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'Elizabeth' made a phone call - from a pay phone, as painful as the reminder of Hughes' death was - to the Colonel mid-morning. Her hand had trembled on the receiver as she dialed the military operator, and asked for his extension. Riza was still grateful her voice hadn’t been recognized.
Please, Roy, I need a hand moving a bookcase. Do you have some time this evening?
‘Needing a hand’ was her code for him that she… needed. They’d spent many stolen nights together outside of work, before Bradley took her hostage, but most of those nights had been romantic. Sweet. Endearing. Like something out of a dream.
Sometimes she needed him to fuck her so hard she couldn’t walk straight for two days. Especially when their goal seemed impossible and out of reach, and she needed to simply be a woman for a little while, and find a reality - a purpose - beyond their ambitions.
This bar was the safest place for them to succumb to the want that silently followed them everywhere. Especially now. Their poor excuses of shadows wouldn’t even make it past the foyer, though Riza did everything she knew to avoid them knowing where exactly she had disappeared in the seedy part of Central.
Madame Christmas instantly noticed the strained, desperate set to ‘Elizabeth’s’ face and quickly ushered Riza upstairs to the little-used room hidden behind a closet on the second floor. It contained a bed barely big enough for two, a side table with a single burning lamp, a fireplace, and no windows. A desk sat against the wall opposite the door.
Roy would be there soon.
It was the one place Riza felt comfortable enough – safe enough – to wait alone with her back to the door. She leaned against the desk, its edge biting at her thighs, and the wood smooth beneath her flattened palms. A soft rug cushioned her feet. Her hair was still bound up from the office.
She was naked.
Quiet, heavy footsteps signaled Roy’s arrival.
“So you need a hand?” His voice was warm and low and sank into the pit of her stomach as the door clicked shut, followed by the quiet snick of the lock.
“Yes, sir,” Riza whispered. Her voice wouldn’t come out any louder. Her entire body thrummed as the draft from the door's movement finally reached her. Gooseflesh covered her legs and arms. Her cunt pulsed.
Riza would swear there were invisible cords of tension and electricity – pure heat – binding them together, even as Roy moved around behind her. The bed creaked softly, followed by the sound of rustling fabric. Riza sucked in a deep breath and held it, bracing herself against the urge to look back and watch him disrobe.
The rules were simple: whenever she asked, she was to wait here just like this. Naked. Hair up. Back to the door. Standing straight, with her palms pressed to the top of the desk. She wasn’t to look at Roy when he came in. Not until he said. She wasn’t to touch him, or especially herself, until commanded. If commanded.
She had asked for this, needed this. She would not be so desperate as to break the rules. Not when time together like this was so rare.
And if she could just hang on a few more minutes, he would shatter her with just his touch and rebuild her in his arms. A wave of dizziness washed over her. She was still holding her breath. It escaped her in a whimper.
Warm, wet air curled over the back of her neck. She gasped.
Her nerves willingly provided the illusion of that same warmth curling down her spine, around her ribs, and over her hips. But it fell short of the throbbing between her legs.
Her breath caught in a sob. Roy’s lips brushed against the stubborn wisps of hair along her nape.
“Shh, Elizabeth.” His lips vibrated against her skin as he spoke. He always used her codename here. They could never be too cautious. “I’m here now.”
Was it possible to be wound as tight as a piano string, and still melt like ice?
“Is your footing secure?” he asked. His fingertips stroked down the curve of her spine and pressed hot circles into the skin over the swell of her ass.
“Yes, sir.” The pure need in her voice both shamed and thrilled her.
“Spread your legs.”
His hands settled on her hips, steadying her as she shifted one foot at a time. Her hands stayed firmly pressed to the desk. As she widened her stance, cool air rushing against her wet heat, her ass brushed against Roy’s erection. He groaned.
If he kept teasing her like this, her heart would pound its way out of her chest to flop and pulse helplessly in front of them on the desk.
His fingers dug into her hips before his right hand wandered up her waist, pausing to tickle her ribs, and then cupped her breast. Her flesh rested heavily in his palm, and for one excruciating moment he did absolutely nothing.
Then he twisted her nipple, she shuddered, and he took a step forward to press his body against her back. His cock nestled perfectly between her buttocks. His left hand moved away from her hip, and with his right hand he pinched her nipple – hard.
“Ah!” Pleasure radiated through her entire torso, and a tinge of the pain echoed in her clit. Her mouth fell open, and his left hand was there, two fingers running over her lips and teeth, then pressed against her tongue.
“Suck,” he ordered.
Riza obeyed, but wished it was his cock in her mouth instead of his fingers. He continued to pinch and twist her nipples with his other hand, and soon she was wound up enough that she couldn’t get her mouth to properly suction around his fingers. He pulled them out, and a string of saliva popped wetly on her lips.
“Lean back on me,” Roy whispered, and she gladly sank against the heat of his body. With her legs spread, she was short enough that her head nestled just beneath his chin. He shifted so his thighs pressed along hers, his knees pressed just above her own against the inside of her legs.
His right hand slid down from her breast, thumb brushing over her sternum, and his fingers splayed across her stomach. His little finger lightly teased the rim of her navel before he covered her belly with his palm, pulling her body fully against his. The head of his erection bounced lightly against the small of her back, hot, sticky pre-cum dotting on her skin.
Her entire body thrummed as he played her.
The fingers he'd wetted in her mouth caressed the heated flesh between her thighs. He didn’t touch her clit a single time, but tugged and twisted at her folds before just barely sweeping inside her. Her fingers twitched against the desk as warmth swelled heavily through her hips and belly.
A drop of sweat trickled down her neck, and his lips caught it before moving up to wrap around her earlobe, tugging at her earring with his teeth. His lips curved in a smile against her ear as she shivered.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered, and when she did, she understood.
Despite her reputation as the Hawk’s Eyes, it was too easy for her to forget how much she actually saw, even when she wasn’t trying to. Even when she was staring at a blank, wooden wall. But now, without that sense, she was suddenly consumed by him and him alone.
If she thought desire was driving her mad before, she hadn't known what desire truly was.
Desire was Roy’s hands soothing and caressing her flesh, teasing and reverent as they sent molten lust coursing through her.
It was sweat sliding down her neck and spine, mixing with the pre-cum smeared across her ass as her hips set a rhythm of their own against his fingers.
Desire was his voice, low and sensuous in her ear, murmuring his deepest, darkest fantasies to her, because after all these years of them, they knew, ultimately, their most dangerous fantasy was each other.
She craved his voice more than anything else.
Not the brusque, professional voice he used at the office – though she’d indulged her own desires about that before – but this intimate, naked want he unmasked only for her in these stolen moments.
It was his voice that finally pushed her over the edge, and she trembled silently against his chest. Three of his fingers were buried inside her, but he stopped moving them as soon she came.
She collapsed in his arms. He pinched and pulled at her swollen, sensitive clit - at last - and she was shoved into white oblivion once more, and somewhere in the distance she heard keening. Very briefly, everything faded away.
When she was aware again, she recognized the feel of the desk beneath her cheek, though her eyes stayed closed. Her hands had shifted position, but even in these encounters, Roy never chastised her for failing to stay in place after an orgasm that powerful.
His hands moved to stroke her ass, and she couldn’t help the way her knees weakened when he brushed a kiss at that spot on her spine where the skin dimpled before smoothing into the soft flesh of her buttocks.
“How are you feeling, Elizabeth?”
“Better, sir.” Her voice was still infused with need, though. They could stop here, yes, and she would feel it in the morning, but while they had the opportunity, she wanted to be thoroughly fucked. Who knew when they would have this chance again, especially while she was under Bradley’s thumb?
“You can move your arms if you need to,” Roy said.
She hadn’t noticed her hands falling numb until he said that, and with a groan she brought them up and crossed them, leaning her head against her forearms. Her aching nipples brushed against the cool surface of the desk at the same moment when she felt Roy’s teeth sink into her ass.
“Ah!”
He chuckled before laving the spot with his tongue. “Tell me what you need, Elizabeth.”
You, she thought silently. I only ever need you.
“Please fuck me, sir,” she whispered, resisting the urge to push her hips back against his. He wouldn’t leave her begging and unfulfilled. She knew that.
She hoped she would always be able to trust him like this.
His hands paused at her waist as he brought himself upright, and his voice trembled when he answered. “Do you need me to fuck you like this?”
“This, sir?”
“Face down on the desk.”
She moaned. The thought made her ignite – though it was him that kept the slow burn always kindled inside her – but she could hear something deeper in his question, something underlying that he didn’t quite want to say.
“You can fuck me however you need to, sir,” she replied. “Please fuck me however you need to.”
His fingers wandered up from her waist, over her back, and she shuddered when he began to trace the edges of her scars.
Ah.
Some days, the tattoo and accompanying scars barely bothered him. But she understood why they did right now, when they were both stranded from each other for days - weeks - on end. They were each other’s emotional anchors, and they were separated.
His hands moved up to her shoulders, pulled her up to stand and lean against his chest. Her eyes opened as he buried his face in the curve of her neck. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I must be useless to you right now.”
Useless. His code word, but the one that said his heart wasn’t in this type of play right now, but he would keep going if she wanted him to. Only if she kept calling him sir.
Hopefully she could make a concession for both of them.
“No, sir.” She reached up to twine the fingers of her left hand with his. “You could never be useless to me.”
“Elizabeth-” his voice broke.
She turned around in his arms, and met his eyes. He looked so broken. “Sir!” She reached up to weave her fingers into his hair.
“I’m yours,” she whispered. “Only yours. Only ever yours. Even if we’re forced to be apart for now, if we have to pretend in public that we barely know each other. You’ve had my heart, my body, since I understood what these feelings inside me meant. These circumstances don’t – can’t – change that.”
He took a deep breath, his chest brushing against hers. She tightened her fingers in his hair. His face rested alongside hers, lips brushing over the top of her ear. He sighed.
She shivered in his embrace, and whispered, “Now, will you please fuck me, sir?”
He pressed one more kiss to her ear, then pulled back just far enough so she could see his face.
“Did I say you could open your eyes, Elizabeth?” The confidence had returned to his voice, and she felt it all the way into her toes. She closed her eyes.
“No, sir, I’m sor-”
Roy covered her mouth with his, and she whimpered as he stroked and coaxed and teased, searing heat against her tongue. When her knees gave way, she was grateful for the desk behind her.
His hands twisted into the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her head back – just enough to be slightly unbalancing – and he pulled at her bottom lip with his teeth. On occasion, he would bite her hard enough to draw blood, but she knew that wouldn’t happen tonight, as much as she longed for the sting of pain.
Pleasure was euphoric, something she'd only ever experienced in dreams. Pain meant things were real.
Riza clutched the edge of the desk. His tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth, and she relaxed her jaw as much as she could. She loved the feel of his tongue pressing almost all the way back into her throat, and as he pulled away he sucked her tongue between his teeth, scraping over the muscle before their lips parted with a wet pop.
His fingernails dug into the skin of her neck. His other hand traced the line of her jaw before spanning her throat, and her eyelids fluttered, barely staying closed, as his fingers briefly tightened around her neck. Not anywhere near constricting, but enough to make her stomach flip, and then he released his grip to brush down her breastbone - could he feel the pounding of her heart? - and over her stomach, before twisting through the coarse hair between her legs.
“Prop yourself up on the desk,” he whispered.
Once Riza was situated, he stood between her spread thighs. Her face was hot, and though his touched had stayed light and gentle as she positioned herself, his thumb now moved to press against her clit, and she shivered.
"Hook your knees over my hips," he said, weaving his left hand into her hair and gently combing down the length of it before coming to rest at the back of her waist. He pulled his thumb away from her clit and ran his fingers through her golden curls as she wrapped her legs around him.
"Open your eyes." His erection nudged against her heat, and he - barely - pressed the head inside her.
Their eyes met, and she whimpered at the lust in his. His gaze was so dark, so intense, and the need to drown in him overwhelmed her.
But he didn't move. Why didn't he move?
Another shiver traced up her spine, and her back arched to follow it. She saw his gaze drop down the column of her throat, linger at the dip between her collarbones, and then latch on to her breasts as they were pushed farther out in front of her.
"Lean back on your elbows," he whispered hoarsely.
He slipped just a bit more inside her as she obeyed, and a ragged gasp escaped from her lips. Her fingers curled over the edge of the desk as she supported her weight with her forearms. It took everything in her not to swing her hips forward and impale herself on his cock.
A whimper floated through the air. Was it hers? Roy's lips curled up, so it must have been. He still didn't move, at least not his hips. What he did, however, was bend down, swirl his tongue in the hollow of her throat, and then he latched onto her breast.
He suckled gently, at first, lips caressing her nipple with gentle tugs. Then he laved it with his tongue, twisting around her areola before flicking the tip gently.
"Please, sir!" The words left her in a gasp. "Please..."
She needed him to move, damn it!
All he did was close his mouth around her breast again, but this time he grazed his teeth over her nipple. She felt his tongue stroking, coaxing more of her breast into his mouth, and finally he sucked.
And fuck, she felt it in her clit - and he thumbed at that, too - and her cunt throbbed again, and she could barely process the sight of him bent over her, his hair falling into his eyes, as he nursed at her breast.
Her arms trembled, threatening to give way. His left arm slid lower down her back, cradling just above her hips, and she felt his fingers press into her hipbone.
"Please, sir," she begged now, "Please fuck me, please, I need you inside me, and I- ah!"
Finally. So exquisitely slow, but finally.
She sobbed. "Thank you."
Riza felt her body ripple around him as he moved, an inch at a time, until their hips were pressed as tightly together as possible. Her head fell back, a tear dropping from the corner of her eye to land on her shoulder.
With a gasp, Roy pulled away from her breast.
"Elizabeth..." He moaned as he pulled almost all the way back out of her before thrusting forward again.
She forced her gaze back to his, and barely held in another cry. She wanted this to last forever: the smooth slide of his body into hers, the bite of pain on her breast from his teeth, the ache in her elbows and hips from the desk, everything that told her they were here, together - alive.
So alive, with her legs trembling, his breath hot against her chest, and the torrent of aching need inside her. Every muscle, every nerve, was alight from his touch, and it coiled, twisting and writhing, in her belly and through her thighs.
He bit her collarbone, and her entire body clenched, and then his mouth was at her ear.
"I love you, Elizabeth," he whispered. "Now come."
She shattered, her vision blacking out as her body sparked, and she was grateful for his arm under her back as her own finally gave way.
Leaving afterward was always the hardest part. When Riza finally felt strong enough to stand again without her knees giving way, Roy was already dressed. She shivered on the bed beneath the light blanket he'd covered her with.
"Vanessa will come up soon with your tea," he said, sitting down beside her.
"Yes, sir."
They still couldn't drop their guard. Just in case.
"Elizabeth."
She looked up at Roy.
"Be safe." Not just going home, she understood, but around Bradley.
She didn't understand the tears suddenly pricking at her eyes, though. It wasn't as if this was the first time they'd parted like this.
"You too, sir."
"I will."