An immaculate stone lobby echoed with the steady click of high heels. The stride was smooth and measured, interrupted intermittently by two pairs of heavy footfalls moving in tandem down the hallway. Late morning rays flooded the opulent space, setting the marble to glittering as the trio moved past the array of guests and travelers, bellhops and maids, going about their business.
One pair of lumbering footsteps belonged to a tall, broad, and brooding Horace Asim Jabare.
Horace's dark eyes roamed the corridor as he and his charge were lead toward the rear of the lavish hotel by the building's portly, balding manager.
The bodyguard could all but hear Rosalie's brain hurtling along as she took in the state of the property and formulated a plan for her takeover of the top floors. Having heard of the untimely death of one of the hotel board's more conservative members, Rosalie thought the time was right for another go at securing the penthouses at The Mandarin. The woman's instincts did not lead her astray; their band of criminals had hardly touched down in Hong Kong when the chairman of the board requested a meeting with Rosalie.
It seemed the board was eager to revisit a deal with the young innkeeper, who was more than happy to oblige.
"They are waiting for you in here, Miss." The manager said upon reaching the end of the long hallway. He gestured to a set of heavy, ornate wooden doors with glinting gold handles.
Rosalie thanked the man before grasping the polished metal firmly and throwing the doors wide.
A luxurious boardroom unfurled before her, paneled in rich mahogany and outfitted with cushy leather chairs. The massive table occupying the center of the room was flanked by several older, well-suited men of varying nationalities. Each swiveled in turn to take in the newcomer, a few brows raising in intrigue, others furrowing in suspicion.
"Gentlemen," Rosalie greeted, stepping up to the foot of the table with her hands folded neatly in front of her, ever the picture of gentility. Her voice was warm and welcoming, as though she were hosting a long awaited dinner party.
"I believe we have some business to discuss."
Raymond was trying like hell not to roll his eyes. The tediousness created by what should have been a simple arms deal had gotten blown completely out of proportion by the neediness of the individual sitting in front of him.
"Mengfu, I'm not going to sit here and mollycoddle you into upholding our deal. If you're too lily livered to move the product, fine, but don't sit here and whine about it. My people can step in and take the burden off your hands for a small fee and I can start looking for a supplier with a bit more yǒngqì."
"Raymond," Dembe caught the man's attention, handing him a burner phone.
Red scowled at the thing, confused as to who would be contacting him just now.
"Reddington." The tinny voice of the Seeker flitted through the connection, rousing the fugitive's suspicion further.
"Is there a problem?"
"You had me following Baldur Magnusson," the man reminded, "I thought you might like to know he's just touched down in Hong Kong."
Red was supremely unconcerned with this bit of intel. "Baldur and I often run in the same locales, I'm not concerned just yet. Keep an eye on him and keep me informed if he does anything out of the ordinary." The man on the other end confirmed his understanding before the fugitive ended the call, returning the device to Dembe with a bored sigh.
"My God I forgot how tedious this all is." He grumbled under his breath, making Dembe's lips curl into a soft smile before both men returned their attention to the problem child in the room.
Mengfu was pouting not at all unlike a child in his battered swivel chair. His office wasn't much to look at, but it suited the man's needs admirably. He sat waiting to be acknowledged and reassured by Reddington.
The arms dealer was not a particularly good looking man. He had an unkempt, runty look about him which made him easy to dislike. His scraggly hair and torn jeans clashed quite obviously with the immaculately kept duo on the other side of the desk.
Mengfu's appearance would not be so off-putting if he did not also have a propensity for jerking Raymond around on deals. The dealer was notorious for dragging his feet and making unnecessary difficulties which only served to make Red tense and irritable whenever he needed to deal with the man.
Unfortunately, he was the only dealer in Hong Kong with access to the weapons Red's clients were looking for, so there he sat.
"If you're done sticking your bottom lip out, I need to know what it's going to take for you to move the product through to port in the next twenty-four hours." Raymond rumbled in a deep, bored drawl.
Rosalie was settled into a comfortable seat at the foot of the board room's table directly opposite the chairman of the board.
"We are open to the opportunity of working with you, madam innkeeper-" began one of the elderly board members on her right.
"Please, call me Rosalie." She offered, smiling warmly at the man, who gave a somewhat nervous wiggle in response.
"Ms. Rosalie," He continued, "We are open to the opportunity of working with you and would like to revisit negotiations regarding the penthouses at the Mandarin. However, we are a little concerned about the liability this presents for the business as a whole. As I'm sure you know, we have a great many hotels under our charge, and it is imperative for us to make the best decisions possible for the enterprise as a whole."
"I'm sure you all have your reservations," she soothed expertly, looking to each man in turn. "It is not often you are approached with an open request to engage in a morally ambiguous agreement." Rosalie could tell she had some of them in the palm of her hand, others were skittishly circling, not certain if they were ready to hop in as well. The stench of greed was heavy in the room, and the woman could easily sense which ploy would work most in her favor.
"I can tell you your competitors are quite happy to reap the benefits of their alliances with me." Rosalie mentioned off-handedly, "Top floor penthouses are nothing short of a financial burden. You know this, I know this, they're a hefty cost of doing business in the luxury market. The Mandarin certainly wouldn't be considered an elite hotel without them, and yet you are paying through the teeth to maintain such exclusive spaces which get booked maybe once per month, if at all?"
The men around her nodded ruefully; they were well aware of the losses associated with these expensive rooms. Though they made up some of that cost through their other guests, it didn't change the fact they were bleeding money on the whole.
"With the burgeoning business opportunities sprouting up in Hong Kong, I can promise you the room will never be empty." Rosalie stated boldly, "By having my employees booking the occupants, caring for the space and catering to its clientele, you can claim ignorance should the worst come to pass. The Mandarin would get an untraceable a cut from my client's stay and reprieve from maintenance costs on the penthouses, while I and my team take on all the risk."
A rough-looking man in his mid-70's in a grey pinstriped suit leaned toward the middle of the table, deep brown eyes searching her nervously. "If a client of yours should be caught on premises?" He voiced the question which seemed to be plaguing many members of the board, as a number of the men nodded in solemn agreement.
Rosalie held his gaze admirably, "That has never happened. However, in the highly unlikely event it does, you plead ignorance and pass the buck onto me. The Hong Kong police force would have to catch me in order to try me, which we all know is about as likely to happen as one of you gentlemen giving up your board seat."
There was a murmur of amusement at this, the tension in the room easing a measure.
The chairman of the board took a brief glance around the room, seeming to confer with his colleagues. "I believe we are in agreement. We would like to move forward into negotiations, if you are willing. However, we must put it to a formal vote first."
Rosalie smiled at them all once again and stood. "Not a problem, I will leave my contact information with your manager. When you are prepared to begin, feel free to reach out."
Handshakes were exchanged amid a flurry of discussion as the innkeeper and her guard made their exit.
Back at the arms dealer's safehouse, Mengfu seemed to have a death wish.
Raymond was just considering putting a bullet in the man to cease his endless whining when Dembe stepped forward, placing a phone into his hand and leaning into his ear. "It is Peter again."
Red let out an exasperated sigh and picked up the call. "What is it now?"
The same tinny voice as before echoed through the connection. "I just watched Baldur Magnusson's security snatch your innkeeper from the front doors of the Mandarin."
Raymond's stomach dropped.
"Follow them." He barked, rising immediately from the seat, leaving Mengfu stuttering in his wake. "Don't let her out of your sight."
"I'm already on their tail," he was assured. The Seeker's sharp eyes followed the caravan's progress through several back alleys and side streets.
Mengfu was squalling about the deal, following Reddington and Dembe's swift retreat.
"I'll deal with this later," Red waved his hand carelessly in the arms dealer's general direction, "Something's come up."
Both men slid into the waiting sedan, ignoring Mengfu's shouting and arm waving beside the windows.
Dembe didn't wait for directions, taking off in the direction of the hotel district.
"Talk to me, do you still have eyes on them?" Raymond asked, listening intently for any news.
The sound of a camera shutter could be heard from the line, clicking rapidly.
The Seeker put the vehicle in park, snapping several more shots of the motorcade pulling into the carport of another luxury hotel. "They've just pulled into Hullett House." He informed his employer, snapping a few photos of the woman and her security being led into the hotel lobby.
"They've gone inside, I've lost sight of them."
"Damn," Red swore, his mind rapidly formulating their next steps. "Follow. If anyone asks questions or gives you the eye, just play the dumb tourist."
The man on the other end snorted with laughter, "You got it, Red." A car door could be heard slamming as the Seeker exited the vehicle, jogging toward the elegant building with camera in tow.
Raymond ended the call, snapping the phone shut and handing it back to Dembe. "Baldur Magnusson has Rosalie at Hullett House." He confided, "Thankfully, the building is crawling with her own associates so she should be relatively safe for the time being."
"Why would Magnusson take Rosalie to one of her own locations?" The bodyguard asked, thinking it was most unlike the older magnate to make such a fatal error in venue choice.
"A very good question, Dembe." Red agreed, thinking along the same lines. "Old Baldur is up to something. He wouldn't have chosen Hullett frivolously. Someone must have told him it was Rosalie's. He's either looking to strike a deal with her or eager to make a point. Let's hope it's the former."
The sedan pulled up into the Hullett House's parking garage ten minutes later, its occupants quickly and silently making their way into the hotel lobby.
Nothing seemed out of place as they took a pair of seats in the quiet lounge, eyes peeled for any sign of Rosalie or Magnusson.
A tiny elderly woman with a shock of white hair shuffled by, giving a quiet "pst!" at the two men, garnering their attention.
Raymond and Dembe exchanged suspicious glances before she made the noise again, gesturing them to a small bookshelf beside her which she tugged. The entire cabinet swiveled, revealing a doorway. The old woman jerked her head pointedly in the direction of the door.
"She must be one of Rosalie's." Red murmured, motioning for Dembe to follow.
They moved swiftly, striding through the hidden door into a dark hall before the bookcase was closed behind them, the old woman nowhere in sight.
Both readied their weapons, preparing for the worst. They were greeted by a surprisingly familiar voice.
"Don't shoot!"
Rosalie blinked irritably up at the hulking bodyguard blocking her path out of the conference room.
"I'm afraid he insists-" the massive figure began, but the woman held up an impatient hand.
"Whoever he is, he nabbed me from an intended acquisition without so much as a good morning. If you think I'm letting him into this room without my own security you're sorely mistaken. Jethro over there has already confiscated our firearms and seems to be incessantly touching them, by the way."
The man in question lifted a vacant stare, seemingly surprised to see them all still there. He put the woman's Browning back on the table with a small flush to his cheeks.
"My guard stays with me or your boss can go to hell."
Horace took a menacing step forward, aligning himself with his charge's shoulder, reiterating her point. His powerful figure actually cast a shadow over the shorter woman, making the opposing guard take a small step backward.
Realizing there was little to be done on the matter, he stepped into the room beyond to speak with his employer. Moments later, the door opened and the guard returned. "Mr. Magnusson will be with you momentarily."
Ted Beaumont's mousy brown head poked around a polished door frame at the end of the dark hall where Red and Dembe stood.
"Come on Ray," he hissed, "We've got surveillance in the conference rooms."
The fugitive and his guard let out identical sighs of relief, stowing their weapons and turning into the room.
Several desk chairs faced a barrage of screens showing a variety of hallways, stairwells, rooms, and exits. The main screen showed a view of a conference room containing one irate blonde and her discontented bodyguard.
Raymond breathed deeply, seeing the woman was quite well and fiery as ever if her hand gestures were anything to go by.
Ted handed him a pair of large headphones, which the man donned upon removing his fedora and sunglasses.
Rosalie's voice could be heard hissing like an angry cat as she bickered with Baldur's security guard. The man wisely gave up the fight moments later, leaving the room to confer with his employer.
"We need to revisit my movements." She whispered to Horace in an undertone, "I've had quite enough of this 'kidnapped by potential clients' bullshit."
Red, Dembe, and Ted's mouths all twitched with small, reluctant smiles.
Baldur Magnusson was a suave fellow in his late forties, with a wavy coif of blonde hair and startling blue eyes. He was very well dressed, his clothing bearing an air of bespoke quality but none of the classic charm of Raymond's three piece numbers.
He strode casually into the room where Rosalie stood heatedly whispering with her guard, softly clearing his throat to announce his arrival.
Raymond's smile broadened as he watched Rosalie level the man a glare which could curdle milk.
"What do you want with me, Mr. Magnusson?" She snapped without preamble.
"Please, call me Baldur." He offered, obviously hoping to garner a bit of good will. His large hand made a sweeping gesture toward the sitting area, silently indicating she should take a seat.
Rosalie eyed him warily as she took the proffered seat, crossing her legs and sitting with a carefully poised posture. The woman feigned polite confusion. "Alright then, Baldur, is there a particular reason why you insisted on kidnapping a young woman on her way to the shops?"
A wry smile puckered at the corners of Baldur's mouth as he took his seat, giving him the look of an aging clown. "Perhaps I am simply behind the times, but I don't recall many young women making a point to carry a Browning hi-power and a Colt .45 while picking out a new handbag."
Rosalie smiled benignly, not giving the slightest indication there was anything out of the ordinary with her carrying so much fire power.
Magnusson was undeterred, "I've heard through several friends that you are far from just a little bird out doing her shopping. Unless, that is, your shopping involves private real estate."
Red's hackles rose. He did not like Baldur's use of the term little bird, it was entirely too close to his chosen endearment for Rosalie.
The woman seemed to pick up on the phrase as well, her back straightening to a level of rigidity which looked uncomfortable. "My, my, how people do talk." She quipped, not budging an inch.
Whatever Magnusson wanted from her, the man would simply have to come out with it.
Baldur seemed to realize he was picking a losing battle, because he changed his approach moments later.
"I was hoping by arranging a meeting at one of your own establishments I would prove I mean no ill will."
"Does a king find comfort being captive in his own castle?" Rosalie offered in a deadly voice, a lone eyebrow quirked questioningly.
The men in the hidden surveillance room all snorted with laughter at the woman's moxy.
"Unbeknownst to you, this is perhaps the most dangerous place you could have taken me. My associates are counting the minutes I'm in this room, and if I'm not out in the allotted time frame, you can rest assured you'll have bigger issues to deal with than what firearms I take on my shopping trips."
Raymond and Dembe turned to Ted for confirmation.
The bodyguard nodded silently, reaching out to tap one of the smaller screens which showed a handful of men donning bulletproof vests and loading various weapons in a smaller conference room.
Red and Dembe nodded their approval before turning back toward the main screen.
Magnusson sat back in his chair, rather taken aback, truth be told. "You aren't what I was expecting." He admitted, holding her gaze with one brimming with curiosity and a tinge of confusion.
"You were expecting someone a tad more polite and inviting." She supplied, knowing what was expected of her. "My modus operandi is typically far more hospitable. Unfortunate, I really don't take kindly to being dragged anywhere by anyone, much less a perfect stranger."
"I am quite well known in your clients' circles." Baldur insisted, "There are a number of your top-tier clients whom I'm certain would vouch for me."
Rosalie quirked an eyebrow at him, her surly gray eyes flickering with impatience. She simply didn't want to deal with this man.
"I know very little of you," she reiterated, adding, "other than you are a competitor of Raymond Reddington's."
Baldur scoffed softly, nodding his head in something akin to annoyance. "Yes, that young buck has been a bit of a thorn in my side as of late. Still, one can't begrudge a little friendly competition. I heard he cornered you in Brazil."
The corner of Rosalie's mouth nearly twitched into a smile, but she managed to squelch it. "He did, so you can imagine my surprise when you tried the same trick and inexplicably thought it might work in your favor."
The retort held such a bite to it, Magnusson found himself feeling delightfully intrigued. "Goodness me, but you are a vicious young thing."
"This is just my tongue, you won't believe what I can do with a switchblade." Rosalie retorted querulously, shifting to a more comfortable position in her seat.
Raymond still sat in the surveillance room, his chest rumbling with deep laughter he wasn't even bothering to stifle.
"How in the hell did you find me?" Rosalie continued her offensive attack.
"I had heard of you from several acquaintances. They warned me you would be nearly impossible to find. However, Howard Hargrave had intimated you owned the penthouses at Hullett House. I waited for the rumor to reach me that you were in Hong Kong and followed suit. A little digging with one of your bellhops and I found out you were striking a deal with the Mandarin this morning."
One of Rosalie's eyes twitched. The bellhop would need to be fired at the very least. She sighed, "Honestly, I'm beginning to regret allowing Howard into my network. He can't seem to keep his mouth shut."
"He is simply ensuring you get the type of clientele you require to keep business booming." Assured Magnusson, eager that Howard should not be booted from the network due to Baldur's admittance of his involvement.
"One of these days I'm afraid his big mouth might get me killed." Rosalie admitted, more to herself than anyone else. "So, I take it you're looking for entry."
Baldur nodded, "Once I heard you turned down Reddington after a continental game of cat and mouse, I thought you might be amicable to working with me."
Raymond sat up in his seat, interest evident on his face. Now who had told Baldur Rosalie turned him down?
He hoped the woman would ignore the mistake, it worked so well in their favor. Having the criminal circles believe he wasn't living in her network meant that when someone inevitably had a score to settle or a bone to pick with Red, Rosalie's network wouldn't even be considered as a potential hiding spot.
The young innkeeper kept her expression neutral, unsure as to who misinformed Magnusson that she had turned down the Concierge of Crime. She was content to allow it, 'Muddy water makes a shallow pool deep.' as her father used to say. Confusing the onlookers with false intel could only serve to help insulate their little band of criminals.
"Have your associates compile a list of your most frequented locations and any relevant information regarding the frequency and specifications of your movements. If I can accommodate you, we will put pen to paper before I leave Hong Kong." She decided to leave the deal up in the air, preferring to confer with Raymond before taking a step further with this client.
Magnusson flashed a rare smile, holding up his large hand into which his associate placed a manila folder. He turned and held the item out to the woman, who took it gingerly in her own.
"I look forward to doing business with you, Ms. Øllegaard." He said, his voice dripping with confidence.
Dembe had handed Red the burner phone once Rosalie and Balder left the conference room. The man wasted no time in calling the woman, intent on confirming her safety.
"Are you alright?"
"Perfectly unscathed," she sighed, settling into the back seat of her town car. "I take it you heard?"
"All of it," he confirmed, "We encountered one of your associates in the lounge who took us to Ted in a hidden surveillance room."
Rosalie laughed, "Oh, excellent, I don't have to give a play-by-play then."
Raymond breathed a little easier, listening intently to the soft voice, amused and perfectly calm as she chattered on about the meeting with Magnusson. He had known Baldur wasn't the type to shoot first and ask questions later, but he still didn't like the fact the man had gotten his hands on Rosalie in the first place.
"I can't believe he tried to pull a Reddington..." She grinned, finding the ordeal rather funny now she was safely out of the other man's clutches.
"How very unoriginal. He didn't even chase you across an entire continent and tie you to a chair, did he?" Raymond purred, feeling rather playful now he was certain the woman was unharmed and en route to the safehouse.
"Certainly not," she soothed, "Only you could woo a woman with such a tour de force."
"Damn right." He agreed, relaxing further into his seat. "Doesn't Baldur know you only have room for one dashing criminal duo in your life? There's only so much free space in that heart of yours."
"Yeah and if Dembe grows any taller you're going to get the boot." Rosalie joked, enjoying the hearty laugh which tumbled through the connection.
"I see where I stand. Already looking to trade me in for a younger model…" He bemoaned, meeting Dembe's merrily glinting eyes in the rear view mirror.
The bodyguard was shaking his head, trying not to laugh at what was so obviously a reference to him.
"What I don't understand is how Magnusson could possibly think I turned you down in Brazil." Rosalie mentioned, the exchange utterly baffling in her mind.
Raymond prodded the inside of his cheek with his tongue. "You'd think by now he would be better at collecting intel. Imagine him waltzing in and attempting to pilfer you without so much as a well thought out plan. Honestly, it's enough to make me wonder how the man has amassed the wealth and power he has. I can't very well consider him a worthy adversary if he's going to be so lazy about it."
Rosalie let out a tinkling laugh, the tirade tickling her pink. "I'm not about to tell you what to do, Raymond, but I would let him remain an oblivious idiot."
Red's face lit with a cheeky smile, "I take it the old boy wasn't to your taste?"
"Not in the slightest."
"Baldur always did have a certain…" The particular word escaped him, "Well, you know what I mean."
"He's like a fussy old woman." Rosalie groused, flicking a bit of imaginary lint from her skirt.
Raymond roared with laughter, "Goodness me, but you are a vicious young thing." He quoted, enjoying the woman's rapidly renewing rant about her dislike for Baldur Magnusson.
Red found Rosalie an hour later safe and sound, submerged in what appeared to be a milk bath in the penthouse's black granite tub. A cacophony of flora and fauna was suspended in the opaque liquid, giving her the look of a mythological leimenide relaxing in a rocky pool. It was oddly alluring, seeing her sun kissed shoulders peeking above the water line while the rest of her remained hidden beneath.
The room was heady with a fragrant steam, bearing a combination of flowers and exotic oils. Raymond could pick up traces of sandalwood and basil on the air. In the bath, he could see pale pink peonies, blood red dahlias and snow white lotus flowers speckled with pale purple lilac petals and deep green eucalyptus fronds.
The man simply stared for a beat, taking in the picture of his lover relaxed and blissfully carefree in the lavish bath. Rosalie's hair was braided differently, almost like a crown along her hairline. He supposed it was to keep her locks out of the concoction she was submerged in. It was rather cute, he thought, seeing a sprig of lilac and eucalyptus tucked jauntily among the honeyed curls.
A lone gray eye peeped open, the woman having sensed his appearance. "Hello, Mr. Reddington," she purred mischievously, head tilting to the side so she might appreciate the formidable felon leaning casually against the door's frame.
Red smiled at her, his eyes trekking the long line of her delicate neck to where it disappeared below the milky white surface. "You look like you just wandered back from Woodstock." He teased, toeing off his shoes and socks and stepping further into the sweltering room.
Rosalie smiled sleepily, her eyes fluttering shut again. "I'm a hair too young for Woodstock, unfortunately. So are you," she reminded.
"More's the pity." Raymond insisted, taking a seat on the edge of the bath, "We would have made spectacular hippies."
The woman shook her head, "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure I'm far too much of a wanton capitalist to be allowed in a hippy commune."
Her counterpart sighed, "Oh that's certainly astute. We've both been blessed with running mouths, however. I'm sure we could sweet talk our way in."
"With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, who could not be happy?" she quoted with a drowsy smile.
Red tucked a loose curl behind her ear, coaxing the woman's eyes open once again. "See, who would have thought you were such a flower child." He thumbed the sprig in her hair playfully, "Quoting Oscar Wilde, bathing in a basin of flowers… You've nearly got me fooled."
"Next thing you know, I'll be asking you if you've got a spare joint in that suit of yours." She quipped, wrinkling her nose in amusement.
Red let out a barking laugh and cocked his head in a curious fashion, "I take it you enjoy the occasional ride on the magic dragon?"
"I enjoy a good jazz cigarette on occasion. I am a child of the 70's after all." She replied, perfectly unabashed. "Besides, out of all my vices, cannabis is the least problematic."
"What's the most?" he questioned, thoroughly intrigued by the conversation's sudden turn toward recreational drugs.
Rosalie gave him a lascivious once over, the pointed look bearing a wealth of meaning.
"Psychedelics. They pair very well with…other activities." She intoned, still ravaging him with her gaze.
Red cleared his throat, "My eyes are up here, little dove." He smirked when the slate orbs continued to drift slowly up and down his person. A lone blonde brow arched toward the heavens, daring the man to tell her off as her trek lingered in a few key places.
Red scoffed, scooping up one of the peonies and chucking it at Rosalie's shoulder in an effort to shake her from her haze.
"How dare you," she grumbled in mock outrage, gaping at the appendage as though he had shot her.
"That'll teach you." He warned, "A woman such as yourself could get into a wealth of trouble leering at me in such a way."
Rosalie scowled good-naturedly, her middle finger meeting the thumb of her right hand at the waterline and insolently flicking a few droplets of water at her counterpart before settling once more into the tub.
"Minx." Red scolded, flicking a few drops back at her. "What is all this anyway?" He waved a finger haphazardly over the liquid and its assorted flora and fauna.
"An old wives' secret, apparently. A milk bath with lotus flowers and perfumed oils, supposedly it gets rid of freckles."
"Why would you want to do such a thing?" Raymond asked, for he was truthfully quite attached to hers.
Rosalie grimaced, "I don't. Qiaolian forced me in here all but at gunpoint. The woman took one look at my shoulders and banished me to the tub, squawking that I'd play hell trying to catch a man looking like a speckled egg."
Red snorted indelicately, "Who the hell is Qiaolian?"
As if on cue, the same tiny elderly woman who lured Red and Dembe into the surveillance room came scurrying in without so much as a hello.
She wore a crisp navy pantsuit with tiny matching slippers which made no noise as she scuttled about the tiled room. A short jade necklace dangled about her throat, a pair of matching earrings peeking out from beneath her short, snowy curls.
When she spoke, her voice was clear and authoritative. "All set Ms. Rosalie, Wo Shing Wo boss is in the big penthouse at the Four Seasons, paid up through the week. I know you're not fond of triads, but they bring in big money, good for business, better to have in the back pocket." The woman's obsidian eyes flickered a deep cunning as they turned to scrutinize the newcomer.
"Oh," she cooed, her voice losing all of its bite, "You did not say your gentleman friend was visiting, Ms. Rosalie."
Raymond smiled charmingly at the old woman, holding back a snigger as he noticed Rosalie peering wide-eyed over the edge of the tub as though she was waiting to be scolded. "You must be Qiaolian, I'm Raymond Reddington."
Qiaolian flashed him a bright smile, obviously pleased he had heard of her. "Welcome to Hong Kong, Mr. Raymond, I trust you've found the penthouse to your liking?"
Rosalie gaped in outright indignation as the older woman's usual rigidity melted to an almost sickly sweet pandering.
Red grinned, "I am, very much so. Not to be a bother, but could I inconvenience you for a glass of wine? My dear little lady friend is terribly stressed." He shook his head, gesturing woefully at the put out woman in the milk bath.
Qiaolian beamed, "Oh, of course, how very thoughtful Mr. Raymond." She simpered, heading for the door, "Can I get you anything?"
"Scotch, neat, if it's not too much trouble?" He smiled benignly, playful green eyes blinking sedately.
The old woman gave a fervent nod, heading immediately for the bar in the lounge.
The moment she left the room, Raymond turned with a sly grin toward his lover, finding her still clutching the edge of the tub with eyes the size of saucers.
"You're actually afraid of her?" He taunted, laughing all the more when Rosalie's face, barely visible over the rim of black granite, flushed a soft pink.
"No," She defended staunchly, "She's a lovely elderly woman from Jiangxi, she's just...mildly terrifying."
A deep chuckle rumbled from Raymond's chest as he reached out to brush the woman's cheek with a broad thumb.
Rosalie's eyes darted shiftily to the door, "Laugh all you want, but I'm pretty sure she'd drown me if I tried to get out."
Her counterpart continued to stroke her cheek hypnotically, soothing her while still grinning mischievously at her terrorized visage. "What is this scary woman's role in your organization?"
"She's my property manager, responsible for all my safehouses in Hong Kong," confided Rosalie, her voice a low hiss as the older woman reappeared toting a scotch neat and a generous pour of a deep burgundy wine.
She set the scotch before Raymond, gently patting his shoulder before placing the tall wine glass beside Rosalie. The young innkeeper's mouth dropped open when the elderly woman patted her on the head.
"Ms. Rosalie has beautiful skin," Qiaolian said rather fondly, "But she spends too much time in the sun. I tell her what I tell my own daughters. No man wants a woman who looks like a speckled egg."
Rosalie's brows shot to her hairline, her attention turning meaningfully towards her companion, who was having a hell of a time biting back his laughter.
He nodded around a mouthful of scotch, having inhaled a much too large sip upon seeing his counterpart's expression.
There were many times in his life where Raymond Reddington was completely incapable of restraining his mouth. The witty comebacks circling in his mind periodically demanded to be released. These instances often got him into no small measure of trouble with lovers, associates, local law enforcement…
This was turning out to be one of those moments.
With the air of one cradling a hand grenade, Red leaned forward, causing Qiaolian to lean in as well.
"Well, you know, Madam, I happen to thoroughly enjoy those few speckled spots."
He purred the sentiment with just the right measure of libido, leaving the property manager standing confused and slightly scandalized beside her employer.
Qiaolian scowled at Reddington before chastising him in rapid Mandarin. She tutted at both fugitives, giving one last irritable shake of her head before practically stomping out of the apartment.
Raymond beamed and waved as she left, going so far as to follow her to the door of the master suite, nodding interestedly as she grumbled the whole way.
Once free of the intruder to their domain, Red locked the door to the suite and meandered back to his spot beside the tub.
Rosalie was shaking with suppressed laughter, her eyes streaming with mirth. "Serves you right, you old flirt." She giggled, pleased to be rid of the woman's badgering.
Raymond smirked and rolled up his sleeves. "What a shame, she was starting to grow on me."
The young woman sniggered, eyeing him warily as the man's arm dipped below the opaque liquid.
Red winked at her, his fingertips closing around the little brass plug at the bottom of the basin and tugging slightly. A loud sucking noise could be heard as the water level slowly dropped.
Rosalie excitedly observed the water's descent, keen to see what the man's plans were.
Raymond stared quite intently at her chest, watching as the white line dipped lower and lower until the very tops of her breasts were bared to his view. Satisfied, he returned the brass plug to its resting place, ceasing the loud draining noises.
Rosalie tilted her head curiously, still unsure of what the man was doing.
Red's broad hand caressed her inner thigh before surfacing, making the woman writhe excitedly.
Flicking the excess droplets from his fingers back into the tub, Red grasped a nearby hand towel and patted his arm. He dried himself, then reached over the side of the basin and gently dried the sun-loved expanse of skin above the swell of Rosalie's breasts.
"I like speckled eggs," he insisted, his tone playful. "This particular smattering owns me body and soul."
His green eyes trailed the spot adoringly while he traced roughened fingertips over the lovely little constellation.
"That old biddy will have to fight me if she wishes to rid you of these."
Rosalie cackled merrily at the thought, "I would pay big bucks to see you in a granny cage match."
Raymond shook his head, the image delightfully absurd. He passed the wineglass back to its owner, silently suggesting she have a drink and relax.
"Do you mind if I shower?" He asked, looking forward to washing away the stress of a busy day.
"Not at all," Rosalie waggled her eyebrows, "I'm always in the mood for a free show."
Red turned to the enclosure, which stood directly beside the bathtub, encased in perfectly clear glass. Thankfully, Raymond was a confident man, not one to be put off by the blatant ogling of a beautiful woman. Quite the opposite, actually.
With a devil-may-care smirk, he set about giving her the kind of show which all but guaranteed he would get laid.
He heard a soft squeal of excitement as Rosalie settled into the center of the tub with her glass of wine, not willing to miss a single second.
Red carefully stripped down, taking his sweet time with each article of clothing. His waistcoat was unbuttoned and draped over his sink, followed by the silk oxblood tie. His eyes didn't leave Rosalie once while he undid the buttons on his shirt. Just as he did when in the midst of a negotiation, he held the woman captive in his sphere, bending her desires to his will with each inch of exposed flesh.
Rosalie nibbled her bottom lip, leaning forward when he reached the cuffs. She had always found the action of undoing those small buttons alluring to the point of distraction.
The man's green orbs still bore into her, making the woman almost certain he could see right through the side of the tub to where heat was pooling between her thighs.
The immaculate white shirt parted, giving her a teasing glimpse of the man's upper body.
He turned profile, allowing the luxurious fabric to slide lazily down his frame, catching the collar in one hand before it hit the ground.
A little mew of approval could be heard from the tub, making Red smile. He draped the shirt over her vanity chair, implying the item was hers once she was ready to get dressed.
Rosalie beamed and mouthed a quick, 'Thank You' before resting her arms on the tub's granite ledge.
Raymond stepped forward, thumbing her chin and flashing her a wink before returning to his sensual pastime. He watched her hungrily as he stood directly in front of the ledge and flipped the catch on his belt.
Rosalie couldn't stifle the moan which poured from her throat at the sound. The minute clink of his belt buckle was enough to make her wet these days.
Red chuckled, trailing the heavy leather from its loops and wrapping it about his fist in a neat coil before placing it on the nearby countertop. His lover was transfixed, peeking over the side of the basin at his trousers, her soft lips parted in a tiny 'o'.
The woman was on tenterhooks as the masculine hands set to the task of divesting the man's slacks. The deep gray eyes trailed up and down his body, their pupils blown wide.
The garment dropped heavily to the ground, leaving Red in his boxers. He stepped out of the crumpled fabric, bending to lift the item and fold it neatly onto the sink with the rest of his clothes.
Rosalie watched the muscles in his legs flex with each movement, showcasing the agile limbs with their fine coating of light colored hair. She stared in open appreciation while he moved this way and that, grabbing his towel, hanging it on the nearby hook and stretching quite obviously for her benefit.
Raymond caught her avid gaze, quirking flirtatious brows in her direction as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers. He paused for effect, waiting until an impatient little whine could be heard from the bath.
"Take it off, darling," Rosalie cajoled, chin resting in her upturned palm, her white teeth worrying her bottom lip as desire and anticipation engulfed her features.
"What's in it for me?" He asked, instead reaching to turn on the shower's taps.
"I've got a few spare shekels lying about should you need…incentive," she offered magnanimously.
The man considered her for a moment before answering perfectly deadpan. "Just for you, the first peep show is a nickel."
Rosalie couldn't help but giggle, "Sold!"
Red pushed the soft, dark fabric down his hips at a torturous pace, glancing innocently over the shoulder at his eager audience. He turned at the last moment, only giving the woman a view of his hips and backside.
Raymond Reddington certainly had a multitude of attributes for which he should be quite confident.
The scarring on his back made it difficult to see, but Rosalie could still make out the taut muscles rippling beneath the surface; the same could be said for the man's arms. Though not huge and hulking, the limbs were obviously masculine and held a distinct brawniness which Rosalie found exciting. These traits often remained hidden until the man moved just so, allowing the thick muscles to bulge as he twisted and turned.
Whether Raymond was firing a gun or making love, the woman would often stop to appreciate the simple allure of the man's arms.
Her gaze trickled down his person, getting reacquainted with his sturdy legs and tantalizing torso.
Rosalie sighed her approval upon catching a full view of the man's taut backside. The firm, smooth derrière garnered her undivided attention as he strut into the shower's enclosure. She found the sight incredibly erotic.
The base of Red's spine was the home for her heels when they were making love, and the sides of those cheeks, which dimpled inward ever so slightly, were Rosalie's favorite place to grip when she couldn't help but pull him deeper.
Red always snarled his approval whenever she did so, considering the lustful action indicative of his effect on her.
Rosalie shifted to the far edge of the tub, getting as close as possible to the shower stall.
Raymond grinned back at her, wasting no time in lathering himself from head to toe. He coyly kept himself either profile or facing away from the tub, denying the woman the view she most desired.
His cock was fully in tune with the proceedings, swelling with anticipation despite the fact his playmate was firmly on the other side of the glass.
Rosalie leaned this way and that, attempting to garner the view she prized.
She scowled when Red peered back and smirked, dropping one large hand to his shaft, stroking the appendage in a smooth, lazy fashion. The woman behind him could only see the slow, disciplined movements of his arm and shoulder.
"Come on, honey," she cooed in an attempt to coax him into turning around, "I've waited all day to play with you, and I've got your nickel waiting…" As much as she was enjoying the sight of his fine form covered in bubbles, she was dying to see him head to toe.
Raymond chuckled, turning just enough for her to see the movements of his hand. His left palm held fast to the wall between them as he teased his aching shaft for her viewing pleasure. It was quite arousing, knowing she was just a quarter inch of glass away, watching his every move.
Rosalie mewed, catching a peak at his thick head gliding through his tight fist. She wanted to be the one touching him.
Red moaned when she licked her lips, still utterly distracted by the view of him getting off.
So distracted, in fact, she failed to notice the heavy fog starting to blur her vision.
Moments later, the delectable view was gone, the entire stall having become obscured by thick steam.
"The glass is fogged over." Rosalie whined, already missing her bubble-filled peep show.
"That's all you get for a nickel." Red called with a smirk, letting the hot water trickle down his front.
"Yeah well joke's on you, it was a wooden nickel anyway." She retorted, her tone an effective pout.
Raymond chuckled, realizing he was in a terribly frisky mood. Taking his wet fingertips to the glass wall, he wrote a message for the bathing woman in the steam.
'Peep show, 25¢'
"Hold on now, what do I get for a quarter?" She crooned on the end of a giggle, trying to get the slightest peek into the steamy interior.
Red pondered a moment before writing on the glass again.
'Hunky Striptease.'
Rosalie's tinkling laugh was infectious, bubbling effervescently over the walls of the shower, making the man laugh too.
"Hmm…I just saw that one, and it was basically free." The woman feigned disinterest, fighting the gaiety attempting to force its way into her voice.
Raymond beamed at the foggy outline. She was going to make him work for this one.
'Peep show, 50¢'
"For double the price, I better get a lap dance." Rosalie insisted, enjoying the hell out of Raymond's deep, sultry laugh.
'Sold out.'
"Boo!" She grumbled, squealing with laughter when Red lobbed a wet loofah over the glass enclosure and directly into the tub.
He grinned when he heard Rosalie sputter, the projectile having created a sizable splash.
'Peep show, 75¢'
"Your price is getting pretty steep there, big boy." She heckled in response, swirling the contents of her wine glass while she prodded the loofah with a manicured toe. "Let's skip the formalities, what do I get for a dollar?"
Red's tongue circled the inside of his cheek, "There's my little racketeer." He purred to himself, his answer coming quite readily to him.
'Full frontal fugitive.'
A wolf whistle could be heard from the direction of the bath. "A bargain at any price!" She called, pulling the brass plug from the tub.
Raymond wiped himself a window on the glass, watching intently as the shapely creature emerged from the milky whiteness of her bath.
Vibrant purple petals clung here and there, making Rosalie look as though she had frolicked nude in a field of wildflowers before stepping out onto the tiled floor.
Red eyed her hungrily, completely enamored by the tiny white rivulets trickling down her curves until the vision was once again blocked by steam.
Rosalie padded over to the shower, still perfectly naked, and tapped on the glass.
"Cash up front," Raymond intoned, his voice dripping with vindictive pleasure. "Can't have you paying the fare in wooden nickels."
"Dammit," he heard the feminine voice curse, coaxing another laugh from him.
"Keep it up, chuckles, your tip is getting stingier and stingier." She replied, shaking her head when the man's laughter only echoed more loudly.
Tiptoeing out to their room, Rosalie looked in vain for her wallet. The item was nowhere to be found, and she was starting to get a chill.
"Every minute you keep me waiting my price gets higher." Raymond urged her along.
"I can't find a dollar!"
"Excuses, excuses." Red could hear the little voice muttering curse words under her breath before her frustration finally reached its peak.
Two small, bare feet stomped into the bathroom, their owner reaching out to snatch a towel from beside the tub. "I'll be right back." She insisted, grumpily making her way out of the room.
"What?" Called Red, poking his head out of the shower stall to find an empty room.
Rosalie padded down the hall to Dembe's room and rapped on the door. It was only when she heard the handle turn that she fully realized she was dripping wet and clad only in a towel.
The poor young man's face held the most bemused expression upon seeing his friend, Rosalie found it rather endearing.
"I'm so sorry to bother you, and for God's sake, don't read too much into this, but… Do you have a dollar I could borrow for an hour?"
A deep, rumbling laugh roared from Dembe's belly, making him wipe the corners of his eyes as they watered with mirth. "Only a dollar?"
"Just an hour, I'll bring it right back!" She insisted, not catching the man's meaning.
He reached into his wallet and pulled out the note, shaking his head and chuckling. "Keep it."
The innkeeper gaped at her friend, "No, wait, it's not what you think! I can't find my-"
Dembe merely held up his hand, "I don't want to know," he insisted jovially, "Enjoy whatever it is your dollar gets you." The man grinned broadly, still howling with laughter as he shooed her along.
"But-" Rosalie protested before burying her face in one hand, a vibrant blush flooding her head to toe as she hurried back into her and Raymond's bedroom. She stopped a split second to grab the necessities from the nightstand drawer before scuttling back into the bath.
The shower was still on, its occupant humming softly to himself.
Rosalie shivered, now thoroughly chilled, and dropped her towel.
When she grasped the door handle to open it, she barely got more than an inch before Red grasped the handle on the other side, halting her progress.
"Uh, uh, uh, little dove." He tutted, holding the other hand out, his fingers beckoning expectantly.
Rosalie growled and slapped the dollar into his palm along with one of the condoms she grabbed from his nightstand. "There, you despot." She groused, squirming in the cool air, wanting desperately to be under the warmth of the shower's pounding spray.
The door swung wide, displaying her lover entrenched in steam, soaking wet and tantalizing. Soap bubbles slid down the man's broad torso, trickling through the thatch of hair trailing from his chest to his groin before slithering down his muscled legs and into the water below. His manhood hung quite heavily between his legs, pulsing with the need to be buried inside her.
Rosalie certainly wasn't cold anymore.
Red grinned and pulled her into the warmth, immediately claiming her lips in a ravenous kiss.
The woman readily melted into his embrace, giving in to the delectable sensations the man could evoke. She mewled and clutched him tightly, his wicked tongue making her dizzy as it slipped between her lips and ravaged her mouth.
Raymond wasted no time in sheathing his erection and hooking one of Rosalie's knees over his bulging forearm. A sweet little moan accompanied the sensation of her tight heat eagerly enveloping his thick cock.
The lewd squeaking sounds of wet skin against glass could be heard combining with a chorus of pleasured moans as the pair happily reacquainted themselves with one of their favorite positions.
A few hours later, Raymond and Rosalie were heading out for a dinner date with Dembe and Ted in tow.
The former leaned into his employer's ear as his face split in an ear-to-ear grin. "I didn't realize you were such a bargain."
"Pardon?" Asked Red, thoroughly confused for a moment.
"Rosalie came to my room a few hours ago in naught but a towel requesting a loan for an as of yet unnamed purchase. The total sum was $1." Dembe's teeth shone pearly white as he waited for the other boot to drop.
Realizing what dollar he was referring to, Raymond couldn't hold back his laughter. "She was going to pay me in wooden nickels, Dembe! Can you imagine? I had to demand a cash deposit before handing over the merchandise."
Both men chortled delightedly, drawing a suspicious gaze from the woman in question, which only made them laugh more.
The young bodyguard was truthfully very pleased his friend had found a measure of joy in this life. Raymond's budding relationship with the innkeeper was obviously doing wonders for the man's happiness, and his guard was pleased to see Rosalie just as content with their arrangement.
Dembe considered it his duty to save Reddington's soul; he had told the man as much when he began working for him.
Rosalie, though a bonafide criminal, was a bottomless well of warmth and empathy. The young man knew her love would go a long way toward achieving his goal.
In the break between their meal and the desserts they ordered, Raymond recused himself to the men's room. On his return trek to the table, his path was obstructed by a run of the mill security guard.
"Mr. Reddington, my apologies for interrupting your evening. Walter Hawthorne was wondering if he could have a quick word."
Red's brows lifted in pleasant surprise, he took one quick, surreptitious glance in the direction of his companion. He nodded curtly and followed the man into the adjoining dining room.
"Ray!" Came the buoyant call of one Walter Hawthorne, sitting in a pose of utter contentment at a recently cleared table. Walter was a robust man with a taste for the finer things in life. Homes, cars, women, he enjoyed them all with abandon. It was one of the many things Red liked about him.
The Concierge of Crime grinned broadly, leaning down to give the man a bear hug and slap his back in open camaraderie. "Not that I'm not pleased as hell to see you, Walt, but do make this quick. I've got one frisky hellcat of a Norwegian waiting for me."
Walt's visage was transported into boyish delight. "Do you, now? My god, I'll be sure not to wax poetic then, since there's a much more enticing prospect on your horizon." He beamed and gestured to the seat in front of him with one beefy, wrinkled hand.
"What are you up to these days?" Red questioned genially, taking the seat opposite Walt.
"Serving as chairman of the board for the Mandarin, if you can believe it."
Raymond held his surprise admirably. Walt didn't know it, but he had already met Red's lovely companion earlier that morning. "Really?" He asked, affecting a tone of polite intrigue, "How long have you been the captain of that ship?"
"The past three years," Walt replied, swirling a heavy glass containing a dark amber liquid. He silently gestured toward the nearby scotch, but Red shook his head, there was already a fine cognac waiting for him at his own table. He told the man as much.
"She must be a unique delicacy, I don't think I've ever seen you turn down a vintage this rare." The older man needled playfully, quirking bushy white eyebrows in the other man's direction.
"She pairs beautifully with an equally rare 1858 Croizet Cuvée." Raymond retorted, his mind leisurely wandering toward those soft, warm curves, a hint of wildflower honey playing at his tongue.
Walter roared with laughter, "Jesus, to be young and insatiable again." He sighed, smiling wistfully at the ceiling, "If I had it to do over again, I'd fuss less with my business, leaving my lover's side just long enough to ensure it kept running before sinking right back..."
"What can I do for you, Walt?" Raymond asked, shifting them back to the task at hand.
"Ah yes, of course," the man nodded, recalling the purpose for their discussion. "The Mandarin is seeking a business opportunity with a woman operating in a rather, shall we say, gray area." He intimated, leaning back comfortably in his chair.
"In your circles she would be called an innkeeper, only she's a bit more involved than that. She approached us a year ago about a partnership wherein she takes on the upkeep of our penthouses, utilizing the rooms to temporarily accommodate high profile criminals." Walt's expression turned sour, "The board needs complete consensus to move forward on any decisions and we were split, eight for, one against. Lo and behold, two months later we find out she's doing business with the Four Seasons, Hullett House, and the Peninsula. It's rather embarrassing, having the Mandarin being the last one to get a seat at the table."
"Who was the last hold out?" Asked Reddington curiously.
"An elderly member of the board," Walter waved a careless hand, "Real conservative type, died last month. The others met shortly after the funeral and voted we would seek this woman out before his seat could be filled. She's in town apparently on some triad business. We met with her this morning to see if she is still open to negotiations."
"Is she?" Raymond questioned, though, in truth, he already knew the answer.
"Yes, thank God. We are eager to unload our penthouses, they're simply too expensive to carry in our overhead and vastly underutilized. Yet the others, they have been... skittish about doing business with her. We have waited too long while our competitors have benefited from the connection. The board just doesn't want to get in over our heads."
"Has this innkeeper's clientele ever been caught?" Red supplied, seeing where the conversation was headed.
"Never on premises," Walter assured, "and the company is insulated in the unlikely event that should happen."
"Yet you're still nervous to work with her?" The younger man asked, a tad confused.
"Honestly, Ray, she's young and it's uncharted territory for us all. That's the hold up. There's nothing unsettling about the woman herself. Honestly, if you like Norwegians, she'd be just your type. Blonde, silver-tongued and clever as the devil himself."
"Ah, so you're looking for a broker." Raymond surmised, nodding thoughtfully.
"I would trust only your judgement on something like this, Ray. We need someone who can go in blind and broker a deal which lends itself well to our future. If she's stable and willing to play ball, we want to get ahead of our competitors in other markets."
"You want her to take on penthouses outside of Hong Kong." Red deduced, the surprise he felt snuck into his voice.
"Yes." Walt agreed, "We want to hand over each and every penthouse in our portfolio to her command."
When Raymond returned to their table, offering an apology for his lengthy delay, he found Rosalie on the phone with another board member from the Mandarin.
"They want to go through a broker." She sighed once the call finished, her frustration evident.
"You don't sound surprised." Red noted, his expression cautious, wondering if she had been told he would be the one brokering the deal.
"The Mandarin has been dragging its heels from day one. I approached them about this opportunity over a year ago, but they wouldn't bite. I didn't pursue it too determinedly as I signed the Peninsula the following day followed immediately by Hullett House and the Four Seasons. I had my hands full enough."
Raymond sniggered, "It only takes one to turn the rest."
Rosalie smirked, cozying up to his side in the plush booth. "Don't we know it?" She agreed, placing a playful peck to his cheek. She pondered him for a long beat before something seemed to click into place.
"Would you perhaps coach me?" She asked tentatively.
"On how to broker a deal?" Red asked, not believing his luck. He had been wondering how to handle the situation, but now he could see the path laid out clearly before him, and he was going to take it.
"I mean, if it's not too much trouble," she added, a bit nervously, "I've dealt with a broker here and there in the past but knowing these men, they're going to bring a heavy hitter. I don't want to be steamrollered."
"It's no trouble at all, little dove" grinned Raymond, sipping his cognac and silently basking in his good fortune.
"This is gonna be a gas."
"What do you want out of the deal?" Raymond asked her once they were back in the comfort of their safehouse. The man had decided in the short ride home not to tell Rosalie he was the one brokering the deal. Instead, he would teach her everything he could about negotiating with a broker in the next few hours and give her the opportunity to broker it herself when she met him the following day. This was an important lesson for Rosalie, and learning it in context with an active deal would only help her in the long run.
The man merely hoped she would not be too cross with him when the truth inevitably came out.
Rosalie sat across from him in the lounge with a piping hot cup of tea, burrowed contentedly in the button down he had just vacated. "I need-"
"No." Red interrupted, arms crossed over his broad chest. Memories of his time with Robert Vesco were lining up in the back of Raymond's mind, ready to teach her the lessons the man before her had learned the hard way.
"Not what you need, what you want. There's a difference. You've amassed a powerful empire, Rosalie, it's about time you learned to throw your weight around."
The woman balked, slightly uncomfortable stepping outside her usual methodology for the first time. Red's brusque tone caused a confusing reaction within her, somewhere between sheepishness and arousal.
"You aren't doing yourself any favors acting sweet and lovely every time you seek a new client." He explained a little more gently, "Your network is unlike anything these men could possibly fathom. You're a necessity niche, and an expensive one at that. Every criminal worth their salt wants in." He cupped her cheek in one large, warm hand. "Be demanding, forceful. Don't take their pushback because they will most certainly push back. You have the capital and the influence to tell every one of them to fuck themselves. Baldur Magnusson included."
Rosalie flushed with pleasure at his praise, her confidence rising with each word he spoke. Raymond wasn't one to soothe with pretty little lies. He genuinely believed what he said, and in her gut, Rosalie knew he was right. She had been utilizing the kind of tactics a fledgling criminal needs to employ, but she was no longer a wallflower, she needed to do this.
Red smiled, seeing the conviction flickering to life in those intense gray orbs. "You don't need the Mandarin at all. You want them. They need to know they're a want, not a need, and you therefore won't be taken for a ride to get them."
"Got it," whispered Rosalie, leaning forward to press her lips gently to his. "Keep going."
"What do you want from the deal?" He asked again, taking a step back so they both could think straight.
"I won't settle for less than each and every penthouse above the 50th floor." Rosalie stated, "I want a team of my own associates working on the inside, their sole responsibility will be these penthouses. I don't want any of their people involved, not even the manager."
"Good," nodded Raymond, "Now think bigger."
Rosalie's brow furrowed, "Bigger? I thought what I was chasing was already a pretty big ask."
Red shook his head. "Bigger." He insisted, "What would change the playing field for you?"
The woman thought for a long moment, considering what would give her an edge, what her future plans for her business were. "I've been planning to expand the penthouse network beyond Hong Kong." She admitted, though she had not been planning to approach the hotels about expansion for at least another year.
"Bigger." Raymond purred, holding the little ingenue in a shiver-inducing stare.
Rosalie quaked, her cheeks flushing a soft pink from that gaze.
"Focus," He whispered with an endearing smirk. He had been setting her off-kilter on purpose.
His companion shook her head, realizing the ploy and how she had perfectly fallen for it. "I had hoped to expand outside of China by 2002." She snapped, working to get her head back in the negotiation. "You don't really think they want me to take on locations outside of the continent, do you?" She asked, disbelief etched in her features, "Raymond, they have been the very definition of gun-shy. I've barely gotten them into a negotiation for Hong Kong, how am I supposed to ask for other locations?"
"You aren't going to ask for other locations," he corrected, earning a frustrated scowl from his counterpart. "You're going to demand them. All of them. Every penthouse they own is yours, or none at all." Red's eyes were volatile and flickering with a deep, dark cunning.
Rosalie moved to stand toe to toe with Raymond, her face lifting upward, searching his features for understanding.
The man reached out and grasped her chin with his thumb and forefinger, keeping her gaze locked with his. "Think, Rosalie; Why else would they use a broker?" He tried a different tactic, hoping to lead her to the truth without letting on he knew more than he did.
"Something about me unsettles them, makes them nervous." She insisted, settling on the only readily available explanation that made sense.
"What do you reckon would have their hackles raised?" Raymond goaded, eagerness evident in his gaze.
"My age, the nature of the work. Those were the reasons given for their initial refusal."
Red shook his head again. "If they're open to negotiations, those reasons are deemed inconsequential. What could they want from you which hiring a broker might guarantee them?"
"You don't honestly believe they're wanting me to take on all of those properties?" Rosalie balked again, her tone incredulous.
"They do. There's no other reason why they would want a broker in on the deal at this stage of the game."
The woman looked quizzically at him, intrigued by the idea but not entirely sure of the validity behind it.
Raymond backed off, content for now to simply to sow the seed of possibility in her mind. "Alright then, the broker, what can you offer him?"
"Sexual favors?" She quipped, unable to withhold the witty retort with her lover so close.
Red raised a lone brow in response. "That particular trinket is only for bribing me." He responded with a petulant glower, dropping his fingertips to ease up the backs of her thighs along that ticklish spot just below her backside.
Rosalie squirmed, attempting to wriggle away from his teasing.
"Know your audience, the broker, what is he going to be looking for?" Red continued their lesson, backing his companion into a dark alcove of the room.
"Stability," replied Rosalie, her voice carrying the tiniest tremor. "His reputation, and I'm assuming, a fat payout are on the line. He wants to know I can handle the additional properties, and will keep my word in my dealings with his client."
"That's what a run of the mill broker wants." He conceded, trailing his nose along her jawline, "What about a criminal one?"
"He would want… a piece of the pie?" She questioned, gasping when she was lifted into Red's arms, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. "Access to my network or a cut of the Hong Kong profits?"
"Very good," Raymond growled, unable to keep his mouth from nibbling the length of sensitive skin running from her shoulder to her earlobe.
"Raymond," Rosalie mewled, the tension between them reaching a boiling point. "Make love to me." She demanded, changing the direction of their negotiations entirely.
Red chuckled darkly, taking her from the alcove and heading directly for their bedroom. "Now you're getting the hang of it." He purred his approval, all too ready to meet her every command.
The following morning saw two yawning fugitives partaking in a much-needed carafe of coffee in the penthouse kitchen.
Raymond had spent the majority of last night going through the negotiation with Rosalie, interrupted by periodic intervals of heated lovemaking to release the tension which inevitably built between them as they bickered and bartered back and forth.
It had turned into a delightfully odd kind of foreplay, and to the man's immense surprise, he felt their connection blossom and strengthen as the hours passed.
Rosalie was a quick study, and eager to take any advice he offered into account. The result was an intellectually and physically stimulating night the likes of which neither had enjoyed with a lover before.
"Thank you, again." Rosalie whispered, drawing the man out of his pleasant recollections. Her warm hand rested gently in his larger one, stroking his palm with her thumb. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate your willingness to teach me."
Raymond grasped her back, running a broad thumb back and forth over her knuckles. "Anytime, my dear. I found the whole evening utterly delightful."
They both sniggered mischievously, ceasing their discussion when the guards entered the room.
The four took the same town car that morning, as Ted was refueling the secondary transport. The woman had been pleased at this turn of events, finding comfort in Raymond's continued presence.
"Be forceful, be demanding." He reminded as they pulled up to the opulent hotel. The man barely contained the snarky smirk attempting to overtake his features. "And sexual favors are only acceptable whilst negotiating with me."
"You're a terrible coach." Rosalie giggled, leaning forward and kissing him soundly in thanks before Horace opened the car door for her.
"Go get 'em, tiger." Raymond bolstered, grinning in that mischievous way of his.
The woman grinned back, giving him a sly wink before turning into the building's entrance with her guard.
"Alright, Dembe, take me 'round the back." Red chuckled, positively bouncing with excitement at what was to come.
The young bodyguard let out an exasperated sigh, "Tell me you aren't the broker." He pleaded, thinking about Rosalie's potential reaction.
"I am, and if she asks, you can plead ignorance." The man insisted, gesturing his friend to hurry up and drive.
Dembe shook his head, taking the vehicle quickly around to the back of the building. "This is a terrible idea." He grumbled, unable to keep his opinion to himself.
"This is a magnificent idea," corrected Red, "Trust me."
Both men exited the car, one with a bounce in his step, the other barely managing a reluctant shuffle.
To her credit, Rosalie's stride did not falter as she drew up alongside the eerily familiar security at the end of the long hallway.
"Oh, dammit all to hell!" She hissed, scowling up at Dembe's politely amused face, "It was him this whole time, wasn't it?"
The young man remained silent, only a small chuckle escaping him as he opened the door for her.
The woman's visage, usually so warm and gentle when speaking with her friend, was tinted with a frosty annoyance. She knew Dembe wasn't the type to tattle and would never break Raymond's confidence on anything, but she was still a little miffed at having the truth withheld from her.
"For what it's worth, I had no idea." Dembe murmured his innocence, earning a gentle hand on his forearm. Rosalie gave him a quick squeeze, acknowledging she was not at all upset with him, before stepping into the cozy conference room containing one terribly amused Concierge of Crime.
The man sat in the custom navy blue wool and silk suit Rosalie had been admiring that morning, her favorite white shirt with the gray stripes, and a geometric Zegna tie in a dark bordeaux. He was, as always, immaculately put together, and it managed to aggravate the woman further.
"Hello, Ms. Øllegaard," He crooned, playing his part expertly, "I'm Raymond Reddington."
Rosalie leveled him a lethal look which tickled the man pink.
"You have got to be kidding me." She snapped, triple-checking the door to the room was closed and locked. "They asked you to broker the deal?"
Raymond nodded, crossing his legs and basking in her fiery presence.
She had chosen a deep emerald dress in a very fine mulberry silk. The neckline dipped in a sharp v all the way down to her sternum, while the sleeves stopped at the outer edge of her shoulders. It was a lovely number, hugging her figure perfectly and providing a necessary swell of confidence inside and out.
"Did I mention yet how enamored I am with this particular number?" He commented, gesturing at her attire with his coffee cup. How he managed to procure the beverage in the short time she had been walking through the hotel was beyond her.
"Don't change the subject, Raymond."
"Already so tense," he tutted, gaze traveling her lovely frame shamelessly. "I could certainly…help with that."
Rosalie tried like hell to stifle the memories of last night from overtaking her mind, but to no avail. She couldn't help the subtle shift of her thighs, her mind and body responding all too readily to the mental images and that husky purr. Her mouth twitched at the corners, a reluctant smile threatening to commandeer her features.
Red couldn't hold back a sensual laugh, always pleased to see evidence of the effect he had on her.
"I'm sorry, but how in the hell is this going to work?" Hissed Rosalie, barely containing her laughter. He couldn't possibly be serious.
"It's very simple, little dove." Red whispered with a wolfish grin, "You're negotiating your deal with me now, and something tells me it's going to go very, very well."
The woman gaped at him for a moment.
He was going to give her everything she wanted in this exchange.
He had planned it all along, the thought dropped like a stone in her stomach.
"So last night, all of that was, what, a game?" She whispered, the notion incredibly upsetting. Rosalie had believed he was genuinely being helpful, had actually cared about her success.
The previous night had meant a great deal to Rosalie, and it now felt like some callous trick.
"Certainly not." Raymond soothed, seeing the hurt and ire kindling rapidly behind her eyes.
"I knew you wouldn't allow me to simply give you everything you wanted in the deal and then some. You aren't built that way, Rosalie."
The woman's eyes had fallen to the floor, her teeth worrying her bottom lip apprehensively.
Red stood, reaching up to thumb her chin, easing the plump, reddened flesh from between those pearly whites. "You don't look a gift horse in the mouth, but you're clever enough to know being handed things only breeds laziness and entitlement. You don't suffer either well, especially when it comes to your business."
He explained, "You wouldn't be satisfied with this acquisition, it would mean nothing to you if you didn't earn it yourself. There was an opportunity to teach you the art of negotiating with force, to show you the importance of not being afraid to throw your weight around. I wasn't going to waste it."
Rosalie bit the inside of her cheek, lifting her chin from his grasp and pulling her shoulders back."You're right, I wouldn't." She admitted, gracefully taking the seat across from him.
"No holds barred, Reddington." She demanded, "I won't stand for you just handing me the keys to this place."
"Wouldn't dream of it, little dove." He caressed the endearment almost brazenly, reclaiming his seat and settling in for a long, strenuous negotiation.
A little over an hour later, and Rosalie had painstakingly secured nearly every ask she entered with.
Raymond was true to his word, and didn't give her an ounce of leeway. He battled her every move, ensuring she earned every demand she made. He learned a great deal about her business in the process, which only fueled the verbal sparring match occurring between them.
The tension in the room was stifling, the constant back and forth between them had the air crackling like a live wire, leaving a prickling sensation on their skin.
The dulcet tones of their negotiations were tinted with frustration and the tiniest hint of arousal, making the room feel several degrees warmer than it actually was. This manifested itself in a minute flush on both their cheeks and an abundance of shifting in their seats, attempting to maintain their decorum. Twice Rosalie had lost herself to the thought of taking her lover there and then, the mental picture of them entwined in his chair or pinned against the opposite wall making her cheeks flood a luminous pink which extended down her neck to her very exposed décolletage.
Raymond's mouth went bone dry in those moments. He knew damn well what that little blush foretold and where his lover wandered. He would have been more than happy to oblige, but he instead let her decide if she wished to go down that road.
She always smothered her arousal seconds later, leaving Red to hope they would succumb to their desire once this little dance was finished.
Finally, there was only one loose end left for them to tie up, and the ball was firmly in Raymond's court.
"What do you want out of all of this?" Rosalie asked, eager to reach the end of this exhausting tete-a-tete.
"One hand washes the other," Red assured; he was going to be just as elusive with his demands as she had been with hers.
The woman blinked coyly up at him. "I was informed sexual favors are only to be used whilst negotiating with you."
"Were you now?" Raymond crooned, giving her a lascivious once-over. "I could certainly be persuaded by someone of your…talents." His voice caressed the word with no small amount of indecency. He could just make out the outline of her nipples beneath the thin silk she wore. Both stood at attention, perked excitedly at the sound of his voice, the sound usually a precursor to his mouth encompassing them.
"Baldur Magnusson." Rosalie intoned, slate orbs holding him in a vice grip.
"What could I possibly want with Baldur Magnusson?" Questioned Raymond, his libido unmoved by the sudden change of direction.
"I know he's your biggest competitor. You know he approached me about joining my network. Whether or not I accept him can heavily influence your empire." Her expression was unblinking while she let her words sink in. "I was going to deny him entry just to piss him off, but I could accept him, allowing you access to his every move."
"What could such a thing do for me?" He prodded, his interest sufficiently piqued.
"Come now, Raymond, you're far more clever than that. You know how in depth my network is. You would know his every vice, his associates, who he meets with, what he gets up to on a cold dark night and who he...gets it up with. You would be privy to your adversary's every weakness. If he so much as blinks in your direction you can request my team poison his morning porridge. Don't even try to convince me that doesn't leave you the least bit tempted."
"Oh," Red chuckled warmly, shaking his head. The green eyes shone with a wild approval, crinkling at the corners as his mouth broke into a broad grin.
"Brava, Rosalie. My God, that's good."
He simply stared at her for a long beat, even more pleased when she still didn't buckle. "What would you wish in exchange, my dear?"
"I want ownership of the penthouses." Rosalie tilted her head in a very Reddington way. "Not just usage, I want complete and total ownership of everything above the 50th floor in all buildings. My people will be responsible for running, stocking, and booking, all of it. Even when there isn't one of my clients in the property, one of my associates will be solely responsible for renting out the penthouses in their entirety."
"That's my clever girl." Raymond whispered, something akin to astonishment flooding his gaze and making Rosalie's ire falter momentarily.
A light knocking noise popped the tense bubble which had engulfed them. Walter Hawthorne strode into the room, smiling genially at the restless pair. "Everything in order?" He asked, taking the third seat in the room.
"Yes, we just finished. Everything is in perfect working order, so if you don't mind, I'll leave you all to dot the i's and cross the t's." Red beamed merrily, tipping his hat to the silently seething woman across from him. He would pay dearly for this little bit of trickery, he knew, but it had been worth it.
Stepping out into the hall, the man donned his customary sunglasses and gave Horace an appreciative nod. "We'll be back at the safehouse once she's finished. I have the distinct feeling we're about to have our first real fight."
The Egyptian thought Reddington was far too jovial for someone staring down the barrel of Rosalie Øllegaard's discontent. "Ted has the secondary car waiting for you... You're a braver man than I." He insisted, thinking the man was in for one hell of a fight.
Raymond laughed, the anticipation evident in his features. "I thoroughly enjoy an angry lover now and again. A bite here a well-aimed swat there… Things get aggressive and wild and exciting as hell. Be sure to tell her I'll have a pair of handcuffs waiting should she really be miffed with me."
Both Horace and Dembe shook their heads ruefully, only serving to amuse the fugitive further.
It was another couple hours before Rosalie stormed into the penthouse like a whirlwind.
Dembe blinked placidly up at her, taking a long sip of his tea.
"No interruptions." She growled, blowing past him on her way to the master suite.
"…Please," she added, her voice echoing down the hall, not wishing to be rude.
Horace sniggered, meeting the other man's amused expression knowingly.
"I take it she is displeased?" The younger bodyguard asked, thinking Raymond may have had it coming with his latest bit of chicanery.
Rosalie's guard shook his head and replied smoothly, "Quite the contrary. She's terribly, awfully pleased."
They both leaned backward, watching the little woman stride purposefully toward Red's location. She crossed the threshold into the master bedroom and a long beat of silence fell before a lone hand reached out, looping a sharp Zegna tie around the doorknob before slamming the oak panel closed with a bang.
Dembe's brows lifted in surprise, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he and Horace made their way to the opposite end of the penthouse, as far from the master suite as possible.
Raymond heard the woman barge into the apartment and waited on pins and needles as she tore through the living area like a bat out of hell. Her voice could be heard, carrying an uncharacteristic burn, demanding they not be interrupted. A quickly added 'please' made the man's lips curl upward. At the very least, she was not so angry as to be cross with Dembe, who was in a way, as he so often was, Raymond's accomplice.
Red was content to row with the woman, recognizing he had been a tad dishonest with her. Though the deal they had struck was heavily in Rosalie's favor, the man wasn't so naïve as to believe he could blindside her in such a way and come out unscathed. He had in fact planned for the eventuality, and had taken a calculated risk with their delicate new circumstance in order to secure the boon she desired and then some.
The Concierge of Crime had chosen the path which would benefit them the most, and was prepared to defend his choice if need be. He stood, moving to place his book on the nightstand, preparing for the battle he expected to come marching through the door at any second.
The vibrant blonde strode into the room seconds later with a crackling sense of foreboding, stopping Red in his tracks.
Their eyes locked in a heated stare and Rosalie hesitated for a moment before crossing the room in two long, smooth strides.
Raymond could all but see the wildfire raging just below her surface and momentarily wondered if she might slap him.
To his immense surprise, she grasped the back of his neck and crashed her lips with his.
Red stood frozen for a moment, stunned silent by her response. Time stopped, sound disappeared, and nothing existed there and then but Raymond and Rosalie. His mouth moved instinctively once able, deepening the contact without another thought. He felt her hands roaming the front of his shirt, wriggling his tie loose.
Rosalie nipped the man's bottom lip roughly, garnering a husky moan and a pair of firm, masculine hands on her hips.
The woman finally pulled back, breathing heavily, and tugged the man's necktie over his head.
Without a word, she crossed the room again, looped the silk on the outside doorknob, and closed the door forcefully behind her.
Raymond's pulse raced, aroused and enticed by this turn of events. His lover was immediately back in his arms, stripping him of his suit in a fevered frenzy.
Strong fingers roughly tugged the zipper of her dress, exposing the sensual dip of her back to his warm, roaming hands. Rosalie shrugged out of the garment, allowing the expensive silk to pool on the floor at her feet. Stepping out of her pumps, she left the articles in a heap and pulled Raymond toward their bed, her lips never leaving his.
Red's waistcoat and shirt were unbuttoned as quickly as possible and strewn carelessly in their wake, a grunt of arousal leaving him as his belt met a similar fate.
Rosalie's soft hand slipped beneath his waistband, stroking his shaft determinedly.
A deep groan rumbled through her lover's chest and his hips bucked into her touch, seeking more.
The woman responded by nibbling the length of Raymond's neck and sucking teasingly at one of his earlobes, sending a river of gooseflesh down his taut and aching body.
"Rosalie," he husked, holding her tightly to him and leaning into the hot little mouth which was sapping him of his last vestiges of control.
Rosalie knelt, taking his trousers and boxers down his toned legs in one swift movement, leaving them both in a puddle at his feet.
Red stepped out of them, kicking them aside. The siren kneeling at his feet demanded his full and undivided attention as he stood naked before her.
The man's cock hung thick and rigid between his legs, waiting patiently to be acknowledged.
Rosalie growled shakily, her wet, pink tongue flicking along the bulging length and earning a rapturous hiss from her lover. Her lips captured his head, drawing rhythmically on the sensitive crown.
A moan tore through his chest, the sound making the woman twitch with excitement. Raymond felt the spasm ripple along her body, still clad only in her delicates. His hand moved to her back while she took him fully into her mouth, pulling another hungry growl of pleasure from his throat.
A broad, warm hand smoothed down Rosalie's spine, effortlessly unclasping her bra and guiding the delicate lace down her shoulders to be balled in Red's fist. "That feels so damn good, little dove." He panted, dropping his hand to cup her cheek, following the movements of her mouth as she bobbed on his cock.
Rosalie growled around the stiff erection when his thumb and forefinger deftly pinched and rolled one of her nipples.
Red snarled at the vibration, pulling his lover from her pastime and lifting her into his arms.
The woman's silky legs wrapped possessively around his waist as she ravaged his mouth. Her hands clawed at his broad chest and shoulders, her need for him driving her every move.
Raymond fell onto his back on the bed with Rosalie in tow, a small squeak the only sound she made registering the new locale.
A pair of warm, large hands gripped the backs of her thighs, lifting her as though she weighed nothing and depositing her curvaceous frame directly over Raymond's face.
Rosalie barely had a moment to register the utterly ribald position they were in before Raymond tugged her panties to the side and set his wicked tongue to lapping at her sex.
Her thighs bracketed Red's head and the man was quite contentedly surrounded by her. After hours of intense negotiations between them, she was soaking wet and aching to be touched. This had been all he could think about during the tail end of their negotiations, having his little siren poised directly over his mouth and positively howling his name.
"Such a sweet, needy little pussy." He murmured silkily against her wet lips, "I've been dying to taste you all day."
Rosalie whimpered, lurching at the sudden intense sensation of his mouth on her sensitive sex.
His hands travelled her shaking, shivering curves, caressing every available inch of his lover in concert with his actions below.
The woman let out a wanton whine and arched as he palmed one of her full breasts, thumbing its nipple to a rigid peak while he continued his assault on her sex. A throaty moan transfigured into a desperate cry of pleasure when his hot, wet tongue went from fluttering deep within her to flicking rapidly over her clitoris.
Raymond's arms had circled her thighs, keeping her pinned against him no matter how much she writhed and squirmed. The woman could only quiver above him, unable and unwilling to move from his delectable mouth.
Rosalie felt her orgasm bearing down on her before she could even catch her breath, pulling her body taut, making her rut greedily against the sinful tongue between her thighs.
Raymond growled his approval, taking her clit into his mouth and suckling in a rhythm he knew would take her hurtling over the edge. His large hand landed on the rounded cheek of her ass with a resounding smack and a delicious sting. The action drew out the precarious, agonizing edge he had balanced her upon, delaying her release another millisecond as her attention was diverted to the now pleasantly burning globe of her backside.
Rosalie squeaked with the impact, following with a heady mew of delight as the sting settled in.
They were being more rough than they had ever been with each other as of yet, and both found they were enjoying this wilder, more debauched encounter immensely.
Raymond was rewarded seconds later with the loveliest cry of pleasure and the sweet taste of a lover satisfied as she came helplessly above him.
Red's eyes flickered up to his lover, taking in the incredible view from betwixt her silky thighs.
Her mouth was open and carrying the sounds of her release to the heavens, one hand buried in his short locks, the other clutched his hand to her left breast, where he was steadily teasing the tightly pebbled nipple.
Rosalie's hips bucked endlessly, the long, drawn-out mewls of gratification echoing in tandem with each ripple of her body against him.
Raymond rolled them gently, guiding his lover to her back so he could kiss his way up her trembling curves, reveling in the shuddering gasps fluttering from her lungs.
When he reached her radiant face, he kissed her roughly, demanding entry to her delicious little mouth.
Rosalie immediately gave in, opening to his tongue's exploration, mewling at the taste of herself she found there.
The ravenous kiss lasted several long moments, fueling the desperate need between them until they were feverishly clawing at each other once again.
Raymond wasted no time in snatching a condom from the drawer and sheathing his rigid erection, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in his lover's quivering body. He thrust forcefully into her welcoming heat, the impossibly tight tunnel gripping him perfectly.
The man snarled his desire, finding his playmate dripping with excitement, eagerly taking him right to the hilt. He set a bruising tempo they would both enjoy, ravaging the woman beneath him without pause, delighting in the weak cries of her surrender.
Rosalie moved with him, arching her hips to meet his every thrust, a despondent whimper leaving her lips as she sought completion.
Raymond's mouth traversed her chest, nipping and suckling here and there, eager to bring her to that edge again.
His lover's brow furrowed, her frame trembled its need, burrowing into his warm hold for want of comfort and stability. Her breath came in ragged, desperate gasps against his neck, and Red recognized what was holding her back.
Rosalie needed the control, needed to feel the power she held over him. He had tilted the axis of their relationship, and she was fighting to find her feet again.
He shifted so she was astride him and his back rested against the polished black ebony headboard. His cock remained buried deep within her, thrusting up into the volcanic heat which continued to ride him endlessly.
"You did so well, little dove." He reassured, his gaze not once leaving the fathoms deep storm raging in her eyes.
Rosalie grasped his cheek with a needy whine, her other hand ghosting her fingernails along his scalp. She still didn't say a word, instead brushing her lips fleetingly against his, trying to convey what was roaring through her.
Raymond's chest swelled with a fierce emotion as a few choice moments from that morning flitted through his consciousness. It was pride he felt, pride for her and her success, but also pride to have her for his own. She was formidable and rare and there was so much that they could be together in this world.
Rosalie rode him hard with a white-knuckled grip on the stark black headboard, moving her hips at a momentum which all but ensured her leg muscles would ache for days. She could feel the tight slide of her body up and down his heated flesh, the turgid rod spreading her wide with each delicious thrust. She wanted to take him, possess him, to feel some semblance of control in this new dynamic he had created between them.
There were no words for what she felt for this man. Raymond had instinctively understood what she needed. She had been so very angry with him, so terribly upset by what she had initially considered a callous betrayal. Yet as their negotiations went on, she saw his actions for what they were.
He had known her, truly known her, and likewise had known she would have been twice as furious if he had simply handed her everything she desired. Instead, he had taught her an invaluable skill, had withheld the truth from her, yes, but ultimately it had been to solidify the lessons she had learned at his side.
Her success mattered to him, she mattered to him, and he had gone out of his way to ensure she knew it. The realization had her eyes stinging with tears.
This was not lost on Raymond, whose strong arms circled her undulating frame protectively.
When Rosalie finally spoke, her voice shook with pleasure and emotion. "You are so…so…Dammit," she snarled, trying to stammer out the words.
"I know, little dove, it's alright, I know." He soothed, continuing to meet her movements, driving them both closer to their peak. His hips kept their pace upward into her eager pussy, feeling her grip him, trying to keep him deep inside.
"You do know," she whimpered, her exhausted body buckling as his thumb dropped to circle the quivering bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. He knew and she knew, and everything was too much in that moment as her quaking form began to give in to her lover's passionate touch.
"Come for me, Rosalie, just for me." He coaxed in her ear, his toes curling with the effort of staving off his own climax.
The woman shivered, her shuddering moans ghosting provocatively against the man's ear. He heard her breathing rapidly accelerate, the point of no return pressing mercilessly in on her.
"Raymond!" Rosalie wailed as pleasure engulfed her from head to toe. Her head fell back, presenting her breasts to Red's willing mouth as she shattered on his aching cock.
The man rode her through the peak, one hand fisting itself in her honeyed curls, keeping her arched backward as she came, the other digging into the giving curve of her ass, holding her in a grip which would undoubtedly bruise as her clenching sex took Raymond forcefully over the edge.
A vicious moan of carnal delight tore through the room as Raymond found his release in his lover's fluttering depths. The slick heat massaged him wondrously, greedily pulling every last drop of pleasure from his pulsating shaft.
Red shook with each thrust, easing the last spasms of his climax into Rosalie's quaking frame.
They were both gasping for breath, flushed and riddled with love bites. A fine sheen of sweat clung to their bodies and speckled orange and pink from the late afternoon sun pouring through the windows. They quaked in each other's arms, holding one another tightly as they slowly came down from the incredible high.
"This is what we could be." Raymond husked, placing his hand to Rosalie's sternum, feeling the pounding rhythm of her heartbeat. "You and I, we could build our world as we see fit, could stack the deck in our favor when the opportunity presents itself. There's no reason our days couldn't be spent just like today."
Rosalie blinked up at him with those warm, dark eyes, the gold flecks in them dancing with their usual mischief. "I would love that." She whispered, wriggling deeper into his hold.
"But, Raymond?"
"Yes?" He asked, reaching up to brush her lips with his thumb, soothing himself with her continued closeness.
Her hands trailed his torso lovingly, calming his racing pulse with each caress.
"Don't tell me next time…I quite enjoyed the surprise."
A sly little grin lit her features, garnering an identical smile from her companion, who pulled her into a deep, burning kiss.
