Title: Something Real and True and Wonderful*
Author: Enchanted Dreamer
Couple: Mimi/Kingsley
Rating: M (for sexual content and language)
Summary: Mimi and Kingsley's first night together. It takes place in THE VAN ALEN LEGACY, after they find Jordan's body and realize they were too late. They find comfort in one another, and know that it can never happen again. -ONESHOT-
Disclaimer: I do not own Mimi, Kingsley (I wish!) or Blue Bloods (Blue Bloods, Masquerade, Revelations, Van Alen Legacy, or other future works in the series). Melissa de la Cruz created these wonderful works of fiction, and I just happened to fall in love with them.
Note (*): The title of this oneshot was taken from Melissa de la Cruz's THE VAN ALEN LEGACY (Chapter 59).
He was supposed to be in Paris, but instead he was here in the church, at the bonding, because maybe, just maybe, he felt something for her, something real and true and wonderful and something he could not deny, no matter how many jokes he made about it.
~Something Real And True And Wonderful~
The door closed softly behind her, and Mimi slowly sank to the ground—the doorknob digging to her back for a moment. But she didn't care. She though they were going to make it in time. That they would save Jordan and that with the Watcher's wisdom, they would have been one step closer to defeating Lucifer. But life wasn't so simple she learned that in her myriad lives.
But there were unexpected moments, such as when she managed to make her way to Kingsley's room without realizing she made the decision to do so. Perhaps for the first time ever she did not hope for Abbadon to comfort her and the sight of Kingsley, if she was completely honest with herself, was more than welcome. And she forced herself to believe that the feelings that somehow managed to burgeon weren't there.
"Force," that was all he had to say. She knew that in spite of holding hope that they would still be able to find Sophia—there was a certain sense of foreboding because they were still two paces back. But, in that moment they both came to a realization. Because after all he was there and she needed him. Nothing else mattered.
Her fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck and he carefully pulled them further into the room—closing the door behind him.
His hands glided across her body before one settled in her mass of blonde hair and the other on her slim hip, eliciting a gasp when his fingers skimmed under her camisole. He took the opportunity to bite her lower lip, "I knew you wanted me."
But something in his eyes told that underneath all that bravado—there was really a question. And a part of her remember that whether or not she wanted to be with Kingsley, she was supposed to be with Jack; Abbadon. That was how it had always been.
But that wasn't the question. Did she want Kingsley?—and the answer was a resounding: yes. The past year as working as a Venator…the past year with Kingsley was filled with more laughter, hope, and in his own way: caring than any of her time with Abbadon prior to the bonding. That meant something. Didn't it? Somewhere along the line she began to hope for things she wished she did not want. And here was an opportunity. She had to take it.
Mimi's right hand slowly left his dark curls and cupped the side of his face, "Shut up, Kingsley," and she crushed her mouth against his.
As if they could read each other's minds, he grasped her thighs and she wrapped her long tanned legs around his waist in a movement that was too passionate to be rehearsed. Her fingers deftly undid the buttons of his shirt while he, in turn, placed kisses along the column of her throat.
Just as all of the buttons were undone, he laid her on the bed, carefully keeping his weight from crushing her, but making sure she felt him lying on her. He began kissing the tops of her breasts that peeked out from under her top and she glided her hands across his abdomen and through his hair; delighting in the various textures that were his body.
She hadn't even noticed where his hands traveled until his fingers were inside her. And suddenly she was hyperaware of everything: his breath, his gasps as she touched his muscles and sucked his ear into her mouth; the all too noticeable evidence of his attraction against her thigh, the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. She heard sounds coming for her that she didn't even know she could make as he teased her; daring her to edge, the precipice of what she desperately craved. Her hips grinded against his hands and she almost felt like she should be embarrassed for being too wanton until he kissed her like he couldn't survive without her. "You're so perfect," he murmured against her lips and she came.
He pulled himself up so he was kneeling above her, his chest glowing in the light that wafted in through her window before doing the unthinkable—he sucked his fingers clean and she swore she almost came again, instead, she was just a panting, sex-crazed mess underneath him. But something about the way he looked at her told her she had all the power, and a billion butterflies began to flutter in her stomach. And all she could think was who got silly things like butterflies when they were having sex? Not Mimi Force. But apparently that was before Kingsley Martin rocked her world with his effortless seduction.
She mumbled something that too low, even for his vampire ears to decipher. "What's that, sweetheart," he asked. And a part of thrilled at the endearment because it was so different from his usual casually-thrown-in flirtatious jibes. And she spoke louder: "Too many clothes."
God, how he agreed. He needed Mimi naked and writhing underneath him immediately or he was going to explode—and not in a good way. So, he nodded and started to take off his shirt. "No," she protested, "I want to." And he pulled her arm so that she was kneeling in front of him. She immediately pulled his shirt off and her lips kissed his chest as he peeled off her camisole—only stopping so he could remove it completely and discard her bra as well.
Her hands found his belt and fly all too easily while kissing his torso, and continued their perusal until he was in her hands; warm, soft, and more than she'd ever imagined.
"Fuck," he breathed harshly before urging, almost pleadingly for her to lie back. And she did, without hesitation, because she wanted this. Just for tonight, she told herself. And he pulled her pants and panties off in one swift motion, and he was completely naked before him while he pulled his pants off as well.
Commando? She sent.
Had to be ready…just in case. He sent cockily, but she knew that didn't mean he figured she would sleep with him. Only that he hoped she would.
And he crawled over her, like a predator overtaking his prey and a feeling akin to fear swept over her. He wouldn't hurt her, that much she knew. It was all of the things Mimi did not know; the thoughts she fought off. Where would they go from this? How could she act like nothing happened?
She did not notice that he was hovering above her, waiting for a sign that she wanted him to continue; that it was OK to be with her.
Mimi smiled and ran her hands from his shoulders to his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. He took this as encouragement and placed himself more steadily between her thighs; she spread them out reflexively to accommodate him. He sucked on her neck and his shaft teased her by just barely touching her without entering. She began to protest when his mouth left her neck, but was silenced when he maneuvered to support his weight on his left arm; his right hand holding the side of her face.
"Look at me, Mimi," and all he had to do was use that sexy, husky voice and she was fairly certain there was nothing she wouldn't do if he only asked.
Her eyes locked on his, and, if she admitted it to herself, she understood everything he felt for her in that moment—beyond the passion and camaraderie—the love was there all along. Then there was the impossibly stretched yet not unwelcome feeling of him pushing himself inside of her. "Oh, mmm….." she bit her lip and he memorized the completely awestruck look on her face when he hit home. It was like she'd realized what he'd known for so long: that nothing would ever be better than the two of them together.
He pulled out slowly and her legs shot out to wrap around his waist; pulling him back. "You OK?" he murmured with his face centimeters away from her own. She nodded furiously, "Don't leave." He shook his head, "Whatever you want me to do, Mimi," he leaned to her ear: "I'll do anything," before thrusting. She really was impossibly perfect; the way her legs felt wrapped around him; the fingers embedded in his hair; the hand gripping his shoulder; her voice when she breathed his name—he loved that most of all.
"Fuck, baby," he grunted as he pushed in. Mimi couldn't believe how desperately she needed every part of her to touch him; she couldn't get close enough. He was giving her everything he had to give—and she was more than willing—if not eager to accept it and give him anything he wanted.
She felt the coil building inside of her, the spring that was being wound so tight she was sure it would snap. "Kingsley," and her answer was a kiss and he grasped her thigh—so that her calve would be thrown over his shoulder. "Ahhhh," her eyes rolled back in her head, "yes."
His thrusts were even faster now—almost frantic; torn between wanting to making it last even longer than it already had—and wanting her to know just how good he could make her feel. She squeezed him so that she was beyond impossibly tight; his name falling from lips over and over as she rode out her high.
Her pleasure brought his and she kissed the side of his face as she felt him emptying himself inside of her. He was torn by the tenderness of the moment as his body relaxed against her own. He started to pull himself up to look at her face and roll beside her, but her hand quickly reached out to carefully stop him.
"Stay," she whispered. He saw the fear in her eyes and nodded, happy to stay with her wrapped around him. They both knew that it could not happen again and they should be grateful for the time they got.
(Next morning)
Kingsley woke up and the sunlight was too bright, and as his eyes adjusted he realized that he'd been right. He was by himself, but all he had to do was concentrate and he could still breathe her in; relive the moment when they'd shared something—a moment that while brief, was more real; held more meaning in its singularity than his entire existence.