The moment she stepped in stride alongside him, he knew. Without asking, without making eye contact, he knew. Her person radiated her intent, her hand perched on the hilt of her sword just so and her gait ever so slightly measured, predatory in its existence.

Things had changed. Their hours were so similar that it wasn't unlike them to leave Headquarters after dark and within moments of each other. They were the two highest ranking officers in the country, afterall. The government hadn't rewarded either of them with the promotion they desired and longed for, but they were still consulted on everyday affairs. And his personal affairs had suffered because of it. Dinner was waiting for him and had been served with love and devotion. No less than he'd expect from Riza. Her reassignment had changed things and his love for her hadn't ever dwindled. It would be the first time they had an evening together in over a month. And now, it seemed even that was in jeopardy for the woman walking next to him silently.

His heart was beating double time in a strange, almost quixotic, mixture of trepidation and anticipation. His palms were sweaty under his gloves. His mouth was dry and felt about the same as a cotton ball. He didn't dare ask or try to start a conversation. He was praying and hoping that she changed her course and had only fallen in step in some sadistic form of entertainment at his expense.

"You mentioned earlier that you had an engagement, did you not?" her thick, deep voice asked smoothly.

His heart fell to about his ankles, his body heavy and leaden, "Yes."

So that was it. She'd overheard his excuse to a councilman about his semi-early departure from the meeting, and she'd gotten it in her head to delay him a bit longer. It was a game, something she did when she was bored and needed her smile refreshed. There wasn't another word between them, no indication of her intent beyond what he could feel all the way down to his boots. The last steps of a stairwell led them into the underground garage in which his car was parked. A brick had formed in his gut, his skin trembling with the knowledge of what was going to happen.

It had been several weeks, no – closer to a month, since the last time he'd been in this situation. Each time, he swore it wouldn't and couldn't happen again. They were colleagues and any interaction between them had to remain professional. She was the head of the northern and western armies, and he was in command of the southern and eastern masses. Their cooperation was vital to the country's survival. And each time he thought about leaving, about firmly and flat-out telling her that this doomed liason had to stop, she made his eyes roll back into his head.

His hand could barely hold onto the key when he pressed it into the door lock, reached for the handle and opened it. The moment the door was open, he felt her lithe body behind his, invading every inch of his personal space. Her hand reached around and grasped at his front, cupping his flaccid cock in her palm through his pants. Just the pressure made him exhale deep through his nose. If he forced the sensations away, made sure to not react, she might second-guess herself enough to let well enough alone. She knew her talents, her needs and wants, and she used it against him. He was unwilling and yet his body was thrumming as she slowly tightened and methodically loosened her grip around his groin. His eyes slid closed, his body warming while his gut was cold with dread.

He turned to face her, those ocean-blue eyes and free-flowing blonde hair inches from his face. Her hand never left its target and he fought with every fiber in his body to ignore the perfectly-timed motions she was applying.

"I have to go," he whispered.

"It can wait."

"I...I can't tonight. Riza's waiting for me and I told...I told her I would be there by 8:30," his breathed hitched when she applied more pressure.

"So? What's another ten minutes?"

The insult was blatant, the implication clear. Indignation took over for a brief moment, "I can't—it's not that quick," his voice lost its edge when she leaned forward and ignored his protest to run her tongue around the shell of his ear. His breath quivered and his shoulder came up reflexively to protect the sensitive flesh.

Her invasion wasn't over. She had pressed her chin just so and it kept him from blocking her access to his ear. She drew the lobe between her teeth, licking at it, and kept rhythmically massaging his cock which had taken a definitive interest in the attention. His breath fell out of him in a stuttering, uneven flow. Using her leverage, she forced him to sit in the seat and released her hold of his earlobe to take her white glove off her free hand by her teeth. The surprisingly smooth and silken skin of her palm and fingers wrapped around his neck. His body sank into the seat. Mouth open in a little "o" of overwhelmed sensations, he couldn't find words to argue when her mouth moved down to the fly of his pants. His eyes staring straight ahead, brain slowly losing the battle for blood flow, he inhaled sharply when her mouth sucked his half-erect cock into the warm cavern, laving the head with her tongue. Idly noticing that she hadn't even gotten into the car, he tried to sit up, to stop her and close the door. If he could do that, he could deal with the arising situation on his own and be free from the shame. He could drive away and leave her there second-guessing herself.

She hummed and the vibrations ran along his body like electricity. The back of his skull thunked against the headrest, his eyes closing. Then it was done, her mouth off his cock and he hated his body for trying to follow her with his hips.

She kissed him, her hand still wrapped around his neck. He refused her anything more than a brushing of lips. Her teeth and his met. His determination to not let her win had faded, but he wasn't about to give in anymore than he already had.

"See? It's just easier," she cooed against his ear. Her breath was hot and cloying.

"I have to go," he whimpered.

"No, you don't."

"Yes..."

The last bit of his fight was deflected when she doubled over again to envelope his cock fully in her mouth. God help him, he gasped when the head of it touched the back of her throat. Overwhelming warmth and suction that almost made him whimper. And when she pulled back, he could feel that vacuum intensify and it dragged a ragged breath from his lungs. A shock that made his jaw drop when her tongue played with the slit, lapping at the precome that had beaded.

She pulled off again to run her tongue over his lips. His heart was pounding behind his chest, his body brought to the point of surrender. She never looked him in the eyes and truthfully she didn't need to. His body was shivering. His breaths were shallow and harsh. His eyes had glazed over. Latching onto his earlobe again, he could feel her smile against the column of his neck.

He hated himself, "Okay...we'll finish it."

Like a magnet repelled, she was off him and nonchalantly opened the door to the backseat. It took some coordination on his part to pry himself from the driver's seat. His body was falling, his brain unwilling and unable to fight any more than it already had. He heard the metallic ting of her sword as she dumped it to the floorboards. Hunched over, he braced his hands on his knees and the evidence of her talent was staring him in the face.

Giving one glance around the abandoned parking garage, his defeated body clambered into the backseat with her and the moment the doors closed he felt his mind go blank. She had already removed her uniform pants, the jacket remaining on. Lifting his ass from the seat, he lowered his pants to his ankles and it was a rush to feel bare skin. His hands moved of their own volition and found the swell of her breasts beneath stiff cotton. She straddled him and was painfully doubled over for the roof of the car. Her nails dug into the soft skin of his neck, grabbing him like life itself.

His hand at the base of his cock, he guided it to the folds of her warmth, sighing to feel the wetness there. Not looking up at her while their foreheads met, he fumbled to drive himself into her and damn her she was rocking and making his task that much harder. The pressure against the head of his cock made him hiss and clench his jaw, unable to plunge into her velvety center. Frustrated, he finally grabbed her hips by the jut of the bone and lined up. He heard her gasp when he lifted his hips to invade her. Her nails dug in deeper and he kept his chin touching his chest with eyes welded shut.

If he looked up, he would see that smirk on her face as she got what she wanted. He would see her victory even as he fought to retain his moan at her tightness. Their hips clashed as each tried to vie for dominance in the rhythm. Each thrust sent him deeper, but not deep enough to erase the pain. The angle was wrong, the motions weren't matched. It was nothing more than desperation; the desire to relieve the pressure forming in his groin and the pain in his heart that grew stronger with each thrust. She had won him over and he'd let her do it. His anger made him grab at her waist, forcing her to match his pace and rolling her hips in time with each of his pained motions. Fingers grabbed so desperately that he felt bone underneath soft skin. He slid down, the backseat unforgiving against the base of his neck, and felt the bone-melting warmth of her around his entire cock. Her hands were against his shoulders, one running up and down his neck and dragging its nails. The pain reiterated the pleasure. She shifted and it was enough to drive him insane when she clenched around him, her own body quivering in exertion and needy desire. His body felt like a live wire had just been turned on inside and he cursed because he couldn't just give in.

Without care, without tenderness, he pulled out just barely in time to see his own come spill onto his stomach. Her breaths matched his. She sat back onto his hips and each breath washed over his face. Her hand curled under his chin and she tilted his head back to consume his mouth with her own. He didn't have the energy nor the will to fight it and instead just remained motionless as she took what she wanted.

His stomach was somersaulting, his body had broken out into a cold sweat. He swallowed hard, pushing down the bile that wanted to come up.

She rolled off him and casually reached for her uniform pants. Sliding them back on, she took a moment to recline in the backseat and shot him a glance. She was searching his profiled face and he couldn't look at her. Instead his gaze remained fixated on some oddity on the front dashboard.

"If you hadn't resisted, it would've been quicker," she smirked.

She lifted her hips to button the final closure on her pants before opening the door and swinging her legs out. Standing, she reattached her sword to her belt. The door closed and rocked the car.

Sitting there, he regained control of his breathing. He felt his heart slow. The high faded away and blood slowly started to make its way back to his brain. His jaw tightened and he finally looked in her direction as she sauntered back across the dimly lit garage. Never did she look back at him, never did she give him one shred of decency to hold to.

Fire and snow only made a mess when they got tangled with each other. He and the North Wall of Briggs were no different.