeezed harder, eyes nearly rolling. She hissed as he let go, sure that the bruise would last longer than the hickeys on her throat. She hoped it would stay there for the rest of time.
“I could keep you here instead, and we can do everything your way.” He shrugged again, jostling her arm higher up on his shoulder. She weighed nothing to him. How easy would it be for him to snap her in half, if he wanted to? To get his hands firm on her neck and twist? “But I’ll never show you what I had planned for you if you don’t come with me.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about me coming with you.” Her voice pitched.
She started to steam with embarrassment.
“Who would’ve guessed that you actually flirted back.” He laughed into a glove, after letting her words steam in the air for a moment. “After all these years. You actually flirt. You have a name. You have a family. You like me back. It’s like I’m rediscovering you all over again.”
Her voice came out a little too breathy. “My name, my body, and my money is yours now.”
“As is mine, my Lady, but I’ve told you already that I don’t want the money. I’ve only ever wanted you.” He quieted for a moment, letting her run her nails at the back of his scalp to her heart’s content. “You’re my everything.”
“Your everything?” She found herself raising a brow.
“You and me against the world,” He winked.
“Me and you against the world,” She parrotted, a flirty smile on her face. “Oh, Chat Noir. Always a helpless romantic.”
“How about this for romantic: I’ll let you wear my ring.”
Now that broke her out of her train of thought of just pushing him to her bed and ravishing him, of draining everything out of him until there’s nothing left but a shell. “What?”
“For tonight only. Let me have my way with you, and I’ll let you wear my ring. I don’t want the money— hush— you’re not paying me for this. I’m doing this because I want to, and that I’ve wanted you since the beginning. All I’m asking for you to do is wear my ring.”
She was completely stunned. His ring? The ring he wore religiously, ever since she’d given it to him one drunken Christmas Eve when the two of them had huddled in a backwater city, recovery mission gone wrong? The one he always kissed for good luck ever since she’d drunkenly told him it was a good luck charm? “I—”
His eyes burned with pleasure. “Say you’ll wear it, Marinette.”
“Yes.” Her mouth felt dry. “Yes, I’ll wear it.”
“Say you’ll come with me.”
“Yes. Please.”
“Good.”
He expected her to not show any emotion to the cold— he knew her well enough to recognize that defiant spark in her eye. But he hadn’t expected for her to shift closer to him, her small body wrapping her two arms tight around his forearm, bracing herself from the chill. It was a miracle it wasn’t windy. Still, he walked at a faster pace than normal, opening the door to his car for her to get into the passenger seat in the most gentlemanly kidnapping way possible. She huffed, refusing to wrap her arms around herself.
Not a bad car for a rental. Sleek, black— the inside of the car still smelled new and just out of the factory. He’d never been a fan of Maserati’s— he’d always found it to garish. But this one was almost perfect.
He folded himself into the driver’s seat. “Want me to turn on the heater?”
She smiled. “Such a gentleman. I’m glad you’re the one who stole me from the safety of my own home.”
“I’m not going to let you freeze.” Adrien watched her shift in her seat, captivated by the muscles that moved so gracefully in her thighs. He’d felt the strength of them, forcing him to breathe lighter because he simply couldn’t expand his lungs as much as usual, and he knew now that he would be insatiable for the rest of time. What he wouldn’t give to have them squeezing his face. He wanted to feel their softness between his lips.
He barely caught her mumbling. “Please.”
“My Lady?”
“I said ‘please’. Turn on the heater.” She crossed her legs, upset she had to repeat herself. And here he’d been, enjoying the way the cold made her nipples peek through the lace of her outfit. Beautiful.
He clicked through the screen on the dashboard of his car, warmer air quickly filtering through the vents. She sighed in a silent thanks. He’d gotten the place ready for her, had planned on how he would get her there. But he hadn’t been expecting the clothes, or rather— he hadn’t expected the lack of them. She was always beautiful, always so well put together even when she was on the cusp of freezing. Of course she’d be wearing more black, just to tease him.
But black lace lingerie? How was he supposed to expect that? He’d nearly lost it. He would’ve taken her on her bed, if it hadn’t been for her defiant nature— for that spark in her eye. Of course his Lady would have something to set him up with, she was always thinking two chess pieces ahead. He definitely hadn’t anticipated for her to land a punch straight on him, right when he had been in the process of grabbing her wrists.
It’s what he got for underestimating her, he supposed. His side felt sore, not to mention his leg from her knee.
Breaking into her safe and taking the gun had been the easiest part of the night, of course. He still had it in his holster, had checked the cartridge to see if it was full. Just in case. “If we need it, there’s more weapons in the glove compartment.”
“Please try not to get into a shootout while I’m wearing practically nothing.” She blew damp strands of her hair out of her face, smoothing down her bangs with slim fingers. At the slight turn of his head to look at her, she winked, indicating that she wasn’t being as serious as she sounded. He couldn’t wait to pull his gloves off and touch her everywhere. His cock stirred at the thought.
“As my Lady commands.” He laughed, pulling a beautiful smile out of her. “But it wasn’t in our itinerary for tonight.”
Tonight. Tonight. He could hardly wait.
He took her further out of the city, away from Paris, black sky almost void above them. The highway was empty, no sign of any cars, only his silently gliding to their destination. He hoped she would be surprised at the place he was taking her.
It had been short notice— the paper trail would have been easy to follow, if she had chosen to follow it. He doubted that she had, since she had been surprised to find him in her house and not halfway across the world.
He had been surprised too when he had finally found her stepping out of the bathroom, the scent of lemon soap wafting over him. He hadn’t been kidding when he said her mansion was a maze.
True to his desires, Marinette gasped at the sight of a house she didn’t recognize. It wasn’t as grand as the safehouses, or the house she lived in. This could house maybe half as many people as one of their standard locations, which was already enormous in it’s own right. “I thought you didn’t hide things from me?”
“Oh, I don’t.” He smirked, “I’m renting this place out with my civilian name. I think it would be better if we were completely away from everyone. There are no houses for kilometers around. I’m going on the assumption you’re a screamer?”
She raised a brow, humor in her eyes. “I’ve never screamed in my life.”
“Oh, that’s very good to know.” He recognized the stubborn wave of competition sinking into his gut, knowing that he’d be the first to claim something over her. “I’ll make sure to make that happen.”
It wasn’t until he’d pulled into the garage and parked the car that Marinette folded her legs under her, hands crossing just below her chest. Adrien tried not to stare at how it pushed up pale skin, the lacy cups of her bra just slightly more prominent with her little nightgown strap falling down a shoulder. “Negotiate with me.”
She wasn’t serious. Was she trying to stall? He tried to not laugh. “Absolutely not. Since when do you negotiate with the people who take you hostage?”
She continued— because, well, of course she did, “I do one thing you want, no questions asked. I wear your ring. And then I politely—”
“—Yeah. Sure. Politely—”
“—I politely ask you to let me ride you until you pass out.”
Oh. It was an idea. It was a good idea. His Lady was never short of good ideas. Heat and want stirred heavily low near his spine. “Absolutely not. Counteroffer.”
“Hit me.” She smiled at him, gazing at the way he shifted his legs underneath the steering wheel, taking it upon herself to reach over to his lap. He hissed at the feeling of her hand resting over his cock above his slacks, rubbing with the heel of her palm, and his grip on the wheel tightened to the point that his gloves made audible noise. “Oh, but don’t pretend you hate the idea— it looks like you didn’t hate my offer at all.”
Two chess pieces ahead. Oh, Ladybug.
“Hm. How about: I do one thing I want to do. No questions asked.” He pulled his ring off, the silver metal glinting in the car’s interior light, attempting to feign disinterest in the way his cock jumped in approval of her teasing hand. He held the ring in between his thumb and forefinger, holding it up to his face so she could see it. “You wear my ring. Then, I fuck you into the mattress— and maybe if I feel nice enough, I’ll put my hand at the back of your neck, and then I’ll finally let you come that way.”
Got her.
Marinette stiffened almost imperceptibly, hand in his lap curling. Oh, no, he wasn’t an idiot.
It was in his job description to be attentive to every little detail.
He could see the harsh line forming at the side of her jaw, a tick she had whenever things weren’t going her way whenever she was caught. And caught her he had. The last trick up his sleeve. If this worked, he’d won for the rest of his life.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Deflecting?
One of the most powerful women in the world who could have him killed and bagged in a thousand and one different ways just from a single phone call alone— was deflecting as if she had no other option?
Interesting. “I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at my arms, my Lady. My hands especially. I used to think you were just looking at the ring, but now I understand.”
She blushed nearly the color of her lips. “C-counteroffer.”
“No. That’s my final offer.” He placed the ring in her other hand. “You know what to do.”
She looked at the silver ring in her palm. Any indication that she didn’t want this and he’d make sure to leave her alone. Not even the prospect of eighty million euros was enough to get him to want to force himself on her.
Sharp eyes trailed the bezel of silver on his ring, and she turned it in her hand, pulling away from his lap and sliding the ring over her thumb with a sharp inhale. It was just a smidge too big for her. But it was enough.
Adrien had barely any time to register her moving before she was on him— her knee over the console and the shift knob, encroaching on his space entirely. Cold, slender hands fell on his shoulders, and he grabbed her by the waist, his gloves sliding on the silk of the poor excuse of a nightgown.
Marinette kissed him to the point of groaning. She melted in his touch, all of her soft curves pliable between his palms. Her hands found the back of his neck, and she gripped his hair again, almost pulling when he hummed out something broken.
It didn’t surprise him that she’d be the one to open her mouth first— and he nearly moaned when she captured his tongue and pulled him into her mouth with a slow drag, sending all the blood he had straight into his crotch. When had it been that he’d kissed someone like this? To the point that he could guarantee that he would come in his pants like a teenager if this continued? He couldn’t even remember.
She shivered when his hands disappeared under her gown, having the short garment riding up the sides of her hips as she moved closer. He traced the curve of her waist the best he could with leather gloves, enjoying the way she shivered into another moan. She broke the kiss just as he cupped her bra.
“Take me upstairs.” She licked her lips, swollen and dark. “Have your way with me.”
“Careful now.” If she noticed his voice crack, she didn’t say anything about it. “I could want some nasty stuff.”
She smiled. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Chat Noir. You know I hate doing that.”
He nearly fell over himself getting out of the car, taking the car keys with him. If his grip was brutal on her arm when he pulled her out of the passenger seat, she didn’t mention it, gladly letting him manhandle her into the house via the door in the garage.
Barely using any of his brainpower that wasn’t for sex left, he locked the garage door closed with a button, checking a subtle light at the console table just outside the garage door they’d entered to indicate that the rest of the house was secure.
He led her up the staircase, own walk completely stiff from how it was painful to walk with a boner, faltering slightly at how she shivered from how cold the marble was at her feet. Maybe he should have let her get her shoes. It was too late for that now. He’d make it up to her tonight.
He let go of her once they finally reached the master bedroom located at the end of the hallway, locking the door behind them. Similarly furnished to Marinette’s own bedroom, what really had sold him in the place was the bed. Familiar to her, he was certain, was the style of furniture. He was certain that if either of them made the grave mistake of laying down completely flat on the couch, no amount of want for sex would be able to pull them away from the comfort of it. The carpet rug under her feet was most likely warm to the touch, judging by the way her face lightened.
He pulled the two guns out of his shoulder holsters, making sure she saw with absolute clarity that he was putting them down on the coffee table bordering on the closest wall to them. There was no need for them, but it was also important for them to remember where it was, just in case they were interrupted. “There’s two more inside the nightstand.”
She looked towards the bed, completely silent, and then towards the headboard, and towards the white box on the duvet closer to the pillows. He had a present for her, and he hoped she would like what she saw inside.
Judging by the slow smile, there was no doubt that she was holding back her opinion on the light fixtures in the room, or how heavy the closed curtains looked. She tilted her head at him, wondering when they were going to continue what they had been doing in the car.
He sat down on the couch, just in front of her, with his sore arm at the back of the couch and his legs slightly open. He watched her unabashedly, taking in the sight of porcelain white legs disappearing into black silk.
Oh, beautiful.
“Turn around for me.”
He’d felt the string of her thong that rested above the hip bone just underneath. He’d seen the tops of her bra. But he hadn’t seen the way she looked from a bit of a distance— and he drank the sight in like he was parched for it.
She turned, surprisingly silently without a complaint, letting him look at how pale her thighs were. She smiled appreciatively at him when he groaned, smoothing a small little hand up her side and raising her dress just high enough for him to see the swell of her ass, fluttering her eyes like an innocent woman. He wanted to wreck her.
He smirked when her eyes trailed his body, just as slowly as he had on her, blue eyes settling sharply on his hardening cock. Adrien hoped she liked what she saw, but there wasn’t much to guess when her blue eyes blew open. “What else do you want me to do, Chat Noir?”
“I want you to sit down on your knees.” Oh, he liked the way she bit her cheek at that, clearly understanding what he wanted. He unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of the loops of his slacks.
Marinette blushed a beautiful red, the edge of her mouth twitching. “You can’t be serious.”
He guided her closer, tossing his belt away, letting her settle with her legs folded under her, just between the space of his calves. “I’m completely serious.”
“This is the one thing you wanted to do?” She almost sounded disappointed— and he would’ve believed it if it wasn’t for the way she licked her lips up at him, tantalizingly slow. Her long lashes batted at him as she looked up, waiting for him to guide her.
Adrien’s head went dizzy at the implication that she expected more. “Among other things. But you wouldn’t believe just how many times I’ve thought about this, my Lady.”
All those times where she’d ordered him to do something, red lips pulled in a confident smile that he wouldn’t disappoint her. All those times where he thought there was sexual tension between them as he came back from another completed targetlist. Everytime she passed him folders of confidentials, manicured hands grazing lightly at the edges of his shirtsleeves. All those times that they would have dinner together, beautiful red lips pursed slightly to drink from her glass.
He had spent all those late nights alone, masturbating, miserably hard and aching for her. The thought that this was going to actually happen made his head spin.
Her mouth was delightfully soft and pliable when he reached over to pull at her jaw. Slender hands scrabbled at his zipper, nearly desperate for him, and she pulled him out of his underwear with wide eyes, stopping in her tracks. “I—”
He laughed, petting the side of her lips with his thumb, not at all shy to what she saw. “I would get some photoshopping done for the advertisements I’m sure you’ve no doubt seen. But not usually to this area.”
“God— I believe you.” She looked back at him once, barely any blue left in her eyes, and Adrien had to hold himself together when her tongue came out to lick him on the vein that surged with blood.
Her soft kitten licks trailed up the underside of his cock, breath hot and damp against his sensitive skin. He shivered under the goosebumps that flooded his body, his hand angling his hardness to rest up against beautiful red lips, tightening his fingers around her chin sternly. “Enough. Don’t tease. Suck me off, Marinette.”
With a defiant smile, she swallowed his head, heat and warmth enveloping him, and her eyes fluttered shut when he gripped her nicely at the nape of her neck. His entire body itched to just pull her down more, but he let her get acquainted with the idea before actually shoving her down and use her.
“Yes,” He caught himself saying, fingers flexing into her hair to get her to swallow down more. “Perfect, my Lady. Look at you. Look at how good you take me.”
She gripped the rest of what she couldn’t put in her mouth with her hand, the cold ring on her thumb making him hiss. She began to suck him nearly dry, the other hand fisting the fabric of his slacks at his knee.
Oh god.
He nearly launched off of the couch with the force of keeping his hand still.
She looked up at him, long lashes framing those electric blues, and he could almost feel the smile forming at the sides of her lips. Cheeky. Her hair parted over her shoulder as she continued, black ink spilling over alabaster skin, and it was enough to get him to want to pull his glove off and just fist all of it in his hands and pull.
Her voice cracked when she let him drop from her mouth, small hand corkscrewing at the base, the other trying to shove his shirt up to feel up his torso. A beautiful string of spit connected the side of her lips to his swollen head, and his dick twitched at the sight. “Oh, Adrien. How many nights have I dreamed of this?”
There was something glinting in her eyes, but he refused to bend to it. “Put your mouth back.”
“If only there was a forceful way to keep me there,” Her eyes slid down to the hand that he rested against his lap.
He wasn’t going to make her repeat herself twice. He guided himself back into her mouth, memorizing the image of the length of his dick disappearing into hot and wet and dear god. He pulled off his left glove with his teeth and tangled it completely into her hair, and relished at the dampness of the strands. He lowered her head slightly more down, curling his fingers at the pulse point, barely catching the way her eyes rolled.
Insatiable.
He kept her there as his hips lifted, meeting her mouth without a stable rhythm, chasing the release that stirred so heavily at the bottom of his spine.
The noises she was making. The noises he was choking out of her.
It was enough to make him want to spill down her throat almost immediately.
Her fingers followed the deep cut of his v, tracing ticklish circles into the hard planes of his stomach, almost completely benign and tame if it wasn’t for the way she watched the way his stomach coil with such carnivorous eyes. It amazed him to no end that even when he was the one using her, desperately fucking into her mouth, Marinette never seemed to fully bow down completely to his wants.
As if she wasn’t the one being used— as if he was the one serving her— as if she was on her knees because it was her idea all along.
Let it be his Lady to somehow switch the roles, even without meaning to.
He wasn’t going to last.
No, absolutely not. Ladybug on her knees in front of him? Sucking cock with as much determination and finality as if it was one of her normal jobs? As if she was interrogating a suspect? With the same amount of edge as she had whenever Bourgeois appeared to review paperwork? It was everything he dreamed of.
Obscene and filthy, saliva pooled from her open mouth as she worked him, coating his open zipper and the fabric of his boxer briefs. He shuddered at the scrape of her teeth, or the sound of his skin meeting her face, or even the way her hand on his knee disappeared underneath her to tease herself as she shifted between his legs. He couldn’t stop himself from speaking, every rock of his hips punching something free from within him. “Everything— you’re— everything I’ve— dreamed of— Marinette—”
She sighed against his cock at her name, the breathy air warm against him, tongue almost curling around him as she bobbed. She slurped willingly at the beading leaks of precome, smiling again to herself when he groaned loudly at the particular touch to his balls.
“I’m gonna— Marinette— I’m—” How could he breathe when was she taking him deeper, nails scratching into his abs?
He got her nearly down to the base when his hips finally stopped moving. White heat flourished, finally snapping and filling the rest of his body with warmth. He squeezed the back of her neck just enough to make it impossible for her to move away as he spilled ropes of come down her throat, and had to convince himself to pinch her harder with just enough pressure to make her whine when she whined.
Marinette didn’t back down as he continued to break and shatter into tiny little pieces, letting him use her swallowing throat to his body’s content, tears breaking the corner of her eyes.
His heart rate was impossible to tame down. “Holy— shit— you’re perfect, my Lady. So perfect. Look at what you did to me.”
She popped him out of her mouth with a sharp gasp, strings of white coating the side of her lips as wiped on the back of her hand, leaving him wet in the open air. She coughed out her breaths, and he pulled his hand off of her neck, letting her regain back her breathing.
She smiled wide at him, pleased at his words, sniffling at her watering eyes. Breathing heavy, she swirled her tongue around his sensitive head, only pausing when Adrien attempted to bat her away with a low whine. She kissed him on the underside of his head, where the vein was, enjoying the way his body twitched from oversensitivity. “You know, it’s been a while since I’ve done that.”
“I never knew you were— so good— at it.” He wheezed out, and he tried to not look as completely blinded as he felt when she straddled him, pulling her silk pajama top over her head and slinging it far across the room. He wanted to do that.
She sighed as she thumbed the bare skin that peeked out from his dress shirt, licking her lips at the sight. “Oh, please. I’m not a virgin, kitty.”
He stamped down an involuntary blush at the nickname. “I never— thought you were—”
“—I’ve just had quite a bit of practice in my life.”
There was that lull in conversation again, whenever she mentioned her previous life. The life that had gotten her down to the path of targetlists, and listnames, and bagging, and a dark hell almost impossible to crawl out of.
He’d only gotten bits and pieces of her story before. But it was almost obvious as to what she could be referring to.
“No— no kidding.” He palmed the flesh of her ass between his two hands, squeezing tight at the softness, loving the way she whined and complained at the way it hurt. He knew that she had mentioned once that she had started her way to the top of the organization by climbing a steep ladder of underground jobs to make ends meet, but this really was the final nail in the coffin.
She rocked back on her calves, slotting her ass in between the space just in between the opening of his legs, a bit too far away from his crotch for his liking. She snapped the band of his underwear on his hip, and tucked him nicely back into his pants. “You look more out of breath than me. Cat got your tongue?”
He laughed, throat filled with gravel. The sight of her face smeared with jizz was going to stay ingrained at the back of his eyelids for the rest of time. “Give me a break, my Lady. You try going ten years fantasizing about someone putting their mouth all over you, only to finally get it.”
“You’re right. I wouldn’t know anything about it.” Oh, wasn’t she just being a little pest, running her hands down her body, and tongue swiping across her bottom lip to catch the excess? If he hadn’t just gotten one of the biggest orgasms in his life just now, and if he wasn’t feeling so boneless, he’d flip the script on them easily. Instead, he groaned as she shifted her hips, his cock attempting to stir— even if he was completely overstimulated.
“Give me a minute. I think you sucked out the feeling out of my legs.”
She had the audacity to laugh, soft and sweet like she hadn’t sapped nearly all of his energy with those red lips. “Some kidnapper you are. Easily bested by my mouth.”
“Watch it.” He had enough strength to grab her hand that was in the middle of fiddling with the thin band of her panties, holding it firm enough in his palm that she stilled. He twisted the ring on her thumb back to the correct place, letting the silver plating shine up. “I’m not exactly done with you.”
“Could you get me a towel to wash it off?” It was starting to get into her hair, she was almost sure of it. Marinette’s eyes flickered to the door of what she presumed to be the bathroom, far across the room, on the other side of the bed. She hadn’t expected to get her freshly washed hair dirtied almost immediately. She attempted to brush her hair back with her cleaner hand, but stopped halfway when he got a look in his eyes.
“Maybe.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Adrien.”
“You look good like that.”
“I’ll wipe it on your shirt.”
He snorted. “Like I’d let you.”
“I don’t believe I asked for permission.”
“This is expensive cotton!” She believed him. It was soft to the touch, and smelled like him, but she couldn’t stop herself from imagining how much better it would look if it was on the floor.
“Get me a towel and I won’t ruin it.” She laughed, more to herself, at his dramatic eye roll.
He acquiesced, chuckling to himself as he gave her ass a particularly hard swat with his leather glove. that made her toes curl at the contact. “Fine, fine. But get on the bed. I don’t suggest laying down on the couch, you might fall asleep by accident. It’s too comfy.”
Like she’d be able to accidentally fall asleep. The insides of her thighs were drenched, it was going to be almost impossible for her to accidentally fall asleep while on the cusp on her own orgasm. She let him slip from beneath her legs, watching him walk almost a little sensitively as he crossed the room with dark eyes.
Her right-hand man, the one who was built to be her supporting column in this empire she’d created, reduced to walking like he had jelly for bones. She’d done that. She’d gotten him to this point of relaxation. Pride never felt as good as it did now.
She turned her attention to the bed and played with the ribbon on the box just by the pillows, the velvety texture soft and pillowy on her fingertips. She barely registered Adrien coming back from the bathroom, the corner of a washcloth between his lips as he worked on the buttons of his shirt off.
“I wanted to do that.” Marinette’s mouth quirked when she finally looked back up to him.
His smile was electrifying, and he popped the towel out of his mouth when he was done with the buttons. He didn’t let her take her time appreciating the view of his torso. “Open the box.”
She pulled the ribbon off the top, separating the two long velvet tassels and pulling up the lid of the box. Her eyes widened at the selections of oils and the folded packets of condoms with an array of colors, and had to stop herself from biting the inside of her cheek when she caught sight of a wireless purple wand massager.
Ah. She could be in trouble with that one.
Truly, with the way things stood at the moment, all it would take for her would be one good rub on that vibrating head of that massager and her toes would stay permanently curled for the rest of the night. She’d never gotten off so hard at giving someone a blowjob before.
But Adrien was not an ordinary man. She felt that the wetness between her thighs was well deserved. Especially when he looked at her with stars in his eyes.
She pulled one of the oil bottles out to look at it well, noting the unopened plastic seal wrapped on the lid. Everything in the box looked new. Tucked into the side of the box was the listname envelope, her melted wax stamp ripped off to make it untraceable. “Wait. The listname—”
“I told you.” He wiped at the corner of her mouth with the damp side of the towel, and she tried not to shiver at how lukewarm it was, or how his eyes glittered. “I don’t want it. I can’t let you give me something that could blackmail you for the rest of your life.”
She was grateful that she wasn’t wearing makeup, certain that half of it would’ve smeared off with the way he was rubbing at her lips. “Adrien, I didn’t give that to you because of that—”
“I know why you gave it to me.” He inspected her face and the side of her neck with a surprisingly delicate leather hand, and she curled her hand into the side of his shirt to steady herself. “I know you gave it to me because you wanted to make sure that I had one of the biggest bartering chips in the underground business for the rest of my life, almost like a life insurance. And I told you, I don’t want to barter your name.”
She couldn’t help but feel disappointed. “It was my gift for you.”
He laughed something dark. “My Lady, I’m pretty sure my gift is being able to do what I’ve wanted to do with you for a long time. Hell, if my gift had been what you gave me on the couch, I’d give you ten more years of my life just for another ten minutes of you.”
He was being serious.
Good god, she didn’t deserve this man.
“But—”
“Get on the bed. It’s your turn to walk funny.”
Marinette pulled herself up onto the mattress, trying not to balk at just how the mattress wobbled under her grip, or how tall the supporting furniture made it. She glanced behind her to look at him in the eyes. “Is this a waterbed?”
“You like it?” His smirk was almost blinding, making her thighs all the more stickier. “It’s what sold me on renting the place, honestly. Move your legs.”
She sucked in a breath at the sight of him pulling his shirt down and off his arms, luxurious tanned skin rolling over defined muscle. She’d seen him shirtless countless of times— the first year they had met, and under the guise of being his bodyguard while they hunted for the man who had notoriously started making other bodyguards disappear, she’d seen him in countless outfits at his modeling dayjob. She’d salivate behind her thick rimmed sunglasses and serious posture. But none of the shirtless outfits he’d worn were for her.
But this time. This time it was for her. She couldn’t wait to show her appreciation for it to him.
Her eyes caught sight of the basic stitching on his left bicep, a latticework of wire pinched between peached skin. The stitching was clean, the patchwork was done amateurely but methodical. She imagined the sight of him stitching his own arm back together with only one hand— it must’ve been pretty painful.
His arms disappeared behind her legs as she pulled herself up, as she laid her head down on the blue duvet.
He pulled at his dress shoes one by one, large thunks hitting the ground in quick succession. Each moment he got closer to her, large palms sliding up her sides almost ticklish in nature. Warmth spread on her body easily when he snapped the band of the strap of the bustier, heat seeping in between her legs.
“You’re teasing.” She couldn’t stop herself from biting her bottom lip, watching him with apprehensive eyes as he rubbed the insides of her ankles with slow drags of his thumb, the textures from his ungloved hand and covered one sending ripples of want into her system.
“Hush. I’m enjoying the moment.”
“Adrien.” Her voice cracked, attempting to keep back the desperation but failing.
“Let me have this.” He kissed her calves, voice whisper-soft and deep. “Look at these legs of yours, my Lady. You can’t imagine how long I’ve wanted to do this— how long I’ve wanted to be between them.”
She had a few ideas of how long. It was likely that it was the same amount of time she’d been waiting for, but who’s counting? It wasn’t her— especially not her when he reached down to kiss her.
Much slower than their first kiss in the car, she melted in it, his tongue swirling and licking into her mouth to the point it made her lightheaded. His palms left her ankles, back up to her waist, and the water mattress dipped with a slow wave as he planted his knees on it. He groaned into her mouth, a wonderful noise that made her toes curl, as he pressed his chest up against her, letting her hands roam across his wide shoulders.
His thumbs reached behind her, unhooking the back of the thick black band, giving Marinette more room to breathe. She tried discarding it almost immediately but was halted by Adrien’s patient hands that coaxed her to go slower. Always slow. Always methodical.
He peeled the bra off her shoulders like a gift. He folded the cups on each other, placed it just to the side, and left it be as he continued to make her forget her own name. Two thick points of heat found their way to where the bustier had covered, and she sighed into his mouth, enjoying the way he tweaked her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.
He broke away from the kiss after a particular swirl of his tongue that left her breathless, teeth nipping at the skin of her jaw— then down to her collarbone— then just above where his fingers were.
“Adrien,” She breathed after he continued to worry dark marks into the skin just above. Her fingers had somehow found their way into his hair, coiling tight into the golden locks.
She almost cried when he finally chose to stop teasing her, and the mattress dipped in another easy wave when he pulled her legs up the sides of his thighs to rest the back of her knees on his hip bone.
He wasn’t as hard as he was before her blowjob on the couch, but it was enough to gain her interest as his dick pressed against the back of her thigh almost incessantly, warm and pulsing harshly underneath her, making her core grow even taughter.
She’d seen the extent of how big he could get. She’d memorized the length almost immediately, and could recognize that the cock that poked at her thigh was only halfway back to full length. She couldn’t stop herself from shivering, switching between letting her hands rest above her head to going back into his hair.
“So beautiful.” He kneaded the soft flesh of her left breast as he worked the right with his mouth, thumb swirling just around the peak. He sucked harshly, polar opposite in the way he treated her with his fingers, marking purple splotches on her light colored skin.
Once satisfied with one, he moved to the other, and Marinette whined at the cold air that left her body shivering from wet saliva. His gloved right hand sent stars surging behind her lids as he tweaked her with almost enough pressure to make it hurt. His eyes were dark when he finally stopped, her breath catching in her throat. “God. The noises you’re making, my Lady. You’re so reactive.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know how to respond, too winded to come up with anything remotely worth saying.
He kissed down her side, nipped at the skin just above the last rib, and kissed the darkening marks from his previous manhandling of her until she whined at the pressure he put on the bruising. She hoped that the handprints on her waist were pretty, and beautiful, and were dark enough to last for weeks. She wanted them to be there every time she took a look at her body, hidden under her clothes whenever she was working and interrogating. No one working for her would know that she’d been branded except her right-hand man.
“Is this all from me?” He murmured when he made contact with the dampness between her thighs.
Her face burned, almost shameful at the way her body had reacted. “Don’t tease.”
“Never.” He winked, smile widening when she sighed at his fingers teasing her sex through the fabric.
Her breath hitched again when his thumbs found the thin waistband of her thong. He pulled them down slowly, almost as if savoring the moment, and bit into the most sensitive part of her thigh when he finally pulled it off her second ankle, flinging the thong to the side of the bed. She yelped as the bite bordered on bleeding— could feel the way that his thumbs parted her thighs just close to the apex of her climbing orgasm.
She barely could hold herself together. “Please— please—”
“As my Lady wishes,” She barely heard him before he made contact with her folds, the flat side of his tongue licking a thick stripe all the way to her clit. He sucked her eagerly, teeth grazing the side of her clit, his powerful arms gripping her thighs harshly to keep her from closing in too quickly against the sides of his face as he worked her.
It took eight breaths to calm her from the onslaught, but the next two were all gone from her lungs when Adrien forced his tongue into a point, swirled it once around her clit, before dropping his head down slightly and speared into her. Tears that had threatened to breach when she’d choked on his cock finally fell across her cheeks, squared nails digging into the back of his scalp without worry or care, and her eyes finally rolled when he reached with a long arm to rub his thumb across the front of her neck.
Her building orgasm coiled tighter with every harsh lick, her cries grew louder at the sign of teeth threatening to become harsher, and her legs buckled on his shoulders when a leather finger slipped easily into her. When he finally closed his lips sealed around her clit, her orgasm snapped white behind her eyelids as she squeezed them shut, and she gasped harshly as he continued, forcing her to come harder with every lick of his tongue.
Oh. Oh oh oh.
His leather finger pumped harshly, stretching the orgasm out with brute force, and her knees finally had the strength to push in and close around his ears. She sucked deep, longing breaths into her body, desperately holding onto the tops of his head, silver ring glinting in the light.
She cried out, hips attempting to buck up and leave the onslaught of pressure on her sensitive skin, but Adrien kept her down flat with a firm arm across her pelvis. Marinette’s toes continued to curl behind his head, sharp gasps getting harsher and louder as he forced her to ride the orgasm out in its entirety.
“Adrien—”
He pulled away for just a moment, his two fingers refusing to stop pumping into her aching walls. His lips and chin glistened wet, blonde hair pushed back by her desperate hands, his eyes devoid of green. “You can do it two times in a row, can’t you?”
“I—” Her voice cracked too hard for her to speak. All she could do was nod, the back of her hand wiping at the tears in her eyes.
“Good.” He chuckled, stubble tickling the softest part of her thigh. “Let’s get you to three. Give me the vibrator in the box.”
The gentility of the first orgasm was gone. She suffered under his lips, crying out from oversensitivity. Severe in the way it licked flat and in circles around her, his tongue sent her mind spiraling, her body dizzy and electrified. Her legs cramped from flexing too hard, and she collapsed bonelessly back into the mattress, forcing herself to just take it without straining. The backs of her knees knocked the hard planes of his shoulders, her heels just short of kicking into his spine.
He scrolled the wheel of the massager, turning it on to the lowest setting, and grazed the tops of her thighs with it. Stronger than his tongue, the vibrator made her twitch hard as it neared her center. The silicon head warmed quickly against her skin, smooth to the touch.
She shuddered as he missed her aching nerves, thankful that she wasn’t sent immediately into another spiral of an orgasm, and her hips lifted when he let it sit just below her clit. He watched her, eyes hungry, kissing the sides of her thigh with wet lips as she squirmed.
“I’m going to start begging.” She stifled a sigh with the back of her hand.
“Would you really? If I teased you enough?”
She gestured to the massager in his hand, to the fingers that continued to work through her. “E-enough? Is this not— considered enough for you?”
He laughed. “Marinette, I can do a lot more. I just don’t want you to pass out on me.”
She wasn’t given the ability to respond, the massager pressed hard on her clit. Even on the lowest setting, the second wave slammed into hard. This was the closest thing she would ever consider to be a religious experience.
Just as she started to crest, his scrolled the wheel to the highest setting.
She was gone.
Yes— oh, yes— so painful— so harsh to the point where she saw stars. This is what she wanted— she craved his brutal hands and fingers on her skin. She craved that smirk— those glinting teeth as he took and took everything out of her.
Her chest heaved hard as she sobbed blindly into the flesh of her thumb, biting down on the thickest part of the ring. Marinette cried openly, nerves oversensitive and pushed over the edge, and could barely register his leather fingers slipping out of her to hold her hips down.
She came empty, walls fluttering on nothing, desperately bearing down to have something inside of her. Flashes of color popped up behind her lids as she gasped.
“Beautiful.” She managed to hear a single word. Her world came back with color when the massager clicked off, her legs slipping off of his shoulders. “I told you I could make you scream.”
Had she?
“I don’t— think— I’ll be able to do three. Not like this— not— oh— oh my god— Adrien—” She shivered at the wetness of his glove as he came to trace it over her stomach. Her head spun, post-orgasm, arms weak as she lifted them up into the air to pull Adrien in for a hug.
He laughed as her shaking fingers made contact with the ends of his shoulders, how she kissed him sweetly below the jaw. He groaned at the contact he made between her legs against his crotch, staining his black slacks with a wet spot at the zipper.
“We’ll leave it for next time, then. I don’t want to waste any more time.” Next time. She could barely think of what her name was and he was telling her that there would be more of this. Would this be safe while still trying to run an entire operation? She wasn’t sure her body would be able to take it. She wanted to stay here for the rest of time.
She let her ankles wrap around his back, sliding slowly down his back, refusing to think more about the subject. “Kiss me.”
She tasted herself on his mouth, the bitter taste smearing up against her tongue as he kissed her deep. Long, languid kisses felt like syrup in her overworked brain, goosebumps flaring on her skin as he thumbed the skin below her breasts. She sighed as he broke away and peppered kisses to the underside of her chin. “Getting sleepy on me, my Lady? I’ve never seen you so tender before.”
“Not tender.” She slurred in spite of herself. “Just trying to catch my breath. Flip over, you have too much clothes on.”
Surprisingly, Adrien didn’t counter her, and she struggled to pick herself up from laying down as the mattress went through another slow wave from their jostling. Weak from being overworked, she breathed fully as she sat back on his thighs, her fingers splayed on his abs. She pushed the massager slightly away from them as it fell into the curve in the mattress their weight created, going back to the task of mapping every single texture of his skin to memory.
He almost purred beneath her fingers, green eyes slipping shut easily as she reached up to his collarbones, a euphoric smile on his face. She palmed his biceps, enjoying the heat of his body beneath her fingers, and busied herself with kissing his ribs.
“You’re owning up to the name, Chat Noir. Purring comes so easily.” She commented, liking the way his body stirred under her. He struggled to pull his slacks down further than where she sat, cock thick and resting on his stomach. Flushed. Leaking. Mouthwatering. For the second time tonight she was treated to the sight of how big he was, and it took everything in her power to not blush or widen her eyes, as if she still couldn’t believe it.
His laughter came easy, not paying attention to the way she stared. “Very funny.”
It brought her back to reality. “Would you meow, too, if I continued?”
“Oh, I’ll do more than just purr if you help me get my pants off.” His slacks fell to the floor above his shoes, his socks, and finally the last glove. She sat back on his thighs, leaning to the touch of his hand passing from her navel up to her collarbones, enjoying his worship-esc gaze. He turned to the box for a moment, flipping the lid off and showing her the array of colors. “Any preference?”
“I know for sure you have a strawberry one in here.”
“I should’ve known you were going for your favorite first.”
She picked the bottle with the pinkest hue and read the label carefully for the scent and flavor. Watermelon flavored. She tried again, face staining pink. “I can’t believe you got so much lube.”
Adrien had the audacity to look shameful, her attention still on the box of oils. “We, uhm. We may be here for a while.”
She stilled, hand on a dark red bottle. “Wait. How much is a while?”
“I cleared your schedule for the first half of the week.”
“How did—”
“I got Rena to do it.”
“But then you—”
“She didn’t bother to ask.”
“What about—”
“You really thought she would? Seriously?”
Oh, this man. Finishing her sentences like he already knew all of her thoughts— how was he so perfect?
“But— Barbados—” She’d spent an hour on hold for an airline phone call to redo his flight tickets and she was not about to do it again. She hated being put on hold.
She could only shoot so many bullets into a wall to pass the time before it gets boring and a waste of ammo. And a waste of wallpaper.
“Retirement can wait a little longer, my Lady. I’ve waited for this moment for way too long to just have it be one night. You’re mistaken if you thought I rented this house for only a night.” If he saw the shock on her face, he ignored it in favor of pulling out a dark green bottle from the box as well as a strip of condoms. “I think strawberry is this one. The colors are redundant. Terrible marketing.”
Oh.
She thought that this was going to be it.
She thought that she was going to wake up in the morning and he would be gone.
She thought that he would leave her completely deserted the following day, back to his plans of hiding for the rest of his life.
Want surged in her at the thought of him staying for longer, knowing that she didn’t have to prolong this night for as long as possible in order to enjoy their time together.
She caught his lips with hers, kissing him harshly and frantically. He rested his hands on her waist, crushing her to his chest. She enjoyed the heat of his body, loved the way she almost melted onto him.
“We don’t need the condoms.” She almost winced at how desperate she sounded, her hands antsy on the lube bottle he passed to her while they kissed.
He paused, pulling back just slightly, enough to break away. “Oh. Do you not want to—”
She laughed breathlessly, tossing the foil packets back into the box. She followed him back with her mouth. “Oh no, I do. Definitely do. You just don’t need them. I have an implant, you’ll be fine.”
Recognition dawned on him, his hands closing hard on her waist. He licked his way into her mouth, soft sighs muffled by her lips. He kissed her like he was on a mission, with just the amount of determination and drive that she always expected him to have. She fisted the bottle in her hand, resting her arm just above his head as she kissed him, matching him with the same ferocity.
He broke away from the kiss, panting into her mouth. He slipped out from underneath her as well as he could while the mattress rocked beneath them, pressing her up against him. A long arm passed her shoulder and reached for the bottle in her hand, and Marinette shuddered at his chest meeting her back. She leaned back towards him, letting him hug her from behind.
He broke the seal off the lid with the side of his nail and peeled the plastic away. He flipped the cap open while his hands were still around her, and squirted oil liberally into his empty hand. Adrien flipped the cap closed with his thumb, and she bit back a squeak as he reached down and massaged a generous amount of oil on her overstimulated core.
Sensitive skin thrummed under his hand, the inners of her thighs already slick with arousal. Slick and cold, she shivered at the two fingers that slipped in between her folds and coated her well, before disappearing behind her entirely.
He placed the oil bottle next to her calf, and a firm hand on her shoulders to push her down to the bed. She complied with his hand, and bit her cheek at the feeling of something prodding at her thigh. He kept his dry hand planted on her back to hold her down, and lined himself up using his lubed hand. Marinette tried rocking her hips back to help ease him in, but he laughed.
“No. We’re doing this on my time, my Lady.”
She shifted her hips either way, not above begging. “Please?”
“Easy,” She heard him say, but was too focused with the way he speared her from behind. In one quick snap of his hips, he rooted himself in her. It was easy to slide in so quickly from the amount of lube, and how she’d been loosened up from both orgasms— and the slow burn of him entering was enticing enough for Marinette to nearly moan.
He was a heavy weight behind her, with his broad shoulders and broad arms encasing her to make sure that she wouldn’t try to change their positions. She sighed into the mattress as it rolled from their movement, letting her arms fall above her.
Even with the two times orgasming, his cock made her feel full to the point of stinging— such a delicious feeling that it made her eyes roll. She caught herself gasping louder at the second snap of his hips, and then the third, and couldn’t contain her pleasure from the way her hips moved in a steady pattern along with him.
He anchored himself with a hand on her shoulder when she sucked in a breath. “Oh god. Adrien. Adrien.”
“So pretty. So beautiful.” He punctuated each word in accordance to the rhythm that their hips met with each other. “Look at you.”
His other hand traced her everywhere almost impatiently— in her hair, fisting at the root— or at the waist where her body nipped the smallest and where his hand also seemed the largest— or even at the bluish marks at her hips where he gripped her with a passion and a heat she only recognized in his eyes after being given a listname that she considered a challenge.
His calloused hands were everywhere on her as she chased release on him, and she whined hard into the crumbling blue duvet below her clenching fingers. Her back bent hard, a familiar curve to her spine, pressing her chest down into the mattress. Why had she waited this long? Why hadn’t she done this before?
Why had she waited before he’d almost slipped away from her entirely in order to have this?
Thick coils of heat built up in her body just at her core, and with every moment of meeting his hips, she felt herself getting close to the edge. She couldn’t help herself from biting down on the ring on her thumb, gasping loudly at the hand coming up and squeezing at the back of her neck.
Oh. Oh.
“You’re tightening up.” Adrien had the audacity to laugh at the way she whined and scrabbled at the duvet, breathless and deep.
“Don’t tease— oh—” She could barely get the words out, goosebumps erupting on her skin as he used his fingertips to squeeze harder. She forcefully tightened around him in retribution, and smiled to herself when his hips lost rhythm. He wasn’t the only one with tricks.
He clamped his hand at her neck fully.
“Adrien— Adrien—”
He was feverish, chasing his release, hips stuttering against her fluttering walls. “Go on.”
Marinette saw stars.
Her orgasm seared white in her mind, breath labored and heavy. She cried endlessly into the blankets beneath her, nails dug into the fabric so deep that she threatened to rip. Everything stung as she crested– everything she’d endured in the night was piling high on her. She couldn’t breathe– her throat tight from how he squeezed her, her face pushed into the covers like he was suffocating her.
He came as she gasped for breath, coating the space between her legs sopping and white and sticky. She winced at the feeling as she dripped– the way he pulsed between her legs and groaned– relaxing his hand from the back of her neck.
His hands traced circles and loops and shapes on her back as he slipped out of her, letting her hips flatten against the bed.
“You okay?” He rolled to her side, gasping for breath.
“I’m going to have to shower again.” She spoke into the cover.
“Me too. Just give me a second.”
“Are you out of breath?”
“Are you?”
“Deflecting is never a good look on you, kitty.” She huffed, turning her head to look at him.
He was at eye level, thank god, laughing into his part of the bed, also on his stomach.
His skin beaded with sweat against his shoulders– beautiful and perfect golden skin that was still so appealing to look at. It didn’t surprise her that she wanted to sink her teeth into him still, and mark him as hers. “I’m going to have to say no, I’m not out of breath. I feel like if I say yes you’re going to worry about if I’ve got what it takes to keep working as a hitman.”
“Well, you are the one who’s retiring,” She smiled. “So I don’t think it matters that you don’t have the stamina anymore.”
“Was.”
“What?”
“Was. I was retiring.” He traced circles onto her shoulder, going back up to her face and tracing her cheekbones with a thumb. “I’m not going to, anymore. I’m staying with you.”
She stilled, her chest tight, reaching up to her face to clasp at the back of his hand. She shivered from the coldness of his ring touching a new part of her hand, sapping out warmth. “Because it’s me and you against the world, Adrien?”
“Oh, look who’s being the romantic sap now?” His smile widened at her groaning. Why did she even bother? “Yes, Marinette. It’s you and me against the world. Always.”
She wouldn’t cry– she wouldn’t let herself– and yet– “A-and your house in Barbados?”
“We can visit there together,” His eyes were shiny with amusement. “I want to see this house. I’m going to. I have to– I argued with the architect for a whole year about the master bathroom. It’s hard to find tubs that can actually fit me. I’m going to see it, god damn it.”
“Even if it kills you.”
“Even if it kills me.” He parrotted, sharing a laugh with her.
“I’d love to.” She spoke in their silence, as Adrien’s eyes continued to wander over her face and hair and naked body. “I’d love to go with you. I’d– uhm. I would love– ah. Damn it. Give me a second– I stutter.”
“You do?”
“Sometimes.” She shrugged, trying to alleviate her embarrassment. “It– it was a– oh my god. Hold on. It was a habit I got out of as a child, but every now and then it’ll show up.”
His eyes widened. “I am so happy I get to find out everything about you.”
“It’s embarrassing,” She laughed, “don’t pretend that it’s endearing.”
His eyes were starlight. “Oh my Lady, don’t even joke, it’s not pretending if I genuinely think it is. Besides, I believe you were trying to say was something along the lines of: I love you. Am I right?”
“Don’t rush me, I was getting there.” She wasn’t frowning, not with the way he was looking at her. She rolled her eyes. “But yes. I do.”
“I love you too, but that’s not really a surprise is it?” He grinned. “Come on, let me show you the shower before you fall asleep. You’re not going to believe the decor in this place, my Lady. This place is like a castle.”