TITLE: Taking Me Over
BY: Link
SUMMARY: Summary? What's a summary for? I'm just about the smut. Oh, fine – I'll write something. Sark and Lauren need a quick meeting as the heads of the new cell and do what their eyes have been promising each other since the second she saw him in the dressing room…
NOTES: It's a short little smutty tale but I enjoy feedback as much as the next person so leave a message and tell me what you think. I'm always looking to improve or expand in my smutastic stories. The title is from Garbage's "You Look So Fine" which is absolutely perfect for a Lauren perspective on this fic. And there can't be anything associated with Sark without the obligatory Garbage song attached.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Alias or any of its characters, storylines, etc. No copyright infringement intended.
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Over and over...
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Lauren hesitated at the hotel door, her hand resting on the cold handle. She wondered, briefly, if he would know she was there. Would he sense her standing with indecision at the door? Anxious that he may, she silently took a deep breath, gliding into the room, adorned with her cool mask.
He stood at the opposite side of the room, his back to her. He didn't move when she entered. Was he so certain it was her or was he ego so great as to let him be unaffected by a body entering his hotel room without warning?
Gazing only at the back of him, she let herself speculate as to how he wielded such powers of persuasion. What inner self-assurance fueled his flawless skills and capabilities? And how did he draw trepidation from she, who faced terrorists far more dangerous than he? Or had she only thought them more vicious?
She saw his arm gracefully lift to his mouth as he kicked back some drink. His face turned aside slightly to greet her with, "Would you like a drink?"
He was pouring another glass when she let the door close behind her. "No," she hummed, smoothly. He had complimented her once on her acting abilities. Perhaps she could fool him again and mask her unease.
Sark turned then with glass in hand to face her. She slowed breathing at the sight of him. His eyes watched her with dark promise.
"Cole has arranged a location of operations for our cell," she began, professionally. "Because of my assignment, it has been assembled in Los Angeles."
His head inclined his understanding as his unwavering eyes held hers.
"It will be operational in a few days," she went on, hoping her voice did not betray her and reveal her heart accelerating. He seemed always to have the look of suggestion in his gaze but it was only now that it appeared quite more than that. His was a look of steady confidence; an unnerving certainty that conveyed he knew something she did not.
"I am returning to Los Angeles now," she informed. "I will contact you in a few days."
Lauren turned to leave, fleetingly knowing her quick retreat was just as obvious an escape to him as it was to her.
"Ms.Reed."
The coolness of his tone brought her feet to stop.
"It's a pity we haven't been able to get better acquainted considering how closely we are to be working together," he purred. "I do wish you would have a drink."
She stared at the door just ahead of her and willed herself to reach it. He is not like the others, she reminded herself. She would not be able to handle him as she could other men. Her mind put up a valiant fight but her body would not budge.
Turning cautiously, she met his eyes again. She was finished with her detached pretense. She was sure he could see her heart pounding in her throat by now or perhaps her light breaths. At that point, she didn't care and she was sure he saw that as well.
"I would like a drink," she admitted yet as he turned to fetch a glass, she added, "However." He glanced back and her rational composure had made an appearance, if only momentarily. "You can see quite plainly that I do not have a weapon," she said, spreading her arms and showing the sleeveless, light sundress that floated over her curves to reveal her shape. Glancing down his fully clothed form, she finished, "Yet, I do not have the same reassurance."
His hands lifted to the buttons at his shirt without hesitation as each one came undone. He never left her eyes as he shed the shirt, revealing his sculpted chest. Her dark eyes scanned over the naked flesh, making him even more excited than he had been when she entered the room.
He carefully unbuttoned the trousers he wore and let them fall to the ground, leaving only dark boxers as he stepped out of the pants and kicked them away. Her eyes slowly drank him in, unapologetically. He watched her chest rise and fall carefully while appreciating at his taut body.
"Your turn," he said lowly.
Lauren took a slow breath to steady her then her swift stride took her past him and straight to the liquor. His head turned slightly after she passed, hearing her pouring a glass and drinking it swiftly.
Still, her mind protested. The fears swirling in her head threatened to drown her with panic. Her lack of control around him disturbed her equilibrium as she attempted to quiet her alarm with the alcohol.
She sensed he turned, almost feeling his eyes smoothing down her back and thighs, her heart hammering in her chest. He was closer and she wished he would touch her; to culminate this deafening anticipation, pounding in her ears.
Lauren's hands were moving before she could convince herself otherwise. His eyes memorized each slide of her fingers over the light sundress as it slid away, leaving her in only the black lace. He was so fond of that lace.
She suddenly felt the lightest of touches - his fingertips gliding up her hip, slowly inside upon her stomach. His warm breath floated across her ear from behind and she swallowed hard as his hand splayed against her bare skin. She shivered slightly until he edged forward and she felt the hot press of him all along her back.
Lauren sighed and sank into him gently, her head only marginally tilting back. It was all the invitation he needed, though, and his lips suddenly floated along her neck sending a jolt of desire through her. His mouth was so hot, kissing and suckling at her that he was all she could feel, enveloping her completely.
His hands working down her thigh smoothed brazenly inside then froze. Lauren halted as well knowing his hand had come into contact with the knife strapped along her inner thigh. Carefully pulling it forth, he glanced at it before raising his brows with question at her. She gently shrugged and he allowed himself to smile slightly as he set the blade on the table nearby. He did truly enjoy their games.
Sark pulled back, she nearly voicing her displeasure until he guided her to turn to face him and began toward the bed, walking her backwards. Stopping next to it, he looked up into her eyes. Her hands were sliding up his abs then, feeling only the hard muscle, caressing and breaking down his own hard won self control. Sark brought her to him swiftly, leaning in to conquer her mouth.
His hands were sliding her bra away but she didn't notice. She could only feel him dominating her lips, the crackling taste of his tongue sliding against hers. She whimpered from the kiss alone and soon felt his hand slide into her hair to hold her closer, if possible. It brought her naked chest against his and her arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, reveling in the solid muscle of him.
Carefully his hands smoothed down her hips, dragging the lacy panties with them as he hungrily trailed his kisses down her throat, to her collar. Lauren stepped out of them; her hand guiding his head to pull him up to her mouth again - those glorious kisses missed – to which he gladly complied, taking her lips with his. His hand heated her breast with the double assault of his lips and hands; his thumb rubbing the hardened peak with appreciation.
Lauren was completely humming; she had never been so aroused, so untamed. She was sure it was no longer the mere excitement of losing her prized control with him but it was simply he, himself that evoked such a ferocious response.
Maneuvering them onto the bed, Sark hastily discarded his shorts then settled on top of her smoothly. She'd only a glimpse of his nudity but it was enough so that she was eager to feel him along every inch of her. Her body welcomed him, her legs wrapping about his thighs and his mouth invaded her again, spinning her mind so she could hardly keep track of what was happening. Her arms pulled him against her tightly, her urgency pulsing through her body like a drum.
As if understanding every hum, every quiver of her body, he immediately situated himself between her thighs. Lauren felt the hard length of him slowly sink into her, gasping at the girth. He pushed further, holding her backside firmly, until he was in to the hilt. A soft groan escaped him. He never imagined she would be so tight; that her heat would excite him so much more. She vaguely noticed his eyes shut, as though to gain focus. It was all secondary, however; Lauren could perceive nothing but he, deep seated within. Carefully, he pulled out and she whimpered, causing him to thrust back firmly. That drew a moan from both of them.
Lauren held onto his flexing shoulders as he began shoving into her, slow and hard. What little nails she had sank into his back, making him clench his teeth from the pain that only aroused him more. He rammed into her harder, faster, trying to quench the excitement that threatened to consume him. Lauren met his thrusts, reaching for her climax that rose and rose until he gave it to her with one properly placed dig.
She exclaimed as it shook through her and Sark grasped her long hair desperately as his powerful drives pushed her. It crashed over him suddenly and he let himself cry out from the force of it. It was the most magnificent orgasm he had ever had and it resonated through his body like great waves. He could have sworn he even felt her going through reverberations as he went through his.
Their breathing was all that filled the room as they became still. He slowly rolled away, lying on his back and she stared at the ceiling, feeling his warm release between her legs.
What seemed like long moments past as they collected themselves, not only physically but mentally. A random gust of chilled air brought her to and she pushed to sit up abruptly. His eyes followed her as she moved with haste to find her clothes. After successfully managing enough on to be publicly decent, Sark watched her escape his hotel room without a word or second glance at him.
And she absolutely did not mention that he was the only man she had ever met who shook the very core of her reason and sensibility. Even though she was sure, despite her greatest attempts to conceal it, he sensed as much.
She vowed never again to allow herself to be swept up by his overpowering current. Then she speculated how realistic that scenario was and wondered how long before he would call for her again.
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