Walt woke groggy but instinctively realising something wasn't right. He wasn't alone, and the blindfold and wrist restraints did not usually come included. A moments concentration revealed a familiar perfume and the click of expensive heels. Shaking his head to try and clear the fog, hearing the footsteps come closer and the bed giving way as she sat down beside him.
The cold gunmetal trailing down his torso told him he was naked, an unusual variation, designed to add to his vulnerability. What he didn't expect was the four sharp fingernails tracing a pleasurepain path following the gun barrel down his body. His breath hitched in surprise.
Vic smiled, he could feel it, a smug satisfied toothy smile. She leaned forward, almost caressing his face with her gun. He couldn't resist a defiant tilt of his jaw up and away from her. Her other hand removed his blindfold, he was surprised to find her face so close to his, as he glared angrily back at her. Her smile lingered like that of a famous disappearing cat.
Surprisingly she hadn't gagged him as well, so he replied with his own cocky grin she hated that grin, it drove her nuts, testing the restraints for breakability having both arms restrained was going to be a challenge to escape "A bit kinky for you Vic, I had no idea the wide open spaces affected you so deeply"
The smile faltered, but the gun under his chin never wavered, but it was her eyes that concerned him. The kiss was hot and startling, despite his surprise, he was happy to return it with interest. She took what she needed, he was in no position to deny her anything :)
Pulling back, breathing heavily, she stared at him, her eyes still conflicted. Thankfully the gun was on the bedside cabinet within easy reach still. Walt waited, uncertain how this was going to play out. You can only bluff so far and right now Vic was outside all of the normal rules.
Walt gasped, throwing his head back, testing the restraints again but for different reason this time.
Vic smiled carefully, her mouth and tongue working skilfully over him. His response was gratifying. Wrapping her hand firmly around him, laving and swirling, feeling him respond, feeling the pressure build. He was wound tight, back arched, head thrown back, strain showing in the line of his arms pulling at the restraints. She increased the rhythm and pressure, Walt breathing growing heavier, almost desperate. Vic knew she could hold him there, on the edge, tormenting him, and briefly toyed with the idea. Walt must have felt it, gasping "Vic, PLEASE!"
Again with the evil smile, but this time she took pity, and took him over the edge, his cry of release both relieved and triumphant. Satisfied, she sat back, giving him some time to recover, that smile more proprietory now.
Walt shuddered, the pleasure had been astonishing as had Vics rather surprising skillset and he was completely utterly enervated in the best kind of way. He slitted his eyes open all he could manage at this point and gazed at Vic, who was clearly revelling at the affect she had had on him. His sensitised skin shuddered under her touch as she trailed fingertips down his body, smiling an entirely different smile now.
Closing his eyes and groaning with satisfaction, he stretched under her touch. Turning his head to her, Walt smirked just a little and tugged again at his restraints " I believe its my turn next, and these are going to limit my... choices... more than a little"
She let him talk his way out of the restraints, they were in the middle of nowhere, and he was right, it *was* his turn.
Released he lay there, easing the strain on his shoulders they didn't usually get quite so much exercise, watching her under hooded eyelids. She sat, quivering internally, her turn to be uncertain. She had staked a claim and drawn a line in the sand. Usually, in their history, that meant the next lesson would be harder, taken further . Often an educational experience for involved parties, but not always a painless one.
He watched her, knowing what she was thinking she had drawn a line in the sand, and now it was his turn. First, he had to get her out of those clothes. A memory flickered, and she had a moments warning. He pounced, and she shrieked,wriggling, trying to escape "Damn you Walt, how did you remember" gasping as his inescapable hands reduced her to a helpless gasping collapse of course he would remember she was ticklish.
Walt was delighted with the lacy frivolous confection of lingerie she was wearing under the severe designer suit, and the rich purple tones glowed against her skin. Panting hard, released from the tickle torture, she lay half under him, and the familiar heat of temper showed in her face "Is that the best you got, Big Guy?"
Now it was his turn to take control, and as he rolled her out from under him, over til she was face down across the bed, a shadow of fear crossed her face. Nervously she allowed it, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing her fear, her vulnerability.
But he felt it, of course he did. He knew her better than she did in some ways, even better than he knew himself.
A buttefly kiss on her shoulderblade, more trailing down her spine, this time she shuddered in delight. Delicate finger tips traced along her body, exploring the curves and lines, not light enough to tickle but enough to tease. This time she could feel *his* smile, wicked at the responses he was achieving. A trail of hot tongue circles along the lines of her shoulder, up behind her ear made her gasp his name "Oh god Walt, don't you dare stop"
Of course he did stop, but as he was turning her over and finally claiming her lips, she forgave him. He kissed with great skill and enthusiasm, but it was the passion she could feel rising in him that made her breath catch and the realisation that without her noticing, the lingerie was gone, and she was naked beneath him. Vic hoped it was intact, it was expensive and her favourite colour.
He kissed with his eyes shut, fully involving himself in the experience. She, with her eyes open, wondering how they had finally got to this point in their relationship and welding this memory into her brain, to treasure always. He pulled away and they stared at each other, two intent driven people who were bound by bonds impossible to break or breakaway from. This moment has been a long time coming but both hoped it that it would.
Yet neither would ever admit that to the other.
She smiled a tiny fraction, he looked haunted and frightened and uncertain and yet committed all at once. She understood why, and did what she could to calm his fears with another kiss. The kiss deepened, the heat rising between them. Walt pulled away, hiding his face in her neck, breathing hard "Vic, I need this...I need you ...now"
His urgency was compelling, and yet she soothed him like a fretful child "Shhhh shhh its OK, I'm here, I'm with you". She pulled him up, kissing the fear away, sinking down as he rose above her, reaching up and gathering him into her. That first smooth movement had them both sighing, she with acceptance and he with shock or was it awe. He paused, staring down at her and she took a moment to shimmy her hips to a better angle, using both hands to snug him in deeper.
Walts eyes glazed over, dropping his head to her shoulder "You are an evil woman" and felt her laughter underneath him. As he began to move, the laughter gave way to breathlessness, and it was his turn to laugh, until he too lost his breath.
There was so much history, so much emotion between them, this could never be gentle. It was hard, fast and a little angry, and Walt was amazed at how Vic gave as he took and took more. The energy between them faster now, they spiralled around each other, she rising to meet his passion, he was taking her up higher and higher, she was wound tighter and tighter, back arched and straining, both hands bunched in sheets nails shredding them but better them than his back. He was driving them both now, she was lost in sensation, riding the wave of it without realising she was saying his name over and over again
Vic sucked in a breath, holding it, feeling herself on the edge, waiting oh god oh god oh god and with a primal scream fell over the edge, Walts deeper cry following her down into the stars and the darkness. Both of them covered in sweat, panting hard, crashlanding into the mattress, both minds numb with the sensory overload.
His slightly hoarse voice rouses her "Maybe I should let you surprise me a little more often" and all she can do is snort her annoyance at him getting the last word in. Again.