The Trapped Assassin

By SarahsSupplyCloset

Author's Note: I don't know how to say this, you guys, but I really don't think it is difficult to just stop reading a story if it offends you. This story has sex scenes in it, and yes, there are a lot, but it's what I want to write. I like writing it. Yes it was a network TV show and they couldn't actually show Charah in literal sexual situations, but I'm the one writing this, I'm in control here, and this is what I am doing.

The world is crumbling. Let me write Charah in the Riviera having sex in peace, please. (It was only one person in my inbox. 99% of you are sweet and I appreciate it.)

Disclaimer: I don't own CHUCK. I don't make money writing CHUCK fan fiction.

Sarah pressed the button for her own floor instead of for his. She let him see her push it, too. And she smiled up at him over her shoulder.

The whole reason he'd ended up at that bar was to get out of his suite, wasn't it? So they wouldn't go to his suite. They'd go to hers instead. It was different enough from his. It had her stuff in it instead of his, and it was a little smaller, not a corner suite.

Sighing, she leaned back against the wall of the elevator and lazily turned her head to glance at him.

He jauntily leaned his elbow against the wall above her head and grinned at her, bracing his other hand against the wall on the other side of her, essentially trapping her. Not that she felt all that trapped. She welcomed it if anything.

But then the grin fell away a bit and left him looking more contemplative than anything, sincere and contemplative.

"Hey, you know, I'm…I'm happy to be what you need right now, more than happy even. To take your mind off of your job. Um, I hope you don't mind me saying this, but I still want you to feel okay about venting. If you ever need that."

Sarah took a deep breath and stepped in closer to him, wrapping an arm around his torso and burying her face in his neck. She squeezed tight and he wrapped her up in his embrace, hugging her back. "Thank you," she breathed.

"Sure. I'm here for you."

She pulled back and looked up at him. "You are. And I appreciate that. But I want you to feel comfortable talking to me, venting to me, too."

"Oh, I do." He gave her a warm smile. He looked like he might want to continue, but then he didn't and she gave him a wan look. "What?"

"You have something you need to vent about." He shook his head but it wasn't convincing at all. "Chuck…"

"It's fine. Just typical…stuff. Not a big deal."

"Chuck. Come on. You just said you know you can vent to me."

"I do." He shrugged.

"So vent."

Before he could, the elevator doors dinged and swept open. He sighed and stepped back, out of her arms, and gestured for her to go first, bracing his hand against the door to make sure it didn't close on them. She kept her eyes on him even as she exited the elevator, wanting him to keep going, wanting him to vent to her, almost needing him to.

She didn't quite understand the sensation, this need to be someone he felt safe with, someone he could talk to, tell anything to. And she felt a little bit hypocritical that she couldn't do the same thing with him. She wanted him to spill his guts for her and she would never be able to do that for him.

He took her hand and they walked slowly, strolling down the hallway towards her suite.

"I've got a bit of a competitor," he finally said. "SOLO Games has had to sort of bend its knee in a lot of ways because there's so much competition out there in the industry. But there's one guy who's got a vendetta against me, it feels like. It's been going on for a few years now. I thought the first time they came out with a game similar to my Helix Zone RPG that it was just a fluke, you know? And then they had a game that was similar to Time Stealers. And then, and then, and then…" He huffed, shaking his head. "No matter who points it out—and I'm careful not to be the one 'cause I might sound like sour grapes, but there are gamers out there sticking up for SOLO. Doesn't matter though because they never get docked for it by the people who count. The gaming population. They make big bucks on their stuff. That's why I had to get outta my room for a bit. I've got all my employees blowing up my phone in a mass text about Harpoon coming out with a game that's a lot like Wallace and how everyone keeps texting them asking them how pissed they are about it. And what am I going to do about it? This is my baby, you know? And they all expect me to do something about it this time. It feels personal, you know? What a mess. I don't need this shit while I'm on vacation."

Sarah shook her head and stopped at her door, unlocking it and pushing it open. She held it for him and then let it slam shut behind them when he followed her inside. "How are these Harpoon people getting away with this every time? Do people not see it?"

"It's a bureaucracy thing," he said, making an annoyed face. "Harpoon's been around for at least a decade and a half now, and we're the new guys. People see it, articles have been written about it, there are people going live on Twitch about it, Youtube videos about it. I mean, Wallace is nominated for a Joystick now. Which is cool."

"Maybe that's the thing you need to focus on. You and your employees." She shrugged and stepped in close to him. "You've been nominated for a prestigious video game award. That's a big deal. These Harpoon assholes? What've they done?"

"They've won six Joystick awards."

"Oh." She winced.

Chuck laughed. "It's a cutthroat industry, which is super surprising, I know. A bunch of geeks who sit and stare at big screens holding controllers in their hand just doesn't seem like something that lends itself to cutthroat-ism, but…" He made a phew sound. "I've had to harden the crap out of my backbone, Sarah. It kind of sucks."

"I don't know, it might be good that you're learning to harden your backbone. Stick up for yourself and your work."

He nodded. "Yeah I know. I just hate conflict. I just wanted to make video games and give people who love video games jobs making video games with me. I'm not here to Battle Royale a bunch of petty competitors. You guys make your games, I make my games. Never the twain shall meet, or whatever. But that was naive. I'm pretty bothered by this latest hit, though."

"I don't blame you," she said, rubbing his arm. "What a shitty company. Harpo Bullshit Games."

He cracked up. "Harpo?"

"Whatever they're called."

"Harpoon, but I'm definitely calling them Harpo from now on. When I turn my phone back on, I'm texting that to all my employees."

Sarah giggled. "You're welcome." She sighed then, seeing the quietness behind his smile, and she stepped in to hug him, comfort him. "I'm sorry some asshole has released a game that's copied yours. Especially Wallace, considering how personal that game has been for you. What with your old college classmate passing away and it being his legacy." She pulled back and stroked her hand down his jaw. "There's nothing you can do about it?"

"Probably not. Just hope enough outrage happens in the mass public. Maybe some Twitch influencers or podcasters can get pissed enough and cause an uproar and they'll be forced to pull it for potential copyright, but eh. Won't happen. There's just enough that's different about it. Like I said, it'll just sound like sour grapes if I act on it. And I've begged my employees to just keep their outrage amongst ourselves. No talking to reporters."

"Do you always take the high road like this?" she asked, tilting her head.

"I have no choice, really." He shrugged. "It's me against a juggernaut."

She watched him closely for a few moments. "Well, you win that award and you're well on your way to becoming a juggernaut yourself."

That made a grin grow on his face. "I like the way you said that."

"Maybe I have a way with words sometimes." She shrugged, feeling good about the look he was giving her, as if he was actually given confidence by her words. "But I also think that's exactly what's going to happen, Chuck. You're brilliant. That game of yours is brilliant. I know firsthand because I played it. I don't play video games, and if I had that much fun playing it, Chuck…?"

He was beaming now. "I'm glad you like it." Then he gave her a thoughtful look, his smile a lot warmer, a dreamy softness to his brown eyes. "I'm really, really glad you like it. In particular."

"Because I'm not a video gamer?" she asked, smiling back at him.

"Because you're you. And I care about your opinion on…virtually everything. But especially on something I've created and worked so hard to get it where it is. Your opinion means a lot."

Nobody had ever said anything like that before. Nobody had ever cared about what she thought about anything that wasn't directly related to a mission. And even then, if she were honest with herself. Sometimes Graham would let her in on the planning for missions, but it was rare. Most of the time, he gave her marching orders and if she ever had to stray from the path, she was on her own improvising her way to success.

And here this guy was telling her with an almost unbelievable amount of sincerity that he cared about her opinion, especially on something that meant so much to him, something he'd worked on for years.

"You…really care that much about what I think?" she asked quietly.

"Yep."

He said it so easily.

Harpoon. Harpoon was on her shit list. And she put that in the back of her mind, for later, perhaps. She'd be looking into it at the very least. She still had some connections, even if she was leaving the CIA.

She'd do this for him, no matter what happened between them, no matter what happened when this vacation was over. He cared about her, he made her feel real, human, and worth something. He made her feel like she was worth more than just what she could do with a weapon. He didn't see her as just a weapon herself. He saw her as someone whose opinion he valued, whose existence he valued.

There was a good chance she might do literally anything for him at this point.

"Well anyway, it'll be okay. They aren't nominating both games for Joystick awards, nominees are already out, and Wallace-16 is it. So that's good. I have my phone off now. Ellie knows it's off since I texted her about it before I turned it off. And…shit, I'm just realizing now that I didn't tell you first and you could've been texting me all day. Were you?"

"Oh. No." She shook her head, as if she hadn't just been freaking out that he'd left the continent simply because he wasn't in his suite. "Don't worry. But…" She licked her lips. "There is something…speaking of phones."

She pulled her new phone out. "I had to get a new one today. New number and everything."

"Oh. Oh! Wow. What happened? Was it not working? I'm a tech wiz. You could've asked me and I would've probably been able to fix it for you. Save you some money and trouble."

"Oh, no, that's okay. It wasn't that it wasn't working. I mean, it was more like…busted. I took it out of the case to clean it and dropped it. It landed in the perfect way and broke the thing in pieces. Just obliterated it. I had to go immediately to buy a new one. And of course, that means I lost your number, Ellie's number, too…" She shrugged. "I probably lost a lot of numbers," she said with a wince. "But I'll figure that out after my vacation is over."

Chuck opened his mouth as if to say something, then clicked it shut again.

"What?" she prompted.

"Nothing."

"No, you have a look on your face. You have something to say. Say it."

"Nope. I decided not to."

She narrowed her eyes. "Say it."

He winced. "Did you break the phone before or after that talk with the, uh, the coworker you, um, had a fling with?"

Sarah pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. "I see why you stopped yourself from saying that." She gave him a teasing glare as he winced again. "It was after but I didn't break it on purpose. You think he might've got to me enough that I'd willingly lose the number of a guy who's actually a good guy? Who is…extra cute?" she added flirtatiously, reaching up to play with the curls on top of his head, making him give her a small smile, his eyes softening. "And funny. And smart. And he's nominated for an award for the work he's done?"

Chuck tilted his head, his smile widening oh so slowly. God, it was delicious.

"You looking to entice me to make you forget about that phone call…and, uh, just about everything else? Or what?" he asked.

"Yes, actually. Oh, he's actually a very sweet and nice sorta guy, too. Did I mention that? No way I'd lose his number on purpose." Chuck leaned in then, his hands landing on her hips, and he kissed her neck, just under her jaw. Heat went through her at even that small gesture of intimacy. "And sexy," she breathed without meaning to.

But the words were already out of her mouth, so she decided she might as well just deal with it.

She felt his teeth graze her neck as he grinned, hearing him chuckle.

He stepped back then and slipped his hand into hers, giving her a significant look. And then he gently pulled her towards the doors to the bedroom.

Sarah Walker, ex-CIA assassin, could not help the excited grin that appeared on her striking features. She could feel her body awakening, the way she'd felt sitting that close to him at the bar, only more intense, considering they were really alone now and on their way to the room with the bed in it.

And when they got there, she fell back onto the bed with a giggle, beckoning him closer with her finger.

But when he crawled on top of her, instead of kissing her or going for her clothes like she expected him to, he just laid there, propped over her, his elbow braced on the mattress next to her head. "Wait, this is very one-sided…"

"You sure about that, bucko?" she teased, popping the button of his pants. "I have it on good authority this is extremely two-sided." She bit her lip.

"N-No, not that." She felt him shiver. "God, if this was you not being all that into it, I'd be in serious danger if you were into it…"

"Try me," she flirted, slowly easing the zipper down.

Chuck's eyelids fluttered. "No, I mean, I got to vent to you about my dumb work. You still haven't—oh, oh okay. Oooohkay." She'd pushed her hand inside of his pants and was stroking him over his boxers. His body went tight over hers. "You can vent about your work…your job…to me."

Her hand stilled, and some of the mischief that had been coursing through her dimmed a little.

Sarah took a deep breath and pulled her hand out of his pants. And then she sighed. She'd pulled this man into a shower with her. She'd let herself be vulnerable with him. She'd slept beside him on numerous occasions now. And she'd willingly given him control in sexual situations in a way that would've been unthinkable to her not even a month ago.

So that when she opened her mouth, words that were unthinkable to her a month ago came out of her mouth.

"I'm not the same person there…that I am here." Something tightened in her chest. She felt uncomfortable suddenly, like she'd been cut open, her ribs pulled apart. She crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself. Trying to put her ribs back together, close herself up again. "I-I mean…when I'm on the job. When I'm working. You wouldn't believe I was even the same person."

He looked a little confused. "Well, we're all different at work than we are when we're on vacation," he reasoned, thrusting his hand out, gesturing to the room around them.

"No, I'm really…I'm really different. And I've come to rely on it so much that…I mean, my work, you know…" He nodded, listening carefully. "If anything were to ever happen where I didn't have it anymore, I'm not so sure if I could…make it. And I guess that phonecall today really put that into perspective for me in a big way."

"I see." He nodded, and then he licked his lips. She could see him trying to figure it out. "You mean, the guy who called you today…the, uh, the guy…"

"Br—Bruce."

"Bruce? You slept with a Bruce? Sarah…"

In spite of her state of utter vulnerability and rawness, she giggled, shaking her head. "Stop it." She felt worse, having lied about even the smallest thing. What would've even happened if Chuck knew Bryce's name? He wouldn't know him. There were millions of Bryces out there. But she'd lied anyway.

"What'd he say to make you feel so bad?"

"He wanted me for a job," she said, a nervous thrill going through her. She was telling him the honest to God truth, even if he thought she was talking about her job as a translator rather than as a CIA assassin.

"You're on vacation."

She saw the way his eyes froze a bit, felt him squirm against her. He was nervous, worried…worried she was leaving earlier than he'd expected, maybe? That this was over? Her heart was flooded with warmth as she reached up and tugged at his shirt. "I didn't accept it. I won't accept it. I won't work with him again. Never again."

Chuck sagged a bit, the relief in his face, and he cleared his throat. "Oh. Wow, he must've really burned that bridge with you. Was he that bad?"

"What, at sex?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He choked a little. "No! I don't wanna know about…that…" She smirked. He frowned. "Stop the smirking. I meant…as a person."

"Not even close to as good as you. And I'm answering both questions, even the one you didn't mean to ask." She loved the way that made him squirm, even as she knew it pleased him to hear it. He was human just like anybody—but better, of course. And yet…

Still human.

"Well, thank you. But we aren't talking about me. We're talking about…Bruce. That bothered you this much? Him offering you a job?"

"No, he just…he kept going when I made it clear the conversation was over and I ended up…I don't know." She huffed, turning her face into his bicep and nuzzling him. He slipped his free hand over her hip and squeezed. It reassured her, that small gesture. "He said things that made me…Well, let's just say it hit close to home."

"What'd he say?" Chuck asked after a few seconds of silence. Sarah blinked at the ceiling, and she took long enough to answer that he rushed out, "You don't have to tell me. I get it, if it's private."

She shook her head, sending him a small smile, but it died just as quick as she remembered. "My work is my existence. Which is why he was shocked I wouldn't take the job, that I didn't want it. Even when he offered to wait for my vacation to end, I didn't take it. And it wasn't even really about him as much as it was about me. And the job. My work I mean." Chuck nodded, and she didn't know why she kept going but she did. "It isn't about him. He's a non-factor. He has no hold on me. It isn't, like, some thing where he got under my skin and, it-it isn't that," she insisted. "He really threw me under the bus this one time when we were working together. Nearly cost me my…" Life, she'd nearly said. She'd really almost said it out loud. But she caught herself. "My job," she lied. Although technically, was it a lie? If she were dead, she wouldn't have a job. She inwardly rolled her eyes at herself for that thought.

"Oh. Shit. Seriously?" he asked, frowning. "What, did he screw up and blame it on you?"

"Not that, really. It was more that things didn't really go well…I mean, we didn't really do a great job, and he just sort of disappeared and let me take the heat." Again, that wasn't fully a lie. "He was nowhere to be found when I got into trouble. And he escaped with a gold star, basically." She shook her head. "I'm not risking putting myself through that again, but there's also just…I don't know how to describe it."

She squirmed in discomfort and felt Chuck's hand on her hip, warm and comforting, reassuring. Her eyes slipped shut. She turned her face against his arm and took a deep breath, nuzzling him again. It just felt good. It felt safe.

"I guess I'm just sort of disillusioned with the job. And it's crazy, hearing myself say it out loud." She scoffed, keeping her eyes shut, just allowing herself to feel him as she spoke. "He is right about one thing. I don't know what I'd do, what my life would even be like, without this work. I'm not sure who I'd be without it. I don't know if I even…could do it."

"Fuck him."

Her eyes snapped open. She turned her head to gape up at him and blinked once.

Chuck seemed unsure, as if he didn't know if he'd maybe crossed a line, or maybe he wondered if he was speaking on something he shouldn't be speaking on, something that he didn't understand, something that wasn't his business. But he kept going anyway.

"Sarah, you're exactly who you are right here, right now, in this moment. I-I know you think… What I mean is, I heard what you just said. About how you're a different person when you're working, but what if you aren't? What if the Sarah who's in that room translating like a crazy brilliant bad ass is the same Sarah as the one in this bed right now with me? People do that all the time. I'm different at work than I am at home on the couch with my sister. When Ellie's at work, she's basically operating on people's brains, you know? What you see of her here? In Nice? Completely different. But that doesn't mean she's two different Ellies." He made a quiet, frustrated sound that was so cute she almost felt like she was melting into the bed underneath him. "I guess what I mean is… Sarah, that guy, your ex, or whatever he was—sorry, I guess I don't really understand the nature of what it was and it doesn't really matter anyways—He, um, he's full of shit. Because you don't have your work right now. I mean, you're on vacation. And I think you're so fantastic. I don't think you need him, or his job, or-or anything or anyone. You're gonna be fine. I don't know you very well after two weeks and I still know that you're gonna be fine."

Sarah bit her bottom lip, smiling up at him softly.

And she felt that sensation going through her again. The one she'd never felt before, but she knew what it was. She was too afraid to name it, even in her own head. But she knew it.

She took his hand and slipped it under her top, under her bra even, and squeezed her hand over his, enveloping her breast with his palm. "I do need one thing," she said, her voice quiet and tight.

Something sparked in his brown eyes. "Is that something I can help with?"

"Yes, please."

His hand shifted and his thumb pressed down on her nipple, making her shiver.

With both hands, she pushed on the waistband of his pants, then went for his boxers too before he was even able to kick the pants off properly.

This wasn't as graceful or skilled as they'd sometimes been before this moment, as desperate as they both were now. And she found herself giggling at his eagerness, at her own eagerness, and how the excitement was somehow making the barriers between them harder to remove as they fingers fumbled and clawed, both of them rolling over every which way on the bed.

By the time they finally managed to get all of their clothes off, Sarah was pinned beneath him, more than ready.

But she was ready for the feeling of having him enter her, fill her up. Instead, the heat of his body left her cold, only for her to feel his mouth envelop her sex. He pressed against the backs of her thighs so that she pulled her knees up by her shoulders, and he began to eat her out, his grip on her hips so tight."Chuck…"

She tried to control her breathing, but she couldn't do it. It felt so good. All she could do was turn her face into her pillow and enjoy, breathing be damned.

God, he was so good at his.

And he didn't stop for a while, staying between her legs for long enough that she lost track of time, of where she was, and maybe for a split second who she was. And when she began to go numb in her legs, she let go of them and let the backs of her knees rest on his shoulders.

She watched the amusement on his face as she gave his head a teasing squeeze between her thighs, but then he doubled down, the lazy softness of his ministrations becoming more intent, faster. And she felt his tongue enter her.

It wasn't until she was on the very edge, the buzzing in her body rising to a crescendo, that his mouth left her and he climbed back over her, blanketing her lithe form with his own.

Sarah didn't mean to beg for him. It just slipped out when he began kissing her neck, jaw, collarbone…when all she wanted to feel was him inside of her.

His name came out between her lips in a whimper, followed by a pitiful, "please". She repeated it then, over and over, and she felt his teeth graze over her neck like he was grinning.

"You think you're so funny," she gasped out, biting her lip to try to stem the desire raging through her from showing on her face. "Making me wait."

Chuck pushed himself up onto his elbows so that he was hovering over her, and God help her, but she could feel his hardness pressed right up against her sex. It wasn't nearly enough. She needed more. Immediately. But he was playing a game. She recognized the crooked smile on his face.

"Waiting makes the pay-off that much better," he teased, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

"That's great, but I want the pay-off now."

Chuck whistled low and chuckled, and Sarah wrapped her arms around his shoulders, tucking her face in his neck.

"Chuck, I want you," she whispered. "Now. Please."

She was filled with something different from the usual brand of desire she'd grown accustomed to with specifically Chuck. It felt new this time. The way he'd just spoken to her, reassured her. What he'd said.

She did have two sides. She had the woman who could stay crouched in a window across a big city skyline, staring through a scope, waiting for the perfect time to take the shot, watch another human life snuffed out by her own handy work. And she had the woman who smiled and felt warmth course through her when she said something clever enough to make this man laugh. They were two sides, very different, with completely opposite outlooks on life, opposite intentions.

But what if what Chuck said was true?

What if it was all her?

What if she couldn't get away from the assassin part of her? What if it stayed in her forever? What if escape from this life was never fully possible?

"You're gonna be fine," he'd said before, with so much sincerity. And he was right that he really didn't know her at all, but he still seemed to know at least that much.

She had to believe what he said was true. That she would be fine. That she could do this. She could live this life without the CIA, without missions and orders, without spilling more blood on her hands. But she had a rush of emotions spilling through her and all she wanted at that exact moment was to feel Chuck Bartowski. All of him. And she wanted him to feel all of her.

"Please," she begged again, a whimper against his jaw.

He didn't keep teasing her, almost as if he could hear or feel her genuine desperation, the seriousness in her begging.

Instead, Chuck shifted and she felt him enter her. Finally.

Sarah clung to him, thrusting her hips up and wrapping her leg around his lower back to pull him deep inside of her. She felt him shiver above her, and then his arms slid around her torso and he held on tight as he began to rock his hips down into hers.

As she whimpered into his hair at how incredible it felt, the relief she felt at the sensations coursing through her body again, for this moment, Sarah Walker's world began and ended in Chuck Bartowski's arms.

She was everything all at once. The woman who stepped in to save a man from getting attacked by a French surfer when he got too close to the jerk's surfboard, the woman who brought said man to an impromptu little dance on a dock late at night, the woman who spent an entire morning having mind blowing sex with a guy she'd been on a fantastic date with the night before, the woman who finally felt secure and comfortable enough to let him step into the shower with her the other day after two weeks of practically being attached at the hip… But also the woman who had spent the first part of her life on one side of the law, and the rest of it on the other side of the law, the woman whose hands were stained red by the blood of those she'd killed, the woman who wasn't sure how many of them were guilty versus innocent, the woman who was trained in over 200 ways to kill someone.

"God, you feel so good," he breathed in her ear. And he groaned as she started to lift her hips to meet his thrusts.

Sarah Walker was battling for control inside of her, trying to wrest it away from the Wildcard Enforcer, the Ice Queen. This man making love to her only knew Sarah Walker. That was all he'd ever know. It was all he could know.

And yet, the Wildcard Enforcer was tilting the scales in her own favor.

Like something inside of her snapped, like a rubber band, the Ice Queen took over, and she rolled to the side, pinning Chuck on his back.

He grunted in surprise, his eyes wide, and she grabbed his wrists, pinning them up by his head. Bracing her knees on either side of his hips, she dropped all of her weight into his lap and began to jerk herself on his cock.

"Hnng!" She let her head fall back, blinking at the ceiling as she kept going, harder, harder, even harder, before she let her head fall forward again, hunching over, and just putting every bit of strength she had into his pleasure.

Chuck groaned, throwing his head back against the pillow, arching himself up against her, straining against her restraints on his wrists. He cursed and craned his neck to look down their bodies, his brow furrowed in ecstasy.

"Sarah…Oh God, Sarah…"

Sarah.

She was Sarah now. Sarah Walker.

And yet, the wildness, the hint of violence in her, was alive and well, holding this man down against the bed and bucking in his lap, striving for his finish.

She was every part of her existence all at once.

And what if that was okay?

What if it was just something she'd have to be okay with?

"S-Sarah…Ah! W-Whoa, wait…wait…Sarah, baby…"

Her grip loosened on his wrists as she suddenly realized her face was wet, that she was crying.

Chuck sat up immediately, breathless, and he wrapped her up in his arms, cradling her tight. "Sarah…" he breathed, taking deep, deep breaths and huffing them out against her hair as he held her. "Hey… What happened? We can stop… It's okay…"

But before he could lift her off of him, pull himself out, like he was preparing to do slipping his hand under her leg, she squeezed his hips between her thighs and tightened her arms around his shoulders.

"No, no…stay," she gasped out, sniffling, blinking at the tears. "Please. I don't want to stop."

She felt him nod, his lips on her temple.

"What's wrong? What happened? Did I do something? Did I hurt you?"

"God, no," she panted, pulling back, cupping his face. "I'm just…a mess today. I'm a mess. I have so much to figure out. And I guess being with you, what you said, just…a dam broke inside me."

He slipped his hands up her body and cradled her face in his palms, kissing the tears from her cheeks, then kissing her lips so that she could taste the salt there. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, Chuck….you don't get it. I think I've needed someone to say that to me for a long time." She sniffled and let out a self-deprecating, wet laugh. "I'm such a wreck. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into with me. You have no idea, Chuck."

But she couldn't tell him.

Chuck shook his head. "I know enough." He took a deep breath. "And it's okay, Sarah. Everyone has shit in their lives that's messy."

She shook her head back. "I can't…I can't use my words the way you do," she tried, "but I'm…I don't know who I am…except that I want you. When I know I don't deserve you. I still want you so bad," she gasped out, her heart threatening to beat itself out of her chest.

He grinned. "I want you, too, Sarah. All of you. I want you now, and I want…whoever it is you are whenever you find out for yourself." Chuck kissed her neck as the tears came faster at that. How in the hell did he say things like this, where did he find the words to make her feel okay so easily?

"God, you keep saying exactly the right thing," she sighed, sniffling again, hugging him tightly and burying her face in his curls.

"I'm glad." He pressed his lips against her shoulder. "If you'll let me, I want to show you—"

"Yes," she interrupted, desperate for him.

"—how much I—"

"God, yes. Please, Chuck…"

She began to gyrate in his lap, and he groaned, his hands slipped down to cup her ass. He began to thrust both hard and gentle somehow at the same time, the intimacy of the moment opening a door inside of Sarah, opening it wide.

She didn't want to be apart from him for any reason. Ever.

That was the truth.

She wanted to be with him.

Not just in this way, but in every way.

But she didn't know how.

The only thing she knew how to do was this. So she poured everything into it, every bit of herself, and as one, they began to bounce their hips together, Chuck having to reach back and brace his palm on the mattress, Sarah grabbing onto his shoulders tight.

She cursed through her teeth, reaching…reaching…

And when she came, she cried out but kept riding him through the waves of pleasure. She kept riding him through her second climax, and through her third, before he took her by her hip in one hand and gently placed his palm over her breast, squeezing and tilting her torso back so that she was at an angle, and that was how she spilled over her fourth climax, his cock thumping against her g-spot.

She didn't know how long they spent like that, but he eventually pulled her off of his lap and turned her around, letting her hold onto the headboard as he entered her from behind.

He was draped over her back, holding her face so that he could reach around and kiss her when she felt his body spasm behind hers, his seed filling her. He whimpered into her lips, breathing her name…

And she finally ended up lying on her back, spent for now, with Chuck cuddled up on her chest.

The tears had since dried and she stared at the ceiling, wordlessly wondering what she did with this now. How did she continue?

What would they do?

And she wondered if he was right. She wondered if she could coexist with all of the different versions of herself…if they weren't different versions at all and merely just…a part of her like he said.

She was a mess.

But she was a mess who was thoroughly wanted by a good man she wanted back even harder. And for now, she was going to let herself be okay with that.

I wanted to write more but it felt right to end the chapter there. Thank you for reading and please review please please. Thank you.

SSC