Work Text:
Droplets hit her forehead, disturbing her rest and evoking a frown. She shifted, strands of fire-orange hair escaping from the bun and touching the milky fluid, disturbing the clouds of bubbles. The chill she encountered upon awakening made her click her tongue. She sat up and rubbed the goosebumps from her arms.
When had she fallen asleep?
She rolled her shoulders, fighting the stiffness. Then stood, plucked the bath plug and stepped out while the water flowed down the drain. She hissed when her moist feet found the cold floor, determining a renovation was in order. The towel she wrapped around her figure doing little to fight off the temperature.
The opening door invited in a huff and, with it, the scent of air freshener and forest, the latter had her lifting an eyebrow and glancing towards the open bedroom door.
Not how she had left it.
A shadow approached. Narrowing her eyes, the handler extended her hand to the bedside table drawer—halting when she spotted his face.
“Oh,” she voiced, then her brow furrowed and she turned to the clock on the wall. “I didn’t expect you until this evening.”
“I was offered an earlier flight,” he said, lifting a tray. Steam floated from a teacup at the center of it.
“How has it gone?” She walked to him, the edge of her mouth curling as she captured the warm porcelain in her hand. “Thank you.”
“Successful,” he said, “the body should be found within a couple of days. An unfortunate fall from the balcony. A fall from grace, one could say.”
She scoffed before sipping, smile widening and eyes lifting to meet him. He could poison her, it wouldn’t present as an accident, but she was certain he could stage one if he wanted to. He would disappear into the world, start fresher than ever if he played his cards right. “A shame I couldn’t join you,” she said.
“You look tense,” he observed, setting the tray on the bedside table and circling her. “Is there anything I can do?”
His voice, coming from behind her, sent a tremor through her. Her throat bobbed as a familiar warmth clawed up her front.
His digits brushed her shoulders, which eased and inched to him, her body declaring its side without regard for her thoughts or scruples.
“Why not?” The towel dropped, quicker than the edge on her voice disappeared, the remnants of her control slipping from her.
His hands reached for her neck. One movement and he could snap it. His thumbs pressed over the delicate bones, releasing knots.
She pressed her thighs together, sensing her nipples harden. The lowering temperature no longer a concern in her mind.
“You should lay down,” he said.
His tone hadn’t wavered, yet her teeth dug on her bottom lip at the suggestion. “Of course.”
Each step taken added a day in her sentence. Still, she laid on the bed, sensing as if her form sank into the mattress, drowning in guilt and desire.
He knelt behind her, knees on either side of her legs. The legs she lifted a tad open.
Which mission had taught him this particular skill?
He kneaded circular motions on her back, producing sighs out of her. His touch released the tension from her body, massaging her lies and the schemes of the day away. Her mask could be removed in his presence, he had proved observant to her needs and secrets. He wouldn’t press for answers.
Sharing a house had made her tense the first days. It was the two of them alone these days. He was respectful, waiting for her to invite him nearer. He hadn’t questioned when she said they could share the bed, and she saw the glimmer in his eyes when she said he was welcome anytime he liked, even if he had his own bedroom.
She cracked after days. He would often apologize if they woke up and he was touching her or holding her, it didn’t matter he had done so in his sleep. When she woke to him holding her from behind with an erection pressed against her behind and his scent wrapped around her tighter than him, her clouded thoughts immediate response was to pull his pants out of the way so he could screw her awake. He had always been obedient.
To have him pressing his thumbs on the muscles right above her buttocks months after their first tryst proved tame in comparison. Still, her boiling blood warded off the chill and her core pulsated in response. Diana saw past the patient façade, even if she savored the act. They had been separated after experimenting the familiarity of sharing a bed and a blossoming sexual relationship. It revealed his kneading hands second intentions. Hers went beyond thirds and fourths; if she could keep him busy until morning, she would.
Her throat vibrated with a groan when he inched lower, the spreading of her thighs deliberate. His motions stilled and she heard him swallow. His fingers strayed, its back caressed her buttock and slipped to her core. She elicited longer moans when he separated her folds and explored her warmth.
“Diana,…” there was an edge to his voice.
“Hm?” She teased, yet lifted her hips a fraction towards his hand.
One tentative digit. It bid its time entering, and she could sense his attention on the back of her neck.
“May I…?” his voice quiet. She didn’t need the contact to know his cock strained against his trousers, she wanted it.
Screw me swollen and sore? Absolutely.
“Yes,” she basked on the unexpected firmness of her words.
He inserted a second finger, pumping it in and out of her, still observing her in a manner that had grown familiar. Her agent watched her as one watches lions and tigers, with cautious awe and hints of adoration. He watched her as if he had yet to grow accustomed to the notion that she desired him.
Once, he had gone from careful, surprised lamb to ravenous lion when she allowed him to eat her out on the mansion kitchen island. He was left marked by her claws and would earn numerous more after he carried her to the bedroom.
Despite the hesitation, there was no denying his hunger for her. It showed in his eyes and submerged her in a combination of relief, guilt, arousal and confusion. There were questions she couldn’t ask him, they would endanger them both. She whispered them in his ear while he slept, before wrapping around him, kissing his face, and hiding her tears and face in the crook of his neck.
“Take me, Agent,” she said, stronger than before. “As if you hate me.”
He froze and she begged a god she didn’t believe in to keep him from asking questions.
“Diana,” he began and she cursed in her mind, then heard him unbuckling his belt. Her hands curled around the sheets in response. “Are you sure?” He dared to touch his cock head to her entrance, teasing her as he coated himself on her juices.
“Please,” she despised the crack on her voice.
He impaled her in one thrust and she released a ‘fuck’ through her teeth. His hand touched the side of her hip, the other grabbed her hair in a ponytail and forced her back until she arched off the bed and he had his lips by her ear. He nipped at her flesh, stronger than usual, certain to leave a mark.
He took one second of pause. It stretched between them as she considered her crimes and her body ached, and there were sure to be questions in his mind.
When it passed, he slid almost out of her, keeping only his head in. She hissed a moan when he thrust back in.
Her agent pounded into her, allowing no time to adjust, wrecking her thoughts. Ego and vanity had been an aspect in his creation, she could attest to it, it showed on the size of him. A moment between average and uncomfortable. Enough for her to always be very aware of his movement and how she would be sore in the aftermath.
She risked being hoarse later, still he wouldn’t stop and brushed the precise spot inside her with his motions. He could come inside her and snap her neck a second later, before she even came. He could impregnate her and she wouldn’t protest. He could choke her to death while fucking her into the mattress.
Her cellphone buzzed on her bedside table.
Diana cursed under her breath when he paused, wished death upon her caller when her companion slipped out of her. She touched her forehead to her pillow and almost missed it when her agent handed her the phone.
Arthur Edwards on the screen.
She rolled her eyes and took the item. Blinking when she was spun on the bed and 47 knelt between her thighs. He took one at the time and guided her legs to his shoulders, then positioned her hips, and aligned his length to her cunt.
“Enemies don’t care if work is calling,” he said, words sending a tremor through her and heat to her core. He plunged back inside.
“Yes?” She prompted at the phone, breath faltering.
“Miss Burnwood,” the smile in his voice disgusted her. She fixed her eyes on her lover’s, whose rhythm had slowed but the fire in his gaze promised war. She gulped. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
47’s hand caressed her breast, he pinched her nipple, making her face flush. His slow, sensual movements encouraging her to damn Edwards back to the circle of Hell he had escaped.
“How may I help?” She asked.
Arthur clicked his tongue. “I confess I’m disappointed, Miss Burnwood. I would have thought, given your reputation, you would have put my gift to good use,” he said. “He can be such a good boy in his ‘pure’ state.”
The thrusting came at the right moment, the storming ministrations leaving little space in her head for rational thought.
“And I saw how he looked at you when he first saw you, I almost believed he had regained his memory, remembered you like some manner of goddess that wielded him like the weapon he is, his precious master,” Edwards continued. “I wonder if he would have killed you, or would have waited until you took him home.”
“You wouldn’t be breathing long enough to know,” she said, hand reaching for her agent’s cheek and caressing it.
“No,” Arthur conceded, “but imagination would suffice. I’m afraid you were correct, you were his one weakness. I wonder if he would end you quickly or take his time. What do you think he would do if he woke up after all this time? You’re sure to have played with him. Did you take him? He can’t resent you for your betrayal, you can have him wrapped around your finger like before, you can be the sun of his existence. Do you think he loves you?”
She brought his hand to her neck, squeezed it around her windpipe. “No,” she answered, watching her partner’s widened eyes, then nodding. “Is this why you called, Mr. Edwards?” She would have 47 screw her to exhaustion, she was determined to.
Arthur scoffed at the other end of the line. “Very well, to business then.”
Diana gave little regard to any gasps that might have escaped her, focusing on the high and heat of the taking. She heard the slapping of their skin, Edwards snickering something about her lying and saying he’d sent a written version of a document to her, but he kept on talking, and her agent kept on rearranging her internal organs. She wet her lips when heat made him cast his shirt off and reveal his muscular chest. She became a mess of choked chants of ‘yes’ when he fought his pants off, craving more contact with her skin. He played with her clit and never stopped pounding, not even as she came the first time.
She needed to be sore, needed to be leaking his come, needed to be unable to walk, to be degraded, to be marked. He should take it out on her body, the crimes he couldn’t remember she committed, the horrors she had imposed on him in this state.
Her plan had failed, he had been erased again, then gifted to her by Edwards. She failed to find a serum, failed to resist her attraction to him, failed to protect him. She couldn’t deny his adoring eyes that knew only her and her kindness.
For all he knew, this was what he was meant to be: hers to use as she saw fit. That she was kind to him and allowed him to adore her and her body back was a blessing. If he believed he could love, he knew he would love her. His friend had been the greatest giving him to her, and he almost felt guilty for having him listen in in such an intimate moment between them.
47 fought to keep his weight off her after he came. He kissed her cheek and caressed her neck, soothing the marks it was sure to have after their rough play. He processed his softening length inside her and how she was filled with his seed. He’d clean her later, of course, but settled on allowing her to relax against him for the time being.
Her phone showed a black screen as it lay beside her, Arthur had hung up. Her partner hugged her from behind, and she glanced over her shoulder to kiss him. She would pay for this, for using him, for failing him. She’d help him remember, then let him decide what to do with her.
In the meanwhile, she pushed his back to the mattress and straddled him, leaned in to take his mouth.
Just let me have you a little longer.