Chapter 4
"Then tell me this, Greed..." Olivier said smoothly, as she squeezed and even palmed him a little "Were you the one responsible for the murder of my researcher today?" she asked coming right to the point.
"Ahhhh!" Greed groaned deeply, shuddering a little from the teasing and his building need to shoot his load "No! Wasn't...AH! Me!"
"You had better not be lying to me Greed." Olivier gripped him much too tightly, enough to hurt "I don't condone lying."
"Gah! Ow!" Greed's face contorted from desire to agony, then back again "Not...lying. I make it a point...to never tell a lie!"
"And I'm supposed to just take your word on this?" Olivier sneered, releasing Greed's shaft to rest back on the desk.
"So that's what all this was about huh?" Tenderly rubbing his groin, Greed glared at the woman before him "You just teased me, led me on, to get fucking info out of me?"
"I did what I felt was necessary, to obtain what I needed to know." Olivier wasn't phased by the glare at all "You would do no different in my position, Greed."
"Like hell..." He spat back, intending fully on getting what he wanted, maybe seeing she got a little something too, other than a hell of a good time in bed "...All you had to do, was ask me. You didn't have to do all this."
"Oh that's rich. You stand there and expect me to believe you would have simply told me if it had been you? What kind of fool do you take me..." Olivier broke off when Greed advanced on her, in the blink of an eye.
Once again she was trapped, but unlike before, this time she wouldn't be able to get free easily.
"I expected, for you to just come right out and ask me, instead you try to seduce me, get me all wound up and then decide your going to back off?" Those amethyst eyes had grown darker, more dangerous "I don't think so sweetheart. Nobody plays me. Nobody."
Before Olivier could utter a suitable retort, her mouth was crushed beneath Greeds angry, brutally hungry lips. Immediately her hands came up defensively, to push him away. She wriggled, trying to slide free of him. But his body was pressed hard against hers, his lips devouring harshly and his hands were gripping her waist so viciously, she was certain she would bruise. Though she fought to get free, the power of her fight was weak. Just as she was, under his rough assault. Olivier loathed to admit it to herself, but the way he forced this, forced her to bend to his will, was so much of a turn on. Here was a man, with the balls to go after what he wanted and get it. Though she hated herself for it, her body began to respond to his advances. Olivier's right hand shifted, swiftly into his jet black hair, grabbing a handful and pulling a bit roughly. That elicited a deep wanton groan from Greed, who responded to it by gripping her waist tighter and lifting her onto the desk. Her gasp was swallowed by his hungry mouth and his hands went right to work, pushing up the hem of her dress and scrabbling to tear off her panties. One high heel clad foot dug into his ass, causing Greed to bite down on her lips, drawing a touch of blood. Oh that just made him more desperate, when he tasted that metallic tang on his tongue.
Olivier could not deny it any longer. She had to release this burning, lava like desire, that bubbled away under her cool exterior. After the bite, her lips were set free, her lungs gulping in air as fast as they could. Her hands now grabbed and tore at the belt of Greed's pants, at the button and zipper, determined to get to the finish line, before she imploded. This was entirely insane and completely out of character for her, however there was no way to fight it. Greed's mouth now trailed her neck, dancing ever lower, before shifting so his lips and tongue could lavish her breasts, as they protruded from the opening at the front of the dress. She had no doubt, none what so ever, that he could do spectacular things...with that tongue. Just the lewd way it slithered and snaked over her breasts and into the tiny gap between her ample cleavage, spoke volumes to that effect. The heat was rising in her, the urge to mate increasing exponentially. The second his pants were undone, her hands shoved the cloth down off his hips. Olivier noted, rather curiously, that Greed wore no boxers. Well that would expedite things some, she thought. As Greed dragged her panties off, her mind fuzzed a bit and her eyes blurred. There was a loud sound right behind her and she could easily tell, it was the items on the desk being viscously shoved aside.
"Mmmrrmm, now who's...the tease.." Olivier managed, as her body was pushed backwards onto the desk, the anticipation building.
"This ain't teasing sweetheart..." Greed let his lips drift down the silk garment, across her stomach a bit, before moving back up to her neck "This is just the opening act."
"Got high opinions...of yourself don't you Greed?" Her retort was breathless, the air around her seemed to be in short supply.
"Heh, it's not an opinion babe..." Lining up, Greed thrust in with such ferocity, the desk screeched along the wood floor.
"UUUHHH!" Olivier threw her head back, hitting the desk with a thunk, the feel of him in her was akin to being skewered with a red hot poker, her hands gripped his arms tightly.
"...It's a known fact." He finished once fully sheathed, not bothering to give her time to get used to it, choosing to go with a fast and hard pace from the get go.
The desk complained loudly, the items atop it fell haphazardly about, some rolling off onto the floor. The room filled with the low, panting and groaning of the two. It sounded much like a poorly scripted German porno. Even so, Jean couldn't keep his eyes off them. It was like a hot fantasy, an amateur movie and something only seen in whore houses all rolled into a steamy, animalistic mating ritual. He couldn't believe it was happening. That, and he couldn't fathom why he was so hard again! Just seeing it, hearing it, even smelling the sex in the air, seemed to amp up his hormones and send them hurtling into overdrive. This time, palming himself wasn't going to do the job. But getting his cock out, in this situation was risky on so many levels. Jean knew, if he was caught, he was a dead man and no one would ever find his mangled body. But, if he didn't take care of this now, he was going to be in a great deal of pain and getting caught jacking off in his car, wasn't going to look good on his permanent record. Which at the moment, was a touch blotchy at best. Either way, was risky for one reason or another. It took Jean mere seconds to weigh them up and decide that being dead was more preferable to being chewed out by his boss.
As the action intensified in the office, Jean scrambled quietly to free his aching member. Silently, he spat in his palm and when his fist curled around his throbbing length, he bit his lip to stay quiet. It felt so incredibly good. His saliva working well to lubricate his hand, so it could glide effortlessly along his shaft. Swift, jerky motions. Hips rocking a little, fingers tightening some. Bracing his free hand on the wall, Jean let his head drop, as his breathing sped up. Peering through the crack in the door again, he saw that in the moments it took him to get himself freed and slicked, the action had gone from steamy to downright obscene. Was this all for real? Jean asked himself. Greed had Olivier arching off the desk, his ass – sweet as it was – bounced back and forth hurriedly. Greed's face was once again buried in Olivier's cleavage, where he seemed to be trying to suffocate himself. Olivier was gripping and tugging at his hair, heeled feet digging into his lower back, her moans urging him onwards. Jean's hand quickened, the finishing line speeding toward him, as he blinked trying to keep his eyes from blurring up. He had to see this, see things to the finish. But GOD he needed to cum so fricken BAD! Like a collective thought, Greed reared up, taking hold of Olivier's hips and pounding her into the next millennium. She in turn, wrapped her legs around him in a vice like grip as her peak crested. Jean went for it, his hand moving at almost lightning speed.
Leaning over, Jean stuffed his fist into his mouth to silence himself. Olivier bent like a bow, uttering the most lovely moan any man might be blessed to hear. Greed thrusted thrice more, before his final one drove deep, his seed spilling freely as he gasped for air silently like a fish out of water. Each one of them, went boneless from the incredible pleasure. Olivier seemed to just sink back against the desk. Greed slumped over letting his head rest on her chest. Jean slid down the wall to sit in a heap on the floor. It seemed to take some time, before any of them could think clearly. Reaching into his pocket, Jean pulled out a handy pack of tissues and set about cleaning himself up. Once that was done and he was in decent order again, he peered through that gap once more, from his lower level, to see what was going on in the office now. Olivier's legs had fallen to dangle off the desk, with Greed in between them and still lazing on her chest, her panties seemed to drip from her right ankle. Greed moved a bit, intending fully on getting another taste of her lips. But as he leaned in, a hand planted firmly on his face and pushed him back. Puzzled, Greed refused to give too much ground. This had been the most pleasing bout of sex he had partaken in, in what seemed like forever. There was no way he was going to back off without an explanation.
"Correct me if I'm wrong babe...but didn't we just have some pretty hot sex a moment ago?" Greed asked, in a slightly cocky tone, with the hint of a smirk upon his lips.
"I won't deny it was...better than average...but I fail to see why that gives you the right to kiss me again." Olivier replied, her tone cold and unfeeling, her eyes icy once more.
"Ouch, sweetheart!" Greed chuckled, putting a hand to his heart "It hurts me to hear I was only 'average' in your book...since I found you to be quite stunning to the contrary."
"Oh I'm very aware that I am stunning by any standards." There was a feral feline smile, just a hint of one "But I call the shots on who and when I will kiss someone willingly."
"Did you really only come here to get info?" Greed asked, as he slipped from her, stepping back to redress "I mean, surely you had other motives."
"No, I had only one motive." Pulling her panties back on, Olivier slid off the desk to straighten her dress "I needed information, that was why I came. If I hadn't needed it, this would not have come about."
"Well I certainly hope your not going to have a hit put on me for screwing you into my desk." He chuckled, as he tucked in his shirt "I mean if I had been responsible for the troubles at your place, that would be fair reason to want me dead, but not for this."
"I still don't fully believe you had nothing at all to do with the death today Greed. But I have little more to go on at this moment in time." Running her fingers through her hair like a comb, she was once again picture perfect "Though I will have to look into this further. It will not go unanswered for."
"Babe, I know what it's like to have someone attack you so publicly. Why don't you let me help you?" Greed said, moving closer to her and running a hand up her arm "I have connections in some lower rungs of society, lower than your used to going, I could sniff around, find some juicy Intel for you."
"And why exactly would you do that, Greed?" That icy stare was back, with a piercing hint of suspicion "What? You think if you assist me, I'll fall for you and into your bed willingly, at your beck and call?"
"Well, the latter would be a great perk, don't you think?" Greed's eyes seemed as amused as his tone "But aside from that, I'm not the totally heartless guy everyone thinks I am...well...not lately anyway. What have you got to loose?" he lifted a shoulder.
"What have I got to loose? Plenty." She said sharply, even as the idea turned in her mind "If I agree to this, you have to do things as I want them done. Unless you tell me prior to any actions what your planning if it differs from my instructions."
"Sweetheart, I don't take orders from anyone, I give them." He replied, now staring her down "But I will say this, I won't make it known, that there is a connection between the two of us, so that way if things go south, your not going to get any of the backwash from it. Alright?"
She considered it a moment. It seemed a logical and, dare she think it, selfless type of thing to do. But this was Greed, leader of the H gang and not at all known for his generosity or being the doer of good deeds. She knew, this would cost her. Olivier only hoped she could postpone payment. Indefinitely. Jean waited on baited breath, to hear what the outcome would be. If this went the way his gut said it would, it could mean bad news for the city. If Greed and Olivier, the heads of the two largest gangs in Zusyrion city, hooked up and became 'partners in crime' so to speak...they were all done for.
"Alright. I will agree to those terms...however..." Olivier raised a hand when Greed advanced "This is a strictly business deal, there will be no sex mixed into this. Is that understood?"
"Well I could say yes no problem, but that would be a lie and like I said before..." Greed's hands skimmed up her bare arms "...I make it a point to never tell a lie and I really, really won't be able to keep this all business with you. Your far to sexy for that and I just won't be able to control myself around you." he explained, backing her up to the desk again.
"Well, make more of an effort to try Greed." Hands firmly on his chest now, Olivier pushed, hard, to shove him back "I meant what I said."
"Hehe, so did I babe." He replied, his voice dropping to the dead sexy end of the spectrum, those amethyst eyes amused and tinted with lust.
Jean's jaw dropped a bit. Well there goes the city, he thought. He watched as they talked while heading to the doors. Silently shutting the one he had been peeking through, Jean straightened himself and then waited, for what he hoped, was long enough not to get caught. Their muffled voices had passed the door of the room he was hiding in. The blast of the roaring sound system came and went, as the door at the opposite end of the hall was opened and closed. Jean figured he would just slip out the way he had gotten in, via the kitchen. Then he would head home, shower and write up his notes, to present to Mustang the next morning. Before he got another earful off his boss. Counting the minutes off, Jean listened carefully at the door. All seemed quiet. He could faintly hear the sounds of the kitchen at work. Deeming it safe, he slowly opened the door, preparing to dash out into the kitchen and out the back door. However the second the door was opened, there was a blur of movement, a shocking pain in his nose and the world went entirely pitch black.
000
Deep within the financial district of the city, where skyscrapers towered, glass and steel that would glint in the the light of day, now stood dark and foreboding in the dim illumination of the street lights that lined the side walks. In this high rise, high stress environment, stood a building that on the surface appeared to be that of any other banking headquarters or other such important company. However, this façade was merely a shell. A covering for what truly went on inside. A mask, for whom truly controlled it. On the top floor, one hundred and twenty eight stories up, with a panoramic view of the entire city, as well as the distant outlying areas, was the overtly decorated penthouse apartment. It encompassed the entire top floor, with it's own private elevator that rode directly to the basement parking structure. It was spacious, with great marble columns framing the elevator doors. As one would step off the elevator, they would walk into a large square foyer, matching marble columns framing each passageway. Directly ahead lead into the massive open plan living room, with it's sunken circular white leather couch. Wide windows encapsulated the views from three sides, showing all the vistas that lay before them. Luxurious white velvet drapes, hung at the edge of each window pane, with silk rope ties holding them back. The floor was a decadent marble tile, with animal skin rugs carefully placed for both aesthetics and practicality.
There was a gleaming white Grand Piano in one corner, with potted palms to either side. Everything was white, gleaming and very, very expensive. From the foyer, turning right, you were greeted by the guest wing and kitchen. Five stately rooms, all decked out in silks, luxuriant fabrics, wallpapers and artwork upon the walls. The kitchen boasted all the modern convenience of a five star restaurant, with the capacity to cater to a banquet. Down the left hall, were four more doors. The first lead to the substantial library, with floor to ceiling, wall to wall book cases and several high back chairs, in dark brown leather. The door opposing it, lead to the study, where a large marble fireplace dominated one wall and an equally huge desk of pure granite sat facing it. This room was far darker, the walls clad in wood, with animal heads adorning the walls. The spoils of hunting. Next down the hall, the door to the large formal dinning room. With a table so long it could comfortably seat twenty people. Candelabras sat ready with candles, to be lit for an evening meal, their iron frames a stark contrast to the red hues of the wood table top, which was polished to a high gleam. This room screamed of Opulence. From the Deep red wallpaper, to the traditional style portraits that lined the walls themselves, to the high backed, silk covered chairs and the cabinet that stood showcasing the fine china that would be used to serve any guests.
The final door, lead to the master bedroom with it's en-suite bathroom. The bed was the size of a small car, covered in midnight blue silk sheets. Above it was a mural on the ceiling. There was a set of double doors that led to the walk in closet-come dressing room, that could easily house enough clothing and footwear to open a small store with. And the bathroom, well, that was more like walking into some high end Spa. There was an oversized free standing cast iron tub with Sphinx's for feet. A football team sized shower, with somewhere close to two dozen jets. There was a sauna, a Jacuzzi to seat twelve and a vanity to make any woman salivate, with it's sheer size. Though all that stood upon it, were the typical male grooming paraphernalia. Clippers, Nose Hair Trimmers, mens Cologne in varying sized and colored bottles, Aftershave and Shaving Creams, to sooth and smooth the skin, along with a couple Cut Throat Razors, with decorative handles of Ivory and gold. The entire room was an off white, somewhere close to a muted cream, with gold detailing everywhere the eye could see. Real gold. Not plated, not faked, not even gold leaf...but real honest solid gold. The taps, the tub feet, the trim around the tiles and around the edge of the mirror above the vanity, around the vanity itself no less. This was a true show of wealth. Of extravagance. Of boastfulness.
A man with pure white hair and thick beard of the very same color, wearing a smart, tailored black suit, with a matching tie, walked into the living room carrying a silver tray with a phone upon it. Making his way deftly around the furniture and other decorations, he came to stop by a large white leather lazy-boy chair that had a matching footstool. Leaning slightly, the butler place the tray onto the small side table.
"Telephone call for you sir, it is from him, I wagered you would want to take it as soon as possible sir." He stated, bowing his head respectfully, waiting to be dismissed.
"Really now? Well, well...you may go Edison." The broad shouldered man without a lick of hair upon his head, save for the thick moustache crowning his upper lip, waved his hand as a signal.
"Sir." Edison bowed once more, then quietly slipped from the room, back to his other duties, as head butler.
Lifting the receiver and putting it to his ear, the mans gruff, impatient voice all but barked "It's about damn time! Explain yourself! You had strict instructions!" he huffed.
The low, slow chuckle that could make the hairs on any mans neck stand on end, gently rumbled through the earpiece. Having that very effect on the man sat staring out his window at the city he had grown to loath.
"Well, I did warn you that if something didn't go to plan I would have to improvise." The caller said, rather coldly, that creepy chuckle slipping out again "Are you complaining because I killed that old fart? Or because now the cops are involved? Or is it that...your scared of being linked to all this mess?"
"Pah! You dare to say such a thing to me? To ME! I could crush you like the bug you are!" The man all but bolted from his chair, literally shaking with rage, sneering at his own reflection in the glass "I fear NOTHING! I am dissatisfied with your methods! You were told to make it appear to be an accident!"
"I remember the contract. I had it all set up. The bomb was so small and so easily destroyed by it's own blast wave, it would have appeared to have been a simple, yet fatal, gas explosion." The man on the other end of the line sighed almost sadly "But alas, I didn't get to use my cute new toy. And I worked very hard on it. But the old bastard came out too early, stumbling across me while I tried to plant it...I simply had to shut him up before he alerted anyone."
"Couldn't you simply have stabbed him, made it look as though he were mugged? That would have been more preferable than the mess you created by slashing him almost in half!" Saliva flew from his mouth as he shouted, spraying the glass before him.
"Now where would the fun in that have been?" That evil laugh returned "I mean you should have seen his eyes, the way they glazed, the way his blood..so red, so warm...sprayed from his body like a geyser. It was such a beautiful sight...almost as good as blowing him to itty bitty pieces, Grand."
"You are one seriously, sick, sadistic son of a bitch." Grand pinched the bridge of his nose "I knew you were a bit crazy, but I had no idea you were clinically insane. We have no choice but to move onto phase two of the plan. Are you prepared?"
"Have you ever known me not to be prepared for something?" You could almost hear the smirk across the line "I have everything in place. This time, I shouldn't run into any problems. It's much easier to kill someone, by accident of course, when they can't see the attack coming."
"Alright. Do not fail me this time. We only have a short time left." Grand stared out his window once more and the wicked grin crawled over his face "Soon, this entire city will bow to my will. They will all answer to me."
"Just watch your back. From what I understand, one of the detectives investigating the case, is a persistent one. A rule breaker too, he could be dangerous to our plans." There was a hint, barely audible, in the voice on the other end of that phone line.
But Basque Grand heard it and it didn't sit well with him.
"I can handle my end, I don't need a warning from the likes of you." He snarled, knowing it was a defensive mechanism.
"Whatever you say Grand." A more mocking chuckle this time, before the line went dead.
"Pitiful insect. Fail me again and I will crush you with my bare hands, you worm." Glaring at and then slamming the receiver down, Grand scooped up his scotch and drank deeply.
The waiting would be hard, but it would be worth it all in the end. Once his researchers finished, once the final element was tested, the city and thus the world, would bow to him and he would rein supreme over them all. Living like a king. This was his mission. It would be his legacy. Once established, he would seek a wife, to bear him a son and heir, so that the Grand name and lineage would continue. His empire, would not fold, would not fall, would not under any circumstances crumble into the dusts of history without so much a footnote. He would be remembered, he would be revered, he would be worshipped and he would damn well gain the true respect he – believed – he so truly deserved. With this thought in mind and the alcohol warming his gut, Basque wandered toward his lavish bedroom. Along the way, he signalled Edison again and requested female company for the evening. With a bow, to the retreating man, Edison set off to call the most reputable whore house in the city. He would never tell Grand, not in a million years, that the women he welcomed to his bed when the mood struck him, were actually the employees of Madam Lust. Greed being one of Grand's rivals. Edison may seem quite and reserved and all in all a dutiful butler...but it did not escape him as to the goings on. He knew full well, that his boss had put hits out on several people over the years and that at this time was setting actions in motion to take over the city...thereby ousting the other gang leaders and anyone else who got in his way.
He knew, things were only going to get worse. More deaths would come. More heat from the cops would too. More pressure to escape from being found out. And, the more this plan progressed, the more chance that he would be needing to seek new employment. Edison knew very well, what kinds of people resided in the under current of the city. Those, who would kill for a price and thoroughly enjoy it.
000
As the Rolls pulled up in front of the main house of the Armstrong estate, Miles couldn't seem to dampen down his anger. Once again, he got out and opened the door for Olivier, who barely nodded to him – her way of a thank you – before sweeping up the steps and disappearing through the great doors. His task for the evening was now complete, all he had left to do was put the car in the garage and head to his own, small but ample quarters to ready himself for bed. But he was well aware that sleep, would not be forthcoming on this evening. With the Rolls safely put to bed for the night, Miles left via the rear door and started down the third of a mile long pathway, that led to the Annex building. The basement level, had been set aside for estate staff. He passed by several doors, all leading to rooms identical in basic design to his own, though personal taste would make each space look and feel very different. All but slamming his door, Miles let the anger show on his face now that he was safely alone. How could she! He thought angrily. How could she go in there and have sex with that...that...CRETIN! It took merely three temper laden strides to reach the far side of his room. It was on the, compact side, but it suited him. Not caring to own much in the way of trinkets and such, his room was sparse and only held the essentials for living. It was a two and a half room abode. The half being the minuscule kitchenette in what had most likely been a walk in closet at one time. The other two, were the main living space and the enclosed bathroom.
Opening one of the storage units that he had built – with his own hands no less – under his bed, Miles yanked out a bottle of some cheap Whiskey, twisted the top off it and took a rather long pull of it. The fluid burned down to his gullet. It seared and it left a fiery sensation in it's wake. He knew, absolutely, that Olivier had gone into that club to gain information. But when one of the doormen came to get him and he pulled up by the front doors, doing his driver duty to open hers...he had smelled it on her, as she got in. Sex. Hard, sweaty, impulsive sex. It had sickened him. Then as the notion sat a while on the way home, it had pissed him off. Now, all he wanted to do was get shit faced and forget it. Why was it so hard for her to see? He pondered as he slumped onto his bed and took his second pull of the vile drink. He hated the cheap crap, but he wasn't going to spend a lot on something he just wanted to get drunk on. No, if he wanted expensive, it was to savour it. Why couldn't she understand, just how much she meant to him? How much he cared for, even loved her, was devoted to her and only her. Miles knew it was foolish. But he couldn't control his heart, it wanted what it wanted and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. Another pull. Another stream of burning seeping into his gut and spreading through his body, fogging his mind slowly. Resting elbows upon his thighs, dipping his face into his open palm, Miles closed his eyes and tried to drive out the images his brain conjured of what had occurred in the club.
"It should have been me..." He muttered to himself, in the silence of his room, which seemed to answer him in a whisper that he was too weak to say how he felt to her face. No, that was his own cowardly thoughts, playing evil tricks on him "I'm not a coward!" he hissed at himself.
However, he could not deny, he was being ridiculous about this entire affair. Olivier was a grown woman. A beautiful and strong, grown woman. Miles admired her strength and her fortitude. His admiration had grown, morphed and transmuted itself, without knowing it Miles had fallen for her. Heart, mind and soul. He didn't see her as purely a beauty to look at. Oh she had that in abundance, perfection in his mind. But he saw, what few else did, the woman inside the shell of beauty. The stern, the disciplinarian, the leader, all these and more he had seen within her. And that was how she had stolen his mind. Being loyal to her, was easy to do, since she garnered such respect and wielded such power. But underneath it all, he often liked to think, there was a tender soul that yearned for love. As all these thoughts ran like a record through his mind, Miles had been taking swig after swig of the Whiskey and was now, rather light headed. Re-capping the bottle, he let it drop with a gentle thunk on the floor. His body chose not to stay upright and he fell onto his back on the bed. Having failed to get drunk as planned, Miles had succeeded in getting himself worked up over Olivier. A tightness in his groin, a prominent tent at the front of his pants, the sexy thoughts of doing so many slow and sensual things to her, filling his mind. There was no way, not one chance, to fight it off and sleep. He would have to take care of it first.
Sloppily, he grabbed and tugged at his button and fly. It seemed to only frustrate him more, when he couldn't set himself free fast enough. After some muttered curses, some wriggling and shedding of clothing, Miles lay naked from the waist down on his bed. Reaching under his mattress, he felt around for the small bottle of play lube he kept there. Bringing it out once located, he popped the cap and squeezed a generous amount into his palm. The small bottle vanished back under the mattress for safe keeping. Smearing the silky feeling liquid gel along his shaft, Miles groaned as he all but teased himself. Once satisfied with the coverage, he took a firm hold of his aching member and began a slow slide, up and down. Lips parting to allow maximum air intake, as his breathing became laboured. Behind closed lids, Miles could see her again in that keyhole dress and those heels. Visualizing every curve of her body, every contour of her frame, the full roundness of her ample bosom. With every upward stroke, Miles's thumb scraped across his tip and sent shudders down his body. Tongue sweeping across dry lips, breath whooshing in and out, faster and more ragged. His hand picked up the pace, running along his shaft with more slickness, the wet sounds of the lube mingling with his own groans and pants, as he brought himself closer and closer to that precipice. The knot in his gut tightened. The heat in his belly increased. As his hand slid, he rocked his hips up, thrusting into his fist as he pulled almost impatiently now on his member.
"Urgh! Haaa! Ahhh!" Miles could feel his peak approaching quickly, those final mind bending moments, where nothing seemed sane and everything felt glorious "Aaahhnn! Haaahh! Oh...Ngh...O-Olivier!"
The moment his balls tightened and with a final thrust up, hot sticky fluid shot an inch into the air and coated his hand, part of his stomach and his thighs. Panting heavily, he just laid there, letting the orgasm wash over him, crawling to each and every corner of his body. Opening his still clouded eyes, Miles found the ceiling of his room blurry and out of focus. The grip on his now softening shaft, was loose, almost numb from the strength he used to bring about his completion. As the pleasure faded from intense, to a dull hum in his system, Miles reached above his head for the tissue box that sat at the head of his bed. It took a small handful of the two-ply sheets, to clean most of his cum up from his body. Aimlessly tossing the used tissues aside, Miles barely had the strength to roll over and crawl beneath his covers. The anger had abated some, partly due to the drink and a lot to do with his impromptu jerking off. He was bound to have a slight head ache come morning, but that would at least stop his temper flaring again. Closing his eyes again and burrowing his head into the pillow, he once again saw her in that dress...but this time, all he felt was the disappointment from knowing, she had lowered herself to sleeping with Greed.
The woman he coveted the most, desired the most, had given it away so meaninglessly to a piece of scum like Greed. How was he supposed to work for her and follow her instructions now, now that he felt this betrayed and cast aside. Spurned without her ever knowing how he felt about her. It would take all his will power, all his control, to not let on how crushed he was feeling. If anyone were to notice, it would be Buccaneer, that man spotted every change in behaviour no matter how small. And if he found out, Miles would never live it down. Yes they worked together, even gambled and drank together now and then, but damn if the man wouldn't taunt the hell out of you just for fun if he became privy to your softer side, even for a moment. As sleep began to blanket his mind, creeping across his senses like a thick inky black pool, Miles wished with his final clear thought, that he could bury this hurt and ignore the ache in his chest. He had grown to love Olivier, over the years he had worked for her, in various forms. But now, his dreams of one day being her lover and life partner, had been dashed indefinitely. His breathing slowed, becoming deeper and he let the night take him, let the exhaustion overwhelm him. With a stream of moonlight cutting a swath across Miles, the bed and his room, he fell into a dreamless sleep...where there was nothing but the darkness and the silence.