| Subject: Re: Relishing the Burn (NC-17) |
Author:
delle
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Date Posted: 09:47:56 05/18/01 Fri
In reply to:
delle
's message, "Relishing the Burn (NC-17)" on 09:40:03 05/18/01 Fri
Relishing the Burn
Disclaimers: La Femme Nikita and its characters are created by and owned in whole and in part by these entities: Warner Brothers, USA Network and Fireworks Entertainment. The piece of fiction is meant to entertain and provoke interest in the show, not to infringe on their copyrights.
Please note there is strong language and occasional violence in this piece of fiction. Although on the TV La Femme Nikita is bound by certain television censors and standards, these constraints do not apply to fiction writing. In my universe, characters such as Michael and Nikita would act and speak in a manner perhaps unacceptable to some of us in Real Life. Please be advised. All “adult” chapters are so noted and are not intended for reading by children under age 18.
Note: this entire story is rated NC-17. Don’t read it if you’re not supposed to.
For Shanola: Because she told me to. And for Athena, who suggested the premise that became this escapade. Don’t blame her, the fault is all mine.
Time to pay the piper.
Naked, she sat in the middle of the bed, in the perfect center of the white antiseptic room. Hands clenched, knees drawn up and pressed firmly together, her eyes were riveted on the wall-sized pane of mirrored glass across from her. He was there, she knew. Chatting with Operations and Madeline like old friends, licking his thick slug lips with barely concealed anticipation.
Perry Bauer.
That Operations and Madeline were equally disgusted, frustrated and repelled by the situation, she had no doubt. Madeline had made that perfectly clear in her abbreviated briefing this morning. But the promised information was too vital, too tempting to resist.
And, in the end, it wasn’t their asses on the line, Nikita thought bitterly. It was hers.
And, of course, Michael’s.
As if her thoughts had conjured him up, Michael entered the room, silently striding in on bare feet. In the unforgiving glare of the fluorescent lights, his skin took on a pasty hue, the bruising acquired during his most recent mission highlighted in livid colors of purple and magenta on a translucent canvas.
He was naked as well; a fact that didn’t appear to trouble him at all as evidenced by his smooth and casual gait. Until she looked into his face and read his repressed fury in his carefully, too-controlled eyes and the tight line of his jaw.
The bed sagged slightly as he sat next to her. Her stomach roiled with increasing dread and acid hostility; once again they were expected to perform for an audience.
Michael’s hand slid across her shoulders, the calluses rough against her skin. She stiffened rebelliously, but his strength was inexorable. Gently but firmly he pulled her closer, closer until her head was drawn under his chin, his arms wrapped around her protectively.
“No, Michael,” she whispered. “Don’t make me do this.”
He hushed her with a finger to her lips. “Close your eyes, Nikita.” As she hesitated, he lifted her chin and kissed her gently. “Close your eyes,” he repeated. “There is no one and nothing else but us. Only us.”
His lips caught hers again: soft, warm and full of invitation and promise. Obediently, she closed her eyes and let herself slide into an eddy of pure physical sensation. He shifted her until she sat in his lap with her chest pressed to his; presenting only the curve of her spine to their watchers. For several minutes he proceeded no further, simply concentrating on her lips. With a long exhalation, she relaxed in his arms and opened her mouth to his probing tongue. Drawing her hair aside he delicately caught her earlobe with his teeth. Her breath hitched as he bit gently, then continued his downward progression. He was unshaven and the beard stubble scratched and burned against her tender flesh, setting off undulating waves of heat even as she struggled with the revulsion of being Bauer’s own up-close-and-personal sex show. Her hand rose and tangled in Michael’s hair, pulling him closer. Nothing else but us.
***
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