A/N: Alright, I'm sure it's no surprise that this chapter is NSFW considering how we ended last chapter ;) Still, fair warning!
I don't think Delphine will be too impressed with my culinary skills, but it's not like I had much to work with. Still, by the time she returns from her shower, sporting another tank top, sweatpants, and a towel around her blonde curls, the sauce of crushed tomatoes seasoned with garlic and dry basil and oregano is bubbling away in the pan.
"Don't judge me," I murmur when she looks at me with an amused smile. "I did what I could."
"I didn't say anything," she retorts, shrugging and moves away, toweling her hair.
"No, but you were thinking about it," I say.
"You can't possibly know what was going through my mind," she continues, returning to the kitchen to grab plates and glasses, setting them on the table.
"I can guess," I respond, turning off the burner and turning to see her bending to retrieve a bottle of red wine from a base cabinet.
Her smile grows when her eyes land on me and she precariously tosses the bottle between her hands. "I really doubt you knew what I was thinking," she says, a pretentious little smirk on her lips.
"Okay," I nod and step out of her way as she reaches around to pull a corkscrew from the drawer. "You were thinking about getting me drunk and taking advantage of me," I joke.
"I don't need to get you drunk for that," her answer comes casually as returns to the table.
A smile splits my face without me realizing it, and I can't compose a response, too occupied cataloguing Delphine's every move as she twists the corkscrew into the cork, positions the bottle between her thighs, and in one smooth motion, opens the bottle with a promising pop.
The meal isn't too bad, all things considered, and the wine helps a lot. Delphine's disposition continues to improve, and I suspect it's because I didn't fight her over her advice to leave. Personally, I'm not happy about it. I wish I could've investigated further, not because I'm worried about Daniel's business ventures, but because I have the feeling that everything is connected. The failure of Sarah's mission, us landing a contract to infiltrate the Webster's organization soon after, Mariusz Baczkowski, and whoever he represents. The links are there, but pieces are missing which prevents me from seeing the whole picture. I thought I could use my remaining time to dig deeper, but Delphine's right, it's too dangerous for me to stay. Whoever's behind all this has a lot of influence, and I'm on their radar.
Of course Delphine remains completely unaware of all this and can't understand why I wanted to stay so badly, especially since she has gathered that I owe no loyalty to Daniel or any other Webster. I don't know what she thinks about my insisting on staying, perhaps suspecting I'm up to no good, whatever that means. Or maybe she's just glad that I'm not staying when she can't keep a close eye on me. Delphine has barely left my side since I arrived, except for the first twelve hours in Warsaw when I had absolutely no idea she was even here. However, I'm fairly certain Delphine knew the moment I landed, probably even before I checked in back in Boston.
"I don't want to sound ungrateful, but why are you still helping me?" I ask out of the blue and Delphine's eyes meet mine with an expression I read as confusion. "I mean," I try to clarify, "you have the same information I do, whatever I could get out of this trip, you have it as well."
"And?" She asks, setting the fork on the plate and reaching for her glass. "I should've left you to your own devices? Run away with the information we collected and not care about whatever happened to you?" She continues and there's a hint of hurt in her voice that surprises me. "Is that the type of person you think I am?"
Her words have rendered me silent for a few seconds, not really sure how to respond to her subtle accusation. No, I don't think she is that kind of person, but it's not like I know what kind of person she really is. The few character traits I've gathered were made through a process of elimination. I know how she is not, I don't know how she actually is, and it leaves many interpretations about her; too many gaps to fill only by guessing.
"I might not have the best way of showing it, but I do care about you, Cosima," Delphine says in a less demanding tone, her voice lowering a couple of octaves. "I worry about your safety. I know you don't like my help, that you doubt my motivations, and you're free to do so, of course. But you can't deny that, at times, you needed it. I don't need your trust to help you."
I sigh, watching her closely as she finally brings the glass to her lips and drinks an healthy amount. I do the same.
"So, if I told you that I want to leave now?" I prompt, setting the glass back on the table with my eyes steady on her. "If I told you I wanted to leave without letting you know where I would go or what I would do?"
"I'd advise you against it, try to convince you to stay," Delphine answers without hesitation. "But if you insisted on it, I wouldn't stop you. You're free to go if you want, I won't keep you."
I hum and quietly finish my meal while Delphine remains in silent as well. The calmness she exudes seems like a front. Although she says nothing, I know her mind is whirling. Her expression shifts slightly, and the muscles of her face contract into a frown that subsists until she's done eating. Then, without a word, she takes the plates and pan to the sink, and splits the remaining wine between our two glasses, leaving them on the table while she makes quick work of the dirty dishes on the sink.
Once she's done she stops by the table to get her wine and joins me on the couch, to where I've moved, watching her work in silence.
"Are you coming with me when I leave in the morning?" I ask, looking at her when she sits next to me.
She shakes her head. "I think it's better if we part ways," she says. "You can take the car, I have the bike."
"It's not exactly the best means of transportation if you need to take some baggage with you," I observe.
"No, it isn't," Delphine says before she drinks some wine.
Despite the fact that we've nearly emptied a bottle by ourselves, she's no less careful with her words, extremely aware of what she reveals. It wasn't something that crossed my mind when Delphine opened the bottle of wine, but as the night progressed, I was starting to wonder if this was an opportunity to get her to talk a little more. I even entertained the idea for a while, but now, with Delphine's clear-minded non-answer, that idea is gone. Evidently, it'll take more to catch Delphine's guard down.
It's not exactly the most noble thing to do, nor the most subtle, but, with that in mind, I finish my wine and smile at her.
"I think you should open another one," I suggest with a beam, shaking my empty glass between us.
Delphine raises a brow and looks me in the eye. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you're the one who's trying to take advantage of me," she comments and gives me a somewhat cold smile, reading my intentions perfectly. "But you wouldn't do that, would you Cosima?"
"That would be a pretty shitty move, wouldn't it?" I don't try to defend myself, it's obvious she's onto me.
"Hmm… yes," Delphine says after a deep breath, her eyes leaving me to go to the table where she sets the glass that she has emptied as well. "It would be a very effective way to ruin a perfectly good evening."
I watch as Delphine rises and crosses the room to her purse. She reaches inside, stops to take her coat, then walks out the door with a cigarette and lighter in hand. I'm rooted to the couch. My mind is blank, and I stare, unfocused on the door. When my thoughts come roaring back, it's a mixture of confusion and self-condemnation caused by Delphine's mixed signals. By now I should've been used to it, it's her trademark after all. And yet, I wonder if this time I'm not solely to blame. It seemed like Delphine was just looking for a calm, quiet night, she was as open as I'd ever seen, and I pushed too far. Definitely not the way to get her to open up - if there's a way at all. She's too smart and too attentive. My usual trick of charming people into giving me what I want won't work with Delphine, and while it can be frustrating, I should also see it as an opportunity to try a different approach.
Of course this is all good in theory and would probably work if it wasn't for the fact that I'm emotionally involved. Despite my best effort, I can't be detached with her. Every conversation evokes an emotional reaction, every interaction adds another layer to our already complicated relationship. Nothing is strictly professional with Delphine. I can't think clearly or be truly objective, and every time I try to act as if this is just another job I screw up. Because it's not just another job. And if I approach it that way, it comes out phony; my instincts fail me and, worst of all, she can see right through it.
I was right when I disclosed my reserves to Siobhan about doing this job. At the time, I used the excuse of my past with Delphine because she knew who I was, and although I'm not that same person, with her, the same rules don't apply. Of course I couldn't have predicted that so much would've remained the same when dealing with her, but the moment I was told Delphine was an element to this mission I knew that I couldn't be entirely objective. I downplayed it at the time, not wanting to show weakness in front of Ms. S, Sarah and Felix. And that was a mistake that it's too late to fix.
Another thing that I couldn't have predicted was how significant Delphine's role would be. When we were briefed for the first time about the job, Delphine was supposed to be only the fiancée to one of the sons of the target. And yes, that was bad enough, but it's turning out to be so much more complex. The homework for the mission was sloppy, incompetent and inconsistent, either intentionally or accidentally, and at least that's not on me.
When Delphine walks back inside, she barely looks at me. She's rubbing her hands together trying to warm them as she walks to the fireplace. She crouches in front of it, and extends her arms to the fire for a long moment before pushing the guard in front of the fireplace to contain the popping embers. Then, and still without saying anything, Delphine heads towards the bathroom and shuts the door. I hear the water running for a couple of minutes before she gets back.
"We should get some rest," Delphine finally speaks, but doesn't look at me, "We had a long day and tomorrow won't be any better."
I quietly watch as she pulls the covers down, gets in bed, and tucks them to her chin as she curls up on her side. I stay where I am for a while, turned on the couch, with my arm on the headrest, waiting to see if she moves. And although she remains perfectly still, I know she isn't sleeping.
After a moment I get up and go through my routine as well. When I exit the bathroom, I turn off the lights, and the house is dimly illuminated by the fire slowly dying in the fireplace. I look at Delphine, still in the same position, but her breathing is yet to even out. I am decidedly unsure, and stand awkwardly in the middle of the small cabin, not sure if I should join her in bed. Delphine has settled well to one side, leaving more than half the bed empty, presumably for me, and while we've shared beds the last few days, I find myself considering the couch. I glance over my shoulder, and while it is comfortable enough to sit or even have a quick nap, it's just too small to sleep through the night.
It's with some reticence that I pull down the covers on the empty side of the bed and slip inside. Delphine continues without moving, even as I settle in. Unlike the previous night, she doesn't scoot closer. Her back is turned to me and I feel the coldness of her empty response, find myself missing the closeness of her body, her arm almost possessively around me. The house is warm enough from the fire to offer the cold as a valid excuse. Having her close is a physical need that it's hard to shake and, more importantly, I don't think I want to.
It might be lust or maybe something deeper, scarier. Or it just might be the opportunity slipping away. I don't know when, if ever, we're going to have a moment like this, when the repercussions of my conduct are diminished, when we're alone and can ignore the consequences of unthoughtful actions, when the damage can be contained. Whatever rational justification I concoct it's really irrelevant. It won't change what I'm about to do and it won't change the fact that I know this might very well come back to bite me in the ass.
I slide closer to her, tentatively at first, unsure if my advances will be well received. But that fear disappears as I put my arm around her, and Delphine takes a deep shaky breath, as if she wasn't expecting my approach, and tugs my arm closer with her hand grasping my wrist.
I gently push her curls aside and drop a soft kiss on the side of her neck, gently testing the barriers to see if they budge, and I feel Delphine's body becoming more alive, pressing back against me. The hand holding my wrist quickly guides my touch inside her shirt, and I feel warm, soft skin. That's all it takes for my confidence to set in. This time there are no ghosts coming back from the past to haunt me. It would be impossible. Delphine is the one who drags my hand over the smooth skin of her torso and places it on her breast. I can sense her eagerness, the urgency of her touch, encouraging my own. I push myself to her, my groan muffled by her neck. It takes only seconds before she's turning and her lips are on mine, not gentle or hesitant, but anxiously craving contact, exploring without reservation. Her tongue sweeps along my lips, meets my own, then languidly pushes inside as if savoring the touch. My fingers continue to softly stroke her breast as her grip loosens, and then, she's tugging at my shirt, unskillfully, hurriedly. Her eagerness is growing, and her body presses more firmly against mine. When I don't help her in her task of removing my shirt, she groans and tries to push me onto my back with her hand pressed against my torso.
I'm reminded of our first encounter, when I let Delphine take over, and while I can't really complain about the end result, this time I'm not inclined to surrender to her demanding touch. I release her breast and move my hand lower, reaching the thigh that she has used to keep me close, curling around my leg and in a swift movement have Delphine beneath me, watching me with gleaming eyes when I pull back and loom over her.
My sight has adjusted to the weak light and I can see her sharp, elegant features form small frown as if she's somewhat disappointed by the role reversal.
"Not everything can go your way, you know," I comment playfully, lowering my head for my mouth to reach her lips.
Still, she responds, allowing me to seek pleasure in our kiss. Subtly, Delphine's hands go to my hips, sliding inside the t-shirt I'm wearing and moving up, smoothly traveling the side of my body and bringing the fabric with them.
"I have no problems with you taking over," she says when we part for her to take my shirt off.
I smile. "You sure about that?"
Delphine hums her agreement, but she has already sat up and her lips are soaring along my collarbone, trailing little pecks over my skin as I thread my fingers in her hair.
I chuckle, feeling her hands reaching my breasts and her mouth covering my left nipple, where she rolls her tongue slowly. My eyes close as I enjoy the stimulation. The dedication she puts into every gesture, the gentleness of her touch on my breast, the warmth of her breath against my skin as she continues to explore with soft kisses; it's a pleasant change from her previously avid pace. But that's not all I want.
I untangle my fingers from her curly hair and move my hands lower to pull her tank top over her head. Taking advantage of the brief separation, I push her back onto the mattress with a light, playful shove, not really strong enough to force her down, but she complies. Delphine's back is fully against the bed, but the contact remains, with her hands now on my hips, fingers finding their way under the cotton fabric of my sleeping pants. She's smiling when our eyes meet, eyes shining with a playfulness that I've yet to experience with her, but there's no doubt that I'm reading it correctly. Especially when her hands continue to move, not satisfied with a light touch and sliding lower, until she's fully palming my ass and pulling me to her.
I raise a brow at her, but it's not enough to discourage her from pushing my clothes down my waist as far as her position allows. That's as much as I'm willing to concede at the moment and instead of helping her, I pull slightly back and kneel with a leg on each side. I continue to slither backwards, tugging what's left of the covers away from her, and with one smooth motion, I slide her sweats down, and Delphine is gloriously naked beneath me.
For a moment I am frozen, enchanted as my gaze travels up her body, and when I finally meet her eyes, the confidence I see reflecting back at me makes me smile. She has every reason to feel that way; her alabaster skin seems to glow in the dim light coming from the fireplace, her slender form is graced by the luscious curve of her waist and the swell of her breasts. The muscled arms and shoulders exude a strength that she conceals well with her elegant posture. But it's more than that. It's a self-assurance that's born from within, that defies description, but is constantly present in almost everything she does.
The idea of breaking eye contact seems impossible, but I lower myself to kiss her hipbone, and it's Delphine who closes her eyes, sighing contently as her head falls back, and her hips rise almost imperceptibly. I settle between her legs, and steady her hips, holding her gently, but firmly, reveling in the feeling as her body begins to move against mine. My next kiss is to her other hip, lingering and intent, before moving to her navel and then up, along the sleek planes of her abdomen. Delphine's hands reach for me, and her fingers curl around the back of my neck. I drag my left hand up, stroking only with the backs of my fingers, until I find her breast, nipple puckering at my touch, and run my tongue softly across the pebbled flesh. A small gasp and a slight pressure from her hands betray her impatience, her restlessness. But I will be thorough. I don't give in to her demands just yet. I'm determined to keep her teetering on the edge, fully aflame before I tend to her desire. My zealous attention bears fruit when she groans, frustrated, and heaves me up until my mouth is on hers, and tugs at my lower lip as she moans and wraps her legs around mine, pushing my pants even further down. I feel her wetness against my skin as she stretches upward, placing her mouth to my ear, and I feel her breathing, rapid and shallow.
"Je t'adore," her whisper ripples down my spine.
I smile to myself and turn to meet her lips, because I feel the echo of her words on my own tongue. I adore everything about her. I adore how her breath catches as my hand slides between her thighs. How she responds to my kisses even while she moans quietly as my fingers open the lips of her sex, coating them with her arousal. How her breath hitches as I gently trap her clit between my fingers, stroking slowly as I feel her swell and twitch. Delphine's hips rise to hasten my movements and I slide through the wetness of her flesh and her hands cradle my cheeks, gently urging me to her long neck. I adore how she whimpers when, after a long brush over her core, I slip inside, and am welcomed by warm walls squeezing my fingers, and I can't stop my own sigh at the lush feel of her. I adore how her body coils around mine and one hand grips my hip as the other lowers to my chest to caress my breast as she gasps and bites her lower lip when I push inside her more firmly. Or how she can no longer be passive and sits slightly up, an arm moving to wrap my shoulders for more stability, and her hips dance to ride my fingers. When I push her against the wall behind us and increase the pace and strength of my strokes, Delphine moans deeply, but allows me the victory. Yet, her body doesn't stop. Her hips continue to thrust, pushing my fingers inside her, and her breath heats the skin of my neck where she has nestled her face. The hand on my breast loses some of the softness and the one around me clutches around my shoulder. The way I feel when Delphine whimpers my name as her sex grips my fingers and her hips jerk out of rhythm is nothing short of adoration.
The enthusiasm of her response catches me by surprise, and I rest my forehead on her chest, shuddering at the sensation of my fingers covered in her arousal as I move effortlessly in and out of her in a rhythm that can't last for long. Her hand leaves my breast and goes to my waist and I feel her nails bite into my skin as Delphine's body tenses, her deep, long groan fills the small room until a contented silence takes its place.
She holds me close, keeping our bodies in contact, but the tension in her muscles never really relents. Her touch remains tight and when her hands start to move along my body, barely a minute has passed and they're still demanding. I raise my head to look at her and am not expecting the hungry gaze that's still present. Delphine's smirk is almost predatory and suddenly she's pushing me down, taking advantage of my surprise.
"You said you had no problems with it," I complain half-heartedly, watching her climb over my body.
"I don't," she says casually, wasting no time in finally pulling my pants the rest of the way. "But I still need to have you."
"Oh… in that case…" I still manage to say.
My grin is strained, it's difficult to keep it together when Delphine is making room for herself between my legs. She manipulates my body skillfully, but she's tender, thoughtful of her every move. When she's satisfied she moves up to kiss me, slowly and gently.
She's not as urgent, her movements are not laced with an unquenchable hunger as our previous encounter. And yet there's something in the way Delphine touches me, holds me, drags her hands over my body and her lips along my skin, her tongue languidly swirling around a nipple, before continuing the journey south. It's the same thing I feel when she pulls me to her mouth and runs her tongue for the first time through my sex, firmly and without hesitation. I feel the strong muscle press against me and Delphine's hum of appreciation over my excited skin. It's something that I easily identify, a feeling of possession, lust mixed with the need to brand both of us. When Delphine's hands pull my hips closer, her mouth covering me entirely as her tongue slides slowly and deliberately along the side my clit making a shiver of icy pleasure to work its way from the back of my neck along my spine, it's not enough to disguise that need of hers. It's the same need I have when I lower both my hands and grasp her head, as Delphine sinks her tongue inside me. The muscles of my arms are tense, I try to control the strength I use when I tug Delphine closer, my entire body is under a delicious pressure, ready to snap at any moment.
I lose control of my hips, and they begin to rock against Delphine. She takes a firm hold, tongue never relenting. Even as my body seems to give up on me and I expel a throaty moan, she carries on until my hands release her. Still, she remains there, continues to kiss me gently, moving just a little up and resting her head on my belly. I keep my eyes closed, Delphine's fingers are back on my skin, designing her patterns with the fingertips running along my hips.
She feels me shivering, from both her caresses and the cooling down of my body and leaves one last kiss on my stomach before she moves up, bringing the covers with her. I still feel overwhelmed the moment our eyes meet, but it's much more manageable this time. Why this is, I don't know. But I don't feel so lost, and when Delphine's lips seek mine, I readily respond to her attention. She sighs against my lips and moves lower, placing her head on my chest, settling on top of me.
A peace falls over me, and I close my eyes once again, fingers mindlessly toying with the curls of her blonde hair. Delphine sighs again.
I'm totally and completely fucked, is my last thought before exhaustion takes me.