Chapter Text
for
[ royai week 2021 ]
prompt: "illicit affairs"
lowkey (adv.)
slang variant of low-key
used to moderately convey one’s thoughts, desires, and feelings with low emotional intensity
also used as an alternative to ‘secretly’
one: the bedroom’s vacant
I'll just let you know bedroom's vacant
No one's gotta know, just us and the moon 'til the sun starts wakin'
Up's the only direction I see
As long as we keep this
lowkey
You ain't even gotta love me
Us in a king-size, keep it a secret
Say I'm your queen, I don't wanna leave this
lowkey
(lowkey by NIKI)
(lowkey by NIKI (LIVE version; even more lowkey version))
What has she gotten herself into?
Riza swirls her glass, wondering what she would do when the cops came through. Although she is dressed for the occasion— all dolled-up like the rest of the fancy women in the ballroom— she knows she isn’t supposed to be there in the first place. Hadn’t the guards realized they made a mistake by not asking her name? Perhaps they were foolish. Or perhaps she played her part all too well. Since the moment she came, people were stealing glances, initiating conversations, making it harder for her to get straight to her objective.
Riza shifts in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable by the feel of cold silk brushing against her thigh. Missions involving public appearances are never part of her preference. She would much rather spend most of her time infiltrating a building without leaving any trace, the same way a shadow moves swiftly in the dusk. Years in the academy keeps her light on her feet, almost wraith-like, where most people never knew she’d been beside them unless she wanted to make her presence known. But that isn’t the main reason why most people hire her.
She dips the cold glass to her lips, her amber-brown eyes piercing far out into the crowd. With every man dressed in a manner that almost looked identical to each other, anyone would have easily lost sight of any man. But not for Riza. She wouldn’t be called The Hawk’s Eye if she hadn’t locked her eyes on her target no matter the situation. For a venue so large, men and women were packed in the middle of the ballroom as if they were a flock of pigeons scavenging a pinch of breadcrumbs. And the crumb in question was conveniently Roy Mustang.
Even from afar, Riza can tell he is practically the center of attention. She bet everyone thought the event was made especially for him . This is supposed to be just another night for the socialites to mingle, not a ball for Prince Charming. Roy is sweeping every woman’s feet wherever he went, and not just any woman, but the ones that stood out the most. One minute he’s at the atrium talking to a tall brunette, and the next, he’s leading an attractive redhead to the door.
Riza lifts her glass for another drink, only to find that the whiskey had run out.
Sighing, she checks her watch— 10:30 PM. She had been in the ballroom for 5 hours. All she heard was that he was a lawyer from East City, an ex-military , and the leading candidate for the next set of senators.
Nothing the public doesn’t know.
It is no wonder that President Bradley had assigned her this cause. She almost feels bad for underestimating the difficulty of this task. A lawyer with no first-hand experience on politics had suddenly sprung up as one of the public’s senatorial bets. No criminal record, no familial history on display. But to ensnare the attention of the President himself— Riza knows she shouldn’t take this task lightly.
She bites the insides of her cheeks, a habit she does whenever she’s changing her plans. If nobody bears substantial information about Roy Mustang, she might as well dig it out from him herself.
Her eyes scan the crowd, calculating her next course of action. But the longer she does, the sooner she realizes she lost sight of him.
Damn it all.
Riza was about to stand up, when two well-dressed women approached the bar. They were the girls she last saw with Roy.
“Don’t be silly!” the brunette giggles. “He never takes anything seriously.”
“But he told me I was beautiful.” The redhead rakes the stool beside Riza, propping herself on it.
“He tells that to every woman he meets,” the brunette drawls.
“Well, he is right,” argues the redhead. “Isn’t every woman beautiful?”
Riza holds back a chuckle, and their eyes snap onto her— she immediately clears her throat.
The redhead moves her seat farther away from her, letting Riza sigh in relief. To think that Mr. Mustang had turned down these two beautiful, wealthy women. They look like candidates for beauty pageants.
“Did you get his number?” the brunette chirps.
“I did.”
The brunette gasps. “ You got his number? The Roy Mustang’s number?”
Riza arches her brows, somewhat thankful that the conversation reached the threshold of her hearing.
“Oh, but he hasn’t been answering my texts.”
“Welcome to the club, then.”
“You have his number, too?” asks the redhead.
The brunette shrugs. “He asked me out a few weeks ago.”
Riza can’t help but roll her eyes. So the rumors are true, he is a serial dater.
“Did you two, you know,” the redhead trails off.
“With him? Oh, no, no,” the brunette admits, cheeks flushed. “It was just one casual date. We never made it that far.”
Riza nods slowly. Not so much of a casanova after all.
“Really? Maybe he’s just too busy,” the redhead teases.
“I doubt it,” the brunette mopes. “Besides, he’s already asked you.”
The redhead giggles, so loud and high-pitched it ends up getting on Riza’s nerves. “Do you think I’ve got a chance?”
“I wouldn’t know,” says the brunette. “So if you’re thinking of getting laid, forget it.”
The redhead gasps. “Do you think he’s inexperienced?”
The brunette chuckles. “I highly doubt that.”
“Then why didn’t he—”
“Some men have standards,” the brunette spat. “Especially a man in his stature.”
The redhead whines aloud (Riza struggles to keep her mouth shut from spurting out a salty comment). “Oh well. I hear men like him curate their reputation more than their relationships.”
“Definitely a red flag.”
“But if you’re just up for the thrill,” the redhead hums. “Why not go for it, right?”
A smirk crosses the brunette’s face. “Of course.”
The redhead sighs dreamily. “I guess he’s the man for everything, except for a relationship.”
Riza fidgets the hem of her silk dress. She doubts that Roy being a notorious womanizer will suffice as vital information, especially in President Bradley’s standards. Dread slowly coils around her stomach, an acrid reminder that her time is ticking. If she hadn’t made any progress in this assignment, who knows what the government had in store for her as her sanction. More importantly, she’d have no place else to go when she loses this job. She bites the insides of her lip as she thinks of her single, most calculated last resort. She must approach Roy Mustang. But where could he be?
Before she could move another muscle, a series of giggles shakes Riza out of her trance.
“My, speak of the devil,” the redhead perks up. “Look who’s coming our way.”
Riza snaps her head to where the girls were looking, only to find Roy Mustang strutting past the crowd as if he owns the place, as if he knows he looked dashing and debonair in his formal attire that night. He rakes his hands through his slicked-back hair, his dark coat a snug fit for his broad shoulders, his slacks hanging from his hips in a way that makes Riza feel guilty just by looking at it.
Now she understands all the fuss about him. He certainly knows how to carry himself.
Roy catches Riza’s gaze, and she snaps her attention to her glass, now filled to the brim. Her face must have looked flushed. She blames the alcohol.
“Is this seat taken?” he asks, his voice almost sounding like flowing honey, if that made any sense.
She turns to face him, and finds dark eyes gazing back at her pensively, making it difficult to pull herself back to reality the more she looks into them. Lucky for her, she knows exactly how to deal with men like him.
“No, not at all,” Riza tells him nonchalantly as she takes a sip from her whiskey.
She can feel his eyes burning into her, and from peripheral vision, she watches his mouth curl into a sly smile. Dark eyes, dark-haired… she admits he was not unattractive.
So this was the Roy Mustang.
He asks the bartender for a glass and props himself onto the chair beside her, close enough that she can feel his heat.
“Have we met before?” He cocks his head to one side, rubbing his chin with his long index finger and thumb in a rather distracting manner. But two can play at that game.
“I’m afraid not.” Riza shrugs, pressing her chest together. Yet she finds herself getting disappointed when she sees no visible reaction from him. Truly a professional.
“But you look so familiar,” he ponders, clearly amused.
Her body tenses. Where did he possibly see her? If he, too, was a veteran, does he recognize her from Ishval? She bites her lip. Either way, she knows she mustn’t blow her cover. Perhaps he’s just pulling the oldest trick in the book. Classic, but tragic.
Riza decides she’d retort with a mocking statement. “In your wildest dreams, I suppose?”
He laughs, a very hearty chuckle, one that reverberates through her bones. “You’ve probably met me in one of yours as well, given you’ve been eyeing me since the event started.”
Riza can sense the other girls glaring at her, and she tries her best to pay them no mind. She smiles sweetly at him. “Don’t flatter yourself. Why would I busy myself in watching you when all you’ve ever done is talk to women?”
He chuckles once more. “So you have been eyeing me.”
The corners of her mouth twitched. “Only because I find the event quite dull.”
“So you find me interesting?”
“I find the rumors about you interesting.”
“About my charm?”
“About your womanizing antics.”
“Which includes?”
“Flirting with several women on one occasion.”
“And just how many women have I flirted with tonight?”
“Around 27.”
“28,” He corrected, dragging his seat near hers. “Unless you don’t consider yourself as a woman.”
Riza takes another sip from her whiskey, a ghost of a smile curling her lips. “Well, then, I shall take my leave and end this conversation. I wouldn’t want to stand corrected.”
“Ah, a woman of pride. If that’s the case, perhaps I’m the one mistaken.” He smirks. “You don’t seem to be like other women.”
Riza scoffs. “I think I’ve heard that line before.”
“In your wildest dreams?” He arches his brow, smiling as if he’s privy to some secret.
How menacing. It’s a shame he had no idea just how unpleasant her dreams actually were. “Nice try.”
“I’d say the same to you.”
Riza rolls her eyes. At times like these, she would usually shrug off her disgust and focus on the mission. But sitting beside her is a polished, articulate man who certainly knows his way with other people, especially with women. Riza knows she isn’t half as bad as him, given all her experience in handling clients like him and in missions like these. But there is definitely something in the way he looks at her that makes her want to pour all her attention to him, and only him. At this rate, she knows she is treading through a tightrope, with tension simmering deep down her core.
She crosses her legs, itching to stand up and run away from this man before all hell within her breaks loose. In a fraction of a second, she sees him glance down at her, his face bearing an unreadable expression.
Her eyes drop to where he is looking at— and she feels her heart leap. Her thigh holster is exposed.
Roy quickly averts his gaze, straightens his back, and empties his glass, suddenly prim and proper.
She bites her tongue. No normal woman will ever bring a gun at an event, more so wear a thigh holster. This will hamper her mission if he finds out who she truly is and what she is doing. She knew she shouldn’t have let Rebecca choose a dress with a high slit.
“It’s for self-defense,” Riza spoke coolly. “In case you were wondering.”
“Self-defense?” He shifts in his seat, seeming intrigued, trying his best to keep his eyes on her face.
She blinks. He seemed… interested.
Riza lifts her leg higher, showing more skin. “Yes, self-defense. From men like you.”
“Men like me?”
“Men. Like. You,” says Riza as she pointed her finger at his chest, his neck, his nose. Now she feels grateful for Rebecca’s fashion sense.
A smirk spreads across his lips, and she reminds herself to stop staring at his mouth. He leans forward, close enough that she can feel the blow of his breathing. He smells clean and fresh, almost heavenly, with a hint of expensive white wine. “Would you care to elaborate?”
“Well, I dare not speak since I barely know you.” Riza inches closer. “But it wouldn’t hurt to find out more about you, would it?”
He holds her gaze, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “Surely a woman who knows how to handle guns wouldn’t have any trouble handling any man.”
Her lips curl into a smile, her toes grazing against his shin. “Is there any difference?”
His fingers brush the sensitive skin behind her ear. “I believe I’m more interested in your answer.”
She lets out a small breath to steady her breathing, her heart racing. This is her chance, her opening, her queen’s gambit in this game against Roy Mustang. “Would you like to go somewhere a little more… exclusive?”
His breath is hot against her ear. “Meet me in the hotel lobby in five minutes.”
With that, he stands up, his fragrance in the air as he passes by her. The rest of the girls at the bar are gawking at her, but she is trying her best to keep herself from smiling.
Riza emerges from the ballroom and finds Roy leaning against the marble wall, eyes on his phone and a hand on his pocket. When he looks up at her, his lips stretches into a sly smile— like a model from a high-end magazine.
“Are you sure of this?” He queries.
Riza raises a brow. “You’re asking me now?”
He chuckles and brushes his hand on hers, his cue to follow him. “Let’s go.”
The doors to the elevator slide open, and Roy holds out his hand for her to go in first. “After you, Ma’am.”
She gives him a polite smile in return. A gentleman. She respected that.
When the door closes, she realizes they were alone, and she suddenly feels a gush of electric static coursing through her body. She didn’t know what she’d expect that night, or what he would expect that night. Regardless, she knows she has to take control of the situation. The only reason why she’s there was to accomplish this mission. But the way her blood boils with anticipation tells her otherwise.
Riza pounces on him the moment he locks the door to his suite, pinning him against the hardwood using her hips.
“Feisty, aren’t you?” He rasps as she gives him a trail of open-mouthed kisses along his sharp jawline.
“Do you not like it?” Riza asks, lips hovering over his neck.
“As long as it pleases you.” His hand grabs her upstyle hair and yanks down her hair clip, freeing her strands into a disheveled mess. His other hand grabs her chin. “May I kiss you?”
Riza tugs on his necktie and his mouth is on hers, giving him her answer. He tastes bittersweet with traces of expensive alcohol, and she forces her tongue between his lips, evoking a guttural groan from him. It sends chills down her spine, and for some inexplicable reason, it brings her satisfaction.
He pulls her closer by her waist, and suddenly she can feel his erection against her belly . Her skin is burning. Hell, he wants me.
Roy tightens his grip on her hair, coaxing her closer as he kisses her in return, hard and demanding. His tongue stroked hers as he expertly explored her mouth, and God , for a split-second, she wanted him to own her, to consume her the same way he greedily consumed all the oxygen in her body.
Sparring tongues with someone she barely knows does not exactly pique her interest, and if the circumstances were any different, she wouldn’t be here tangled up in the arms of a debonair man. Anyone who knows her must’ve thought she would never embark on an affair with a stranger she just met. But as long as it doesn’t involve sharing her feelings, as long as it was the most practical way of getting all the exclusive information she needed, she’s more than willing to oblige. For her, this is nothing more than a physical distraction, a tactical method to gain inaccessible information and somehow, somehow, acquire praise and reassurance that she’s doing something well, even for a moment that lasted an average of 44 minutes.
But the man she’s spending her night with right now is challenging the reason for her methods.
She breaks away from their kiss, breathless as her hands scrambled on his biceps for purchase.
“Sorry about that,” he croons, gazing at her with concern. “Did I come off as too strong?”
“We can do harder,” Riza says as she was panting, surprised that she managed to look at him squarely. “That is, if you can keep up with me.”
His eyes darken and a devilish smile marr his flawless face. “Just don’t tell me you wish you had run away later on.”
Riza rolls down the zipper between her breasts. “I think it’s a little bit too late for that.”
Without a second to waste, Roy hoists her up, spreading her legs around his hips. She gasps as she feels his erection between her thighs, making her wrap her arms around his shoulders as if she’s holding for her dear life.
He whispers to her ear. “I’ll let you know the bedroom’s vacant.”
Before she knows it, he holds her tightly, crushing her body against his as he carries her to the bedroom. His mouth is sucking hard on her neck, and she swears his kisses would leave purple bruises. But she can't seem to think straight, her brain too preoccupied as every nerve of her body was firing signals at the same time.
Riza gasps for more air as his mouth ceases from devouring her, his hands busy with opening the door to his bedroom.
She glances to her side, anything to distract her from her own arousal, and her eyes widen at the size of the mattress. It was king-size.
“It would be a shame if I spend the night alone.” He says as he propped her on his bed. His dark eyes were blazing, paralyzing her, and somehow it led her to wonder if he was a man made of flames. She wouldn’t mind getting burnt by him.
“You know the night waits for no one,” she taunts him.
He smirks. “Neither can I.”
Roy lunges forward, dominating her mouth as his hands slipped between her exposed chest. She gasps when she feels his cold, long fingers cupping her breasts, setting every inch of her body on fire.
“Sensitive, aren’t you?” His voice comes out low as he digs his face on her cleavage, his tongue sliding down the line between her breasts. Her heart is bouncing off her ribs, her blood pooling beneath her core as her muscles deliciously clenched within the deepest corners of her body.
Riza pulls him over to her side, now kneeling on top of him. His lips quirks up in a half-smile, and her body suddenly writhes as his hands slips beneath her bra, the cold pads of his fingers rolling the tip of her taut nipples, elongating them.
It was as if they were both competing for power. But she’s not going to let him take control.
She moves her hips, brushing herself against his erection. He leans back and groaned, almost animalistic, and an electric thrill thundered throughout her body.
“Sensitive, aren't you?” She mocks him.
His face bears a wicked grin. “Show me how you’ll handle me, then.”
She runs her fingers through his soft, unruly hair, and draws her lips to his ear. “With pleasure.”
Riza takes off his cloak, her mouth nibbling down his neck, and she hears his breathing quicken. Her hands slid up his torso, feeling the wall of muscle at his core, before she slowly unbuttons his white linen shirt, revealing his tightly-packed abdomen. Suddenly, his hand stops her before she takes his shirt off.
“I won’t allow you to take this off if you won’t remove yours.” Roy eyes her silk dress and she feels her face heating up.
Riza sighs. “Then I’ll start down below.”
He smirks. “Stubborn, aren’t you?”
Riza gathers her hair behind her, ignoring his comment, while her other hand brushes down to his crotch. She kneels at the foot of the bed, eyeing him as she unzips his sharp charcoal black slacks. No more guilt now.
Riza starts slow, planting soft kisses along his hip bone as her hands move along his waistband. She meets his gaze, eyeing him carefully, before pulling off his boxer briefs.
His breath hitches as his erection swung free, and she tries her best not to gawk at its length. She glances up at him, his dark eyes intense and burning with anticipation, and they widen as she flexes her fingers around his girth.
“So eager,” he lilts, eyes closing as she moves her hand up and down his shaft. He groans as she holds him firmly, so responsive at her touch, granting her a satisfying validation over her performance. Riza couldn’t believe she had so much control over a refined, domineering man like him.
Roy mutters a curse as she suddenly clamps her supple lips around him, her tongue leaving a long, slow stroke across the head of his impressive erection. She smiles as she begins to suck him in, the salt of his flesh like velvet on steel against her mouth.
His hands roughly grips her hair, and a moan escapes Riza’s lips. Somehow she felt afraid by the fact that it was real.
She pulls him deeper into her mouth, right to the back of her throat. She almost gagged, realizing her mouth couldn’t swallow the entirety of his length. Her legs quiver as envy crawls between her thighs, demanding to be filled, but all she can do to ease her trembling core is to press her legs together.
Damn it all, she wanted him too.
Distracting herself, her hand slides up and down his shaft, moving at the same rhythm as her mouth. He lets out a low growl in response, teeth clenched as he flexes his hips. Her tongue swirls around the end, eager to hear more of his sounds of praise, sucking him in and out faster the more his breath blew quicker and quicker.
Right before she tips him over the edge, she unsheaths him from her mouth, her breathing loud and heavy. Reality suddenly dawns on her— she’s there to gain information, and she needs it done asap. She bites her lip guiltily. She couldn’t believe she almost forgot.
Before Roy can speak, Riza pushes him onto the bed, his hard body suddenly poisonous to her skin. She props herself above his erection, eyes never leaving his. He looks so beautiful beneath her with nothing on but his shirt undone, a hint of a smile playing his perfect lips. Her heart skipped. This is dangerous. He is dangerous.
She watches his eyes flare with heat as she begins to pull out her dress, yet she flinches as the silk reaches her back, hesitant to expose the array marked on her skin.
Roy must have noticed the change in her expression when he gazes at her with concern, and Riza quickly takes off her dress, revealing her black laced, front-closure bra and matching underwear, her thigh holster still hugging her leg. She knows she needs to finish him off quickly if she wants to scout around his place.
“Stop.” Roy suddenly commands.
Riza blinked.
“I know what you are doing,” he tells her.
“Pardon?” Her heart is on her throat as her hand instinctively reaches for her gun.
He chuckles weakly, his arms supporting his body as he sits up. “You’re trying to impress me.”
Riza feels her lips part, and a small sigh escapes between them. She was relieved he hadn’t found out what she was planning, but whatever he said wasn't particularly wrong.
She laughs nervously. “Don’t get too cocky.”
His dark eyes turn serious. “I saw the way you looked at me.”
Riza feels as if she is shrinking as he draws his face closer to hers. She gulps. “Doesn’t everyone look at you the same way?”
“Not with the way your eyes glare at me.” His breath blows hot against her cheeks. “You seem so sure of yourself. So feisty, so stubborn, so driven with a hunger for a need I cannot quite fathom.”
She bites her lip. “How can you be so certain of that?”
“Well, you seem very determined to please me.” His lips grazes her neck, sending bolts of divine pleasure at the junction of her thighs. “But do you know what will really impress me?”
His weight suddenly forces her into the mattress, and the next thing she knew, he had both her arms above her head, her wrists tied down by his vice-like grip.
“Pleasing you.” His voice came out soft and low, gaze so intense she almost felt her skin was melting. “Watching someone as stubborn and prideful as you come apart under my command.”
His knees spread her legs further apart, and she shivers as the air kissed her lips down below. “If, and only if, you want me to.”
Riza watches her bare chest quickly rise and fall beneath him. He is so close to her, and although their bodies were barely touching, she feels her nipples hardening at the slightest graze of his flesh. This is not a good sign. She can choose to take him down with her hips, threaten him with her gun, interrogate him for whatever dirt he was hiding from the Amestrian government.
Instead, she asks, “What if I say no?”
He cocks his head, loosening his grip on her wrists. “Hm. I roll over to my side, help you up, guide you to the door. If you want, you could put your gun on my head on your way out.”
She looks at him, skeptical.
“Or you could choose to stay in this suite for the night while I drive myself home,” he simply says.
“But what if I say yes?”
His eyes burn into her, filled with a salacious need. “Then you’ll have me.”
Desire, thick and hot, pools low in her stomach, right between her hips. Even her mind gave no effort to fend off these sensations, whispering her to give in. She declares without a second thought, “Then take me.”
The corners of his mouth curls slightly upward. “Are you granting me your consent?”
Riza looks at him boldly. “Yes, Sir.”
Without a minute to waste, Roy ceases her mouth, his grip firm around her wrists. His other hand brushes down to her chest, and unhooks the clasps of her bra between her breasts. She moans into his mouth, instinctively spreading her legs to grant him more access. His growing erection is pressing roughly against her groin, with nothing but one layer of laced cloth between them. The friction of it all makes her bite her lips, holding back another moan.
Surely it wouldn’t hurt to gain actual pleasure from this mission, would it?
“Show me how you please yourself,” he orders, his mouth trailing down her neck.
“I’d never give you the pleasure.”
He chuckles. “Some other time then.”
Some other time?
Before she could react, his tongue languidly stroked her sensitive skin, lips sucking greedily against her collarbone.
“What would you like me to call you?” he asks in-between strokes.
She couldn’t think straight. “Riza.”
Crap. That wasn’t a made-up name.
“Riza,” he repeats, and admittedly, she likes the way her name sounded in his breathy voice. “Is that your pet name?”
“You talk too much,” she spat, her body high with his touch as she felt his lips spread into a smile, stretching her skin.
In truth, all she wanted was to hear more from him.
It wasn’t as if it was her full name , and only people closest to her called her that. But was Roy close to her? Her subconscious is banging the doors to her consciousness, to her mind, shaking her to her senses. She has never revealed her name to any of her missions until this one. Now it made her wonder if he asks other women the same question.
A sudden gasp is what came out of her mouth as his hand squeezed one of her breasts, his thumb rolling her nipples. His lips sharply closed around her other nipple, and a moan escaped her lips, feeling the sweet sensation crawl down her groin.
He begins pressing himself against her harder, and she groans as she feels his cock piercing through the cotton, right down there . She feels her body squirming in response to this alien, pleasurable experience, yet his hands keep her wrists steady. Her heart is pounding at the way he exerts control over her body as if he knows it better than her. As if reading her mind, his teeth and fingers pull hard on both her nipples, almost as if he’s yanking them off her body, and she lets out an uninhibited cry, convulsing and crumbling into a million pieces.
A scalding sheen of sweat covers her body, and she finds herself almost panting her lungs out. Every inch of her skin is burning, her blood singing as it coursed through her veins. And the look on Roy is giving her only makes her crave for more.
“All done for the night?” He teases her, releasing her wrists.
She smirks back. “I should ask you the same.”
“You already know the answer to that.”
She groans as he flicks his tongue on her taut nipple, before sucking on the skin below the curve of her breasts. His hands snake their way to the sides of her hips, cupping her softly, intimately, setting alight every single bundle of nerves her body possesses. It was as if his touch left flames behind its trail.
Roy slips a finger through the fine lace, slowly circling it around at the apex of her thighs. A menacing smile marrs his lips as Riza sharply pulls her head back, careful not to release any noise.
“I’d love to hear you moan,” he lilts.
She glares down at him. “Not a chance.”
“Then I wonder how long you’d hold it back.”
He thrusts a finger inside her, again and again in painstakingly slow pacing. Riza bites back her lips, her hands clenching tightly on the sheets of the king-size. She can feel her dampness sliding down her legs.
Roy slowly tugs her panties off, his head now between her thighs. His hand then holds her legs firmly apart, a finger pointing to her gun holster. “Shall I remove this?”
“Please,” she breathes without thinking.
He effortlessly unclasps it with one hand, and drops it on the floor. When his hand comes back, he suddenly spreads her legs further apart. She winces as she felt her muscles getting ripped apart, afraid to admit she wants him to stretch her open.
“You look so perfect,” he murmurs before slathering his tongue across her thighs, all the while dipping two fingers inside her.
Riza lets out another moan. Her legs are rigid beneath his touch, her face flushed as he pushes deeper and harder each time he leaves. She clenches her fists even tighter on the sheets, and she almost feels her nails digging into her palms. He’s kissing his way up her thighs, coarsely licking and sucking until he’s between her legs. Suddenly he gently blows up and down the length of her sex, and Riza can no longer hold back her moans. She feels like she’s about to combust .
“Don’t hold back,” he orders, and she can hear the wicked smile in his voice. “I love how you sound.”
Another moan escaped her lips, her body singing along his words of praise.
Roy slowly swirls his tongue on her clitoris, round and round and round, she groans. His fingers inside her mirrors the motion, and Riza lets out a sharp cry, tortured with the excruciating pleasure cast upon her. Every single fiber of her being concentrates on the little knob at the top of her thighs, unaware that her hips are mimicking the circling motion. Her breathing quickens, his rhythm hastened, and she feels like she is climbing right on top of the sensation. Right before she reaches the climax, he pulls out his hand, and her sex laments at its wake.
“Don’t move,” he commands, holding her legs firm. Then he chuckles. “And don’t look at me like that. You’ve also withheld me from pleasure earlier, so this is only a matter of equivalent exchange.”
Riza takes the moment to compose herself. “I’m not complaining.”
“Good.” Roy runs his hands through the locks of her hair, and for a brief moment, she closes her eyes, longing to get used to this.
Roy reaches over his bedside table and grabs a foil packet. Riza watches him roll a condom down his considerable length, until he catches her staring.
“Is this your first time?” asks Roy.
“Of course not,” she spat.
He chuckles once again.
What is it with this man?
Before she can react, he suddenly cages her down with both of his arms, his dark burning eyes never leaving hers.
“Pull your hands and knees up,” he commands, and without a second thought, she willingly obliges. She feels him align the head of his erection at her entrance, brushing it up and down her folds, now slick with her arousal. Her nails are digging into her palms so deep she thought she’d tear crescent-sized holes in the hotel sheets, her throbbing sex so eager to take him in.
But he doesn’t thrust himself inside just yet. “I’d love to hear you beg for me.”
“Why won’t you do it?” She spat. She can’t be the one to give in to him first.
“So stubborn.” Roy chuckles, slipping his hand down to where they both connected. “You only need to ask for it.”
Riza tightens her grip on the sheets above her. She knows she wants him, hell, she can feel her own dampness crawling down her inner thighs. She moves her hips in little circles instead, hoping it would make him move without her begging.
“I’ll take it as your best attempt,” he whispered coyly. “Now let me open you up.”
She cries out a longing moan as he slowly sheathes himself into her, tearing every fiber of her muscles apart. His hands move to her wrists above her head, holding her steady, eyes looking down at her with concern.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes,” she tells him, wincing as she slowly accommodated the entirety of his length, her sex ripped open as wide as his girth. Another moan escaped her lips as she felt his tip hit the wall right up her core, partly surprised by the feel of his scrotum barely sticking to her folds.
“You take me in so well,” he praises, his voice breathy. He stayed still, and Riza took the moment to adjust to the overwhelming sensation of him inside her.
“So tight.” Roy clenched his jaw, and she can feel another gush of wetness drenching her lips below.
“Move,” she whispers without thinking.
He chuckles softly. “That’s more like it.”
Roy unsheathes himself from her slowly, almost agonizing, only to slam himself back inside her in a rapid motion. She moans, clenching him tight each time he thrusts, and he let out a low growl, his voice raw into her ear.
“More,” she breathes, biting her lips the moment the words left her.
Finding his rhythm, he picks up his pace. Riza cries out as he begins to pound relentlessly on her, their pants and groans and thrusts echoing throughout the room. They’d probably wake the neighbors. But nothing stirs her mind except the feeling of being emptied and filled over and over again, finally feeling excitement and pleasure from this simple act.
She jerks her hips into him the moment he suddenly sucks on one of her breasts, biting down her nipples. He keeps her wrists still when she squirms, her mind welcoming every single sensation from her body, her blood boiling on fire. Her thoughts are scattering, focusing on the only thing that mattered at that moment: only him, only her, her heart racing as fast as his thrusts. Nothing else occupies her mind but the delicious, overwhelming sensation of his mouth greedily sucking on her nipples, his length was ripping her sex open, his hand circling his clitoris at just the right motion,
Then she feels it again, something building and pooling deep inside her, and the thrill of it all makes her feel as if she’s climbing toward the edge of a precipice. His thrusts, his groans, his every move is taking her greater heights, her moans an octave higher at each passing second.
Riza cries out as she finally reaches the climax, so loud it would have sent birds soaring into the skies. Her body spasms around him, exploding and crumbling into a million pieces. She writhes under him as he continues to pound rapidly into her, not slowing down.
Roy whispers her name when he thrust once more, so hard she almost saw stars at the back of her eyelids. Then he lets out a low guttural groan that bordered on animalistic, spilling himself inside her.
When he was spent, he collapsed on top of her, kissing her forehead as he did. A warm exhilarating feeling hugged her body, and Riza couldn’t help but close her eyes to savor the moment.
She felt him pull himself from her, rolling onto his side of the bed. Riza never knew she was so exhausted until her vision was blacking out as she watched him discard the prophylactic to the waste bin.
All she remembered next was washing up in the bathroom, putting on a clean bathrobe, and groggily slumping herself onto the king-sized bed. The soft sheets felt pleasant, the cool air felt pleasant— hell, every single cell in her body felt pleasant. Her thoughts were hazy, mind swimming with oxytocin, too tired to think of anything else. Before she knew it, she’d let her consciousness drift away into sleep.
It had been years since she’d slept so well that nothing else awoke her but a constant, buzzing noise that nagged her to finally get up.
When her eyes open once more, sunlight greets her with a warm good morning. She nearly mumbles those words, stretching her arms and legs wide, when she realizes where the heck she is.
Riza sits up as she suddenly remembers all the things she did. And all the things she didn’t.
Crap.
She shuffles the sheets and realizes she’s all alone in the bed, in the room, in the entire suite. She sighs. Mr. Mustang has departed from the building.
Since when had he left? A few hours ago? The minute she fell asleep? She honestly didn’t know.
But why she did know was she hadn’t found out anything about him, except the way he moved last night. His dark eyes, his perfect lips, his toned muscles, his… she hated how her face heated up even though she didn't want it to.
Then another thought crossed her mind.
Riza immediately checks beneath the sheets, relieved to find her body still wrapped in a bathrobe. Thank god she hadn’t exposed her back to him.
She jolts in her seat when she hears a buzzing noise again. That annoying pandemonium was the culprit for waking her up. She instinctively glances at her phone on the bedside table, only to find it wasn’t ringing.
Realization dawns on her, and her heart skipped a beat. Mr. Mustang must have left his phone. This was her chance to finally get something out from him.
With panic thundering her veins, she searches for the source of the noise— she has to find it before it falls silent. Riza slips herself from the king-size and pulls out its sheets, until his phone drops on the floor. As she picks it up, her eyes widen the moment she sees the time.
10:30 AM
Did she sleep that long? Or, perhaps, it was more accurate to say she was up the entire night.
The phone suddenly buzzes again, and her hands fumbles to decline the call. She frowns when she saw all his notifications.
41 missed calls.
33 messages.
Riza assumes those were all the women he was ignoring until she notices they were all from one sender. Suddenly, the phone chimes with a small ding! and a new message pops up on the screen.
Her heart drops at the sight of her name.
Mustang Law (Office)
Riza, should you find this message, kindly return my calls.
— Roy M.
Riza slumps herself onto the bed, aghast.
What has she gotten herself into?