Disclaimer – Don't own the characters, don't want to. Just borrowing them briefly.

:

:

He had her almost at the peak.

Or the edge, or the cusp. Whichever way it was described, he had her.

He had brought her here. And deliberately paused.

The journey was different each time. He didn't want it to become repetitive, routine. A chore that must be performed. So sometimes it was quick and relentless. Other times – most other times – it was slow and deliberate. A sensual savoring. A winding journey with peaks and valleys, the occasional detour. But always with the same destination.

They had reached that destination, again, and Sully had paused.

Deliberately.

It was a fleeting pause, to be sure. He loved bringing her to this moment, to this place, knowing that he, and he alone, had been her guide. He had brought her here, willingly. Yes, very much willingly.

The first few times, however, Michaela had been hesitant, wary. Though naked as the day she was born, it had been as if she still maintained an invisible suit of armor, guarding against anyone who would make her feel weak. Vulnerable. She had learned from a young age that to give in, to yield to another, would not permit her to achieve her goals. And so, she had donned the armor, a protective shield, not letting herself be anything less than strong. Her resistance had enabled her to get where she wanted to go.

Everywhere but here.

With time, persistence, and encouragement, Sully had brought her to this place. The very words he was about to speak had been uttered in those early days as encouragement, as reassurance that she could trust him, let down her guard. They had been spoken to entice her towards that final destination, when she had crested the peak, fallen over the edge, shattered into pieces.

Whichever way it was described, the sound that accompanied it was the same.

It was a special sound. It wasn't a sigh, or a gasp, or a moan. Those were uttered along the journey, to be sure, as he plied her body with sensation after sensation. And to be sure, he delighted in each and every one of those sounds. Yet all of those other sounds could also be generated in other ways. A weary sigh after a long day. A gasp of surprise. A moan of agony when she was injured – which, thankfully, was rare. No, this was a unique sound he sought, a sound that she made only when he – and he alone - elicited it from her.

It was a cry. A cry of raw release, of primal pleasure. A cry that couldn't be replicated anywhere else, by any other means. A cry of ultimate trust. A cry of ecstasy. A cry of surrender.

A cry only for him.

Predictably, given her upbringing, Michaela was initially embarrassed by her cry. She thought she was supposed to lie there, submissive, still and silent. She had tried to choke it back, to keep her release entirely internal. Thus, Sully had turned to the words as another tool in his arsenal, coaxing her natural response.

And here, now, just before that cry, it was time to utter the words. The words that had once encouraged but now commanded. Words that could not be refused. Words that had become unnecessary, really, but words which gave him the undeniable satisfaction that for this one moment he had control over her, the woman who would not be controlled.

He had brought her here. And deliberately paused to savor his triumph.

"Come, Michaela."

Finally, pushed over the precipice, Michaela came, her cry ringing out into the stillness. The sweetest sound he would ever hear her make.

All for him.

All because of him.

The sound did not last. Could not last. Sometimes her cry was followed by his own, sometimes not, depending upon the path he had chosen to bring her here. Either way, in the end, the stillness returned.

Until it was time to bring her here again.

:

THE END