Title: Affirmation
Author: Night_Lotus
Rating: Mature
Word Count:
Chapter: 1/1
Disclaimer: I neither own Chuck nor its marvelous characters, but because of the creative genius of Chris Fedak and Joshua Schwartz, I have the opportunity to play in their sandbox.
Summary: AU, where Ellie accidentally intercepts an email meant for her brother, Chuck, and is left with the Intersect embedded in her brain.
Author's Note: AU, but takes place mostly within the Season 2 time frame of "Chuck." This was self-beta'd, so, any errors and/or omissions are mine and mine alone. Thanks for joining me on this journey.
Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she coughed, the alcohol burning a raw path down her throat. "Another," she rasped as she slid the glass across the table toward Casey, who held the bottle of Jameson at the ready.
He kept eyes locked on her as he poured; the pale amber liquid swirled into the glass and was warmed to a honeyed hue as it caught the low light.
"Slowly this time," he cautioned, sliding the glass back to her, preparing to pour another couple of fingers for himself.
She had held her own tonight, when the mission went south, but he knew that she was still rattled.
What was supposed to have been a low-level op to neutralize a smalltime, scumbag cooker who was itching to try on a new pair of oversized britches, suddenly got complicated.
Earlier that day…
"El Cocinero," as he had dubbed himself, was harboring the delusion that he was ready to crank up his operation and start trading meth for guns, across the border. Idiots like him were born to die young.
His real name was Eddie Vasquez, and what Eddie didn't realize was that the U.S. government, and the barrel of Casey's Sig drawing a bead on him, were the least of his worries.
Team Bartowski was there to take him down, sure, but The Jimenez Cartel had just shown up to shut him down permanently. You see, Tomas Contreras, the Cartel boss, took it as a personal affront that Eddie had the poor taste to even consider planting a pinkie toe in his territory. Yeah, Eddie hadn't thought things out real well.
A perfect pearl of sweat was winding its way down Eddie's neck as he stared down the barrel of Casey's gun, when he heard the loud, jovial voice behind him.
"Hey, what's up, cabron?" asked the short, wiry, dark-haired man, gripping a machine pistol in his left hand.
Eddie cast a weary look at Casey before he looked over his shoulder at the man strutting toward him with a casual smile. His heart, which had been pounding at a steady gallop since Casey had drawn on him, was now trying to claw its way out of his chest. The two burly bullet catchers blocking the only exit weren't making life easier.
"Shit," muttered Casey, under his breath. "Walker, call in the cavalry," he instructed, speaking quietly into his watch. "We have unexpected guests."
How the fuck had they gotten past Walker? Casey had immediately noticed the entry of the trio, but there wasn't much he could do other than keeping his gun trained on Vasquez.
"Looks like there's a party going on and we weren't invited," the gun totter said, waving the weapon in a sweeping arc around the mostly-empty warehouse. "Ramon, Luis, you get an invitation?"
"No, boss," the goons replied in eerie union.
"Eddie that hurts my feelings. May I call you Eddie?" he asked, clapping a hand on Eddie's shoulder, causing the already jittery man to jump.
"Ah, don't be nervous, hermano. We haven't been properly introduced. Let me take care of that. I'm Tomas Contreras."
Contreras held his hand out to Eddie, whose eyes darted nervously between Casey and the crime boss. The now-sweating man was clearly starting to panic.
The moron was beginning to hyperventilate, and he was going to get them killed sooner rather than later. Casey was hedging his bet against later, but Eddie was a wild card now, as unstable as a powder keg within striking distance of a match.
Casey knew Contreras' type. Men like him enjoyed putting on a gaudy, over-the-top show, starring their enormous egos. And, Ramon and Luis were the supporting cast.
This is how it was going to go down. The posturing and vainglorious gesticulations, happening right now, were the earmarks of act one.
Knuckle cracking and neck popping would provide the smooth segue into act two, where Eddie would stand trial, with Contreras cataloguing each of Vasquez's transgressions while acting as judge and jury.
The verdict: guilty as charged. Ramon and Luis, fitting flawlessly into their roles as executioners, would carry out the mandatory death sentence.
Collateral damage; that's what Casey and Ellie, who was next to him standing deathly still, barely breathing, would become. Oops, wrong place, wrong time. Sorry amigos. Contreras' sense of humanity was far too diluted to bother rationalizing his actions. Why bother. Most people were just meaningless insects to him, tools to be recycled, very simple means to a profitable end.
There was no intermission in this play, no time to regroup between acts. Walker was their only way out.
"Walker!" Casey hissed into his comm device, his blood pressure surging with each heart beat that thudded on top of the next as the seconds passed and she didn't respond.
He could feel Ellie's quiet, closely held fear rolling off of her in choppy little waves. His protective instincts were ratcheted up so high they were off the charts. But, the only way he could save her was to figure a way out of this gigantic cluster fuck.
Ellie stood stock still, not daring to turn her head and make eye contact with Casey. She didn't want him to look and see the fear in her eyes, which was put there by the crazy Mafioso who was gesturing wildly with his weapon, his finger on the trigger, the safety off. It would only distract him and get them killed that much faster.
A shudder skittered down her spine as the after images of her flash lingered at the edges of her vision. The bodies that Contreras had left in his bloody wake replayed, as she struggled to come to terms with their current situation.
She was a natural optimist, just like her brother, Chuck, but she was also a realist, given what she had seen in the ER and especially since becoming the Intersect. She knew that Sarah should have already responded to Casey's hails by now. She tried to swallow around the lump of ice constricting her airway as she conjectured why Sarah hadn't responded. Anger wrapped around worry, which was stuffed with sadness, as terrible images of her friend's possible fate fast forwarded, slide show style, through her head. Her heart constricted painfully in her chest and her breath hitched.
Ellie was smart enough to figure out that she, Casey, and Eddie were just about to be added to Contreras' ever mounting body count.
Her senses were heightened, and not because of the Intersect. She felt every molecule of the stale air filtering through the warehouse settle into the individual pores of her skin. Fear tasted metallic on her tongue and her vision was razor sharp. She faced and witnessed death every day in the ER, but it was radically different when you were looking into the ice cold eyes of your own.
With each beat of her heart, a whispered dream filtered through her consciousness. Images tinged with emotion stitched themselves together, weaving together what might never be.
It's funny. They say that your life flashes before your eyes when your number advances to the top of the list. But, her father flipping pancakes for breakfast, and her mother reading fairytales and kissing her on the forehead as she tucked her in for the night, weren't the images dancing before her eyes. Neither did she see the tears drip down Chuck's tiny cheeks and his little lip tremble as she applied a Band-Aid on his four-year-old skinned knee.
Instead, what she saw very much captured the moment, her heart's desires graphically painted on the canvas of her mind.
She inhaled. She wondered, would her hands tremble when she took Casey's face between them and touched her mouth to his, feeling his lips part beneath hers, his tongue capturing hers.
She exhaled. He was the key that fit her lock. She knew exactly how perfectly they would fit together when he was inside her, their limbs tangled, as he opened her up.
A corner of her mouth tugged up in a wistful smile as she imagined what it would feel like to tell him—
The sound of Contreras' slap against Eddie's back and his soft, yet deadly words jerked Ellie's focus back to the moment.
"Eddie," Contreras continued "I hear you're looking to expand your operation. Becoming quite the entrepreneur, eh?" Contreras chuckled as he put his arm around the shoulders of the two-bit drug runner, jostling the other man about.
"Y-yes sir," the words stumbled out of Vasquez's mouth, barely audible.
Contreras tightened his hold on Eddie. "We're generous and let mom and pop shops, such as your establishment," he gestured around the warehouse, using the oversized pistol as his pointer, "peddle your product," the cartel leader sniffed with open disdain. "But, my friend, you must be aware that everything south of here is Jimenez territory."
Eddie's brain desperately fumbled for an excuse, coming up way short. His eyes shot nervously to Casey, who still had the Sig trained on him, knowing somehow, intuitively, that the big, dark-haired man was the saner choice if he was going to end the day with his vital signs intact.
The drug lord caught the look that Eddie threw Casey and shifted his focus to the NSA agent. "Hey, jefe, no need for that my man," he said, nodding with his chin at Casey's Sig. "Put it down, yeah? I've got this one, brother. This is between me and Senor Vazquez. Don't worry though, you and the two beautiful chicas you brought with you will get equal time," the drug lord continued. "The blonde though," Contreras whistled through his teeth "she's got some moves. Damn! Left Ramon a souvenir to remember her by," Contreras chuckled.
A hot, blue flame of rage ignited within Casey as he slowly bent into a crouch and placed his weapon on the ground and slid it toward Contreras, who arrested the Sig's momentum with a freshly polished Ferragamo. He never lost eye contact with his adversary as he rose to his full height. He may have been outnumbered and outgunned at the moment, but he was going to find a way to kill the dirtbag and his hit squad.
Maneuvering Eddie into a headlock, Contreras looked over his shoulder and commanded "Ramon, Luis, take our friend here and put him in the van with la rubia while I settle some unforeseen business." He tipped his head sideways in Casey and Ellie's direction.
Casey slid a quick glance at Ellie as the mindless lackeys ambled over. Her eyes were closed, and he watched the column of her throat flutter around a half swallow. Yeah, the fucker was definitely a dead man.
After releasing a very reluctant Eddie to Ramon and Luis, Contreras briefly bent down to collect Casey's Sig. He came to stand off to Casey's left, watching along with the other two as his men dragged their resistant captive across the gray, greased-stained floor and out the door.
The buzz of the overhead fluorescents and the hollow echo of water puddling onto the floor drop-by-drop from a leaking pipe, intruded on the tense silence.
"Jefe," Contreras exhaled on a dramatic sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose while shaking his head slowly back and forth. "This is unfortunate, amigo. Especially her," he tsked, raking his gaze over Ellie from top to toe. "Tragic."
Casey didn't flinch, standing stone cold still, dark blue eyes narrowed on the other man, patiently waiting for an opening.
To her credit, Ellie tipped her chin up defiantly, refusing to cower under the gaze of the glorified gangster and allow him to use fear and intimidation to strip away her dignity. She continued to try her best to hide her fear and not serve as a distraction for Casey, who she was sure had a plan to get them out of this and rescue Sarah. Please let him have a plan, she prayed.
"But," Contreras continued, "The show must go on, so let's take care of this unfortunate business. On your knees, if you please, backs to me" he gestured with an extravagant arm flourish. "Now."
"Coward," Casey muttered under his breath.
Ellie turned her head and met Casey's eyes. He steadily held her gaze and gave her a slight nod before kneeling down on the concrete floor.
She followed him down, the cold of the floor biting into the bare skin of her knees and legs. Guess I should have worn pants instead of a skirt, she thought, humorlessly. Taking a shaky breath, Ellie stared straight ahead, focusing on the dim light filtering through the grimy bank of windows, the image blurring as she blinked back tears.
"Make your peace, compadres," Contreras said from behind them.
Her breath stalled as she felt Casey's hand wrap around hers, the roughened pad of his thumb grazing across the back of her hand, providing comfort. She gave his hand a squeeze and felt him squeeze back a fraction of a second before he tugged hard and fast on her arm, hauling her into his side, flipping her on her back, and dragging her beneath him.
She heard the sound of shattering glass just as she felt the warm weight of his body blanket hers, his arms wrapping around her head, shielding her.
He felt her stiffen underneath him as bullets whizzed overhead, slamming into Contreras' body, which jerked in a macabre dance of death. The thud of the drug runner's body falling lifelessly to the ground was followed by silence, and the smell of nitro hung in the air in the aftermath of the machine gun fire.
Casey cracked his eyes open and turned his head, looking over his shoulder to see two tactical team members hauling Contreras' body away.
The team's commander walked over to where Casey laid, still covering Ellie.
"Sir, we have Contreras' associates and Eddie Vasquez in custody and agent Walker is being checked by our field medic. She's going to be fine, sir."
"Thank you, McNeil," Casey responded, reading the name on the patch stitched on the combat gear covering the man's torso.
Thatta girl, Walker, Casey silently thanked his partner for actually managing to call in the cavalry.
He felt Ellie stir beneath him, and he quickly propped himself up on his arms, realizing he was probably crushing her.
Opening her eyes as she felt his weight shift, she looked up into concerned blue eyes.
"You okay?" he questioned as he gently brushed tendrils of hair from her cheek, tucking them behind her ear.
"I'm f-fine. What happened?"
"Walker called in reinforcements and Contreras is dead," he answered, still hovering over her. "His men and Vasquez are in custody and the medics are checking out Walker."
He watched as the long-held tension left Ellie's body, and she sagged with relief. He started to extract himself, ready to help her up, when she took him by surprise by launching herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck, drawing him back against her. He let her.
She held him tight, and he found himself hugging her back, uncharacteristically not caring that they were in plain sight of a room full of operatives.
After who knows how long had passed, he gave her a gentle squeeze. "Let's go check on Walker and round up Vasquez," he whispered against her hair, inhaling the sweet smell of her shampoo, mixing with a scent that was purely Ellie. He wasn't going to make it if he stayed down here with her like this much longer.
Casey let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding as he felt her arms loosen and eventually release him.
As he peeled himself off of her, he hesitated for a moment, looking down into those big gray eyes and worried face, which was a fatal mistake. He still felt her trembling beneath him, the aftershocks of the nearly-fatal mission racking her body, and he wanted nothing more than to take her mouth with his and soothe her without words.
Fortunately, Walker came to the rescue again. "Casey, report. Confirm your status."
"Roger that, Walker. The Asset and I are okay."
Present…
Ellie definitely didn't feel okay as she downed another shot of whiskey, albeit more slowly this time, heeding Casey's advice.
Casey studied her from across the table as she finished off the liquor. She was still troubled. He still felt a prick of unease thinking about what had almost gone down in Vasquez's warehouse earlier today. He had brushed up against death more often than he cared to count, and it really wasn't something you ever got used to. Hardened to? Yes. Accepting of? Maybe. But, for someone like Ellie who dealt with the death of others in a clinical, controlled setting and had never had her own life threatened before, it was different. It was devastating. It was the stuff recurring nightmares were made of.
Casey was never much of a talker, and he really didn't know how to provide verbal comfort and reassurance. That's what Walker was for, and she had done that, spending time with Ellie, providing support, trying to ease her distress. But, that had been hours ago, and Ellie clearly needed more.
He hadn't been surprised to see her when she knocked on his door a few minutes ago. He'd known since they'd left Castle that if she hadn't shown up on his doorstep, he would have turned up on hers.
In the aftermath of the mission, during the debriefing with Beckman, and while he drove them back to Echo Park, her eyes never left him for more than a few moments, unwilling to completely break the connection. He knew she trusted him, and he understood better than most the type of bond that forms between two people that come out of a life-threating situation on the living, breathing side of things. Problem was, that bond had been steadily strengthening between them for a while; way before today's op went bad.
That wasn't what was twisting his gut right now. What was fucking with his mind was the fact that he was excited to see her, wanted her here, and didn't necessarily want her to leave. He wanted to feel her underneath him again, her arms around his neck, their legs tangled together.
He knew from the first day he'd met her, the instant she'd given him that dazzling, startled smile after she had literally run into him, a human brick wall he'd deliberately erected in her path. He knew right then that she would destroy the landscape of his calm bit by bit, as efficient as a bulldozer. And, once the walls were razed, he would do things he couldn't take back.
He was teetering on a very dangerous precipice as he lit the Cuban.
"Mind?" he asked as he struck the match?
"No, please, go ahead," she said, still toying with the empty shot glass, absently circling her finger around the rim.
The tightly-packed tobacco caught fire as he held the flame against it, milking the other end with his mouth, taking slow, steady draws, bringing it to life. When he withdrew it from his mouth, he tilted his head back and formed an "O" with his lips, creating a series of perfectly formed smoke rings, showing off, hoping to distract her.
"That's impressive, John," she laughed, a smile lighting up her face. "May I try?"
He arched an eyebrow before reaching across the table, offering the unlit end to her. She was full of surprises this evening.
Ellie accepted it from him and gingerly held the smoldering tube of tobacco between her fingers, assessing it as she would a new piece of surgical equipment; she'd never done this before. Suddenly, a red hot blush spread across her cheeks, making her skin tingle as she glanced up and saw him watching her. He was leaning back casually in the chair, arms crossed over his chest, a smirk tilting up the corner of his mouth.
At that moment, she felt something release inside her. She studied him around the lazy curl of smoke unraveling from the cigar. She admired his firm, square jaw, peppered with dark stubble. Her gaze traveled up, locking on his lips, lingering there. Her tongue darted out to wet her own. A thin layer of ash formed on the still-smoking cigar.
Casey remained perfectly still under her blatant ogling, more than a little aroused and very intrigued. He waited patiently until her eyes locked with his.
When she finally got there, he showed her what he wanted and needed her to see. He knew he'd hit his mark when he heard her almost imperceptible gasp.
God, she knew she was playing with fire, but she needed his heat, wanted to be engulfed by his flame. She wanted to be wrapped up in his arms again, and not just because that's where it was safe. Because that's where she knew she belonged.
So, holding his gaze steadfastly, she drew the cigar to her mouth, inserting it firmly between her lips and took a long, slow draw, making the tip glow cherry red.
When she closed her eyes as her cheeks hollowed with the deliberate sucking action, his calm was a tick away from being shattered. Yeah, they were approaching Defcon One with alarming speed.
She slowly opened her eyes and allowed the captured smoke to cascade from her barely open lips in a slow, sensual curtain.
"You've been a bad girl tonight, Ellie. Smoking, drinking. What's next?" he asked with a wink.
He'd clearly just called her bluff and she paused, trying to decide what was next.
Sensing her hesitation, he continued, not relenting, circling his prey.
"That all you got?" He narrowed his eyes, issuing a challenge. "The rest of the pages in the 'How to Be a Bad Girl' field manual must have been blank, huh?"
He knew he was being a bastard, intentionally goading her, manipulating her, positioning her exactly where he wanted her. She just needed a little push, and they could both take what they wanted.
She took care to knock the ash off of the still-lit cigar before gently resting it on the ashtray. It gave her a moment to think and gather the nerve to act on what she had hungered to do since she first found herself submerged in those gorgeous, intense blue eyes of his.
She took a deep breath and stood up, walking around the table to where he sat, watching her. Slowly and deliberately, Ellie snuggled herself into the slender gap between his body and the table, facing him, resting her hands on his broad shoulders as she climbed aboard, the armless chair making it easy.
Straddling him, she leaned in, her mouth inches from his, and answered his question, elucidating exactly what was next. Her lips parted, and her lower lip grazed his. "I want to go for a ride, John," she breathed and kissed him.
There was nothing nice about the way he kissed her back. Finger-shaped bruises were forming on her hips where he grabbed her and drew her flush against him. The delicate skin on her cheeks and chin bore scratches from his stubble, and her bottom lip tingled where he'd bitten down, coaxing her mouth open to lay plunder with his tongue. She had issued an open invitation when she poured herself into his lap, and he definitely RSVP'ing.
Ellie felt the heat of him seep into the bare skin of her thighs and penetrate the thin material of the shorts covering her rear. Being consumed by John Casey was such a lovely way to burn. She surrendered to the moment and wrapped her arms around his neck as he kissed her senseless.
All Casey cared about at the moment was the lapful he had of one Eleanor Faye Bartowski, the taste and feel of whom he was very much enjoying. But, something was picking at the back of his brain, refusing to relent.
He wanted her, and she certainly returned the sentiment; the throaty mewling sounds she made as she rocked against him were a dead giveaway.
It was a natural human instinct to reach out to another and connect on a physical plane after surviving a traumatic event. The NSA psychs called it 'fucking in the face of death.' He was more than fine with her seeking succor in his arms, but needed to make sure she wouldn't regret it.
He broke their kiss, and his grip on her hips tightened as he fought for control. His breathing was ragged as he rested his forehead against hers. "Be sure, Ellie," he rasped, gulping in lungfuls of air as if to save his life. "If we do this, there's no going back."
As if reading his mind, she responded "I want this John, and I've wanted to be with you long before today."
That was all the affirmation he needed as he leaned back down and took her mouth, sliding his hand under her shirt, exploring the expanse of silken skin along her back as he worked his way up, continuing to stroke her mouth with his as he unhooked her bra.
She detested breaking the connection and mourned the loss of contact as she briefly unwound her arms from his neck and detached her mouth from his to remove her shirt and bra.
Before the garments hit the floor, he was tugging her back against his chest as he ate hungrily at her mouth. "So beautiful," he murmured as he kissed his way down the column of her throat, lingering to bite and suck on the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder.
Ellie tilted her head back, turning it to the side, offering him a greater expanse of skin to sample. Her core turned molten when she felt his teeth close around her throat, drawing her flesh into his mouth to taste with his tongue.
Casey growled low and deep in his throat as he continued to do things to her with his mouth, outlining her delicate collar bones with his tongue and placing his lips against the succulent tops of her breasts where they pushed up to meet his mouth, rounded against the hardness of his chest.
He lingered there for a moment, savoring her softness and enjoying the sweet little moans of pleasure she made as she continued to rock against him. He wasn't going to last much longer if she kept doing that. "Soon, Ellie," he promised, stilling her hips with his hands.
He pulled back a bit, reaching down with one hand to cup one of her breasts, the mound generously filling his palm.
Her breath momentarily stilled as she watched him circle the tip with his thumb, her nipple hardening into a deep, red raspberry. He maintained eye contact, continuing to look up at her as he flicked the engorged little bud with his tongue, tugging on it with his teeth, drawing her breast into his mouth. She felt moisture slicken the inside of her thighs.
She was the perfect mouthful. "I want to devour every inch of you," he asserted, releasing one breast before taking the other, lavishing upon it equal attention.
He lifted his head, coming up for air as he prepared for the next course of his feast. "Hold on, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear as he pushed against the floor with his feet, moving them and the chair a couple of inches away from the table.
Holding her hips, he lifted her off of his lap and onto the table. Ellie's sandals slid off, landing on the floor with a soft thud as her feet dangled over the edge.
"I meant what I said earlier," he said, easing her shorts and panties over her hips and down her legs, where they joined her sandals and the rest of her clothes, on the floor. "I want to devour every inch of you." Casey slid the chair back into place, running his hands lightly along her legs and thighs before grasping her ankles and lifting her legs onto his shoulders.
Palming her shapely behind, he drew her to his mouth, unable to stop a proud male grin as he felt her ankles lock behind his neck. He tongued her folds open, lapping up the sweet juices lubricating her. He took turns teasing her, switching between sucking on her clitoris and circumnavigating her entrance with the tip of his tongue.
Ellie had never been so turned on. She was panting softly, trying to break his hand hold and lie down on the table, but he wouldn't let her. Firmly secured by his large hands holding her hips, he continued to gorge himself on her.
Forget being turned on, she was about to explode. The man was going down on her right at the kitchen table, and she felt an exquisite, almost unbearable pressure begin to build near her perineum as her clit swelled under his skilled tongue.
"John!" she pleaded, clutching the edge of the table with both hands.
He could feel the little tremors beginning to ripple against his tongue and knew that she was close to coming. Taking one last long lick between her lips, he plunged his tongue into her entrance, applying gentle circular pressure to her clit with his thumb.
She arched her back as she felt the thrust of his tongue inside of her, her nipples hardening again in the cool air as she broke away from the warmth of his chest. He held her steady, bracing the small of her back with one hand, as he did marvelous things to her with the other, which brought her to the edge.
She bucked against his mouth as she tumbled over, and he found the taste of her even sweeter as her inner muscles alternately clenched and fluttered around his tongue, which was still buried deep inside of her.
After the tremors subsided, he gently withdrew and kissed the top of her mound. He lowered her legs and lifted her gently from the table and back into his lap. He folded her into his arm and stroked down her hair and back.
Ellie felt satiated and sublimely happy as she curled into his arms with a little sigh and let his warmth surround her.
"Let me take you to bed, Ellie," he breathed against the shell of her ear.
"I thought we sort of just did that," she said with a teasing note in her voice.
"Smart aleck," he returned, biting down on her lobe. "I meant upstairs to bed."
"Mmmm, okay," she agreed, untangling herself from him and standing up. As he rose from the chair, she walked toward the stairs, her foot barely making contact with the bottom step before she felt herself being swept up in his arms and carried upstairs.
When they reached his bedroom, he lowered her to the bed, following her down as she greedily tore at his clothes between heated kisses.
His boots hit the hardwood with two resounding thuds, the rest of his clothing strewn wildly around the room, in all of the directions Ellie had chosen to throw them.
Being skin to skin with him was exquisite, as was the feel of his weight on top of her, sinking her into the mattress, the long hard length of him pressing against her. She couldn't wait to feel him inside of her and started wrapping her legs around his waist as he parted her thighs with a knee. But, then she remembered.
"Wait!" she said with some urgency. He stopped instantly, looking down at her with worried eyes.
"Did I hurt you?"
"No, John, you didn't hurt me," she said smiling as she reached up to caress his cheek.
Concern was replaced by confusion on his face.
"Remember that ride I wanted earlier?" she asked. "On your back, Major."
He gave her one of those long and low sexy grunts that she loved and rolled onto his back, taking her with him.
"All aboard, ma'am," he said with a wink as she found herself straddling him once again.
She positioned herself above him and slowly impaled herself on his length. He took hold of her hips, allowing her to set the pace as she slowly and steadily rode him.
She looked wild and beautiful as she pumped above him, her hair tousled, her lips swollen, and her breasts bouncing. Magnificent.
It took incredible control to not tighten his grip and thrust up into her over and over and over again until he came. But, this was her show, at least for now. He would have his turn again later.
Ellie could tell by the bit of tension that he held in his body that he was fighting the urge to take control from her. She leaned down and kissed him on the mouth, their tongues entwining for a while before she gently withdrew and whispered in his ear. "Join me, John."
She watched the tension leave his body a fraction of a second before he clenched her hips, lifted his and plunged into her. She met each of his movements, creating a perfectly synchronized rhythm.
Their dance built to a fever pitch, and he came, pulsing steadily inside her. She joined a few moments later, cresting the wave with him.
As they laid together later, in silence, still wrapped around one another, he spoke. "They say that I'm a part of the Intersect, my files at least. I know you've flashed on me, Ellie. Tell me, what did you think?" he asked, stroking along her side, holding his breath as he waited for her answer.
She stilled his hand, lacing her fingers with his. "Yes, John, you are a part of the Intersect, and now you are a part of me. I thought then what I think now; that you are man with integrity who fights however he needs to for what he loves."
"You're right," he said, pressing a kiss to her temple.