Malcolm kissed Ivana, his hands securing the back of her head as she pressed her hands against the front of his white shirt. His mouth explored hers with curiosity and need. Their tongues rubbed up against each other with a steady promise of things to come. When her mysterious companion finally pulled away she was left breathless. Still straddling his lap, she couldn't help but feel his excitement grazing up against her. Sensations from above and below left her a little high and throbbing with anticipation. Looking into his eyes, she saw an expression that amounted to a challenge. In a split second, she decided Ivana was up to it.

"Mister Bond," she smirked, like the Bond girl she was becoming. Malcolm leaned in and planted open kisses on her neck. He inhaled her scent – Chanel No.5 and pheromones. "You're going to tell me all of your secret plans." Ivana said huskily as she began unbuttoning his shirt.

"If you were planning on torturing me, I should warn you. I've been tortured by the best and I was never broken." he stated in between kisses. "They taught us that in spy school." This was not altogether untrue, actually. Such lessons had taken place in the lair of The Demon, but they never involved buxom blondes in six-inch pumps. Just then, he felt her right hand slide under his shirt as her left index finger traced his straining zipper.

"Hmm. I'll have to alter my strategy."

Ivana stood up and stepped away from Malcolm. She moved very deliberately to a spot on the other side of the marble coffee table and began to sway to the beat of the music. Dancing was something that came naturally to her. She liked to go out with her girlfriends to the clubs and was always complimented by men who approached her. Of course, tonight she wasn't in the company of some panting lothario. Tonight she was seducing a cosmopolitan playboy. Special efforts would have to be made.

Merlyn steadied his jaw, at first. It was quite obvious what she was starting to do and he wasn't sure if she would be able to pull it off. Malcolm knew that his reaction would be important to maintain the James Bond fantasy. Also, he didn't want to hurt her feelings if she ended up having two left feet. A one-night stand didn't afford a person the luxury of missteps in these sensitive areas.

It turned out he had nothing to worry about. Ivana was really good at this. She was at once graceful and provocative. Her hands. Her shoulders. The way she rolled her hips. Malcolm managed to remain stoic when she reached her thumbs under the short hemline of her trench and tugged at her panties. She teased them up and down her thighs until finally dropping them to the floor. Then she turned sideways and bent over to pick them up, all the while to the pulse of the music. Malcolm quietly sipped his scotch and took in the show.

Eventually, she drew close again, planting a foot on either side of his as he sat, a tantalizing gap between her legs. She looked down at him and loosened the fabric belt around her waist. It slid out of its loops and she waved it in the air before dropping it on the table just behind her. Then, keeping her eyes trained on him, she started unbuttoning her coat. Slowly, with one hand. The other fluffed up her golden hair. She towered over him in her heels and he was intrigued by what he could almost see from his low angle every time she bent her knees and swung her hips. His resolve was lost when the tip of her tongue settled in the corner of her mouth.

Ivana was thrilled with how this was going so far. Malcolm was so attractive to her. At some moments, his good looks were boyish and sweet and at other times he smoldered like a dangerous killer. Wow. Right now, the man in front of her with the blue eyes and the sexy mouth was looking at her with authentic lust. She felt really connected to her body and present in the moment and every look he gave her turned her on. Their shared decision to play out a fantasy was so much hotter than she imagined it would be. Every spontaneous thing that occurred with this stranger was exciting to her.

Her final act before shucking off her coat was to reach deep into one of her pockets and produce a handful of condoms, which she tossed behind her on the table. He nodded, slowly.

Dropping her tan coat on the floor, she stood radiantly in front of Malcolm and let him take in all of her curves before lowering herself to sit down on the coffee table just across from him and right next to his glass. Still wearing her high heels, Ivana's knees bent and her legs spread apart. His eyes danced around, seeing exposed flesh everywhere. Ivana leaned back on her elbows.

"One of us is wearing too many clothes," she stated, matter-of-factly.

Malcolm stood and removed his shirt, all the while staring down into her cornflower eyes. For a flashing moment, Donna noticed burn marks on his arms and deep scars on his taut naked torso and nearly broke character, but she stopped herself. Perhaps he wasn't a lawyer, after all. At that moment, the "Ivana" in her didn't care. She sat up and reached to unbutton his pants, then pulled the zipper down. Her hand brushed against the hardness she was revealing.

"Ooh, Mister Bond," she gave Merlyn a lascivious look. His nostrils flared and he exhaled a deep breath. She looked beautiful. Such a different woman from the wide-eyed lady he'd met in the casino that afternoon. Her alter ego definitely brought out the best in her.

Malcolm watched as Ivana took his hands and planted a soft kiss on each of his palms, mimicking his own earlier actions. Then, she took it to a new level, her tongue slowly licking one of his thumbs. She sucked it into her mouth and gave him a passionate preview of what might come later. He suddenly found new purpose for the meditation and self-control exercises he practiced on Nanda Parbat.

Ivana pulled Merlyn down on his knees to face her. She dipped her fingers into his glass of scotch brought them to her lips, making a point to enjoy the flavor. Then, after reaching her fingers in again, she rubbed the alcohol on the dark pink skin surrounding her nipple. The wantonness of the act captivated him. Malcolm's eyes narrowed for a moment and then he slid one hand around her waist and the other moved to explore her breast. A moment later he was devouring her, licking Glenfiddich from her skin, soft and warm. Ivana moaned and congratulated herself internally as his tongue pressed against her. She brushed her cheek against his wavy brown hair.

Eventually, Malcolm found her mouth again and they kissed and nipped at each other's lips until they were swollen and panting. At the same time, one of his hands kneaded her thigh and slowly moved toward her entrance. She was feeling the tightness building there and shifted her seat, wishing for friction. He sensed her urgency and was eager to respond.

"I have a new strategy," she said, taking a deep breath. With that, she leaned back against her elbows again, welcoming his advance. He looked her square in the eye.

"Tell me." He watched her face as he ran his thumb across her hot slit. He liked the way Ivana licked her lips and bit on the bottom one to stifle a scream when he pressed in to discover just how wet she was.

"First, I'm going to massage every inch of you with my tongue," she gasped, then paused, dramatically. "Some inches more than others."

"I like your strategy so far." Malcolm lifted one of Ivana's knees onto his shoulder. Her head lolled back and she gasped up at the ceiling.

"Then, I'm going to make you come really hard and you are going to be so exhausted afterward you are going to tell me everything about your secret plan." At the same time, Malcolm lifted the other knee to the opposite shoulder so that her core was only a few inches from his nose.

"What if I have multiple plans, Miss Goodleigh?" his hot breath puffed against her intimate flesh.

"I'll just keep pumping you…for information, Mister Bond."

"Right." Malcolm then invaded her desperate, creamy center with his evil tongue, causing Ivana to scream and buck her hips.

XX

Malcolm thought he had the upper hand. She had obviously enjoyed the ministrations of his mouth and wore a dreamy, satisfied expression as he took a moment to collect himself. Then, rather unexpectedly, she recovered. She made quick work of peeling off his briefs. The next thing he knew, he was seated back on the couch and this woman was worshiping his body. Thoroughly. Hands. . Her soft cheeks. That golden hair. Everything she had was used to stimulate him. She wasn't kidding about that massage thing she mentioned earlier either. His cock hadn't felt that kind of adulation in a long time and he allowed himself to enjoy it. When the frenzy of heat building within threatened to overwhelm him, Malcolm pulled Ivana away and looked deeply into her disappointed eyes.

"No?" she squeaked.

"Not yet. Come on."

Malcolm raised himself up and pulled Ivana with him. She grabbed a couple of condoms as he tugged her toward the bedroom.

Ivana admired the gorgeous room, decorated black and white with rich tones of red and gold in the finishes. The California king bed, half covered in opulent pillows, looked like something fit for a French prince. They had princes, right? She didn't much care because tall, dark and handsome was about to – reach beneath the dust ruffle and pull out the biggest black canvas duffle bag she had ever seen. She watched as he threw it on the bed.

"You didn't stop a good blow job to show me your nine iron, did you?"

Malcolm pulled her into his arms, his erection pressed hard up against her, and kissed her again. She craved as many kisses from him as she could get now. Soft ones. Brutal ones. She didn't care. Her hands roamed to squeeze his muscular ass. When his mouth finally released hers, she watched his intense expression turn to one of bemusement.

"Actually, it was a superior blow job, Miss Goodleigh." Malcolm had to laugh out loud when she curtsied in response. Then he unzipped the bag, which clattered inside. He pulled it open so she could examine the contents.

Ivana peered inside. Swords. Big knives. Little knives. Those funny star-shaped throwing things she and Felicity had seen on late night marathons of Kung Fu. In what took about five seconds, Donna Smoak realized that there was much more to this man than she had previously thought. Regular guys carried fucking golf clubs. This man with the adorable dimple in his chin could actually kill a person. Could she still consider this a fantasy if it was actually true? The air became charged with a danger she hadn't felt before.

Her eyes pivoted back and forth, from the black bag of potential torture implements to Malcolm's intense blue eyes. If she knew how to do anything, it was read a man – wait a second, she was terrible at reading men. Loser magnet, remember? But at this moment, she knew she was right. He wasn't going to hurt her. He was just trying to share something. She took one last long look at the bag, tilting her head like she was familiar with such implements of death.

Malcolm waited for her next reaction. He wasn't expecting her to pick up the bag and put it down on the floor.

"A nice collection, Mister Bond." She moved around the bed, slowly, seductively, removing pillows and tossing them on the floor. Then she approached him, condom packet in hand. She tore it open and proceeded to install it on his member, never once losing eye contact.

"Knives are kind of old school aren't they?" she teased. When she finished, she climbed up on the bed and crawled on her hands and knees toward the upholstered headboard (these good hotels thought of everything!). Meanwhile, he watched her, hypnotized by her beautiful round rump as it moved away from him. "Boys and their toys," she muttered. Then she beckoned him to join her. In no time, he was positioned behind her, also kneeling, hands on her backside. He bit into one of her cheeks, sending heat through her entire body. His right hand reached around to grab a pendulous breast. He rubbed his throbbing member against her, adding lubrication and exciting her further.

Finally, when Ivana couldn't take his teasing any more, she reached behind to position him where she needed him most. "There's one thing I'll never understand, Mister Bond."

"What's that?" he panted.

"Who needs a sword when you've got a cannon?" With that she impaled herself with a scream. Malcolm was no longer in control of his faculties. He started slamming into her with everything his libido had held in check for the last few years, it seemed. God, she felt so good. So hot beneath him. Around him. Every stroke felt like he was screwing her with a lightning bolt.

Malcolm liked her screaming, but her moaning was even better. Once in a while he would pull out and massage her clit softly with his fingers and she would make this primal sound. If she wasn't facing the other way, she would have seen him smile a little. Then he would plunge back in again.

Funny, he thought, how this woman hardly knew him, but he felt so in tune with her at the moment. Perhaps he needed ecstasy in his life more than he remembered. It made him feel alive and connected to something bigger. This was important. After all, how could he do great things if he wasn't connected to the world on all levels?

Merlyn was all in now. He found himself thinking about where he was going to fuck her next, even while he was still inside her. Shower. Dining table. Up against the window facing that fake Eiffel Tower. Oh yeah, that would be perfect. Her ass flattened against the glass, her legs wrapped around him and his cock buried deep. He might even sing "La Marseillaise" while he came. It was going to be a long night.

XX

Later, Merlyn's entire form was huddled beneath the sheets while Ivana continued to make the sexiest noises he had ever heard. The room was a mess. Pillows strewn. Blankets twisted. Ivana's black pumps littered the floor.

"Oh my God!" she whimpered. "

"Do you really want it?" he asked, his voice muffled under the linen.

"Please! Please! Right there! Aaah." A moment later, Malcolm rose from the sheets, revealing the foot he was holding in both hands.

"Ivana, darling, I have found your weakness. Who knew a Bond Girl could be reduced to begging during a foot rub?" He grinned at her, that dazzling smile that made her catch her breath. Donna, still breathless, shook her head and gestured to the floor.

"If you had to wear "fuck me" shoes for fourteen hours, you would appreciate how good a foot rub could feel…Mister Bond. Guy spies have it easy." Malcolm planted a trailing kiss on her arch that made her giggle.

XX

Ivana was curled up in Malcolm's lap on the sofa, a warm, lazy feeling buzzed through her. He nuzzled her shoulder and enjoyed the feeling of her skin pressed up against his.

"Do you have to be anywhere?" he whispered.

"Well I do have plans to go to The Hague and seduce a Baron," she stated with seriousness. Ivana knew that important people went to The Hague, but she didn't really know where it was.

"Oh. I was thinking brunch."

"Sure."

Malcolm kissed her neck before jostling her to reach down and pick up his pants. She watched as he fished around for his pocket and produced his phone. He watched her as he initiated a call. His voice changed to one that was commanding and a little brusque. Her eyes registered that she was impressed with this new, commanding persona.

"It's me. Yes. Vegas. I flew commercial. It wasn't bad. Where is it now? Have it waiting at one o'clock." With that cryptic conversation, the Dark Archer secured the Merlyn company jet to come and collect him. He was preparing to return to his life again.

"I'm not even going to ask," Ivana volunteered, standing up and sauntering toward the window. The sun was just coming up and the lights of vehicles on the strip were moving steady below them. She looked at the smudges she had recently left on the glass and smirked. Next, she heard him ordering food from the hotel phone. After an amazing night, the morning didn't look half bad.

After breakfast, Merlyn gave Ivana a soft kiss before heading into the bathroom with his dopp kit to shave. When he came out, she had gone. He had been worried that there might be an awkward moment at the end of their time together and now he realized that she also wanted to avoid anything that would diminish their fantasy. He packed his bags and headed to McCarron, his mind pulsing with ideas. When he returned to Starling City he would start anew. Solidify his business relationships. Find like minds. Repair his waning relationship with Tommy.

Donna Smoak walked down to the casino feeling like a million bucks. Tired, but pretty freaking incredible. It was as though the secret she was keeping – and it was very clear to her that everything that had happened in the past 14 hours would remain a secret – made her feel…more. Smarter. Sharper. More beautiful. More wanted. It also made her feel like her instincts were getting better and maybe her luck was changing. This was, after all, still Las Vegas. She sashayed through the entrance to the taxi lineup and caught the first one waiting.

Please note, there is one more "chapter" - an epilogue.