Inspired by this tumblr prompt: "Bond is used to being able to drive women wild with desire, turn them on with just a look and drive them to screaming orgasms within minutes. Then he & M finally act on their feelings, and the sex is great but it takes more foreplay than he's used to, she's not as effusively noisy, it takes longer to make her come and sometimes she just doesn't. M gently breaks it to him that at least some of those women were faking it & he has to re-learn how to be good in bed. Luckily, he has a good teacher.."
His hips began to move faster and his movements became more erratic, a telltale sign that he was close. She held on to him a little bit tighter, dug her nails into his shoulder the way he liked.
Then, the piece de resistance. She gave a soft breathy moan in his ear, as if he was filling her to the absolute brink and she couldn't stand it anymore.
"Yes…"
He came with a guttural shout of something that might have been her name, but his face was buried in her neck so she couldn't really tell. She decided a long time ago that she preferred not knowing either way.
The first time he'd taken her, in her office, he moaned something that sounded too much like her name and she slapped him soundly. It was her alias, but she threatened to have him shot nonetheless and he didn't doubt she meant it. She knew that he still whispered it under his breath when they were alone sometimes, though she couldn't decide if he thought she couldn't hear him or if he genuinely forgot. Cheeky bugger. It was more than likely the first.
When his hips finally stopped rutting and his breathing slowed, he registered one of her hands stroking circles on his back while the fingertips of the other resting softly on the nape of his neck. She hummed softly and he winced although he knew she couldn't see him.
"You didn't… did you?"
"No." She kissed his temple. "But I was entertained just the same."
He sighed and gently pulled out of her carefully rolling off to the side. He huffed and put his hand over his forehead as she pulled the sheet over her chest and reached over to the nightstand where her scotch was ready and waiting for her.
"Sorry. Was I supposed to scream and shout and confess my undying love for you?"
"Well maybe not the last bit, but… yes something like that."
"Really, James. We've been through this."
"Well… just a little more… excitement. I don't know… just… more. Moaning or something… I don't know… I mean could you at least look like you enjoy it instead of just lying there like… I don't know. I mean I normally don't have this problem."
"There's a first time for everything."
"Yeah, but this isn't exactly the first time, is it?"
"I did tell you I'm not very vocal."
"Well that's what they all say. But... look at me! I'm me! I'm James bloody Bond for fucks sake!"
"And?"
"And? And this isn't supposed to happen to me. I'm the one person in the world this doesn't happen to." He paused and held up a finger. "No. This is not gonna turn into you psychoanalyzing me. We are not at HQ anymore."
She shrugged. "I wouldn't dream of it."
"I just don't get it. I'm me. I'm good. Fuck, I'm the best! Women come at the mention of my name. Why should you be so bloody different?!"
M shrugged at this. "Maybe I'm not as different as you think. Maybe I'm just the first one who's been honest with you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Have you ever stopped to consider that some of those women might have put on a bit of a show for you, just as you did for them?"
"Meaning?"
"That every body works differently. Realistically, you wouldn't have the very same effect on every woman you encounter. At some point or another, you probably ran into several of me. It's possible they just…" she shrugged. "…exaggerated a bit."
His mouth fell open and his brows knit together. "What are you saying- they faked it?"
"Well not all of them, no. I'm sure a fair few of them had a genuinely pleasant time. But surely you know women do that from time to time. I'm afraid even the infamous James Bond isn't immune to the oldest trick in the book. It's far more convenient than the headache excuse. We women can be quite the actresses when we need to be. Although we wouldn't have to go to such lengths if you men would just learn to take a simple no for an answer."
She watched in exasperation as he leapt out of bed in a huff. He began to pace back and forth on the carpet with his arms folded, tossing a sullen glare in her direction on occasion as if he believed it would have some real effect on her.
"I happen to do this for a living you know. I've made a career out of this. I know this game. Hell, I'm surprised you even remember how to go about it all." He scoffed. "Faked it. Please. Your problem is your body's just been out of the game too long. I don't think there's an orgasm left in you."
"Enough!" She cut him off with one of her famous ice queen glares. "You asked me a question. I gave you an answer. Don't sulk about like some school boy just because it wasn't the answer you wanted to hear."
She took another sip of her scotch and eyed him carefully over the rim of her glass. He paced back and forth across the floor, running a hand through his hair in frustration. She knew for sure he'd wear a hole in her good carpet if he didn't sit down soon.
She sighed. "James." He kept pacing. "James." She repeated his name louder this time. He stopped to look at her. "Please." She pulled back the duvet just a bit, and he took the silent invitation, slipping in beside her with a small huff.
They sat in silence for a few more moments and she sipped her scotch as she mulled a few things over in her head. She knew James to have a short fuse from time to time and she could understand why he would be upset about something like this given his outstanding track record in the bedroom. But there was something about the way he looked at her. She knew him well enough and she'd certainly known him long enough to know that there was more to it than he was letting on.
"Why is this upsetting you so much?"
He sighed. "I just... I'd rather not discuss it further."
"I know this is about more than the sex. There's something else, isn't there?"
"Sorry. Is this us not discussing it? Because it feels like discussion."
"James," she warned.
"I said leave it!" He threw the duvet off and made to get out of bed but the moment his feet hit the carpet, he froze. He froze and he sighed.
He stayed silent for a few moments and she let him.
She's almost given up hope of him saying anything at all when he murmured one simple word.
"You."
