Note: This will be the end of Part Two. I will eventually get around to
writing Part Three, I hope, but not for a while. In the meantime, there's
so much good fic out there to enjoy so have fun!
***********************************************************************
As Sark leaned in Sydney caught his distinctive masculine scent again. When his lips first touched hers, roughly, hungrily, any lingering objections were pushed out. Everything was pushed out. There was only Sark.
She pressed herself into his hard chest. In response, Sark ran his hands through her hair, and held her head, bringing her closer. The ice pack fell away, but she didn't notice. Sydney ran her fingers through, then clutched Sark's curls, made tighter from the hot air. Sark's free hand moved down her side, awakening other parts of her body. When it came to her waist, she thought it would rest there, but he gripped her and pulled her to him even closer and she let out a muffled cry into their kiss. This kiss was nothing like the one they had shared at dinner. That kiss left her confused. There was no room for confusion now. No mistaking Sark's feelings. He wanted her.
And god, she wanted him, too. As their tongues swirled deeply, she began to realize how intensely she wanted him. How she craved him. The thought scared her. She was ready to betray everyone, even herself, for lust. Desire. Everything she had worked for for years, her beliefs and values, she was about to throw them away in exchange for Sark's expert touch.
She couldn't do it. She had to stop now. Stop now before it got out of control and she no longer had the power. Say it, her mind scolded. Say it. Their tongues still mixed. She did not want to let Sark go.
Say it! Her mind screamed.
"Stop!" Sydney broke off the kiss.
Sark looked down on her and she could see the mixed emotions flash through his eyes. Lust. Then disappointment.. even hurt? No, now they changed back to their easy superiority. The lack of expression served to make him look removed from the situation. Like he knew what was to happen and was simply waiting for it to unfold. Unconcerned. Cold.
Was she mistaken when she thought he wanted her? Maybe the kiss was just another game. Another trick. Another lie. Sydney was breathing heavier than she would have liked. Sark straightened himself as she sat up abruptly. She was aware of the throb in her head again, it was worse now somehow. She stared into Sark's eyes which were cold as usual. She had been mistaken. Fooled. This was all some ploy. And she had been ready to betray everything.
Anger boiled up and grew, fueled by her unfulfilled passion, which needed somewhere to go.
"Consider yourself stopped." Sydney spat.
Sark smirked, sending a chill down her spine. "Pity. Had your body only overridden your precious morals for just a few more minutes I'd have stopped myself.. satisfied."
Sydney's eyes grew wide with his implication. Before she could even think about it, her hand flew to his face. She slapped him hard.
Sark's eyes flashed but his face showed no signs of feeling the sting of the angry red mark across it. "I must admit the ease with you were about to give yourself would have pleased me more."
Sydney raised her hand to slap him again. Sark caught her wrist and gripped it tightly. His eyes revealed a fire behind them now. Her heart was pounding. Sark held both her wrist and her eyes. She had the insane thought that he was going to kiss her again. She could swear for an instant she was sure he would. Then his eyes were cruel again. He threw her hand down.
I'll play your game, Sydney thought hotly. Give it back to you just as hard and see how you like it.
"Perhaps you're right." Sydney smiled, beginning to mix the truth with a lie so he wouldn't know what was genuine. "Being this close to you I have often wondered what it would be like to get to know you more.. intimately, Sark. To flirt with danger a bit.." She frowned with exaggeration and continued lazily, "Unfortunately, now that I've tasted a sample of what's to come I've lost interest."
Doubt. Sydney knew that she couldn't completely fool Sark, he knew her too well, but she was a well-trained liar and somehow he was vulnerable. She saw some part of him doubt her desire. Some part of him doubted his own prowess, his ability to seduce her so easily. Good.
"Once again, that's a pity. I would have been interested. At least until morning."
Sydney recoiled. "I hate you!" She shouted, hurt, no longer able to play the game. She leapt from the bed and hurried over to the desk.
Sark faltered. He looked down and licked his lips. Sydney caught a glimpse of him through her peripheral vision and thought he felt bad, guilty. Good. It looked as if he might say something, then decided against it.
"I'm leaving." She said as she grabbed her purse to go.
"Don't bother, Sydney." Sark replied carelessly and beat her to the door.
Sydney took a step toward the door herself, then backed up and collapsed onto the bed, gripping the soft comforter. Her emotions threatened to get the best of her. What she had been holding back in Sark's presence came to the surface.
Don't cry, don't cry, Sydney told herself, pursing her lips.
It seemed every time she was with Sark, she was subject to a torrent of emotions. Sydney tried to shake her head clear of anything but loathing for him. It was safer that way.
She did hate Sark. She hated him. She wanted to throw his suitcases off the balcony. She pictured herself opening them up and watching his four- thousand dollar suits blow away in the wind. Of course there was no wind in this hot desert. Sydney bit her lip.
After everything, she was still aroused and she hated him even more for it. Cold shower. The words were the answer to a prayer. The balcony door was still open, and it was beginning to make the room a sauna. Her passion, her anger, had already made perspire. Her shirt was sticking to her back. She took two aspirin for her head. She could tell there would be a small bump for another day. A cold shower was exactly what she needed right now.
****************************************************
Sark made it as far as lobby. In his haste and irritation, he didn't see the careless bellhop ready to collide with him. The bellhop's tray hit Sark's chest and the contents of some poor guest's meal splattered onto his designer clothing.
He nodded away the bellhop's profuse apologies and promises to have the Oasis take care of the dry cleaning.
This confirmed it. What he needed was a cold shower. Thank god Sydney decided to leave the suite, he thought, as he returned to the elevator.
Back in their living area, Sark removed his shirt and draped it over a chair. Cold shower. That was the remedy. His intimacy with Ms. Bristow would have caused him to respond quite apparently if it hadn't ended when it did. She knew he wanted her, perhaps she had enjoyed teasing him and Sark was hot with muted rage about it. One day their paths would cross again, in another capacity, as enemies again, and he would.. what? He thought to himself. Kill her? Of course he could never do that. But a good fight might ease his fury. To best her, to make her beg, to have her pinned to the ground again, but this time, to kiss her for as long as he wanted.. to.. No! Not to kiss her, to capture her! This was maddening. He had to freeze these suggestive thoughts out of his mind with cold shower.
Sark opened the door to the vanity and his breath caught in his throat at what he saw. Sydney, absolutely naked. She was ready to take a shower and hadn't heard him enter. Sark instantly pulled the door back, leaving only an opening of an inch or so. Sydney's back was turned to him. His gaze went upward, from her lovely long legs to her strong shoulders.
Sydney turned, but she still wasn't looking toward the door and Sark was rewarded with a view of her bare front. He stared for a moment at every inch of her uncovered skin, every inch of her lean, toned body. He briefly fantasized about throwing the door open and taking her in his arms right then. But what would she do? Push him away once more. He didn't want to go through that again.
Sark didn't want to be caught staring at her naked, either and he silently closed the door.
Bloody hell, he thought. Seeing what he just saw was the last thing he needed. That image was not going to help him stop thinking of her.
Sark stormed down the hall. If there was no hope of getting a cold shower, the next best thing was a stiff drink. He grabbed a black shirt, dressed and headed down toward the elevator once again.
He slammed into a chair at the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey. There weren't many people there. In fact, there weren't too many people left at the hotel on a Sunday evening.
Sydney, Sydney, Sydney. He closed his eyes and he saw Sydney. He opened them and she was there, too. Now he saw her naked when his eyes closed! Not that he didn't imagine her unclothed before, but now he knew. She made him feel a myriad of emotions at once. He wanted to shake her, he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to protect her, he even wanted to fight her. He enjoyed riling her. It had been so long since he felt anything and now she came along and he felt everything at once. Ironic. Worse, she was the one person he really shouldn't be feeling anything for.
He ordered another shot. His anger slowly subsided as regret over the things he had said grew.
As if being tortured by an unrequited longing wasn't bad enough. But was it really unrequited? No, she wanted him, too. Sark was sure of it. It was just her principles and his "cocky" attitude that interfered.
He could not continue like this. He knew he could break her resistance. He had to have her, no matter the cost. He slammed down his shot. Right. Now.
**************************************************************************** **
Sydney lay on bed doing nothing but staring at the wall. She was wearing a white tank top and shorts. The sun had set a while ago, it was dark outside now.
She didn't love Vaughn. She refused to think about her feelings for Sark for the moment, but she knew she didn't love Vaughn. Even if Sark was nothing more than a cold killer, he had electrified her in a way she never thought possible. Now, she didn't want to continue with Vaughn, or anyone else, unless she had that intensity.
No, she was lying to herself. She didn't want intensity with someone else. She didn't even think it was possible. She wanted Sark. She was head- over-heels in love with him.
Sydney closed her eyes and bit her lip with the admission. She wished she could just tell her heart to stop. Command it not to love him.
At least she could command her actions, if not her feelings, she thought with a sigh. She would go on pretending, just like she did every day. She would bottle it all up and store it away. She would go on working with him for as long as was required and she would never let her feelings show, she resolved. In time, she would get over it.
Sydney heard a noise coming from the other side of the suite. Sark had returned. She listened to his footsteps. He was coming toward the bedroom. Her eyes flashed to the lock. She hadn't locked the door.
So what? Her mind said. If you're going to work together, you've got to face him sometime.
The door was pushed open and Sark filled the entranceway.
Sydney's eyes widened and her pulsed quickened. Tensed, all in black, he looked like a panther ready to pounce. She jumped to her feet. Sark eyed her, open, real. There was no deception this time.
He covered the distance between them in a flash. Sydney took one step back before he grabbed her and pushed her toward the wall.
Sark slammed his body against hers and Sydney felt a wave of pleasure run through her. She let go of her resolution momentarily when his mouth covered hers for a bruising kiss. The taste of whiskey told her he'd been at the bar. Sydney sunk into his body.
Sark's hand cupped her breast, squeezed, and she groaned.
Then Sydney regained her resolve and pushed him back. She lunged two feet away before Sark turned and caught her again. This time, he used the force of his body to send them both falling onto the bed. Sydney flipped up and Sark grabbed her arms and pinned her under him. Sydney grunted, trying to free herself. They were both breathing heavy, chests rising and falling visibly.
"Dammit, Sydney, I didn't mean it, any of it. You know I didn't. I want you, Sydney."
"That's your problem, Sark. I don't want you." She told him, squirming in his grip.
"Yes, you do." He said simply, and held her tighter. "No one makes you feel the way I do. I know it because no one makes me feel the way you do, either."
Sark brought his head to her throat and kissed it, working up toward her ear. "And if I have to tease you all night just to break you, just to make you admit it, I will, with pleasure." He whispered.
Sydney gasped and shivered. As Sark worked kisses down her neck she let go of her resistance. Sark pulled aside her tank top and took her nipple in his mouth. Sydney knew she could not stop herself now, not if everything in the world depended on it. She hungered for Sark so badly she didn't know if she could ever be satisfied.
The exquisite sensation of his mouth on her was briefly interrupted to remove her shirt, then his own. Sark threw away the clothing and went swiftly back to her bare skin, kissing her uncovered breasts, licking them, gently biting each nipple. Sydney gave herself over to the pleasure. She wrapped her legs around Sark's body and moaned his name.
He raised himself again, throwing off the remains of his clothing, then began on hers. He lingered for a moment on her panties, smiling when he saw how wet she was through them. He traced a finger over the thin silk between her legs and she whimpered. Then he hooked his fingers teasingly in the same area, removing her panties from the bottom, but not before his fingers brushed her opening and she moaned again, and shifted up, trying to feel more.
"Sark, now." Sydney spoke throatily. "Please."
Sark didn't need to be told twice. He lifted himself up and thrust into Sydney with a groan. Home, Sydney thought when he entered her. Being with Sark is home for me. It's where I'm meant to be.
Sydney was Sark's equal in every way. Thrusting in and out, Sark realized he didn't want to be with anyone else, probably ever. No one else could ever match him the way she did. No one else could make him feel like this.
Sydney dug her nails into Sark's strong back and whimpered in pleasure. She cried out, then bit his shoulder hard to stifle another cry. Sark altered his pace, holding back until Sydney was ready. She came, pressed against Sark and shaking into his body, calling out his name again. Her muscles tightened around him, sending him into his own ecstasy a few seconds before she finished. He held her tightly as his own orgasm shook through him.
Sark kissed her deeply.
"That was." Sydney began quietly.
"Incredible." Sark finished in her ear.
Sydney rolled the now-weakened Sark under her body, pinning him down.
"Next time I'm on top." She said, grinning shamelessly.
"You'll have to fight me for it." Sark replied teasing, as he used his body to roll her back under him.
Sydney laughed. "I will, with pleasure." She said mocking his earlier words, staring up at him.
"And I'm sure I'll lose with pleasure." He kissed her again.
Sydney wiggled free and sat up. She felt different. More alive than ever before. But different. Like something in herself had changed and could never be undone. She felt freer. Lighter. Stronger. Naughty.
Consequences be damned. Hadn't she already given enough, hadn't she done enough for everyone else, for the good of the country yet?
"I don't want to go out. I'd rather stay in tonight." She said suggestively.
"I couldn't agree more. Shall we raid the mini bar?" He asked.
"For twenty dollar macadamia nuts and miniature Absolut bottles?" She replied with a smile as she walked over to the small fridge without bothering to put anything on.
She opened the door. "Miniature bottles of Piper," she called to him, pleased. She took one out and walked over to Sark.
"No need to dine on nuts and vodka, Sydney. I'll order room service." He told her.
"Mmmm.. yes. But first, desert." Sydney said as she poured a bit of the chilled champagne onto Sark's bare chest.
***********************************************************************
As Sark leaned in Sydney caught his distinctive masculine scent again. When his lips first touched hers, roughly, hungrily, any lingering objections were pushed out. Everything was pushed out. There was only Sark.
She pressed herself into his hard chest. In response, Sark ran his hands through her hair, and held her head, bringing her closer. The ice pack fell away, but she didn't notice. Sydney ran her fingers through, then clutched Sark's curls, made tighter from the hot air. Sark's free hand moved down her side, awakening other parts of her body. When it came to her waist, she thought it would rest there, but he gripped her and pulled her to him even closer and she let out a muffled cry into their kiss. This kiss was nothing like the one they had shared at dinner. That kiss left her confused. There was no room for confusion now. No mistaking Sark's feelings. He wanted her.
And god, she wanted him, too. As their tongues swirled deeply, she began to realize how intensely she wanted him. How she craved him. The thought scared her. She was ready to betray everyone, even herself, for lust. Desire. Everything she had worked for for years, her beliefs and values, she was about to throw them away in exchange for Sark's expert touch.
She couldn't do it. She had to stop now. Stop now before it got out of control and she no longer had the power. Say it, her mind scolded. Say it. Their tongues still mixed. She did not want to let Sark go.
Say it! Her mind screamed.
"Stop!" Sydney broke off the kiss.
Sark looked down on her and she could see the mixed emotions flash through his eyes. Lust. Then disappointment.. even hurt? No, now they changed back to their easy superiority. The lack of expression served to make him look removed from the situation. Like he knew what was to happen and was simply waiting for it to unfold. Unconcerned. Cold.
Was she mistaken when she thought he wanted her? Maybe the kiss was just another game. Another trick. Another lie. Sydney was breathing heavier than she would have liked. Sark straightened himself as she sat up abruptly. She was aware of the throb in her head again, it was worse now somehow. She stared into Sark's eyes which were cold as usual. She had been mistaken. Fooled. This was all some ploy. And she had been ready to betray everything.
Anger boiled up and grew, fueled by her unfulfilled passion, which needed somewhere to go.
"Consider yourself stopped." Sydney spat.
Sark smirked, sending a chill down her spine. "Pity. Had your body only overridden your precious morals for just a few more minutes I'd have stopped myself.. satisfied."
Sydney's eyes grew wide with his implication. Before she could even think about it, her hand flew to his face. She slapped him hard.
Sark's eyes flashed but his face showed no signs of feeling the sting of the angry red mark across it. "I must admit the ease with you were about to give yourself would have pleased me more."
Sydney raised her hand to slap him again. Sark caught her wrist and gripped it tightly. His eyes revealed a fire behind them now. Her heart was pounding. Sark held both her wrist and her eyes. She had the insane thought that he was going to kiss her again. She could swear for an instant she was sure he would. Then his eyes were cruel again. He threw her hand down.
I'll play your game, Sydney thought hotly. Give it back to you just as hard and see how you like it.
"Perhaps you're right." Sydney smiled, beginning to mix the truth with a lie so he wouldn't know what was genuine. "Being this close to you I have often wondered what it would be like to get to know you more.. intimately, Sark. To flirt with danger a bit.." She frowned with exaggeration and continued lazily, "Unfortunately, now that I've tasted a sample of what's to come I've lost interest."
Doubt. Sydney knew that she couldn't completely fool Sark, he knew her too well, but she was a well-trained liar and somehow he was vulnerable. She saw some part of him doubt her desire. Some part of him doubted his own prowess, his ability to seduce her so easily. Good.
"Once again, that's a pity. I would have been interested. At least until morning."
Sydney recoiled. "I hate you!" She shouted, hurt, no longer able to play the game. She leapt from the bed and hurried over to the desk.
Sark faltered. He looked down and licked his lips. Sydney caught a glimpse of him through her peripheral vision and thought he felt bad, guilty. Good. It looked as if he might say something, then decided against it.
"I'm leaving." She said as she grabbed her purse to go.
"Don't bother, Sydney." Sark replied carelessly and beat her to the door.
Sydney took a step toward the door herself, then backed up and collapsed onto the bed, gripping the soft comforter. Her emotions threatened to get the best of her. What she had been holding back in Sark's presence came to the surface.
Don't cry, don't cry, Sydney told herself, pursing her lips.
It seemed every time she was with Sark, she was subject to a torrent of emotions. Sydney tried to shake her head clear of anything but loathing for him. It was safer that way.
She did hate Sark. She hated him. She wanted to throw his suitcases off the balcony. She pictured herself opening them up and watching his four- thousand dollar suits blow away in the wind. Of course there was no wind in this hot desert. Sydney bit her lip.
After everything, she was still aroused and she hated him even more for it. Cold shower. The words were the answer to a prayer. The balcony door was still open, and it was beginning to make the room a sauna. Her passion, her anger, had already made perspire. Her shirt was sticking to her back. She took two aspirin for her head. She could tell there would be a small bump for another day. A cold shower was exactly what she needed right now.
****************************************************
Sark made it as far as lobby. In his haste and irritation, he didn't see the careless bellhop ready to collide with him. The bellhop's tray hit Sark's chest and the contents of some poor guest's meal splattered onto his designer clothing.
He nodded away the bellhop's profuse apologies and promises to have the Oasis take care of the dry cleaning.
This confirmed it. What he needed was a cold shower. Thank god Sydney decided to leave the suite, he thought, as he returned to the elevator.
Back in their living area, Sark removed his shirt and draped it over a chair. Cold shower. That was the remedy. His intimacy with Ms. Bristow would have caused him to respond quite apparently if it hadn't ended when it did. She knew he wanted her, perhaps she had enjoyed teasing him and Sark was hot with muted rage about it. One day their paths would cross again, in another capacity, as enemies again, and he would.. what? He thought to himself. Kill her? Of course he could never do that. But a good fight might ease his fury. To best her, to make her beg, to have her pinned to the ground again, but this time, to kiss her for as long as he wanted.. to.. No! Not to kiss her, to capture her! This was maddening. He had to freeze these suggestive thoughts out of his mind with cold shower.
Sark opened the door to the vanity and his breath caught in his throat at what he saw. Sydney, absolutely naked. She was ready to take a shower and hadn't heard him enter. Sark instantly pulled the door back, leaving only an opening of an inch or so. Sydney's back was turned to him. His gaze went upward, from her lovely long legs to her strong shoulders.
Sydney turned, but she still wasn't looking toward the door and Sark was rewarded with a view of her bare front. He stared for a moment at every inch of her uncovered skin, every inch of her lean, toned body. He briefly fantasized about throwing the door open and taking her in his arms right then. But what would she do? Push him away once more. He didn't want to go through that again.
Sark didn't want to be caught staring at her naked, either and he silently closed the door.
Bloody hell, he thought. Seeing what he just saw was the last thing he needed. That image was not going to help him stop thinking of her.
Sark stormed down the hall. If there was no hope of getting a cold shower, the next best thing was a stiff drink. He grabbed a black shirt, dressed and headed down toward the elevator once again.
He slammed into a chair at the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey. There weren't many people there. In fact, there weren't too many people left at the hotel on a Sunday evening.
Sydney, Sydney, Sydney. He closed his eyes and he saw Sydney. He opened them and she was there, too. Now he saw her naked when his eyes closed! Not that he didn't imagine her unclothed before, but now he knew. She made him feel a myriad of emotions at once. He wanted to shake her, he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to protect her, he even wanted to fight her. He enjoyed riling her. It had been so long since he felt anything and now she came along and he felt everything at once. Ironic. Worse, she was the one person he really shouldn't be feeling anything for.
He ordered another shot. His anger slowly subsided as regret over the things he had said grew.
As if being tortured by an unrequited longing wasn't bad enough. But was it really unrequited? No, she wanted him, too. Sark was sure of it. It was just her principles and his "cocky" attitude that interfered.
He could not continue like this. He knew he could break her resistance. He had to have her, no matter the cost. He slammed down his shot. Right. Now.
**************************************************************************** **
Sydney lay on bed doing nothing but staring at the wall. She was wearing a white tank top and shorts. The sun had set a while ago, it was dark outside now.
She didn't love Vaughn. She refused to think about her feelings for Sark for the moment, but she knew she didn't love Vaughn. Even if Sark was nothing more than a cold killer, he had electrified her in a way she never thought possible. Now, she didn't want to continue with Vaughn, or anyone else, unless she had that intensity.
No, she was lying to herself. She didn't want intensity with someone else. She didn't even think it was possible. She wanted Sark. She was head- over-heels in love with him.
Sydney closed her eyes and bit her lip with the admission. She wished she could just tell her heart to stop. Command it not to love him.
At least she could command her actions, if not her feelings, she thought with a sigh. She would go on pretending, just like she did every day. She would bottle it all up and store it away. She would go on working with him for as long as was required and she would never let her feelings show, she resolved. In time, she would get over it.
Sydney heard a noise coming from the other side of the suite. Sark had returned. She listened to his footsteps. He was coming toward the bedroom. Her eyes flashed to the lock. She hadn't locked the door.
So what? Her mind said. If you're going to work together, you've got to face him sometime.
The door was pushed open and Sark filled the entranceway.
Sydney's eyes widened and her pulsed quickened. Tensed, all in black, he looked like a panther ready to pounce. She jumped to her feet. Sark eyed her, open, real. There was no deception this time.
He covered the distance between them in a flash. Sydney took one step back before he grabbed her and pushed her toward the wall.
Sark slammed his body against hers and Sydney felt a wave of pleasure run through her. She let go of her resolution momentarily when his mouth covered hers for a bruising kiss. The taste of whiskey told her he'd been at the bar. Sydney sunk into his body.
Sark's hand cupped her breast, squeezed, and she groaned.
Then Sydney regained her resolve and pushed him back. She lunged two feet away before Sark turned and caught her again. This time, he used the force of his body to send them both falling onto the bed. Sydney flipped up and Sark grabbed her arms and pinned her under him. Sydney grunted, trying to free herself. They were both breathing heavy, chests rising and falling visibly.
"Dammit, Sydney, I didn't mean it, any of it. You know I didn't. I want you, Sydney."
"That's your problem, Sark. I don't want you." She told him, squirming in his grip.
"Yes, you do." He said simply, and held her tighter. "No one makes you feel the way I do. I know it because no one makes me feel the way you do, either."
Sark brought his head to her throat and kissed it, working up toward her ear. "And if I have to tease you all night just to break you, just to make you admit it, I will, with pleasure." He whispered.
Sydney gasped and shivered. As Sark worked kisses down her neck she let go of her resistance. Sark pulled aside her tank top and took her nipple in his mouth. Sydney knew she could not stop herself now, not if everything in the world depended on it. She hungered for Sark so badly she didn't know if she could ever be satisfied.
The exquisite sensation of his mouth on her was briefly interrupted to remove her shirt, then his own. Sark threw away the clothing and went swiftly back to her bare skin, kissing her uncovered breasts, licking them, gently biting each nipple. Sydney gave herself over to the pleasure. She wrapped her legs around Sark's body and moaned his name.
He raised himself again, throwing off the remains of his clothing, then began on hers. He lingered for a moment on her panties, smiling when he saw how wet she was through them. He traced a finger over the thin silk between her legs and she whimpered. Then he hooked his fingers teasingly in the same area, removing her panties from the bottom, but not before his fingers brushed her opening and she moaned again, and shifted up, trying to feel more.
"Sark, now." Sydney spoke throatily. "Please."
Sark didn't need to be told twice. He lifted himself up and thrust into Sydney with a groan. Home, Sydney thought when he entered her. Being with Sark is home for me. It's where I'm meant to be.
Sydney was Sark's equal in every way. Thrusting in and out, Sark realized he didn't want to be with anyone else, probably ever. No one else could ever match him the way she did. No one else could make him feel like this.
Sydney dug her nails into Sark's strong back and whimpered in pleasure. She cried out, then bit his shoulder hard to stifle another cry. Sark altered his pace, holding back until Sydney was ready. She came, pressed against Sark and shaking into his body, calling out his name again. Her muscles tightened around him, sending him into his own ecstasy a few seconds before she finished. He held her tightly as his own orgasm shook through him.
Sark kissed her deeply.
"That was." Sydney began quietly.
"Incredible." Sark finished in her ear.
Sydney rolled the now-weakened Sark under her body, pinning him down.
"Next time I'm on top." She said, grinning shamelessly.
"You'll have to fight me for it." Sark replied teasing, as he used his body to roll her back under him.
Sydney laughed. "I will, with pleasure." She said mocking his earlier words, staring up at him.
"And I'm sure I'll lose with pleasure." He kissed her again.
Sydney wiggled free and sat up. She felt different. More alive than ever before. But different. Like something in herself had changed and could never be undone. She felt freer. Lighter. Stronger. Naughty.
Consequences be damned. Hadn't she already given enough, hadn't she done enough for everyone else, for the good of the country yet?
"I don't want to go out. I'd rather stay in tonight." She said suggestively.
"I couldn't agree more. Shall we raid the mini bar?" He asked.
"For twenty dollar macadamia nuts and miniature Absolut bottles?" She replied with a smile as she walked over to the small fridge without bothering to put anything on.
She opened the door. "Miniature bottles of Piper," she called to him, pleased. She took one out and walked over to Sark.
"No need to dine on nuts and vodka, Sydney. I'll order room service." He told her.
"Mmmm.. yes. But first, desert." Sydney said as she poured a bit of the chilled champagne onto Sark's bare chest.