by Alana Melos
He hustled me into one of the private rooms after paying for it out of his own pocket and grabbing some soda water. The inside was much as they always were: plush couches scattered throughout a small, but comfortable, room made for liaisons and business meetings. I’d only been in these for business before and I hated going in them at all, especially with a single guy. You just knew rumors flew about those who used these rooms often and I had the thought there were more than likely cameras scattered throughout the so-called “private” rooms. I’d never heard of Malech blackmailing anyone, but it didn’t lay outside of the realm of possibility either.
“Here,” Tim said, handing me the soda water. “There’s a thing of napkins on the table… and whoa there.” He stopped talking and turned around with a red face as I had shed my jacket and was currently taking off my shirt.
“How else am I supposed to clean it off?” I growled. I sat down and dabbed at the wine on my shirt with a napkin.
“Good point,” he said, still not turning around.
I peered up at him and saw he studied the door, trying very hard not to turn around. “You have a white knight complex or something?”
“I like helping out when I can,” he said. “It’s the small things which matter… and she looked like she was going to lose it.”
“How do you know her?” I asked as I inspected my handiwork. I sent a tendril of thought his direction, just to get a handle on what he was feeling. The first and foremost was concern, a light orangey thread which lay close to the surface of his mind. However, underneath that was desire… because well, there we were in a private room with me half naked already. I would have been insulted had he not felt at least a twinge of want.
“She used to deliver items for Harry,” he said. “I got some deliveries and over time we started talking. I wouldn’t say she’s a close friend, but we’re friendly.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw him shake his head, “She… I don’t know. She changed a lot, after he died.” The hesitation and wariness in his voice told me he knew it wasn’t true as he said it. She’d changed before Harry died. More than likely she found out what a bastard he was. “What did you do to her anyway?”
“I killed Harry,” I said and held up my shirt for inspection. It would be impossible to tell if the cleaning worked until it dried, so I set it aside for the moment to let it do just that on the back of the couch I sat on.
“You wh… that was you? Why?” he asked, almost turning around, but catching himself in time.
“He double-crossed me,” I said, stating the fact. The bastard had. I wished I hadn’t killed him now. If he was alive, I could still be making him miserable. I did not take well to betrayals. I guessed Emily and I had that in common.
“Double crossed? How?” Septimus asked.
“You can sit down, you know,” I said. “My boobs are contained. You don’t have to worry about them jumping out at you or anything.”
“I… uh….” he turned and smiled bashfully. “I was being polite.” He sat down opposite me in a plush chair.
“You don’t have to be, but it’s appreciated,” I said. I watched him watch me. He still tried to only look at my face, but a woman’s breasts were evidently powerful distractors as his gaze kept slipping down. “I’m beautiful. It’s OK to look.”
“That you are,” he replied as the red in his cheeks faded bit by bit. “How did he double cross you?”
“Hired me for a job, then tried to turn me over to a third party… and without paying me,” I said, feeling irritation over the affair renew itself. All of this excess energy ran along my skin, making me a little jittery. I wanted something I wasn’t getting and this itch of mine needed to be scratched. I looked Tim over, sizing him up. “He got what he deserved.”
“I’m… not really in a position to judge that,” he said. “But no one likes a rat.”
“No one does,” I agreed as I stood up and crossed the distance between us. I wanted to let this energy out, to give it an outlet. In my experience, that meant fighting or fucking. Since violence was prohibited here, that left fucking. He tilted his head up to keep eye contact with me, a confused look crossing his more or less pleasant features as I leaned down.
“What are you doing?” he asked, eagerness staining his thoughts even as he tried to suppress it. It wasn’t ‘right’ in his point of view. I couldn’t help but to chuckle at his naiveté.
“I’m seducing you,” I said then brushed my lips across his. The excitement in his thoughts leapt forward, then he went back to trying to force them under control. He did have a remarkable will and I had a feeling if I were trying to delve into his thoughts rather than just read his surface emotions, I’d have some trouble hampered as I was right now. “Don’t you want me?”
“Only an idiot wouldn’t,” he said. He put his hands on my bare shoulders and pushed, but without any force behind it. “But we barely know each other, and what are you doing?”
Not one for beating around the bush, I slipped my hand down and massaged his hardening cock through his jeans. “I told you,” I said, looking into his grey eyes. “I’m seducing you.”
He ran his hands down my bare arms, and pushed again. I went with the motion to distance us, but I didn’t let go of his cock. “We don’t know each other,” he said, shifting around. “I don’t want you to do something you’ll reg… jeez, that’s really good…”
“I’m not going to regret it,” I said.
“What about protection?” he asked, his hips moving with my motions now. “No love without the glove,” he quipped.
I had to laugh. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” I grinned down at him. “I’m clean, and been fixed. I’m assuming since you’re so worried, you’re fine too.”
“Yeah, well, I regenerate, but I still get sick… wow, where’d you learn to do that with…?” he shook his head to clear it. “I’m serious. I mean, you’re beautiful and…” Here he stopped to groan as I kept rubbing him with a firm hand. His thumbs began moving back and forth slowly, feeling my skin as he still strove to hold me back. He didn’t put any effort into it and I kept stroking him as I watched his eyes. “... talented,” he gasped. “But I don’t think it’s something you want--”
Stopping his words with a kiss, I leaned down into him. As I let go of his cock, I slid my hand up his chest until I cupped his chin. As I did that, I settled down on his lap to straddle him. He rose up to meet me, grinding himself against me. When he opened his mouth, I invaded it with my tongue, claiming it as mine. He whimpered, though in protest or desire I couldn’t tell. Kissing him thoroughly as my hands roamed over his body, I undulated against him. Tim responded in kind, planting one of his hands at the small of my back, and the other at the base of my neck. He didn’t try to take control; the impression I got was that he was holding on for dear life.
When the kiss broke, I gulped in air and moved to kiss his cheek, then jaw. He had the faintest bit of scruff lining his otherwise clean shaven face and the prickly sensation against my cheek set my nerve endings on fire. I craved even the smallest touch and drank in every feeling I could.
“This is a bad idea, Caprice,” he half said and half whimpered as I bit his neck. “You don’t know--”
“You talk too much,” I said, taking his hand from my neck and putting it on my breast. “Just enjoy.”
His hand squeezed my small breast and I sensed indecision in his thoughts. He really thought it was a bad idea, but I couldn’t discern the reason why, nor did I care. Lust won out, as it often did. “Oh, I’m going to the bad place,” he groaned, but his cock was hard as rock underneath me. I scooted back to start unsnapping the buttons of his jeans.
“But it’ll be so much fun getting there,” I said as my finger teased along the top of his jeans, then dipped into them to stroke his hardness. “I want you, and that’s all you should be thinking about right now.”
He closed his eyes as I stroked him and, after a moment, he lifted his hips up to help me move his jeans down so
me. When his cock was free, I settled back in his lap and rubbed against him, happy I had the foresight to wear a skirt today.
“Too damn hot,” he muttered, and started to take his jacket off. Once he had freed his arms, I yanked it out from behind him and tossed it aside, heedless of his phone and other personal items spilling out on the floor. I grabbed his thin sweater and yanked it up to reveal his hard body. He was much more fit than I had first thought, but with his power it made perfect sense. Those who had regenerative abilities were often at the top of the fitness scale, without trying. I hmphed at that; I worked to keep my body perfect and he got the easy way out. Oh well. We all had different gifts.
Once I removed his sweater and tossed it to the side to join his coat, he pushed me back as he pressed his naked chest against mine. I ran my hands down his shoulders and slipped them around, clawing his back with my nails. I knew it wasn’t going to hurt him, so I let it go a little deeper than normal and I might have drawn blood.
He winced, “Hey, hey, I heal, but I still feel pain.”
I rolled my eyes and kissed him again as I slid my heat against his length. He soon lost himself in the kiss and I kept working him up, higher and higher. His desire ran through me and I drank it in, wanting to feel something else other than annoyance and anger. I lost myself in it as much as I could, gasping aloud at the emotions. I didn’t have to heighten them; he wanted me and knowing he did soothed my frayed nerves. I hadn’t even realized how frayed they’d gotten until I could step back under the pleasant haze of lust and see how upset I’d been.
Shoving the unpleasant thought away for now, I reached down and pushed my panties aside. Without much preamble, I eased myself down on his cock slowly, savoring his gasps as I tasted his lips yet again. When I’d sat down all the way, I squeezed his cock inside me as hard as I could and was rewarded with him moaning low and long.
Sitting like this, I connected to him. I didn’t mean telepathically, though I kept reading his emotions. I mean… I connected to him. He became my temporary anchor, keeping me rooted to earth, rooted to being human. I had only the foggiest of notions what that meant, but sex… sex always grounded me. It comforted me. Right now, I mattered to someone other than myself. That was important to me, narcissist that I was. I needed others to think of me first and foremost. I was worth it. Feeling how much he wanted me, I kissed him sweetly, licking my tongue along the edge of his lips, teasing him to come to me. He followed my lead and held me close, one of his hands still gripping the small of my back while the other plunged into my hair and held me tight. Right in that second, I became his whole world. What a soothing balm to my wounded ego that was.
Reveling in the feeling of simply being with someone, I began to move. I withdrew slowly, every inch of him reluctant to leave my wetness. Then, I took him back inside me just as slow, teasing him beyond belief, yet he didn’t try to rush it. He sat there, paralyzed by pleasure. Septimus continued to kiss me as I fucked him, feeding from me just as much as I was feeding from him. A brief glimpse of loneliness overwhelmed his thoughts momentarily, but it was pushed away as he embraced the here and now with me, delighting in the feel of holding someone, of being in me, of tasting my skin and mouth, and feeling the solidness of my body. At least I wasn’t the only one who had issues for once.
We moved together in harmony. As our bodies slid against one another, that delightful friction created during sex drowned me. I lost myself in it. My pent up energy was put to good use and my frustration melted away at the feel of his cock in my pussy. With every thrust into me, his desire deepened and mine echoed his. I dug my nails into his shoulders and back. In return, his hands held me tighter, pulling me to him as we fucked, each stroke long and hard. He swelled and I felt him come in me, the pleasure exploding in his mind as he could think of nothing else but the feel of me on his lap, the smell of my hair, and the taste of my lips.
It was exactly what I needed.
I came as well, tightening around him, but it wasn’t the point. Centered once more, I rode out the sensations as they washed through my body. It chased out the doubt and irritation, leaving a smoothed, clean slate behind in the wake of ecstasy. Kissing him again fiercely, I silently thanked him for letting me use him. His kiss tasted of regret and relief in equal measure.
“That… that was something,” he whispered against my lips when the kiss broke. “Wow… that’s never happened to me before….”
“Maybe I broke a streak,” I said in reply, taking a last look at his emotions. Fulfillment, regret, relief… and the beginning pink threads of affection. I sighed and moved off of him. For Septimus, sex wasn’t just about pleasure, but about companionship. I saw the start of an infatuation in his mind and I groaned at it. “You know it was just sex, right? I’m not going to be your girlfriend or anything.” As if I’d let myself get tied down… relationship wise anyway.
“Oh, yeah… yeah, of course,” he said, trying to play it cool. I straightened myself up as he struggled to get back into his jeans and look suave doing it. “Yeah, I totally do that all the time. No problem.”
I smiled at his awkward ruse. He was too nice a guy to do much more than maybe ask me out and I probably wouldn’t see him after tonight, so there wasn’t any harm in hanging out with him for FU Night. After cleaning myself off using a handkerchief which was sticking out of one of his coat pockets, I put on my shirt and buttoned it up. You had to look for the stain and the club was pretty dark, so it wouldn’t be a bother. I think my jacket covered most of it anyway.
He started to put his sweater on and, to be nice, I grabbed his jacket telekinetically and floated it over to him. “Hey, wait,” he said, alarm coloring his voice as I picked up his wallet from where it had fallen on the floor. “Don’t--”
He didn’t have to finish. I saw immediately what he didn’t want me to see: an ICPD business card with his name on it, Septimus Santoro. Paling, I looked up at him as he finished putting on his sweater. “You’re a cop.” I had just fucked a cop.
“It’s not what you think,” Septimus said as he reached for me, presumably to pat my shoulder or something. I floated up and away from him, hovering in the air a couple inches off the floor as I grabbed my jacket. “Whoa, whoa, it’s really not what you think. I’m just a consultant for them.”
I glanced at the card again and read the smaller print. “Metahuman consultant,” I said, then it clicked in my head. “Oh… oh God! You’re a white hat! A hero!” Queasiness bubbled up from the pit of my stomach. I had just fucked a fucking hero!
He stood up, “Hey, I tried to tell you it might be something you’d regret.” He didn’t put on his jacket, just stood there holding it as he reached out to me, but after another moment he lowered his hand.
“Ugh, I think I’m going to be sick,” I said as I lowered myself to the ground and fumbled my long coat on. “Oh my God... I can’t… a hero….” I saw my entire rep go down the drain as soon as this got out. People considered me unstable and somewhat untrustworthy now, what would they think when it got out I was consorting with the enemy? Literally consorting with the enemy in just about every sense a person could!
“I’m not really a hero,” he said. “I just work in the Metahuman division--”
“With the cops! How much more hero-like can you get?! Do you rescue puppies and kittens?” Nausea overwhelmed me and I put a hand over my mouth. Thankful I hadn’t eaten anything in the last couple hours, I could still feel the soda I’d drank burble in the pit of my stomach. I was not going to be sick. Not here, not now. “Oh mother fucker…”
“Hey, it’s OK, alright? I mean, we don’t have to tell anyone,” he said, his thoughts colored the grey yellow of uncertainty and the smallest bit of blue indignation.
“This is not what I need tonight,” I groaned. The weight of my sword on my back again, I considered using it, but then thought of Malech’s rule. Baring my teeth at him, my fingers toying with the hilt of my blade, I pulled my hand away, though I longed to run him through. He
’d live, after all. Probably. “I’m leaving.” I had to get away from this pit of anger, but I knew I couldn’t. My wonderful centered calmness had disappeared like the invisible man, leaving behind no trace but a vague sense of violation and broken trust.
“Hey, wait, Caprice,” he said, moving and keeping up with me as I exited the private room. “You want to just wait and talk to me? We…” Conscious of his surroundings and my mood, he bit off the last words, which undoubtedly were ‘we shared something’, or something equally as silly and inane.
I strode back towards the table, intent on finding Rebekah and Rory and getting the hell out of here. I couldn’t have cared less about Nosferatu at the moment. Let him have his plump groupie. I just wanted freedom, and the night sky, and maybe to kill someone. Like the damn dirty cop behind me. Ugh! I still couldn’t believe I’d fucked him!
As I approached the table, Tim still trying to get me to talk to him, I saw Rebekah mostly by herself. The others I knew weren’t in my immediate line of sight, but the goomba who’d hit on me earlier was there. The bright red of blood colored my vision. Before I knew what I was doing, I stepped up as Rebekah punched the jerk in the face for whatever he had said to her. My last straw snapped.
I had had enough today.
Without a thought, I slid my sword from its sheath and sliced up in the same movement. My o-wakizashi cut through the guy’s forearm, severing it. He screamed, but not for long. On the downward swing, I opened his throat. The scream cut off as if someone had flicked his light switch, but other screams erupted around us as blood sprayed from his severed artery. My frustration eased and the red melted away… but then I remembered where I was.
“Oh, crap,” Rebekah said in front of me, her pale skin even paler next to the droplets of crimson on her face.
I turned and saw Malech looming above me. Tall and breathtakingly handsome, he filled the space as people scrambled to get away from the balcony. “Whimsy,” he said, his voice cold, hard, but sweet at the same time. He couldn’t help it, being the fallen angel he was.