In Control

Illya Kuryakin and his female friend fight for dominance in the heat of the moment. No real story, unnamed female character so you can build up whatever backstory you want for it. Just some much needed (het) Illya Kuryakin smut ;)

Was originally a one shot but I got bored and this second chapter happened :') if you guys like these I will probably add more chapters when I get bored so I can vent all these pent up Illya fantasies somewhere ;)

Illya was outside her front door at 8 sharp. When she answered they both just stared at each other in silence. She was wearing a sequinned strapless black dress that stopped just a over her knees and hugged her figure perfectly. Her hair was held neatly in an updo. Breathtaking.

He suddenly felt selfconscious, he was smartly dressed; black trousers, black jacket, crisp white shirt but he hadn't even put on a tie.

"You look nice," he finally managed to say. "I mean more than nice. You look lovely." He was tripping over his words and could hear the ever smooth Napoleon sniggering at him in his head.

"And you look as handsome as ever Kuryakin." She allowed him a kiss on the cheek and beckoned him inside. "I was worried I was a little overdressed for dinner at yours."

"No," said Illya even though he thought otherwise he wasn't going to complain. Plus there was going to have to be a change of plan for tonight anyway. "In fact I had to stay later than expected at headquarters so I didn't get a chance to get to the store. I've made us reservations at a restaurant I know. I hope you like Italian."

"Italian is fine. Shame though I was looking forward to seeing what you serve up. Can I get you a drink?" She asked walking into the kitchen.

"No, I'm fine thank you."

Whilst she busied herself in the kitchen Illya walked around the living area. He stopped at the edge of the sofa and smiled down at the carpet. Memories of their earlier encounter replayed in his head. But he'd have to push them to the back of his mind for now, he wanted her to believe him when he said he was in it for more than just the sex.

He was checking himself out in the mirror above the fireplace, doing up his top shirt buttons in an attempt to look smarter when she appeared next to him. Despite him declining she'd still poured him a glass of white wine.

"I'm driving." He pointed out, he still took the glass though and took a sip. He knew his limits.

Again silence fell over them as they drunk. It was an awkward silence with awkward glances at each other. Illya didn't know why it was so awkward considering what they'd done earlier nonetheless he took it upon himself to make her feel more comfortable.

He placed his glass on the side stood behind her, slipping his arms around her waist. He kissed her cheek softly and in the mirror's reflection he saw her smile shyly.

Apart from the awkwardness, It was nice to see her like this; acting this way towards him. The banter and mock teasing that she used to serve him with; to obviously hide her feelings, was rather amusing, but he liked being able to see the smile he caused on her face now. In fact it would be unfair to say she was the only one that had used to jest to hide feelings and he had to admit he also liked not having to hide his own smile.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She asked and he realised he was staring at her reflection and snapped out of if.

"We should get going," he said glancing at his watch. He waited until she'd finished her wine before letting go of her.

When they got outside she admired his car. He proudly explained that the shiny black Mercedes W110 200D was a brand new model, he'd had it less than a month. She joked that she'd heard a rumour he was 'careful' with his money and he replied that Napoleon's 'work hard, play harder' ethic had rubbed off on him.

The restaurant was only a 15 minute drive away. It wasn't too extravagant or overpriced like Napoleon would have picked out it was more modest but cozy. He found a place to park and jumped out the car so he could open the door for his date. She smiled at the gesture and looped her arm in his.

They were seated straight away in a secluded little booth in the back corner of the restaurant. She took no time in ordering a bottle of white and two glasses. Looks as if he would be picking up his car tomorrow.

After a few minutes the waiter returned with their beverage and he asked if they'd like to order an appetiser. Illya was about to ask for his favourite until the woman opposite him declined. It wouldn't look good to sit there eating whilst she watched so he declined too.

Illya liked the fact that even though he had tried to order the pollo casa nostra for her and the spaghetti toscana for himself the waiter walked away with nothing more than 'large pepperoni pizza to share' scribbled on his notepad thanks to her. She mocked him and told him not to be so posh and that she wasn't judging him on his eating habits. He was relieved really, he loved the freshly made pizza here but the last time he'd been on a date and not ordered something with a fancy name he was met with a turned up nose.

He was pleased that once it begun the conversation between the two of them flowed easily even if it was perhaps aided by the alcohol. She spoke the most but he found himself more than happy to answer he honestly about his time in 'the business', his favourite food, first concert; whatever she wanted to know. And he was genuinely interested in listening to what she had to say.

They made short work of the pizza but their conversation and a second bottle of wine kept them at the table. He wasn't sure when but at some point during the evening when she had returned from going to the bathroom she sat next to him.

There would be lingering touches. Brushing a falling lock of hair behind her ear. Her hand taking his his to demonstrate something but interlocking fingers and not letting go afterwards. He planned to take her by surprise and kiss her whilst she was talking but she beat him to it. Her hand was moving dangerously up his thigh and he had to break apart before he forgot where they were.

"Perhaps I should settle up and get a taxi."

"Good idea."

He tried to get the attention of the waiter for the bill but he was preoccupied. So on their way out he handed him $70 in bills. More than enough to cover the food and a more than generous tip.

As always the streets of New York didn't let him down in hailing a taxi within seconds. He automatically gave his address as they climbed in the back.

The hand on his thigh was determined to tease him and he tried to look out of the window as a distraction.

A five minute ride seemingly turned into five hours.

Once they were finally back at his apartment he could tell she was eager to have a look around but he stopped her. There was no way she was going to tease him all the way here and leave him waiting for more. He cupped her cheeks in his hands and they kissed for the second time that evening.

"Drink?" He mumbled already knowing what her answer would be. But he had to be polite.

"No thanks," she gasped pulling him back into the kiss. "Bedroom?"

Illya raised an eyebrow and she bit her lip coyly. If she insisted. They eagerly kissed each other as he lead them down the hall. Once they got to his room she seemed determined to be in control much like this afternoon so this time he let her.

She backed him to the edge of the bed and he sat down. She turned round and he was correct in assuming this was an invitation to unzip her dress. He let his hands linger on her waist as the garment dropped to the floor. She turned round and pulled the pins out her hair letting it drop. She was wearing matching lacy black panties and bra. He momentarily forgot to breathe; she looked stunning.

"You're staring." Her words mimicked his from earlier. He was going to retort but his words got stuck in his throat. She pushed him further back onto the bed and climbed on top of him. He sat up, leaning back on the palms of his hands. She undone his shirt buttons and slid it down his arms along with his jacket, her soft hands ran over his body; fingers trailing over the scars he'd collected through the years. Though she still looked at him like he was a piece of art to be admired and he appreciated it.

It wasn't long before his trousers were off and he was lying back. She was grinding against him as they kissed. It was driving him crazy but he refused to let himself go right there in such a manner like a horny teenager.

She reached down between them and he felt her hand slip into his boxer shorts. As her hand wrapped around his hard cock and started pumping him the sound that left his mouth was a mix of a gasp and a whimper. He could feel her smiling against her neck.

"Let me... Let me..." He groaned as he searched for the right words, it would be all to easy to say 'fuck you' but it didn't seem to fit the moment, "let me make love to you. Please." He gulped the last word then his brows knitted together in confusion when her hand left him and she got up. He soon realised it was to his benefit though when pulled his boxers off him then removed her own undergarments. He revelled in feel of their skin in contact together when she straddled him again. He was going to pull her down to kiss her but she had a better idea, she took his cock in her hands again and lined it up with her entrance. She then lowered herself on to him slowly.

Illya sighed at the warm feel of her around him, he closed his eyes and she leaned forward to give him that kiss that he wanted. When she started rocking back and forward on him his arms snaked around her, pulling her closer to him. He suddenly became very vocal; a mixture of Russian and English leaving his mouth. He also kept pushing her hair back out the way so he could look at her but it was futile.

"Sit up," he said to her. "I want to see your face properly. She replied something that sounded extremely like 'okay' so her sat up bringing her with him. She manoeuvred her legs around him and he felt himself go deeper inside her. His surname left her lips in what sounded like a mixture of pleasure and pain.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"More than okay Kuryakin." She offered him a sincere smile. Her hand raked through his hair and he leaned into her touch. Her mouth found his neck and he knew she was going to leave a mark but he didn't stop her as just for now he was hers to be marked.

Her arms and legs wrapped around him brought their bodies flush together. His hands found her hips and begun aiding her in moving up and down on him, each time she moved up until the head of his cock was only just still inside her then she slammed back down, her buttocks smacking against his thighs as she took all of him inside her. They found the perfect rhythm going neither too fast or too slow. The sounds she was making were delightful and he didn't care at all when she bit down on his neck, tugged his hair or ran her finger nails down his back. Many years ago he'd learnt that sometimes a little bit of pain could be pleasurable.

He tilted her back a bit forcing her lips away from him and gave her a few chaste kisses before tilting her back some more so he could duck his head and and use his mouth to play with her breasts.

When her hands begun causing more damage to his body and her legs wrapped tighter around him making her movements on him shorter but faster he sat her back upright. She was moving with a sense of urgency now. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to throw her head back but Illya bought a hand to the back of her head and stopped her.

"Look at me," he growled and she did just that. Her eyes were filled with lust and longing the most beautiful sight he'd seen in a bedfellow for a longtime. "Say my name."

"Illya..." She gasped and then her eyes squeezed shut again. "Illya!" She moaned even louder. Her muscles tightened around him as she came and that combined with the sound of his name in such a manner was enough to make him explode. He buried his head in her neck and her limbs went limp, it took all his strength to hold them both upright. He only just realised they were both sweating and she'd made his heart pound again but he could also feel hers beating hard. Eventually he gave in to fatigue and flopped back. When his back hit the cold duvet he was met with short stinging sensations, no doubt she'd left scratch marks on him. He poked at his neck; very tender but his collection of turtlenecks would cover that up.

"Sorry," she whispered as she lifted herself off of him then settled down next to him.

"It's quite alright." He smiled. "Wouldn't be the first time I've been injured in action."

He felt content as she curled up to him, head on his shoulder, arm draped over his chest. It was even a surprise to himself but he discovered a long time ago that he was quite a fan of 'post sex snuggling' as Napoleon had once described it in conversation.

"Hey Kuryakin."

"Mmm."

"Thanks for this evening. I've enjoyed it."

"I'm glad."

"Have you enjoyed it?"

"Very much," he replied simply. Illya had never been good at engaging in pillow talk but she still kept talking to him despite his short replies.

"Are you going to the party tomorrow evening?"

"Party?" He questioned.

"Napoleon's birthday party."

Illya rolled his eyes, how could he forget. "I don't suppose I have any choice. Last time I declined an invitation of his he literally brought the party to me," he replied. "Are you going?" He asked as an afterthought.

"Of course I am Kuryakin. I love a good shindig."

"Maybe I'll see you there."

"Maybe?"

"Ma..." He trailed off when the girl in his arms started leaving a trail of kisses around his jawline. He wasn't used to giving in to the opposite sex this easily but she was worth it. "Definitely, I'll definitely see you there."

"Smart decision." She rewarded him with a chaste kiss on the lips.

Illya watched her with a pout as she got up and excused herself to use his shower. He could certainly go for a round two right now.

"There's space for two in here Kuryakin," she called out from the en suite.

Illya grinned to himself. Definitely worth it.