First Quake
Summary: During a haze, a naïve woman is set up to spend the night with Leo. She has no intention of following through, but Leo is Dominate for a reason. She's about to find out exactly how dangerous it is to be near the epicenter of an Earthquake.
Rating: MA (graphic sexual content) (If this offends you, please don't read further. Others enjoy this kind of subject matter and it's not right to deny them a sexy turtle) ;)
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AN: HUGE THANK YOU TO MY SHELLING AWESOME PATRONS: ALEXLUKE, GIRAFFECHAN, and RAP BEAR!
AN2: This story is the brainchild of AlexLuke. Her tier granted her the opportunity to have a story written and this is the finished product. Thanks to her, everyone gets to have this little nugget that wouldn't have been written without her. So if you like this story, be sure to give a HUGE shout out to her! :D
AN3: AlexLuke has given me another idea to work on and is currently being uploaded and edited via my patrons. Once it has their approval, it will be uploaded via fanfiction sites. Also, I will be conducting polls on the next Dominate Leo fic to be written, so if you want your voice heard, come join me over at PATRE ON. Link available in my profile. :D Always thrilled to hear from my readers and get feedback on what YOU want to see!
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Objective: Tremors
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She stared at the key in her hand, heart strangely absent from her ears, throat, or chest. She was pretty sure she was dead. If not, then she was doing a fantastic impression.
Her hands were shaking, so she knew she was still alive, though at the moment, she could keel over and die from fright.
At nineteen and in her freshman year of college, she immediately promised herself to live a little. Growing up with strict parents and being an only child, she had been sheltered in many aspects. Now she was in college, it was time to stretch those wings and see where the wind took her.
Only she didn't expect her first flight to lead to a hotel room.
Not just any hotel room, but the location of her haze to enter the sorority of her dreams.
When Christi, the queen bee of the sorority, offered a bowl filled with nondescript white envelopes to the pledges, it had seemed as if it was going to be a routine game of scavenger hunt combined with something gross like a horrific version of fear factor.
After sleeping all night in a cemetery, sneaking into the men's locker room and stealing person items from lockers, and enduring a three day marathon of movies, junk food, and endless mani-pedis, the final test had weeded out the undesirables.
Now only eight pledges remained, each given an envelope.
In it, a key, with a hotel room number, time, and date. And the instructions that after they enjoyed a night of paid entertainment, their 'date' would give them a code phrase, which they would then return to their sisters-to-be to earn a prestigious place among the estrogen hive.
The other girls took to the idea with excitement, tittering about the salaciousness of spending the night with a paid gigolo. They primped and strutted before and after their scheduled date, preening and recounting lurid details to everyone who wanted to hear the tale upon their return the next morning.
The stories didn't appeal to her though. Nor the thought of spending a night of passion with a complete stranger.
Hopefully her escort would be understanding, and give her the needed password without engaging in anything physical.
She hoped.
If not, she had mace in her purse and a sharp, groin seeking kneecap.
Prestigious the school it may be, but she wasn't going to sacrifice her dignity just to get into a sorority. She drew the line at prostituting herself. Course, she wouldn't begrudge the guy who was meeting her. She wasn't one to judge. She didn't know his circumstances.
Hand shaking, she fumbled the key in the lock. The room was dark save for a single light above the small stove in the kitchenette. It gave the room a dark, foreboding ambience.
Why did she suddenly feel like she was in a horror movie about to be murdered?
And given the circumstances to why she was there, it could easily take such a turn.
Not wanting to give a romantic atmosphere, she turned on two more lamps and went to the bedroom. She turned on the light, finding the closet standing empty and no one hiding under the bed. The bathroom was also brightly lit and (thankfully) unoccupied.
Well, if he was showing up here with the idea of getting laid in a soft, romantic atmosphere, he was sadly mistaken!
There was to be no romance.
No Sir-ree-Bob.
She wasn't doing anything!
She came back into the main room, intent on seeing there were any more lights she could turn on, when a shadow grew and filled the room.
A strangled scream erupted, causing her to fall back against the wall, eyes wide, one hand frantically searching for her mace.
A mountain occupied the far side of the room next to the sliding glass door. The curtain flickered slightly from a breeze. Blue eyes glittered behind a mask of black.
"You agree to my terms?" The resonating vibration came from the very center of the Earth. The world trembled with the timbre.
She squeaked, pressed into the wall, unblinkingly.
It was one of those mutants from the news a few months ago! The ones introduced as being responsible for stopping an alien invasion (that in itself, UNREAL) and now, right in front of her, in the flesh.
At first she dismissed the mutants, believing them to be actors in rubber suits, but as they emoted to the audience, she realized they weren't bulky rubber suits and animatronics.
They were real.
He was real!
And standing a good dozen feet away.
He was even larger and more intimating in person.
"You're…. one.. of… them?" she managed to grind out over a dry, narrow throat.
The looming figure seemed to shrink back slightly Though his eyes were banded in black, matching the gauntlets on his forearms and the tight black pants he wore, she read his change in demeanor.
"My apologies, ma'am," he said in an repentant tone. "I must have gotten the wrong room."
"One fourteen?" she blurted automatically.
She didn't know. She was running on autopilot.
He paused in his exodus and turned in slow motion, a predator sizing up weak and helpless prey.
"Yes," he muttered, eyes narrowing into slits. He stood, eyeing her closely, arms folding across his massive chest. "Am I correct in assuming you were not made aware of this arrangement?"
She gulped.
"No. Well, sort of. Yes."
He tilted his head in a way that suggested he could see through her. It was unnerving. She fidgeted, adverting her gaze lest he mistake her eye contact as challenge.
"If you were made aware, then you knew I would be here," he said evenly.
Fearing he was angry and thus want to hurt her for causing him to be annoyed, she hastily explained.
"I was told to spend the night with a paid stranger and in the morning, you had a password so I can get into the sorority," she blurted out in a rush, cheeks heating.
The turtle stared at her. His icy gaze raked over her features. It made her even more self conscious.
"That is not the arrangement," he said at last.
"Well good," she said, putting on a false front of confidence. "Because I don't plan on doing anything with you." Realizing she sounded harsh and dismissive, and possibly even a little discriminatory, she hastily added "It's not because of who you are or what you do. It's just… I'm not that kind of girl. I was raised to have respect for myself and not jump into bed with any dick with a pulse."
Her cheeks flamed as lava. She wasn't use to being so assertive or crude.
"I do not bed those who are unwilling, so you needn't worry about being taken advantage of," he said gruffly.
His arms flexed, the muscles bulging, hinting to the power and danger they possessed.
Her mouth went dry. He could easily overpower her. She would be easy prey since she couldn't put up much of a fight.
And yet, here she was… stuck in a hotel room with a strange man. Err, turtle. A large, imposing, strong male, who could easily overwhelm her and take advantage. She was an idiot.
Screwing up her face, she muttered to herself, "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"
All those years of being told by her mother on how to keep herself safe from being assaulted, and she just dumbly walked into the gravest of rape traps. How could she be so naïve? So stupid? So utterly clueless?
There were no guarantees an escort wouldn't turn out to be a serial rapist. It's not like they were vetted or anything. They had pimps for crying out loud!
Though as she eyed him studiously, she doubted he had a pimp who would smack him around to keep him in line. If anything, he'd beat up the pimp!
He remained by the door, immobile as a jade statute. Lines and muscle carved out of stone, immovable, cold, able to cause destruction if he so desired. He could quake, rendering the Earth to his will, and swallowing her up into a pit of no escape.
She was helpless to stop him. Powerless to command him. His will would not be stopped by her feeble protests, nor could she outmatch him in strength.
But he exuded no such violence toward her.
If anything, he remained aloof. Distant. Impassive. Staring at her as if trying to figure out what made her tick. A case study for observation, not unlike the expression she wore while studying.
His silence was unnerving.
"So, not to be rude," she started lamely, "but since we're not going to do anything, can you just give me the password and then you can leave?"
His mouth quirked in open amusement.
"You don't want to be pleasured?"
His voice was more surprised than condescending.
"Hardly," she scoffed, squaring her shoulders and mustering up a façade of courage.
"I find that hard to believe," he added, eyeing her with cool blue criticism.
"Oh, know how to make a girl happy, do you?" she snorted.
"Yes," he said, purring as a panther. She shivered at the pitch. "Though, as I said, I do not bed those who are unwilling."
"Have a lot of those?" she replied, more harshly than intended.
She immediately regretted her words. His look was piercing. Icy. Cutting her through with a frozen razor's edge. It gave her a frisson of fear.
It was also unbelievably hot.
"Never," he admitted with a resonating sound she felt in her chest.
And her panties. They were distinctly damp.
"Sorry," she muttered, twiddling her fingers idly to distract herself. "Just, never met a person who sold themselves."
"I do not sell myself," he said curtly.
"Sorry, didn't mean it that way," she blurted, blushing down to her roots. She adverted her gaze, fumbling over her words, "I just mean… I've never met anyone who…you know… enjoyed one night stands."
"Why did you agree to keep this appointment if you harbor such feelings?" he asked.
"It's a set up by the sorority I want to join," she explained. "We go through hazing rituals where the potential candidates are put through tests to see if they're worthy of joining the group. This was the final test. Spend the night with a male escort. I wasn't going to do that. I'm not selling myself to get a golden ticket into the Alpha Alpha Ho Club, so I was going to appeal to you to give me the password."
He extracted a small white envelope from the brace on his left arm. He glided silently across the room, long stride eating up the distance. She flinched at his speed and size as he threw her into his imposing shadow. Her heart leapt into her throat fearing what he was about to do.
"I don't take advantage of women," he said in a long, drawn breath that made her bones rattle and dampness bloom between her legs.
He was so close, all he had to do was take one step, forcing her to mirror his action, and brace his arms on the wall behind her, effectively trapping her. Despite the danger that made her hair stand on end, there was also a sense of arousal that made her nipples bud in answer to this strange and sexy male. She couldn't miss the unique scent he exuded. It was warm and Earthy, and made her brain go foggy.
Masculinity.
That's what she detected. A true, vibrant, virile male, displaying his dominance but making no move to overcome her. Her legs were weak and her chest felt too tight. Or maybe it was her bra?
"If a woman does not wish to experience a night of passion, then that is her choice," he continued, placing the cool white envelope in her shaking hand. "I don't judge one based upon their choices."
She tucked the envelope into her purse, right next to her can of mace. She needn't be such a bitch to him. He had made no move to hurt or overpower her. Even standing before her, so close she could sense his incredible heat, he made no untoward movement or offensive comment.
Heart pounding in her ears, she took in his features. Pale blue eyes glittered behind a black mask. Strong jaw. Broad shoulders accented by a shell rising upon his back. Muscular arms, with thick cords and bundled muscle. Hardened chest, sculpted into granite abs with a tapered waist perfect to trap between the thighs.
A throb ached between her legs at the thought.
Lower her gaze traveled, taking in the black pants, so tight, they left nothing to the imagination. His legs were carved marble and the prominence between his legs was promise of passion and sex, all protected behind a shield of black.
Her bra must have shrunk in the wash! It was far too tight all of a sudden!
Needing distraction from his magnetism, and that damnable scent that was keeping her mind muddled, she moved away. She remained on edge, expecting him to follow her or get her cornered, but he merely turned to face her, eyes narrowed into icy slivers as he tracked her pacing the main room.
It took three tries to get her throat wet enough to speak.
"So don't force women and promise them a night of passion, huh? What's the catch?"
He smirked, eyes tracking her in a manner that made her belly do a strange little flop. Not the kind that meant eminent danger, but the kind normally associated with liking a boy and wanting to sample the uniqueness of the male anatomy. Hastily she redirected her gaze.
"I'm dominant if you must know," he rumbled, causing the air to stir heatedly.
She faltered. Hairs along her arms rose up. Cheeks flamed with instant lust, brain kicking into overdrive and providing all kinds of steamy, provocative things that should have made her ashamed!
Should have.
Facing him, frozen into place by his sinful gaze, she sputtered, brain attempting to wrap around the concept and her belly performing strange back flips.
"You're serious? Like, fifty shades of black and blue?"
He chuckled, a rumbling noise from deep within the earth. The best way she could describe the sound, (and the sensation that crawled along her skin and clenched her lower region,) was the laughter of an earthquake.
"I don't abuse," he said huskily. "If you are disobedient, I'll punish you accordingly, either a spanking or withholding your orgasm."
"Sounds like a control freak to me," she blurted, voice a little too high. Her imagination was providing prohibited and debauched fantasies that were surely to get her arrested for even entertaining them!
"I prefer the romance of submission," he put in, still tracking her movements.
"Romance in submission? What a load of bullshit!" she barked incredulously.
"Would you like a demonstration?" he asked smoothly.
She paused. Oh damn! He was good. Cornered her with that one!
She should have been appalled by the suggestion, but there was a part of her, (the part the fluttered in her tummy and made her lower half feel wet and overheated,) that was a teensy wee bit curious.
Okay, a LOT curious.
He moved, gliding soundlessly across the room, his actions mesmerizing, hypnotic, dangerous.
"Just one kiss?" he asked tentatively. "One little kiss and you can tell me if there is romance in submission."
She swallowed hard, mouth dry, panties damp. She wanted to bellow and rage and scream negative things and storm out of the room in a righteous, heated fury and feminine retribution. Heart hammering in her chest, she took a deep breath, ready to deliver her blistering diatribe.
"Okay," she said, lips betraying her rational mind. "One kiss."
Smug lips drew back in a quirky expression.
"Sure you want to risk it? You may be spoiled for any future male."
Her mouth fell open. What a rude, arrogant man…turtle, he was! Why the sheer nerve of him! The snarky, self absorbed man… turtle.
"Boastful braggart," she spat, half poisonous.
She was going to add several scathing remarks about his parentage when his arms looped her waist and drew her to him. Her purse fell from her lax hand. Inhaling sharply, eyes wide, lips parted, she found herself held firmly in strong arms, his masculine chest hard beneath her fingertips.
He stared down at her, eyes cold enough to burn her soul. A finger caressed her cheek, stroked along her jaw, traced the pale column of her throat. His thumb ghosted her lips, which opened further against her will, the traitorous things!
"Too often, women forget they are delicate, soft, feminine creatures," he purred, rumbling as an impending quake. "Too distracted, staggering through their lives and relationships."
She trembled in his arms, hands sensing the dull thud of his heart beneath the hardened plate. His heat was incredible! Above, below, behind, he was all around, keeping her overheated in the comfort of his hold.
"And men, so overwhelmed with competition they lose sight of what makes romance so wonderful," he continued, chest vibrating under her fingertips.
"What is that?" she asked breathlessly, legs losing the ability to keep her upright.
His touch was driving her wild. The gentle swipe along her cheek, the petting of her hair, the deliberate way he teased the edges of her lips. And there was no denying the lust darkening his gaze into glacier hardness.
"That women deserved to be pursued," he said, a drawn bass fiddle of sound, causing her lower regions to quiver.
"They deserve to be caressed. The silkiness of their hair," he ran his three fingers through her shoulder length tresses, "the softness of their skin," he followed the plane of her jaw to her lips, "the taste of their lips. All these things must be given proper reverence. Men need to treat a woman as she deserves; precious, cherished, worshipped…pleasured."
"Philosophical, too?" she gasped as his other hand slid from her waist to her ass, pressing her firmly into him.
There was no mistaken the hardness of his heavily muscled body. Fear began to inch its way into her brain.
If only her bra wasn't so tight and her panties so wet!
Any further thought was erased as he lowered his head.
"All that is perfect is found in the softness of a woman," he muttered against her lips.
Her breath was stolen as he tentatively brushed their lips together, offering chaste kisses that left her wonton, seeking his lips for further contact. He obliged, mating their mouths.
She expected it to be weird, or at least, rough and slobbery and jabbing his tongue into the back of her throat like most men do when they are in a hurry to get a woman naked.
But he didn't.
His tongue caressed hers with gentle, light touches that drew her into a matingdance as old as time.
Instinctively, her arms went around his neck. Her head tilted, granting him domination as she simply basked in the artful and delicate kiss that caused her toes to curl, and her heart beat a tempo in time with the pulse between her legs. She whimpered, overwhelmed by the simple act of kissing him.
She had dated in high school and made out like any typical teenager, but none of the boys she ever kissed awakened the same kind of sensations as this talented turtle. His tongue swept hers playfully, luring her into a duel, which she enjoyed immensely.
But as she really began to enjoy the kiss, becoming hotter than she could ever recall, he ended the sensuality, leaving her flushed and breathless.
"See?" he smirked.
Oh, that cheeky bastard!
Her bitterness was short lived. He still held her in his arms, one hand cradling her face in an endearing way. Fingers caressed her cheek, soothing the flush he had caused.
He was right.
Romance was lacking. In a lot of relationships.
Maybe that's why she always felt … wrong. As if things weren't as they should be. Since high school, she went through the motions of relationships: holding hands, whispered conversations, exchanging kisses, over-the-clothes type groping and teenage grinding, but never anything truly physical.
No matter how curious she was, something always felt…off. Not allowing her to take those final steps. It was why she never went all the way. In comparison, those boys had lacked something.
Romance.
Proper reverence, showing her the kind of worship and passion this turtle provided. Even when she'd sit in a boys lap and grind down on him, she was never so turned on. But a single kiss from this turtle and she was near jumping out of her skin.
She was way too hot, heart hammering in her rib cage, and her lower regions were experiencing strange internal quakes. Legs were jelly and stomach was performing crooked back flips.
There was also a weird tingling going up and down her spine, making her toes curl, and her hair stand up on end.
If she wasn't mistaken, she was genuinely turned on.
How strangely… satisfying.
He nudged her with his nose, his breath hot and fast, lips mere centimeters from her own.
"I wouldn't mind another kiss, if you you'd be so inclined."
She nodded, slamming their mouths together and locking her arms around his neck.
By all that was good and beautiful in the world! She never felt so alive! So turned on! If this is what it was like to be attracted to someone and want to be physical, she realized her life had been sorely lacking by the fumbling boys of her past. In fact, compared to what she was experiencing, with his firm, soft lips, teasing tongue and warm hands resting at her waist, she realized previous relations were primary level.
He was expert level!
If she was a gamer, she believed the proper expression was 'leveling up.'
As she battled his tongue for dominance, his hands slid down her sides to cup her ass. He palmed her easily, offering kneading massage. When other boys had done such a thing, she brushed it off and didn't favor them with a positive result. But when he did it, lightning shot up her spine and made blood roar in her ears.
She gasped, breaking contact to blink slowly, trying to ward off the electricity skating her skin.
Staring into his eyes, she saw the pale blue shimmer of lust veiled by black. His hold was firm but gentle, his fingers doing wondrously delicious pressure and pinches to her ass. Trying to regain her focus, for her brain was way too hazy and eyes were becoming clouded, she touched his chest.
He stilled his hands, allowing her the chance to explore what made them so different.
She never thought she'd see a mutant, let alone be this close to one. He was so hot, practically burning under her touch. Strange. She expected him to be cold and clammy. Little scales provided a ridged, rough surface and beneath the green moved thick corded muscle.
Strength and power, that's what she sensed under her hands. Yet, he made no improper motion. Sure his hands were still cupping her ass, but he wasn't the first boy to do that. If anything, his hands felt nice. Just like his lips.
Glancing up from her exploration, she found him staring at her, gaze dark and promising all manner of terrifyingly beautiful and erotic experiences.
His nostrils flared. He took a deep inhale, chest vibrating with a deep, resonating sound, causing her to shiver against her will.
"Would you like to continue this in the bedroom?" he purred.
Instantly, she froze.
As if sensing her misgivings, he stroked her spine with warm, broad hands.
"Perhaps the couch?" he suggested, voice like thunder.
It rolled over her skin, causing goosebumps to form. And man, was her panties way too wet! She feared she'd soak through them and he'd believe she peed herself. That was embarrassment she couldn't live down.
"We go as far as you like," he muttered, the heavens rolling back with the force of his voice. Her knees buckled. "This is all about you. Taking you to your peak. Testing your limits."
He licked her lips, causing her to rise on her toes, a flower searching for the sun.
"Don't you have other clients?" she asked breathlessly, heart pounding in her ears, making it difficult to think. Her brain was waging war, telling her to withdraw from his arms. Escape this room! Flee, far away and forget the sensations he was awakening.
Yet, parts of her were screaming for surrender. Her nipples were tight, as was her belly. Her legs were trembling and her panties were drenched.
"You are all that matters," he answered, luring her into another kiss that stole her breath away. She whimpered in his mouth, nails clawing at his huge biceps, which felt as concrete under her grip. "The decision is yours. You dictate how far you are willing to go."
War clashed in her mind. She knew she should resist. Should fight. Get away. Ignore him and leave. Forget about him.
But a voice whispered in her head, reminding her she has never felt so turned on. Never felt so alive! Wonderful! Tingly! And that was just from his kiss!
Though he was strong and firm, encasing her in his arms, his strength was held in check. His manner, respectful. He was giving her lead, allowing her to decide how far she wanted to go, how much of him she was willing to sample. If she said stop, he would. He was hers to command. The reigns were hers to direct.
And he was already being paid…right?
Since she had the control, and not have to worry about the guy being pushy or demanding she give more than she was willing, she might as well take advantage. He was hers for the night. Her toy. Her male to sample and command and allow him to show her things she was too frightened, too naïve, too ashamed of wanting before.
Here was her chance to experiment. With someone who wouldn't push. Wouldn't brag to his buddies or shame her in front of her peers. He would only go as far as she allowed and not berate or hate her for setting limitations.
And since he had already been paid, it seemed… wrong, somehow, to let the opportunity pass her by. She may never be in such a position again. Might as well make the most of it.
To a certain point.
She still had her dignity and self respect.
"More kissing?" she asked tentatively, hoping he wouldn't get annoyed with her hesitancy and attempt to force himself.
"That would be very nice," he breathed, cradling her face, thumb stroking her jaw, teasing her parted lips, but he wouldn't take their invitation.
He moved in a slow, sensual dance, allowing his lower half to bump suggestively into hers. Taunting. Promising. All the while, she mirrored him, mesmerized by the darkness in his gaze, the sensuality in his touch, the muscle bulging everywhere, but instead of feeling intimated or threatened, she felt protected.
The couch pressed into the back of her legs. Instinctively, she lowered herself down. He followed, grabbing a pillow and propping it behind her back. She reclined on the sofa while he knelt in front of her. Given his impressive height, and her being much shorter, this put them on a more even level.
Without breaking eye contact, his hands massaged up and down her thighs.
Her heart leapt in her throat.
God, he was gorgeous! Even the green was a distinct turn on!
And those eyes!
Frozen heat and icy electricity stared at her, seeing through her, her soul laid bare under his gaze. She could only remain immobile beneath him as he caressed her hair, smoothing it along her cheek, the column of her throat, his thumb brushing her chin. Her mouth opened in invitation.
He accepted.
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Well, what do you think?
This is a little longer than my standard, but I think it worked out quite well. What do you think?
Be sure to tell AlexLuke how awesome she is for the suggestion ;)
*author hurries to restaurant down street and sits in their walk in freezer*
readers, please note that the next chapter will be truncated before extensive sexual descriptions. You will be able to find this story as a whole on
Thank you for your understanding and continued devotion to this fandom and to my little stories. :D