A smirk pulled at Chichi's lips as the announcer excitedly narrated Hercule's match. She gave her head a small shake as she dipped her brush in the paint again, more listening to his match on the TV than actually watching it. She didn't need to watch. She knew he was going to win. He hadn't been the reigning world champion for over two decades without being the best.
She sat back and looked over the canvas with a critical eye. A sigh escaped her lips. She was a bit bored with her paintings lately. They all just sort of seemed the same. Landscapes, pretty little country scenes with muted colors. Something her mother would've hung on the wall, now that she thought on it too much.
But she had little else to occupy her time. Hercule was often out of the house during the day, either fighting or making public appearances, and Madeline was busy overseeing the other staff. Chichi still trained with Ryan most mornings, but the rest of the day she had nothing better to do. Oh well. At least it was something.
She barely even noticed when Hercule was announced the winner of his match. She was proud of him, of course, but it was no surprise. That opponent stood no chance. At least his match was here in the city today. It wouldn't be long before he was home.
Chichi tilted her head as she looked at the painting. Maybe a lake would look nice… As if she didn't already have half a dozen of them with lakes already.
Hercule was happy to be back home. It seemed he was very busy the past couple of days, or was it weeks by now? Between helping Chichi reconcile with her past and the demands of his own profession, it hardly seemed like he had a moment to himself. Upon arriving back home that afternoon after his matches, he learned from Madeline that Chichi was up in the room that they had refitted into a little painting studio for her. Apparently she'd been painting for most of the day. He always liked to see what she had accomplished. He gave a knock on the door before he opened it and poked his head inside, smiling as he saw her moving the brush carefully over the canvas.
The painting was good, but it seemed a bit, he wasn't sure how to word it. It seemed a bit too dull. Maybe it was a reflection of her state of mind. "Hey there, Little Lady."
Chichi gave a little jump at his voice; she hadn't even heard him knock, she was so wrapped up in what she was doing. "Hi," she smiled over her shoulder as she set aside her paint. She looked down at her hands to make sure they were clean. They were always clean. She was rather proud of the fact that in all the paintings she'd done, she hadn't gotten a single drop on his floor. "I watched your match today," she said as she went to him and sweetly kissed his lips. "I knew you'd win."
He couldn't stop the smile that tugged at his lips and he pulled her closer to him, settling his arms around her as he looked down at her. "I always fight my best when I know a lovely lady is cheering me on," he said as he leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose before he pulled back. "Sorry I've been so busy the past few weeks. Seems like work never wants to stop. Someone always wants a piece of the action." He sighed but grinned the next moment, "How about we go do something fun? You look like you could use a break yourself."
Her smile widened. "Sounds good to me," she said. She clicked off the light in her little studio and walked out into the hallway with him, slipping her arm around his waist. It always felt so much better to her when he was at home. "What did you have in mind?" she asked. "We could soak in the hot tub if you're sore from your match. Though I have to say, it didn't seem like that guy gave you much trouble."
Hercule laughed and led her down the hallway as he tipped his head back in thought. "True, it was hardly a warmup." He grinned at her, "I could go for a real match with someone who really knows how to throw a punch and I know for a fact you could have danced circles around that guy. How about it? Want to put me in my place? Then we can soak in the hot tub together." He let his hand fall to her waist, as they walked together, his feet taking them in the direction of the gym.
"That sounds like a plan," she answered as they entered the gym. "I've been sitting most of the day, save for a quick training session with Ryan this morning. I need to move around a bit anyway." She was still in her clothes from training that morning and she pulled her hair up in a tight bun before she moved to stretch a bit, trying to work the stiffness out of her muscles. "You sure you aren't too worn out? I'd hate to embarrass you by beating the world champion," she teased.
The Champ dropped to a stretch, working the kinks out of his knees a moment before he moved to the middle of the room, grinning. "So confident you are. I like it when you're feisty," he teased back at her as he moved into a casual defensive stance, "Do go easy on the old man, sweetheart." He watched her, admiring her form as she did her own stretching. "Though I'd be happy to just watch you like this."
She was bent double as she stretched and she realized he was standing directly behind her. She jerked upright, her face blushing again. Even after all these months, he still managed to make her face burn. "You're horrible," she stated matter-of-factly as she walked out onto the mat. "Shame on you. You're going to pay for that one." She let out a long exhale as she stepped into her stance, her arms raised, her expression serious as she locked eyes with him, prepared for him to make the first move.
He couldn't help but laugh, a warm spreading through him. "Mm, I think I'd like that too much. Make it hurt a little if you do." He grinned before he switched his stance to the offensive and jumped closer to her, throwing a complex barrage of punches and kicks. It wasn't the fancy-for-show fighting that he would do to spice it up in the ring, to get a wow from the audience. This was just plain and simple fighting. It made his heart soar.
Chichi dodged and blocked his attacks, watching his every move carefully. Sparring with him still made her far more nervous than sparring with Ryan. She wished she could shake that, could separate Hercule completely from Maxwell in her mind. Yet somehow, the reservations were still there. She silently cursed her husband, that he still had so much influence over her. She countered his attack, throwing him a couple kicks and punches of her own, but then fell back to blocking his again.
Hercule grunted as she landed a few good kicks on him, making him fall to one knee, forcing himself to quickly jump up again as she aimed a few more for his head. He had almost forgotten how good she was at this and he reminded himself that she had once done this. Her training with Ryan was showing for sure. He went on the offensive once more, growling out as she easily danced away from his grasp as he kicked out, throwing a punch at her retreating form. "Bah! Hold still!" he laughed, his hand opening and grabbing for her.
Chichi laughed as she bounced on her toes. "Like I'm going to make it easy for you," she teased back. Her eyes went wide as she felt her hair fall loose from its bun and she stopped at the same time Hercule grabbed for her. Fear lanced through her chest as his hand tangled in her hair and she cried out, her knees buckling under her. It was as if Maxwell was right there; she could see him as she squeezed her eyes shut, dragging her through the house, spitting insults at her as she clawed and kicked out helplessly. "STOP!" she begged.
Hercule's eyes went wide at the sudden change in Chichi's demeanor. His hand and fingers tangled in her hair and he immediately let go, pulling back from her and standing up straight as she sank to the floor. He remembered back when she had gotten her hair stuck in a tree branch and she had a melt down. He could have slapped himself for that one, he knew better than to do that, though it made him angry. It was yet one more thing that Maxwell still had over her. That fear controlling her every step of the way. "I'm so sorry, Little Lady. I didn't mean to grab you like that," he said kneeling down where he stood, giving her some space.
Chichi trembled all over and shook her head without looking at him. "Not your fault," she gasped, trying to control her breathing. She hated herself for still letting Maxwell control her. "I know you wouldn't…" she trailed off and shook her head again, swallowing harshly. She rubbed at her face and drew a deep breath to calm herself before she looked at him again. "It's okay," she said, though it felt like she was reassuring herself more than him. "I'm okay."
Hercule moved until he was sitting on the floor of the gym, breathing out evenly until the adrenaline running through him lessened. He sighed and leaned back on his hands as he watched her a moment more. "It doesn't seem okay to me," he said carefully as he leaned forward. He knew it was a problem. He had even touched her hair one time during sex and it hadn't ended well. He was sick of Maxwell and how he still loomed over their heads. "You need to work through this, break this chain he has on you. Take back what he's taken from you."
"How?" she whispered, her heart still racing. She wanted it to stop. She hated the way it made her break out in a sweat, the way her knees and hands shook, her stomach coiled into knots. It was just so ingrained into her that she didn't know if she'd ever be over it. "I can't stand this," she admitted in a tiny voice, barely above a whisper. "But I can't help it. I can't make it stop. I can't make this feeling go away."
"Repetition," he said as he thought about it. "We just have to retrain you into thinking that having your hair pulled isn't a bad thing, that Maxwell isn't the one standing over you." He reached out, watching her carefully as he placed his hand on her head, loving the feeling of her silken locks on his calloused hand. "Shhh, it's alright," he said softly as he let his fingers curl into the strands, tugging carefully, "Talk to me, Little Lady. What do you see, feel when I do this?"
A panicked whimper escaped her throat and she jumped as he held onto her hair. "I see him," she answered, her words rushed as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to tremble. "I hear his voice. Dragging me down the hallway, smashing my face against a doorframe. My stomach hurts. I can't breathe. I can't breathe." She tried to swallow the scream in her throat as she pulled back from Hercule. Tears burned her eyes as a sharp pain tugged at her scalp. Her hand went to his, trying to pry it from her hair. "I can't do this!"
He held on firmly, but not too tightly. "Yes you can, Little Lady," he said calmly as he reached up to the hand trying to claw at his own that was in her hair. He brought it to his own head, letting her fingers curl there instead. He wanted to throttle Maxwell and smash his face into a wall for everything that he had done to this woman. A bit of hot anger lanced through him at the thought of Goku and the others, her own sons letting this happen to her. Curse be damned. He shifted his fingers in her hair, moving down a little and grabbing more. He also let his thumb and forefinger rest at the base of her skull, moving in soothing circles. "I'm right here. Breathe."
Conflicted emotions swirled through her. Panic from her hair being pulled, yet the urge to lean into his touch as he massaged her head. She kept her eyes closed as they continued to burn. She was afraid of tears falling if she opened them. "I hate this," she choked out. "I hate him." In her mind, Maxwell dragged her into the bedroom and forced her to her knees, his free hand working his belt loose as he snarled the most disgusting words at her. She gagged and clapped a hand to her mouth, her legs moving as if she wanted to kick out at Hercule or writhe away from him. She tangled her fingers into his hair, resisting the urge to yank the curls. "I don't like this!" she whimpered.
He moved his head back, smiling softly as he felt her grip his hair tightly. "Fight back," he urged her, "Go on. You can do it." He massaged her head, moving so he was facing her more head on and reached up with his other hand to tangle it into her hair as well. He gave a little tug, watching her reaction. "What did you want to do to him, when he grabbed you like this?" he asked her as he tipped her head back, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her throat before he pulled back and watched her again.
"Bite him," she answered a little too quickly. She'd thought about that a million times. But she knew better. He'd have knocked her teeth out without a second thought if she'd done that to him. She tried not to gag again as the vision in her mind progressed and she finally had to force her eyes open before she relived it all again. But even as she saw Hercule before her, the memory still stuck out in her mind. Her neck felt warm where he'd kissed her, stirring up even more conflict in her chest. It was too much. She didn't feel ready for this. "Let go," she growled through her teeth as she pulled back at his hair, her other hand on his chest, pushing him away from her.
"No," he said, his fingers still going in circles at the base of her neck. "You have to make me. Where would you bite him?" he asked, moving to kiss her cheek, nuzzling into it affectionately. "His face? His neck? If he forced himself on you, did you want to bite off his dick?" He was crude, he knew, but she needed the push. She needed to face this. He gave another small tug to her hair.
Chichi lashed out without thinking and slapped Hercule across the face. Her eyes went wide a second later and she let go of his hair, fresh tears springing to her eyes. "Oh god, I'm so sorry," she breathed, horrified at her own actions. She'd had enough of this. She couldn't handle it. "Let me go. Let me go!" she cried, wanting to put as much space between them as possible. She felt the panic start to take over and she twisted in his grasp, clawing at his hands, his forearms as she tried to get away. "Hercule, I said let me go!"
"He's not going to let you go so easily, Chichi. You have to face this now. Should the worst ever happen and he somehow gets you in his hands again, what will you do then? You will be so scared that you can't even move. You won't lash out at him because you will be afraid of what he is going to do to you." His cheek stung where she slapped him, but he deserved it. It kept him focused. "You'll have to bite me to get me to let go. Or try harder," he said, every word killing him.
Anger flared in her at his words. He really wasn't going to let her go. "I'd bite you, but your dick is still in your pants," she spat as she pulled her knee up and kicked at his chest, throwing herself backwards. She felt her hair rip from her scalp as she fell back, but she didn't care. It barely even hurt, she was so angry and frightened. She leaned back on her elbows, breathing heavily as she stared at him for a moment before she shook her head and got to her feet. She didn't know whether to apologize or to shout at him. Instead, she turned on her heel and marched from the room.
Hercule winced as he watched her go, looking down at his hands and seeing the strands of dark hair entwined in them. It was a shame, she had the best hair. He shook the strands away and stood up, rubbing at his own head. "Madeline is going to kill me for this one."
He cursed under his breath and went for the cooler of ice water to pour himself a big glass before he sank back down against the wall. He wasn't sure what he had wanted to happen. He wanted to help her get over that fear of her hair being pulled, but grabbing her hair and then trying to get her to work through it was obviously not the answer. He should have let her go when she asked him. It made him sick to think he had just done that. Everything he said he wouldn't be, he wouldn't do, he just did.
Chichi saw only red as she stormed through the house, not even aware of where her feet were carrying her. How could he do that to her? He knew how much it terrified her. She'd tried so hard to not hold him responsible for the things Maxwell had done to her. Now it was as if she couldn't separate one from the other. She knew he was trying to help, deep down in her heart she knew that, but she couldn't wrap her mind around what he'd just done. She never wanted to feel that way towards Hercule again.
She threw open the door to her studio and turned to slam the door shut with all her strength. "Asshole!" she screamed at the closed door. Angry, frightened tears slipped from her eyes as she began to pace the floor, running her hands through her hair, trying to erase the feeling of his hand there. She gave a choked cry as her hand came away with more strands of hair in her fingers. She brushed them away quickly and let them fall to the floor.
Her eyes went to the nearly finished landscape still sitting on her easel. A scowl crossed her face. It was ugly. Boring. And suddenly she found that she hated it.
She grabbed up a tube of red paint and popped the top off, letting it clatter to the hardwood floor. She screamed through clenched teeth as she squeezed the tube and swiped at the canvas. The red paint splattered across the mountains and the lake. Oh, there was something liberating about that. She did it again and again, her mind working at a furious pace.
"Fucking asshole," she growled. "How dare he?! He knows how that makes me feel! I can't handle that!" She went to the canvas and smeared the paint across it with her hand in a vicious swipe. "I hate Maxwell! Why can't he just leave me alone? GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" She brushed her hair out of her face, the red paint smearing across her forehead and her long strands of raven hair. "Stupid men," she continued on to herself as she angrily slapped the canvas.
She was sick of feeling so helpless. So sick of being at the mercy of men. She was stronger than that, wasn't she? Where was that part of her that used to be fearless, the brave fighter she used to be? It was as if she'd lost her. She didn't want the anger, the hatred of who she used to be. But she wanted her confidence back.
"Goddammit!" she shouted as the paint tube emptied and she threw it against the wall, the paint leaving a spray over the pristine white. "Oh to hell with it," she hissed and grabbed up a tube of black. "I am done with being controlled! I am SICK of hurting! I'm tired of being afraid!" The black paint sloshed over the red, the previous landscape gone now.
She worked herself into a frenzy, barely noticing the painting as she just vented her feelings on it. She cursed everything and everyone around her. Her ex-husbands, Hercule, Arthusia, herself. She let the swear words fly, words she rarely ever used, but they just seemed to release her frustration in a way other words wouldn't. "Fuck, shit, fuck this fucking shit!" she rambled.
She rubbed at the back of her neck, the sweat there. The room suddenly felt stifling. Her shoe slipped in the paint on the floor as she went to the window and threw it open, letting the cool early spring breeze flood the room. Oh, that was better. She leaned heavily against the open window, drinking in the fresh air as it washed over her heated skin. Her fingers swiped over her face, the wetness there. Was that tears or sweat? She wasn't sure.
The room was full of those boring landscapes she'd painted. They sat on the floor, leaning against the walls. Her eyes twitched as she looked at them. There was something about them that just didn't set well with her. Perhaps it was their mainstream nature, something anyone would expect to see hanging in someone's house. There was nothing special about them. They were empty, no more special than the canvases had been before she painted them.
She grabbed up another and smacked the black and red painting from the easel, letting it topple face-up to the floor. She cringed internally when she realized this one looked nearly the exact same as the mountains and lake she'd just covered before. Good gods, she was a creature of habit. Was she really so one-dimensional? What was so wrong with going against the norm? Why did everything have to be so stiff, so formal, so perfect all the time? Had these months with Hercule taught her nothing?
She went to some larger cans of paint she'd set aside and quickly pried the tops off. Without hesitation, she plunged her hands into them and turned to the canvas, the paint dripping from her fingers. She stared at the canvas for only a moment before she threw her hand forward. "HA!" she cried. Her hand never touched the canvas as she moved through the martial arts movements, flinging the paint at it, pausing every now and then to dunk her hands again.
Hercule had finally gotten up his courage to go to Chichi and try to fix what he had done. There were other ways to get her over her fear of Maxwell and he had picked the worst route to go. He had thought to go to her room, but he heard cries coming from the room they had made into her studio. It sounded like she was fighting with someone and his eyes widened, wondering if somehow Maxwell had gotten inside. He broke out into a run and flung the door open, "Chichi!" he shouted in worry and stopped dead at the scene that greeted him.
There was paint EVERYWHERE. The walls, the ceiling, the floor. He almost missed Chichi entirely as she was covered in paint almost as much as the canvases around her. Gone were the landscapes that lacked personality and in their places stood statements, emotionally covered canvases without any care for color or precision. It was rather breathtaking. His eyes widened and he stepped into the room, letting the door close behind him as he looked around. His gaze finally landed on Chichi and his heart beat a little faster. She was streaked in every color, a brilliant red in her hair that made her seem so much more dangerous. He wanted to kick himself. Now was not the time to be turned on.
He could see a fire in her eyes when she turned towards him and he held up his hands. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I did that. I'm nothing but a big, dumb asshole who did something unforgivable." His worries only increased as he saw her pick up an entire bucket of paint and advance towards him. "Ah, shit."
"Sorry?" she asked dangerously. "I told you to let go. I told you to LET GO!" She flung the paint at him, watching in satisfaction as it splashed across his chest, his pants, his face, some even in his hair. Her shoulders shook and she threw the bucket of paint on the floor with a resounding clunk. "What the hell is the matter with you?!" she demanded. "Don't you know how hard I struggle to separate you from him in my mind? And then you pull some shit like that? Acting like him?! Goddammit, Mark!"
"Yes, I screwed up! I was trying to give you a chance to face your demon! To fight back with no repercussions! No, it was a stupid idea, I know. For a moment, I became my father and that is the last thing I ever wanted. I just wanted to help you. I…" He stopped and wiped the blue paint from his face. He could feel it seeping into his clothes. "Chichi, you know I would never hurt you unless you asked me to, and even then it would be with reservations! I was an ass for doing it the way I did. I'm just so tired of seeing you hurting. Seeing you doubt yourself or look over your shoulder in fear. I want to help you."
"I know you're trying to help! But making me afraid of you isn't going to help anything!" she shot back. She stared at him for a long moment. "I don't ever want to see that side of you. I don't want to think of you like that. That isn't who you are! That's not the man I fell in love with!" She gasped the second the words left her lips and clapped a sticky, paint-covered hand to her mouth. What a way to confess her feelings for him.
He blinked at her a moment, his heart pounding at the words that she shouted at him. It seemed as if the whole world grew silent and he wasn't sure what he was feeling. A giddy feeling bubbled up inside of him and he felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips and he relaxed his posture, walking towards her. She was a vision. Surrounded by open cans of paint, covered in it. She was a work of art herself and it was stunning. He stopped in front of her, looking down at her. "You love me?" he asked, unable to wipe the smile from his lips.
"Yes," she answered breathlessly as she looked up at him. There was no point in denying it. She loved this man in a way she'd never loved anyone before. She felt her knees shake again, but this time it was for a completely different reason. She swallowed nervously as she stared into his eyes, those warm blue eyes that she loved so much. "Didn't you know that?" she asked softly.
"You did just throw a bucket of paint on me," he teased her. "But I deserved it. You still love me even after I hurt you in an unforgivable way? Are you sure?" He reached out and cupped her face carefully, searching her eyes for sincerity.
She gently leaned her face into his touch and nodded. "Yes." She curled her hand around his, her heart racing. "When you grabbed my hair and you were kissing me, being gentle, it was like… like I thought maybe I could replace the old fears with something new. But then when you acted like him, it frightened me. I know that's not you. You aren't like him. I know you didn't mean it." She let her eyes close for a moment and she swallowed again before she looked at him. "I love you."
He smiled wider at the admission again and he leaned down, picking her up and spinning her around. He sat her down a moment later, reaching up with his hand to cup her face, the blue paint on his hands smudging her cheek. He chuckled, "Oops." He leaned in and kissed her. "I don't deserve such a wonderful woman like you. Not after what I did," he said as he brushed his thumb over her lips, unable to stop his laugh at the blue that painted them.
Chichi shivered at his touch. "No. You deserve a woman who's sane, who can control her emotions and her fears," she answered. She bit the inside of her lip. "You deserve someone better than me. I'm sorry for the way I reacted." She stepped even closer to him, her free hand twisting into his. "I don't want to be like this anymore."
"If you didn't react, I'd be more worried," he said as he leaned over, dipping his hand into the nearest paint can, it was yellow. "You are so perfect. Flaws and all. I would be honored to have you at my side. For you to be the first person I see when I wake up and the last one I see when I go to sleep at night. Despite how this might sound, I love you too, Little Lady. If you can forgive me for my blunder earlier. And for this," he said as he dragged his hand over her face and ruffled her hair with the yellow, grinning widely at her.
Chichi gasped as her eyes went wide. One second her heart was fluttering in her chest at his admission, and the next he just had to pull that. "And now you ruined the moment," she scolded, although her tone betrayed the words. She tried not to smile, but couldn't stop it. She jumped and wrapped her arms around his neck, smothering his mouth with her own, her face pressing against his. She pulled back to rest her forehead against his, smirking at the yellow paint mixed with blue on his face now. "Shame on you."
He grinned and wrapped his arms securely around her. "I'm a bad, bad man. You really should punish me." He looked all around them. "But first. I think we both are entirely too CLEAN for this room." He set her down and picked up the first can of paint he could reach and threw it on the floor before he gestured to her to pick up another one. "Come on, this is good for the both of us. I just hope this isn't lead based paint."
She laughed at him and kicked another can of paint over, smiling at the way the two colors marbled on the floor. Her clothes felt sticky and strangely stiff. "I think these clothes are ruined," she said, feeling bold as she pulled her top off and cast it aside. "It's a shame. That shirt looked good on you. But it's no good anymore. I think you should lose it."
Hercule smirked at her and faced her as he stripped off his shirt. "I think these pants are ruined too," he said and kicked those off as well, exposing himself completely to her. He looked at her, his body responding as he let his eyes trace over her creamy white flesh. Her round breasts seemed entirely too clean for his taste at the moment and he went to her supplies, picking up a tube of red paint. "This really is more your color, Little Lady," he said as he walked over to her, coating his fingers with the contents of the tube before he traced intricate little patterns over her nipples and breasts with his fingers.
Chichi shivered as the cool paint traced over her skin, her sensitive flesh. Her mouth went dry at the sight of his firming length and she shimmied out of her pants, kicking them aside. She trailed her hand up his bicep to his neck, leaving a swath of paint over his tanned skin. "Mark," she breathed and leaned up to kiss him again. "Take me. Right here, on the floor."
He groaned at the request and picked her up, wrapping her around him as he settled them on the floor into the spilled paint. He didn't want to press any into her, so before his cock could be dipped into the paint, he pressed deeply into her body, groaning loudly as he rolled them over. He shivered as his back was now in the cool paint and watched with keen eyes as the colors dripped over Chichi's shoulders and down her front. "Gods you are so hot like this," he breathed and bounced her on his cock once, twice. He reached out, dipping both of his hands into the paint before he reached up to grab her hips, watching as he traced the colors over her. He painted a heart around her belly button.
Chichi gasped out in pleasure before she giggled at the sweet gesture. "Oh gods," she breathed as he filled her body perfectly, his hot, thick length stretching her. She scratched her nails over his chest, catching on his nipples, leaving lines of multicolored paint there. She ground herself down on him, riding him slowly for a moment as she debated. She knew she was asking for trouble, but it had almost worked earlier when he'd kissed her in the gym. She leaned over him, squeezing her walls around him as she breathed in his ear, "Pull my hair."
Hercule gave a strangled cry as she clenched down on him, but he froze the next moment at her request, his eyes going wide. "Chichi. Are you sure? I don't…" He shook his head, "I don't want to hurt you any more than I have today. You deserve better." His head snapped back as she gave a rock of her hips on him and he reached up, cupping her breasts, smearing more paint over them.
Chichi moaned at the feel of his strong hands on her breasts. "I want to try," she whined as she bounced on him. "I want to get over it. Replace bad memories with good ones…" She paused and moaned as the head of his cock hit her cervix, making her see stars. "Just promise to stop if I tell you to stop. Please, Mark?"
He nodded. "I promise," he swore and sealed it with a kiss, tasting the paint on their lips. He reached up as he pulled her down to him, tangling his fingers into her paint drenched hair, holding her to him as he plundered her mouth with his tongue, moaning into her as he drank deeply. "Gods I want you," he breathed against her before he gave another sharp tug.
She struggled to control her breathing as fear rose up in her chest again. She locked eyes with him. He was NOT Maxwell. Hercule wouldn't hurt her. She told herself that over and over again as she continued to ride him, drinking in the pleasant sensation of their bodies meeting. His hand in her hair made her heart race even more, which seemed to heighten everything around her. She felt her shoulders shake, but she didn't pull away, didn't cry out, didn't tell him to stop. "I trust you," she breathed.
"I won't hurt you. Ever. Little Lady. Chichi. You can trust me. Tell me to stop, and I will stop. No questions asked," he said as he thrust up against her. "I don't ever want to betray your trust. I am so stupid to have thought like that. I just wanted to help you. That's all. To show you that you could be strong, in control and still be the selfless woman that you truly are."
A rush of affection for him warmed her and she leaned down to kiss him again. Yet his hand seemed to almost restrict the movement, a sharp pain pulled at her scalp, and she felt that fear once again. Surely he would keep his word, right? If she told him to stop, he would stop? The angry way he spoke to her before flashed through her mind and made her shudder violently. She had to know, had to make him prove that he meant what he said. "Stop," she said, her voice calmer than she expected. "Let go of me."
So soon she was testing his word and he wanted to make good on it, to make up for his mistake earlier. He quickly let go of her, dropping his hands down to the floor into the paint with a little splash. It would kill him if they stopped now, he wanted her so badly, but if this was the price he had to pay, he would do so gladly. He watched her carefully, not moving a muscle as she worked through everything. "I've got you, Little Lady. It's okay," he said softly.
Chichi bowed her head, breathing steadily through her nose for a moment as she calmed her nerves. She gave a tiny nod of her head before she finally looked at him and managed a smile. "Thank you," she said quietly and laid over his chest to kiss his lips again. A soft moan escaped her as she pressed her hips against his again, feeling his length shift inside her. She nibbled on his ear and breathed hotly into it, "Do it again."
He swallowed thickly, a deep moan escaping his lips as he thrust up against her. He lifted his hand and allowed it to tangle into her hair messily. He gave a slight tug before he pulled her to him, kissing her deeply. He turned her head to the side and buried his face into her neck, sucking a hickey to life.
Chichi cried out at the feel of his hot mouth on her skin. "Oh gods," she whimpered. She could feel that aching heat building within her as she plunged herself down on his cock, pushing her closer and closer to that edge. Her eyes rolled in her head, her heart raced. She was so close. She gasped out, turning her face to look at him again. "Pull harder," she said, digging her nails into his shoulders as her toes curled. "Pull harder."
Hercule grit his teeth, his cock pulsing, throbbing inside of her. Her words only made him harder and teeter on the edge of that blissful release. He shifted then, sitting up and pulled her more firmly in his lap. He tugged her hair, sharply pulling her head back so her throat was exposed to him and he devoured the skin presented to him, moaning hotly against her as he sharply tugged her hair. "Gods, I'm going to come, Chichi. You make me so hot I can't stand it."
Everything was a whirlwind of emotion and sensations in that moment and Chichi felt as though she couldn't grab on to one certain thing. She felt fear and excitement at the same time, love and anger, all of it mixing strangely together as her head was forced back and she stared at the few paint splatters on the ceiling. She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly as she bucked helplessly in his lap. Stars burst in her vision as she came, her body clenching around his thick length until she hurt in the most delicious sort of way. "Oh gods, yes!" she gasped out. "Come for me, Mark. Come for me!"
Hercule came with a cry, his hips snapping upwards as he did. She was so tight on him and it was utter perfection as he pressed her close to him, his grip on her hair failing and he just rested his arms around her waist. He kissed at the skin of her collarbone beneath his lips, sighing out as he rode out the waves of orgasm. "Oh gods, Chichi. That was good. Are you alright?"
She leaned her forehead against his shoulder for a moment as she trembled in his embrace. "I think so," she whispered. She hugged him tightly as she tried to process everything in that moment. What an incredibly emotional day. It was hard to make sense of. She finally pulled back to look at him and managed a small smile. "Thank you," she said softly. "You're so patient with me. I don't deserve someone as wonderful as you." She knew she wasn't over her fear of having her hair pulled, but she felt as though she'd taken a big step forward towards conquering that fear.
He snorted against her, looking up at her. "I don't think I deserve your thanks. Not for what I did to you earlier, but you have my word it will never happen again. I was too lucky for you to give me a second chance." He smiled at her. "Thank you for that, Chichi," he said as he regarded her a moment more. With the heat of the moment over, the chill of sitting in wet paint made him shiver and he looked around at the mess they had made. "Now this? This is art." He smiled at the explosion of color on all of the canvases and the room itself. "This is good. I've been wanting to repaint this room."
She giggled. "Good! Cause it's a little late if you didn't," she answered. She smiled at him, the paint on his face, in his hair, and she hugged him tightly again. She peered over his shoulder at the room. She couldn't recall ever making such a huge mess in all her life. And she found that she loved it. It was beautiful. "You're amazing. I love you, Mark."
He chuckled and kissed her. "And I love you, Little Lady. Now. I think we need to have a few showers. I have paint in places that should never, ever have paint," he said as he lifted her off of his length, moaning softly as he slipped out of her. He carefully pushed himself up, his feet slipping only once or twice as he did, grinning at her as he looked around, nodding at the work. "We should see about putting this up in a gallery. Ode to a Woman Scorned."
Chichi gave his arm a playful slap. "You're so silly," she scolded as she made her way over to the door. "No one would want to see that." She frowned as she opened the door and peeked down the hallway. "The coast is clear, but oh! Madeline's going to kill us if we track paint all over the floor!"
He peeked out over her shoulder, looking at the deserted hallway. "Nah, we'll just tell her we're redecorating." He grinned at her and slipped his hand into hers, letting his fingers curl around her own before he tugged her out into the hallway. "Come on! Before someone sees us!" He laughed as they bolted for his room. He was sure no one wanted to see a naked, painted Champ and his lady love darting through the mansion.
Chichi squealed as he pulled her down the hallway and up a set of stairs to his room. "Hercule!" she scolded as he slammed the door behind them. "We could've just went across the hall to my room!" She couldn't stop the giggles as she looked him over. "You're a mess," she said, her eyes trailing over the paint that covered his skin.
"Pfft, where would have been the fun in that?" He grinned at her and turned her towards the mirror in the room. "And I'm not the only one who is looking good right now." He laughed at her expression in the mirror. "We'd better shower together, make sure we both get all the paint off of us. I imagine it's going to take a few tries."
It took Chichi a moment to pull her eyes away from the reflection in the mirror. The swirls of color over her skin were mesmerizing. She finally smiled at him and nodded. "Sounds good to me."
Author's Note: And now I suddenly want to have sex in paint. *sigh*