This could be set anytime Mikita are together. Nikita is too horny to rest after an injury.
Although it took Nikita way too long to settle into bed and lay comfortably against the pillows, she reached for Michael. She wasn't ready to go to bed just yet. She knew she needed to rest, and she knew that there wasn't much she could do with her injury. But she wasn't tired. In fact, she was completely restless. She needed to be active. She needed to move. She needed to be with Michael after the mission they had experienced. Rest and healing could wait. She was going to get what she wanted right that second, "Come here."
Smiling softly, Michael lovingly kissed Nikita. After he had helped her into bed and had made sure that she wasn't in pain, he had planned to leave her alone for the night. While she slept, he was going to review their latest mission with the others and discuss what it meant for the team moving forward. But when she reached out to him and urged him to come back, he just couldn't resist following the command. He would absolutely give her a kiss goodnight. Especially when she asked for it.
What he wouldn't do, however, was deepen the kiss. Nikita had been badly hurt out in the field. She was going to live- thank God. But she could barely move, and she could hardly breathe. Bruised ribs were a standard in their line of business. Their muscles were always pulled, battered, and poorly treated. Cracked ribs were a little less common. Usually, they'd sustain one after a horrific event. The bones then took forever to heal because they just had to keep moving. Several broken and damaged ribs were an anomaly. That didn't happen unless they had gotten into some serious shit. So, of course, Nikita broke several ribs. She went into the worst of the fray to save the others, and she was terribly rewarded for it.
Fortunately, her team rallied together to help her heal and to keep her from moving. The latter was the extremely difficult part. Nikita couldn't stay still to save her life- literally. Michael struggled just asking her to go to bed early. It was going to be an awful healing process, more so for the team than for her. They'd just have to watch her like a hawk, and fight her every single time she was too stubborn for her own good.
Her stubbornness reared its ugly head as she kissed Michael. Whereas he kept the affection soft and sweet, she deepened it into an impassioned frenzy. Nikita needed him. She needed to makeout with him. She needed his hands all over her, ensuring that they were both very much alive. And she needed him inside her. She didn't care about her injuries or severely setting back her healing process. The pain was nothing compared to how much she wanted Michael. She had to feel all of him; she needed to breathe the air he was breathing to know that they were there, they had survived, and they were going to be okay.
Michael really wanted to climb into bed with Nikita and remind himself with every touch that she was alive and in his arms. But she shouldn't move too much. And he'd never do anything that'd hurt her. He had to save their 'holy shit we're alive' sex for after she could take a full breath of air. He was perfectly fine waiting if it meant that she'd be one hundred percent okay. Though, it did take all of his will power to break away from the kiss, "No. You're injured."
"But I wanna fuck," Reaching for Michael again, Nikita actually whined. There was no point in beating around the bush. She wanted to fuck Michael's brains out, and she wanted to cum so hard that she forgot her own name. She'd suffer the consequences to her actions later. She just wanted to have sex, life-affirming or otherwise.
"Shift your hips. Better yet, take a full breath of air," Michael dared. If Nikita couldn't breathe, she couldn't have sex. It was that simple. He wasn't worsening her injury just so they could get off. Sex wasn't that worth it.
"I'm horny," Nikita didn't even try to do what Michael had said; she knew she couldn't. But that didn't have to hinder her. She could work around her injury. She was positive she had sustained worse injuries and had done more active things despite them. Okay, maybe not exactly. But she could argue it.
Sighing, Michael leaned down for another kiss. Nikita hungrily pressed her lips against his. She reached to pull him closer to her, yet she had to stop herself from moving her arm too far. Her range of motion was drastically limited. But she was determined to work with that. And Michael was determined to prove her wrong. He moved her blanket and let his hand wander along her thigh. When he dusted his fingers along the crotch of her sweatpants, she was already moaning. She tried to cant into his touch, grind her hips against his hand. However, the instant she moved, sharp pain shot up her side. Nikita bit her lip so she wouldn't curse.
Immediately, Michael pulled away from her. He dropped his hands to his side and stepped completely out of Nikita's reach; she couldn't attempt to reel him back in. Honestly, though, she was fighting her pain too much to even try. She just looked at him helplessly. Michael flashed her a gentle smile. When she was able to return the expression, he moved back towards her and fixed her blanket. He ensured Nikita was comfortable, then he placed a tender kiss on her forehead. She seemed to finally relax against the pillows, so he finally decided to leave her alone, "Sleep it off."
Nikita huffed as Michael turned off the lights and left the bedroom. Sleeping was far more easily said than done. The pain she had felt just making out with Michael should've gotten her out of the mood- it somewhat had. However, she was still worked up; she throbbed, and she knew her underwear was soaked. She wanted her mind to melt away during sex. The recent operation needed to be forgotten. All she should've breathed and felt was Michael.
She didn't want to think about the even more disastrous turn the mission could've made. She didn't want to think about how if she moved in her sleep like she usually did, she'd wake in incredible pain. She didn't want to think about how she couldn't even sit up on her own. She could get stuck lying down. She could be in the worst pain she had ever felt in years, and she could be trapped in one position. Nikita couldn't breathe; she couldn't move. She was stuck. She was going to be stuck in bed. Pain would consume her, and she wouldn't be able to escape.
There was absolutely no way Nikita could sleep. Anxiety rose through her chest and choked her. The fact that she already couldn't breathe made it worse. She needed to distract herself. The television remote, her phone, and her tablet were all out of reach, so she couldn't rely on entertainment to battle her anxiety. And breathing techniques were definitely out of the question. She needed something else to calm her nerves and wear her out so she could sleep.
Her hand was down her pants before she put more thought into it.
Taking off her sweats wasn't worth the trouble. She could touch herself just fine with her underwear still on. Nikita did have to move her legs, however. It was easier to do so with her blanket off. Slowly, she removed it and shifted her legs. The slow easy movements were manageable, which relaxed her greatly. She was going to be okay. It'd be alright.
She'd still have to numb her thoughts before she'd be able to sleep, though. Without any hesitations, Nikita plunged her fingers into herself. She stifled her moan by biting her lip. She didn't need to draw the others' attention. She knew she should be still. She knew she should rest. There was no need for a lecture. Besides, she was only masterbating. It wasn't as though she was having the most active sex ever. Rubbing her clit would get her off without any trouble. Then, she could sleep and rest like she needed to.
Closing her eyes and picturing the last time she and Michael had had sex greatly helped. Nikita rubbed her wet clit with one hand, and slipped the other under her shirt to squeeze her breast. Although she had to force herself to not move her hips, she was quickly approaching orgasm. She just pictured Michael kissing her and rubbing her clit with his strong fingers instead of her slender ones, and she became dangerously wet. Her heart bounded in her chest, and soft moans broke out across haggard breaths. That hurt her ribs a little bit, but she could push through. She needed to. If she just moved her fingers faster, she'd cum.
Footsteps outside the bedroom door forced Nikita to abruptly stop. She had been so close to orgasm, yet she couldn't get caught. She recognized the steps as Michael coming to check on her. If he saw her masterbating, he'd get on her for not following one simple instruction. Instantly, she removed her hands, righted her clothes, and pretended to be asleep. Hopefully, he'd go away soon and she'd finally finish. Otherwise, sleep would never be an option that night.
Michael had only wanted to double-check that Nikita was okay. He knew being unable to move could send her into a panic attack. He wanted to ensure that she was alright and could sleep peacefully through the night. When he cracked the door open to their bedroom, however, he heard her breathing weirdly. It wasn't as though she was gasping for air. It sounded like she was attempting to even it out. Concerned, he turned on the light.
One good look at Nikita and Michael instantly knew what she had been doing. Her chest hitched with each breath. Her cheeks were flushed. Her brown eyes, that had opened when the lights came on, were full of lust. And she clutched her sweatpants. She had been touching herself and had barely stopped when he came in. He sighed deeply. There was no dealing with her. The best way to help was to cave, "You're so fucking stubborn."
Closing the door, Michael moved to Nikita and started to undo the knot in her sweatpants. She was stunned into silence by his actions. She had fully believed he would've lectured her about the importance of staying still so she could heal and not worsen her injury. Instead, he slowly and carefully pulled down her pants and underwear. She guessed that he had realized giving into her stubbornness was easier than anything else. After all, she'd do anything he said if it helped make her cum. She even nodded eagerly to his stipulations, "I'm going to go slow, and you're going to stay still. The second it hurts, I'm stopping."
Ever so slowly, Michael helped Nikita bend her knees and spread her legs. He didn't need to tease or torture her. Not only had she worked herself up enough, but he also didn't need to bring her to an earth shattering orgasm. He just had to make her cum, simple as that. He slipped his fingers inside her very wet heat, and she moaned. Her hips tried to lift, but he gently held them down. That made her moan louder, the sound whiny and low. He pumped his fingers in and out and swirled them around her clit. Already, she was so close to an orgasm. He couldn't help but curse, "Fuck. What were you thinking about?"
"You," Breathily, Nikita admitted. Dropping to his knees on the side of the bed, Michael kissed her. He cradled her head with his free hand, and he kissed her softly. His tender affection helped keep his fingers slow, and it helped keep Nikita still. Everything was so gentle. He moved his fingers in her wet heat deliberately. He rubbed large, slow circles against her clit as he slid his fingers lightly in and out. She moaned into their kisses, and she clung to him tightly. Yet her hips stayed still. Kissing her harder, he smiled.
In order to breathe easily, Nikita broke from their kiss. She kept her forehead pressed against Michael's, however. He nudged her nose with his and kissed her cheek. In contrast to her earlier harsh moments, his soft rubbing against her clit made her pulse and twitch. She was more moans than breath, and her mind had sufficiently numbed as it only focused on her rising orgasm. She was about to cum in Michael's hand. He helped her by gently holding down her hips and pressing his talented fingers hard against her clit.
Gently, Michael coaxed Nikita through her orgasm. He continued to move his fingers lightly and kiss her cheek tenderly. She held him even tighter so she didn't writhe. She could just focus on the numbing feeling washing over her, replacing her anxiety with bliss.
When her waves of pleasure eventually ceased, Michael removed his fingers. Nikita pulled him in for a languid yet powerful kiss. He beamed throughout it. They soon separated so she could settle her breathing in small, simple breaths. He slowly helped her redress, relax against the pillows, and snuggle under her blanket. He triple-checked that time that she was completely fine, then he kissed her forehead. She hummed in contentment. He continued to smile brightly at her, "Feel better?"
Nikita rolled her eyes as she smiled. Michael gave her one last loving kiss before he moved to the ensuite bathroom. For a moment, she wondered why he was going in there, then she noticed his hard-on in his jeans. He had definitely been turned on by what he had done to her. Yet he wasn't going to act on it; he'd rather take a cold shower and try to calm down on his own. Nikita rolled her eyes again. Michael didn't have to be so gallant all the time. He was allowed to be selfish too, "What about you?"
"I'll be fine. I can sleep it off," Michael smirked. Nikita attempted to throw a pillow at him to shut him up. Except, the action instantly caused pain to explode along her side again. She did her best to control her reaction to it; she tried not to scream or writhe. But there was no point. Michael was by her side in an instant (he certainly wasn't turned on anymore). He did his best to soothe her and help her settle back down. After a few agonizing moments, she was able to relax. She glanced at him wearily. He couldn't stop himself from laughing. It was definitely going to be a long healing process, yet he'd be by her side the whole time. They'd make it out okay.
