A/N: The artist in me wanted to end the story at Chapter 10, and leave the rest to all you lovely readers' imaginations. But, the pervert in me wanted to continue Bobby and Dee's escapades. And, apparently, pervert beats artist. I realize that Bobby/OC ships (did I write that correctly? Bobby with someone besides Alex) are not too popular on this board, but please give it a chance! And please continue with the yummy reviews! On to the sexualization of Bobby Goren! Enjoy!
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Before his heart could beat, he was against her. His fingers went straight for her hair, combing twining feeling. God, I've wanted to do that. He found her lips, somehow, in the dim light of her front hallway. He pressed his trembling mouth to hers, softly at first. Bobby wasn't sure what he was supposed to do here, wasn't even sure what he was asking of her; her tongue slides across his lips, left to right, pressing for entrance.
That's it.
The final thread had snapped, and it tore open the seam holding back the animal in him. He slams her against the nearest wall, his body crashing against hers. She gasps into his mouth, giving a throaty chuckle before pushing her tongue between his lips and sliding her hands under his jacket, to his shoulders, his neck, and his chest. He breaks the kiss and moves across her jaw line, to the crook of her neck, exposed by the kimono gone askew. His breathing is frantic, there's not enough oxygen in the room. He catches a whiff of her perfume, that fucking smell. His nose is pressed against her neck, sucking in as much of the scent as his lungs will hold. Somehow, his synapses fire properly, and he's able to murmur against her skin "What is that?"
"Hmm?"
His hand slides up to her hair, twisting his fingers between the satin strands; he tightens his grip and pulls her head back, exposing her neck. "That fucking perfume. What is it? It's…it's d-driving me crazy."
He feels her cheek brush against his temple as she smiles. "Magnolia." Of course it is. He takes one final breath before moving to her face, her lips again. His hands can't seem to stop moving, across her shoulders, her waist, her stomach, down her thighs. She breaks the kiss and pushes her palms against his chest, stopping him. "Bobby…Bobby we have to talk" she breathes softly. He feels like he's been hit by a train. Confusion and guilt flooded his senses, his fight-or-flight instinct fully engaged. And it's telling him to break for the door. Go back to the squad room, back to Brooklyn, back to everything safe and sane that isn't this. He tilts his head, examining her.
"T-Talk? Now?"
She's still touching him, running her finger across his stomach, slowly. "Bobby, honey…you can't just walk into someone's bedroom and get tied up and spanked. There's…a way of doing things. We have to talk about what you want…what you need…what you like and don't like…we have to…negotiate."
Negotiate? What is this, a plea bargain? And suddenly, he was pleading. His hand shot up to his neck again, the other hand found his pocket. "P-please…please Dee, don't um…don't make me talk. If I talk, that will lead to thinking. And if I think, then I'll uh…I'll end up running down all five flights of stairs, running out of here." He moved closer to her, his hand leaving his pocket and circling her waist, coming to a rest at the small of her back. He pulled her, tight, against him, against the painful bulge in his pants. He was aroused and dammit, she was gonna know about it. "And I really" his words coming out in breaths "really don't want to do that right now." She opened her mouth to protest, unwilling to abandon her conduct. He quieted her with his mouth, pressed hard against hers, both arms around her. "Just don't leave any marks for the NYPD to find and we'll call it good, okay?" She smiled against his lips, and he could sense something happening. Something…changing. She brought her leg up around his body, and hooked it behind his kneecaps. With one quick motion, she brought him crashing to the floor, pain shooting across his knees and up his thighs. His massive frame shuddered as she wove her fingers into his short curls, tightening, and then yanking his head back to look up at her.
"Did I tell you that you could touch me?"
"N-no."
She leaned forward, her breath against his ear. "Then don't…fucking…touch…me." Her palm flat against his chest, she shoved him backward, and he hit the floor, hard. He stared up at her as she walked over and deftly placed her foot on his chest, not standing on him just…restraining him. His member throbbed with a ferocity he'd never felt before. Oh, you're gonna get it now sweetheart. "You gonna be a good pig now?" Her hands rested on her hips, feigning anger. Closing his eyes and sucking in a breath, he nodded slowly. He felt her foot slide farther up this chest, resting just below his chin. "Show me what a good pig you are." He felt the weight of her foot come off his chest and hover above his waiting lips. He dropped his jaw against his chest, mouth open, eyes still closed. Still unsure, he slowly stuck his tongue out and touched the bottom of her foot with it. He waited for some sign of approval. She gave none. He dragged his tongue upward, toward her toes. She let forth a small moan. "That's the best you've got?" Eagerly he shook his head in a 'no' motion. He had much more than that. In one big gulp, he took three of her toes in his mouth, sucking anxiously. His tongue pushed up between each toe, lapping and swirling. He watched her head fall back, a luxurious groan escaping her lips and filling the room. "Now that's a good piggy. You ready to get fucked little piggy?"
"God, yes."
"Then get off the floor." He did as he was told, scrambling to a stand. She had already started walking off, through her living room and down another hallway. Eagerly he followed her, taking notice of the lavish furniture and plush carpeting filling the room. The entire east wall was one big window, the city lights gleaming through the glass. He made a conscious effort to turn his brain off, and focus back on the beautiful woman leading him to her bedroom. He caught a flash of her kimono as she rounded a corner. As he caught up to her, the pattern on the back of her robe nearly leapt out at him. It was a black and red embroidered dragon, twisting across her back menacingly. She stopped in front of a door and sliding it open, stepped inside. The light came on just as he entered behind her. He felt his eyes go wide.
Bedroom, no.
Medieval dungeon, yes.
Several menacing devices took up every corner of the room. He instantly recognized the St. Andrew's cross, and a bench resembling a sawhorse, but padded, and with four smaller pads surrounding it. For the knees and elbows, he realized. He shuddered; hoping that particular piece of furniture wasn't in his near future. The walls were lined with whips, toys and other things he didn't even want to look at. There it was again, that dangerous train of thought. What the fuck was he doing here? Was he crazy? This woman could really hurt him. He's never done anything like this before. The thought suddenly appealed to him. He's never done this before. His time to reconsider had run out. Dee faced him now, with a smile that would give the Chesire Cat chills. Her hand came up to meet his chin, cupping it gently. "I'm going to change into something more comfortable. I expect you to be naked and on your knees when I get back, understand?" He shivered at the thought, but nodded.
"Yes ma'am." He had no idea what would possess him to call her ma'am.
Her grip on his chin tightened. "Ma'am is what you call your mother. You are to refer to me as Madame. Understand, pig"? The shiver overtook his body now, and he exhaled deeply.
"Yes, Madame."
She exited the room, leaving him with his thoughts, his fears, and his reservations. His throbbing cock demanded relief. He fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, the knot in his tie. Quickly he stripped his clothes off and, laying them in a pile beside the door, turned to face the direction she'd left in. Awkwardly, he lowered himself to a kneeling position, suddenly embarrassed at his jutting member. He felt the strange need to fold his hands behind his back. Reaching back, his laced his fingers together. And waited.
