He hears a soft knock on the door of his quarters. Good she's her.
"Come in"
He calls out, as he pushes papers into his desk. He can't help be feel nervous. She's a dangerous women; Stubborn, strong and hot-headed. He would be lying if he said that didn't drive him crazy, That he didn't imagine taking her over his desk and making her his own. When she comes in, he can't help but notice the way her vault suit hugs every inch of her body. She's tall and lean with the perfect amount of curves. He hips sway, calling out for him to touch her. She has the perfect kind of breast, big and firm, the kind that would fit perfect in his hands. Her short choppy red hair frames her face and he gets lost in her dark green eyes. She bits down on her lower lip, green eyes meeting blue. It's innocent, but he can feel himself harden. He tells himself that it's because it's been too long, but he knows that's a lie and there's more to it then that. She takes a seat in front of him, with only his desk separating them.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Yes, thank you for coming. Would you care for a drink?"
He opens his desk and pulls out two shot glasses and an old bottle of whiskey. He opens the whiskey and pours it into the shot glasses. He hears a soft chuckle fall from her lips.
"Only one shot? You know me better then that Elder."
He allows himself to laugh and he allows himself to relax for the first time in a long time. He had forgotten how good it felt to laugh, how good it felt to have a drink and be Arthur not elder Maxson, but Arthur.
"Too the death of the Institute."
He raises his glass in the air and Sam meets it with her own. Her eyes meet his and she brings her glass down to her parted pink lips. She licks the edge of the glass and he bites down on his lip in order to keep back a sigh. She sucks down the amber liquid and then licks her lips again.
"hmm, whiskey always burns so good."
Maxson takes the whole shot in one swing and slams his glass on the desk. This will be eaiser when I'm drunk. He has to remind himself.
"Yes, after what we have been through, simple things like whiskey, they make things better."
He fills his glass up again, his hands are shaking as he pours the sour whiskey down his throat. His head is already swimming and his eyelids feel heavy. With his eyes half open he pours himself another glass. He's about to bring the glass up to his lips, but he feels Sam's warm hand over his own.
"Arthur..."
He slams his glass down hard onto the desk. He grabs onto Sams hand and roughly pulls her up with him.
"Did I give you permission to speak?"
Her mouth falls open and she's at a lose for words. He grabs her other hand and rises them over her head. He takes no time in pushing her up against the wall. He doesn't give her a chance to speak before his own lips cover her's. It's hard, rough and filled with longing. He growls deep into her mouth and at first her lips don't move, but soon they move against his owe. He bits and tugs on her lower lip earning him a small whimper. He lets her her arms fall to her sides and he takes his right hand up to her face. He cups her cheeks and pushes her head up so he can look her in the eyes.
"I want you. I wanted you for along time now and I always get what I want."
Sam raises both her arms up and pushes her palms hard up against his chest and pushes him back. He stumbles backwards and curses under his breath.
"What the hell has gotten into you, Arthur?"
Her dark green eyes are burning into his blue eyes. A storm a emotion floods his mind. Part of him wants to through her onto his bed and force her to summit to him and another part of him wants to kiss her deeply on the lips. He wants to be close to her and feel her skin under his finger tips and to kiss every inch of her body. He wants to know what it feels like to love another, in both body and soul. He's never been close to anyone before. He's taken lovers, but it had only been for the night, nothing more then sex. Sam confuses him like no one else has. He scared of her, scared of what they could be.
"Sam please, just let me, let me feel you."
It comes out as a desperate plea.
"No Elder, you can't have everything you want."
Sam turns her back to him and he falls to his knees. He closes his eyes and he hears the door shut. He won't beg her to stay, he can't let himself fall that low. He won't let himself be controlled by his own emotions.
Later that night, he takes himself in his hand and her pictures the way she would look if she was laying with him. She would be all whimpers and soft breathing, wild dark green eyes and messy reds hair. She would beg him to let her cum. He would use the tips of his fingers, rolling them roughly over her clit and she would scream his name out in pure bliss. The very thought brings him over the edge and he cums with a loud cry and tears in his eyes.