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Date Posted: 15:49:41 05/03/02 Fri
Author: Repost Fairy
Author Host/IP: 64.193.19.25
Subject: Part 46 - At long last that 'talk' - NC17!
In reply to: Lila 's message, "The Beginning - Part 33 and Up" on 15:11:24 05/03/02 Fri

Part 46 – NC17!!

Nikita wore a big frown, eyes downcast. “What’s wrong, dear,” Adrian asked. Big, round, sad blue eyes looked up at the matronly woman. Nikita just shook her head. “It’s all right, you can tell me anything. You should know that by now.” Adrian reached for the small girl and pulled her into her lap. She waited for the child to become comfortable.

A small voice drifted up, “I don’t think my mommy loves me anymore,” she said.

Adrian hugged Nikita. “Yes she does, little Nikita. She’s just… lonely, that’s all.”

Nikita looked up at Adrian, “But she has me!” she said, not understanding adult longing.

Adrian wanted to kill all the men who had hurt Roberta, “I know dear. Your mother misses…”

“Boys?” Nikita ventured.

Adrian laughed. “Exactly,” she said. “Boys.” She slipped Nikita from her lap, placing the child beside her on the couch. “Let’s say you and I go on a scavenger hunt.”

“A lavender hunt?” she asked, “What’s that?”

“Not lavender, scavenger.” Adrian stood, “Let’s go find us some snakes.”

Nikita’s eyes widened, “Don’t they bite?” she asked, a little scared.

Adrian’s eyes twinkled, “Not if you know how to handle them,” she said. She looked out the window, noting the sun was setting. “Now’s the perfect time.” She looked down at the little girl, “You want to?”

Nikita nodded her head, vigorously. “Ok!”

************

Michael smiled the image of his beautiful Nikita, a small, wondrous child, not unlike who she was now. “Did you find any?” he asked.

Nikita grinned and said, “Lots! And Adrian, she knew all of them. Which ones not to touch, and the ones that she said were good. Whatever that means,” she added.

Walter hated to interrupt this memory, one of the few good ones that had surfaced, but he noted it was well past midnight, and… well, there wasn’t much time. “Three months later,” Walter said, “they were back. And nothing was the same.”

************

Roberta was half-asleep on the couch when she heard the sound of an engine. She stumbled off the couch and wandered to the front door, disbelieving her eyes. At last! Her love had returned. “Paul!” she shouted, running towards the jeep, “You’re alive!”

Paul, Philippe, and Gerard emptied from the jeep, Paul walking by her, ignoring her. “Paul!” she said, throwing herself onto his body, trying to hug him, “I’ve missed you,” she said. Wolfe kept walking, knocking her to the ground as he continued. She remained on the ground, sitting, disbelieving.

“Walter, Adrian,” Paul shouted as he entered the house. “Get your weapons, we’ve got a location at a village nearby. He’s hiding there. We’ve got him.”

************

Walter stood, struggling with verbalizing what happened next. “I need a drink,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” He left the room, and exited down the stairs which led to the kitchen.

“Ni-ki-ta,” Michael said, “Can you tell me what happened?”

She shook her head, closing her eyes, “I’m afraid,” she said.

Michael placed a hand on the back of her neck, and gently massaged her tightened muscles. “Don’t be,” he said.

Nikita exhaled. “When I saw Walter pointing the gun at you, something in my head… like a switch.” She stopped, thinking how she thought she heard a snap in her head when she saw Walter holding a gun on Michael.

“Describe,” Michael said, trying to understand if what she had experienced was conditioning, the drugs, or both.

“I was scared,” she said, turning her head to him. “You were in so much pain, your heart…” she raised her hand, pressing her palm to his chest. “I wanted to reach out to you, hold you, love you,” she exhaled again, “And then… there was a burst in my head. Of energy. Like suddenly part of my brain just exploded.” She dropped her hand from his chest, hanging her head, “Michael, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he said, encouraging her, “Please, I need to know… so I can help… you.” He lifted her head, hand under her chin, his eyes meeting hers. He held his smoky dark eyes steady, transmitting strength to her, “Please,” he said.

She nodded. “I wanted to kill him,” she said. “I could hear Marco’s voice shouting in my ear to pull the trigger. It felt like if I didn’t, I would die.” She began to cry, and buried her head in Michael’s chest. “I still feel it,” she cried, “he’s still there, whispering in my ear.” Michael held her tight. “Please,” she cried, “what’s wrong with me? Why won’t it stop?” She raised her head, “Why?”

Michael kissed her, powerfully, hoping to erase the memory of O’Brien. She leaned into him, returning his kiss with equal intensity, her full lips engulfing his. Michael’s hands ran along her back, the pads of his fingers inflaming her. She moaned in appreciation, her teeth tugging his lower lip. She pulled her head back after a moment, her heart beating loudly in her ears, Michael feeling it against his chest, “I’m so afraid,” she said, “that you… you don’t want me.”

Almost before her last word was uttered, she felt his mouth crushing against hers, his passion for her communicated through the simple and complicated act of a kiss. Without releasing her, he whispered, lips on hers, “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you.”

She returned his kiss with equal fervor, forgetting her fears, her abuse, her pain. Her hands reached behind Michael’s head, fingers scraping his scalp, pulling his hair. “Now,” she whispered, “please.” She released his head, and grabbed his hand, pulling him to a stand. Her eyes sparkling with desire, she walked backwards, holding his hand tightly, leading him to her, their room.

He allowed himself to be led, hunger for her in his eyes. “Walter?” he managed to ask. She shook her head. As she backed into the room, and they crossed the threshold, he kicked the door behind him closed with his heel, a loud slam echoing through the house. Walter would not disturb them.

Nikita stopped walking as she reached the bed. She pulled Michael’s arm hard, bringing him quickly to her body, her mouth open, waiting to capture his. He complied, rewarding her with rough kisses of his own. He wanted to restrain himself, wanting to move slowly, but his body throbbed, desire replacing any semblance of logic. But warnings, minute warnings in his head… something Walter said? Did?

Their kiss energized her, thrilled her, and she stepped backwards, pulling him with her, falling together on the bed. He buried his tongue into her mouth, his hard body flattening her. She wrapped her legs around him, steamy moisture soaking through her jeans, his erection agonizing her through their clothes.

Nikita raked her fingers along his back and she felt him wince. She pushed him up from her, “Are you ok?” she asked, as she removed his shirt. She ran her fingers along his naked back, and felt jagged edges of skin, his muscles twitching in response to her touch. She slid out from underneath him, turned and examined his back. It was raw with scratches, covered with tiny rivulets of blood.

“You’re hurt,” she said, about to stand.

His hand snaked out from underneath him and grabbed her arm, yanking her back to the bed. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. Nikita lay on her back, and Michael quickly covered her body again with his own. He ravaged her mouth passionately, not caring about the aches in his back, her fingers tormenting the abrasions. The pain reminding him of his choice to live, the nagging voice about Walter disappearing.

He slid an arm beneath her, sat them up, and easily removed Nikita’s tank top. He plundered her nipples with his tongue, as her fingers tugged on his hair. He sunk his teeth into her breast, a moan escaping from her mouth, the coarse stubble on his chin electrifying her skin. She pulled his hair, hard, moving his face back to hers. Her eyes pleaded with him.

Michael got up from the bed, pulling her to her feet. He swiftly unbuttoned her jeans, slid them off her hips, underwear breaking free, and repeated the motion quickly with his own clothes. They stood, bodies barely touching, her nipple just reaching his chest, his erection touching her hip. She brought her hands up to his chest, the barest edge of her fingertips drifting over his skin. His breath coming in heaves, eyes smoldering, mouth slightly open. “I love you,” he said, “Let me take you.” She nodded, lifting his hand to her mouth, licking his palm.

Abruptly, Michael spun her, his chest pressing in to her back, his hands coming around her body, holding her breasts. He kissed the back of her neck, moving them back to the bed, his knee bending into the back of her leg. Her legs responded in kind, and she fell forward, face down on the bed.

“Oh God,” she said, her head on its side, cheek pressing into the mattress, awareness of his plans rapturing her body. Her voice was fearful, excited.

Nikita felt Michael lay his body on top of hers, his hardened penis pressing into the space between the cheeks of her bottom. His breath blew on her neck, his body lying still. “Is this ok?” he asked.

She responded by moving her arms to her side, bending them, hands flat on the bed. She dragged herself forward, carrying the full weight of him, struggling to shift herself forward. He shifted back onto his heels, sitting behind her as she moved her weight to her knees and her elbows.

Michael leaned forward, placing his hands on her hips, and ran his tongue across her lower back. She pushed herself backwards, trying to communicate her need for him to enter her, not wanting to speak. His right hand moved from her hip and he flattened his hand between her legs. His palm tenderly massaged the tangles of hair, while his fingers dipped inside, her abundant moisture accommodating them. She couldn’t hold steady, and rocked her hips slowly, his fingers increasing pressure inside her body, outside, spreading her open, igniting her.

“Michael,” she whispered, “It’s never been like this with anyone.”

Nikita gasped, suddenly, as he exchanged his fingers for his erection, entering her forcefully, rapidly, completely. His mouth on her ear he replied, “For me… too.” He bit her earlobe, and sat back up, needing to grab her hips, wanting to drive himself into her so completely, if he could, he would split her in two.

She couldn’t feel him inside her any longer. He had disappeared into her, the only feeling she had was liquid, she was liquid, her vaginal lips wide open, thick with her powerful arousal, so large, the fluids of their bodies dripping down her thighs, her pulse spreading everywhere between her legs. This couldn’t be real. She rocked herself forward and back, meeting his rough strokes with equal force, wanting him to impale her, wanting his body to transcend her from all of her pain.

Nikita felt the tautness of Michael’s stomach every time he refilled her with his body, slamming into her cheeks, his fingers digging deeply into her hips. She heard his moans releasing with each thrust; she wanted nothing more than to make them louder. She murmured his name, over and over, never having felt so alive.

Michael pulled himself completely out of her, then drove himself back in with tremendous force. He repeated this several times, Nikita burying her face in the pillow, screaming. His pelvis quickened its strokes, continuing his journeys in and out of her, his hand drifting to her pulsing clitoris. She cried from the intensity of the feeling his probing fingers provoked, grabbing his hand with her own, encouraging him, tangling her fingers with his, appreciating the slickness of her own body.

Her muffled screams overwhelmed Michael. With his hand in hers, he assaulted the wide channel above where his penis disappeared inside her. He felt her small hardness in his fingertips, his own erection only growing with the thought of her climaxing around him and in his hand. “Ni-ki-ta,” he growled, his hand moving, scratching at her clitoris, his penis penetrating her, rapaciously, aggressively, wantonly, inside her, outside her, then inside her, hard, pounding, fingernails digging at her clitoris, again, still, burning, stirring her, loving her.

Nikita screamed. The burst so intense, so powerful, the scream left her lips before she could stop it. She heard him groan loudly, saying her name, holding on to her, collapsing on top of her. “I love you,” he whispered.

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Replies:

  • Part 47 - Language -- Repost Fairy, 15:52:56 05/03/02 Fri
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