Song Suggestion: Ashnikko- "Daisy"

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I wasn't even sure if anyone would respond since it's been so long. But, apparently, I have the best readers in the fandom. I'll try to update every two weeks!

Give the Unexpected

Coral

Coral cracked open an eye, withholding a groan. Her stomach hurt; her head hurt, but at least she had enough sense to stay silent. It only took a few moments to know she wasn't in her bed or any place she knew. Rough cotton sheets scratched her back, and she grimaced with the feeling. Whoever owned this bed really needed to up their thread count.

She carefully opened her eyes, making sure nothing surprised her. No one was in the room, and the door was closed, probably locked.

She studied her surroundings, as if she could discern the man's intentions. The room gave no clues. It was bare, except an odd vase on a side table full of wildflowers. There were other feminine touches as well: a bottle of perfume on the dresser, a blue dress peeking out of a closet, a lipstick on the side table. Displayed in a bookcase were an odd assortment of books, most heavily used. Most were Ancient reprints. She wondered if the man knew her father held the originals in his study. After the war, he allowed them to be copied and distributed to the districts.

She had been so stupid, naïve to think everyone had good intentions. There could be several reasons for stealing her, but none of them were good.

But this man underestimated her. Coral made this mess, and she'd clean it up herself. She didn't need her brothers or her uncles or her father.

The doorknob jiggled, a key inserting into the lock. It clicked, and Coral acted asleep again.

She steadied her breathing, only allowing her eyelids to open the barest sliver.

Vick entered, holding a glass full of water and a bowl filled with popcorn and other junk food. He walked over and set them on the side table. After, the man sighed and glanced at her "sleeping" form. Most notably, he looked at her bare legs since she had nothing covering her, and her dress was outrageously short.

Coral knew she should be repulsed by the stare, maybe scared. She'd had to sit through an awkward conversation with her parents in her later teens about why she should be wary of men, that they could force her into sex, or worse. Humans began as predators, and some men still retained the same brutal nature.

But the way he looked at her, slowly, as if enjoying each second following her curves, made pleasant tension curl in her lower belly.

She blamed it on his looks, dark and pensive, grey eyes striking against his olive skin tone. He knew he looked good too, based on how he cut his hair to perfection, styling it so the hair on top tousled just a little, in a way that made her want to reach out and brush it back.

Sure, she planned to murder him, but at least he was nice to look at in the meantime.

Vick gave another heavy sigh and went to a closet coming out with a light blanket. He worked on draping it over her, smoothing down the edges around her, just barely grazing her outline. It did funny things to her. If he continued, she'd start leaning into it.

Her lack of sexual contact was really fucking her up, she decided.

But then one of his hands went to her hair, picking up a curl and twisting it around his fingers, and she knew she needed to stop it before he took more liberties. This instant.

In a fast move, she grabbed the blanket and threw it over his head, wrapping her arms tight around his neck.

Losing balance, he fell back, crashing into the bookcase and taking her with him. The books tumbled out onto both of them. Coral kept her arms wrapped tight, until he flipped them. Much stronger than she anticipated, he pushed his arms out, and the blanket fell away, tangling as they rolled. She slammed her elbow several times into the side of his head, hard enough it had to hurt. Oddly enough, he never hurt her back. It took a moment to realize he handled her like glass, blocking her moves expertly, even more gentle than Lorcan ever did.

Finally, he managed to grab both her arms and pushed her hard away. She rolled to the side and leapt to her feet. He stood slower, pushing the blanket away with his feet. He glanced at the crumbled ball it made with an amused smile.

"Now—" he started, but she didn't let him finish. In one motion, she grabbed the small toothpick shaped metal stick attached to the hem of her dress and made a flick motion. It elongated into a knife, just as she made a running jump toward him. She aimed for his chest, but he managed to twist to the side, and she missed by a few inches. Not wasting time, she aimed it up toward his head. Again, he ducked back, his reflexes faster than she expected.

Before she could strike again, his hand struck out and grabbed her wrist, squeezing hard enough her grip loosened and the knife fell on the floor.

They both glanced at each other for a moment in silence, before she followed her father's advice.

Give the unexpected.

She clocked him under the chin with her free hand, hard enough his head clicked back. But not hard enough to damage him since it wasn't her dominant hand. He glanced back down, looking almost delighted.

"I guess I deserve that," he said. "But I'm done playing games, princess."

His foot went to her ankle and gripped it like a fishhook, yanking her backward. She stumbled back, and he landed on her. Before she could do anything, he grabbed both her hands and yanked them above her head with his face right above her. His powerful body kept her from moving.

She was trapped now, so she stopped struggling to conserve energy.

They both breathed hard, finally at a stalemate. He brought one leg up and pushed it hard through her legs, forcing them apart.

It caused a sudden spark of fear in her.

"What are you doing?"

He grimaced.

"Not what you're thinking. I'm not going to hurt you." Their hips pressed tight together with him between her legs. She was still in her short red dress, so there weren't many barriers. He glanced down at her in amusement. "I just need to check your Uncle Lux didn't leave any more surprises."

Vick reached in his back pocket with one hand and extracted a set of handcuffs, placed them on her wrists, and attached it to the foot of the bed. After, his hands trailed down gently, brushing along her sides and reached the hem of her dress, pressing the cloth between two fingers looking for hidden weapons.

"Are you going to search every part of me?" She teased, eyeing him carefully.

He glanced at her in surprise, as if pulled out of some hard concentration.

"Eventually."

It sounded like a promise. Despite the implications, this was the exact position she wished to end her night in—legs spread with a beautiful man between them. The fact he kidnapped her was just a minor complication. A situation she would get out of soon.

He was right about her having more weapons, but they were in places much harder to find. She only had one on the hem.

"Is your name really Vick?"

He gave a smile, as if for himself.

"My real one. You'll learn the other later. Truly, you should feel honored I let you call me Vick. No one else can."

She rolled her eyes.

"Why am I here?"

He shrugged.

"Leverage."

Against her father, he left out. Though she already suspected that.

His hand accidently slipped while touching the inside of the dress, brushing against the skin on her upper hip.

It caused a burning sensation to erupt across her body.

"Sorry," he said. He didn't meet her eyes.

It gave her an idea. A terrible idea, sure, since she also suspected he was part of the rebellion fighting against her father.

But he seemed a little flustered with her, embarrassed, or maybe aroused, but attempting to hide it from her. She may be inexperienced, but she wasn't that stupid. She tilted her head, examining him, watching as he bit his lip, while brushing his hands along her hips, trying to feel for any inconsistency in the stitching.

Wrong place, she wished to whisper. But then he'd stop his exploration, and she decided she didn't want him to do that.

A terrible idea, she reminded herself. But, really, with the way life was going, this was all she got. Coral wasn't worried about escaping. Lux gave her so many things, she was almost a walking weapons store.

The first item on the agenda was to distract the man holding her down. She wished to break this chivalrous act he presented. Wanted to see what he'd do if she pushed. He body burned at just the thought. When else would she ever be in this position? After this, her father would lock her in a room and throw away the key, and she wouldn't get another chance for years.

In a spontaneous moment, she brought her legs up, wrapped them around his body, and tilted her pelvis hard up against him. Something dark and heady passed through her, and she wished to press repeatedly.

"Fuck," he whispered, eyes closed. And then as if he remembered, he grabbed her hips and forced them toward the ground. "What are you doing?"

But when she pressed up again, finding him already hard against her, the only thing separating them a thin piece of underwear and his black pants, he made a noise at the back of his throat.

He pushed her hips back down again, away from him, but she could tell it was hard for him. He leaned down close, lips hovering over her. His grey eyes glared down at her in suspicion.

"Stop that," he said.

She gave a wicked grin. This close she could smell him—a woodsy scent, maybe part sunshine. Something that grew outside. It was pleasant, and she took in a deep breath.

"Stop this?" This time she pressed her hips tight and tilted her head to the side, kissing the skin right below his jawline. He shuddered against her, holding her tight for a second, and as if he couldn't help it, gave a slight rock forward against her.

She gave a little gasp, and instead of encouraging him, it seemed to clear his thoughts. He glanced down at her with a frown, holding her hips. Though he didn't move them away, keeping them pressed tight together, as if he couldn't push her away even if he wanted to.

"I know what you're doing," he said. "Stop trying to distract me and tell me what else you have on you."

"Or what?" she grinned. "No, I think I'd rather you continue the search. They could be in so many places."

He groaned.

"Princess, you're playing a game you don't understand. A game you can't win."

Coral let a darkness pass over her expression, and then she tilted her head down, letting her tongue flick out and rub against her lower lip. He watched it, distracted despite himself. Regardless of what people thought, she saw the stares men gave her. She knew what she could do with a slight sway of her hips, a single glance.

Vick was a man just like the rest, desire dripping from his eyes. His erection hard against her underwear proved that.

"Am I losing?"

She moved her hips up, brushing against him. He leaned his head back with a low groan, the cords of his neck showing.

"Keep doing that, and I'll go ahead and deflower you."

That gave her pause.

"How do you know I'm a virgin?"

He gave a roughish grin.

"I didn't, but now I do."

That pissed her off. She lifted her back so her chest pressed up, breasts pushed against him, nearly spilling out of her dress. She felt his jagged breaths, his heart beating hard. His hand went to the middle of her lower back, brushing up her spine, as if she'd hide a weapon there.

"I'm going to kill you soon." Coral reached up, biting the edge of his throat hard. Vick gave a sharp breath of appreciation. Then she brought her lips to his ears. "But a night with you might be fun."

Vick jolted against her, as if on the verge of losing control.

"As you wish," he said and pushed her hard into the ground with surprising force. Both his hands reached down and tugged the hem of her dress up until it pooled around her waist.

Then his hand went to his pants, unbuttoning and pushing down the edge of his pants until they rested around his thighs, leaving only his boxers. He was about to tug the waistband down.

"Wait," Coral said.

The man stopped, a dark smile on his face.

"I thought you wanted my cock deep in your cunt?"

The words, so vulgar, made her insides shiver. She'd dreamed of losing her virginity so many times, but the reality scared her. He seemed to already know this.

"I just…" She couldn't explain and looked away.

"You were just trying to manipulate me, so I stopped searching, and at the last minute, you'd probably attempt to kill me. Maybe you'd have really fucked me… or maybe not. But you're too inexperienced to follow through. I already know, Princess."

"Stop calling me that."

He gave an amused smirk that showed his dimples, and it no longer looked so charming. He grabbed her hips, digging his fingers into her flesh, once again pressing her tight to him. She felt his erection through his boxers, as hard and hot against her underwear they might as well not be wearing anything. He moved again, letting his dick drag against her. It sent delicious spikes of energy through her body.

"Tease me again, Carthage, and next time I'll follow through."

He dropped her and stood up, bringing up his pants and buttoning them.

"I think I'll let you sit there for a while. It can't be comfortable. Maybe after a few hours, or days, you'll be more… talkative. I can't trust you until you've been declawed."

He leaned down and picked up the knife Lux gave her, examining it with appreciation. Then he walked to the door and opened it. But before he exited, he gave one look back to her on the ground, handcuffed to the bed, red dress pooled around her waist, a murderous expression on her face. His eyes flicked up and down. The stare held something she didn't understand, looking like pain or longing. Maybe a type of chaos that threated to make him lose control.

And she already knew he was the type of man that liked to always be in control.

"You're more dangerous than I thought."

Coral

Five minutes later, Coral got control of her anger. A fire stayed in her belly, a desire so powerful, she wished to slip her hand down and relieve it. How dare he mess with her mind. Because he played a game too, he just didn't expect her to reciprocate with her own.

Too bad he didn't search her more, or he'd probably find more toys. Or not. She made sure to hide them well.

"Spider," she whispered, activating the technology. She felt it heating up in her ear. The center of one of her dangling earrings popped out and crawled along the side of her head. She always hated the feelings, but it couldn't be helped. "Unlock," she ordered.

The spider did as she wished, crawling to the handcuffs. Moments later she heard a click, and the handcuffs released. She rubbed her wrist to get the feeling back, though Vick didn't tighten them as hard as he could have.

"Spider, deactivate." She withheld the shiver as it crawled back down her arm and up to her ear, attaching back into her earring, unable to be noticed even by the trained eye.

"Thanks, Lux," she whispered. She'd wished to tell him it worked great, since occasionally his creations flopped.

She got up, straightened her dress, and sat on the bed in thought. Throat parched, she downed the glass of water in a few gulps. The popcorn and junk food disappeared fast as well. Now well fed, she could think better.

She could escape now, especially since he still thought her locked to a bed. She'd slip through the window, doubting anyone guarded it. And once she was out, he wouldn't find her again.

But what would that obtain?

A moment of realization struck her so hard she nearly fell off the bed.

She was in a rebel stronghold with a man she suspected to be of importance. Or at least not a lackey. She was exactly where her father wanted to be. She knew they tried to infiltrate the organization with spies and already failed.

Her father always treated her as if she couldn't contribute—as if she was weak, breakable, naïve— but she was far from helpless, and it was time she proved it.

And if by the time she gathered enough information to leave, she ended up in Vick's bed, she wouldn't complain. Just the thought sent a pleasant thrill through her.

Because for the first time in her life, she found a man who was handsome, strong, willing to fuck her, and unafraid of her father. Though he should be afraid of the last one, because she suspected her father knew she was kidnapped and already murdering people. But, really, when would another opportunity like this present itself?

Coral gave a grin and made her plans.

Coral

She explored the room in depth. What she thought was a second closet was a small half bathroom with a pedestal sink and a toilet, but no shower sadly. There wasn't anything else in there except a new toothbrush and toothpaste, which she used. Her makeup was the type that easily melted with water, so with the hand towel, she took it off, leaving her face bare.

In the dresser drawers, there were clothes of all types, folded neatly. She brushed her hand over them, wondering whose bedroom this was. When she opened the closet, she found several dresses and comfortable shoes, including the heels she wore last night, the red a contrast to the rest, wealth nestled against poverty. It was all hideous, cut and color, and not something she'd ever pick out on her own. Pedestrian was the word grandmother Carthage would have used.

But the dress she wore to the club was uncomfortable, so she slipped it off her body and grabbed a pair of blue pajamas. They fit perfect, almost too perfect. An eerie thought came to her. Were all these clothes for her?

No, they couldn't be.

But she held an odd suspicion they were.

Coral

Coral woke up to someone shoving her shoulder.

"Go away," she grumbled.

A click answered her.

She opened her eyes to find she was looking down the barrel of a gun. An outdated one, but it could still blow her brains out. Vick had an expression that looked like a wolf's snarl.

She rolled her eyes and snuggled back into the pillow.

"How about we do this in another hour?"

He ripped the blanket from her.

"We're having this conversation right now."

Coral groaned, giving a little stretch before sitting up. Vick still held a gun to her head, but she ignored it.

"Put that away," she said. "You aren't going to shoot me, and we both know it. You need me too much."

He looked at the gun, frowned, but then holstered it. He sat down in a comfy chair near the bookcase, legs spread, looking at her as if she was a puzzle he couldn't figure out.

"How did you get out of the handcuffs?"

She gave a grin and leaned back, enjoying herself. Her curls were wild, she knew, as they always were in the morning. Unlike the day before, she doubted she was as tempting, especially in the hideous pajamas and no makeup, though his eyes kept roving over her.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I would, actually," he said. "I would also like to know why you're still here, sleeping, dressed in pajamas, instead of attempting some bullshit escape."

Coral gave a little laugh, feeling a little delirious.

"I thought I already told you I ran away. As far as I'm concerned, this solves my problem. I get a few days respite from my overbearing father, and maybe I'll even be touched in naughty places… if I misbehave enough."

She winked at him, and his lips twitched, hand gripping the edge of his chair.

"What did I say about teasing?"

"I've always enjoyed danger."

"I can tell." He studied her again, as if he could see past the layers of clothes, as if he remembered being between her legs last night, each of them stealing little gasps. "I've taken your dress. It's being examined by our scientist. He already found a piece of glitter that could be removed and when activated erupts into flames."

"Is that all?" She said with a grin. "You need to tell your scientist to search again. Though you look really concerned. Maybe you could start where you stopped last night."

She led her hand over her hip as if in invitation. He gave an adorable frown, eyebrows scrunched, as if unsure whether to believe her. The light filtered through the window blinds, hitting his eyes in a way that lit them up.

"Stop," he said.

She slipped out of bed, standing up. He tensed but didn't move as she walked closer. His body looked made of stone as she crawled up on his lap, legs bent on either side of him. She put her lips next to his ear.

"Are you going to handcuff me again if I don't?"

She wouldn't fight him. He showed last night he'd win against her in combat. He was trained at some point. Maybe at one of the Battle Schools.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Do you want me to?"

There, he finally played the game too. She brought her hands down, untucking his shirt. He hissed as her nails scaped against the hard muscles on his stomach, tracing the ridges. Then her hand went to the holster and pulled out the gun, placing it to under his chin.

He smirked.

"It only responds to my fingerprints."

"I know," she said. "I've played with guns like these all my life."

She moved her lips to hover over his own, only a thin piece of air separated them.

"Bang." She pulled the trigger. It didn't do anything but click, but she felt Vick grow hard under her.

"You're distracting me again," he said. "You have several more weapons and tools you aren't showing me."

She did. Some of them she hid around the room before sleeping, some she still had on her body. Though he'd have to undress her to get to those.

"Oh, I won't keep them secret forever," she promised. "You'll see them in time. But…" she whispered, nearly touching his lips. "I don't see why we can't have a little fun in the meantime."

"You need to get off me." His hands tightened harder into the chair, as if trying to anchor himself. "Before you start something I won't stop."

She wished to know what he looked like out of control. Wished to make him do things he probably thought he shouldn't. She got the feeling he wanted to see himself as a hero, stealing from the rich to give to the poor. A rebel fighting for the people.

And a hero didn't take advantage of their captive.

But he was no Mockingjay. He wasn't her father, battling evil. She wished to make him see the only villain in the story was himself.

"I don't want to." Her hands slipped up the shirt further, enjoying how he felt under her fingertips. She placed a hand over his ribcage where his heart thumped furiously, despite trying to be still like stone. With every pass of her finger over skin, goosebumps erupted under her touch.

"You're just manipulating me."

"Am I?" She let her fingers trail to his back and scratched. He gave a shiver against her. "Is it working?"

"You have no idea who I am," he said. "What I'm capable of, or my motivations. You should be afraid of me because my plans for you are probably ones that would scare you."

She let herself pause a moment.

"Plans?" She asked, fluttering her lashes. "Are you going to torture me? How cliché. Kill me? How wasteful." She let herself smirk. "Fuck me? Well, that one has merit." She scratched harder. "Maybe I have my own plans. You should fear me too."

He searched her face, eyes landing on her lips. Maybe he did fear her, in his own way.

They stared at each other, lips millimeters apart, each daring the other to make the first move. Every line in his body tensed up and then loosened.

"Fuck it."

In one hard movement, he brought his hand behind her head and pressed their lips together. He moaned into her mouth, and she gasped when he bit at her lower lip. She opened with the pain, and his tongue slipped inside her mouth, much softer than the rest of him. He tasted sweeter than she expected. It took her a moment to respond, still shocked at the change of events. But then she melted against him, her hands left his back and tangled in his hair.

She'd imagined her first kiss many times. Soft and romantic, possibly under the moonlight. This was none of those things. It was hateful, heated, scorching. She pressed against him frantically, only running on an instinct. It felt consuming, like she'd combust if she stopped.

He stood up abruptly, walking her backward, tugging her legs around his hips. Instead of the bed, he slammed her back into a wall.

His lips left her mouth, kissing her throat, giving love bites on the tender flesh.

"I warned you."

She pressed against him, shocked when his hands found the back of her pajamas, jerking them down her bottom. She helped him as he tugged them off her legs, and then rewrapped her legs around him. Unlike last time, she didn't hesitate with the implications. His lips set her on fire, and if he didn't help soothe this, she really would kill him.

He no longer kissed her, pulling back to study her. She almost whimpered with the loss of contact. He couldn't stop now, not when she still burned.

"Look at me," he demanded. She did, and there was something to his stare she couldn't interpret, as if he wanted something. "I want to see you when I do this. Am I the only man that's touched you?"

Coral answered with a glare, and he gave a devastating smile, all dimples and teeth, knowing he was the only one.

One hand slipped down the front of her shirt, the other pushed her harder against the wall, hand lightly on her throat. His fingers trailed softly around the edge of her underwear in front, torturously slow, cataloging every little whimper with a dark stare.

She wrapped her legs tighter on him and attempted to maneuver her hips to his hands, but he shoved her back.

"No, princess," he said. "If you want this, it'll be on my terms. Otherwise, I'll stop."

"You wouldn't dare."

But his grin told her he would.

So she let him explore, touching, teasing. At one point, his hand slipped under her shirt, pushing up her bra, tracing around her breasts, until she nearly begged. And then he cupped her breast, looking out of breath himself at the contact, rolling her nipple in his fingers in way that made her arch and cry.

"Please, Vick," she finally begged.

As if that was what he was waiting for, his hand trailed down again, right where she desired, under her underwear right on her clit. She shuddered with the contact.

He rubbed his finger back and forth along her swollen slit, each pass building something deep in her body.

"Say my name again," he demanded.

She complied.

"Vick." It came out breathy, soft, desperate.

He groaned into her shoulder, and then slipped a finger inside her and then another. He glanced down a moment, looking at his fingers buried inside her.

"Fuck, you're as perfect as I thought you'd be."

She'd played with herself before, but masturbation was nothing to his thick fingers pushed up inside her, curling against a spot that caused her to gasp.

"Look at me," he demanded again. She did, keeping his stare, as he pushed in and out of her, his thumb brushing along her clit. "Is this what you wanted, Princess? Me inside you?"

She couldn't even say yes. It was choked on a groan. The burning built, until she frantically pushed against his fingers. Vick looked at her as if it was the best thing he'd ever seen.

"Cum for me, beautiful."

The burning burst after several minutes. He held her jaw, so that she was forced to look into his grey eyes as the orgasm washed over her.

They panted against each other when it subsided. Then he softly trailed his lips up her neck to her throat and finally recaptured her lips, this time gentle, free hand now tangled up in her curls.

He stayed that way, his hand still buried inside her. Until, finally, he withdrew his fingers, pulled her underwear back into place, and walked her over to the bed, laying her down.

Then he pulled back on his elbows and stared at her. She might be wrong, but she thought he looked guilty, maybe mad at himself. But Coral was too satisfied to care. It had been the best orgasm of her life. One of her only ones, really.

"You're going to kill me," he whispered.

She reached up a hand trailing along his jaw and mouth.

"I've already told you that."

He closed his eyes briefly and stood up, walking toward the door. Before he walked out, he turned back with another wicked smirk, dimples deepening.

"Next time it won't be my fingers." He lifted the fingers that had been inside her and gave them a slow lick, as if savoring the taste. "You need to be careful, princess. If you keep acting up like this, I might keep you in that bed forever." He stopped as if remembering something important. "And thanks for this." He held up a little disk that had been in a hidden pocket in her underwear. "Next time don't hide things where I can so easily find them. I'm looking forward to the next search."

The loose feeling vanished, replaced with a low rage that he'd one-upped her.

She threw the glass on her bedside table, but he closed the door in time, and it smashed against the wood. He gave a mocking laugh, locking the door.

And then she smirked, remembering what toy he held.

"Pepper activate," she screamed.

He yelled out in agony two second later.

"That hurt, you bitch!" He thumped the locked door with his fist, before storming away, boots heavy on the ground.

She snuggled into her pillow, imagining what it looked like when Vick was squirted with pepper spray right in his pretty grey eyes.

Everything Lux created was perfectly designed for dicks like Vick. That made a nice rhyme, she thought before dreaming, Vick the Dick.