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Games without Frontiers

Chapter 39: Everything You Dared

Rating: M

Soundtrack: Bliss – Mariah Carey

Riza had Dennison wait outside of her house. Running inside, she rummaged through her drawers for the things she needed and tossed them into her rucksack. All of her necessities went in before she moved over to the bottom most drawer. It took some doing; getting down that far was getting harder and harder as the weeks went by. This would probably be the last time she could even go down to the drawer and get anything out on her own.

She grimaced. This would probably be the last time she would be able to do anything interesting until the baby was born. At that thought, she smiled. That just gave her incentive to make this evening the best she could make it.

In the drawer, she fished out two silk scarves, both given to her by her grandfather in some pitiful last-ditch effort of get her into some sort of ultra-feminine clothing. She still hadn't discovered what she was actually supposed to do with the scarves, though she liked her idea better than what her grandfather originally planned for her. She gave it a moment of thought, then shrugged and picked up one of the pillows from her bed, rolled it as tight as she could and shoved it in there as well. She knew that Roy only had one pitiful pillow and as far as pillows went, she was not in a sharing mood these days.

Hayate thumped his tail on the ground before she scooped him up under one arm. He gave a little wiggle, knowing that he was going outside, and subsided when she dropped a kiss on the top of his head.

In the car, she spent the time going to Roy's home finalizing her plans. If Dennison noticed her evil grin in the rear view mirror, he didn't comment. He only asked whether he had to pick up the Colonel. She nodded and handed over her key, telling him to make sure that Hughes got it, so that he would have somewhere to spend the night that wasn't a sparse little dormitory room. That would also give the people tailing her something to think about when they got to the end of the trail. Dennison noticed the indiscreet vehicle behind them as well and took the circuitous route to Roy's house, hoping to shake them by the time they got there. After circling the same block four times, the unmarked car gave up and returned to whatever rock under which such little spies lived. She wasn't letting anything–anything–spoil this evening.

She let herself into Roy's house and looked around, surprised that it was returned to its simple state so quickly. They even removed and replaced the broken chair. On the table was a stack of neatly placed gloves. She smiled at that. Taking those was like taking the life from him. Still, the place had an air of oppression about it, as if the memory of confinement still hung in the air. She dared not open the window, but she knew she could find another way to lift the leftover feeling. She would not allow Roy to think of his home as a prison, a place where his choices were limited. The memory she was about to generate would go a long way to do that, she was sure.

She looked at the watch on Roy's bedside table and realized she didn't have much time. Just enough for a quick shower, soothing on her back. The gown was nothing she'd ever expected to wear in all her life after leaving her grandfather's house; it was a...fluffy concoction of white cotton and lace, with tiny pearl buttons down the front. Long in the sleeves, high in the neck and reaching the floor, it was entirely reminiscent of something one of those damsels in distress would wear in her favorite romance novel. But, it was comfortable, it kept her warm when she needed it to, cool when she needed it to and the last time she'd worn it for Roy, his eyes crossed. He said it was something about the way the light shone on it, giving him just the barest hint of silhouette, just enough to titillate.

Riza shrugged. There was no explaining the workings of this man's mind. She rubbed at her hair with a towel until it was almost dry and left it in its tousled state. She looked at herself in the mirror tacked to the wall then and rolled her eyes. The things she did for this man. She should have several medals by now.

After she'd dressed, she stood there with the silk scarves and considered the big four-poster bed. Where could she...the headboard might work...or maybe she could use one of the posts...

The sound of the key in the lock caught her attention. Well, the sound of someone attempting to put the key into the lock. She smiled. She hoped that he was not too drunk to do what she wanted him to do. Her smile grew wider as she remembered that it really hadn't mattered how drunk he was. He always performed.

He stumbled slightly over the threshold, squinting to see into the room. She was standing next to the bed, so she knew she wasn't too hard to see, especially in the glowing white dressing gown. And yes, she'd arranged it so his lamp shone on her, giving him that silhouette as the first thing he saw. As his eyes rested on her, he froze, wavering slightly on his feet.

"I certainly hope you behaved yourself after I left, Roy," she said softly. "You know how I feel about you and alcohol."

"I think...I'm gonna kill Maes for keeping me there the extra hour," Roy said, his voice surprisingly steady. "You know I didn't have much more after you left."

Riza shook her head and sat on the edge of the bed. "Don't kill Maes. I told him to keep you there the extra hour. I needed to make a few preparations."

He looked around, and managed to bend down to pat Black Hayate on his head. "Why are we here? Not at your house?"

"Because I know what they did to you when he confined you here. I didn't want you to feel that this was your prison." She ran the scarves through her hands. "I want your memories of this place include to more than those of the past week."

He moved closer to her, gradually. "What are you...going to do with those?" His voice had deepened with curiosity and the beginning of desire.

"Come closer and you'll find out."

"Do I want to?" He asked.

Her answer was a slow smile.

He finally closed on her and reached out a hand, pulling one of the scarves from her hands. He tugged it between his hands. "So soft...and strong..."

"Silk is like that."

He flicked a look in her direction. "So are you."

Riza laughed. "You never cease do you?"

"Just let me know when it finally gets to you and I'll stop."

"Hm." She pushed herself back on the bed and leaned against the headboard. "Remember when you asked me to try something a few months ago? I told you I wasn't ready for it yet."

His hands froze. She could see the thoughts moving behind his eyes. "I... think I remember."

"Think hard," she whispered. "It involved using something like this..."

He gasped softly. "Yes... you have me now."

"Only now?" She asked with light mocking in her voice. "Do you know the reason I didn't want to?"

He looked up with haunted eyes. "Because of what that... bastard did to you?"

Riza nodded. "That...and... the loss of control." She reached up and tied one end of the scarf in her hand to the headboard. "You know that my hands are vital to me. To what I do, to the way I protect you. I need always to have access to my weapon. For them to be...bound in that way is a severe loss of control for me." She hoped she was explaining clearly enough for him to understand. "It... scares me sometimes."

He grimaced and looked away from her for a moment. "When they took my ignition gloves... and then removed everything I could even use to make a spark...it hurt more than anything they did to me. It was like they had tied me up against the wall and left me there to hang, helpless." He looked back at her in realization. "The way Kimblee had you..."

She nodded. "They took control from you." Riza looked up at him.

He blinked at her for a moment. "And you want to give me my control... back? Like this?" He shook his head. "No, you don't need to do this. It's not necessary."

"But," and now she smiled mischievously, "I want to. I'm... curious."

"Curious." He sat on the edge of the bed and stared, then shook his head. "Curious, the woman says. Then presented her with a mischievous smile of his own. "You trust me?"

"You need to ask me that question?"

"This can't be comfortable for you... aren't you suppose to... stay off of your back?"

She spread her hands wide. "Do I look like I'm on my back?"

He considered her sitting there against the headboard. "How are... how can we...," He frowned.

"Come on, Roy, I know you can be...creative."

He flushed and slid closer to her, just enough. "Let me see what I can come up with," he breathed against her mouth, and then reached over and tied the other scarf to the headboard on her other side. Then he took the other end and looped it around her wrist, which she freely gave him. "Is that too tight?" he asked.

Riza shook her head, breathless already. She tugged experimentally and had a heady feeling that was a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. But she trusted him. He moved to tie her other wrist as well, asking her again about the tightness. When she nodded that everything was all right, he stood, and started to peel off his clothes.

She watched him, watched every move he made. Each button loosed, each inch of his skin exposed. She moved her hand to help him, but was stopped by the tension of the silk. A frisson skipped down her spine, just at the idea that she was almost helpless.

And he had all the control.

But, it wasn't the terrible cold feeling she'd had when Kimblee had taken her and bound her to that pipe in that disgusting room. It was a warm feeling of expectancy, wondering what he was going to do next.

He stood there in front of her, naked, and her eyes hungrily raked him from head to foot. She picked out each scar he'd earned throughout his years in the military and caressed them with her eyes. Then her eyes settled to a few inches below his waist and her eyes widened slightly.

He followed her glance. "You see what you do to me?" He asked, moving back to kneel on the bed. He reached out a hand and ran it over the smooth cotton of her gown. "I would have never thought such a maidenly thing would make me crazy. But it does." He ran his hand down and hovered around the hem of the gown. "Get on your knees," he said, not harshly, simply. Even in the even tone he used, it wasn't a request. It was a command. With some squirming, she managed to do it. He bunched the hem of her gown in his hand and pushed it up a few inches, baring her thighs. "But it does," he finished. "The mystery..." He wrapped his hand around her thigh and pushed up, slowly, painfully slow until it reached the juncture of her thighs. "...of what's underneath..."

Then he stopped.

She could feel his hands, warm and slightly trembling, right there. She kept her demand behind her teeth; tonight was all about him and the return of his control.

He stroked the crease where her leg met her body with a finger. He had to feel that she was already growing hot and damp just from the thought of what he could do to her.

He did, because he moved his finger closer. She squirmed a bit in anticipation and he stopped. "Hold still," he told her. "Don't move."

She took a deep breath and did as he told her.

"I don't want to hurt you...and I know things can get uncomfortable for you quickly." His index finger flicked at her, making her gasp and jerk against the bonds holding her. He'd given her about a foot of leeway, but she still couldn't move farther than that. "And I also know how...sensitive you are. You are very sensitive, aren't you?"

She nodded, because her heart was in her throat and what he was doing with that finger...he flicked again and she twitched involuntarily and moaned low in her throat.

He leaned forward and kissed her throat, grazing her skin with his teeth. She shivered. He wandered up to her ear and flicked his tongue against her. "You like that?"

She nodded, almost frantically.

He finally stopped torturing her with his finger, rested his hand against her and moved it in a circular motion. His first two fingers dipped into her, and pushed deep, making her arch against him.

He stopped again, giving her a hard look. "I said don't move, right?" he said softly, with a layer of menace overlying it. She shivered, then subsided. When he decided she was ready again, he continued to move those fingers. As he worked her with his hand he moved closer, so close she could just feel his skin against her. His other hand snaked under the gown and ran it over her behind and up her back, leaving heat trails in their wake.

Riza whimpered as he stroked her closer to climax, close with each fluttering motion of those two fingers. Then he wrapped his free hand over her shoulder and pushed down, impaling her completely. It took her over the edge, trembling around his fingers.

He chuckled softly against her neck as she came down, panting. "You still alright with this?" He breathed.

She nodded, feeling the trembling in his own body. She could feel his need to be inside of her as if it were a tangible thing. She wanted to demand that he hurry up already and take her up again, but it was still his call, his ride.

His ride. Which he was about to make it in literal fact. He pushed her thighs slightly farther apart and lifted, moving himself under her. With the length he'd left in the scarves, she was far enough away from the headboard to make it comfortable. He ran his hands over her swollen stomach, murmuring words, some dirty and nasty, some soft and sweet.

She tried. She tried with everything she had to keep still. But his breath against her neck, his hands on her waist, moving her into position undid her. Her body began a trembling that began at her feet and took over her whole. With his other hand, he lined himself up and then lowered her, inch by painfully sweet inch around his hardness. A sound left her, from somewhere deep, and wrapped itself around his own low groan.

He ground against her and lifted her, almost without effort, sliding into her over and over again. She could feel him deep inside of her, deep and deeper still, until he could go no further. She couldn't help it and started to grind in his lap. "Sorry," she murmured, "I can't..."

"Don't stop...," he moaned, holding her tight against him, and buried his head against her shoulder.

She tried to move her hands to wrap around his neck, but again she couldn't. The motion made her moan. She tried to move up, but he pinned her and raised his head, giving her an inflamed look. He twitched his hips, pushing himself deeper inside of her. She gasped and sobbed around it, able, yet still unable to move, unable to control the movements any further.

"This is about. Me, right?" he growled, twitching his hips again. "My...ah...control, right?"

She nodded, swallowing the cry that wanted to escape her.

"Then I'll tell you once more. Don't–," he thrust up, "move anymore." And he thrust up again. She cried out.

He pulled her so that she was reclined, hanging slightly from the scarves, her rear flat on the bed, her knees bent. He moved over her and between her legs and thrust as deep as he could into her, as hard as he dared. Her head began to thrash back and forth as she hung there, suspended by the silken cords around her wrists, helpless against his assault. She wanted to tell him he couldn't hurt her, that he could go harder and harder, but he choked off every sound with a deep thrust. The only thing she could do was wrap the scarves around her hand and pull against them, making the headboard tremble with the force.

"Don't...pull...yourself...so close," he told her. "Don't want you...to...bump your head..."

She laughed. "So caring..."

"Are you sure...damn! I'm not hurting the baby?"

She leaned up and whispered, "Trust me."

He moaned. As she watched, his eyes grew smoky before he closed them. "Come for me again, Riza...come for me again..."

There were little explosions happening behind her tightly shut eyes as she did just that, on his command alone. As she spasmed around him, she could feel his thrusts grow more erratic, could feel the heat of his breath licking against her body.

"That's it...that's it...oh, my—," Suddenly, with almost no warning, he stiffened against her, his eyes wide. A low, sobbing cry escaped him as he pulsed once, twice inside of her, then wrapped his arms around her, holding her as tight as he dared. She was sure that he could feel the baby leaping inside of her in reaction to the shaking in her own body. He gasped and withdrew from her and let her down, looking at her in surprise. "You...you sure that doesn't hurt?' he said, pushing his hair, damp with sweat, from his eyes.

She smiled and shook her head. "No, it's not hurting. Honest." She saw the doubt in his eyes and shook her head. "Really, believe me."

He quickly moved to untie her, muttering under his breath. When she was loose and could rub the slight tingle of numbness out of her hands, he pulled her close. "I don't want to hurt the baby."

"And you won't," Riza assured him. "We won't fall apart from a little bit of rough play."

"A little bit?" He looked at her. "What do you know about what's a little bit of rough sex?"

Riza ducked her head and settled herself into a more comfortable position, because, unfortunately the muscles in her back were starting to complain. "Do you honestly think that Gracia and I spent all that time together only drinking coffee and tea, and eating crumpets?" She reached out and pushed his bottom jaw up, closing his mouth with an almost audible click. "We talked too. She's a very...knowledgeable young lady." She looked at him out of the side of her eyes. "Very knowledgeable for a woman who was completely innocent when she married her husband. Wanna know what else she taught me?"

"Um...maybe after I recover." He held up a hand. "And, no, I don't want to know how she's so...knowledgeable."

"Good. Because Maes would have to kill me if he found out what I know."

Roy groaned and buried his head into the pillow beside her head. "I'm scarred, now. Truly scarred."

She pushed at him. "Oh, stop being such a little girl," she admonished lightly. "I'm still waiting on you to teach me what you know about rough play. And don't tell me you're innocent, either." She straightened her gown and curled up around him, preparing for a short rest before round two. "I hear that the Academy was a bit of a learning experience for you in many ways."

As he choked and sputtered, she wrapped her arms around the extra pillow. With that threat, round two should be even more interesting that the first.

Because, then, it would be her turn to be in control.