#but the opener us so strong i want it looping for five yrs
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akc-g · 2 years ago
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dcbutinamrev · 3 years ago
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8.“Morning cuddles are the best part of the day.” with halemadge or Hamdre
I'm a try Hamdre with this one and first person. Normally, I use third person for my ficlets but I really wanted to try working with first for a few. This one will be linked to the trilogy, set during Yrs Forever, so if you haven't read my trilogy, the links to the books are on my intro/bio post! You don't have to read it for this ficlet, but you probably should if you are interested to or want to understand the situation. It's not necessary or required! Sorry this is short by the way! I didn't have enough time to make a long one! Ask and you shall recieve!
(Modern au my beloved~)
(Told in Alexander's pov)
~~~
I wake to feel of soft, gentle lips pressing against my bare shoulder. I shiver against the coldness of those lips. I feel myself shrink, making myself feel small and vulnerable. To an outsider, I probably do. I hum softly as I feel the lips creeping up to the back of my neck, feeling his strong arms wrap around my small, narrowed waist. I swallow the lump down my throat, making it difficult for me to breathe for a moment. For a moment, we just lay their on the bed, enjoying this peaceful solitude we have with each other.
I feel his strong fingers combing back my dark red curls from behind my ears. I can feel him starting to seperate my tangled locks apart and looping them around each other. I feel the corners of my lips quirk up. Of course.
"I know you're awake," he says quietly. In a whisper. Though, I have no idea why he should feel the need to whisper as it's only just us in the house. Lafayette, Martha, and George have already left for their errands for the day. They know I don't like to be awoken from my peaceful slumber, though my heart aches at the thought of them not knowing about him.
About Andre.
Andre hums darkly, a low rumble coming from the back of his throat and presses his lips gently against my shoulder blade, his fingers tapping against my small biceps as he runs his slightly larger hand down my bare arm. I shiver against the coolness of his touch, letting out a shaky breath as I slowly crack open my eyes.
"Hm, you're correct," I say softly, rolling around so I'm fully facing him. So my back isn't pressed against his chest. I rest a hand gently on his chest, tipping my head back to meet his dark brown eyes, his cheeks flushed from last night. "I am awake."
"How long?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow as he props himself up on the bed, his elbow digging into the mattress as the blankets drape around his lap, revealing his bare upper body. I feel and look small compared to him.
"Long enough," I say.
He smirks and leans down to steal a quick kiss. I try not to grimace. "Clever." I let my eyes slip close as he combs back a loose curl behind my ear. He puffs out a breath, which startles me, and tilts his head to one elbow, furrowing his brows together, which causes me to do the same.
"What is it?" I whisper, resting a hand just below his jaw. It feels strong...but not as strong as Laurens's. "Andre?"
He breathes in slowly, shifting around so his back is pressed against the mountain of pillows behind us. He grabs hold of my wrist, gently, as though I were the most delicate thing in the world and presses a soft, tender kiss against the inside of my palm. I couldn't help but giggle at our size difference. He grins when he hears the light laugh that escapes and turns to meet my deep blue eyes.
"I can't stay here long," Andre whispers, his voice thick and husky with sleep. "You know this."
I nod reluctantly. Laurens would be here any minute now, ready to rescue me, be my knight in shining amor, and sweep me off my feet, towards King's. Away from him. Away from Andre.
"I know," I whisper, letting my head loll onto his shoulder, just below his ear. It's silent between us for roughly five seconds before I couldn't help but ask, "Do you remember when you played the fluet? When we were...down in Charleston...South Carolina...rescuing him?"
"Ah, yes," Andre chuckles, looping his arm around my small shoulders, rubbing my bare bicep up and down as he rests his cheek upon my dark red curls. His eyes tick up towards the ceiling, watching the fan above us rotate in small circles, creating a cool breeze to fill around the room. He grins at the memory.
"You said you learned that yourself?" I prompt.
Andre nods. "I did. And I wrote it myself too." A pause. "Whad did you think of it, Alexander?" He glances down at me, his eyes narrowed with deep curiosity. "I don't think I've ever fully asked."
"I thought it was beautiful," I hum.
"But not as beautiful as you," Andre says cheekily.
"Oh, you old sap!" I grumble, fondly punching him in the shoulder.
"What! It's true!" he protests, tossing both hands up int he air in surrender. He chuckles as leans down to steal another kiss. Though, he must have noticed the shift of mood based upon my expression as he furrows his brows and presses his lips tight together as he pulls back. He tilts his head worriedly to one shoulder, quirking an eyebrow, as he asks worriedly, "What's wrong, my dear?"
I feel my freckled cheeks go warm and I wrap my arms around myself, tucking my hands underneath them as if that'll keep me warm. I sheepishly glance up at him. "How...how long...Andre?"
He clicks his mouth shut and just simply stares at me.
"How long of this...? When I can I tell him?" I whimper, my voice small as myself.
Andre huffs out a breath, shaking his head. "Soon, Alexander...soon...but for now...let's enjoy now....for who knows how much time we have left with each other."
I grimace at the word "time." Oh, how I hate that word.
But I only nod in response and let myself melt in his embrace. He presses a kiss to my forehead, just above my brow and I swallow the memories of Laurens' doing just the same...
"You know..." Andre says after a few moments of silence pass between us. I don't say a word, just gaze straight ahead at my dresser that's just a few feet across the room. "Morning cuddles are the best part of my day, Alexander."
And if circumstances were changed at this moment, if Laurens was in Andre's place instead of John Andre himself...
Perhaps they would be mine too.
But as of right now...
They're not.
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norabrice1701 · 4 years ago
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An Offer Received - Part III.2
A Jaguar Villain Tom Hiddleston Character (Thomas Conrad) fanfic
Pairing: Thomas Conrad x Fem!reader
Summary: Part III.1 & III.2 - You spring Mr. Conrad’s trap and he has you. You’re his.
Rating: Part III.1 & III.2 -  Explicit sexual content NSFW smut (please be ye warned and do not proceed if not your cuppa), controlling behavior, threats of violence, f-bombs, scalpel violence, Dark!Conrad
Previously: Part III.1 - 5 Months
A/N: Here we go, and I’m gonna go hide now (promise more updates are coming, but there will be another life delay). 
GIF credit to the original poster via the Tumblr search! (just, you know, swap the suit for his bespoke tuxedo) 
Part III.2 - 5 Months
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The cabin door opened, ushering in the noise of the rotor, and Conrad slipped out with fluid grace. He extended his hand and you drew a deep, steadying breath, taking it to step out into the cold night. 
The mansion looked even bigger now that you stood before it. You couldn’t say where you were outside the city, but this had to be quite the neighborhood for this property to have its own helipad. 
Conrad tucked your arm through his, resting his other hand atop it as he steered you up the wide, sweeping stone staircase. Of course, the doorman took Conrad’s name without question and divested you of your velvet coat just as quick. Even though this was a glorified house party, the men all wore crisp, tailored tuxedos, and women dripped in evening finery and priceless jewels. 
A glass of champagne materialized in your hand as Conrad expertly navigated the sea and flow of people, exchanging greetings in passing, his face alight with the smile that you recognized from his press releases. The smile perfected to charm and disarm. But you knew the truth…the terrifying, bewildering truth that…
Dammit, why couldn’t he have just been a handsome controlling bastard, and not a handsome controlling bastard bent on world domination? Then, maybe you could let yourself surrender to every natural instinct within you that flared to life in the helicopter. The instincts that demanded you have him - preferably above you, preferably deep in you. 
Still on his arm, Conrad’s appeal was near impossible to ignore. But the weight of surrounding, curious stares helped. You wore a cordial smile, glancing among the sea of unfamiliar faces, making introductions and sipping your champagne as you approached the night’s host.
Thaddeus Ross stood with a regal bearing, face warm with his own two-faced, politician’s smile. “Good evening, Thomas,” he reached for Conrad’s hand in a solid shake, “glad you could attend.”
“Thank you, Mr. Secretary.” Conrad’s smile filled to full megawatt. “I’m glad to see you look fighting fit. The gossip mill had painted a rather bleak tale of your shoulder surgery.”
“Yes. The recovery was more arduous than anticipated, but I’m cleared to resume squash after the start of the new year.”
Conrad nodded, obviously pleased. “Splendid. Then, we shall have to arrange a court time.” He turned his disarming smile on you. “The Secretary here has one of the meanest backhands I’ve ever encountered.”
Ross scoffed. “Always the charmer, Thomas. It’ll get you in trouble one day. Now, who is this lovely woman at your side?”
Introductions passed in a flurry. Ross’ face pinched with vague recognition on your name. “You know, I recall your name…direct from Thomas’ office, correct? His administrative assistant?”
The corners of your moth pinched with irritation. “Not entirely, sir. I’m involved with the business operations of the company –“
“You know, Thomas,” Ross barreled ahead, not paying you any mind, “I’ve just received a case of 25-yr Pappy Van Winkle. What’s say we crack it open?”
“Splendid idea, sir.” Conrad turned towards you, swooping in to peek your cheek. “I shan’t be long, darling.” He released your arm and stepped away, his conversation with Ross fading into the din of the party.
Your cheeks flushed, mouth pinched tight, wanting only to yell after him. 
You weren’t just some eye-candy secretary on Conrad’s arm to be so easily tossed aside. He had chosen you for the role. He had given you nearly every key in the company. And it wasn’t because you were a brainless, easy fuck.
You fumed, taking a sip of champagne. 
“You’ll have to forgive Mr. Ross,” a regal alto voice said over your shoulder. You turned to see a stunning woman with raven hair in a bold, red gown that screamed money and taste. “He still thinks a woman’s place is bent over a stove, a Xerox machine, or his cock.” 
You couldn’t stop a soft, unsure laugh as you nodded slowly. “He does give that impression.” 
The woman eyed you with a shrewd, amused edge as she held out her hand. “Amelia Young.” 
You returned her handshake, offering your name in return. As you drew your hand back, you couldn’t help but notice a group of women, three or four strong, nodding in your direction and trying, but failing, to not stare so directly. 
Amelia laughed slow at your side. “Just ignore them.” She looped her arm through yours, steering you away. “They’re just jealous, watching you waltz in on Tom’s arm. Wearing his diamonds.” She sighed almost wistfully. “He’s always had such impeccable taste.” 
Your eyebrows climbed to your hairline. You’d never known anyone to call him Thomas before tonight, let alone Tom. You shook your head, blinking in disbelief. “That’s…rather forward of you.” 
“Ex-lovers have every right.” 
“Well, that’s not…not what he and I are.” 
“Well, not ‘ex’ certainly -” 
“I mean lovers.” You turned to Amelia with a hard gaze, fed up with the assumptions. “We’re not lovers.” 
She hummed low, the sound full of secrets you couldn’t begin to unravel. “He won’t let you take off those diamonds until he’s had you six ways to Sunday. You’re not stupid, so I’m sure you know he’s a very strategic man.” Her matching red lips curled around the rim of her champagne glass as she nodded across the room. 
You followed her gaze, easily spotting Conrad. He stood among a group of five men with that wide, boyish smile on his face as the group laughed around him. His eyes found yours effortlessly, his smile shifting for the briefest of seconds to something sharp, dangerous - then it flashed back to light playfulness. The seamless transition raced a shiver down your spine. 
Those poor fools. If only they knew they had a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 
And no, not a wolf. A fucking crocodile. 
Amelia sighed lightly. “May I also caution another word of wisdom?” She didn’t wait for your response. “You needn’t bother trying to defend what you do at LOKI. The minute Tom dropped Galinda for his secretary, it became the hottest gossip of the scene –“
“I am not his secretary.”
“You won’t convince anyone here differently. Especially not when Secretary Ross perpetuates it for all to see.”
“What about you?” You leveled her with a hard look. “You’re obviously intelligent, successful. Mr. Conrad doesn’t cheat himself on brains or beauty.”
Amelia chuckled, low and rich. “How telling that you still call him ‘Mr. Conrad’. But you’re not wrong – I’m an equity partner at a firm in the city. Cross, Young and Pine – perhaps you’ve heard of it?”
Of course, you’d heard of it. Cross, Young and Pine was the largest law firm in the city.
“That’s why I just can’t riddle it out,” Amelia continued, “Tom’s always set his sights on a partner suitable for his position, capable of presenting just the image he wants. Take Galinda, for example – award-winning and gorgeous. What do you possibly have to compete with that?” She glanced around the room. “That’s the exact question on everyone’s mind right now. What did you do to be worthy of those diamonds?
“I did my job. I’m still doing my job. If helping chart record-setting revenue each quarter, expanding the world’s already largest tech giant, further cementing Mr. Conrad’s successful legacy isn’t enough for you – and this room – then…perhaps something in this room needs to change.”
Oh, god. Were those truly your words? Or…his?
Your gaze narrowed ever so slightly, wondering. Surely…surely Amelia wasn’t also recruited? Surely, he knew better than to fold in lovers. Lovers presented impossible to control emotional risk. Far better to stick to the impersonal rationale of business logic as a recruitment basis, in your mind.
Your stomach churned on the thought. God, just one conversation in a helicopter and you were already starting to see…. But that’s when you wondered – was Amelia a deliberate plant? You knew Conrad planned his moves five steps ahead – had he told Amelia to orchestrate this conversation to sway you into accepting his recruitment?
Something in Amelia’s upturned mouth and upset gaze told you different, though. No, it looked more like she was just a jealous ex, out to needle the next in line. “You’re right, something does need to change,” she shook her head, the movement disparaging, “I’ll have to have a word with Secretary Ross about allowing esteemed guests to bring their office trash to such a function.”
“Careful, Amelia,” you snapped, “that didn’t used to mean me. Someday, that  might just include you, too.”
You turned from her, weaving through the crowd, not wanting to hear another word. No one seemed to pay any mind to your departure and Amelia didn’t follow you. You spied doors leading to an expansive terrace, stepping out into the night to escape the cheery suffocation.
The winter wind bit at your skin, rippling shivers down your spine, but you paid it little mind. Amelia’s words echoed in your mind, incensing you further. You were sick of it – all the assumptions, all the gossip. You were worth far more than what you had under your dress, and if that entire room thought you only got to where you were because you let him fuck you…. 
How you wanted to set the record straight. How you wanted to prove them all wrong.
Intransigent misogynists.
Of course, you partly blamed Conrad, too. He hadn’t bothered to speak in your favor when Ross steamrolled you earlier. In fact, he’d been quick to jump on the Secretary’s suggestion to adjourn for bourbon. You had quite a fondness for bourbon and would have enjoyed it, had you been seen as more than just the office piece of ass.
Your hands clenched against the freezing stone railing as your lips curled. You wanted to scream out into the night, to let it all go, to let loose the immense frustration of the last six hours. 
Heavy warmth fell around your shoulders, bringing with it the unmistakable scent of Conrad’s cologne. You hung your head, instinct compelling you to further burrow into the warmth, drown yourself in something so enticing.
His voice was soft in your ear. “Do you really prefer the winter’s chill to the party inside?”
“Are you kidding?” You took a deep breath. “It’s warmer out here than that crowd inside.”
He huffed an amused breath. “An astute observation.”
“Is Amelia one your recruits?” You turned to him, hoping to discern the truth. His face, half-lift from the party inside and half-shadowed from the dark night, nearly took your breath away. The soft glow smoothed the hard angles and lines of his face, his azure eyes stunning in their clarity. 
Why did he have to be so painfully handsome?
He moistened his lips against the winter breeze, his eyes fixed to yours. “No. She has her own ideologies that are ill-suited to my purpose. Our liaison ran its course but is best left in a past that does not concern you.”
“Doesn’t concern me?” You scoffed. “You’re asking me to join your grand scheme; you’ve placed god knows how many thousands of dollars of diamonds around my neck – which I can read through the lines, means you expect me to sleep with you tonight – and if you want any of that, then you better fucking start being more forthcoming.”
Pride flashed in his eyes for the briefest second before it vanished, replaced by something stern, commanding, displeased. “While I admire your boldness, you would do better to mind your reckless behavior.” He stepped closer, and you wanted to take an instinctive step back. “Loose lips sink ships, as the saying goes. You know all that you need to know, and nothing more. Pressing for more information will only serve to annoy, and I’d much prefer more pleasurable courses of action in your company – as you so crudely alluded to.”
Despite the winter’s chill, you felt heat rise in your cheeks, forcing a hard swallow. “Nearly everyone assumes I fucked you to get this job.”
“And how gloriously wrong they all are.” His lips curled with a wicked edge. “Gives you the advantage.”
“Is that what you call it? The endless frustration of being regraded as little better than a ladder climber who’s not above fucking her way to the top?”
“I told you the world needed to change.”
The intensity of his gaze lit your insides on fire. God, how you wanted to stay the focus of that sharp, precise intensity. How you wanted to feel it against your lips, your skin. How would wanted that voice, low, sinful, filthy in your ear.
You tore your gaze from his, looking out over the dark lawn at the idle helicopter, as you drew a deep breath. You didn’t even realize how heavy your breathing had become in his close proximity.
The weight of his arm wrapped around your back, tucking you against his side. “Come along, darling,” he purred softly, “we’ve accomplished all that we can here.”
He lead you down the terrace stairs, out to the main lawn. All too late, you realized that you didn’t have your velvet coat, but he dismissed it, instead ushering you towards the waiting helicopter.
Ensconced in the cabin, still draped in his jacket, your frustration did little to ebb. Conrad’s suave, tempting, infuriating presence did nothing to help as the helicopter lifted off and sped across the sky.
He sat next to you, calm-as-you-please, sipping from a gold-rimmed teacup and saucer. Somehow, a tea service had materialized in the cabin between your arrival and departure from Secretary Ross’ house – you shouldn’t be surprised. Especially now as he sat, looking unfairly dignified in just his crisp dress shirt and black braces, his bow tie still perfect at this throat.
At length, you nodded at the tea service. “Let me guess. Another of your recruits?”
“If you’re going to insist on guessing who is and isn’t recruited to my cause, then keep such musings to yourself. Not everyone who works for me knows the true endgame.” He glanced over with a slight curl to his lips. “And if you’re so determined to either remain silent or pick a fight for the duration of our journey, we can dispense with the rest of foreplay, and I’ll just have you right here.”
Breath punched out of your lungs, arousal slamming full throttle through you. He had no right to make it sound so easy, so definitive. Unconsciously, your legs twitched together as heat flushed your cheeks.
Of course, his perceptive gaze missed none of your reaction. He tipped his teacup back, lazily finishing the contents before setting it back on the tea tray. With the same grace as earlier, he slid from his chair, taking a knee in front of you.
You turned your head away, fighting to keep a clear head. That’s what you wanted, right? You didn’t want to fall into his arms, into his bed – you couldn’t possibly surrender to his control. To his crazed plan for world domination that you knew nothing about.
Right?
His breath rumbled low, so close to your skin. “I do hate seeing you so frustrated, darling.”
“You’re goddamned right I’m frustrated,” you grumbled, “but you have no one to blame but yourself.”
Sure, it was risky mouthing off to him. But could you let yourself cross that line? The minute you fell into his bed was the minute everyone became right about you – sleeping with the boss, and for what?
Because you want, a traitorous voice whispered. Oh, how you wanted.
Soft lips fell to your turned cheek, infusing you with a new wave of his cologne mixed with evening-worn exertion. “No matter what you tell yourself in that pretty head of yours, the truth of your desire is undeniable.” The tip of his nose dragged along the skin of your jaw. “The way your breath hitches when I draw near. I suspect my cologne pleases you.” A kiss pressed to the underside of your jaw, followed by another, and your head tilted instinctively back. “The way your eyes darken with hunger the longer you gaze upon me. Mirrors my own, I would imagine.” His strong hand fell to your knee and you jolted under the delicate touch as he continued to nuzzle the skin of your jaw. “You’re positively trembling, love. Why torture yourself so?”
You breathed shakily. “Everyone already thinks I’m a power-hungry whore, and falling into bed with you does nothing to prove them wrong.” You gasped as his steady fingers teased up the inside of your thigh, sliding against soft fabric. “From earlier, I know enough now that I’m surely a liability to you – you can’t afford to not control me – just as you’ve fucking done since we first met….” You forced a hard swallow against a nibble over your racing pulse. “And despite knowing all of that – it’s fucking maddening that I still want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight.” 
His hot breath rushed against your skin in a noise of wild satisfaction. Of victory. His fingers tightened on your thigh in a possessive, dominating hold. 
He had you. And you both knew it. Worse yet, you wanted it. Ached for it. 
Your heart beat wildly in your chest, anticipating his next move. Waiting for his devouring kiss, hovering on the edge of his touch on your thigh that refused to seek out the ache between your legs. Your breath came in shallow draws, every nerve-ending screaming for more, for anything, for everything. 
“Oh, my darling.” His voice rumbled, low and unbearably smug, as the tip of his nose nuzzled your cheek. “I will have you be mine - all mine.” His nose pressed along yours, and your head tilted, driven on pure instinct. Enticing lips hovered just above yours, breathing the same electric air. 
The helicopter jolted with a gentle settling motion, punching through the cloud of arousal. You turned to the window with wide, stunned eyes, startled to see the helipad and city lights surrounding you. How had the ride gone by so fast? 
Conrad didn’t give you time to think. He pulled you from the helicopter, keeping you close at his side with the surprising strength concealed in his lithe form. The elevator doors hadn’t even closed before your back was against the mirrored wall and he engulfed you. Still, his kiss eluded you - just a teasing, out of reach promise, as he let the full length of his body press to yours, against the stiff outline of your corset, torquing your desire higher. 
His teeth closed over your earlobe and you whimpered, unable to hold back the needy sound. A feral gasp tore from his throat, rushing more heat through you. The thought of this man coming undone by you, because of you exhilarated you.
The elevator chime sounded over the blood pounding in your ears, and you found yourself pressed against him as the doors opened to reveal the lobby exclusive to his apartment. He folded you against him, your back pressed tight to the furnace of his chest. The brush of his hard, straining arousal against your backside derailed your sensible thought. 
“I wasn’t untruthful earlier - you’ve looked gorgeous all evening.” His words rumbled against your skin, deep and smooth as he navigated you through his low-lit apartment. “This dress reveals your best assets, yet keeps all your secrets.” 
You sighed, the reality of your situation sinking in your stomach as his fingers toyed along the side-zipper of your dress. Turning your head, you nuzzled against as much skin as you could reach, breathing him in. “My secrets are yours tonight.” 
He growled his approval, tugging on the zipper. “Tonight, tomorrow - whenever I desire.” 
Yes, yes, your body cried out, but you choked the words off, mouthing at his skin. You couldn’t fully give him that satisfaction. His fingers slipped inside, skimming over the ridges of your corset, and his arousal twitched in approval. The sensation pulled an instinctive thrust of your hips, chasing the feel of him against you. 
His chuckle dripped with molten desire. “We’ll get to that, darling. You’re…so much more responsive than I anticipated.” 
Your hands reached back behind you, desperate for purchase. To clench in the fine fabric of his dress shirt, to tear at the catch of his trousers, to rip the braces from his shoulders. But the journey of his hand, up and over a breast, kneading the skin that mounded at the corset’s top made you further melt into him. He held you firm at his mercy, trailing that hand down your front, teasing down until he brushed the smooth silk of your underwear. God, there would be no hiding from him now. 
His clever fingers pried the delicate fabric aside, groaning deep and feral. You didn’t know if he expected you to be shaved or not, but his fingers sweeping against bare skin obviously pleased him. Another whimper tore from your throat as his fingers slipped through your folds, easily aided by what he found. 
He exhaled hard, his body shaking with the last vestiges of control. “You’re fucking soaked for me, love…how callous of me to make you wait all evening for something you so obviously want.” He thrust his hips forward as his fingers set to work in earnest, teasing both inside and out. 
You threw your head back to his shoulder, surrendering to his touch, to every sensation he flooded through your body. Your lips moved against his skin, drunk on his cologne, drunk on him. “Please, sir…please….” 
“Soon. So very soon.” His fingers fell away, abandoning the smooth fabric of your undergarments and returning to the zipper. He stepped back to further work the dress from your body until the fine fabric puddled at your feet. “Now, to the bed,” his voice conveyed full, dark authority, “and for each step, you will abandon another article, leaving the diamonds for last.” 
A nervous swallow worked down your throat as you noticed you now stood in his bedroom. A strip-tease? You’d never done that before…would - what would he consider sexy? A teasing show? Or simply pulling things off? 
His hand lightly smacked against the swell of your backside, startling you back. “Stop overthinking it. I want you naked in my bed, and I want you to unravel for me. Now…may I suggest shoes first?” 
Without further protest, you looked down to your feet, stepping out of one heel, than the other. Certainly, it wouldn’t be sexy to unevenly hobble across the floor. You took a step forward, approaching the luxurious bed as you settled a hand to the hooks of the corset. The constricting fabric eased its hold and your breasts fell free as you dared to glance over your shoulder at him. 
Thought abandoned you at the sight. His dress shirt now hung half unbuttoned from his strong shoulders, a mouthwatering swath of finely haired skin on display. With the fallen braces and the catch of his trousers undone, they slumped low on his hips, teasing the promise of such sweet fulfillment. 
You turned back for the bed, continuing to work the hooks of your corset. It fell to the floor with a solid thump and you took another step towards the bed. You could just hear the sounds of rustling, shifting cloth behind you but you didn’t look back. Raising your hands, stretching out the line of your back, you reached up for the pins in your hair. 
A solid weight crashed into you, knocking the breath from your lungs. Strong fingers tore at the silk of your underwear, the delicate fabric ripping audibly as you fell forward onto the bed under the hot, solid weight of what you now realized was him. All of naked him. 
You had to see him. Twisting against him, you struggled to roll onto your back but he held you fast against the soft bed covers. God, you could feel it - the weight of his heavy cock against your thigh, and you couldn’t help but grind back into him, desperate to just feel him. His lips trailed along the back of your neck, nipping along the line of your shoulders. You’d never thought you were much of one for being dominated…but everything within you burned at his prowess.
A low chuckle rumbled his chest against your back. “Quite the compliment, darling, and we’ve barely begun.” 
Good god, had you actually said that aloud? 
He answered with another chuckle, clearly reading the shocked realization on your face. “You needn’t hide from me. Not any more, and certainly not now.” Warm, steady fingers fell to the outside of your leg, guiding and molding, contorting your back such that your legs lay parted for him, hips angled while your chest still rested against the mattress. “Let me hear you, love. Every feeling I give you.” 
Your body jolted as his fingers brushed feather-light along your dripping need. There was no need to pretend - no brain power left to censor your reactions to his touch. Nimble and delicate, his fingers settled into a rhythm - those pianist’s fingers playing you masterfully. A sudden gust of hot breath was your only warning before the flat of his tongue licked a maddening stripe that nearly catapulted you into orbit. 
Your heart was surely going to explode, twisting in his hold, surrendering everything your body had to him. His movements rolled you over onto you back, exposing yourself fully to him as he devoured you with his fingers curled deep and his tongue swirling the most exquisite patterns. Words fell from your lips, thought drowned by the onslaught of his relentless pursuit. “Oh, god…please, sir! Fuck…oh, fuck….” 
A dragging pinch of his teeth broke the dam. White hot release exploded within you, your legs tightening around him as you rode the shockwaves. His mouth closed over you, chuckling in wicked satisfaction, as his fingers continued their strokes. You gasped as lingering pleasure turned to overstimulated discomfort.
You squirmed under his continuing ministrations, trying to find some relief. But he kept pace with you, mouthing an easy, lazy design as his fingers moved. “Sir…,” you gasped, hands clenching in the sheets at the continued discomfort, “sir, please…it’s - it’s too much, too soon.” 
He lifted his gaze, breaking away for the briefest moment of respite. “Is that anyway to say thank you? You can take it, love…and when you’re ready to break, I’ll give you what we both want you to have.” His hips rolled against your thigh, tearing a moan from you. 
His mouth descended with a vengeance. Only now did you realize how gentle he was after your first release, but now - he was a man possessed. You barely recognized the sounds passing your lips as he worked you ever steadily higher. Your wayward hand landed in his hair, gripping the natural waves until a vice-like grip wrenched it free, forcing it down to the mattress. A burning knot of pleasure grew at the base of your spine, so close to the edge, teetering just there. 
His fingers and mouth withdrew, leaving you aching and bereft. A trembling gasp tore from your throat, forcing your eyes open to watch him slither up your body. His lips, tangy and wet, found yours as you folded around him. You rolled your hips, cradling his between your spread thighs as he braced on a forearm. Thick, blunt pressure rested where you wanted it most, hooking your leg around his backside to push him forward. 
He groaned low in his throat, teeth tugging your bottom lip. “Hmmm, what do we say, love?” 
You knew what he wanted to hear. “Please, sir…,” you couldn’t bring yourself to care, “please fuck me, sir.” 
He sighed in pleased satisfaction as he slammed his hips forward. A cry tore from you as you felt your body nearly split in two from the intrusion. You didn’t want to admit how long it had been since your last lover, and the sudden invasion took a moment of adjustment. But he spared you no moment to breathe, picking up where his fingers and tongue left off. It shouldn’t feel so good - the ebbing discomfort, the escalating pleasure - but you’d never felt anything more perfect. 
“Want you to feel this for days,” he punctuated his words with sharp, precise thrusts, “want you to remember who made you feel this way. Who made you cry out at the feel of his cock inside you.” 
Each filthy word in that sinful voice torqued you higher. You gripped his shoulders tight, doing your best to meet him, feeling him strike that elusive place deep within you each and every time. 
“Want you to come for me now,” he gasped, rough and serrated, “want to feel you so fucking tight on my cock. Come now, my darling.” 
Your body helplessly obeyed, convulsing around him, dragging him down to his own euphoric release. 
Sweat beaded along your forehead as you struggled to breathe. Your hand trembled as you trailed down his spine, swiping through the moisture that spotted the skin. It was easy, so easy to sink into the mattress under his weight, boneless and drifting. 
You licked your lips, debating the merit of your next words. But what would they really cost you? You pressed a kiss to his cheek, whispering softly, just for him. “Thank you, sir.” 
He turned, his eyes all-consuming and impossibly dark in the close proximity. “If you think we’re done here, then you’re sorely mistaken.” 
When he finally relented and you both slumped against the mattress, spent from your fourth release and his second inside you - you’d never known a more peaceful, mindless sleep. 
Until…his lilting voice drifted in your, luring you back to consciousness. 
“Darling…come on now, darling.”
Slowly, you stirred against the sheets, drawing a deep breath. Everything in you hummed with sleepy, boneless contentment. Even the twinge in your muscles was pleasant.
You opened you eyes, stretching against the soft pillow, arching against the warmth of him. Rolling over, the long line of him stretched against you and distant city light played off his pale skin. He was the picture of comfortable perfection, with his head propped on a hand as he gazed down at you. It should probably unnerve you, if he was watching you sleep.
He leaned down, brushing his lips to your forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Mmmm, absolutely sated.”
He purred, pressing another kiss to your skin. “Exactly what I wanted to hear.”
Darkness still filled the room and you couldn’t help but wonder the time. Why had he woken you up exactly? You tilted your head, pressing your lips to the nearest available skin. “Did you want something?
His mouth curled with a dark, wicked edge as he gathered you closer to him. “You’re mine now. Here, in my bed – your body. In my office – your mind. And there’s so much that lies ahead…so much yet that we haven’t even begun to explore…” His fingers trailed over your flank, pulling an involuntary shiver from you. His face softened with approval. “So responsive, so good for me….”
Your heart accelerated at the possessive tone of his voice. None of it sat well with you, but you’d made your bed. Literally. What else could you do but lay in it? Especially since you wanted to keep on living.
His forehead rested against yours, breath hot against your lips. “So good for me,” he repeated, brushing your lips, “say it for me, love.”
You sighed, moistening your lips. “So good for you.” The words sunk like lead in your stomach. It felt like the point of no return. The ultimate surrender.
The tug of his smile pulled against your lips as he placed a lingering kiss. He pulled back with a sigh. “Rest now, darling. May I bring you anything?”
The simple offer tugged a smile to your face, a fluttery feeling erupting in your stomach. “No, thank you…that’s kind of you to offer.”
Nothing on his smile changed as he pulled back and you rolled over on your side, settling back against the pillow. The sheet shifted as he moved, the bed dipping as he pulled away to sit up. You didn’t think anything of it, letting yourself drift off in the haze of sweet exhaustion. He shifted again, the bed moving down by your feet, warm fingers caressing your ankle.
Sharp, searing pain exploded on the heel of your left foot. A cry ripped from your throat as the pain flooded you, jerking you back to reality. The solid weight of his body descended on your leg, firmly holding your foot in place as another white-hot line of pain erupted on the bottom of your foot.
“Stop! Stop!” You feebly clawed at him, crying out in another wave of agony. If he bothered to respond, you couldn’t hear it over the pounding of blood in your ears and your own anguished cries.
At last, the sharp pains receded, leaving a heavy, aching throb in its place. Tears streaked your face as you lay, gasping against the sheets. He shifted off your leg and you caught the gleam of a sharp metal scalpel as he withdrew to the edge of the bed.
“What…what did you do to me?” Hands shaking with adrenaline, you tried to push yourself up.
His fingers wrapped around your arm in a supportive gesture, his face the picture of serene calm. As if he hadn’t just mutilated the bottom of your foot. “You’re marked as mine now. Like so many others.”
Your eyes widened, horrified. “I don’t…don’t understand.”
“See for yourself.”
You tore your gaze from his, down to your foot bleeding over the bed linens. If he cared about the mess made of his bed, he didn’t show it. Sniffling back more tears, wincing at the tender pain, you bent your leg, angling to see.
The heel of your foot bled freely from neat lines carved into your skin. Lines designed to scar. Lines designed to identify. Your crimson blood stood in stark contrast to the color of your skin, and you could clearly make out the carved symbol. 
VI
The roman numeral for 6. You gulped as your head dropped to your chest. 
How many great empires did he say the world had known?
He hummed with pride, the sound rumbling his lips when they pressed against your bare shoulder. “Do you recognize it?”
A tear rolled down your cheek. “The number six. You…earlier you said the world has only known five truly great empires, so far.”
“Your intelligence never disappoints me.” He dropped another kiss to your shoulder, edging forward to press your back to his firm chest. “The marking of foot soldiers is as old as civilization itself. Why, the commanders of the Roman Legions could always tell when their men betrayed them to the enemy by the casks of severed feet, each one emblazoned with the mark of the foot soldier.”
The thought made you shudder, and he held you tighter, a play at a comforting, lover’s embrace. You shook your head, forcing a swallow. “You don’t need to continue. I understand your point.”
An effective insurance policy. A means to identify you as a player in his quest to create the sixth greatest empire. A means to ensure your silence or identify you as a traitor. 
“I had every expectation.” His lips pressed to the side of your neck. “Now, let’s get you cleaned and bandaged - infection just won’t do. After that, you’re welcome to stay until late morning, or your car’s waiting for you in the parking garage, stall 45B. Your choice.”
Up Next: Part IV - 5 Minutes
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