Arthur Kirkland was yours. Finally. Finally you could do what you wanted to him, do whatever you wanted to the greatest secret agent that M15 had. You had no idea how long you'd fantasized about this; long before you'd betrayed the service; that was for sure. Well, 'betrayed' was the ugly way of putting it, you preferred the term 'vacated'. It was more accurate too; after all, you hadn't given classified information to anybody, just… used it. And for your own professional gain, not because you desperately wanted to find a way to get Kirkland under your control. No matter how utterly fabulous his arse looked in those tight suit trousers.

He didn't look too happy with the arrangement; understandable, given that he was tied to a chair with a gun pointed at his head. You wouldn't have shot at him though- not with that gun anyway. No, you had so much you wanted to do to him, so much that killing him would be, quite frankly a waste. Though he didn't seem to have picked up on this; he was acting like it was just a routine interrogation. He opened his mouth, green eyes blazing with hatred.

"Do you expect me to talk?"

You almost laughed; he actually really did think this was about information. You could have any information you wanted with the click of a button and yet he still though it was about that. Still, you had to give the guy credit; many lesser agents would have already cracked by now. Just another thing that you loved about this man. And just another reason you wanted to crush every single piece of self-dignity he had left. You removed the gun from under his chin, walking slightly away so that your back was turned to him, blocking the light that came from the only bulb in the interrogation room.

"You just did."

You could tell he was getting more irritated by the second, not even having to look at him to figure that out. The air almost dripped with emotions, from Kirkland, not you. No; you were doing a remarkably good job at keeping your emotions in check. Not that you could say the same for everything. Though, given what you had planned for this evening, that probably wasn't a bad thing.

You turned back towards your prisoner, a massive smirk covering your face. His expression, on the other hand, had only seemed to grow angrier. If that was possible. You walked towards the lone chair backed up against the wall, sliding the gun back into your jacket, your footsteps the only sound in the whole room, aside from a few low growls. Once there, you stopped, standing directly above him, pulling his chin up to force him to look at you. He fought back against the movement; futile, of course, but somehow endearing. He was yours. Utterly yours.

"So, Mr. Kirkland, what was it that made you think you sneak into my base without being noticed?" you purred, teasing him with every syllable. Arthur turned his head to the side, avoiding both your gaze and your question.

"What information do you hope to get from me?"

You knelt down slightly, so that your face was at around the same height as Arthur's, before running one hand through those gorgeous messy blond locks. "Information wasn't exactly what I had in mind~"

Finally, he got what you were talking about. Those forest green eyes of his opened wider, every feature on his face screaming shock. And, in doing that, he'd opened his mouth. So he really shouldn't have been surprised when you leaned forward and kissed him.

The first thing you noticed was the taste of his mouth, deep and masculine. You unconsciously moaned, leaning further and further into him. To start with, he was definitely in denial; understandable, given who he was. M15's playboy super spy wouldn't want to tarnish his slate by seeming to enjoy attention from the villain he was supposed to be facing. Especially given the villain was a man. But he couldn't hide it for long, eventually letting out a deep, dark moan that set you on edge. You wrapped your left arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer, while your right hand travelled down his body, stopping to play with his bow tie for a minute, before finding the stone hard bulge in his trousers, stroking it gently, before pulling away from him, the smirk still covering your face.

"Anything to say, Mr. Kirkland."

He gulped, the anger coming back into his eyes. "Only one thing."

"Humour me."

"You Sir, are a wanker."

You chuckled darkly, a glint showing up in your (e/c) eyes. Sliding a hand into his hair once more, you pulled him forward, forcing him to stare you in the eyes. "Not today, Mr. Kirkland, not today."

It took him a while to get what you meant, by which point you had already managed to pull his trousers down to his ankles, pushing his legs apart and exposing the now very obvious sign that you weren't the only one enjoying this game. He flushed bright red, a look of indignation covering his face. You made a mental note to try and see what other expressions he had, before stroking one hand against Arthur's boxers, feeling the bulge start to grow in your hand and starting to stroke slightly more vigorously. Your prisoner let out a grunt, before managing to get a few words out.

"Why can't you just interrogate me like every other supervillain on this bloody planet would?"

You chuckled again, knowing you had the perfect comeback.

"You see, Mr. Kirkland, I happen to like my men both shaken and stirred."

He had no response aside from sucking in air as his boxers went the same way as his trousers, leaving him completely exposed to you. And boy was it a nice sight. You could start to understand how somebody like him had managed to pull in so many girls. Not that he was going to any more. Nope, because he was yours now and you weren't going to let some wench take him from you. You slid your tongue along the tip, wanting to see what his reaction would be. As it turned out, he moaned, a sound which you had so often dreamed of him making. And now, finally, it was happening. Fighting back the urge to tear your own boxers off and satisfy the growing need within them, you bent your neck down again, this time taking as much of him as you could into your mouth.

You could almost taste the lust radiating off his body, mixing with the salty tang of his skin. Guided by instinct, you pulled back until only the tip was still left inside your mouth, before taking the rest of him back in. But hey, it seemed to work; at least that's what you could guess from the pants, the groans and the mewls filling the small room. He didn't bother trying not to buck into your mouth, almost choking you. Which wasn't a good thing; nobody was ever going to take you seriously as a supervillian if you died giving your own prisoner a blow-job. You pulled back, coughing slightly, leaving Kirkland tantalizingly close to climax, the room filled with his panting. He looked at you, all self respect seeming to leave him, with those puppy dog eyes that you would normally never be able to refuse. You shook your head.

"Beg."

He said nothing.

"I said beg."

Again, nothing. You narrowed your eyes.

"You know, if you don't beg, not only will I not finish you, I'll also shoot you in the head."

That did it. "Please [Surname], please."

Your smile returned and you bent back down, using your elbows to keep his legs apart as you finished what you had already started. He gave one last thrust, screaming out your name, and your mouth became filled with hot liquid. Pulling away, you swallowed, before wiping the little trickle of escaped liquid from around your mouth. Your prisoner was panting even harder now, like had just run a marathon. No, make that six marathons. You gave yourself a mental congratulations, before chuckling to yourself.

"You do realize this isn't the end of what I plan to do to you, don't you?"

The look on Kirkland's face was priceless. "I-It i-isn't?" he panted, taking huge gulps of air between each word. You just smirked further, the sensations of smiling so wide starting to hurt your facial muscles.

"Definitely not. After all, I have a gun in my pocket and I think it's glad to see you…."

He gulped, though you couldn't tell if it was because he was short of breath or from shock. You sighed, standing up and turning away in the slim hope he wouldn't see you trembling. It was risky, what you had planned. While you had built this base to last, it was entirely likely that a rescue operation was already underway and you didn't know how long your minions could keep them away. Almost as if the world were reading your thoughts, a faint voice sounded over the radio you'd left at the other end of the room. You cursed under your breath, reaching for it, wanting to get rid of the distraction. The minion on the other end was utterly unprepared for your wrath.

"What is it."

If they'd been in front of you, you were certain they'd be quaking. Talking over radio didn't have quite the same effect, but you were still confident that you could be terrifying this far from the action. And, from the shaky voice, you were probably right.

"We… we're being shot at…"

"Well shoot back."

You heard a faint gulp on the other end of the line. "We are Sir, b-but there's lots of them; we don't know how long we can hold up."

You almost snarled, anger growing. "Oh really, well I do."

"Y-you do?"

You nodded, despite knowing they wouldn't be able to hear you. "You will hold up until either you or the enemy are dead. Whichever comes first."

You didn't wait for a reply, dropping the radio, which hit the ground, the case cracking a little. If what you'd heard was true, you didn't have long. Which was even more reason to get on with it. You reached into your trouser pockets, twirling your fingers around the small bottle in there. No, you told yourself, too soon.

Glancing back towards your prisoner, you tried to sum up your options. You still didn't know how much you could trust him to play along. But you didn't really have a choice.

"I'm going to untie you, but don't get any ideas. I can still have you killed if you try anything."

He nodded in reply. It was probably pride that stopped him speaking, you guessed. Pride, and shame at the situation he was now forced into. But it was his fault really; his fault for being captured so easily. You moved back towards him, pulling a small penknife from your pocket. Ineffective, you knew. Hacking through the ropes would be hard work with that, but it was safer; less chance that Kirkland could use it as a weapon against you. It could still do damage, you weren't denying that. But you had more chance of getting away alive than if you used a machete. You spun around the chair, kneeling behind it.

The rope was even harder to cut than you had imagined, if that was possible. Shreds of material went flying in every direction and you bit your lip to stop yourself swearing out loud. Not because you had anything against it; you just didn't want Kirkland to think you actually cared about cutting him free. But eventually, you managed to tear away the last piece, leaving his arms free. He grunted, stepping up and attempting to pull his lower layers of clothing back on. You tutted, forcing his attention back to you. You let out a dramatic sigh.

"You won't be needing to do that." You could see the anger building up in his eyes, the throaty growl forming in his throat. Treading carefully would have been a good idea at that point, but you weren't going to. After all, treading carefully just wasn't your style. "Just rest your hands on the wall and bend over. Oh and", you looked at his twitching fingers distastefully, "don't even try and think about escaping. There are guards everywhere; you'll never get out alive."

He did what you told him to, but not without a hint of anger. He shivered, the cold air in the cell making his skin crawl. "Do you do this to every spy you capture?"

You stood behind him, placing your hands to the side of his, stretching your body over his. Leaning inwards, you rested your head on his shoulder, ignoring the shudders underneath you. "No." Only to you, Kirkland. Only to you. You backed away, once again reaching for the bottle in your pocket. By this point, he'd jammed his eyes shut, not wanting to see what you were going to do to him. You unscrewed the top and poured the liquid out onto your fingers. It was freezing, the temperature obvious even in the cold room. You sucked in a breath of air, before sliding a finger into his warmth.

His body was tight around your finger, a confirmation of what you had already expected; he was untouched, unspoiled, unsullied. Not that that was going to last much longer. You slid in slightly further, before retreating ever so slightly. From the noises you were receiving, you guessed it wasn't exactly comfortable. But you ignored them, pumping ever so slightly harder, speeding up with every movement. You added another digit, feeling the tension in his body grow. And it wasn't just his body that was reacting.

You weren't going to be able to hold much longer, you muttered to yourself under your breath, you had to do it; it was now or never.

You pulled your hand away, Kirkland emitting a slight sigh of relief. He was trying to hide it, the volume of his voice turned down considerably from its normal level, but it was still all too obvious. You chuckled, moving your clean hand down to wrestle with your belt buckle. It was harder than you thought; maneuvering with only one hand. But eventually you managed to pull it open, hastily pulling the rough fabric down your legs, trying not to focus on the ever enlarging tent in your boxers.

When you finally managed to get them off, the first thing you noticed was the freezing cold air in the room. No wonder Arthur had been shaking; you really needed to get a heater put into these rooms. You mentally added it to your list of things to do, trying to temporarily banish it from your thoughts. Because you had far more important things to worry about. You took hold of Arthur's hips, moving him ever so slightly until he was in just the right position, resting your head on his shoulder once again.

He cried out as you finally pushed into him, but you barely noticed. In fact, you barely noticed anything except the tightness around you, the warmth seeming to spread around your entire body, forming a knot in your stomach. You thrust into him, wanting to signal to him that he was yours, was yours to do what you pleased with. He was shaking now, not caring how pathetic he looked. You kissed his neck lightly, continuing with your thrusts, placing a hand around his body, stroking him in time to them.

"You k-know Kirkland", you whispered in his ear, no idea how you managed to avoid stammering so well, "I like you so m-much b-better when you're n-naked."

He snorted, or at least tried to, his shaking voice betraying him. "I l-like you s-so much b-better when you're n-not trying to kill m-me…"

You must have hit his sweet spot, because he was unable to finish what he was saying without screaming out the last syllable. You were coming pretty close too; the knot in your stomach tightening every second. Giving one last massive thrust, you let it unravel, a moan escaping your lips. Your legs went shaky, forcing you to lean on the taller man for support. A second later, a second moan broke the cold quiet, your hand suddenly becoming covered in liquid. Not that you happened to care at that moment; you were still riding out the waves of pleasure that had just been released. You panted, your body desperately trying to gain more oxygen.

"Y-you do r-realize this m-means you b-belong to m-me, d-don't y-you?"

Also panting, he nodded. "I k-know."

You smirked. "G-good."