] o [ ] o [ ] o [

Games without Frontiers

Chapter 40: Let's Take it to Perfection

Rating: M

Soundtrack: Sock it 2 Me – Missy Elliott

Roy snapped awake, all at once. Eyes wide, he stared at the ceiling of his own home and wondered what had invaded his sleep. Certainly, there were no sounds that were out of place, only the soft breathing of Riza beside him and the occasional snuffling of Black Hayate somewhere in the place. There were no more knocks on his door from the two guards who used to be outside, no interesting visits from General Hakuro. He sat up in bed to look around.

At least he tried to sit up in bed. He made it upright okay, but when he tried to move he noticed a very interesting thing.

His hands were attached to two silk scarves. And those scarves were attached to his headboard.

And there was a wicked, wicked woman sitting at the foot his bed, with a wicked, wicked look on her pretty, heart-shaped face.

"Um...Riza...?" he began weakly.

"Oh, you're awake. Did I startle you? I'm sorry."

He didn't like that placid sound to her voice; he looked down and realized what had woken him up so suddenly. She'd been running a finger on the sole of his right foot, which she did again. The sensation traveled up said leg and straight to his crotch, which chose that exact moment to let everyone present know exactly what it thought of being woken up so suddenly and so naughtily.

He saw the smile on Riza's face grow with each inch he grew. "Um... I suppose it's your turn now?" he said, trying to rise to the occasion. Being tied made him just the smallest bit nervous. Not that he was against the idea, but the feeling always accompanied the act, no matter how many times he tried it.

"Do you trust me?" she asked softly, moving until she was sitting beside him.

"Impeccably," he answered swiftly, noting the minute nervousness in the back of those beautiful eyes of hers. With the way she was sitting there, he could barely make out the curve of her stomach, and the fullness of her breasts beneath the gown. He knew she was a bit embarrassed by the way she was expanding, a little irritated with the little marks the baby left here and there on her body. But his only goal was to touch her, to trace each tiny spider vein, each little stretch mark until she made that little sound in the back of her throat. He even reached out – and stopped.

Her mouth quirked. "I know the feeling," she whispered, then without much more warning than that, bent over him and kissed him right on the side of his hip.

He twitched.

She placed a hand flat on his stomach. "I'm going to have to ask you to stay still, Roy."

He shut his eyes for a moment and digested that. Then fixed his gaze on the ceiling and tried to think of anything else but... the darkness suddenly covering his eyes. He was startlingly speech-impaired all at once, as she tied the black scarf over his eyes.

"Is this all right?" he heard her say, without a touch of reservation in her voice. She knew it would be all right. He would have to have a talk with Maes about his wife, damn it.

He nodded, and then swallowed when he felt her hand back on his stomach.

"Good. Because we're going to have find different ways to... do this... soon."

"Uh-huh... " He said, his voice cracking on the last syllable, because her hand started to wander down, slowly, way too slowly for his comfort. " I can speak, right?"

"Of course. I need to know when I've gone too far..."

It took everything he had not to move when her hand reached its destination, and he could feel one finger trace its way up his length. His breath left in one short gasp as her hand circled his cock and stroked, once, twice, three times.

"Very nice. Nerves of steel." Riza's voice had taken a dip, was so low that he could feel the vibrations. "That's not all that's steel, hmm?"

"Riza..." The rest of the plea cut off as she read his mind. At least he thought she read his mind. Something warm and wet surrounded the tip of his cock, and then slowly lowered. She wasn't... she couldn't... his hips twitched again. He couldn't help it, he couldn't help it, oh, please don't stop!

"Do that again and I'll stop, all right?"

He nodded frantically, remembering almost the same words coming out of his own mouth a short hour ago. At least she could see him touching her, kissing her. Riza was mean, truly mean and all he could do was hang on and oh, dear God, she was taking him into her mouth. She never did that, except that one time when she almost choked and oh, he had to stay still because it wouldn't do for her to choke now, not now when she was sucking oh so delicately. He moaned, his head starting to move slowly on the pillow. She was taking him deeper, slowly, but deeper still, until he could feel the back of her throat. And she stopped then, rested, then started moving up and down, letting him go long enough to twirl her tongue around his tip and where in the hell did she learn that from? Oh, yeah. Yes, definitely a talk was due. And a prayer of thanksgiving, to whoever took care of such things.

She withdrew, leaving him out in the cold and trembling from head to foot. "Enough of that," she said smartly. Then he could hear some rustling, felt the bed shift, felt the breeze of her moving over him, settling on his lower legs for a moment.

Then there was nothing. Only her breathing, and his gasps, loud in the silence of the room. What was going on? He moved his head, as if he could look around the blindfold, although of course he knew he couldn't see, that was the meaning of this torture, talk about loss of control, oh, oh...

He heard and felt the movement, then her hand taking him once more and... Was that... yes, she was guiding him, sliding him in... Oh... fuck... a strangled sound left him and he pulled at the bonds, trying, trying so hard not to move, because she promised she would stop if he moved and she couldn't stop.

Not now while she was so tight around his cock, sliding up and down, moving as effortlessly as she had a few months ago and he would shake her if she said one more thing about her so-called bulk, about how she was the size of a river barge, because she was light, light as a feather, light as heaven, moving up and down, slowly, oh, so slowly and down and rocking back and forth, just tightening enough to make things explode in the back of his brain.

He wasn't going to last much longer if she kept this up. Not being able to see, only feel her hotness, her tightness, her smoothness, and he couldn't touch, couldn't move, and, okay, he was going to die. No more dreams of being the Fuhrer, no, not for him, because he was going to be dead, and who wanted a dead Fuhrer hanging around, stinking up the place?

He only hoped she would tell their child that he loved him... her... whatever it was, and damn it she was coming, he could feel the little spasms inside of her, hear the tiny pants she made when she was in that state. He could only picture her head thrown back, her back as arched as far as it would go, her hair tousled and tangled on her shoulders, and that was all he needed.

Okay, he wasn't quite dead. But his vocal chords were done for the next ten years. He was sure he shattered them with that yell. People for miles would hear him.

Every inch of his skin tingled as she moved. When she placed her hand on his arm to brace herself, he gasped, because he felt the shock all through him. A whimper escaped him unbidden, and again as her hand moved sweeping over his midsection as she settled on her side, moved up his chest slowly, then to the blindfold.

She fingered it for a moment–she wasn't going to leave it there, was she–then she move to untie it.

He blinked, even though it was still half-dark. His lashes felt wet and as he opened his eyes, moisture leaked out of the edges and down the side of his face.

She caught one of the tears with her fingertip, then moved and left a kiss on his temple. "Feel better about this place, now?" she asked, breathless herself.

He turned his head to look at her. Her eyes were shut, lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. Her lips were swollen, moist and begging to be kissed.

There was one problem. "Ah... do I get loose tonight? Or do you have more for me?"

She chuckled and moved, reaching up to untie him. As soon as he was free, he turned, before she could move and pinned her on her back. Only for a moment, because he knew better, just long enough to drop a kiss on those perfect lips. She tugged his bottom lip between hers and nibbled a moment, then let him up so she could move to her side. "I think that'll be enough for tonight. Can't use it all up at once."

Use it up? He felt like a boneless doll and she was talking about using it up.

His phone rang, completely spoiling the moment. He couldn't move, not even an inch. He looked hopefully at her.

"If I answer it, with our luck...," she said.

He sighed and made himself move. It was an ungodly hour, so it could only be one of a few people. He made it to the phone by the fourth ring.

"This had better be really good," he growled.

"It is." Maes' voice was rushed, with not one hint of amusement. "There is trouble here in Central. It's Ed again, and this time Alphonse is a mess too. Someone needs to come.

"What the hell–?" Roy yelled into the phone. Riza sat straight up, hearing it in his voice. "What's going on?"

"I can't tell you everything on the phone," Maes told him. "Just... on second thought, don't come yourself. That might be too dangerous. Send someone else."

"Jean," Roy said, reading his friend's mind. "Is it that serious?"

"Probably. Yeah, send him. He can brief you when he comes back. Damn–I've got to–!"

The phone went dead suddenly. He dropped the phone back into the cradle. He hated it when Maes did that. He ran a hand through his hair and looked over at his tousled Major. "I have to send Havoc to Central to pick Edward and Alphonse up. It's bad."