Notes: Co-written with badwolfgirlicouldkissyou and based on one of our Tumblr RP threads.

This is an AU fic for both characters involved. This Rose is older than the one last seen in Journey's End, and she turned to life as a call girl after an encounter with an alternate Tenth Doctor that went wrong really fast and left her jaded, cynical, and broken.

This Doctor is my own Dark!Ten RP muse (Teine, url: timelxrd-victorious) who lost all faith in humanity after encountering the Midnight entity, never came down from his Time Lord Victorious state in The Waters of Mars, and refused to save Wilfred from death by radiation poisoning. By this point in his timeline he's been on his own for a while now. (He's also got some rather... interesting biology and habits.)

Oh, and yes, this whole entire thing is basically PWP with maybe a hint of angst. I also had to split it into two chapters, because it would have been far too long otherwise.

Curiosity

Chapter One

"Thank you for your business, sir," Madame Lyss said, handing the Time Lord a key to the suite for the evening. He'd paid a substantial amount of money for an evening with the Lady, but then… she had a reputation. Normal clients would hire her for an hour… maybe two. Abnormal clients like this one would buy an entire night.

"Lady Adalwolf is Suite 10. Top floor, end of the hall. You will knock twice so she knows it is a client. No more, no less. She doesn't like it when clients come in wearing shoes, so I suggest you leave your trainers at the door before entering the suite. You will wait until she grants you entrance. If you have no further questions, you may go upstairs," the older woman instructed, gesturing to the stairs behind and to the left.

The Doctor flashed her a quick, tight smile before pocketing the key and followed the direction of her gesture, headed up the flights of stairs to the top floor. Once at the end of the hall in front of Suite Ten, he toed off his trainers, rapped twice on the door.

She had been expecting a client. Arrangements had been made a day in advance due to the nature of the request. A Lady such as herself couldn't simply drop her appointments because of one man, of course.

It was such that, as the door was knocked upon, she was already in position, one leg crossed over the other, entire body in shadow and only her golden hair reflecting the moonlight that cascaded through the window behind her. Cigarette in hand, she ashed it in a free standing ashtray.

"Enter," she said and waited until the door was shut behind him completely before speaking again. He would not see her face just yet. Not until she was ready for him to see it.

Of course, the face he wore… it wasn't entirely surprising. He wouldn't be the first with that face to come see if the stories were true. He wouldn't be the last.

"You may sit wherever you like," she said with a bored tone before taking a long drag from her cigarette. "We have some business t'attend to b'fore we begin the evening's events. Don't worry, you'll not be charged this time. But first, I'll need you comfortable. The questions I'll be askin' will require full disclosure or this won't work."

The Doctor nodded shortly, cast his eyes around the room for a place to sit, and settled down in what looked like a very comfortable chair. "Fire away," he said casually, leaning back in the chair and crossing one of his long legs over the other.

He'd recognized the voice instantly—of course he had—and a rather large part of him was curious to see if this was actually Rose or an alternate version of her. Either way… was perfectly fine with him, to be honest.

That's when she leaned forward. She knew all too well what she was doing, as the faint light from a candles surrounding her bed washed over her face casting amber shadows dancing through her hair.

"Hello, Doctor," she said with a manic grin that was anything but pleasant. She would enjoy this. "First question… are you afraid of the big Bad Wolf?"

"What makes you say that?" It came out sharper than he'd intended. His body tensed involuntarily—an instinctive reaction—and he resisted the urge to shrink back in the chair, away from her.

Lady Adalwolf stood from her perch and practically glided across the room until she towered over the Time Lord. She took his chin in her hand, maybe a bit too roughly.

"You paid for the night," she stated, eyeing his freckles. "You didn't come here t'sleep with the woman that could have been yours. You came t'see what became of her. You all do. Don't toy with me, Doctor. I know who you are. It's funny, when I was desperate to get back to you all those years ago I couldn't find you. Now that I've stopped it's like I can't get away from you. Your face keeps showin' up through that door. Over and over again. Why?"

The Doctor swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. "I… I don't…" He couldn't help flashing back to the last time he'd seen her face in a red room—only it hadn't been Rose, it had been her—the Bad Wolf. And even though this wasn't quite her—she'd changed, as had he—every sense he possessed was homing in on her scent, on where she was gripping his chin in her hand a little rougher than necessary. His eyes raked over her body; he could feel his hearts start to beat faster in response.

Since he couldn't think of an answer to her question, he went on the offensive: "I don't know why alternate versions of me keep following you, but I didn't come here to see what had happened to you. You're a call-girl now? Fine—I'm not going to persuade you to change that." Something dark, sly glinted in his brown eyes. "I'm wanted by several different organizations myself—Torchwood, UNIT, the Shadow Proclamation, probably the Time Agency for all I care. But what I want right now… is you. All of you."

His eyes held hers in a challenge as he closed his fingers over the hand gripping his chin, pried it away yet made no move to let go. Instead he slowly swiped his thumb over the inside of her wrist, surreptitiously felt for her pulse.

"Savira'ra, Arkytior."

She frowned at that, twisting her wrist from his grip.

"Don't use that language around me, Doctor," she snarled. "That might've worked with your Rose, but not me."

She gripped him by the collar and forced him into a stand, turning them so his back it toward the bed. In one motion she pushed him down so he landed on his back, sprawled out on the mattress.

"You want me t'fuck you, Doctor?" she asked in a dark voice. "Oh… You're in my chambers now. If you wanna be fucked, I'll have my fun with you first. And you'll thank me for it."

He grinned, eyes dark with a mixture of lust and anticipation. "If that was foreplay, I'm all in."

"Foreplay?" she asked in a dark tone. She crawled up his body until her knees were on either side of his chest. She sat down on his stomach. "This is just the beginning of foreplay, Time Lord…"

Her lips ghosted over his throat, hands running up his arms to his wrists, guiding them over his head.

Click.

She'd handcuffed him to the bed.

She smirked. "You will speak when spoken to," she said in a dark voice. "If you speak b'fore given permission I will gag you. You will thank me for everything I give you and you will not touch me without my permission."

With that her smile dropped and the climbed off the bed, heading toward her wall of toys.

His eyes tracked her movements as she climbed off the bed and headed over toward a wall, raked appreciatively over her body. It wasn't that he hadn't enjoyed looking at her when she'd been traveling with him—he had—but he'd been too much of a coward to even admit his feelings for her, let alone act on them. Running into several other versions of her since then had helped with that somewhat, but right now…

He had to admit, he was curious and more than a little excited to see where she was going to take this and what she had planned for him.

Chosen implement in hand, she strode back to the helpless Time Lord. Of course she knew he could break through his handcuffs without having to even try, that just made it more fun.

The Lady frowned. "You're far too clothed," she said in a dark voice. Her eyes flashed gold and his clothing disintegrated around him in an instant. "Better…" she murmured, eyes returning to their normal color.

She smirked at his expression. "Are you afraid now, Time Lord? Did you not do your research before comin' t'see me? Adalwolf? Means Noble She-Wolf. I used t'be Rose Tyler-Noble. Now I'm just the Bad Wolf…"

His mouth went dry as the full impact of her words hit him. "Chan," he breathed, felt his hearts beat faster with fear. Suddenly he wanted to shrink back and disappear, or run the hell away and never stop.

This wasn't a dream anymore—it had turned into a nightmare. And if he'd been slightly anxious ever since she'd asked him about the Big Bad Wolf before, now he was terrified.

Cac! Cac!cac!cac! What came out instead was: "Cum air falbh!"

The golden glow vanished at his panicked words, leaving only her smirking face.

"Now I've got your attention," she stated darkly. "You asked me t'fuck you. You never said how." She cracked a cat of nine tails in his general direction. "I promise not t'do that again if you promise t'behave. You want t'sleep with Rose, you have t'make it through the Lady first."

The Doctor swallowed hard, forced down the terror that was clawing at his insides. "Yes, milady."

Omega, what have I gotten myself into?

The Lady sneered at that. "Good boy," she purred darkly. "Normally we go through all sorts of questions about pain tolerance. However, I happen t'know exactly how hard I can hit a Time Lord, so I think we can forgo that whole nonsense…"

She raked the cat of nine tails down his slender body, letting him feel the soft leather trace the contours of his ribcage.

Crack.

It wasn't even hard enough to sting a Time Lord, but enough to get his attention. "The safe word is red…"

The Doctor flinched—an involuntary reaction—as the leather whipped his skin. Dark eyes on hers, he nodded slowly to show her he'd heard.

"Continue," he whispered. Normally he wouldn't have surrendered this quickly, wouldn't have given anyone this much control. But right now, with his emotions a tangled mess of fear, terror, and desire… he wanted her to lead.

"…Do whatever you want to me."

"That's more like it," she growled, whipping him a second time. Then a third. By the time she was satisfied his chest was delightfully pink. She would push him just to the point where he might safeword and then stop before he needed to.

"You're enjoyin' this," she taunted. "Look how hard you are. You're leakin' precum all over my sheets. But I'm not done with you yet. Not by a long shot, Time Lord."

She crawled over his body, hovering just above him. She didn't touch his skin in anyway… not yet. "That was just the warm-up round, pet. I'll have you beggin' for my wet pussy before this night is over. And you will beg…."

"Minx." There wasn't as much bite to the word as he'd wanted, but oh gods this was torture already. He wanted her to kiss him, taste him, wanted her to run her hands all over his body….

A low groan left him at all the little timelines he could see starting to play out inside his head, each more erotic than the next. Unable to keep still, his hips shifted, searching for the warmth and friction he needed.

Another possible timeline had him swallowing hard, halfway shutting his eyes and tilting his head back to expose his throat. "Creachaidh tu mi," he rasped.

The Lady only chuckled at his desperate and needy tone. "So you did love your Rose…" she murmured. "I loved her deeply. You miss her. That's new. The Time Lords I see have never cared this deeply for their Rose. Never needed her this much."

Her lips ghosted along his throat. "Tell me, Doctor," she whispered, hot breath the only thing touching his flesh. "Tell me how much you need me. How desperate you are. If I believe you, I'll give you what you seek. If not, I'll get the cane down…"

Even when he'd been all leather and big ears and blue eyes he'd never been able to refuse her, and he didn't want to start now. His thoughts were a mess, trying to form something that would come out sounding halfway coherent.

"I never told you and I should have, shouldn't have left you, should've…" The words left him before he was aware that he'd made the decision to speak, but now that he'd started he couldn't stop—didn't want to stop.

A shiver raced through him—she was so close yet so far away, and the heat from her body was maddening. His eyes closed fully for a second before snapping open, meeting her own.

"Too many wasted chances." A bitter, mocking half-smile played at his mouth then was gone. "I've wanted you ever since I took your hand and told you to run, but that me never acted on our feelings for you. Too much of a coward. So was this me, really—all those times I wanted to make love to you and I never did."

Another flash of tantalizing timeline had him shifting beneath her, biting back a faint growl. "That night after the spaceship and France and clockwork droids… I kept waiting for you to come to me, but you never… I would've let you claim me, mark me, take me back from a ghost that never existed in the first place."

For a second, the mask of arrogance in his eyes slipped and was replaced by something close to fear and desperation. "I've killed myself once for you. Will you be the death of me again?"

"Such a confession of your hearts," she purred, hips sinking down to make contact with his own. Her knickers are the only thing that separate their sex and he should be able to feel how sopping wet she is at her core. Something about the power over a Time Lord did that to her. Drove her into such a lust induced high she couldn't quite stop herself from flushing.

"Feel how hard you are for me…" she continued, not allowing him to see how the friction of his throbbing length pressing into her wet folds was driving her to a point of no return.

"I'll fuck you until you regenerate," she promised. "So hard, so fast so forceful. You'll never know what hit you. Would you like that? Would you like me t'make you cum… and cum… and cum?"

The Doctor flinched at the mention of regeneration, felt panic begin to creep in. He couldn't regenerate, couldn't… I don't want to go, not yet—not ever.

"You can't make me regenerate. You can't you can't you can't—!" The panicked words spilled out before he could hold them back. He tensed beneath her, caught for a moment between fear and desire.

Rassilon, he needed her, ached for her…

He shut his eyes, swallowed, opened them again and met her gaze. He wasn't quite sure what she saw there, didn't want to know.

"Take me," he whispered. "A chrostag sguir a dh'obair orm!"

"No, I probably can't," she agreed, humming in thought. "Don't mean I won't try. You won't be able t'walk right for days when I'm through with you…"

Standing on her knees she hooked her thumbs under her knickers and pulled until they tore away from her body. They'd already been ruined with her juices. Balling the fabric of her hands she shoved it into his face.

"Smell me…" she purred. "Take in my pheromones." She watched him gulp in her scent, his throbbing cock twitching in need of coupling. Without warning she slammed down onto him, impaling his cock in her hot, hot, wet center. She couldn't even stop the moan of pleasure that rocketed from her chest.

"Oh Fuck! You're so hard!" she whined. Gripping his shoulders she rocked her hips, letting his length slip almost to the tip before slamming back down even harder than before.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard, Doctor. You may not cum without permission."

With that she set a hard, bruising and frantic pace not for his pleasure but that of her own.

"Yes, my Lady," he gasped out, voice trailing off in a low groan. His head tilted back; he watched her through half-lidded eyes as she rode him fast and hard.

This was pure torture. He couldn't do anything, couldn't touch her, could only move with her as fire threatened to consume him from the inside out. (At least she was finally touching him now, even if it was only for her own support.)

The Lady did not let up, riding him ragged. Soon her moans weren't put upon at all, but real and in earnest. Her nails claws into the skin on his chest, sweat dripping down her face. She hadn't just ridden a client for her own pleasure in far too long. "Let me hear you, Doctor..." she groaned, tits bouncing with her fast and hard rhythm. "Let me hear how it feels t'be inside someone with my face! C'mon, give me all the filthy fucking words a Time Lord knows!"

If he said anything right now, he knew it wouldn't be in English—it would be in either his native tongue, Gaelic, or a mixture of both languages. But then she did something, his mind went blank and hazy with pleasure for a few brief heartbeats, and then he was rambling on to her in Scottish: she was all liquid heat and teeth and claws and felt bloody fantastic and he needed to cum, wanted to feel her go over first; he wanted to touch her, taste her; he wanted her tasting him. …

At the sound of his voice she took him even harder… if that were possible. The bed rocked with the force of her passion, slamming into the wall. It wasn't often she was wild like this with someone, but tonight she was nothing but need. Carnal need. Not for his pleasure at all, but her own.

Her vision began to blur with each slap to her womb that came faster and without abandon. Her nails dug into his shoulders for a moment, watching his face as she rode him.

"That's it," she growled out. "Oh yes, Doctor!" With those words she leaned down and bit into his neck, suckling a love mark there to rival any that he could leave on her skin. But even then it wasn't enough and she needed more.

Pulling out, she flipped so her back was to him and in one go impaled herself on his cock once more. This change in angle was what she needed to find her release, but she wasn't ready yet. Oh no… she was to draw this out for a long as possible. Continuing her bruising pace on his shaft she rode him hard, moans wanton and needy. She arched her back, placed both hands on his shoulders and pistoned in and out. In. Out. IN. OUT!

"Aaaaahhhhhh…. fuck! Doctor. Feel how fucking wet I am for you? Fuck….fuck…fuck! Cum for me!"

Her walls gave only one warning…. a small quiver that her release was nearing… and then the slammed down around him. She came harder than she probably ever had before, wailing out her release and undulating with each wave of pleasure he caused, milking him.

He groaned softly—his only warning—and then he was coming hard, spilling himself inside her as her walls gripped him tight, milking him until he had nothing else to give.

For a brief moment his control slipped, had him reaching out with extra limbs he usually kept inactive to caress her warm, human skin. They only just grazed her stomach before he snatched them back and regained control. The Doctor found himself hoping she hadn't noticed, that she was too caught up in her own pleasure to care.

Stars danced in her eyes, but even in her haze of pleasure she hadn't missed the feel of hands on her skin where they decidedly shouldn't be. She rolled her hips a few more times, riding out his aftershocks.

"Well, that was a new trick," she purred. "Extra limbs, hmmm? Oh, that's very very naughty, Doctor…" With that she lifted her hips and let him slip out of her, uncaring at the mess he left in his wake. She wiped a finger through her folds, turning and stuck her finger in his mouth. "Suck!" she commanded. "Taste yourself on me, Time Lord. And don't think I'm finished with you. We have all night. You paid top price for an all nighter with me. I intend t'make it worth your while…"

The Doctor's eyes glinted wickedly, flashed for a moment with something other; then he was sucking her finger, deliberately slowly swirling his tongue around the single digit. Not if I make it worth your while first, my Lady, he whispered across her mind. And just one night wouldn't be near enough.

The voice in her head was both startling and unnerving. Her eyes darkened in both lust and anger. You did not ask permission to enter my mind, Time Lord she sent with a dark tone to her mental voice. And now I'll have to punish you properly.

Without a word of warning she sat back and turned him over, his arms twisting a bit around themselves. She shoved his knees up so his arse way high in the air and finished her move with a harsh slap to his right cheek. "COUNT!" she shouted, spanking him a second time, harder.

He grunted at the sting of the second slap against his arse, spit out the number two through gritted teeth that were slightly more pointed than normal.

No, they couldn't lose control, couldn't couldn't couldn't… There was no telling what they—he?—would do to her if they did.

Another slap, another counting off of single-digit numbers. Again, and again, and—oh fuck this was turning him on nononono.

With each sting pain mingled with pleasure, had the parts of them that were in higher dimensions writhing, straining to come out and touch and take and feast—

They didn't want that, didn't want to hurt her but they wouldtheywouldtheywould—

She gets him to ten before she's satisfied. She sits on her knees behind him, kneading his arse with her hands to lessen the sting.

"Gooood boooy," she purred, rocking into him and bit. Her fingers explored the rump of his bottom, trailed down the back of his thighs and then took a turn, trailing back up the inside of his thighs.

"Very good boy," she murmured and one hand cupped his bollocks tenderly, kneading each sack slowly. "D'you remember your safe word, Doctor?"

"It's 'red,' my Lady," he gasped out, then groaned, shuddered as she cupped and played with him.

She had no idea what he was, what they could do to her if she pushed them too far; but they needed this, needed her…

Her hand moved to stoke his length. He was a bit soft from his last orgasm, but that was okay… she was going to stroke him hard again. She took her time, slowly running up and down the whole shaft.

"Good…" she groaned out, slipping her index finger into his ass. "Good boy… Use it if this become too much stimulation. I don't want you t'cum, I want you needy. You'll cum when I cum."

The Doctor nodded, moaned an affirmative. He rutted into her hand, sent out one searching tentacle, snatched it back before it could make contact with her again.

They couldn't afford to lose control, but if she kept this up…

"Yes…"

She hummed deeply in the back of her throat, pumping her finger slowly in time with her hand on his cock. "Oh don't hide those beautiful limbs from me," she purred. "You may touch me as you wish…" She rolled her hips into his own, working his length, his entrance, then spat into his hole for lubrication, adding a second finger. "Let me hear you, Time Lord. Let me hear how much you like this…."

Her permission was all the encouragement they needed. They caressed, teased with faint, barely-there touches with their extra limbs—claiming, marking. She's mine, she's mine, she'smineshe'smineshe'smine…

Except she wasn't, not really, but that was of little importance and so they shoved it aside.

At her second command there was a brief moment of confusion (it had been a long time since they'd allowed themselves to fully utilize their other senses, after all) and then it clicked: words. Verbal. Mouth-sounds.

Oh, yes, this particular body could certainly do that.

(Whether or not what they were currently saying was in English was a different matter altogether.)

She continued her slow ministrations to his sex, hand gliding along his length, while the second stretched him. She curled her fingers and… there… that's the spot within that would drive him to the brink.

You're absolutely gorgeous like this, Doctor she sent mentally, her inner awareness twisting around his own, cradling him, caressing… So needy for me. You're true self laid bare before me. I could take you like this. Make you cum a second time with just my hands. Would you like that? D'you want t'soil my bedsheets with your seed?

She knew he wanted to claim her… mark her for himself. Most Time Lords did. It was the fault in their make-up to be drawn to her face, her presence. Her very being. She rocked his entire body with her motions. Let go, Doctor… let me break you and I'll reward you…

Yes. Yesyesyes. … He shuddered at her mental touch, groaned low in his throat. It rose sharply to a keen, an incoherent cry as the second orgasm broke over him, left him spent and trembling and panting hard over soiled sheets.

And it still wasn't enough, would never be enough…

The Lady sighed when he came, allowing him to destroy her bed sheets. She smirked darkly, pulling her fingers from his entrance and using that hand to finally release the handcuffs at his wrist. Gently she helped him to turn and lay on the cleaner sheets to the side, guiding him to lay on his back.

She hovered over him, lips just barely touching his own. "Relax, Doctor," she whispered. "Just rest here and enjoy the afterglow."

With that, she climbed out of bed and slipped into the ensuite bathroom. She took her time cleaning herself, making sure she was ready for round three. There would be a round three… she always saw to that with her clients. He'd be no different.

Snaking back into the room she once again crawled over his naked body, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along his body as she climbed up.

Now, Doctor… how would you like t'claim me, hmm? she projected, sending an image of him pounding her fast and furious, the way she'd taken him not too long ago.

His response was a low growl as he gripped her tight and rolled them over so that he was the one on top. Oh, yes, and I will—but not just yet. His mouth found the hollow of her throat; he rasped his tongue over her warm-copper-salty-human skin and the other part of his nature growled softly as he tasted Time on her as well. I want you writhing beneath me, desperate for my touch.

He moved lower, swirled his tongue around the aerola of her right breast. I want you begging, pleading for me to be inside you; want to drive you insane with need and hear your screams as I take you over and fill you with my seed. One phantom limb ghosted possessively over her womb at those words; then he was concentrating the full extent of his oral fixation on her breast, moved to the other and gave it the same treatment before pressing a trail of kisses down her stomach.

I'd like t'see you try… she purred into his mind allowing him to explore her body. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, arching her body into his mouth. It was very clear to her that he'd never taken advantage of his Rose, and the way he was worshiping her every inch of skin… perhaps this one loved his Rose.

You loved her didn't you? she asked in his mind. You loved her more than the entire universe and you lost her. D'you want me t'be her, Doctor? D'you want me t'be Rose Tyler?

Yes, he said telepathically after a moment. And I never told her, handed her off to a half-ape clone and had him say the words instead. His physical hands—the ones that were visible in the first three dimensions—clenched tightly in the sheets on either side of her as he fought back the sudden wave of anger at his younger, stupid self.

When it subsided, he found he couldn't look at her; focused instead on teasing a patch of pink skin near her navel with lips and tongue. Do you want to be her? he asked her eventually, answering her last question with another one. If you don't it's— He couldn't say all right or okay, because it wouldn't be either. This woman may wear the same face, but she wasn't his Rose.

(It wasn't as if he should have cared about this at all—he was a Time Lord, not a human; was well above those biped primates and wasn't really even all that humanoid at all, just looked like one on the outside.)

(But damn Rassilon's rules and his younger self's reluctance to become closer to her—she always had been this incarnation's weakness [well, one of them, anyway].)

"I was Rose once…" she whispered. "That was my name. But I disowned her when one of you duplicates… a different universe's version of you…"

She couldn't finish her story. It was always too hard to think about that time. And no! NO! This wasn't that version anyway. She could tell his timeline was similar to her original Doctor… he could have been her Doctor. Her Doctor could have turned into him…

"Say my name, Doctor," she relented finally. Tell me who I am Help me remember…

The Doctor lifted his head, met her gaze. "Rose Tyler," he growled softly before crawling his way up her body and kissing her throat, her mouth. Tell me you want me, he whispered in her mind, his mental voice sounding almost desperate. Cos I'm addicted to you and one night won't be enough, no matter how many times I keep running into your face or how often I'll come back here. His hands—all of them, even the ones she couldn't see—were skimming over her body, reverting her to memory.

Then he broke the kiss, moved back down her body and nudged her legs to part for him. "Tell me," he ordered, brown eyes that were suddenly a kaleidoscope of colors (every one he'd ever had) boring into her own golden-brown ones.

I… she did… Oh, she did. She wanted to believe that even for a moment there was a Doctor that loved her. Not just a version of her, but the one in bed right now. A Doctor that needed her. That would do anything for her.

His eyes, his hands, the way he spoke in her mind. It was such a heady experience and she craved him. I don't want you… she projected. I need you. I desire you. I have to have you. Once is never enough. I need you over and over and over.

She hadn't been so candid to a Time Lord since her husband… since that version of him that…

Take me…

Oh, I will. But first… The Doctor shot her a filthy grin, then bent their head. I did tell you I wanted you to beg, wanted to drive you absolutely mad.

Then they were tasting, feasting. Her scent, taste, was intoxicating, addicting and for a moment they wondered why they'd never done this when she'd been traveling with them. Oh. Right. It would have made losing her hurt that much more.

She was putty in his hands, properly letting go of her control of this situation. Somewhere deep in her heart, something shifted and she allowed herself to imagine that she was somewhere else…

Not in a brothel at all with a different Time Lord, but on the TARDIS. In his room maybe. And it was him touching her.

"Tell me all the things you've wanted t'do t'me…" she whispered. Show me how much this means to you… I need to know how you feel…

Tell her? They couldn't tell her; they were far far too busy with other matters—but they could show her, oh yes, they could do that.

Instead of speaking, they sent her impressions, images, all of the secret, erotic fantasies they'd had from when she was traveling with them. (They needed the telepathic contact as much, if not more, than the physical, needed her to understand…)

The Lady threw her head back and moaned softly. It's been so long since anyone's been in my head… she projected, allowing the images to further spur her on. Her hips undulate of their own accord, seeking friction for her own release. She needed to cum… needed him to make her cum… needed him to cum with her, feel him cum with her. Don't stop. Please don't stop.

The Doctor indulged himself in tasting her a few seconds more; then drew back, rose up over her. His mind stayed within hers, careful not to intrude on anything more than surface impressions and feelings—he absolutely did not want to piss off the Wolf that lived in her psyche. (It could end very badly for him if he did.)

Well, humans aren't normally telepathic, he couldn't resist pointing out. Latent psychic abilities, yes. Telepathy, no. If she didn't stop him, he was going to end up rambling on about just what sort of latent psychic abilities some humans possessed and why their brains weren't usually meant for telepathy. Which, really, was not something he wanted to go into at the moment.

So, in order to distract himself from that train of thought, he bent his head to her throat and latched onto the junction where neck met shoulder. (He still wasn't inside her, not yet—she was still mostly in control, after all, and he wanted to hear her beg.)

"'M not human," she moaned out, hips raising to meet his own. She dragged her wet slick along his shaft to point out how ready she was to receive him. Her hands snaked behind his bum, gasping his flesh hard enough to sting, nails digging into him. "Please, Doctor…" she continued in his mind. With that, she opened the flood gates of her mind so he could feel her desperate lust and need for him, the silent plea for him to bring her to her climax.

Well, that was good enough for him, he decided, taking her silent invitation and entering her in one stroke. He was still for a few seconds to allow her body to adjust; then he set a slow rhythm.

She would come to climax; he'd see to that—just not yet.

Relax, my Lady, he whispered inside her mind. Let me take you where you take me.

Allowing him to take the lead, she heaves out deep pants and relaxes back in the bed just before he slips through her wet, tight entrance. She can't help herself… she moans like a tart, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him down so she can bite into his shoulder. As he moved, she met him thrust for thrust, the sound of him in her wet slick was the only sound in the room other than her wanton moans.

Y-y-ou feel fucking incredible! she projected. D'you feel how perfectly we match one another?

The Doctor was silent for a long few seconds, save for a gasp as her teeth sank into his shoulder. Yes, he said at last.

There was a reason for that, but if she hadn't guessed it before now and the Doctor she'd traveled with in the past hadn't told her, then this was certainly not the time to tell her why this tenth body was such a good match for hers. (He hadn't even dared admit it to himself until now, and it wasn't exactly something he wanted to say out loud or telepathically—even to her.)

Three-dimensional hands slid up the curves of her body to rest on either side of her head and find purchase in the sheets as he continued to move within her; extra hands skimmed along the contours of her ribs, back, slid from hips to the outsides of her upper legs.

Say you're mine. The thought slipped out in thought-speak before he could take it back—and once it was out, he didn't want to take it back.

Her eyes snapped open and suddenly she remembered who she was. No… she projected. I'm not yours. I can never be yours.

She rolled them once more, pinning him under her. Her hands on his shoulders pressing him down into the mattress. "I am not Rose," she said aloud, still undulating over him, pressing him deeper and deeper into her tight centre. "I will never be Rose again. I am your fuck toy for the night. That's all I can be." She stilled at that, he was deep inside her, all the way to the hilt. "Can you live with that?"

The Doctor gave himself a mental kick at her words. Stupid, stupid of him to forget that this wasn't his Rose (even though she could have been) and that he was here for only one night, as well as he'd known that when he'd made the arrangements to see her.

She was just a fix and nothing more.

"Yes." The word came out clipped, sounding a tad colder than he'd intended. And right now he didn't want to bottom; he wanted to top her, see and feel her beneath him as she came.

(Being a Sub, even for her, was not in his nature, after all—and his patience and limits had been tried enough for one night.)

His hands found purchase on her skin, dug in as he flipped them over, reversing their positions. He ducked his head, nipped at her clavicle. But you're mine for one night, my Lady—and I intend to make the most of it.

Translations:

Savira'ra, Arkytior: Fuck me, Rose [Gallifreyan]

chan: no [Scottish Gaelic]

Cac!: Shit! [Scottish Gaelic]

Cum air falbh!: Stay away from me! [Scottish Gaelic]

Creachaidh tu mi: You will ruin me [Scottish Gaelic]

A chrostag sguir a dh'obair orm!: You naughty girl, stop teasing me! [Scottish Gaelic]