A/N: Thanks for all the likes and follows. Prepare your eyes for round two! Like most of my stories, this part has gone in a smuttier direction (and part 3 will likely be worse again).

GR interrogation, Session 2. September 30, 2014

Skye reached the corridor and paused, gathering to face him. After their last encounter, she feared she face a wall again. A.C. said he understood but she doubted he really meant it - perhaps she'd get Fitz down here, then he'd talk. Unprepared, but unable to stall any longer, Skye took a deep breath, exhaling sharply into the empty space, and opened the door - to find him already seated.

Chained as before, he appeared relaxed, but on the concrete floor, encircling the legs of his chair, was a stong silver bar. Fitzsimmons called it a lighting hoop - one move away from that chair, and he was dead.

She merely raised an eyebrow and, for a moment, he looked shamefaced.

'New security measure,' he muttered, 'the guards and I got into a little skirmish.' Chains rattled as he leaned forward, 'So, have you thought about what I said?'

How could she have thought of anything else? He wasn't the first to try and goad her into pleading for answers. None existed, she knew that better than anyone, she'd exhausted every single lead, and then some. It was just another indicator of his trained cruelty to taunt her with it.

'We both know you've got nothing, so save it -'

He laughed, hard eyes fixing on her face, as if trying to steal through to her heart.

Ignoring the twinge at her nape, she moved towards him, eyes alert, 'So you have got something for me? So spill it.'

He smirked. 'Sure? You may not like it.'

She scoffed, 'Please, like you know anything about me anymore -'

Face set, his gaze sharpened.

Hands going to the table, he leaned forwards, 'I know enough.' Silently, daring her into something but she hadn't a clue what.

She yawned and looked around the room.

Opened his mouth wide, he made out three words in a language she didn't understand.

At their command, something inside her moved aside, as heavy as a tomb, and let the inside spill out into the open. Violent energy surged through Skye, from had to toe, gushing from her centre out. Her hands, her skin, glowed with a strange violet light.

The force of it knocked her back to the wall.

'What?! Ward! Whatever you're doing-'

But all she heard was the pop of the cameras going dark.

'No more secrets,' he said, repeating the words again, so they found a place in even the darkest corner. Tendrils of the same eerie light on her skin wove into the room. Like nothing she'd ever felt before, the energy inside and out twisted and catapulted around her, but it had just one focal point: Ward.

Everything inside her dragged towards him, like the tide going out, unstoppable as gravity. And he knew it. Eyes alight with triumph in the shadowed room. Skye gasped as another surge thundered across her skin, and her inner muscled clenched down on nothing. Hard.

'It's all right, come here. It's OK, come to me.' he crooned, voice low.

She tried - oh how she tried - but she couldn't contain it, couldn't hold it in, it crashed over her with the force of the tsunami on a reef. So, like a drug addict offered a free fix, she went, straddling, and fixed her mouth to his. He kissed her back, just as fiercely, until they were both were gasping for air.

Hands going to her hips, sharp white teeth nipping lightly at her throat, he breathed, 'That's it. I'm yours, Skye. I always have been…Come on, ask me...'

Skye's reply was a desperate gulp of air before her mouth found his once more.

Scrabbling about for control, she grabbed his hair, bringing his eyes to hers, 'Tell me,' she said, in a voice that was not her own.

The walls around them shook, air swirling around and around and around in a tornado that enclosed them at its centre.

A part of Skye was horrified, bellowing to get up, get back, get away. But as he whispered every piece of intel he'd ever seen or been told, she couldn't stem the deluge. Had to focus on using everything she had left not to buckle under the weight of it. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, there was only him and this compulsive need to have his all, to hear it all.

She felt drunk, on sensation, on the unknown - her senses heightened to fever pitch and she felt alive for the first time, inside and out. And the more depraved the act he mentioned, the more wicked a thing he confessed, an electrifying jolt hit Skye that was the right side of pain. Like an adrenalin shot to her entire body - she couldn't describe it - but her muscles clenched and released in time with every harsh word and it felt better than the best sex she'd ever had.

He went on, the words tumbling out in a dizzying rush for benediction, for her. As he whispered his darkest acts into her ear, laid bare every secret, pausing only to kiss or nibble on her throat, the incandescent light of her shone brighter. Afraid, Skye clutched at him, but as he whispered something truly awful in her ear, something else took over and she began to move on him in a way that pleased them both, until they were so in sync it was impossible to see where he ended and she began.

Skin glowing, high on new-found power, she stared deeply into his eyes and smiled, fingers stroking at his sweating cheek. Soothing away the panicked desperation she saw growing there. Thrusting, her starved body moved with unrelenting speed, until he broke, yelling out, and then moaning into her chest, begging her to stop, but she didn't. His dark eyes blurred, strong throat working furiously to keep up, as she leaned down to whisper in his ear in that same foreign tongue. And the room went haywire; new colours surfacing in the light, releasing purple, black and silver, an ultraviolet hurricane.

Against her skin, he gasped for air, drowning, desperate eyes rolling back in his head, but still the weight of him between her legs grew. Powerless, he thrust mindlessly against her, groaning, trying to buck her off. But their clothes dulled none of the sensation, so she went faster, plumbing him until his essence was in her bones. And as she watched him fading before her eyes, Skye experienced the biggest revelation of her life: she would kill him. If she let this go on; he would die. From afar, high above them, a part of her admired his tireless struggles even as his body lept at hers for more.

More, more, more.

So this is what A.C. meant by being careful with her powers - just until they knew more. On one level, she hated that it was Ward - her biggest failure - who'd shown her the way forward, her true power, but, on another, it didn't surprise her, not really.

To be continued...(2/3)