chapter word count: 1,094

noir heart: one hundred

(warning: sexual content, mild bondage, masturbation. read at your own risk. skip update if desired)

Elsa's wrists strain against the handcuffs, the steel warmed by her searing body heat. Her fingers clench to distract herself from the desire for freedom. Her body rocks back and forth, her knees a fulcrum. She wants to break free, needs it, but not to escape. Fleeing is the last thing she wants to do. Her restraints impede her, frustrate her, as all she wants to do is glide her fingers over his chest. Claw at his shoulder when the next throaty moan cascades from her mouth. Pin him to the bed whilst she swells her lips against his, feeding her desire to have every inch of him against and inside her.

No, she chose it. The handcuffs were her idea, not his. She wants to know what it's like to willingly relinquish control to another. Kozmotis took it from her, but she gives it freely to Jack. Lets herself be at his mercy, unable to do a thing about it. On her knees, held up by his right hand on her shoulder and left hand around the handcuff chain, she relishes the loss of control - because it makes every single thrust all the more explosive.

She fixes her eyes shut, mouth permanently open so indiscernible mewls, breathless calls of his name and filthy curses fill the air every time he slowly - but determinedly - fucks her. The storm of pleasure, its core in her core, spreads through her entire being, threatening to overwhelm her and destabilise her mind. "Jack," she breathes - it's the only word that comes to mind.

He leans down so his chest presses against as much of her back as possible - her fingers, craving tactile reward, feather themselves across his skin and dig her nails in. "Elsa," he groans. His right hand moves from her shoulder and slides across her breasts, massaging and kneading them, her right nipple sliding as easily between his fingers as if it was meant to be there. It only drives her further and further on to her third orgasm of the night. His hand abandons her breast, much to her frustration, but validates its movement when she feels it slide down her sweat-slick skin, past her navel, and press a single finger against her nub. A cry of ecstasy rips the air. Her eyes squeeze shut, and her swollen, pulsing insides clamp around him like a vice. He grunts in response, and his hot breath against her ear only intensifies the pleasure. She strains against the metal - it's not enough. She wants more. More pleasure, more electricity, more mindless sex. More of him.

"Take them off," she orders. Maybe she hasn't relinquished all control - Jack obeys her, sliding the key he previously tossed onto the empty space on the bed into its lock.

She hears the click before she feels freedom kiss her wrists, and she wastes no time. The second her hands hit the bed to stop herself from flopping into the bedsheet, she pushes herself onto her back and pulls him down by his neck to capture his lips, whilst he rectifies the sin of not being inside her for those precious seconds. He slides inside with one long thrust that steals her breath, filling her completely. "Jack," she pants against his reddened, thoroughly-kissed lips. Her hips buck up to match him as he pounds into her, and she clamps her legs around him to feel every inch of him inside her in places she'd never been touched. Her hands release his neck and proceed to claw into his back, while his lips find the reddened, well-kissed point where her neck meets her shoulder. "Fuck me," she moans into his ear, crying out when his teeth nibble at a particularly sweet spot. "Faster!" He obliges, pounding harder and faster into her. "Oh God," she squeals - the storm of golden ecstasy has been building exponentially and threatening to engulf her, and she's about to topple over the edge and fall into its electrifying embrace.

"Elsa," he pants into her ear, "I'm about to…"

"So am I…" she is barely able to whisper, inches from losing her mind, "do it. I want it. Inside me."

She feels him explode inside her, searing heat filling her like lava. Her muscles sing with glee and constrict his length, gripping it for all its worth, wanting to pull it inside. It sends her nerves into a frenzy, the sensation of him spilling himself, and her body is pushed over the edge. Her orgasm rips through her like a tidal wave from her core, sending screams of delight and of his name into the heavens whilst her body jerks and shudders against and away from him, and her mind flies to somewhere in the stratosphere.

He pulls back to look at her with a lidded, vacant gaze - the kind of look where the mind has long since abandoned the eyes. His snow-white hair is slick with sweat - the perfect look for him. He's still inside her - she wants it to stay that way. "Is this what you wanted?" he whispers - and he's sincere. He needs to know her answer. "Is this worth killing for?"

With no trace of deceit, she cups his face and replies, "Yes."

Squealing, her orgasm practically lifts her from the bed, such is the force with which it bucks her hips into the sky. Her left hand scrunches the pillow to cope with the ecstasy tearing through her, and her right hand continues to expertly rub over her swollen, slick clit, seeking to prolong her orgasm. Masturbation was something she engaged in often when she was married, seeking to remind herself that sex for pleasure, not power, existed.

Her hips sink down into the bedsheet as her muscles fail her, the fabric damp with sweat. Exhausted by the ferocity with which she indulged herself, her hands slide across her naked hip and flop down onto the bed, leaving a thin trail of liquid. She forces her eyes open, and there's a flash of disappointment when there's no white-haired detective's face to greet her.

Although, that's something she intends to change - until then, she supposes pleasuring herself in the privacy of her apartment at two in the afternoon, fantasising about him will have to do.

She closes her eyes in contentment, and smiles to herself as her breath returns to her, laid naked in her bed with her unbraided, platinum blonde hair a wild, sprawling mess.

Such hardship.

bumper update today, nearly triple the words. Also, with it being the 100th update, a commemorative treat. Feels like ages since I last wrote smut. Apologies if it's rusty. I ALSO HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO WRITE SEX FROM THE FEMALE PERSPECTIVE (hashtag chemistry dog meme).

special thanks to: colormeaya, anastasia, last future of embryo, oninoko, stefalove, whimsical acumen, jpbake, snowfire12345, isawaliciaarrow, maravillakatana and waguneru for the reviews!