Subject: Heat Wave 5 |
Author:
'chelle
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Date Posted: 10:24:08 01/05/02 Sat
In reply to:
'chelle
's message, "Heat Wave" on 10:01:34 01/05/02 Sat
Note: Behold the start of WMS.. brace yourselves accordingly.
Chapter Five
Nikita checked herself in the mirror one last time before considering herself composed enough to go back out with Michael. She was quite certain that if the police siren had not sounded when it had, they would have ended up making love right there in the middle of the glassed lobby. Nikita shook her head and smiled ruefully. What that man did to her should be illegal.
She exited the bathroom and walked over to their private nook. She noticed he had moved some more plants around to give them an even greater degree of privacy from anyone who would happen to pass by. He had discarded the rest of his gear and had pulled his hair back to keep it out of his face. Much like he kept it usually for his missions. He was sitting on the floor, staring out into space, his back to her. He looked so contemplative, she had a strong urge to ask him what he was thinking about, but knew that he would never answer her if she did. She walked slowly toward him, pushing the leaves from a plant out of her way. He glanced up at her, an unreadable light coming into his eyes. He lifted up a hand to assist her, pulling her down close to him, but not close enough to touch. It was too hot to be too close.
"Any news from Birkoff?" she arranged the pillows behind her.
"No." He couldn't pull his eyes away from her.
She nodded and looked around the room. The sun was streaming in the large windows, heating up the area. It was 1:30 in the afternoon- the heat was just reaching its peak. Even without her blouse, Nikita was uncomfortable with the heat in the lobby. "So, we are here for the duration."
He nodded, shifting his body to the side, then reached up and brushed a damp curl from her cheek. "Are you still hot?"
She turned her head back to regard him, mesmerized by the sparkle in his eyes, she could do nothing except nod, feeling his fingertips on her face. The touch sending tingles of pleasure through her. "Michael?"
They held the gaze for a while, then Michael turned, eyes forward, a pensive look on his face. He held his hands together, each forearm balanced on an upraised knee.
Nikita touched his right arm, "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," he answered. Slowly forcing his gaze back to hers. He looked at the marks still visible, the ones he had so tenderly stroked moments before.
"They really don�t hurt that much." She answered his unspoken question. It wasn't like him to show her his agitation. He always kept things that bothered him bottled up where no one could see.
He looked around the room as if to seek reassurance from the surroundings. To somehow find something to concentrate on and forget the agony he had just endured. Listening to her being beaten had been a replay of his nightmare. The same gut-wrenching nightmare that had tormented his sleep for the past months.
Even though he knew why the dreams had begun again after all these years, he didn't understand why this dream was so different from the old nightmares, those cursed souvenirs of days gone by. All those months ago, when Nikita had been in the female prison, pulling out an enemy operative. There had been on an open channel between them when she had been discovered� when the beatings had started.
He'd thought he had put it all behind him, but when the nightmares had begun again, he knew there was still a long way to go. Then today, hearing her cries, the thuds of heavy fists pounding into her- the fear and helplessness had welled up in him again. He had heard her scream and tremors had racked his body. He knew he couldn't have saved her if Capistrano had wanted to finish the job quickly. With a moan of anguished pain and animalistic rage, he had cursed the powers of heaven and earth as he had raced up the stairs.
In his recent dreams, she cried out for him, and he was un-able to save her. His only hope for peace, destroyed by the entity they both lived and worked for.
Now his angel was here again, marred but not broken. He had to start believing in her. In the fact that she could save herself. She wasn't a china doll; she was the woman he had trained. A woman who could stand on her own. A woman who carried enough compassion and love for them both.
His woman.
Leaning in, he kissed her softly, tenderly, on the cheek. His hand moved up to rest on her breast, stroking and kneading it. Nikita closed her eyes and tilted back her head. "Is this a dream?" She asked.
"Oui." he whispered into her hair. "My dream." He lowered her gently to the floor, and ground his hips against hers, crushing her trembling body deeper into the pillows.
"Oui." he whispered again. He kissed her, his lips masterful in their seduction. Moving his fingers to the edge of her silky blouse, he drew it completely off her shoulders. Lowering his head, he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking greedily through the lacy barrier of her bra.
Lifting her up to him, his hands going behind her, releasing the clasp on her bra. He buried his face between her breasts, allowing his tongue to paint an erotic trail from one erect nipple to the other. She arched against him, thrusting upward against his throbbing arousal.
"Why Michael, why now� " She clung to his shirt, taking handfuls of the cloth in an attempt to draw him closer to her.
He grasped the waistband of her skirt, tugging downward until he encountered her bikini briefs. Slipping his fingers inside the top of her panties, he lowered both underwear and skirt down and off.
Urgently pulling at his shirt, she managed to pull it up to bunch under his armpits; he lifted himself off her and removed his shirt, tossing it toward another chair.
"I want to feel you against me�please Michael." Pulling his body back down onto her, she could feel his broad smooth chest over her breasts, the action tightening her nipples to diamond-hard points. "I'm burning up Michael, please." She didn't understand his need for this, but she wasn't going to stop it. She reached for his belt, and was startled when he pushed her hands away. "Michael?"
"I want you to burn higher." He ran his hand between her thighs, delving his fingers through the tight blond curls and between her moist folds. "I want to feel you melt."
She moaned, squirming beneath the knowledgeable strokes of his fingers as he fondled and petted her sensitive flesh beginning at her breasts, Michael aroused her to a fever pitch with the repeated licking and sucking motions of his mouth and tongue as they created a fiery path downward. He eased her legs further apart, his kisses coating the inside of her thighs.
She writhed beneath him, her body responding to his every touch as if it had never known a man. The sensations crashing over her, powerful, hungry, lustful.
His mouth covered her intimately. She groaned.
He tortured her, bringing her close to the edge, then retreating, returning to bring her to the edge again.
She grabbed handfuls of his cinnamon hair, trying to pull his marauding mouth away. "Please...please�"
Raising his head, he looked at her, satisfied by the wild look in her eyes, the passion-drugged expression on her face.
Inch by inch, he edged his body upward until he covered her, then he raised himself on his elbows, lowered his head and took one peaked nipple between his teeth.
Nikita cried out from the pleasure. Her body was so sensitized that a mere touch shot through her with aching intensity. "Now!" she cried out, gripping his buttocks in her hands, clutching the soft fabric of his trousers.
Michael jerked his zipper open, shoved his slacks and briefs down below his hips and rammed into her with shocking force. He felt her buck beneath him, heard her loud moans, and smelled the strong, heady aroma of her womanly scent. He wanted to ask if he was being too rough, but he was too far-gone to be capable of speech. The world condensed to include nothing except the two of them, her body, his body, the fast hard thrusts of his manhood, the answering undulating rhythm of her femininity.
Sweat-slick and passion- hot, they mated, with the hard heavy needs within them ruling their every move until one final lunge propelled them to the ultimate fulfillment.
She shook with a release so strong she thought she might never recover from the forceful shudders that continued claiming her when he emptied into her. His groaning cries of fulfillment echoed in the stillness of the lobby as his body trembled.
Her man, stronger and more powerful than most, lay weak and drained in the arms of the woman who loved him. Loved him enough to die for him. Even enough to kill for him. The thought of loving someone so deeply and completely scared them both.
With their bodies still joined, Nikita stroked his sweat soaked back, waiting for him to compose himself again.
He placed a kiss on her lips, deep long and satisfying
"Would you like to tell me what that was all about?" Nikita asked quietly.
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