Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to Volition, please don't sue, I'm broke anyway.
Author's Note: I use the Laura Bailey, AKA Female Voice 1, for Fray just so y'all know. Also, I made an 8Tracks playlist for this chapter (and probably will for the next two), which is linked on my profile.
1. The Boss
As a whole, Fray finds Matt unlikable. He's petty, moody, and childish. What should she expect though? He's only twenty-two.
It blows her mind—not a lot, but some—when she discovers she's thinking of fucking him.
It's not as if she hasn't had younger men and it's certainly not like she's old. (Hello, they're only nine years apart!) But the guys she usually takes to bed usually don't whine at her about grabbing enough data clusters at the end of a grueling day in a simulation. Or treat her like a moron. And they especially don't walk away with their jawbone unbroken after treating her like a moron.
Space, she eventually reasons when they start fumbling on the ratty couch in the cargo bay, is just fucking her head irreparably.
It gets kind of hard to blame space when Matt makes her come twice in a row with his fingers, though. Even more so when he demonstrates that his lips and tongue are magic—even if his lipstick leaves a lot to be desired. These things she doesn't expect—that she shouldn't expect—are warning bells and the all-knowing gut, the thing that has kept her alive at her lowest, that's gotten her out of the way of bullets, that she's always regretted not heeding whenever she fucks up and ignores it, says Fray is teetering on something so very dangerous right now.
But Fray kisses Matt once they're spent anyway and then lets herself fall asleep with him still inside of her.
2. Matt
She has no right to kiss like she does, Matt thinks. So sweet and warm. Her tongue vaguely tastes like lemon drops, tart with just a hint of honey. How in the bloody hell Fray can manage that when there isn't even any sugar on the ship, he'll never know, but the moment he tastes it, Matt knows it's going to be an addiction.
He's always thought that Fray was attractive. To be honest, there are very few women he does not think are attractive, same for men, but for years he's kept thoughts of shagging her locked up tight. She's too volatile, too pigheaded, too…Fray. Going up to Kinzie and pinching her arse is a better idea when compared to sleeping with the Boss.
But he just can't say no when she propositions him. He wants to taste the warm olive of her skin and discover the tang of her sweat. He wants to see how far the faint dusting of freckles (you can't even see them unless you look closely) goes down. Matt's imagined that they pepper the swell of her breasts and even her belly and thighs; he's half convinced he could die happy if he found out the answer.
Uncovering those questions is heaven and that alone should terrify Matt. She kisses him, though, post-orgasm, as he softens inside her, and he can't care less about how crazy this might be. The natural, sweet poison that lives on Fray's tongue paralyzes him and Matt closes his eyes, deciding to be content with that, for the time being.
3. The Boss
She tells herself, after waking up awkward and sticky with Matt wrapped around her, that she's done with him. Not that he wasn't a good lay, quite the contrary, but sex can get complicated if you're not careful. Complicated isn't a thing that Fray can handle right now on top of everything else so she's done with Matt. Simple as that.
And then for whatever reason two days later she finds herself in the cargo bay again wondering what Matt's cock tastes like and enough spare time on her hands to find out. Surprisingly, Matt yields to her second round of advances, readily too.
The cutest sounds come out of him when Fray starts. He's like a puppy getting his tummy rubbed, which, actually she does do sometimes as part of foreplay. The self-styled "Cyber God" is a sensitive little fella.
Which, actually, he's not that "little", if she's being honest, and lying about his dick is a hard thing to do when she's got her lips wrapped around it. Matt's not packing a horse-cock or anything, but he's definitely got more going on than the skinny jeans would ever tell; the fun side of being grower-not-a-shower is the surprise waiting on your partner. From time to time, Fray is a big fan of surprises, especially when orgasms are involved.
She can make his eyes roll back in his skull just by pressing her tongue to the juncture between glans and shaft. Matt shakes like he has a neurological disorder when Fray drags her teeth along the inside of his thigh and vibrates when she laps pre-come from the slit of his cock. He chokes and whimpers when she deepthroats him then screams when she denies his orgasm.
"Fucking—Why?!" he strains to keep his hips still, Fray can tell by the way the muscles in his thighs twitch. His fingers are curled into the sofa cushions to the point he'll probably tear the wants so much to grab the back of her head and thrust, it's killing him. And yet even as Fray stares up at him, feigning innocence, tracing veins with the tip of her tongue, he never makes a move to do that.
Half of her just wants to crack that willpower like an egg, wants to see what happens when his control has been ground into nothing. She's not particularly worried, she could take Matt out in a heartbeat, but she still finds the thought of him trying to hold her down and fuck her face…exciting.
Fray is weird though, and she knows it. And because Matt's being so very good and she's so very ready to have his hand down her suit, she doesn't push. Today she doesn't push.
Matt sobs as Fray releases the base of his shaft and pulls him in as far as he'll go. With her hands sliding to his backside (Matt has a sadly flat ass, her one real complaint about his physique), she encourages him to thrust. He moves slow at first, disbelief clear on his face, but he gets over the shock quick enough coming just a few seconds later with both hands tangled in her hair.
She licks him clean because while today she isn't pushing, the way he raked her scalp says that she'll definitely try later.
4. Matt
Matt hasn't been a virgin for quite some time, contrary to Fray's impression of him. He never had slews of pretty girls dangling off his arms, though once Kiki did dangle him by his arm out a window. The point being is that he understands the mechanics of sex, very well in fact. Islay, his first girlfriend, had been something of a taskmaster when it came to him learning how to make her happy. Her "lessons" had been the one really good thing about their relationship. Now Matt's having fun trying out all of the things she taught him on a woman he's tried to kill and vice versa.
In his head, it doesn't sound so righteously buggered.
Still, even if he's bedding a psychopath, Matt at least knows that his hard work is appreciated. After a week they've gone at it enough that he's categorized each type of post-coitus mood she goes through and he can use sex to get his preferred Fray. A handy thing, truly.
Fray after a quick fingering, like say, in a closet, doesn't change much, but she lets him hold her a bit and never fails to reciprocate Matt's efforts with gusto. Full-quickie Fray smiles contentedly for an hour afterward and preforms very well in the simulation. If they have time to do a regular, relaxed run, she'll be smooth and mellow like cream all day. After a round of rough sex, Fray is gentle, especially if she's the one who did the handcuffing.
Matt's very favorite Fray, however, comes along after she's had a multiple orgasm with his tongue wrapped around her clit. She dissolves into a boneless heap that while not so keen on any acrobatic reciprocating moves—and damn does she have a ton of those—is, for lack of a better term, sweet.
And giggly too, he's discovering as he slides himself back up to eye-level with her after prying her twitching thighs from around his head. Matt has to work on his grip; he's seen what those legs can do wrapped around someone's neck and he does not want to be a victim of friendly fire as it were, no matter how fucking good she tastes.
Fray, while trembling and breathless seems to note this to and reaches a shaky hand out to run through his hair. She can't pull him into a kiss, she's too weak and uncoordinated from what he just did, but Matt takes the hint and meets her lips.
That's another thing he greatly appreciates about Fray, she'll kiss him no matter where his mouth has been. It's a trait that's very rare in a partner and one that he shares.
"Holy fuck, you are good at that." She pants against his lips after a brief kiss. The way that her chest heaves post-coitus Matt wonders how close she is to blacking out and he's mindful of it.
"I know." It's not arrogant if it's true. Well, it is but he's earned it.
She giggles, continuing to pepper his jaw and the underside of his chin with open-mouthed kisses. The sound does something to Matt, something strange and scary that makes him forget how hard he still is and only wish to hear more of it.
It's also terribly distracting. Matt closes his eyes and buries his face in the hollow of Fray's shoulder for one second and the next she's got him rolled onto his back, grinning. Apparently, she's not out of acrobatic moves just yet. Or surprises.
"Bloody hell, you're good at that."
She laughs again and Matt shivers. "I know."
5. The Boss
Somewhere between her kicking his ass and sheltering in MI6, Matt had filled out. He'd never be buff or able to take her on (not with fists, anyway) but he wasn't so much of a stick anymore. She likes it though, likes the lightness of his frame as it hovers over her own whenever she permits him to take top. His hands too, are an unexpected surprise. They're soft, cool, feminine; they cup her breasts and splay over her sex reverently.
Weirdly enough, her favorite part of Matt's body is his stomach. He doesn't have a six-pack or anything, but it's firm and framed by the sharp "V" of his hipbones with a perfect happy trail that Fray suspects him of manicuring like a lawn when he's alone.
Plus he's super ticklish so there's no shortage of fun to be had.
"Why're you cringing?" she asks as if she doesn't know the answer. From her vantage half off of the couch, with her head tucked just under his so tha her teeth skim his collarbone, Fray's breasts are pressed into Matt's belly. Super-pebbly nipples plus a hypersensitive computer geek equals an impressive sort of sexual frustration.
"M'not cringing." His voice comes at a high, unstable pitch; he's trying so hard not to laugh.
Fray pulls back just enough so that her nipples barely graze his flesh as she slides upward. Matt, as expected shudders and chokes just a little.
"Aww, Matty, we can stop if you're not comfortable…" She kisses his chin then slides right back down even slower this time, adding teeth and tongue to her work as she goes.
Matt whines low in his throat, fingers curling in the hair at the nape of her neck. "You're the Devil—Ahah!—" She nips his belly button and his whole body jerks. He glares down her, pink faced, sweating, and trembling. He pouts so pretty when he says, "Don't call me 'Matty' dammit."
Pressing her lips to the spot she just assaulted, Fray does her best to look like the very picture of contrition. It's a piss poor attempt given it's, well, her, but Matt seems to expect this.
He probably expects her to rake her nails just above his hipbones as she does next, too, but he appears to have given up giggling then moaning. Fray rewards his submission by only torturing him a little more before moving onto a blowjob.
6. Matt
As far as backsides go, Fray might just have the most perfect arse that Matt has ever seen. Or touched. Or…done other naughty things to. Her breasts are nice too; they're not particularly big but they are perky and topped with tiny copper nipples so sensitive that they pucker at the slightest brush. He's never been attracted to muscles before—Fray's no body builder but she is very lithe with strong definition in her shoulders, abdomen, arms, and thighs. Matt's attracted to her muscles, though, adores the feeling of all that power coiled beneath or on top of him. It's Fray's back, however, that really fascinates Matt.
Lying naked on her stomach, Fray dozes after they've gone at it leaving Matt a few hours to admire her form while he works. Between decoding, recoding, and all of the other million things Kenzie and he need to do, he traces the curve of her spine over and over again. From the strong shoulders to the perfect valley right before the swell of her bottom, Fray is a lush landscape to behold.
He gets about an hour and a half of real work done in the three he spends watching her snoring figure before putting his laptop aside.
"Hmm?" is Fray's drowsy response when Matt touches her shoulder, signaling he's about to be in her personal space. First thing that a man learns about fucking a gang leader turned chief executive: surprise contact can get you tossed across the room. Luckily, Matt learns well and fast.
He hovers above her for a few seconds, appreciating the faint splash of freckles on her tailbone before dipping down and pressing his lips to the space. Fray stretches, making a noise he might just call a purr.
Swiping her hair back from her face (Matt's never quite been able to tell if it was black or brown, it depends on the light) she gazes at him over her shoulder. Her eyes are hooded, lazy but intrigued. "Watcha doin'?"
Matt doesn't answer, not right away. Instead, he takes his time moving his mouth up her backbone inch by inch, enjoying the flutter of muscle he feels beneath and the way that Fray hisses when he adds a random bite to the journey. By the time that he's reached the nape of her neck, he's molded his body to Fray's, pressing his stomach and chest into her as if he's trying to slip under her skin.
For a few moments, Matt doesn't make another move, despite the return of his erection and the none-too subtle wriggling of Frays hips. It's enough to have the closeness of skin-on-skin eating up his senses and feel that steely spine of hers against his belly.
"Miller, if you don't hurry up and start fucking me, you're getting bucked and I'm going back to sleep."
He chuckles into her hair; an impatient Fray is the most sincere Fray and Matt's kind of into being ordered around.
"Yes, ma'am."