1. Welcome to Black Dahlia, an adult 18+ roleplaying and writing forum! Don't forget to vote daily for BDRP! The more you vote, the more awesome writers find BDRP, so vote each day! Click here to vote on Top RP Sites, here to vote on RPLovers, and here to vote on RPGFix.
  2. Follow BDRP on all major social media! Tweet at us, Like us, Follow us, Pin our Boards, Reblog us, and check out member Art!
    Dismiss Notice
  3. Looking for more ways to find partners? Check out the Fandom Catalogue and Genre Catalogue!

    Sign up and share what fandoms and genres you are interested in! See who's into the same things you are and give them a shout!
    Dismiss Notice

 Supernatural/Paranormal A Private Foxhole (Dalliance and Deviance)

Discussion in 'Roleplay Execution' started by Deviance, Aug 21, 2017.

  1. Deviance

    Deviance Secret Romantic Member

    Messages:
    287
    Local Time:
    8:21 AM


    Click the arrow for Character Sheet.

    “Fabian,” Richard said, with a telling glance. “Who is that?”

    Fabian noted the person in question then waited until he was looking fully at Richard before he broke out into a feral grin. “That, Richard, is Rachelle.” He smiled at his friend’s crooked eyebrow. “She has been a member here from before you arrived, but stopped coming beforehand.”

    “Oh?” Richard said, interested and comfortable with it. “What stopped her coming?”

    Fabian’s eyes twinkled at the dual meaning. “I would say she became exhausted with men that were intimidated by her.”

    Richard grinned wide. “Is she very intimidating?”

    Fabian nodded his smug head. “She is a private millionaire, fully self-sufficient, independent, and willful. Runs a private firm. She is used to having the world at her feet and men falling all over her. She is a personal friend, and sometimes she still intimidates me.”

    Richard’s cobra gaze flicked to Fabian’s eyes as he lifted his coffee. “How personal?”

    Fabian smiled indulgently. “Personal enough, but not intimate.” He took a sip of his tea.

    Richard squinted as he grinned. “Why do I not believe you, Fabian?”

    Fabian lifted his preening chin. “Because I am drop dead sexy and everyone knows it.”

    Richard laughed at his friend’s cattiness. His voice came out in a hot hiss. “Yes, you are.”

    Fabian’s head rolled back and he blinked, flattered and pacified. “Because I play host on instinct, and she pats me like a brother.”

    Richard tsked. “Oh, I’m sorry brother. You get that from the other side too?”

    Fabian bit his lip, feigning hurt. “Maybe.” He shook it off proudly. “Alas! It is the first time you have asked me about a woman here since Madison, and I am loathe to fail you once more. You should invite her home. Right now.”

    Richard blinked. “What? Why?”

    Fabian spoke fast and snarky. “Because of your silly rule. Enough people know about it and recognize you by now that she won’t be able to get away from you. It’s a one-move checkmate.” Fabian rolled his eyes ruefully. “I wish I had thought of it.”

    Richard rolled his chin back and raised his eyebrows as he watched Fabian.

    “Because it fucking works, and you actually mean it,” Fabian said, defensively apologetic.

    Richard smiled. “It would work for you too, if you meant it.”

    Fabian flashed him a fabulous grin. “Oh, but I can’t, because I wouldn’t…” He crinkled his nose. “I’m too naughty.”

    Richard smirked. “Whipping or spanking is good for that.”

    Fabian’s eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open for a split second, then he asked, “Which do you prefer?”

    “For you? Mistress Cilona,” Richard said. His eyes flitted to Rachelle, then back to Fabian. “For her, spanking first.”

    Fabian lifted an eyebrow. “In the same room?”

    Richard let out a full belly laugh. “You are incessant.”

    Fabian nodded his head in time with the upbeat music. “And so I must be, as must you.”

    Richard toasted to that, took one last sip of his coffee, then ordered two of what Fabian was drinking as he set the rest of the coffee down on the counter.

    Fabian nodded in approval as he swayed to the club beat. “It’s an excellent blend, you won’t be getting any sleep tonight.”

    Richard laughed as he gave a knowing nod. “Exactly.” He bounced his chin at his friend. “Dance with me while I wait for my drinks.”

    Fabian bit his lip as his smiled, and he danced the distance closed chest first toward Richard. Richard took a wide stance as he faced his friend, raised his fists sideways in front of him to set his elbows out in a dancing rhythm as he rolled his shoulders and hips to the music. Richard was in the middle of a ridiculous dance move when the drinks came, so Fabian lifted them for him as he watched and laughed. Then Richard took the drinks, gave Fabian a smiling nod, then melted into the crowd toward Rachelle.

    He approached her from within her line of sight, and when their eyes met he smiled and lifted his chin at her. He closed the distance, then held out both of the cups. She took one and he smiled. “I don’t believe we’ve met. My name is Richard, and I’d like to invite you to come home with me tonight.”

    Rachelle’s eyebrows went up, then one lifted higher than the other. “I want to say I’ve heard that one before, but I can’t say I have.” Her eyes glittered as she watched him lift his cup off the saucer.

    Richard took a sip of the tea. It was sweet, laced with energy and green with life. “Mmm,” he said, savoring it for a moment, then he met her eyes and smiled as he spoke. “That’s my offer. It lasts for the night, and the tea really is good. I understand it is wonderfully energizing.”

    Rachelle smiled knowingly. “And free, no doubt.”

    Richard smiled. “Oh, absolutely not. It’s merely already paid for. Freedom is another thing entirely.”

    Rachelle squinted, a hint of a smile played at the corner of her lips, then she took a sip of the tea. “Oh,” she said, “I know this one. It is of Fabian’s private selection that I got for him…” Her voice slowed down as she put her finger on the taste, then her eyes darkened with suspicion. “You already know my name, don’t you?”

    Richard nodded as he watched her eyes. “And now you know mine.”

    “Do I?” She asked. He could have any number of names at the club for all she knew.

    Richard laid a hand straight over his collarbone and dipped his forehead favoring that side. “Yes. Richard Scott. I go by Richard, and so that is the name you have. Please enjoy your night, and feel free to join mine should you so choose.” With that he took his leave from her, then moved across the dancefloor, approaching the throne that Fabian had put up for him his first night. Since then he’d said that anyone could sit in it, and that the cocoon of sound being between the club speakers created was something that had to be experienced, but anyone he’d asked to try it had smiled and shook their heads, embarrassed. He climbed the steps of the platform it sat on and sat back into its black leather and the world-blanking sound.

    *****

    Leticia sidled back in next to Rachelle. “Girl, you did not just complain to me for the last six hours about how men don’t step up and then turn him down.”

    Rachelle faced her friend. “Uh, no, but he didn’t exactly wait for an answer either.”

    Leticia smiled a dark, wicked smile. “He never does. That was the guy I was telling you about, Domino.”

    Rachelle blinked. “What? He said his name was… Oh, shit.”

    Leticia was loving it. “Did he make you an offer?”

    Rachelle’s eyes went wide. “Uh, he did.”

    Leticia’s face was downright devious. “Does it still stand?”

    Rachelle took a sip of the tea, thoughtful. “It does.”

    Leticia showed her teeth. “Then no one else gets that offer until it expires.”

    Rachelle was quiet for a moment, then looked back to her friend. “Where did he go?”

    Leticia smirked. “Have you found the throne yet?”

    “Oh yeah,” Rachelle said. “Between the speak-... wow.”

    “Yeah,” Leticia drawled. “Looks good up there in that suit doesn’t he?”

    “And he’s been looking for someone to join him up there?” Rachelle asked, taking in the details of the platform and throne.

    “I don’t think he thought of it that way…” Leticia left off as she glanced at her friend.

    Rachelle turned her grin back on the black woman. “Oh, I definitely am.”

    Leticia put a hand on Rachelle’s shoulder before she left. “Just don’t ever call him Sir.”

    Rachelle stopped and turned back to Leticia. “Wait, what? Why not?”

    Leticia’s voice was serious. “The reason he is sitting on that throne is because they installed it for the Veteran’s Day party, and when Fabian called him, ‘Sir,’ Domino told him that the best men in the world had called him that, and they were dead and that here he is Domino. He was sitting in that throne talking to Fabian on stage across the dancefloor, and was speaking quietly, but there wasn’t a person in the entire place that didn’t hear him.”

    Rachelle processed that in quiet stillness, then nodded at Leticia, who then released her.

    *****

    Rachelle ascended the steps, crossed the platform, then set a hand on Richard’s shoulder before she mounted the throne and his lap. Her voice was honey and smoke. “Feel free, right?”

    Richard grinned, opened his eyes to look into hers, then down at her body. “Absolutely.”

    Rachelle smiled, took his hands to put them on her hips, then the song shifted downtempo as the lights around the speakers darkened.

    Richard groaned low and long. “You know there’s a full club behind you, right?”

    Rachelle moaned as she spread her legs and settled into him. “Absolutely.”

    *****

    Four hours later the limo was stopped in front of Richard’s house, and Rachelle was in Richard’s lap in the back seat. She’d slipped out of her panties, and was grinding against his erection.

    “We’re here,” Richard said.

    Rachelle just smiled and nodded into his neck. She stopped kissing him to listen when he laid his hand softly on her back.

    “In that house there are guns, and knives, whips, flogs, shackles, spreader bars and rope, and all manner of other implements. The basement is just as soundproof as the rest of it. You should know that before you go inside.”

    Rachelle kissed his neck. “I’m sure you’ll have everything you need.”

    Richard groaned in pure need, then motioned for them to get out of the car. Once they were out with all their things, Rachelle put her hand in his, and Richard knocked on the driver’s window. When it went down, he fist-bumped the driver. “Thank you again, Hermes.”

    “But of course my friend,” Hermes said. “The house’s compliments to friends of the house. Have a very good evening, Ms Somerset.”

    Rachelle sounded delighted. “Thank you so much, Hermes, I’m surprised you remember my name.”

    “One could hardly forget you, Ms Somerset,” he said, smiling. “You should know, Miss, he doesn’t bring them home in the limo. Not before you.”

    Rachelle gave Richard a tiny smile. “That is sweet. Thank you again, Hermes.”

    The driver smiled. “My pleasure, Miss. He’s a good man.”

    Richard cleared his throat.

    Hermes winked, rolled up the window, started the electric engine, then the car prowled away in silence.

    They took the walk hand in hand, climbed the steps, then he was unlocking the door when she spoke. “Was that true, Richard?”

    He pushed the door open as he glanced at her eyes like he would have contested it if it weren’t.

    She pulled him inside, closed the door behind them, then shoved him against it and pressed her body into his. Her voice came out low and husky. “Nice place, lover.”

    Richard was sliding his hands up her ass when he heard a sigh that wasn’t Rachelle’s. He glanced at her to see if she’d heard it too, and she nodded at him, then he glanced to the living room when another impassioned sigh rang out, and kept going as the person in the video started squirting. He rolled his eyes and took a deep breath, then watched her eyes to see if she wanted to stay for this. She smiled and fell into his arm at his side, his hand still on her ass. He gazed at her with hungry eyes, glanced up the stairs once, then back to her, then turned his attention down the hall where past the landing it opened into a wide, open archway into the living room. They stepped into the archway, and Richard scoffed at the empty bags on the coffee table. “Hey kitten, you didn’t eat all the Cheetos this time did you?”

    @Dalliance
     
    Last edited: Oct 20, 2017
  2. Dalliance

    Dalliance il mio mostro di amore Member

    Messages:
    933
    Local Time:
    10:21 AM
    “You really need to get rid of that gorilla.”


    “Frank,” came the quiet reply.


    “Whatever. The giant fucking purple stuffed animal needs to go. They found out where we're staying and we have to leave, Zoey. Frank can't come with us.”


    A sigh was the only reply Cariss got after that. But the platinum blonde head bobbed her acknowledgment of her condition even if the cerulean blues couldn't quite meet the sharp flint stare that looked down at her. Except she wasn't going to make any move to remove the carnival toy from the premise any time soon. No, it perched on the couch beside the woman, bright purple and a stitched grin on its face. A photo was pinned to its stuffed chest of a grinning man, though in black marker, the words “Farewell” had been marked over his face and a faded pink outline of a pair of lips beside that.


    “Your face is all over the news. They're associating you with all sorts of shit, Zoey. We have to leave, lay low for a while. I have a few contacts that I can reach out to where we can come up with a plan if we have to...”


    This time luminous blues did lift up to touch on the younger woman's face, placid except for the grave dip in her mouth. For everything that was happening, the one involved in the shit storm looked a lot calmer than the stressed expression on Cariss' face. Her mouth was gaped open, moving like a fish as she waited for some other reaction from Zoey. At least she knew she had the other woman's attention.


    “And did you really have to kill Jack?”


    “I didn't kill Jack.” An immediate response. It wasn't what Cariss wanted to hear, despite her having asked the question, but it relaxed her shoulders even though the tension was already cramping her back. Nervously, her pair of Converse sneakers padded the beige carpet of their short term lease, her dark head bobbing. “But I'll take care of it, Emily, I promise. I just need a few days.. OK? Everything will be fine, I promise.”


    Not even a twinge from the other girl at the name Emily. Not this time. Zoey was one of the few people left in the world who knew her birth name, a name that if an official search were done would come up with a Missing Persons report. The picture didn't match Cariss' face now, though. She had switched her own a long time ago with another girl; Emily White was dead as far as Cariss Leonie was concerned, only the blonde had always insisted on facing her own demons.


    “I hope so.”




    ~~~







    It wasn't something that Cariss had ever done. Though now it was far too late to think about what ifs. Two months had come and gone since she had seen Zoey Liadin after that conversation had occurred. The gorilla hadn't ever left the tiny LA apartment on the fringes of the city and Cariss hadn't bothered to move it either. Sure, the pair had gone longer amounts of time without hearing hide or hair from one another, but the situation...

    They had been in this one together.





    I'm cashing in my favor.





    -C





    The text she sent Richard Scott was out of the blue and from an unknown number. Try and look it up again and it didn't exist; this is what the Internet had evolved into. Not that the man had read it before she arrived late in the evening out of Terminal D, a golden blonde bob with a short fringe of bangs that fell over brows that had been filled in with golden brown. Green contacts filled the space that used to be gray, and the young woman who stepped off the plane had enough dark foundation and blush caked on her face that she could win the basic bitch award for best contouring. She had even slathered the gloss on thick so that her lips looked like they were a constant purse – a true LA babe visiting up north in Oregon. The name on her ID in the little crutch purse that fell to her hip was Megan A. Johnson, originally from Minnesota, but now works at Starbucks in the heart of Los Angeles. She goes to school full time as well and wants to be a journalist when she graduates.


    No one looked twice at her inside the airport, nor when she hopped in the back of the Uber she requested from Megan's cell phone that she immediately turned her eyes down to as she began flipping through Megan's Instagram feed, careful not to like any of the pictures of food, puppies, or duck faced grins that popped up on the screen. One leg crossed over the other, both wrapped in a pair of skinny jeans that hugged her hips and traced the curves made more prominent by silicone underwear meant to make your ass pop. Not to mention she was giving a view of cleavage pushed up past the V neck of her top by the additional padding in her bra, a cheap necklace with a rhinestone heart dangling between the crease. As soon as the Uber driver opened his mouth with a big ol' good boy smile on his face and asked how her night was going, she flashed a vague smile up at him before going right back to thumbing through her phone.


    “Oh, you know,” she giggled at him. “Just here to hang out.”


    The dismissal worked for the rest of the drive through to Portland until the Subaru parked in front of the dark house that was Richard's in a suburban neighborhood. How very normal. Her brief, “Byyeeeeee... have a nice niiiiigghhhtttt...” was met with a grin and a wave from the driver. She waited until he was around the corner and out of sight before she threw Megan's cell back in her purse and padded up to the front door in her pair of flats. She didn't bother touching the door. No, she made sure to find his spare key that he hid for the neighbors to come over and water his fucking plants the few times he had to go out of town for his job now that he had turned to the ranks of normalcy. Something she hadn't ever dreamed of doing in her short lifespan.


    The alarm system took a few goes with the help of a device loaded onto the phone to help crack the code – and then it was home free. Eyes tinted green from the contacts peered into the quiet dark of his front hallway before her hand swiped the wall to turn on the light. She didn't expect him to be home for a few hours yet, which gave her time to.. settle. She dumped the back pack latched to her shoulders on his kitchen table once she had meandered inside, but kept the purse glued to her person as she rummaged through his pantry to pull out the bag of Cheetos, hand stuffed inside as she continued her wander of his house.

    At one point, she ditched both the wig and the bag on his coffee table in the living room, but waited until she had stepped into the bathroom to litter his guest bath with bobby pins that had held up the waves of dark hair that tumbled down past her shoulders to rest between her shoulder blades. The side swept bangs were mussed from being trapped under the wig for hours, giving her a disheveled look. Underneath the stark brightness of the bathroom light, she looked like an alien with the make up caked on her face like it ways. Scrunching her features, she grabbed the towel by the sink and started the run of water until both colored contacts and most of the foundation had been scrubbed from her face, leaving splotches of orange and tan all over the white and left the olive toned complexion glistening and bare. Pale gray now studied her features in the mirror, with a darker ring of charcoal in the center of her iris, made to pop by the mascara still clinging to her lashes.


    At least the dark bruise under one eye was almost gone. And the split in her lip was healing nicely.

    She ran her tongue over the mar before turning away from the mirror and her reflection inside it, the flick of the switch signifying that she was done in there. At some point, she had wriggled out of the skinny jeans and the fucking silicone butt tucked into her underwear, leaving them in a puddle on the floor next to the couch. For now, she left the push up on as she stretched out on his couch and grabbed the remote, content to flip channels until she landed on the Softcore section on HBO. Snickering, she let one of their films start to run its course while she snatched up the bag of Cheetos again to settle in her lap.


    Megan's phone was wiped back to factory settings and rebooted with her own special sim card that she tucked into the back. Even though she waited for the man she needed to talk to, she still had a lot of prep work to do for her next venture.


    Except she didn't want to. She wanted to stay Megan Johnson, actually, and fuck the world. Shifting her weight on the couch, she glanced up at the screen in time to see two women with their fake tits hanging out of their swim suits ogling the pool boy who wore nothing but a tight pair of speedos over his packed crotch. Scowling, she grabbed the remote again and turned the volume on low as she fixed her attention back onto the phone, not yet wanting to leave her spot to grab the laptop in the backpack. She did push the flats off her feet until they thudded to the floor and curled in until her hip dug into the couch cushion and her back was partially to the TV.

    She jerked awake at the sound of the door opening, proceeding the echo of voices in the hallway. Time eluded her while her eyes cinched closed and she groaned around the sleepy that clogged her brain, making it muddled. The girl stretched like a cat on the couch, her toes touching the armrest and digging in while her head pressed into the couch pillow for a moment longer before she lurched into a sitting position to turn her head to the sound of the voices.


    Hey kitten, you didn't eat all the Cheetos this time did you?”


    His voice registered in her mind while the rest of her struggled to play catch up from her little cat (fox) nap. She blinked owlishly at him for a long moment, then jerked her attention to the woman on his arm. A scowl flicked across her face, followed by an annoyed dip of her brow, both of which were shot right back to him. He hadn't brought anyone home.

    Like the creeper she was, she knew this. So the presence of the woman was a surprise. Heaving herself up to her feet, she schooled her expression into indifference. The woman she dismissed – it was hims he focused on.


    “We need to talk. Did you get my text?”

    Flat. Her voice pressed hard into the monotone.

    Alone.” The lone word was a scathe toward the woman as pale eyes flashed over to her once again, then right back to him. “And now.”
     
  3. Deviance

    Deviance Secret Romantic Member

    Messages:
    287
    Local Time:
    8:21 AM
    At first I thought I’d seen his kind before. Him with his suit and tie and silly dance moves and a cuppa tea. I knew who I was there to see, and it wasn’t the first guy to come up to me with a drink. Except he was, and I didn’t know it. The man spoke my language: told me straight away what the offer was and how long it lasted. By letting me choose my drink and drinking from his first, he told me either one was safe and gave me a sample of how he would treat me. Then he left, with no promise of reward, and I was left standing there with a drink in my hand and no one to talk to about freedom. I didn’t have any defenses up when I learned the man that had made the club interesting again had been the one who had just offered to give it to me. Freedom. He knew what it was, I could see that in his eyes and I could feel it in his words. He was a man who knew it had to be paid for, and he already paid for it, and not just for himself or me, for the entire nation who sing its praises but despise its warriors, both those for freedom and those for their nation.

    I run a charity. It feeds homeless veterans. I feed homeless veterans. I cannot begin to describe the sense that I had just been invited home that accompanied his actual words. He touched me where I did not know I needed to be touched. So yeah, I marched right up there onto that platform and worshiped him like a savior because he fucking is one and he had just offered to save me. My heart was burning like a molten stone and when the darkness wrapped around us with a world of all-consuming sound I poured it into him because that was my offer, and he knew how to accept it and duration wasn’t a concern.

    Later, when I asked him what he wanted from me, he told me on the best night of his life his bed was warm, and on the worst morning of his life, it was empty, and he wanted it to smell like someone else. He didn’t ask for sex, he didn’t ask for forever, he asked for the perfume of me. That was when I took my panties off; I knew exactly what scent I was going to give him. He tried to scare me away and that only made me want to give it to him more, and when he growled I could feel his need shaking me from the bottom of my core, quivering up the center of me and making me ache to take him inside me and feed him.

    Then that look at the door, like, “How could you ever think you’re not special?” He gave me the chance to run at the first sign of trouble. I’d seen trouble before. I’d seen it before, and it was sure as hell chasing this one, the one he called, ‘kitten.’ The gentle humor in his voice told me she was one of his, and the disarray told me she’d come seeking refuge. I looked into her eyes with a naked knowing of both of those things, then said, “You’ve come to the right place.” Then I kissed his shoulder to ease his stress and asked for his bedroom. “You said the house was soundproof?”

    ****

    Richard took in the details of the sight before him, one detail at a time. Junk food, but no water. Crashed on the couch without a blanket. Inside with doors locked, and alarm intact. Enough fake ass for prime-time television. Sleeping with porn on. Cheap porn, by the look of it. Defensive against strangers, regardless of posture or position. She looked like she needed at least twenty more hours of sleep in the past week. She’d been hit in the face, possibly some time in that week. She was in trouble, and expected that he knew she was there. Richard remembered his debt, and he’d meant it when he said, ‘At any time.’ He accepted the kiss on the shoulder, but kept his eyes on Cariss and answered with a calm statement of truth.

    “No, I didn’t. My phone is off.” He turned his attention to Rachelle. “Upstairs, last door on the right.”

    Rachelle gave only a small pause of acknowledgement, then withdrew from him to go upstairs without comment or unnecessary action.

    Richard waited until they’d both heard the door close upstairs, then took a deep breath to let his hormones chill the fuck out. “We will talk after you’ve spent ten minutes drinking a glass of water. You are dehydrated and exhausted, and I need the blood back in my brain before I’m going to understand a single word you say. Rachelle intends to stay the night because I asked her to, and you may spend some of that time making sure she is in fact behind a soundproofed door, or you can take my word for it and sit with me for a while. You may also stay here tonight, unless we need to leave immediately.” He stood still and at ease for a moment, making no move toward or away from her. “I saw the backpack on the table. Please come into the kitchen with me to get the water, then decide where we are going to sit while you drink it.”

    He quirked an eyebrow, but his voice was still calm. "And if its alright with you, I'd like the tv turned off for the time being."
     
  4. Dalliance

    Dalliance il mio mostro di amore Member

    Messages:
    933
    Local Time:
    10:21 AM
    The controlled calm from the day was dissipating faster than boiling water on too high temperature. Her head was buzzing as her attention flitted from the woman clinging to his arm, to back to him. She dragged her breath into her lungs in an uneven shudder as color crept up her neck that constricted around the hard swallow. The flush rose up quick to spread across her face, turning her cheeks rosy red and stung the tops of her ears. Panic was climbing high as soon as the heat seeped into her brain hard enough to really push her gears into motion, but she fought it down with the squeeze of her fists at her sides. Hard enough that the knuckle turned white and the trembling in her posture calmed down. But the forced control also made her eyes that much wider, more vulnerable, until her attention snapped back to the woman as she turned to head up the stares.

    “This was a mistake,” she snapped out suddenly, before his club whore had completely made it up the stares. “I shouldn't have come up here.”


    Shy Town. Miami. New York. Fucking Vegas. But Oregon? She knew why she had done it; out of her scattered list of contacts that owed her, this was the safest of them. The one least likely to be tracked on an exponential level. They didn't know that he existed – and that was why, when things had gotten too rushed to make any extensive plans elsewhere, she opted for Richard Scott. Only Richard Scott was supposed to be fresh out of a relationship – and hadn't brought anyone home, according to his online track record, for many, many months. His had been an absolute safe bet that she hadn't factored in the exception to the rule.


    “Fuck,” she cussed out loud, forcing leaden feet, despite being bare, to move forward. She dipped forward once to snatch up his remote and turned the TV off its flat screen image of a man sucking on a pair of fake tits while the penetration was left concealed from view. The word “Mischief Maker” was sketched across the backside of the underwear she wore. Her wrist shook holding the thing and her body went rigid as she straightened back up. She wouldn't look at him again as she navigated past him to where she already knew where the kitchen was, her hand landing protectively over the backpack and dragging it closer to where she stood. “This is so fucked.”


    Her fingers tightened on the strap of the pack as she reeled back around to face him. This time there was a stubborn set in her jaw and more fire in her narrowed stare that she focused on the man. “Forget that I was here tonight. You're too busy for the shit bomb I'm about to drop on you and I'd rather not talk business when you have a club slut on your mind. I don't care how soundproofed your place is.”


    Except she would have to use Megan's information to check into a hotel, and if she pulled out cash now, that could freak out Megan's bank. Cariss was usually better prepared for the small inconveniences like this, but – she had left in a hurry with no outside planning involved, and now she got to lie in her own bed that she had helped to make.


    “So let's set up a meeting time tomorrow.”


    She waited expectantly after that, one hand on her backpack and her eyes darting back to the purse and phone still on his couch. Alone with the puddle of her pants and the flats still over there as well.
     
  5. Deviance

    Deviance Secret Romantic Member

    Messages:
    287
    Local Time:
    8:21 AM
    Richard recognized panic when he saw it. The flush, the forced movement, the appearance of being locked in one’s own head. He remembered the feelings he had when he was looking for someone, anyone, who might have information about the fucks who killed his unit, his family. The anger at their uselessness, the overwhelming urge to give up immediately when something didn’t go his way. Cariss was the only one who had delivered on her promise, he’d given her his in return, and now she was the one who was in a blind panic. The logic of paranoia is strange. There is an arrogant, self-absorbed sensation that you know everything, that you know what’s best for you, and the moment you act on your beliefs, you are returned with a preponderance of evidence of how very, very wrong you about everything you thought. This can happen in big ways, or small ways, but it was definitely happening to Cariss as she noticed that she hadn’t done half the things she would need to do to be able to leave without looking like a gutter-bum heroin addict.

    He’d been there. Not drugs, but if it hadn’t been for good friends he may have descended so far. The damnedest thing about it is that he knew there wasn’t a thing that would help her but time. She was right, business didn’t mix with pleasure, but what she had wanted wasn’t what she got, and now she was running, running, running, always running. He knew for damned sure she wasn’t the type of person to do something just because she was told, but she’d come to his home looking for shelter, and he owed her that, even if her answer was to spit in his face when he offered it.

    Ah, there it was. He was angry. The anger coursed through his veins and lit his mind on fire. She breaks into his home, crashes his night, eats his food, makes a mess in house stretching from top to bottom no doubt, and then she wants to leave when she gets offended? For what? Him living his life? He wrapped his mental arms around the anger, and set it down in a safe, clear space in his mind. Anger was reasonable, but not useful. What would he do, yell at her? Tie her down and force her to accept his help?

    “You can probably smell it. The rage pouring off of me right now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It feels righteous and justified. Its driving me to take from you what you took from me. Dignity. Honor. Security. Under that rage is a deep feeling of being offended, and being violated. You broke into my home, Cariss. You are welcome here, but you broke in and took advantage of me. You think I have sex on my mind in this moment? Hell, I could mix sex with all that. Then we could really have some fun.” He paused for a breath, closing his eyes as he let the rampant emotions spill out the sides of a pure white plane and fall away. “With all that gone, loneliness is left, and there is a willing solution to that upstairs, but I’m here, talking to you. Nevermind your instant judgment of her, and her worthlessness. Could be that you’re right, I mean, fuck, we’re all really worthless and useless at the end of the day, aren’t we?”

    He trained his cool, steely gaze back on her eyes. “You should stay here. You are safe here and whatever drove you to come here doesn’t have time for you to fuck around looking for a hotel that you obviously can’t pay for, and in your state you’re more likely to end up in a drunk tank than a bed other than one here. That is what I think, and I know you didn’t fucking ask. Believe me, I know.”

    At that moment the door to his room opened, and he went silent as he listened to the light footsteps approaching from the upstairs hall. Rachelle descended the stairs then came to Richard to give him a soft kiss on the back of his shoulder. “I left you a note, and my number. You’ve been wonderful, and I know you have work to do now. I’m going to take a walk, then call a cab to meet me somewhere public. Go save the world, tiger.” She withdrew from him, left out the front door, then disappeared into the night.

    Richard took a deep breath that never quite became a sigh, then nodded and went to the kitchen to fill a glass of cold, filtered water. “Couch or table, kitten?”
     
  6. Dalliance

    Dalliance il mio mostro di amore Member

    Messages:
    933
    Local Time:
    10:21 AM
    There was a strange display of emotion that played across her face in the following moments of their encounter at his kitchen table. Her hand still gripped her backpack like she wanted to take it and run, but her feet were being too damned stubborn to actually move her. They felt like a pair of lead weights that clung to his floor that sent the rest of her body into a state of paralysis as she gawked at the man with anger riding his features. It was an expression she was all too familiar with that rode the faces of men that had come and gone for the last twenty three years of her life.

    You're twenty four now.

    The whisper in the back of her mind went ignored for the time being. She was only vaguely aware that her birthday had come and gone with another year tacked onto her existence in the work. Gray eyes flitted across his face as he struggled with his temper as the words he spouted sunk in slowly. Like moving through glue, she carefully separated her hand from her bag and dropped her arm to her side to wipe her sweaty palm into the shirt she wore since her pants were still sitting in a heap on the floor. Her eyes darted down to the floor, tongue darting quickly across chapped lips, then flashed back up a verdant green – though the shock of color was gone in a moment as she jerked her head over to the stairwell where Rachelle descended. The girl refused to look at the other woman except for the corners of her eyes to flinch when she got too close to bestow her affections on him. Her perfume even lingered in the air – though that was the thing that snapped her back to attention, that and the sound of the door clicking shut behind her.

    Cariss jerked her chin back up at him in wide eyed shock that turned into a fit of rapid blinking. The tears welled without her asking for them and she even scrunched her face and held her breath to try and stop them from coming. Her jaw flexed, lips parting to take in a shuddering breath.

    “I don't know what I'm supposed to do this time,” came the hollow voiced echo that hovered thick in the air between them. “I don't know-- I can't--” Her voice choked around the sentence as her throat finally closed off to any more words. Stock still, but her first still lifted to swipe away the tears that fell from the corners of her eyes to trail a stream of salt into her mouth. And still she was blinking rapidly, her breath forceful as she struggled with her next set of words. “I just need a few days to think it through.”

    Stubborn. But it was the kind of stubborn that came with too many years of fending for herself and not actually knowing what the fuck she was doing at the end of the day. She chose without speaking it by sinking down into a chair at the table, her knees starting to buckle. The calm of energy she had reserved during the last few weeks caved in to form the sinkhole. Blindly, she wrapped her fingers around the glass of water when he brought it over to her, eyes squeezing shut as she brought it up to her lips to gulp half of it down in one breath, all the while her hand shaking so badly the glass almost slipped from her hand a few times.

    “I fucked up,” she gasped once she had put the water down. It only took you twenty four years to really screw up. Even though there were many who would argue that she had fucked up any number of times before this evening.
     
  7. Deviance

    Deviance Secret Romantic Member

    Messages:
    287
    Local Time:
    8:21 AM
    Richard watched her collapse into a blubbering heap in the chair and nodded serenely as he filled the second glass. That would do. He handed her the first glass of water, then pulled up a chair to sit next to her, noting the tears but not scouring them with his attention.

    "Yep," he said, "been there." He lifted his glass but paused to speak before taking a sip. "You're going to drink the rest slowly, because if you don't you're going to be sick. One sip at a time, then another, then wait." He demonstrated, then lowered the glass to his lap. "Then repeat until its gone, or ten minutes have passed. Ten because rehydration is a slow process, and you're in shock. Trust me, I've done this before." He took another sip of water. "Been in both seats. You're safe. Its quiet. We're alone. The air is still. Let that stillness seep inside. Let it wrap around you. Let the truth of it sink in. You asked for a couple days; you can have a week. Or more, that's not the point. Just drink." He took another sip to emphasize the point. "Right now the fighting's over. No threats. No wars. No guns blazing or bombs exploding. Just you, me, and a couple glasses of water."

    He didn't care what he sounded like, he was just talking to talk. His voice rolled out smooth and calm, quiet and confident. He lifted his glass to take another sip, then lowered it as he recalled a memory. "I knew, the day it happened. I had told them. Ordered them. Don't talk to the kids. Don't help them. Don't touch them. Don't even hardly look at them if you can help it. Smile, be nice, but don't fucking interact. It's not safe. Not today. Not today." He took another sip as he stared into the past. "There was a kid sitting in a tire on the side of the road. Scrawny, wire-thin, nothing but skin and bone. Brown, wearing a stained shirt and a towel. He must have called out to them, because they were standing around him. Pretending he was stuck or something. That was when I got this damned itch in the back of my mind. Not safe. Not today. It was like an alarm bell jangling on the right side of my face. I turned my head, saw them standing around this kid, saw his hand go into the tire, then boom. That was it. Five lives ended, the boy and my four men. I told them."

    Richard went quiet for a second, then took a sip of water. "Yeah. Been there." He was quiet for four more seconds, but this time he didn't take any water. "I found their skulls. Most of the flesh and everything else was just gone. Burned, incinerated, blown apart, I don't know, but I found their heads. More of some than others. Collected their gear. Their weapons. Ammo. Must have searched four hours for their dog-tags. What else was I going to do?" He pulsed his jaw, then took some water. "Found them. Brought them home. Failed the mission. Failed my unit. Failed my self." Another sip, more stillness. "Survived. Alone." More water, more staring. His chest rose with a deep breath, then let it all out again before glancing over at her glass. "Keep drinking. I'll get you more when that one is empty, then you can tell me what happened." He got up to refill his glass, then returned and sat back down next to her.
     
    Last edited: Aug 24, 2017
  8. Dalliance

    Dalliance il mio mostro di amore Member

    Messages:
    933
    Local Time:
    10:21 AM
    She hadn't wanted to be a hot mess at his kitchen table. In fact, she hadn't remembered the last time she had lost it in front of another person like this. Cariss preferred to cry out the weak in the privacy of her own time rather than demonstrate any vulnerabilities to another person – let alone someone like him, who she hardly knew, but here she fucking was just the same. There were only a handful of people she really trusted, and up until she had hooked her ankles around the legs of the chair and leaned over to rest her elbows on the tabletop, he wasn't included on that list.


    With one hand gripping the second glass of water he put in her hand and the other fisting itself into her backpack next to her like her life might be over if she let it go. Though, to be fair, part of the reason she had wound up with the black eye to begin with had to do with the contents of that bag. And it was a good chunk of the reason why she sat there in his kitchen now. She still swallowed hard around the lump that wouldn't leave her throat as she blinked around the salty trail of tears that streaked down her face, turning her face splotchy and red.


    It wasn't until she registered the soothing sound of his voice that she relaxed her grip and turned her stare from the table top up to his face. On another day, she might have bitten out a retort to his instructions. Now with the white noise in her head, the beat of her heart erratic in her chest, she mimicked his motions with a stricken look on her face. She stood in a sputtering drink of water, then choked around another fit of breaths. Another rapid round of blinking. She even lifted her hand away from her bag to swipe her cheeks. With her head shaking, she set her glass down and waited until he had retained his seat the second time before moving.


    She shifted over from her chair without thinking. Her thigh rested along his lap, bare, while she hoisted herself halfway into his lap and still halfway on her own chair. Her arms held her up from where they coiled around his neck loosely. Hopefully, he wouldn't mind his shirt getting a little damp as she pushed her cheek against his shoulder and breathed for a few minutes. It was the contact that she had craved, though, and the numbed sense that he could use the touch as well. She had no words for him when it came to the gruesome image he spun, though Cariss was fully aware of Richard Scott's past. And his PTSD.


    “I'm sorry,” she finally muttered hoarsely. Though what she was apologizing for could have been a number of things. “I'm sorry.”
     
  9. Deviance

    Deviance Secret Romantic Member

    Messages:
    287
    Local Time:
    8:21 AM
    Richard went very still as Cariss moved to climb into his lap. When she buried her face in his neck he set his glass down, then brought his hand to rest on her back. He held her as she breathed, using those minutes to let his thoughts catch up to him. That it had been someone else in his lap not 20 minutes ago occurred to him, but was dismissed. Agents had made choices, and the past was the past. He looked inside to see what he found himself to be feeling. First, he noticed that her touches lingered, and while she was distressed she seemed conscious and intentional of his body's reaction to them. Second, he felt satisfaction: he had meant to meet her at the level of her pain, to confide without walls, as he could see she needed to do. He had not expected her to jump in his lap immediately following, but he wasn't surprised. Third, he felt cautious. Linking a relationship on pain was an explosive proposition in any case, and they were both already exceptional cases with regard to pain without the other complicating matters. It didn't surprise him because he'd buried those feelings in sex too at first, and he hadn't fully extracted them over the years. Most damnable thing about it was he wasn't sure he wanted to. It felt just as much a part of him now as was any other. Probably the same was true for her, and she was worth the risk, he decided.

    "Be sorry, or be at peace."

    Strong arms wrapped around her, bringing her the rest of the way over into his lap, then he stood up with her in his arms. Holding her behind the back and under the legs, he carried her and the backpack back into the living room where he sat down in a wide recliner, settling her in lap, and the backpack on the floor next to them. It was dark and quiet, not a sound but their breath and the soft stirring of the upholstered chair. His breath was deep and slow as he met her eyes in the darkness. "You have my full attention." His hands softened as they shifted from offering support to taking pleasure, to the vigorous approval of his 'full attention,' but they remained mostly still. "Cariss..." he whispered, calling to her, "show me what you're feeling. Show me the storm inside. Give me everything. Don't hold back." He moved his hand over her lower spine. "Let go, and let me catch you."
     
  10. Dalliance

    Dalliance il mio mostro di amore Member

    Messages:
    933
    Local Time:
    10:21 AM
    Relationship was the last word that swirled in her mind when her legs pushed her chair back enough that it scraped along his floor. The arms she had wound around his neck tightened as soon as she felt his own hands hesitate on her back, warm through her shirt. The fact that she stiffened when he gathered her closer was instinctive; it wasn't something that she expected from him. Then suddenly she found herself hauled right up against his chest with her legs dangling off his thighs, sitting lopsided with her damp cheeks nuzzled right into his throat. Her breath came in hot bursts that teased against his skin as she struggled to slow the jack hammering of her heart against her ribs and calm the way it kept jumping up into her throat. The fact that she didn't have to speak in those minutes that ticked by was enough. It gave her reeling thoughts time to chill the fuck out.


    Though as soon as she felt him shifting underneath her, had both arms tightening around her, another emotion trickled through the raw panic. Self-conscious, Cariss went rigid in his grasp as he hefted her up with the bag following them over to the living room. She had always been a diminutive figure – petite, a waif, and a little awkward. She barely came up to be five foot barefoot and had a slender physique. Nothing like the head whipping curves of the woman that had been clinging to him at the start. Though the push up bra she still wore did give the illusion that she had more there than she did. She was stock still when he leaned back into the recliner, but eventually shifted around until she had a leg on either side of his thighs, straddling his lap. The tears had at least stopped, but still left her cheeks ruddy and damp clinging to her lashes. Her mouth was parted as she pulled herself back enough from her tight press against his chest to look down at his face as his hand dragged lower down her spine, easing her more intimately against him.


    Her hard swallow should have signified to him first. Or the fact that her pupils had dilated and her gaze had dropped down to his mouth where the words had come from. Then the fact that her pelvis pressed against his, radiating heat through the cotton panties she wore. There was a frustrated set to her jaw, the draw of her brow as she studied his own placid expression as if trying to look right into the depths of his soul – or perhaps it was just her attempt to read his thoughts.


    “I can't,” she uttered in a husky whisper. There was still a fight struggling to find a winner in the depths of her thoughts that kept her wary. The wall would either stay up or be torn down depending on the winner, but at least the words were honest. She let out her breath slowly, the effort sending a shiver right down her spine. The arms that gripped around him loosened when her hands, hesitantly, crawled higher until her fingers buried in his hair. “I need to think,” she blurted after a moment, as if realizing that the first words just weren't going to be good enough. Except she couldn't really think right now.
     
  11. Deviance

    Deviance Secret Romantic Member

    Messages:
    287
    Local Time:
    8:21 AM
    Richard took in her words, and the mixed signals she was giving him, then spoke to her eyes. "I can see that you are being honest, so I will give you this to think about: You can crash here, take the time to figure things out, get your bearings, talk out your problems, and have a warm place to sleep and food to eat, and get fucked tonight, or you can do all of that and not get fucked tonight. One way or the other, its your choice, but I'll tell you what I'm thinking about."

    He slid his hands down her flanks. "I think you put us in this position because you wanted it, and I put us here because this will be easier on your knees. So, after we're done figuring out just how many things this chair is good for, I'm going to go upstairs, and you're going to decide if you want to sleep in my bed, or on that couch, or in whatever other bed you may find, here or otherwise."

    Tension flowed into his hands, but he kept from squeezing. "But if you come into my room, the first thing I'm going to do is get you the rest of the way out of those," he let his glance and eyebrow say 'ridiculous' for him, "clothes, toss you into my bed, then pin you from behind and take you until you're screaming. Then, just before you finally fly over the edge, I'm going to flip you over, tie you down, then torture you with my mouth, because its fun, and I want to know your most desperate taste."

    A slow smirk spread over the features of his face, taking them in one by one. "Then, when you're a blind, senseless wreck, I'm going to get on top of you and fuck you until you forget every name but mine and your begging falls all the way into goddamn prayer before I let you finally get off, so in the morning, when you wake up and remember the night before, you remember to," he seized her ass and crushed her hips against his, "say your fucking prayers."

    His hands and eyes relaxed, falling back under control of his steady breathing. "I obviously have an opinion of what will clear our heads better, but you tell me Cariss: How much thinking do you want to do tonight?"
     
  12. Dalliance

    Dalliance il mio mostro di amore Member

    Messages:
    933
    Local Time:
    10:21 AM
    Her mouth felt like he had shoved cotton down her throat and her heart hammered in her ears, but not quite to the point that he drowned out the sound of his voice that overwhelmed the rest of it. Her thoughts were written in stark contrast across her face as she stared gap mouthed down at the face that tilted calmly toward her.


    Get fucked tonight.


    Her fingers tightened in his hair as both shock and naked desire scribbled itself uninhibited across her face. Despite the healing bruise, Cariss was an innocent kind of pretty. Just on the cusp of being exotic with high, flat cheek bones and those luminous gray eyes that were two moons staring down at him. There was something sweet in the mussed tangle of thick down hair that hung down past her shoulders, or the fact that, at twenty four, she hadn't quite yet lost all the baby out of her face – and yet she was mature enough to show the angles of her features.


    “Oh,” she managed to pant out once the flushed heat crept up her cheek to fuse into her cheeks, turning her olive complexion darker. It was a nervous kind of lust that had her tongue flicking against her lips to moisten them as her breath caught in her throat, holding on to the stifled moan when his sliding hands prickled goosebumps across her bare skin before finding his grip. Damp with heat, her hips moved against his when he ground her forward. As much as the man underneath her held his outward calm, she still felt his erection underneath the layer of denim. That alone sent her breath whistling from her lungs.


    “OK.”


    It was his consent, uttered in a husky, strangled voice before the rigid hold she had on her body lose its tension and she came crashing down like a wave against his chest. Her mouth fumbled for his at first, over eager, before her lips caught onto his in something both sweet and hungry, hesitant and strangely yearning. It was the rest of her that broke the final ice. Or perhaps she simply melted on his lap with her hips sliding back until her ass filled the palms of his hands and her nipples tightened in the cups of the bra she wore, pressed up against his chest. Her pulse had lowered down to between her legs, throbbing there like an ache until her panties were soaked against her skin. The rest of her clothes just clung to her uncomfortably, too hot, while she wiggled right back up against the rigid presence in his pants, grinding hard.
     
  13. Deviance

    Deviance Secret Romantic Member

    Messages:
    287
    Local Time:
    8:21 AM
    His breathing picked up at seeing her want and a smile stretched over his face. He remained still as she made her choice, not willing to take her mind from her in that moment. Dark dreams had been born in his mind the first day he’d seen her, and he’d prepared to tell her as much the next time he saw her. And there was going to be a next time; he’d known it from the moment she’d called it a favor. She’d known he’d honor it, and he’d known she’d call it in. His grin broke wider as he let his dark desire shadow his face. Would she descend?

    He felt the heat of her wettening cunt and savored the scent of her sex, head rolling back and eyes closed. He wanted to knead his hands into her flesh, to drive his feeling as deep inside her as her relaxation would allow, to drive her into a frenzy with his powerful digits, but she was still trying to swallow the lust instead of let it ignite her so he remained still as he waited. Would she succumb?

    Then her breath wheezed out of her and she breathed her surrender in the second fastest way, and he had what he wanted. Consent to his darkest dreams, whatever they may be. He squeezed his pleasure into her ass, shoved it up her root and anticipated the forthcoming crash. She’d broken. It was time to rebuild her, so he caressed and petted her, rewarding her for succeeding to do as he asked even when she thought she couldn’t.

    All of her blood that could move was in her throbbing pussy now, and he knew he was speaking to her bodymind, the one that watches everything and never speaks. That knows what it wants at all times, but submits to the working mind. The consciousness that remembers everything it is ever told. He swirled smooth security into the curves of her most vulnerable angle with his massaging hands and gave her a tactile reminder of her advantage on top. She had the power, she had the freedom, and he was the solidity that supported her, the man she given consent to enter and take residence inside her. In that order. An equal exchange.

    He felt her heat, the fire raging through her, and the aching need to be out of her clothes, the first thing he said he’d do to her, then smirked into her kiss as he slapped her ass like, bitch, I can’t get up until you get off. He bit her lip as he shook with laughter and let her take the spurring however she liked.
     
  14. Dalliance

    Dalliance il mio mostro di amore Member

    Messages:
    933
    Local Time:
    10:21 AM
    It was that smile that spread across his face that threw her off and sent her thoughts reeling away to the back of her mind. She wanted to wipe it away and keep it in place in the same breath when she kissed him like she did, her mouth soft as it crushed against his, desperate. The wide eyes she used to stare down at his face cinched closed as she fastened her grip more aggressively in his hair, pulling it like she really was trying to steer him. She only pulled away, breathless and panting, when his palms flexed against her ass to send trills of sensation through her spin. Back arching, her pelvis did another grind against him, followed up by a frustrated wiggle that added friction to the problem between her legs.


    Her eyes popped back open to look down at him, the naked lust raw on her face as she watched his expression carefully. His own desire was etched into the look on his face, but he seemed calm where she felt frantic. Her pulse beat hard, her face was flushed, and her entire body felt electrified with every stroke of his fingers that bunched her undergarments under his hands. Lips parted, she ran her hands back down from his hair to cup the sides of his face.


    Outlining her body's desire came curiosity as she ran her hands down the planes of his face, her fingertips stroking along his jaw, over his mouth, along his cheek bones and brow as if mapping him out with her touch alone.


    “It is easier on my knees,” she dragged out in a husky whisper. They dug hard into the cushion of his chair on either side of him. It was supposed to be a joke, but her face still mirrored her emotions that she had forgotten to hide from sight. Her shuddering breath punctuated the remark, followed promptly by the way her hands fell back around his neck. “Upstairs?”


    Only she wasn't going to move from him. Rather, she dipped her head back down to stifle the little moan she couldn't help when his hand clapped down on her ass. She would, however, make it easier for him to lift her up with the way she wedged her thighs around his waist to grip him close. The heat between her legs still pulsed against his jeans, her arousal pressing firmly against his. “Please?” Murmured against his mouth like a plea.
     
  15. Deviance

    Deviance Secret Romantic Member

    Messages:
    287
    Local Time:
    8:21 AM
    Richard received her kiss and responded in kind, remaining outwardly calm and conserving energy while swirling encouraging hands over her luscious curves. His smile remained, and he growled his satisfaction and hunger, the both of them twining into feral need as he partook of the feel of her. As she kissed him, wrenching his head this way and that under her onslaught, he left soft laughter rumble out of him, then she was arching against him, grinding down on his cock, and he felt the thunderous boom of his pulsing lust sweep his attention lower, deeper, tempting him to forgo his plans. He focused on her instead, on the way she clung to his body like she would be permanently attached if she could help it, and remembered that she was in need of shelter, warmth, care. Both of them were sweaty from the day, but he could only imagine she was worse off. Not that he cared in that moment, but he wanted her to feel nice in the morning, and he knew smelling and feeling clean and fresh would go a long way toward that.

    He saw her eyes pop open again, and the burning lust that ravaged her, and he made sure she could see his desire as well. He wanted her. He had an inkling that things with guys didn’t typically go well for her, and he intended to be the exception. Her hands slipped down to cup the sides of his face as her gaze bored into him, and he accepted her and her wildfire passion as he gazed right back.

    He was about to speak when her hands started roaming over his face, so he stayed quiet and let her explore his expression, features and mood. He kept his breathing steady and watched her eyes as she studied him, letting his hands come to rest palming her flanks. She was driving him mad with the stimulation from the grinding, just being so close to her had him hard, so her intimate little wiggles had him struggling to think of anything but how they might feel from inside. Still, the thought that survived was that her lust would not be doused by a hot shower; if anything he suspected it would only turn up the heat. Especially given he intended to join her. Besides, he had made it clear that she would cross his threshold under her own power, and with the way he expected she would cling to him, a counter would be the easiest place to set her down anyway, less collapsing backward onto the bed.

    He groaned at her words. “God, I want you on your knees.” He saw her unwitting nakedness of feeling and growled in approval. “Fuck yes.”

    Then she was begging, and grinding her pussy against his cock, and the decision was made. He sat up in the chair with her, swept the backpack up in the grip of one hand, then wrapped his arms around her to carry her, one hand across her back, the other on her opposite flank. He counted on her to wrap her legs around him, then stood up and slapped her legs to prompt her to do just that. Then he navigated the room to the stairs, ascended them, then turned into the first door on the right instead of going all the way down the hall.

    He set her down on the counter, slapped the light on, tossed the backpack to the other side of the counter, then brought his hands up to cradle her face in his hands and guide her lips to his as he went in for a kiss. Richard kissed Cariss deeply, thoroughly, and commandingly, exploring her lips and tongue with his own like she had his face with her hands. He held her and kissed her, spending time just tasting her sweetness and testing his teeth on her flesh. His loins throbbed harder and harder, so before he lost it completely he broke away, then found her eyes for a moment as he caught his breath.

    One hand slipped back from her face and into her hair. He collected a lock of her hair, pulled it forward, then brought it to his face to smell. He breathed in the scent of her sweat and lust, then smiled and leaned in to draw in the scent of her neck and press a kiss into the delicate flesh at the back her neck just under her hairline. He straightened back smiling, then reached behind her to open the mirror cupboard and selected a vanilla shampoo/conditioner, and set it down on the counter next to her. Then he looked back to her eyes and let a devilish grin spread over his face as he traced two fingers over the edges of her lips, then slid them down her neck, breastbone, the center of her chest, over the expanse of her belly, then flipped them over and pressed the backs of his knuckles against her soaked panties and stroked her vulva through the undergarment, collecting her scent. He went to bring his fingers back up to his face but the scent had him swooning before they’d made it half way. His eyes fluttered, and a low, pleased groan rolled out of him; he knew what he wanted. Instead of making the trip back to his nose, he reached into the cupboard again for a strawberry scented body wash, then set it next to the other bottle.

    He reached out for the hem of her shirt as he began to speak, his voice low, smooth, and not really asking. “I want you to take these, then get into the shower and get clean. In the meantime I’m going to go put this suit away, then come back and join you.” He reached out to hold her face again, to look into her eyes and see Cariss. He smiled his pleasure for her, memorizing her features like she had his before. “Arms up, we’re getting you out of these clothes.”
     
    Last edited: Aug 24, 2017
  16. Dalliance

    Dalliance il mio mostro di amore Member

    Messages:
    933
    Local Time:
    10:21 AM
    She would thank him later for the attention. Not to her – but his gut instinct in bringing that damn backpack around with them, even if she hadn't said anything about it, that was something that she could appreciate even if it was like a codependent child with a blanket it didn't want to part with. It was a silly thing to want; nothing was going to happen to it out here in his living room, but he still scooped it up right along with her when he allowed himself to rise up from their sitting arrangement.


    Her bare legs were quick to wrap around him before he even prompted her to do so, ankles hooking to hold her in place as he swept them both up. Her arms found their way around his neck when he started moving them, but she was going to make every attempt to distract him from their destination while she had the chance. The motions with her mouth were less shy now that he had revealed his own desire. The look on his face, like a hungry predator, and the way he had gripped her against his erection was enough to have her gasping in a way that she wasn't used to. But he knew that. She'd seen that in his face too. She still had to fight through the shaking shyness to latch her mouth around the lobe of his ear to give it a yank before her mouth dragged down to trail her attention across his neck, over the strong line of his jaw, to hide her little mewl of desire nuzzled into the hollow of his throat. Or even the quick pants of breath that flared her nostrils when her mouth latched back onto his, pushing his lips apart so that her tongue could explore the taste of his mouth.


    Her lips were swollen by the time her ass hit the cool counter top. Her awareness was driven to shit behind dilated pupils that searched his face curiously once her mind had registered that he had deposited her in the bathroom instead of his bedroom. She forgot again in the next moment when his mouth found hers again, this time his own devouring kiss taking control of the situation. She drowned her moan into his kiss and lifted her hands up from around his neck to sink her fingers into his hair, dragging him closer still with her legs still wrapped around his waist. Her pelvis flexed, urging against his, only he had other plans than a fuck on the edge of the counter.


    Her teeth pulled his lower tier when he pulled away from the kiss. Her eyes snapped open from where they had closed again to savor him to find his own dark stare studying her. Curiosity mirrored in her own eyes – as well as something else that searched him inquisitively for an answer. Cariss had never been good at hiding her expressions, which is why the desperate look on her face struck out against her features in sharp contrast. She quivered on the edge of the counter when he played his next hand. But she still didn't speak. It was as if she had it in her mind that if she said anything right now what was happening would shatter. Or if she spoke he would change his mind and walk away. The question trembled on her lips, but all she could think about was dragging him down again for another kiss.


    What are we doing?


    She could ask it tomorrow. For the time being, she watched with a straightened back the descent of his hand as it crept from her lips, down between the thrust of the push up underneath her shirt, over her belly that leapt against his touch, then between her legs to brush against the sodden cotton of her panties. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth and whimpered when his knuckles stroked her. Her hand snapped forward, fingers winding around his wrist to hold him there for a moment before he pulled his hand away to test the scent of her lust.


    “Fuck,” she uttered softly when his wrist slid out of her wrist as he set the soap on the counter next to her with the shampoo. Her eyes dragged away from where they lingered on his face down to the product, then snapped right back up to him, her head already shaking. She reached for his jacket when he reached for the hem of her shirt to push it off his shoulders.

    “Don't leave here. Just join me,” she insisted. The words sounded foreign coming out of her mouth, hollow, but also tinged with that sharp edge of lust he had inspired. “Just don't. Stay in here,” she reiterated. Still, her arms did rise away from where she attempted to push his suit jacket from him once his fingers started edging the hem of her shirt up to help him lift it above her head.
     
  17. Deviance

    Deviance Secret Romantic Member

    Messages:
    287
    Local Time:
    8:21 AM
    He smiled as he shucked the shirt from her and tossed it over to the backpack. "Nice things stay nice when you are nice to them, and this suit doesn't take water. Not even steam." He smirked at the dark of her eyes. "As much as I'd like it not to be, that is the reality." He ran the backs of his fingernails up her torso as he glanced down to her lips, swaying his head to the side in a slow drift. "I deeply appreciate how dearly you are cherishing each individual moment, but I'm afraid I am utterly patient, and didn't plan on sleeping much tonight." He looked back up to her eyes. "As such I anticipate hours more of that appreciation, and feel comfortable taking a moment to care for my things." He curled a finger and slid the side of it up the base of her neck, barely contacting her skin. "It is a moment I find useful to give, because I will not carry you into my bedroom. It is my sanctuary, the heart of my home, and a place I wear no pretense." He flared his fingernails over the side of her neck and jaw as they continued to rise. "Which means I am in command of everything in that space. That is what I am. That is what I need." He slipped his thumb around the other side of her neck, then the inside of his grasp up her throat, then drew his fingertips and thumb toward the center of the underside of her chin, taking a tiny pinch of her skin between them. "I will not decide for you whether that is what you need, but I did not make the invitation lightly." He rolled the flesh of her erogenous zone between his fingers as he applied light pressure to lift her chin. "I want you wet and warm, and feeling clean and free of the cares of the day. I want you to wash off the fear." He smiled into her eyes. "I want you to be proud of yourself." He grinned at the sight of her heaving chest and flushing body. "And I want an excuse to run my hands all over every inch of you." He slipped a finger inside the hem of her panties just over her leg, then slid the back of his knuckle toward her center. "Even if it does mean a little more cloth between us." He pulled her head to the side with the tiny, light pinch of flesh. "But for now, I'd be happy if you took that bra off." He leaned in to press his lips against her neck and sighed his pleasure before nipping at her with the tips of his teeth.
     
  18. Dalliance

    Dalliance il mio mostro di amore Member

    Messages:
    933
    Local Time:
    10:21 AM
    Cool air hit her skin when the v-neck was tossed to the side. The heat rising from her skin left a trail of goosebumps when it clashed with the flow of air from his air conditioner. Her immediate impulse was to move her hands that gripped him to her to cover the forced swell of her breasts over the cups of the padded bra she wore, self-conscious under his scrutiny. Arms folded over her chest, she hitched her chin up and fought the pounding haze that still had her thoughts reeling. Right now, he was in control. And for once Cariss didn't mind someone else taking the wheel for a while. Still, his remarks clenched her pounding heart in her chest enough that she fought the urge to duck down to try and disappear.


    “I ruined your night with that woman,” she stumbled over the words thickly. She licked her lips nervously, watching his motions, the seductive sway of his hands that had her skin jumping up to meet his grazing touch. She bit back the little moan that crawled up from her throat and clenched her thighs closed from her seat on the edge of the counter, though it didn't do much to quench the burn between her legs. She almost reached down between them to grab his cock. His erection already bulged against the front of his nice slacks that he murmured couldn't be bothered with a little water.


    But she stopped herself when his hands wandered higher, tracing the sculpt of her neck and jaw, clasping her chin like that. Her breath hitched and her lashes fluttered. The breath she didn't know she was holding escaped with a hard gasp once he eased her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. He shouldn't be here like this with her. The thought grabbed at her, fighting against the distracting intensity of his stare. Only this time it was her that uttered the question.

    “Are you sure it's OK to do this with me?” Her hands had lifted, barely touching his forearm.


    Of course, then he decided to drop his other hand, sifted aside the fabric that separated the cause of her distraction from him, and slide his knuckle across her skin. This time she couldn't catch the low moan that rose and spilled from between her lips as he teased her so close to the source. Her clit throbbed greedily, relentless in its demand to be touched. She rolled her hips instinctively, wanting him to edge just a little more over. Her hands also fell down. And this time, she did move one between them, her palm sliding over the hard length of him that hid underneath his pants. Slid and then gripped. Hard. Until she rolled over the pulsing head and back down again to give him a jerk.


    Fuck,” she she hissed out with a panting breath once his head dipped and his teeth sent an electric shock through her nerve endings. “Fuck,” she whimpered, closed her eyes as her free hand moved behind her to undo the hooks that held her bra in place. Only she let it slide only a portion down her torso where it caught on her arms, showing a glimpse of rock hard, berry dark nipples.
     
  19. Deviance

    Deviance Secret Romantic Member

    Messages:
    287
    Local Time:
    8:21 AM
    Cariss’s hand slipping over his shaft sent a fluttering thrill through him. She caressed his sensitive flesh, then grabbed him in a demanding grip, and he growled his pleasure. The throbbing need to fuck her pounded through him, pressure redoubled with her constricting hand. He wanted to thrust into her molten slickness, into her deepest need, to drive her wild with lust and set her aflame with passion. He smiled as his mind surfed just above the carnal tidal wave that crashed within him and bridled the leaping, savage need to take, to claim, to dominate.

    Richard shook his head as he raised his low hand to pluck the bra from between them and toss it aside as well. Then he ran his fingertips down the length of her arm, took her wrist gently in his hand, raised her hand to his shoulder, snaked his arm under hers and around her back, lowered the other arm to grip her bottom, hoisted her off the counter again and turned around to lean back against it, holding her against his chest, and the inside of her hips against his firmness. He kissed her again, then let his lips spread into a grin as he responded to her words.

    “You did no such thing, my night with Rachelle was wonderful, just as she said.” He hummed his amusement into her flesh. “I will be as interested to see what you think of her note as I am to read it myself.” Richard resettled his grip on her, grinding her panty-clad form against the cock she’d been grabbing in the process. Shivers of lust and desire careened through him, and he let it roll out of him in a low moan. “I am sure that the business at hand is ours, and ours alone, and I am comfortable letting you make that choice, knowing what I want.”

    He straightened to look her in the eyes. “Fuck indeed. That is nearly precisely what I thought when I first saw you.” Richard steadied his grip on her with just his lower hand and let the other roam over her back, pressing her against him in a smooth, sliding caress that glided over her back. “‘Fuck, I want her,’ I thought. ‘Fuck, she’s resourceful.’” He smirked as he squeezed her ass. “‘Fuck, I know exactly where I want her assets to land.’” His breathing shifted into deep and hard even as his eyes darkened. “Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this.” Richard smiled. “No, Cariss, you didn’t ruin my night. You made it.”

    His eyes softened. “I know you’re in trouble. I want to hear about it tomorrow, and I assume it can wait that long. I’m going to help you in any and every way I can, regardless of how tonight goes. I’ll protect you.” A flicker of dark fire glittered in his eyes. And sate you. Consume you. Ravish you. Devour you. “No matter what.” He watched her dark orbs until he was right up against the edge of resisting the urge to dig his teeth into her neck again, then let out a pleased breath and helped her drop her feet to the floor.

    “If you are in the shower when I get back, I intend to join you.” He slipped a hand between them to run the side of a finger over the tip of her clit in tiny circles through the cloth of her panties. “I’d like you to save this for me.” He lifted his hand to raise her chin, then put a featherlight kiss on her lips. “Get clean, Cariss.” Then he walked out of the bathroom, leaving the door open, and went into a room across the hall, leaving that door open as well.

    It was his wardrobe room, and he set to the task of putting his suit away. He put his coat up on its hanger, then brought his hands to the buttons of his shirt, glancing across the hall at Cariss as he worked the buttons loose one by one. Finally the shirt hung open, and he shrugged out of it to hang it with the rest, turning his back to the hall. His back was covered in old scars, relics of combats and trainings past, and his muscles rippled with the smooth movement of his arms as he set the contents of his pockets out on a counter, then removed his belt and stepped out of the pants. He set them on the counter, then prepared them for dry-cleaning. As favorable as he found them now, the scents and moisture they’d taken this evening would spoil, and ruin the garment. More than that, it was part of his ritual, a set of tasks he completed systematically to maintain a sense of order inside and out. He wasn’t compulsive, he was disciplined. His discipline had kept him alive. As soon as the dry-cleaning machine was started, he finished undressing, then went back to the bathroom, closing the door to the wardrobe behind him.
     
  20. Dalliance

    Dalliance il mio mostro di amore Member

    Messages:
    933
    Local Time:
    10:21 AM
    She didn't know how he could talk, think, function like this. But he had said that tonight she wouldn't have to do the thinking – he would. That still didn't stop her from trying to tempt him like she did, even if her eyes had gone nearly black with lust as she studied the reactions of his face when her strokes became more forceful.


    “What's wrong? Afraid you're going to lose control?” She couldn't help the teasing goad that was a husky rasp falling from her lips. She even cracked a grin that shadowed his when he pulled her hand away from the muscle that throbbed eagerly underneath the palm of her hand that he placed on his shoulder instead. She gripped his nice suit when he hefted her from the counter and pressed her breasts against the front of his shirt when she melded back against him, flushed skin against crisp fabric that still smelled like his night at the club.


    And the lingering scent of her perfume.

    Cariss swallowed hard as color flooded her cheeks again and her heart constricted in her chest. Her brows furrowed darkly when her eyes lifted up to his. She saw the naked lust in his own face, the bare desire etched into his skin; his eyes weren't lying to her even though a man's body often could. The fucker wanted her in that moment. Though now she was at least glad he was taking that damn suit off so that he could wash his own past from his body so that they could start a fresh night. But right now both legs wrapped around his hips to clutch him close in the moment.


    Both hands moved to latch onto his shoulders now when he grabbed the twin globes of flesh protected by arousal dampened panties. She whimpered when he was the one to grind her up against him, lips trembling along with her knees as she squirmed and ground herself against the front of his slacks.


    Then it was her mouth that crushed against his, his words echoing. Cariss knew that this man, over anyone else, kept his word. It was why she had picked him out of the haystack for her escape plan, though she hadn't expected the level of emotion edging any promise to her. She kept her eyes open with the kiss, ever watchful, until he lowered her back down to the ground.


    “Are you always a smooth talker?” Another joke, whispered out, as her hands continued to cling to the tops of shoulders and her breasts stayed hidden against his chest. Whatever snark she had with the remark dissipated when he reached between them. No matter that she was safe behind cloth, the circling of his finger jolted her upright as the shock that followed made her hips jerk against his wandering fingers.


    Save this for me. “Oh,” she gasped, the tremble starting up again in her knees that left her backing right back up against the counter when he pulled himself from her to leave. Eyes like gleaming steel watched him wide eyed and dark leave the bathroom to escape to his room. She watched him for a moment, the way he stripped himself meticulously as she fought to catch her breath and function long enough to turn away and shift the shower curtain away.


    The shower's knobs were turned, the heat cranked up until steam billowed from the flow of water that sprayed from the shower head. Once she was satisfied with the temperature, she pulled the sodden underwear down her hips and shimmied them down her thighs until she could step out of them. Like him, she kept her back to the open door as she maneuvered herself out of the remaining garment, flashing her behind to his full view when she had to stoop briefly. Like a scared cat (fox), she didn't wait to hop into the shower, naked and exposed, to let the hot spray hit her full force.


    She stood a long moment doing nothing as her dark hair soaked up the water until it, too, became a dark fall down over her shoulders and in her face. A well kissed lower lip she dragged between her teeth to probe the cut that still stung from last week's activities. Then with one hand bracing against the tiles, she let her other hand wander down between her legs, fingertips stroking the swollen petals apart until she found her own clit. She shuddered when she touched herself – but it wasn't the same as the sensation of his own fingers there.


    It was only a touch, though. Like she was trying to dampen the sensitivity that flooded between her thighs. Sucking in a hard breath from her nose, she pulled herself upright and shifted the shower curtain enough to snatch the shampoo and body wash he had left out on the counter to pull it into the shower with her.
     

Share This Page