Trust
"How am I supposed to trust you when you give me no answers, huh?" Liz spun around to face Reddington in the warehouse's little apartment. "I've been down this road with you, time and again. You expect me to trust you based on nothing, and even though you know more about my life than I do, you still won't come up off it!"
"Lizzie, I know this is hard," Reddington said, shaking his head, "and I know you think you're better off away from me, but that could not be further from the truth."
"Why?" she demanded, "you said I'm in danger because of my own past, but you won't tell me why."
A muscle in his cheek twitched and she could see his jaw clench. Some little voice inside her urged her to tread carefully, but she shoved it to the side and stepped up to him.
"I read her diary," Liz spat, "I know you had an affair with my mother and now, after that fiasco at the hospital, Alexander Kirk is going to die in custody knowing that the daughter he thought was his, was some other man's. Yours."
Her eyes teared up and she sank onto the faux window seat. "Why can't you acknowledge me? What difference does it make if I'm yours and the world knows it? I'm in just as much danger for associating and working with you. How could it be any worse?"
"Trust me, it can. And as I said before, I am not your father."
Liz lunged off the seat and grabbed ahold of both his jacket lapels, her grip wrinkling the light linen fabric. "Trust you?! Trust you! Once again, not knowing how or why I should. I hate those words. Never use them with me again." She gave him a fierce shake, still gripping his suit jacket.
A vein in the side of his neck throbbed, he grabbed both her wrists in a vice grip and spun her, bending her over the table and pressing himself into her from behind.
"For the last time, Lizzie," he said, "I am not your father." He said this levelly, but grinded against her for emphasis. "Do you believe me now?"
"Yes," she gasped, mortified.
He leaned back a bit, taking his weight off of her but keeping a tight grip on her wrists.
"I was never involved with your mother. I was not her job, her lover, or her partner. She was my source. That's it. Telling you anything more than that, Lizzie, would put you in danger."
She was just on the verge of stomping his foot, breaking his grip and freeing herself when he stepped away on his own accord. He placed a hand on the hat sitting next to them on the desk and started to move toward the door.
"Trust isn't a bad thing, Lizzie," he said hoarsely. "All it requires is faith in the other person."
Liz turned, panting for breath and struggling for words, and witnessed Raymond Reddington looking flushed and discomfited himself. The sight of him looking flustered gave her the boost of confidence she needed. She stepped over to him once again, as he was standing by the door. Liz gave him a little shove back up against it.
"They were right, weren't they?" she whispered, "all the people who know you, who worked with you. Anslo Garrick, Madeline Pratt. Even Solomon. You are obsessed with me aren't you?"
His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat, and for once in his life, Raymond Reddington was at a loss for words. "My obsession is with the truth. Surely you know that by now, Elizabeth."
"That's not the only thing though is it," she breathed, "you want me don't you?"
"Do not tease me, you know what I do for a living."
"I'm not teasing you, I'm testing a theory. I've seen how you look at me, Raymond. How you hold me, the things you do for me."
She pressed herself against him and circled her arms around his waist. The look he gave her was pained.
"Lizzie, no," he urged repressively, shaking his head, "don't do this."
Curious now, Liz leaned up, pressing her lips briefly to his, barely a touch but enough to send the butterflies sailing around her stomach and making her breath hitch. She opened her eyes to see his heavy-lidded ones closed, his pale lashes against his cheeks. When he opened his again they were dark, unfocused and there was a glint of arousal there. His mouth worked and his hand once again found her arm and pinned it to her side. He spun her quickly, swapping their positions and urging her lips to part with the tip of his tongue, then pulled back again when a thought occurred to him.
"That thrice-cursed husband of yours better not be anywhere close by."
That brought her sharply back to reality, like climbing a tree only to slip out of it and hit the ground hard. It took her breath away for a moment, but when she finally found her voice it sounded hollow.
"He left," she said. "He's gone."
Raymond had stepped away from her, leaving her rubbing her scar and chewing the pink flesh of her lip.
"Is that what's wrong?" he asked, deeply suspecting that Tom was not out of her life for good.
"No," she snapped, "that's not it at all. We fought and he left. He did something stupid that endangered Agnes, and he admitted that him just impulsively moving in with a team was not in her best interest. But more than anything, we decided that we are not in the same place in life and he has answers of his own that he has to look for elsewhere. So we cried together and I wished him well, but… he and I were never…" she gestured in frustration with her hands trying to think of the word.
"Compatible," he supplied.
"Yeah! No, we weren't, "she smiled ruefully, "but more than that, the fantasy I had that I wanted him to fulfill, that was asking too much."
She played idly with the hem of her shirt. "I still never married him. I guess that was a good thing, because the great relationship we had in the beginning, wasn't even real."
Liz stood there, still backed against the door and watched as Reddington slowly came to stand in front of her again. He swept a lock of hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear. He cupped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted her face up to his.
"Do you trust me, Lizzie?"
"Yes, in spite of everything, because you always save me no matter what. Yes, I do. It just frustrates me when you don't tell me things."
With that, he dipped his mouth to hers and claimed it again, this time tasting and savoring the sweet flavor of her. His hands ghosted down her arms and up again, before one circled her waist and the other cupped the back of her head so he could deepen the kiss.
Agnes whimpering brought them both back to reality and they broke apart. Liz stepped over to check on her in the crib. The pacifier had popped out of her mouth and she lost it, waking just enough to fuss at the absence of it. Liz popped it back in Agnes's mouth and was about to turn when she felt Reddington behind her. He slipped one hand under her shirt and pulled her back flush against him.
"Let's take this somewhere else."
He steered Liz through the doorway to the bedroom and straight over to the bed. "How about a little lesson in trust, hm?"
Liz looked at him questioningly. Reddington merely smiled. "Take off your clothes, Lizzie. Make it nice and slow, sweetheart, and then get up on the bed."
Feeling as though Raymond issued her a challenge, Lizzie smirked back and started to ease the buttons of her shirt through the holes and then let it slide off her shoulders and drop to the floor. Her pants hit the floor shortly thereafter. Standing in only her bra and panties, she turned her back to Raymond and unhooked the bra, letting it fall to the floor. She hooked her thumbs around the sides of her panties and slowly eased them down, giving him a full view of her bottom while she was bent over.
She didn't hear him approach, but yelped when he delivered a sharp smack to her rump. She straightened up quickly, rubbing a hand over her left cheek while Red chuckled. "Up on the bed," he told her. Feeling a little rebellious, Lizzie climbed up on hands and knees, wiggling her backside at him. Smack, smack! Another couple of swats, and she turned and dropped her butt onto the covers so he could not do it again. Her little chin tilted up in defiance and Red smiled amusedly. "Problem, sweetheart?"
"Yawn," she said, smarting off. "I thought I was supposed to be getting a lesson…?"
"Keep that up," Reddington winked. "I've got more for you where that came from."
With that, he began pulling off his belt and circled it around his fist. Lizzie was glad she had dropped her bottom to the bed, as she was unsure what he had planned. He took the belt and set it beside Lizzie, then toed off his shoes and stripped out of his vest and Oxford. He stood before her in an undershirt and his pants and socks, looking casually rumpled and downright sexy.
Red reached for the belt again and looped it around both Liz's wrists, making sure the insides of her wrists were turned inward to face each other. He pulled the belt through the loop and used the length of the belt to steer her onto all fours. Her bottom still had pink handprints from his previous attentions. He trailed his fingertips over the spots and placed a gentle kiss on each. Red then stepped forward, until his midsection was flush with her firm round ass. With one hand on the belt, he used the other to reach forward and rub right over her sensitive nub. She groaned and tried to bump herself against his hand, but Reddington only continued his ministrations slowly. He traced slow, lazy circles over her clit, pausing only to slide his fingers in and out of her wet warmth. Despite the slow tempo, Lizzie started bumping and rubbing against his hand. Sensing that she was near the end, Red moved back to her clit and started circling again, his fingers slick with her essence. Going quicker and firmer, Reddington grinned when she suddenly went still, clenching around his fingers and groaning loudly.
He made short work of his pants, merely unzipped and released himself from his shorts underneath. He placed the tip of his penis right at her entrance and slid slowly in, hissing in pleasure at the slick, tight channel. Liz felt the pressure of him stretching her walls. She yearned to touch herself again, still coming down from her climax, but the belt kept her hands in check. Frustrated as he resumed his slow, torturous tempo, Liz whimpered and started wiggling again, as if trying to impale herself on him.
"I don't think so," Reddington smiled, and grasped a handful of her hair with the hand that wasn't gripping the belt. Using both for leverage, he started pulsing inside her with harder, quicker strokes. Lizzie tried bucking against him, matching his pace and pressure. It was nearly his undoing as well as hers. The slap of their bodies together and the throbbing rhythm of them moving together as one had Lizzie gasping, Reddington's thick penis gliding and slipping over her G-spot finally tipped her over the edge. "Ahhhh! Raymond please…please don't stop. God!"
But Reddington had no intention of stopping. His movements became more erratic, jerking and slamming himself into her at an uneven pace. He felt how close he was and pushed all the way into her as he felt the telltale pulsing right before he came.
Now spent, Reddington dropped the belt, leaned forward and trailed kisses up her back, sliding his hands down to cup her breasts and marvel at the fullness of them in his hands. He then trailed his hands all over her body, as if mapping his territory, then resting them for a moment on her hips, he pulled out of her and loosened the belt off of her wrists.
She landed on the bed face down, flushed and sweaty. Reddington gathered her close and held her, kissing her gently and murmuring sweet words. "Did you enjoy that, sweetheart?" He asked out of concern, thinking that maybe he should have been softer or taken more time. She was shaking slightly and looked a little dazed.
"Yeah," she said, tremulously. "I've just…never had it rough."
She didn't want to mention Tom's name so soon after they had sex, but the guy had always treated her like she was some fragile, delicate flower. This was new.
"I see," said Red. "Tell you what Lizzie, I'll be back in a minute and then we can talk." True to his word, Reddington returned moments later with a small ice pack and a glass of water. "Here, have a few sips of this and then roll over."
Liz eyed the ice suspiciously. She knew it would help with the swelling, but at the same time the last thing she wanted on her bum was something cold. "If you had arnica gel, I could use that and a cool cloth instead, but this is the best we've got."
Liz took the proffered water, drank it down about halfway and then reluctantly laid down again so Reddington could place the icepack on her swollen red bottom. She hissed aloud as the cold came in contact with her skin and her body erupted into gooseflesh.
"Easy now," Reddington said. "I have to admit, this is not something I do the first time with someone. How are you feeling right now?"
"A little out of it, honestly. Sore. Cold. Kind of emotional and weepy, I don't know how to describe it. There are so many feelings…" And she was desperately wanting to cling to him, but she couldn't say it.
Reddington removed the ice pack, pulled up a woven throw from the end of the bed and wrapped her in it. "There we are," he said, "this should help. 100% alpaca, from South America. I got it from a drug lord who—" she wriggled over to his lap and curled up there, effectively cutting off his story and causing him to wrap his arms around her.
"There, sweetheart, there."
"Just hold me, please?"
"Of course, love. I've got you."
He sat there with her cuddling in his lap, stroking her hair and whispering to her. The emotions had welled up during her orgasm and then bottomed out shortly thereafter. His words were a balm, his sweetness right now threatened to break her down. Her shaking finally subsided and she was left feeling drained. Reddington seemed to know this, and after a few moments, suggested that they lie down. Lizzie scooted up to the pillows and lay facing Red, who had followed suit. He tucked the throw around her and swept her hair back away from her face.
"What is wrong with me?" she wondered aloud, tears threatening to spill over.
"Nothing sweetheart, not a thing. What you're feeling right now is commonly called sub-drop. It can hit hours or days after the euphoria you get during sex or sexual play. That euphoria is known as sub-space. Sub-drop is simply the fallout afterwards. It's perfectly normal. And if you'll pardon the expression, I had you pegged as a submissive. It actually explains a lot about you. Now the real question is: nap or bath?"