Photobucket

The Grey Edge: Chapter Eighteen


Magnolia let herself smile. Take off her clothes? That was an order she’d happily follow. She touched his desk, requiring it to disappear, leaving no obstructions between them. Thoughts flashed through her mind on how best to proceed – she was tired, and sore, so a energetic striptease was out of the question, it was going to be hard enough performing to please him without stressing herself for the foreplay.
That, and he’d wanted her clothes off, he hadn’t asked for a show. Shows could come later.
Later, there was going to be a later. She had him. He wanted her. A wish had come true, and it hadn’t cost a world to bring to fruition.
She shimmied out of her skirt, and his eyes went to her legs. She grinned – happy at finding his weakness, it was something to keep in mind, something to use. Something to please him with.
A requirement removed her panties as she swung a leg over him, straddling him on his chair. She pulled her purposely-simple top away, and leaned in to kiss him. Kiss him, she had the right to kiss him. It was-
He touched her, and she felt her heart flutter again. He was touching her, and not in a professional way, not in the gym, and not to win another spar, but as one lover touched another.
‘I’m…inexperienced,’ he said, in a quiet voice she’d heard so few times. Hesitation. He didn’t want to admit weakness. It was the same look he’d had on his face after fights they’d barely walked away from. Fear.
‘You’re doing fine, sir,’ she said. ‘But I think we need the bed back.’
He held onto her as the chair melded and warped, becoming his sensible, no-frills bed. There was a sliding sensation under her hands as his clothes disappeared. Skin made contact with skin, and some of the uncertainty disappeared from his eyes.
She held her breath, letting him take the next step – if the uncertainty returned, she could take charge, but there no need to rush him, to frighten him, to make him regret his decision to- A hand slipped between her spread legs, fingers searching like heat-seeker missiles before finding their target.
She pressed her forehead against his shoulder as he slipped a finger inside, hands pressed against his chest to keep herself from falling backward, from falling off the bed, from- She bit his neck as a second finger made its way in, feeling all thoughts going blank, replaced with a lusty haze. The Agency, the world, the universe, anything outside of the room, anything outside of the bed had ceased to exist. She moved against his fingers, trying not to moan, trying not to scream, but failed in both endeavors as she sank down on his fingers again, and felt herself climax.
She stopped moving for a moment, content to breathe against his neck, to take in his familiar smell for new reasons, to enjoy the feeling of his skin, of the faint beat of his heart. His hand moved away, pressing down on the mattress, helping to keep his top half vertical.
After a few more deep breaths, she let her own hand slide down, touching what had been just an empty area the the last time they’d sparred, just the area where his legs met, no significance, no…hardness.
‘Sir, I-’ she began as she wrapped a hand around him. ‘I can-’
‘I trust you,’ he said, his words blowing hot breath against her chest.
She pushed on his chest. ‘Lie back.’
He gave no complaint at being given an order, no sign of resistance. He laid back, his head resting on the hard-looking pillow.
She adjusted herself, lifting herself over him, and gently used one hand to maneuver him into place as she slowly lowered herself, slowly took him in. He shivered as she settled into place, looking at her with an expression that was far more lustful than it was uncertain.
‘Are you all right sir?’ she said, pressing her hands to his stomach.
There was a strange look on his face for a moment. ‘More than ok,’ he said after a moment. His hands slid up her legs, moving across her thighs.
She smiled down at him, placed her hands over his, and began to move.
His grip tightened as she increased speed, and his breaths became more audible. He was feeling pleasure, and she was cause of it. She bucked the rhythm, and he made a delicious noise halfway between a grunt and a moan. His hands slid from her thighs up onto her hips, and one reached higher, and she pushed herself forward a little, putting her breasts within his grasp.
He grunted again, and she felt him drawing close. She grabbed the hand fondling her, and brought it to her mouth, sucking on his fingers as she brought him to orgasm. His hands dropped away, falling to his sides as he shuddered and came.
She moved slowly, deliberately, easing off him carefully. He slowly rolled onto his side, and reached for her as she knelt beside him on the bed. She lowered herself, lying beside him, his lover, his equal, not just his aide, not just his recruit.
‘Are you-’ she began to ask, but was silenced as he kissed her. Again. He was quickly getting the hang of kisses.
He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. ‘I need you to understand,’ he said, ‘I’m not Grigori. Flowers. Dating. I don’t get any of that.’
‘I know sir,’ she said, ‘I love you, you’re who I want.’
‘You-’
She put a hand to his mouth. ‘If I wanted Grigori, I’d be in his bed, I’m not there, am I?’ she lifted her hand away from his mouth, and pointed the knife sunk into the door frame. ‘And if I’m to pick one over the other, I prefer enchanted weapons to roses, sir. I want you, sir, if that’s all right with you.’
‘It’s acceptable,’ he said, sliding a hand over her hip to rest on her arse. ‘It’s acceptable.’
Silence filled the air, and she opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head.
‘Roll over, Magnolia.’
She expelled a short breath, excited that he was still in command, that he was taking initiative, and at the possibilities brought up by lying prone beside him, or beneath him.
‘Your back, it’s healed,’ he said as he knelt over her.
‘They were replacing so much skin that it wasn’t any effort to cover the holes from…’ Thoughts raced. ‘Was that only this morning?’
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I’ve checked. Today has been…complicated. And long.’ He put his hands on her back, thumbs running along her shoulder blades. ‘Did you lie to me, Magnolia?’
‘When, sir?’
He rubbed his thumbs, and she heard herself moan. ‘When I did that this morning, you made that noise, you said it was because the pain was subsiding.’
She moaned again. He was good with his hands. He was very good with his hands. ‘Yes sir,’ she said. ‘I did. I lied.’
‘It feels good?’
She nodded furiously. ‘It does.’
‘Then why did you lie?’
She stared at the blue sheets. ‘Because I didn’t want you to think I was weak, sir.’
He leaned over her, hands on her shoulders, face against her cheek. ‘I don’t think you’re weak, Magnolia.’
She stared at the bed. ‘Thank you, sir.’
He removed his hands, and laid on the bed beside her. ‘You aren’t weak, but you are exhausted, and in pain. You need your sleep, and that’s an order.’
‘Yes sir,’ she said, as she sat up and swung her legs off the bed.
He grabbed her arm, and stared at it. ‘Grigori suggested…You don’t have to leave. You can stay. Here. If you want. Do you?’
‘Spend the night?’ Her heart fluttered again. ‘But won’t that disturb you, sir?’
‘Not if you don’t move too much,’ he said. ‘And you have to stay naked,’ he added. ‘I sleep naked, it would be distracting if you wore clothes.’
‘I don’t mind, sir.’
‘And…show me how,’ he said.
‘Yes sir,’ she said, smiling. She pulled him onto his side, backed up against him, and wrapped his arms around her. ‘This is spooning,’ she said as she rested her head on his arm. ‘Is it suitable?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Good night.’
‘I love you,’ she whispered again. ‘I love you sir.’
He kissed her shoulder. ‘Sleep, Magnolia.’
‘Yes sir,’ she said, and closed her eyes.