Leather and Lace

((Special thanks to Dymphy of WSRP for beta reading this for me))

Disclaimer: This is a Wildstar Fanfiction and served as an intro for one of my characters. Serena J'vette, who I own. That being said, this story heavily implies sex and if you are a prude and such things bother you. Please do not read it. Is rated R for this reason.

That being said, this the first fic of its kind for me, serious critiques only please, any nonsense will be ignored. Thank you and enjoy.

From the second he entered the room, peace was all he felt. Why, he did not know; usually such meetings left him feeling nervous, at least in the beginning. But not this time; this time he was completely at ease.

Dim light from the fireplace cast shadows on several high-backed chairs, a bar, multiple large, plush-looking pillows, and a closed door leading into another room. The shadows flickered and danced as he walked in slowly; a long form detached itself from one of the large pillows, rising up and coming towards him. Though he could not see the face, he could tell by the way she walked that she was female. As she approached, he could see that her dark hair drawn up into a messy bun. Wispy strands cascaded about her face and a veil masked her eyes from view. She began to light the candles scattered around the room.

"I am so... very pleased we've finally gotten to meet..." His uncertain voice broke the silence.

She looked at him from behind her veil, the soft fragrance of her perfume wafting between the two of them. It smelled of warm vanilla and...something else he couldn't quite place, but it was lovely.

"As am I, Inquisitor." She returned to lighting the candles around the room, bathing it in a warmer glow.

He sighed and slowly began to shrug off his long, heavy coat. It was emblazoned with the sigil of his order and signs of his rank. It weighed a ton.

He froze when he felt slender hands on his shoulders.

"Please, allow me..." Her voice was soft, almost a purr.

When he lowered his shoulders, she took the coat off of him, folding it neatly across one of the high-backed chairs.

His dark eyes wandered over her body when she was turned away from him. She had long, perfectly curved legs ending in wide hips; her waist was tiny and her breasts, well...He dragged his eyes away and cleared his throat, adjusting the tall collar of his uniform shirt.

He was older, nearly 50, with swept back salt and pepper hair and a strong face. His eyes were green and harsh, his expression strained. He'd been an Inquisitor a long time and it showed; his movements were stiff, almost mechanical - lacking any sort of feeling at all.

She on the other hand… Every move she made was soft...and warm.

Her nimble hands reached for his collar and she ran her fingertips along the top, caressing his skin.

He closed his eyes at the touch and tried to keep from leaning into it. The vanilla scent still hung in the air he breathed in.

"Would you like some wine, Inquisitor?"

He startled and opened his eyes at the words; he hadn't noticed when she'd removed her hands. His green eyes shifted to look at her and saw she was now standing by a small wooden table: a chilled bottle in one hand, a glass chalice in the other.

"Yes. Please." His voice was clipped and formal.

She smiled her crimson lips, the sweetest sight. Gesturing gracefully to the chair, she spoke again, "Have a seat..."

He walked over quietly and took a seat in the chair opposite her. The cushions sunk around him, holding him in a comfortable embrace. He let his head lean back and sighed; if things continued as they were, this would be well worth its investment.

She moved to him and held out the chalice, pouring in a smooth motion once he took it.. When it was full, she moved away to prepare her own. She sat across from him on a large pillow, her bare feet drawn up underneath her as she gazed up at him.

He brought the chalice close to his face and took a quick whiff, a fruit blend, but musky...an old vintage. Taking a slow sip, he let the liquid play across his tongue, relishing the taste.

Superb…

Another smile greeted him as he looked down, her sweet perfume hit him again and he sighed, a smile forming on his lips in response.

"You are, very popular m'dear.." He spoke again, his voice had lost some of the stiffness from earlier. "I waited almost three months..."

She smiled again and moved closer, touching his leg which caused him to startle involuntarily. She seemed to notice the tensing of the muscles there and lightly stroked the area until it was gone.

"Do not dwell on that; I am here now." She was so close now that her perfume seemed to be all around.

He took another sip of wine; he felt lightheaded and somewhere in the back of his mind he found that strange. He hadn't had nearly enough drink to illicit a reaction yet...

Suddenly, there was a softness against his forehead and he realized it was her lips. When had she moved? He took another deep breath - a warm sensation spreading through his body as she brought her lips to his cheek then slowly down his jaw. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, exposing his throat to her tender ministrations.

"They said...that you were a rare talent..." He breathed, his voice husky. He didn't know how, but he could tell she was smiling against his skin.

"I can be whatever you want me to be, Inquisitor..." She spoke warmly and let a hand brush lightly over the front of his uniform shirt.

He held his breath, shuddering as she undid a single button and slid her hand inside. So soft. With his free hand, he reached up and ran it over her hair. It was so supple, like spun silk; he gingerly twisted a few strains between his fingers, opening his eyes slightly to watch the firelight play off of it.

She had pulled away slightly and was smiling again...

"Could you...could you take your hair down?" He murmured.

The smile remained as she slowly reached up and began to undo her hair, it fell in luxurious waves over her shoulders. He ran his hand through it, never hitting a snag. He marveled at it, highborn, she had to be...

Highborn…

It was painfully hard to focus. Between the wine, her perfume, and her tender touch, he found himself relaxing in spite of himself. His breath quickened as he felt her undoing his shirt, exposing his bare chest. Soft hands glided over the sensitive skin, sending a tingling warmth through him again. Hesitantly, he brought his lips to the top of her head, kissing it and burying his face in her hair, breathing in her scent deeply.

Vanilla...

So sweet...

So warm…

His head was swimming...

Soft touches on his lips now, probing. He returned them in kind, placing a calloused hand against her cheek. It felt like a high crime...touching her with such roughness. To his delight, she leaned her cheek into his palm, nuzzling it so, so softly as she lay her hand upon his. It was now that he realized she hadn't removed her veil, how queer...he reached out and touched it, but she stayed his hand, a gentle smile gracing her features.

"Not yet." She whispered, taking his mouth in hers again, locking him in a tender kiss.

Loving hands worked on his shoulders, shrugging him out of his uniform shirt. Without thinking, he shifted, helping her to remove the garment before cupping her neck in his hands and the kiss deepened. His thumbs caressed the hollow of her throat, she ran her hand through his hair...

When she broke the kiss, he let out a sharp breath, opening his eyes to look at her. She was caressing his shoulders, head tilted slightly to one side as she straddled him in the chair. He wished she would remove the veil so he could see her face.

As if she could hear his thoughts, she began to undo the lacy strands...

His breath caught his in throat as the veil descended and their eyes met for the first time, it was like looking into a crystal. He could distantly feel her hands on his face, absently, he leaned forward into it as his own hands slowly lowered onto her hips, resting there.

Deep pools of ever-changing, chilling, blue that captivated him. He couldn't look away; they called to him, beckoning him to chase them deeper. He did. Somewhere, a voice of warning was sounding an alarm, but he didn't heed it, all he felt was her and her touch...it was all he needed...

The breath he was holding slowly escaped as his body and mind surrendered...

...

It was always strange for her to watch as she took a person on their mental journey of pleasure. They stared at her, so intently, needing to look so impossibly deep. She always knew when they were about to go over the edge because the bright strains of blue would begin to course through their natural color.

It made the irises look cracked, fractured. The brightness begging to burst forth.

He was enraptured so quickly, she had to be careful not to cause him permanent harm. She placed another tender kiss upon his lips and felt him melt beneath her with a slow sigh.

Putty in her hands now, if she wished to use him as such. He'd tell her anything she wanted to know without hesitation, would please her in any way she desired. But that was not what she wanted; he was a true, paying customer and she meant to make this the night of his life...

He was lonely, with an aching soul. He deserved that much, at least.

...

Their shadows played across the bedroom for most of the night, only when both were completely spent did a stillness descend upon the room...

He lay practically on top of her, lower body tangled in the silk sheets, his breathing slow and deep. It caressed its way across her chest as she softly toyed with his hair. Beside her, he dreamed of nothing but pleasurable blue...

In the morning, he would awake and she would be gone, off to her next client, half-way across the galaxy...