Work Text:
Adrenaline
She appeared to him like an oil portrait, her face softly aglow in the golden-yellow of candlelight. Gentle shadows caressed the restaurant’s hushed interior, and in the glimmering dance of light and dark, her deep blue eyes were like opals.
She raised her glass to her lips, and he watched the wine drain slowly into her mouth. He briefly humored a trite remark— something about jealousy over inanimate objects —but it was just as soon gone like a whisper.
She swallowed and set the glass back down. “What?” she questioned, her voice a throaty hum that sent tingles down his jaw.
He drummed his fingers on the table, holding her gaze and drawing out the quiet for a moment. “Just admiring the view,” he finally said, a coy smirk curving into his mouth.
She chuffed, her eyes flickering to the side, only to find him again with a matching intensity. Her hair was styled into a low bun, set in place by a long, tastefully crafted hairpin he didn’t recognize, leaving her neck bare and inviting.
It was hard to keep his eyes away.
He scratched the bridge of his nose. Granted it had been a while since he’d had her all to himself, but there was a certain twisted joy in prolonging self-denial that he’d grown to savor.
And now with the two-day regional conference finally behind them, he had the rest of the night to show her how much he had longed for her, their candlelit dinner in this quiet corner of a city unknown to either of them the overture to a much delayed testament of intimacy.
He raised his own glass and took a sip. “That a new hairpin?”
She fingered a stray lock of her dark hair, her face brightening a notch with a playful smile. “Mm. Thought I’d treat myself to a little souvenir.”
He forked the remaining piece of his steak au poivre and brought it to his mouth. “It suits you,” he said, before closing his lips around the food.
She returned his compliment with another smile, the sort that made her eyes gleam. “Thanks. It’s actually pretty nifty.”
He chewed slowly, then washed down the richness with another sip of wine. “Nifty?”
She tapped the end of the hairpin with a finger, swirling her glass in her other hand. “It doubles as a blade.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “That’s new.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?”
“Well it’s just—” He traced the stem of his glass with a thumb. “I’ve never taken you for a femme fatale. Thought that was more of Coop’s thing.”
Her smile deepened. “You’d be surprised.”
“Oh you’re always surprising me, I know that.” He chuckled. “The question is— should I be worried?”
She shrugged. “It depends. You trying to mug me?”
“Well—“ He held up a hand in a flippant gesture. “I am a little strapped for cash…”
“Perfect.” She gestured toward the door. “We can step right out for a live demo. Would you like it from the back or the front?”
He took a moment for that remark to settle. Then he snorted, drawing a hand across his mouth and shaking his head. “You are on something tonight.”
She perched her chin on her knuckles, her eyes narrowing with mischief. “Maybe.”
The laughter they spilled together did little to quell the growing tension. It only burned forth like kindling to a gale, and he wondered how much longer he could indulge this come-hither charade.
All in due time, he reminded himself. A long night lay ahead.
At some point their table was cleared, and dessert was brought out in ramekins dusted lightly on the edges with confectioner’s sugar. He heard her spoon cracking through the shell of her crème brûlée, and he followed suit.
He tasted the rich custard, taking care not to let the jagged bits of caramel stab his tongue, all the while watching her subtle reactions as she ate.
She made a satisfied noise, the smallest of moans that made him feel a certain way, and it took him every bit of willpower to stop himself from taking her chin and licking off the bit of cream she’d left on her upper lip.
Instead he leaned forward. “Hang on, you got a little— there.” He swiped the cream off with his thumb, then slowly took it in his mouth as he eased back into his seat.
He could tell she was watching him as he drew his thumb out of his mouth and wiped it on a napkin, feeling doubly satisfied when she cleared her throat.
“Delicious,” he muttered just loud enough for her to hear and picked his spoon back up. Then he paused.
Beneath the tablecloth her foot, now bare, had found its way against his leg. It moved in a slow trek up his shin and over his knee until it finally curved its way around his thigh.
He looked up and found her gazing at him intently, a faint smile playing on her lips. Then she turned her attention to her dessert, showing absolutely no sign of retracting her leg.
He smirked. Two could play that game.
He laid his spoon down, then reached under the table and slid his hands around her leg, giving her calf a light squeeze.
A soft gasp escaped her, but she quickly recovered, her features reorienting into a mask of nonchalance— an Oscar-worthy performance.
He drew her foot in closer, ignoring the heat coiling below his belt.
“You’re not gonna finish that?” She motioned at his ramekin with her spoon.
He slowly kneaded the arch of her foot. “I’m pacing myself.”
She smiled, pulling her bottom lip with her teeth. “Is that right?” she all but crooned.
“Mhm.” He reached up to her thigh where the end of her stocking met smooth pale skin. He hooked his fingers under the fabric slowly, then began tugging it down her leg.
“Robert,” she warned, her voice impossibly steady. Her face remained a mask of practiced composure, but the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth betrayed her frenzied inner state.
He smirked, then rolled the stocking back up, taking his time to smooth out the creases. Then he dragged his hands down the length of her leg and rested them on her foot, squeezing it gently before letting go.
Without another word, he took a big spoonful of crème brûlée.
The caramel broke in his mouth with a loud crunch.
—
Cold air flitted on her skin as her gaze roamed over a darkened world, the only light ahead emerging from lamp posts that mirrored one another in a ghostly progression down an empty street. She closed her eyes and welcomed the frigid touch of the city, a much-needed distraction to the dangerous game that had accompanied the conclusion of their meal.
Whatever had made her act so brazenly was a matter of reflection for another time. At the moment her mind was adrift with only thoughts of him— of his eyes, his smile, and his touch… so gentle yet electrifying beyond compare.
Her grip tightened ever so slightly around her purse strap as she recalled the sensation of his hands caressing her thigh.
No. It hadn’t been just the wine.
Speak of the devil.
He sauntered down the low stairs that led away from the restaurant and stopped at the moss-patched pavement where she stood. Against the street lights, the angles of his face grew sharper, adding to the roguish glint in his dark eyes.
He stepped into her shadow, and she let him take her chin and kiss her tenderly. She shivered— but not from the cold.
“Thanks for dinner.” His whisper tickled her lips, the scent of wine and caramel lingering on his breath.
She answered him with a low hum and a smile and nothing else, letting her eyes do the rest. He merely smirked and took her hand, pulling her gently toward the urban nightscape that lay before them.
They walked in even steps, the silence between them thick and charged. Each lamp post and storefront and landmark they passed only seemed to fuel their anticipation, fanning their unspoken desires to greater heights. The hotel could not have felt any farther away.
“You know, we could call a cab if you want,” he said as they turned a corner. They passed another couple, then a group of college kids stumbling their way to their next buzz.
She shot him a knowing glance. “We could. But this is nice too.” She raised a brow. “You’re not cold, are you?”
He shook his head. “Nah. I mean, it’s a bit nippy compared to Torrance, but I’ll live.”
She chuckled, the sound of it low and velvety. She leaned into his face until his freckles came into view, her nose lightly brushing his cheekbone.
“Good,” she purred.
His steps ground to a halt. She slipped away from his grasp and walked forth a few extra paces before doing a perky little spin on her heel to face him again.
She tilted her head and folded her hands behind her back, leaving him time to gather himself. “Everything okay?” she called to him with all the innocence she could muster.
His expression was one of helpless joy and quiet frustration, the part of him she never failed to tease out and took great pleasure in witnessing.
He chortled, dragging his eyes to the ground for a moment. “You—” He raised his head, a crooked grin spreading across his face. “What are you doing to me?”
She ran a hand through her hair and shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He straightened up, the cocky glint returning to his eyes. “Oh, but I think you do.”
He drew closer and she let him take her into his arms. For a second she felt breathless as his hands latched on to her waist. Her own hands trailed up his chest and slid around his shoulders, locking together behind his neck.
“Maybe I just had a long day,” she crooned, brushing his cheek with her fingers as she gazed deeply into his eyes. “Or maybe I just missed you.”
He lowered his head. “Is that right?”
“Mhm.”
Their lips met— a soft, feathery union like the one they’d shared outside the restaurant. She noted with no small satisfaction the quiet urgency in the way his mouth moved over hers. Slowly, she let him deepen the kiss, sighing as she tasted his tongue. A groan issued from his throat, and she felt his hands slither down to the curve of her ass.
“Easy there cowboy,” she muttered through the kiss. “We’re still outside.”
He broke off to trail his lips down her neck. “And?”
She shuddered as he nipped her pulse point but worked up enough resistance to pluck his hands off and return them to her sides.
She tapped his nose. “Wait til we’re back in the room, mister.”
Then she drew his face down— low enough that her mouth grazed the shell of his ear.
“Then you can ruin me all you want.”
Bullseye.
A rough sound escaped him, something between a sharp exhale and a chuckle. “That’s quite the incentive,” he muttered breathlessly.
“Do your best,” she teased. “I believe in you— Mecha Man.”
He bit his lip— apparently a last-ditch effort to rein in his laughter. She was enjoying herself a bit too much. He would have to be rewarded amply for suffering her to this degree.
An image of him flushed and gasping crossed her mind. She averted her eyes and distracted herself by scratching his chin, yet she couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking about her in the same way.
Then she heard the whistling.
She peeked over his shoulder and spotted the culprit— a wiry man with a nose ring and multiple studs dotting his brow. Behind him were four others, their faces teeming with something ugly and cruel.
Robert had noticed too. His playful smirk had flattened into something more serious… and possibly lethal. His shoulders grew rigid.
“Hey.” She tugged on his sleeve. “Just ignore them.”
His expression softened as he found her again, though his eyes remained wide and sharp. He took her hand, and they resumed their walk back to the hotel.
They’d only taken a few steps when Nose Ring whistled a second time. “What’s the rush lovebirds?”
Robert kept his eyes ahead but she could see the tightness in his jaw. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, quietly reminding him that not all battles were his to bear. Sometimes walking away was enough.
He responded with a wry smile, as if to assure her that at the very least the first punch won’t be flying from his end.
“Yo I’m talking to you!” Nose Ring continued, his voice shrilling up a notch. “What’s the rush? Your man forget his Viagra or some shit?”
The group erupted into hoots and laughter. She could tell they were trailing closer, and her pulse began to climb.
“I doubt they’re gonna leave us be anytime soon,” Robert said matter-of-factly. He wore a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
She kneaded his arm. “They haven’t started anything yet and neither have we. Let’s keep it that way.”
Doubt colored his expression. Still he squeezed her hand. “Whatever you say,” he muttered.
Just then a beer bottle whistled past their heads, shattering on the pavement before them. Bits of broken glass strayed and spun off the ground from the impact, landing by their feet in an insulting sprinkle.
Her heart-rate spiked. She exhaled through her nose and felt her hand curl into a fist.
He slowed to a stop to inspect her legs. “You catch any shrapnel?” He spoke coolly, but the hardened look on his face said otherwise.
“I’m fine,” she said, stealing a quick glance at the approaching gang. They were still some ways away, but not enough to ensure safe distance.
“Let’s just go,” she whispered, taking his arm. He was staring them down, a quiet storm brewing on his visage.
To her relief he tore his eyes away. They resumed walking, though at a quickened pace.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “But it’s five against two.”
“I’m aware.”
“It’d be a different story if I had my amulet obviously.”
“Of course.”
They were nearing the mouth of an alley. The gang was still behind them, steadily gaining ground.
She slowed her gait and turned to look at him. “Do you trust me?” she said.
“With my life,” he replied without hesitation.
She liked that answer a bit more than she wanted to let on. She cleared her throat. “Okay, see that alley over there?”
“Yep.”
“We can cut through there and lose them in the backstreets.”
He nodded. “Evasive maneuver.”
“Right.” She sighed. “It’s our safest bet.”
He inhaled sharply, and for a moment she was struck with a profound fear that he’d opt for the far messier, bloodier alternative.
He nudged her shoulder instead. “I’ll take your lead.”
She felt a weight slide off her chest. The alley was just within a few strides.
“On three,” she whispered. He nodded.
“One.”
He let go of her hand.
“Two.”
She tucked her purse beneath her arm.
“Three.”
They took off.
Night air sharpened by the narrow passage whipped against her face as the brick wall on her left blurred past, her heartbeat thudding in her ears. To her right he kept up, eyes fixed ahead, every breath and movement synchronizing for maximum propulsion.
They shot past dumpsters, rusted pipes, broken windows, fire escapes, graffiti— all the grimy recesses of back-alley existence eclipsed by the neon veneer of a callous city —and barrelled through tight paths that branched off crudely, guided only by the brutal hand of instinct.
A wild rousing current overtook her, and she felt like she was flying again, the sensation peaking violently like a dose of opiates. Her breath grew into her ears, becoming one with her heartbeat. She felt it around her neck, her eyes, her skull.
Then the wall emerged.
A dead end. She planted a hand on the side of a dumpster to catch her breath. He stood beside her, scanning for another way out.
Her stomach dropped as whoops and shouts issued from the other end of the tight alley— right where they had come through. One by one, the men they’d tried to shake off emerged from the shadows and advanced slowly— like specters sent forth by some malevolent god.
She drew in a breath. “Shit,” she rasped out. “Guess this is it then.”
He squeezed her arm. “It was the right call.” He rolled his shoulders back. “Now we handle them.”
She closed her eyes and expelled a weary sigh. “What a night,” she muttered as she slipped off her jacket and tossed it aside. Then she undid the strap from her purse and held it out to him. “Think you’ll need this?”
He regarded the strap for a moment, then took it gingerly from her hand. She watched him wrap it tightly around his fist. Then he looked at her.
“Hey.” He brushed her cheek with a thumb. “It’s gonna be okay.”
A mix of emotions swelled in her chest. She believed what he said— not because it was true, but because it was the only thing that grounded her at the moment.
She took his collar, then pulled him in for a quick kiss. “To be continued,” she whispered as she drew back.
“To be continued,” he echoed.
They turned to face the approaching men. Nose Ring came into view. He ambled toward them, a series of crude threats spilling from his thin mouth.
His monologue was cut short when Robert ripped off his septum ring.
A strangled wail coursed from his lips before a right hook connected with his jaw. The rest of the gang watched with their mouths slack as their leader crumpled to the ground at an awkward angle.
A beat passed. Then one of them pulled a knife.
She shot forward and planted herself in front of Robert. The blade broke through the leather of her purse and became stuck. Before the thug could react, she folded the purse around the blade and twisted it out of his grasp, then spun around to drive her elbow up into his throat.
Robert wasted no time. He kicked the second thug out of the way and met the third one head-on. The fourth one came for her, brandishing a screwdriver.
He was slow. She disarmed him with a swift kick to his wrist, then followed it up with a hefty strike to his solar plexus. Her eyes widened when he withstood the hit and rushed her.
The dumpster slammed into her back. She felt a grimy hand close around her throat. She gasped, the stink of cheap whiskey and tobacco overwhelming her.
Her vision grew clouded as her breath began to leave her. Mustering every shred of raw will, she reached behind her head, her fingers wrapping around her hairpin. She yanked it out of her hair.
And drove it into his face.
He shrieked as the hairpin tore through his cheek and jammed into his gums. Her throat came free as he reeled backwards, and she ripped the hairpin out in one brutal motion.
She stumbled as she pulled away, clutching her throat, hacking. She felt something wet on her brow. The thug kneeled on the ground, moaning and spluttering blood from his ruined mouth. She straightened up, that wild unfettered sensation coursing through her once more, and kneed him in the jaw, knocking him out instantly.
She snapped her attention to Robert. A sickening crunch sounded out as he stomped on his opponent’s elbow, snapping his arm like a twig. She winced as the man screeched and writhed in agony.
Only one left.
He was the smallest of the lot. Wide-eyed. Thin as a rake. His throat bobbed up and down as he brandished a hammer that made his arms look like toothpicks.
With a frail cry he raised his weapon.
Only for Robert to slap him in the face.
The hammer slipped out of his hands and clattered to the ground. “Ow man, what the fuck?”
Robert slapped him again, this time on the other cheek, causing the thug to twirl around and land on his ass.
He raised his arms. “Okay, okay! I give! I’m sorry!”
She looked at the cowering man on the ground, then back at the man who had left him there.
Robert met her with a dark stare.
She felt her breath slow as she held his gaze. For a moment she felt like she’d been cast into someone else’s dream. There was something light and ephemeral to it all, as if she had crossed over to the other side.
But then he drew closer. She saw the heavy brown eyes and the ruffled auburn hair and the freckles dotting his cheekbones that she counted sometimes while he slept.
He stood before her in the flesh.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” she answered.
They looked at each other for a moment.
Then his lips slowly curved upwards. She too, felt a smile stretching crookedly across her face. Before long they were laughing breathlessly, shoulders quaking, hands hanging onto each other.
The thug looked on from the ground, completely petrified at the sight of the strange couple.
—
They decided to take a cab back after all.
By the time the police had arrived on the scene and taken in the thugs, walking even ten paces had felt like an insurmountable task.
It was just as well. All they had left to do was sit back… and try to keep their hands off each other for the next ten minutes.
They barely made it to five.
It began with his hand sliding across the gnarled leather of the carseat. His fingers came to a rest at her leg, then slowly began to drum against her thigh.
She merely stared out the window, feigning interest in the dark edges of the distant skyline. It was only when she felt his hand crawl toward the innermost part of her thigh that she turned her face in his direction.
His hand stilled. His mouth parted in quiet awe as he committed the sight before him to memory. Her hair had come undone, flowing past her shoulders and framing the soft contours of her face as shadows played across her features and left her with a dark sultry air that he never realized she could so easily exude.
Without a word she took his hand and plucked it off her thigh. Then she slid over to his side and leaned against his chest. She took his hand again, raising it to loop his arm behind her head and let it fall down her back. His hand immediately found her waist and he pulled her close, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. She gave a satisfied hum, then took his other hand and gently guided it to her thigh once more, only this time she allowed him to roam even more inward.
He rested his cheek against her head, a shaky breath escaping his lips. “You’re killing me,” he muttered.
She didn’t answer.
They arrived at the hotel shortly and found themselves alone in the elevator, the ascent to their floor much too slow for their liking. The fight was long over, but the sensations it had left in its wake came crashing back, leaving them all too aware of the other’s presence.
The doors finally slid open and they made their way to their room, hands interlocked tightly. They stopped at 1508.
She watched him fish out the key card and tap it once against the lock. A red light blinked. He tapped it again, and the door became unlatched.
He held the door open for her. She stepped in and let her ruined purse fall to the floor and shrugged off her jacket. He followed her and shut the door behind him.
The automated locks slid back into place. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair.
“Mandy, listen-”
Whatever else he meant to say was cut off as she pushed him against the wall and kissed him hungrily. He kissed her back with equal fervor, running his hands down her neck and her back and sliding them up her shirt. She moaned into his mouth, pulling his bottom lip with her teeth, and began undoing his belt.
“Wait,” he gasped, holding her shoulders. Her hands grew still.
“What?” she panted. “What’s wrong?”
He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You got blood on your face.”
She blinked and leaned out a bit. “Oh… must’ve been from…”
“Yeah.”
A blush creeped over her cheeks. He lifted her chin and kissed her again, gently this time.
“How about a shower first?” he whispered against her mouth.
“Okay.”
They helped each other undress, every touch and every look lingering on the other’s skin like an imprint. Their clothes soon grew into a messy pile on the floor and they moved to the bathroom and into the shower.
What began as a simple act of cleansing quickly grew into something more heated as their lips met together once more in a deep wet kiss. The water ran hot and steamed up, enveloping them in a white shroud, and it flowed through their hair and between their mouths and down their legs to pool on the tiles.
She broke the kiss and drew back to take him in, her eyes roaming over his lean muscular frame, noting the scars that ran over his chest and stomach. She also spotted some fresh bruises on his shoulders, but that was a problem for later.
She took in his toned arms and the taut lines of his pecs with a hungry gaze. He’d been training hard lately. There was a time when she told him that she remembered him looking bigger.
Well… she could eat her words now.
She leaned in and ran a tongue over a scar that curved along his right chest. Then she moved up to his neck, her lips claiming a spot just below his jaw and drawing the skin into her mouth.
She let his neck go with an audible pop, leaving behind a red angry mark she regarded with a smugness that didn’t go unnoticed.
“Turn around,” he rasped.
She complied, smirking as she did so.
The shower had stopped running.
She felt his breath in her ear and shuddered as he pressed himself against her. His left hand slithered down her belly and rested between her legs, his right hand cupping her breast.
He began to move his left hand in slow teasing circles, drawing from her a breathy moan. She felt her knees grow weak, and she slapped her hand against the shower glass to steady herself.
He kissed her neck, then bit her earlobe, his fingers working over her most sensitive spot in a steady but gradually intensifying rhythm. He kneaded her breast with his other hand.
“You like that?” he muttered into her ear.
She could only reply with a thin wail, and he chuckled roughly into her damp hair. She trembled against his touch, the beginnings of her climax brewing dangerously.
Her moans grew louder as he slipped his fingers inside her. He marveled at how tight she was and curled his fingers in, just the way she liked it.
“Robert…” she gasped.
He kept his pace and drank in her scent, savoring the heated sounds that flowed out of her. It was just the two of them now, away from the cold, the concrete, the shattered glass, the blood— the debris of a violent world no more.
His pace increased. Her breath grew ragged. She reached up and drew him into an open-mouth kiss, and he felt her tighten around his fingers.
“Rob…” she gasped into his mouth. “I’m gonna… ohh…”
He curled his fingers deeper inside her, sending her into another wave of ecstasy. He broke the kiss to bite down on her neck, working his fingers even faster. When she finally shuddered and broke, her moans came unfettered and flooded the shower stall.
She dropped her forehead against the glass. A moment of calm passed as their breath evened out and slipped into the rising steam. He planted a soft kiss on her shoulder. “Help you dry off?”
Slowly, she straightened up and turned to look at him. Her face was flushed, her eyes brimming darkly with desire.
He shivered as she reached down and wrapped her hand around his length. She claimed his lips once more, her tongue sliding languidly into his mouth, and she began to pleasure him in slow, measured strokes.
She drew her mouth away and grazed his chin with her teeth. “What’s your hurry?” she purred, rolling her thumb around the head of his shaft.
He inhaled sharply. “None at all.”
Satisfied with his answer she nipped at his chin, then began trailing kisses down his neck. Her mouth roamed down his body at a pace that was agonizingly slow, dragging down his chest, his stomach, then stopping there to savor the feeling of his abdominal muscles tightening against her wet tongue.
He hissed through clenched teeth as she continued her way down. “Mandy…”
She drew her tongue from his pelvis and down his thigh, kneeling on the floor as her hands circled around to squeeze his ass. He groaned.
Then she gently grasped his throbbing length and took it into her mouth.
“God damn…” he rasped.
Slowly, she moved her mouth up and down, casting up her half-lidded eyes and holding his gaze. His breath hitched in his throat. With a shaky exhale, he rested his hand against the nape of her neck as she continued to taste him.
She made a soft noise, something between a hum and a moan, then doubled her pace.
He swore under his breath, tightening his grip into her damp hair. She felt a swell of heat between her legs as his groans settled into her ears.
His length began to twitch and she tightened her mouth, swirling her tongue over the tip.
“Mandy, wait…”
His plea fell to deaf ears.
He erupted inside her mouth, and she held him in, taking every drop of his release. His eyes rolled shut as she continued pleasuring him to the last spasm.
She finally pulled away, wiping the corner of her mouth with a thumb. Then she rose languidly and pulled his mouth into hers.
His hand fisted into her hair as he kissed her back feverishly. She laughed breathily through the kiss before closing her lips around his tongue.
He moaned into her mouth, and she released him with a wet smack. She rested her temple against his cheek, flushed and breathless.
“Now we can dry off,” she muttered.
—
She broke into a slew of giggles as he pushed her onto the bed and climbed on top of her.
Her laughter was immediately muffled by his lips, and her eyes fluttered shut as she drank him in like a rich glass of wine.
The kiss was just as fervent as before but slower, more deliberate this time. Her fingers interlocked with his as their breath mingled, the heat growing once again between their bodies.
Then he drew away, sitting up to regard the woman that lay before him.
Her brown hair fanned out and adorned the cream-colored sheets. His eyes drifted over the entirety of her figure— her defined shoulders, the swell of her breasts, the lean musculature of her abdomen and thighs. He was reminded of a nymph or a goddess of a lost time, and he laid his hand on her cheek with such tenderness that it almost seemed reverent.
The dim orange light of the nightstand played across her face, making her eyes glimmer like distant lanterns.
He leaned into her and kissed her once more, then began his own descent of her body.
Like her, he took his time, lingering on her more sensitive regions, watching how she reacted with every touch, kiss, and bite. She called his name out in a wispy tone as he drew his mouth down her belly and her hips, then finally down to the inside of her thigh where he lay feather-light kisses in slow intervals.
Then he spread her legs open and dipped his head.
She whimpered as he pleasured her with long, heavy strokes of his tongue. He kept her eyes fixed on her face, marveling at how her features grew completely unraveled into a look of pure ruin.
He drew more of her into his mouth and deepened the movement of his tongue, smirking when she threw her head back and moaned his name.
Her hands fisted into the bedsheets as she felt another wave rise within her. She crossed her legs behind his head and pulled him in even closer.
“God… you’re… so good at this,” she rasped.
He was relentless and spared her nothing. The wave grew exponentially, her moans climbing another octave as she ground her hips in time with his ministrations.
Then everything crashed.
She all but screamed as another orgasm tore through her. Still he kept going. He meant to completely drain her, and if their past nights had taught him anything, she was only getting warmed up.
“Robert… inside me… please,” she whined breathlessly.
He wiped his chin with the back of his hand. Then he climbed back on top of her, his length once again hard and vigorous.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” he teased. “Let me hear you say it again.”
“You…” she gasped. “I want you… inside me.”
He chuckled. “That’s better.”
He gripped her knees and spread her legs open. Then he kissed her and entered her slowly, making sure she felt every single inch of him.
A broken cry spilled out of her. He clenched his teeth as she tightened around him.
“Christ, Mandy… you feel so good,” he whispered into her ear.
He drew his hips out, then thrust into her again. She moaned his name, her legs snaking around his waist once more.
He lowered his face to hers, claiming her mouth as he thrust into her repeatedly at a steady pace. She wrapped his arms around his neck.
He drew back just enough so he could look at her. Their foreheads touched as they held each other’s gaze.
“I love you,” she whispered as he continued thrusting into her.
A shiver ran down his spine. “I love you too,” he rasped.
It was then that he hooked his arms beneath her thighs. In one burst of movement, he raised her off the bed and held her upright, his knees sinking into the mattress.
She yelped as he thrust into her even deeper. She managed to anchor herself, and they began to move together.
“Oh my god…” she wailed, gripping his shoulders tightly. He held her waist as she rolled her hips in wide sensuous arcs.
Sweat beaded their brows. She moaned breathy adulations as she continued her erotic dance, her hands now gripping the headboard behind her.
The bed shifted and creaked. She latched onto him again, her hips moving faster and faster. “Robert… I… I can’t…” she cried.
With a grunt, he lowered her back down on the bed, and plunged into her with abandon. Her cries grew shrill as she met him head-on. She hung onto him as she felt one last wave rise to a height she could never have imagined.
Then with a watery cry, she became undone. He broke right after, all but melting into her as he rasped out her name.
Their bodies slowed to a stop like a long exhale. They clung onto each other, breathing hard, as the currents of their intimacy withdrew, leaving them with a feeling of weightlessness.
He rolled off and sighed as the cool sheets met his back. She took a moment to gather her breath, then snuggled up to him and draped an arm across his chest.
For a moment they simply lay there, their breath evening out in the silence.
“Know what I think?” he finally spoke, his voice low and throaty.
Her eyes fluttered open. “Hmm?”
He began stroking her cheek. “I think we both might be a little fucked in the head.” A crooked smile grew on his face.
“Speak for yourself,” she mumbled. Then she huffed. “Okay… maybe just a little.”
He chuckled and kissed her temple.
She sighed, then looked up at him, her eyes drowsy but earnest. “I think we should talk about what happened though.”
His eyes fell to her neck. The altercation from earlier had marked her— a purple ring of bruises right below her jaw.
“But…” She yawned, drawing closer to him. “Nothing that can’t wait til tomorrow.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
She hummed and buried her face into his chest. “You were incredible by the way.”
He traced lazy circles on her back. “Right back at ya.” His mouth lifted in a devious grin. “Though I wouldn’t mind a part-two in the morning.”
“Hmm, we’ll see about that,” she purred.
He switched off the lights.
In the darkness of the room, her ruined purse lay on the carpeted floor.
Through the gash in the leather, the hairpin peeked out, its bladed edge soiled with patches of dry blood.