“Actually, I was wondering if there was any extra credit I could take? My grades haven’t been what I was expecting and my gpa is slipping.” Daniel sighed, nibbling her lips again. She saw his eyes dart to her mouth and then back to her eyes and that made her feel a little bit more confident.
“And uhm, it’s been uh… suggested… to me that you’re more amenable to various forms of extra credit than some of my other professors.”
Summary: Your buyer needs some information and you totally forgot about it. You meant to do the research you really did but now you need the info fast and dirty. Your buyer mentions that another party has gotten the information, so you decided to “borrow” the info. From a certain mustache spy who is not happy about it…
Lloyd Hansen would never live this down. He was considered to be the best. The best mercenary in the entire world. Everyone knew it. But as he limped down to his safe house, taking note of all the injuries, it was his ego that was the most damaged. His phone rang and he just picked up: “Hello?”
“You gotta problem walkin’ Hansen?”
He groaned, hearing your voice. “I got shot in the ass sweetheart. By you.”
“Well, how else was I supposed to escape,” you giggled.
“I’m gonna find you princess. No one beats Lloyd Hansen,” he growled.
“Looking forward to it sunshine.” You move to hang up but give one more quip. “Lovin the ‘stache Mr. Hansen. Tootles,” and you hang up.
Lloyd stares at the phone. “This brat is going to be the fucking end of me.”
You watch him from your hiding spot from the roof. He continues to walk into his building, and you smile. He was a typical man, and you exposed his weakness. They always fall for a pretty girl. You grinned and made your way through the Paris streets to your own safehouse. You connect with your buyer.
“I have the files. But it will cost you.”
“I’m already paying you $5 Million”
“And you neglected to mention that I would be going up against Lloyd Hansen. Would have never taken the job if I knew it was against him.”
“Are you saying you couldn’t do it?”
“Never said that. It was just a teensy bit more difficult than it should have been. So, the price has doubled. $10 Million by the end of the week or I burn these, and no one gets them.”
“That’s blackmail.”
“That’s business.” You shrug at no one and hang up. You go to the sideboard and pour yourself a scotch with ice, swirling it in your hand, your mind on Lloyd. Enemy or not, the man emanated a level of masculinity that could not be ignored. His ass looked amazing in those white pants, and you could feel his muscles under the jacket. Your thoughts drifted to how that moustache would feel between your thighs. You sighed and drained the glass, refilled and headed for the bath.
Lloyd had his assistant treat his wounds, most superficial, while he drank his own glass of scotch. Once his assistant left, he went to his computer and pulled his file on you. Your picture came up along with any known details. “gorgeous,” he mumbled as he stared at your picture. You were fairly new to the game but that didn’t stop his growing erection at your image.
You were a spitfire, that was for sure, able to go toe to toe with him. He knows he got one good hit in, but you were quick, flexible, strong. He groaned remembering how your leg came up over your head to kick him. He palmed his pants at the memories of your ponytail whipping around as you spun. He imagined what it would be like to hold said ponytail while your lips were wrapped around his cock, those beautiful eyes staring up at him.
“Oh, fuck this.” He unzipped his pants and pumped his rock-hard cock as he stared at your image. “I’m going to make you pay for this princess,” he whispered, gripping himself harder as he pumped faster, reaching his climax and spilling his load over his hand and stomach. “Shit.” He reached for some napkins on his desk and cleaned himself up. “Can’t wait to make you heed, princess,” he said to your image.
A couple of days later, you were walking to your favorite bistro, headphones in, looking as casual as possible in a knee length flower dress, jean jacket and hat. You sat down at an outdoor table, your bag on the floor as you ordered a coffee. A couple sat next to you as you read your book. And from the corner of your eye, you spot him. “Merde,” you mumble.
“You ok?” The man next to you ask. He and his lady looking concerned.
Plastering a smile and turning on your French accent, you turn to him. “It is fine. I just see an old acquaintance I was not expecting.”
“He harassing you?” The lady with the man asked.
“No so much as he is an ex lover wanting more,” you reply. “You are American, no?”
The red head blushed at your question. “Oh, yes, on our honeymoon.”
“Ah, toutes nos felicitations. Congratulations. Ah Monsieur,” you wave the waiter down, “deux coupes de champagne pour les jenues maries, s’il vous plait.” (Two glasses of champagne for the newlyweds, please)
“No you don’t have too…” the man starts.
“You are so nice to me. Mon Plaisir, my pleasure. Je m’appelle Marie.” You offer your hand so you can keep an eye on Hansen.
“Oh, Nick and Mason, nice to meet you.”
Your phone pings and you check it.
Unknown: Got you princess
“Desole, excusez-moi but I must go. Enjoy Paris.” You grab your bag casually as you head for the car on the curb. You head around the car and take off at a run, getting to the bridge before the car pulls away from the curb. You slow down as to not draw suspicion and pull a scarf around your hair, dumping the hat. Once you round the corner, you take out what you need from your bag, pull another bag from it and put your items and dump your bag. You take off your jacket and head to the subway.
Lloyd walked over to the car just as it pulled away, noting that back seat was empty. He glimpsed your hair on the bridge but loses you while in pursuit. “Dammit,” he growled. He pulled surveillance from the area. He scans the footage but see your bag on top of the trash. He gets ready to changes cameras but sees you looking at the camera directly and blowing a kiss. “Ballsy. I like it,” as he watches you board a train. He calls his surveillance team. “Get me the train routes.”
You jump trains at the next station, knowing you blew your cover but pick pocketing for a new scarf and some glasses. You make it back to a different neighborhood and start the long walk back to your safe house. You keep a sharp eye on the mostly deserted streets and find it eerie that it was quiet. You find a bar and slide into a booth in the back. “Une Biere, s’il vous plait.” (Beer, please)
“Mademoiselle,” the bartender said. You checked out the bar and then pulled your phone.
Unknown: Nice getaway sweetheart
YN: Thanks!
UK: I’m still gonna find you
YN: Well you have until Friday because that’s when I meet my buyer.
YN: Happy hunting Mr. Hansen
UK: Looking forward to it.
You smiled, forwarded what you needed and took apart the phone. You drained the beer in a few minutes, threw some bills down. You readjusted your look and headed back into the night. A few moments later, you heard a noise and ducked into an alley. You peeked around the corner, not seeing a thing. Until the click of a gun cocking back sounded and the cool metal pressed to your temple. You close your eyes as you hear, “You left it on too long, princess,” being breathed into your ear.
“So, the great Lloyd Hansen can get the drop on me,” you whisper as he yanks you back against the wall. You yelp as your head makes contact with the wall.
“Told you I’d find you sweetheart. Now, he got closer, why did you take my files?”
You shrug and smile. “I was busy and I forgot to do research. You had what I needed so I borrowed it.”
“Borrowed? Well, then you can give them back.”
“Don’t wanna,” you pout.
Lloyd’s eyes narrow slightly. “Knew you were a brat. Don’t make me hurt you. Give me back my files.”
“Not a chance, moustache man.” You smirk at him.
He growls and gets right next to your ear. “That was a mistake sweetheart. I’ll make you talk.”
“I’d love to see you try. Just remember, you can’t kill me. You need me.”
It was Lloyd’s turn to smirk. “You have no idea. And I just may have fun with that statement. Let’s go.” He gripped your arm and walked you to an SUV. “Get in.” At this point, you knew there wasn’t much of a choice, so in you went. He climbs in after you and headed back to a familiar part of the city.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To my safehouse. Need a place to break you princess,” as he leaned in against your neck, “where no one can hear you scream,” he whispered. The hairs of his moustache brushed the sensitive skin of your flesh, causing goosebumps to rise. “And I’ll make you scream like the little slutty brat that you are.” The car came to a stop, and he hauled you out. Now you were worried. Not so much for the pain. There was always pain. But for whatever else this psycho spy had in store for you.
Lloyd had to hand it to his team. When he ordered something, they jumped. High. The room was set with restraints, toys, whips, the works. He would get his little bratty spy to talk. He got you into the room and closed the door. He pulled a remote and locked the door. Well shit, you thought to yourself. You looked around to see an ensuite but no windows. “Well, this is cozy,” you tell him sarcastically.
“Yeah, that will depend on what you decided. Tell me where my files are, I let you go. Resist and well,” he waved his arm, “I have plenty of tools to make you talk. Or scream. Or moan. Whatever I decide I want to hear in the moment.”
“You understand that its considered assault right?” You raise an eyebrow at him.
“Oh sweetheart. I’ve seen the look in your eye. The lust that fills them and you know what?” He sat and pulled you in between his legs. “You can’t,” kissing your palm, “rape,” kissing the crook of your elbow before pulling down to sit on lap, face to face, “the willing,” as he places as searing kiss on your lips.
You moan at the sensation, his bottom lip so full. You think the moustache would get in the way but nope, it doesn’t. He’s got you right where he wants you but that is the furthest thing from your mind. He pushes you back against a wall, reaches for your hands and pins them above your head. You whimper at the touch of his groin against yours. As you had suspected, he is big and strong. He’s going to ruin you.
“You like that, princess?” He asks against your lips. You nod but it’s not enough for him. “Tell me where my files are and I’ll make you feel so good.”
“Your files are somewhere I won’t tell you. $10 Million is a great incentive to keep my mouth shut.” You move to straddle his legs, pressing your heat into his groin, listening to him groan. It’s a power move, trying to change the narrative. “Unless you can give me a million more to give them back.”
“Oh princess, I can give you a million and one that you’d be on my side,” he says against your lips. He presses a soft kiss on your lips and moves slowly. You sigh at the touch, relaxing involuntarily at the sensation until Lloyd grabs your hair and pull you back with a harsh tug. You cry out and he chuckles evilly. “I’m going to enjoy hearing all of your noises.”
“Lloyd,” you cry out.
“Oh yeah, I’m really going to enjoy it.” He pulls you in hard, placing a bruising kiss on your lips, forcing his tongue into you. “Mhmmm, baby you taste so sweet. Do you taste like that everywhere pretty girl?”
You nod and he stands, grasping your thighs and flipping you over onto your back. He hovers over you, his hand sliding up your thigh to feel your lacy covered ass. “Naughty girl,” he mumbled against your neck as he lets his long fingers feel around and press harsh kisses to your neck. His evil fingers moved to the front. “Already so wet,” he growled as he touched you through the lace.
You threw your head back at the sensation, hip jutting up. Lloyd took the opportunity to pull your panties over your hips. He pulls them off your legs and raises them to his nose. “Oh yeah, I can kill anyone but I’m going to enjoy killing this pussy.” He pushed you up the bed, kissing you the entire time. He grasps your wrist over your head. He holds them as he grinds into your heat, listening to the smalls moans and gasps that come out. He pulls away just to take in your lust filled eyes, big and shiny, lips swollen. “Oh kitten,” he purred, “you just have no idea.”
He placed another soul shattering kiss on your lips. You are lost, nibbling on his lip, listening to his growl as the pain went straight to his cock. “Keep your hands there, little savage.” He released your arms, but you didn’t move. The evil glint in his eyes makes you stay still but not paying attention. He removes his shirt, and you glimpse all the tattoos and you lick your lips. He climbs back on top of you, kissing you again and you miss him clasping the restraints around your wrist.
“What, the…”
“Oh, you thought I’d take it easy on you. No, princess, you lost that right when you refused to tell me where my goddamm fucking files are. Now, now I’m gonna get to play.”
“Wait, Hansen, please…”
“Not a chance Princess. You might want to think about the right answer when I ask again.” He pulled away your skirt and ripped open the top part of your dress. “Look at that. So fucking pretty.” He got in between your legs and spread them far apart. “Just a taste princess.” He laid his tongue flat against your folds and licked up. “Fuck yes!”
You shuddered at the sensation, trying not to release the moan that is threatening. He can see you fighting it and goes in again and again until you can’t take it and moan his name. “Lloyd,” you mewl.
“There she is. Oh no baby girl. I want to play with you.” He stood up and you watched him. You licked your lips at the tight jeans on his ass, the muscles rippling as he reached into a drawer. He kept whatever he got hidden until he was on top of you again. He kissed you hard, letting yourself taste yourself. “Taste good don’t you?” You nod and he laughs. “Such a fucking slut.”
“Lloyd, Lloyd please!”
“Nope.” He touches you again but this time, you feel the vibrations running up your center. You arch your back and moan. He ups the intensity every couple of minutes until he can see that you are ready to combust and he stops, much to your frustration.
“Lloyd!”
“Tell me where the files are.” He started again, and the build up goes faster. Your hips are moving, hoping to steal your orgasm from him. But he’s quick and pulls away. You scream in frustration. “Looks like I have to up the ante.” He flips you over and raises your hips in the air. He put the vibrator back in you on low and stands. He reaches for the riding crop on the side. He uses it to trace the curve of your ass. He raises the intensity of the toy, listening for the effect on you before bring the crop down. You suck in air at the pain but moan at how much more you are turned on by it.
“Please, please,” you beg, unsure of what you actually wanted.
“My little slutty brat. Enjoying this aren’t you?” He could see the level of lust blowing out your eyes. He gives one more smack with the crop before he switched to the flogger. He flips you again, taking in the slight sheen of sweat on your body. He releases the velvet strands of the flogger over your skin, watching you buck up at the sensation.
“Fuck! Please!”
“All you have to do is tell me where my files are.” Lloyd teased your clit, making you buck up. “Don’t you want it baby? Don’t you want that release?”
“Lloyd,” you cried, tears now streaming from your face.
“It could just be so simple. You tell me, I get you and I’ll keep you satisfied.” He took away the toy and shoved two fingers into your hold and pumped them in time with each word. “Just. Tell. Me. Where. My. Files. Are.”
Your brain is on fire, every nerve is ready to snap and break you. His rough movements that should be painful are not as he hits your spot over and over and over…
“They are in the safe!” you scream. “The safe in my best friend’s house!”
Lloyd stops, shoves his jeans and boxers down and shoves all of him in you while you scream. He pounds into you, fucking you like you have never been fucked before. He releases your binds, and your arms drop to his shoulders. You dig your nails in, drawing blood as your scratch his back. He lifts a leg over his shoulder, and he is deeper than anyone else has ever been before.
“C’mon baby, give it to me. Cum all over my big fat cock,” he grunts.
Now, you are lost, as your eyes roll into the back of your head and you cum so hard, all you see are stars.
“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he growls as he pumps. He pulls out harshly and flips you to your front and fraps your hips to put your ass in the air. “This ass,” as he smacks, “is mine.” He shoves his cock back in, delighting in your screams as he pounds into you. He grasps your hair to pull you close to him. “Look at my girl, taking me so well.” He reaches to tease your clit, prompting a second orgasm from you. “So pretty when you cum baby girl.” He doesn’t stop, just thrust harder and harder into you until he gets to his release. “Fuck YN!” he yells as he cums in you. He slows and stops, holding you up. He pulls out, rather gently for someone who has wrecked you. He lays down and brings you with him, your head on his chest. Both of you are trying to breathe again and he runs his fingers over your spine, while gently kissing your temple. “I would put this pussy on payroll if I could.”
You snorted. “You couldn’t afford me baby.”
“What if I paid you in cash and orgasms? I would worship the ground you walked on.” Lloyd rolled you over so he could cage you in. “I would make you the most feared woman in the world. Have men fall at your feet. Be my queen.” He kissed you, slow and long.
“You got the files. Why do you want to keep me?”
“Because if I keep the most feared woman by my side, happy and satisfied, it would make me the most powerful man in the world.” He started to kiss lower on your neck and then to your chest.
“Fuck those lips and tongue,” you moan. You can feel him smile at your words as he goes lower and lower.
**
Lloyd took you apart over and over, putting you back together to until the first rays of dawn. Lloyd woke with you on his chest and smiled. He never wanted a queen, but he could adjust. He went to get up and his arm wouldn’t move. He looked and the shackle was now around his wrist. “What the fuck!”
“Oh,” you replied sleepily. “Forgot I did that.” You climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. “Hmmm,” as you kiss him.
“Princess, what are you doing?”
You grind on him, and his body reacts, his cock now hard. You sink onto him as he groans. You rock your hips, and his head falls back. “Ah fuck!”
You continue to move as he moaned. You lean over him, still moving your hips. “I’m taking what’s mine Hansen.” You fuck him hard until you release and then pull away from him.
“The fuck do you think you are doing?” He roars.
“Becoming queen, like you asked,” you reply innocently. You wave the remote to the door as you shrug on his shirt. Its like a dress on you. You grab his belt and make an outfit. You smooth your hair. “I’m going to sell your files and keep you right where I want you.”
“You bitch!” He thrashed on the bed.
“Be a good boy Lloyd, baby. And I’ll come back and make you feel all better,” you smirk. You sashay your hips as you unlock the door and leave him in the room. Before you close the door, you blow him a kiss.
Twenty-three. Twenty-three years of age in less than 15 minutes, and Enjolras was awake in a hospital bed. It takes conviction to knowingly put oneself in harm's way. It takes compassion to be willing to fight for your neighbour, faith to believe the blows are worth it, and hope to do it again and again and again. Enjolras had lost none of the three.
And yet, 14 minutes before midnight, with four cracked ribs and one disjointed shoulder, he felt he might be missing something still. Some crucial piece of information, beyond the purely technical, that would surely make all the difference.
13 minutes to his birthday and Enjolras found himself wishing desperately for a guide through what he knew and what he did not yet, a map of the frontier between ends and means.
12 minutes shy of twenty-three and he felt unbearably young - for all his experience, his work in the past eight years, he was still away from whatever golden revelation that would carry him over to the other side of trying.
11 minutes to the new day, and for the first time maybe he was not ready. He almost felt centennial, surpassed by the quick flashes of political wars layered to infinity. If only he could for a second borrow the eyes of History, and with them look at the faces behind the masks, see the path from a bird-eye view, then everything would be simpler.
10 minutes before his birthday and Enjolras was considering calling Combeferre. Only, he was getting some well deserved rest, the first in a long time, and that deep unsettling something at the bottom of his chest was not enough to persuade Enjolras to disturb him.
In the next bed over, Grantaire was snoring softly, in a way that was strangely comforting. His arms and chest were covered in bruises, his forehead bandaged. But the heavy breathing, the scratching of air in his throat, were reassuring and almost endearing signs of life.
Perhaps he felt Enjolras eyes on him, because Grantaire stirred, rolled over, and slowly fluttered his eyelids.
'Panoptes, do you mistake me for Zeus' best lived heifer?'
'What?'
Grantaire rubbed his eyes before wincing at the pain of moving.
'Nothing, sorry. I say weird crap when I' m sleepy. What are you doing? Couldn't sleep?'
'No. I guess I was just thinking'
'What about?'
'The future. How to do things in the future.'
'Do you mean activism?'
'That too.'
Grantaire had a strange expression on his face. None too pleased but also unusually serious, unusually serene. As though he too had taken some momentous step three days ago, under the batons and the pepper spray. But where Enjolras had stepped on fresh mud - slippery, uncertain, but hopefully fertile (and there was always hope) -, Grantaire seemed to have set foot on dry land for the first time after too long.
'You will figure it out', he said.
'You think so?'
'I believe it.'
It felt bigger and more important than Enjolras was expecting, whatever this was. There was still so much work to do. But something, something different but not unrelated to the good he was going to bring to the world, clicked in that moment, and it didn't seem so terrible to be just six minutes away from twenty-three. He would have said something, in gratitude or at least acknowledgement, but thought it wiser to just smile and nod in silence.
Grantaire seemed happy nonetheless.
'It' s almost your birthday!'
'I know'
'Are you excited?'
'I am planning'
Grantaire's laughter at this was probably less bitter than it would have been before, and Enjolras found it pleasant.
'Do you want me to sing happy birthday to you?'
'Please don't.'
'You' re no fun. Well, we have to celebrate in some way! I didn't even get you a gift!'
'I don' t need a gift'
'I can steal you some serious drugs, this place must be packed with good stuff...'
'I will take a handshake, if that' s all right.'
'A birthday handshake?'
Enjolras smiled softly and nodded.
It was a testimony to Grantaire's politeness, or friendship, or commitment to Enjolras' birthday wishes (or all three, Enjolras wasn'r really sure), that he did not mock Enjolras for this. Instead he extended his hand slowly, and brushed Enjolras fingers.
Enjolras took Grantaire's hand in his. It was tender and long and warm, and not really a handshake. It didn't really matter, because Enjolras was twenty-three now, and he had a plan. Same story, same goal. But a new chapter.
Loved the new chapter of Love, Eternal. So good. I’ve never been a big fan of Clyde Logan fics, but this is dark and creepy yet exciting and I love it. Cannot wait for more!
Thank you, my dear anon!
Be assured I'll keep the creepiness ramped up! But it will be sweet and hot too 😇
