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Crosshairs
Book Three of the Eighth Circle (final part)
A few months ago, Cross would have imagined securing the role as Chairman of the Eighth Circle to be beyond his wildest dreams. But by some unsort twist of fate, he now finds himself sitting on that very throne.
However, success comes at a price and he is finding his seat at the head of the table is far from secure and his dreams rapidly turning into nightmares.
In his desire to keep Verity safe and away from the danger associated with his new position, Cross is prepared to sacrifice his heart and does everything in his power to force her to leave him. But the bonds between them are proving to be stronger than his resolve, if not his fear.
Refusing to settle for a quiet life, Verity is more than willing to throw herself back into the murky, criminal underworld of the Eighth Circle, if only to prove Cross wrong and make him pay for doubting her.
Together they might make a formidable team, but only if they are prepared to call a truce and admit their feelings for each other. Can they navigate the dangerous game of politics, constantly in play behind the scenes at the Eighth Circle?
In a world where lies are currency and every dice is loaded, they will need to pool their resources and stack the deck if they hope to win.
Summary: Tom takes you home and continues to dominate.
Warnings: smut, sex, masturbation, D/s dynamics
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After fucking you on the side of the road, Tom had been silent in the car. Which only made you more nervous. As his Jaguar roared into the garage, your thighs clenched anticipating what was to come.
Tom shut off the car and turned to face you. “I expect you to go to the bed and be naked on the bed by the time I get upstairs. On your back. Legs open.” Tom’s voice offered no room to argument.
You shuffled up the stairs, kicking off your heels along the way. Your dress stuck to you as Tom’s cum had dried on your ass from earlier. You dropped it onto the floor of the bedroom followed by your bra. Your panties still in Tom’s pocket.
Your head hit the soft pile of pillows, and you sighed. Instinctually your legs fell open, waiting for Tom. The door opened and your breath hitched. Tom had lost the tie and jacket on his way up.
“Good girl.” Tom praised, knowing it would make you crazy. He removed his shirt slowly, taking the care to fold it.
“While I undress, I want you to play with your cunt. Entertain me.” His tone cold.
Your hand moved between your legs, your clit aching for attention. As he undid his belt, Tom clicked his tongue.
“You can do better. Finger yourself.”
You moaned as you slipped a finger inside you. Tom smirked. His cock jumped at the sight. You were so compliant. He definitely planned on keeping you around.
“I love how hard you work to please me. Do you like pleasing me?”
“Yes.” you hissed.
Tom kneeled on the bed. “I think you have earned an orgasm. Would like one?” he taunted.
“Please, sir.” you continued to finger yourself, afraid he would change his mind.
“Remove your fingers.”
You pulled out and Tom pushed in. You were sore from earlier but the burn hurt so good.
“You are still so tight for me. Even after earlier. You are special.” Tom purred. His mouth sucking on your neck. “Your pussy is exquisite. I’m already close.” His hips rolling and bucking into you.
Tom’s thumb pressed and rubbed along your clit and you clenched around him. His head fell forward as his motions slowed, orgasming inside you. Tom pulled out of you and went to the bathroom returning with a warm wet washcloth for you to clean yourself up. You curled on your side and he pulled you closed.
“I give you my full permission to fuck me awake in the morning.” Tom whispered into your ear. The last words before you fell asleep.
After fucking you on the side of the road, Tom had been silent in the car. Which only made you more nervous. As his Jaguar roared into the garage, your thighs clenched anticipating what was to come.
Tom shut off the car and turned to face you. “I expect you to go to the bed and be naked on the bed by the time I get upstairs. On your back. Legs open.” Tom’s voice offered no room to argument.
You shuffled up the stairs, kicking off your heels along the way. Your dress stuck to you as Tom’s cum had dried on your ass from earlier. You dropped it onto the floor of the bedroom followed by your bra. Your panties still in Tom’s pocket.
Your head hit the soft pile of pillows, and you sighed. Instinctually your legs fell open, waiting for Tom. The door opened and your breath hitched. Tom had lost the tie and jacket on his way up.
“Good girl.” Tom praised, knowing it would make you crazy. He removed his shirt slowly, taking the care to fold it.
“While I undress, I want you to play with your cunt. Entertain me.” His tone cold.
Your hand moved between your legs, your clit aching for attention. As he undid his belt, Tom clicked his tongue.
“You can do better. Finger yourself.”
You moaned as you slipped a finger inside you. Tom smirked. His cock jumped at the sight. You were so compliant. He definitely planned on keeping you around.
“I love how hard you work to please me. Do you like pleasing me?”
“Yes.” you hissed.
Tom kneeled on the bed. “I think you have earned an orgasm. Would like one?” he taunted.
“Please, sir.” you continued to finger yourself, afraid he would change his mind.
“Remove your fingers.”
You pulled out and Tom pushed in. You were sore from earlier but the burn hurt so good.
“You are still so tight for me. Even after earlier. You are special.” Tom purred. His mouth sucking on your neck. “Your pussy is exquisite. I’m already close.” His hips rolling and bucking into you.
Tom’s thumb pressed and rubbed along your clit and you clenched around him. His head fell forward as his motions slowed, orgasming inside you. Tom pulled out of you and went to the bathroom returning with a warm wet washcloth for you to clean yourself up. You curled on your side and he pulled you closed.
“I give you my full permission to fuck me awake in the morning.” Tom whispered into your ear. The last words before you fell asleep.
On The Side of The Road | Tom Hiddleston (Jaguar!Tom) x Reader
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston (Jaguar!Tom) x Reader
Summary: Tom needs a release.
Warnings: Public Sex, Dom/sub, Sex on a Car, Restraints, Smut, Spanking, Come Marking, Comeplay, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex
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“Get out.” Tom commanded as the Jaguar jerked to a stop on the side of the deserted road.
“What?” You furrowed your brow, squirming in your seat.
Tom unbuckled his seat and exited the car. He walked around the front and you spied the bulge in his suit pants. Your door whipped open and Tom snapped off your buckle, jerking you out of the car by your elbow.
“I said, Get. Out.” he growled in your ear.
You stumbled as you worked to gain footing on the uneven shoulder of the road. Tom pulled you roughly around to the back of the car.
“Hands on the trunk.”
You smirked. “Are you going to pat me down?”
Tom didn’t wait for you to do as he asked, losing patience. He spun you, knocking you off balance and pressed your torso against the metal of the car’s trunk.
“Since you can’t seem to go where I tell you to, I am going to have to keep you in place.” You overheard the sound of fabric against fabric. Soon the smooth silk of Tom’s tie wrapped around your wrist. You struggled, but the knot held tight.
Tom’s hands gripped your ass as he shimmied your skirt up around your hips. He clicked his tongue.
“What have I said about panties?” He stared down at the lacy black thong you were wearing?”
Your voice trembled. “No panties.” Your head dropped and your forehead rested against the car.
“Allow me to help.” His hands slid up your legs, cupping your ass. You shivered against his touch. He pulled the scrap of fabric down; you lifted your feet to help take them off, and he placed them in his suit jacket pocket.
“Open your legs.”
Tom pressed against you. His hardened cock ached against your backside. You shuffled your feet as best you could in your state as Tom undid his belt and push his pants down but not off. Without warning, Tom pushed into you, taking the wind from your lungs.
“Fuck!” you breathed out. That earned your rear a hard slap on Tom’s hand as he thrusted back into you.
“Watch your mouth or I will put it to better use.”
You bit your lower lip to suppress any further outbursts as Tom grabbed ahold of your hands for leverage. His pace was brutal and soon that all familiar sensation tightened in your core. You moaned.
“I’m close.” your voice raspy.
Tom’s breath pricked at your ear. “Do you wish to cum, darling?”
“Yes, please, Sir. Please let me cum!” you begged as Tom continued to ravage your body.
“Since you asked so nicely.” Tom tilted your hips back, allow him to press his thumb against your clit. The new angle also positioned his cock to thrust against your G-spot.
“YES!” you screamed as you saw stars and the whole scene went white. Tom pulled out of you to cum on your backside in heavy spurts. He pulled your dress down over the mess, undid the tie and patted your bottom.
“Back in the car.”
“My panties.” You held out your hand. Tom’s low chuckle rattled in his chest.
“Oh I’m not done with you.” Your eyes widened. “I think you know what I am talking about.” His lips curled into a smile.
Warnings: Vertigo / Sub drop / Armed bastards / Gunfire
Length: 2.5k
Summary: In which Cross and Verity run, jump and climb for their lives.
Chapter List
Full Master List of all works
The door at the bottom of the stairwell creaked open and Verity flinched back, her eyes wide with alarm as she mentally worked out how long it would take armed bastards to make up the seven flights of stairs. Apparently, Cross didn’t even bother with the calculation, silently closing the door and hustling her back along the corridor to their flat.
Once they were both safely inside, he turned the lock and slid the bolt into place.
Verity flapped her hands. “That’s not going to stop them! And now we’re trapped in here!”
Cross shrugged. As an answer, it was not reassuring, but before she could voice her next question, he nodded to the window.
“No time to pack, leave the rest. We’re taking the fire escape.”
For once, not even tempted to argue with him, Verity grabbed her mostly packed duffle and heaved the window open. She never unpacked the important things and since Cross held the stash of passports and credit cards, everything else could be replaced..
Shouldering her bag she scampered across to the ladder, leaning into it with her full body weight in an attempt to pull it down. Unoiled runners groaned but refused to yield.
“It won’t move,” she said, waving to Cross to help but he shook his head.
“Doesn’t matter. We need to go up not down,” he said, jerking his chin towards the roof.
Verity stared at him in confusion, her thoughts still unnaturally slow, even given the adrenaline shot from the situation. “But… but… the bike?” she stammered, trying to force the words past her sluggish brain. “The bike is down there?” She pointed to the alley way below.
“Yes, which is exactly where they’ll be waiting for us.” Grabbing her round the waist, he lifted her into the air until she was high enough to get hold of the rusty platform above them. Still confused over what he was hoping to achieve, Verity decided it wasn’t worth wasting her energy arguing and simply grabbed the railing, levering herself over the edge. With one wriggle and brief glimpse of stocking top she made it safely onto the next level.
Cross tossed his bag up to her, then braced one foot on the safety rail and reached up. The ill-maintained iron creaked beneath his grip, but thankfully held his weight as he hauled himself after her.
No further words were exchanged between them as they climbed towards the roof and they were both breathing hard as they sprinted across to the other side of the building. When they reached the edge Cross glanced over into the alleyway below.
“I think it’s safe to assume they have this building surrounded.”
“So what now? It’s not going to take them long to work out where we went.”
“I suggest we try another building.”
“And how are you suggesting we do that, fly?”
“Not fly, jump.”
Verity stiffened and backed away from him. “You want me to jump to another building?”
“Are you afraid of heights?”
“Heights, I just have a healthy respect for. It’s the fall that freaks me the fuck out.”
“The gap’s not much more than six feet. You can manage that.” He glanced down at her stockinged feet, “Hell, you could probably manage it in heels if you had to.”
“On the ground!”
“What’s the difference?”
“The twelve storey drop followed by messy impact on the pavement, if I fuck it up!”
He shrugged. “Don’t fuck it up, then.”
While she cast around for a better plan, Cross simply took hold of her duffle bag and calmly tossed across to the neighbouring building.
“Hey! All my stuff is in there!”
“Then you’d better hop on over and retrieve it.”
Behind them came the unmistakable clatter of booted feet on the rusty fire escape.
“We’re about to have company. Frankly, a twelve storey fall is probably preferable to what they will do when they catch you. Do you need any further incentive?” Not waiting for her reply, Cross sprinted for the side of the building and launched himself over the edge and into the air.
Verity found she was the one holding her breath until she heard the thud of him landing safely. Even in the greasy half-light that passed for night in this city, she could feel his taunting grin as he recovered his balance and swung round to face her.
Aware that this was one situation that would not be improved by closing her eyes, Verity fixed her gaze on the broad figure in front of her and tried to ignore the yawning chasm between them. Gritting her teeth she backed up a couple of paces, to give herself a decent run up, and cursing him with every name she could think of, hurled herself over the side of the building.
Her momentum carried her further than she’d expected, sending her crashing into Cross, forcing him to stagger back a pace. His hands closed around her shoulders, keeping her on her feet as her legs trembled with terror and fatigue.
“Nice jump,” he said, releasing his hold once sure she was steady and giving her a light pat on the back. “But a two point deduction from the English judge because you fluffed the landing.”
Recovering a fraction, Verity punched him in the arm. “Fuck you!”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll nail it next time.”
“Next time?”
“You need more practice and we need to put a lot more than six feet between us and them.” Pulling his bag more firmly onto his shoulder, he started to run for the far side of the building. “Come on!”
Verity managed another three leaps before her artificial, terror induced strength gave out and her legs buckled, pitching her forward onto the rough surface of the roof and skinning both her knees.
A whimper of defeat fled her parched lungs as she felt Cross wrap a hand around her arm, clearly intending to haul her back to her feet.
“I’m sorry, I can’t.” The words were little more than a broken gasp and Verity felt a flash of humiliation at her own weakness. But they were true. She could barely walk, there was no way she’d manage another jump. To her surprise, Cross didn’t even attempt to argue or bully her. Instead he stooped and lifted her carefully into his arms.
Alarmed, Verity clutched at his shoulder. “Please god, tell me you’re not going to jump with both of us?”
“No,” he replied with a light chuckle, “I’m not that insane.”
“So what then? Is that it? Are we done? Do we surrender?”
“We’ve tried running, now I suggest we try hiding.”
With little apparent effort, despite their recent exertions, he shouldered her bag along with his own and carried her across to the looming silhouette of the water tower in the centre of the roof. Beneath the structure, several broken down crates had gathered, along with numerous other boxes and general detritus.
Motionless for a moment, Cross scanned the untidy heap, nodded, and then kicked a box out of the way. Crouching down, he wedged her into the gap he’d created and settled himself beside her, pulling their bags into position in front of them, like a barrier.
It wasn’t much, Verity thought, and the flimsy structure wouldn’t stand up to a hail of bullets, but you’d have to look pretty hard to find them. It might work…
Face tucked into the crook of his shoulder, she released a shuddering breath. His steady heartbeat was barely elevated above its normal resting rate and she found that both reassuring and deeply irritating. Her own heart was beating so hard she wanted to throw up, but gradually the warmth of his frame and the familiar scent rising from his sweater settled around her like an embrace and despite the precarious position they were in, she felt herself start to relax.
It came as an unwelcome shock when Cross suddenly got to his feet and pulled her upright.
“What are you doing?” she asked, trying to round up her scrambled thoughts.
“They’ve gone. They missed us.” He paused and she could feel him peering through the gloom, his eyes searching her face. “Didn’t you hear them?”
Glad that he couldn’t see the blush now heating her cheeks, she made a valiant attempt to lie. “Well, yes, but they might come back…”
“I’m sure they will, which is why we need to get moving.” His grip tightened on her upper arm and he steered her firmly to the side of the building. “There’s a subway entrance, opposite. If we can get on a train before they realise what happened and double back, we might be able to put some distance between us.”
Peering over the edge, Verity felt her stomach give another lurch. The fire escape on this building looked marginally better maintained, but not by much and she knew the ground remained as far away as ever. Thankfully though, the darkness hid the worst of that horror.
Cross went over the side first, pausing about six feet below the edge, waiting for her to summon the nerve to follow him.
Terrified, exhausted and with her thoughts still wrapped in that same weird, fuzzy blanket that had persisted for most of the evening, Verity couldn’t find the words or the will to argue with him and obediently lowered her weight onto the iron ladder.
The metal creaked, but held steady, and she found that if she fixed her gaze on the grubby brickwork in front of her face, she could almost ignore the drop beneath her.
Cross moved downwards, slowly, waiting for her to navigate each rung before shifting lower.
At least if she wiped out, she’d take him with her. That thought was cheering and gave her something else to focus on, other than the rusted metal biting into her bloodless fingers.
The subway station was almost deserted, the ticket kiosk closed for the night. Careful not to make eye contact with anyone, Cross purchased two tickets from the machine and firmly man-handled Verity through the turnstile.
Snatching her elbow out of his grip she turned to the grubby stairs and grimaced at the grime currently coating the stocking covered soles of feet.
“Where are we going?” she muttered.
“Doesn’t really matter, just away from here,” Cross replied. “We’ll grab the first train that arrives.”
The solid heels of his shoes rang out against the metal edged stairs, echoing off the tiled walls and Verity frowned. “Something’s wrong,” she whispered, “it’s too quiet down here.”
“It’s just late,” Cross said, hurrying her down the steps but as they emerged onto the completely deserted platform he ground to a halt. She was right, even for the middle of the night, this was far too quiet. Swiftly reversing their course he began to tow her back the way they’d come, when six masked figures in black tactical jumpsuits appeared above them.
Plastered to his side, Verity gave a soft whimper of fear which she’d probably deny later, but he knew that her eyes would be fixed on the sleek, automatic weapons that each man carried.
The last time she’d been around gunfire it had been a single shot and that alone had been enough to render her almost catatonic for twenty four hours. If they were to stand any chance of getting out of this alive, he needed her to stay alert.
Giving her a shake, his tone came out a little sharper than he’d intended as he snapped, “Stay with me”
Verity swallowed hard and nodded, her grip tightening on sleeve.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, Cross spun them round, his eyes searching the platform for another way out.
Somewhere in the distance he could hear the squeal of a train, and hope flickered into life. The flood of passengers disembarking might give their attackers pause and at the very least might provide the cover they needed! - then the unmistakable sound of weapons being raised dashed that silent prayer. This was going to be over in seconds, long before the train could arrive.
In a futile gesture of defiance, he pulled his gun and took aim for the nearest man. He knew the revolver was no match for the heavy automatic weapons pointed in their direction, but he wanted to make damn sure someone else was bleeding before this was over.
The man smirked and lowered the visor on his helmet, clearly confident that his body armour would be enough to stop the low calibre bullet.
Cross shifted his aim and fired straight into the man’s crotch. Even if his kevlar extended that far, the impact would incapacitate him for a few minutes at least. The high pitched scream of pain might have made him smile under other circumstances, but as the remaining men shouldered past their fallen comrade and assumed the firing position, that little victory felt very hollow indeed.
Knowing he wouldn’t get another lucky shot, he grabbed Verity by the arm and dragged her behind a pillar, doing his best to shield her from the flying shards of tiling and masonry as the world around them erupted into a deafening roar of gunfire.
A cloud of dust and smoke filled the platform. Throat and eyes burning, Cross covered his mouth with his sleeve, for all the good it did. You’d need full breathing apparatus to combat this level of smoke… Too much smoke. He raised his head. Far, far too much smoke to have been caused by the gunfire…. Someone had detonated a smoke grenade. Why?
Deciding not to question it too closely, he pulled Verity to her feet and taking advantage of the choking cover provided, dragging her down the platform towards the entrance to the tunnel. Fingers embedded in his arm, she put up no resistance.
Anxious to make it to the relative safety of the tunnel and with every sense honed on the men behind them, he almost missed the figures emerging from the smoke in front of them.
“Portali fuori!”
The order was barked in a language all too familiar to Cross and he froze. Take them out - that was the instruction. Hemmed in by armed, tactical teams both in front of them and behind, any chance of an escape route vanished. Short of hurling them both in front of the oncoming train, he couldn’t think of another way out.
Out of options, he pulled Verity against his chest and turned his back on the weapons being raised. As gestures went, it was beyond pointless. He didn’t think for a moment that the high powered bullets wouldn’t shred straight through him and into her, but at least she wouldn’t have to watch.
Damn it, she shouldn’t be here at all, he thought. She should be sunning herself on a deserted beach, or drinking herself into a fit of giggles in the local bar. If he hadn’t dragged her back into this shitshow, she’d be safe. This was his fault.
It was all his fault.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, burying his face in her hair.
The shriek of the train growing closer was almost drowned out by the wave of gunfire that echoed around the platform.
Warnings: Explicit smut / BDSM / Power Exchange / Male Dom / Impact play / NSFW / Over 18's only
Length: 3.4k
Summary: It's pure smut with additional, wholly unnecessary, kink. Sorry / not sorry!
Chapter List
Full Master List of all works
The look he gave her was so intense Verity could have sworn her underwear ignited on the spot or, at least, it would have, if it wasn’t entirely soaked by the waves of arousal crashing through her system.
It’s just a word, she told herself firmly, and it was clear from his expression that they would be proceeding no further without it. One word and they could consign this entire conversation to the archives, filed under, ‘things that are never going to happen’ and get back to their normal hate-fucking routine. Folding her arms, she raised her chin. “Yes… Sir…”
As the word left her lips her eyes widened in horror. She’d intended for the honorific to come out as pure mockery but somewhere between her brain and her tongue it had obviously taken a detour via parts further south and the breathy gasp beneath those three letters sounded much closer to a lust drenched plea than a cool challenge.
More alarming was the heated blood that had followed the word and was now creeping up her throat and heating her cheeks.
Unable to bear the look of triumph blazing from his eyes she dropped her face and stumbled back a pace.
Cross was out of his seat before she could take a second step. Seizing hold of her chin he tilted her face to his, his gaze taking in her burning cheeks and then sweeping lower to the diamond hard points of her nipples that were currently threatening to slice straight through the starched fabric of her shirt.
“Well now, isn’t that interesting…” he murmured and Verity felt an insistent pulse begin to throb between her legs.
“I-I didn’t mean…”
“You may not have meant to, but I think we can both agree you did.”
Verity took a deep breath and tried to piece together some semblance of control, but her scrambled thoughts were slow to respond, the tribal drum beat of lust pounding through her body and drowning out everything else. A wave of dizziness swept through her and she swayed.
“I don’t understand–”
Cross stepped closer, holding her steady as he ran a soothing hand down her back. “Shhhhh, it’s okay.”
Verity started to shake beneath the caress, making a half-hearted attempt to pull away
“This isn’t…. I-I don’t like this.”
He chuckled softly as he ran his palm up her rib cage, his thumb rubbing firmly over one painfully hard nipple. “All signs would seem to be calling you a liar. There would definitely seem to be some appeal to you from the temporary surrender of control.”
The floor tilted beneath her feet and she clutched at his arms as her balance failed. “
Cross pulled her closer, holding her tight against his chest. Dipping his head, he brushed his nose up her throat, pausing where her heartbeat thundered just below the skin and inhaled deeply. “The key word here is temporary,” he whispered into her ear. “You choose how long the game continues.”
“How do I make it stop?”
“You just say stop.”
“That’s it?” She could feel a vaguely hysterical laugh rising in her throat. “Just like that.”
Cross shrugged. “Consent and right to withdraw are table stakes in this game.”
“Aren’t there supposed to be safewords and… and stuff?”
“Stuff?” He raised an eyebrow in amusement.
“I don’t know. Limits.”
“I prefer to play with ongoing, enthusiastic consent.” He dipped his head and his next words were growled directed into her ear. “And don’t worry, I intend to tell you in great detail exactly what I’m going to do with you.”
Verity felt that statement vibrate all the way down her spine and bit back a whimper. Breathing through her nose she fought down the rising tide of lust just enough to whisper, “And what would that be?”
“To begin with, I would like to pick up where we left off. Yes?” If she was in any doubt as to what he meant, that was immediately eradicated by him reaching for the cloth he’d wielded earlier.
Verity swallowed hard and managed a shaky, “Yes.”
Cross tilted his head, waiting, the cloth snapping impatiently against his leg.
Verity screwed her eyes closed and muttered, “Yes, sir.” If anything the word sounded more lust drenched the second time.
“Good girl.”
At those two words, she could feel the blush now reaching all the way to her hairline as arousal flowed like lava through her veins.
“Turn around then, and we can begin.”
Verity swayed, her limbs no longer feeling entirely under her control. “I-I don’t think…”
Cross gently took hold of her shoulders and turned her away from him, pressing her hands firmly into the countertop. “You don’t have to think,” he said, “just feel.”
Every sense now in overdrive, Verity jumped as his hands settled on her hips and then slid beneath her skirt.
“Underwear comes off,” he said firmly, slipping his fingers under the waistband of her knickers, “Yes?”
Forehead pressed into her hands Verity nodded, feeling each fingertip burning like a brand into her skin.
“You need to say it out loud, Verity. Enthusiastic consent, remember.”
“Yes, Sir,” she groaned, no longer caring how the words sounded. Need had comprehensively kicked pride’s butt and an unfamiliar concoction of chemicals were now flooding her system.
“Oh and one further stipulation,” he leaned closer, warmth radiating from his frame, “you don’t come without my permission.”
Verity whimpered as those words only served to fan the flames higher and the coil of arousal tightened in her gut.
Crouching down, he eased her skirt over her hips and Verity could smell the evidence of her own arousal, scenting the area around them.
“Seeing as we’ve not done this before, I won’t make you count… this time.”
Barely able to take in what he was saying, Verity wasn’t sure if she was meant to be grateful, but thankfully he didn’t seem to be expecting a response as he delivered a sharp nip to her backside and then straightened.
He gently nudged her feet apart with his boot and Verity gasped as cool air met the heated skin between her thighs. She could feel her excitement trickling down her thighs in anticipation.
Cross stepped away, taking up position behind her and Verity held her breath, waiting for the first lick from the cloth.
But he seemed in no hurry to begin, an occasional swish of the cloth snapping through the air, the only sound in the room.
Verity was starting to twitch in almost painful expectation when the first stroke finally landed. The sharp crack that preceded the flick was enough to send her up on her toes, and she’d barely sucked in a breath when fire burned across the back of her thigh, brighter than before. The gasp ended in yelp and she hopped from foot to foot waiting for the pain to subside. But rather than fading, the burn spread into a warm glow, sinking deep beneath her skin.
Cross waited for her to settle before calmly stating, “One.”
The next stroke kissed the smooth skin of her inner thigh, a few inches above her knee and Verity arched back with a yell. Pressing her thighs together she resisted the urge to rub the abused spot, keeping her fingers fused to the countertop. Gradually the sharp sting faded and the glow extended.
Another crack, another sting, this time to the other leg followed swiftly by a fourth. The glow had now extended far enough that it was lapping the delicate skin between her legs and she could feel her clit starting to throb.
Inch by inch he worked his way up her legs, first one side then the other. Each brief jolt of pain was quickly transforming into bliss-laden heat that pooled in her core and gradually her yelps and squeals became low groans as she tilted her hips, rising up on her toes to meet each blow.
The pulse between her legs was now throbbing so hard it obliterated all other thought and she unconsciously edged her feet wider apart in silent encouragement. The next stroke teased against the swell of her labia and her whole body shook, both terrified and yearning for the inevitable conclusion to this game.
When the final blow snapped between her legs, landing with deadly accuracy directly on her clit, Verity’s legs buckled and she teetered on the edge of her climax.
A split second later, Cross dropped the cloth and caught her waist before she could hit the floor. His free hand slid between her thighs and he groaned into the back of her neck as he reached the molten heat of her core.
His fingers circled her swollen clit, the light touch almost too much against the overstimulated nerve endings.
Verity arched back against him, red and black streaking behind her closed lids. “Please, please, please,” she whimpered, beyond being able to summon a full sentence.
“Come now,” he growled into her ear, the single command enough to tip her straight over the edge.
She was still reeling from the aftershocks as he swept her off her feet and carried her over to the bed.
Not bothering to remove any more of her clothing, he tore her shirt open and roughly pushed her bra up, his mouth latching on to one throbbing nipple and Verity could immediately feel the next orgasm starting to uncoil in the pit of her stomach.
He released the swollen bud, kissing and nipping his way down her torso.
Pushing her legs apart, he paused, taking a moment to admire the marks he’d left on her inner thighs. His tongue wet his lips as he ran a finger over one livid line.
“Do they still hurt?” he asked.
Verity shook her head. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, overwhelming any individual sensation.
He flashed her grin, “Then I must try harder, next time.” His tongue replaced the fingertip, tracing the raised welt before pressing a kiss into the abused flesh.
Working methodically up her inner thigh, he treated each mark with the same meticulous, almost reverent, care.
Gasping meaningless phrases, Verity hooked one leg over his broad shoulder, desperately trying to drag him closer to her throbbing, needy centre.
Cross chuckled against her skin, and then shifted his weight, pulling her other leg over his arm, spreading her wide before him.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, as he lowered himself between her thighs.
Finally she could feel his warm breath on her core and, out of words, she dug her heels into the muscles of his back, silently urging him on - willing him to close that final gap.
The moment stretched out and she could feel her legs starting to shake in anticipation. Then he dipped his head and she cried out in relief as his tongue ran up the seam of her sex, the pointed tip finishing with a flick against her clit.
“Please, please, please!” she whined, digging her fingers into the rumpled bedding as she struggled to maintain her slippery grip on the sensations coursing through her.
He paused long enough to shake his head. “Not yet,” he said, the warning note clear in his tone.
Verity groaned, her head thrashing from side to side as the tidal wave of sensation rushed towards her.
“I-I can’t…”
Cross lifted his face. “You’ve already had one, you can wait for the next.” Then he tapped a finger firmly against her clit and her hips jerked in response.
The finger descended lower, dragging through her wet and circling her opening before sinking deep inside.
He chuckled as she clenched around him. “So needy,” he whispered, gently pumping against the clutch of her muscles. “Is this what you want?” he asked, adding a second finger and thrusting into her harder.
“Yes, yes! Oh god, please, yes!”
“How about… here?” The fingers curled, brushing against some hidden spot that forced her spine into an arch. “Yes… I think… right…here…” He pressed more firmly and the air fled her lungs as she teetered right on the brink of orgasm. One more touch would be all she needed. But he stopped moving, maintaining just enough pressure to keep her right on the edge, but not allowing her to tumble over into the bliss that was waiting for her.
Muttering incoherent pleas for mercy and release, she writhed beneath him, but his free hand tightened on her hip, holding her in place, and the moment stretched out.
She almost wept in relief as she heard the sound of his zipper lowering, and the next second his fingers were replaced by the broad head of his erection.
Mouth open around a soundless scream, Verity arched back as he thrust hard into her slick, tight channel, stretching her wide. She would never get used to the size of him, that initial breach, always a dizzying mix of pain and pleasure. But today, pleasure had taken firm control of her nerve endings and she could feel the orgasm already starting to build even before his second stroke.
She was never going to last, she knew that with sinking certainty. Her nerves were too strung out, her whole body screaming for release. And he knew that body too well. He knew just how deep he needed to thrust and exactly which angle would send stars streaking behind her closed eyelids.
Normally, she was happy to surrender to his skill and let herself be carried away by the sensations he created, but now there were rules in place and it wasn’t just her stubbornness that was stopping her from giving in. She wanted to do this… she wanted to make him proud.
Unable to fully process that realisation, she whined and thrashed beneath him. Panting for breath, and out of words, she clutched at his shoulders, beseeching him with her eyes. Cross pulled her closer, trailing her nose up throat until he reached her ear.
“Now you can come,” he whispered before delivering a sharp nip to her earlobe. That final zing of pain was enough to send her tumbling straight over the edge and her whole body clenched as the climax swept through her. Buried deep inside her, Verity felt him pause, his rhythm interrupted as her tight muscles gripped him, holding him in place. Then the first wave receded and he began to move again, steadily stroking her towards the next peak and the next and the next.
She wasn’t sure exactly when her consciousness faded, but at some point she became aware of a cool damp cloth, stroking gently down her throat and between her breasts. Making a half-hearted attempt to sit, she was almost relieved when Cross pushed her back against the pillows.
“Shhhhh, stay there, there’s no need to move, I’m just trying to make you more comfortable.”
Verity looped her fingers around his wrist. “I’d be more comfortable if you were lying next to me.” Her eyes widened a fraction, where had that come from? Normally, once lust had been satiated, they couldn’t wait to get as far away from each other as the tiny flat would allow.
To her further surprise, Cross acquiesced, stretching his long frame on the narrow bed and pulling her against him.
She’d never been much of a cuddler, but Verity felt her slow and fuzzy thoughts settle into happy silence as he wound a heavy arm around her waist. This felt good.
An insistent beeping from the otherside of the room interrupted the moment, and Verity turned her head, struggling to identify the source of the sound.
“What’s that?”
The bed shifted as Cross got to his feet. “The motion sensor. Someone’s entered the hotel room.”
Verity watched as he fiddled with the monitor and the image of their target came into focus, removing his jacket and pouring himself a glass of something that looked like brandy.
“You want one?” the man asked, and a second figure entered the shot. Verity recognised him, from the description Cross had given, as another member of the senior board.
She ought to feel more excited, but her thoughts were slow and sluggish as if still curled beneath a soft, weighted blanket. It was not unpleasant, and the urge to simply pull the duvet over her head was highly appealing, but now was not the time for sleep.
With a reluctant groan she hauled herself upright and made an effort to straighten her clothing. From the other side of the room, she caught snippets of conversation, but nothing she could follow.
“Are they saying anything interesting?” she asked, sliding a hand over his shoulders.
Cross glanced up from the screen and his brooding expression softened into a smile as he wound an arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap.
“Not so far,” he replied. “A vague mention of Valentina whipping votes, but overall, they seem far more interested in the result of the basketball game, apparently taking place this evening.”
Verity snickered and muttered, “Men!” under her breath.
Cross did not rise to the bait, his frown returning as he studied the screen. “Perhaps.”
There was something in his tone that made her hesitate before settling onto his lap, but unable to follow the thread of her thought, she let it go and made herself comfortable, before asking, “What are we hoping to hear.”
His shoulder shrugged beneath her cheek. “I’m not sure. Some indication of what is going on, why the entire board has been almost invisible for the last couple of months. And a little more about why Valentina needs votes would be interesting.”
Turning her face, Verity studied the screen. “You really think they’ll say something useful?”
“Maybe not, but there’s a chance that, away from the formality of the actual board meeting, they might let something slip. MacKenzie has never been a fan of Valentina, if he drinks enough, he might get indiscreet”
As his companion turned away to refresh his drink, MacKenzie tilted his head and just for a moment he was staring straight at the camera, his eyes locked onto hers through the screen. Then he nodded.
Cross surged to his feet and Verity would have ended up in a pile on the floor, if he hadn’t kept a steadying hand on her waist.
Regaining her balance, she shook her head. “What was that about?”
“They know we’re watching!”
Annoyed by how dull-witted she was feeling, Verity glanced between him and the men on the screen. “Then why would they return to the room? I thought you said they’d change hotels”
“Clearly they wanted an audience for their performance.”
Without further explanation, he grabbed his case and began packing the essentials.
None of this was making any sense to her and Verity shook her head. “Okay, but now I’m back to why? They haven’t really said anything, so it’s not like they’re feeding us false information to lead us into a trap. So, what’s the point?”
Cross thrust her duffle bag into her hands, shrugged into a jacket and checked his pockets. “This is the trap.”
“Huh?”
Without bothering to explain, he grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the flat and towards the main stairs.
Suddenly aware that she really wasn’t dressed for an impromptu trip across town, Verity slammed to a halt. “Wait! My shoes!”
He gave her a brisk shake to get her moving again. “Forget your shoes. There isn’t time. You can manage without them.”
“That’s not the point!”
“No. The point is, they knew we were watching. And they wanted us to keep watching, so they could–-” He broke off as he opened the heavy door to the stairwell, one finger raised to silence her next question.
Ears straining, Verity caught a muffled bang from several floors below and frowned, was that from the main door? It almost sounded like… Before she could finish that thought, there was the unmistakable thud of heavy boots on the tiling of the entrance hall.
Lots of boots.
Thoughts suddenly coming back into sharp focus, Verity met his gaze. A single word echoing between them.
Warnings: Smut adjacent / Kink undertones / threats / coercion / bad language
Length: 2.7k
Summary: Having made their escape, there is little Cross and Verity can do but wait to see if their attempts at infiltration are discovered. However will they pass the time?
Chapter List
Full Master List of all works
Back in the safety of the airbnb they’d rented under an assumed name, Cross slammed the door and paced the tiny flat, irritation crackling from him.
“That was a shit show,” he said, glaring across the room at her.
Verity leaned back against the door, folded her arms and returned his scowl. “Hey, I did what was needed. The camera is in place, what more do you want?”
“I’d like you to stick to the fucking plan, for once.”
She raised an eyebrow. Cross swore so rarely, it was always more shocking when he did. Like seeing your primary school teacher turning up to class drunk. But she wasn’t in the mood to pander to him, just because he was feeling pissy. Jamming her fists onto her hips she stepped forward and raised her chin.
“You weren’t the one in there. I had to make a call and I made it.”
“All you had to do was get in and out without anyone noticing. Now the entire hotel will be on high alert.”
Throwing her arms wide she raised her voice. “It already was! I don’t imagine the higher echelon of the Eighth Circle choose their hotels based on their easy going ambience. That place was locked down tighter than Fort Knox, I was lucky to get in there at all, let alone out in one piece!”
He glared at her in silence, clearly wanting to refute her statement, but unable to deny the truth in what she said. Finally he took a deep breath and turned away, moving across to where the small receiving device had been set up.
Verity felt the fight go out of her as he fiddled with the buttons and the screen flared into life. He was right and she knew it. She’d been over confident and had ended up in a situation she couldn’t talk her way out of.
“What do you think will happen now?” she asked in a quieter tone.
He shrugged. “I assume they have standard procedures to follow. They’ll check any rooms you accessed and seeing as you only accessed one, that shouldn’t take very long. All they have to do is work out which key card is missing and check the log.”
Teeth worrying her lower lip, Verity moved closer. “We might be alright,” she said, but the hopeful note in her voice sounded forced, even to her. “They might not find it. I hid it well.”
He nodded and gave her a tired smile. “Keep your fingers crossed.”
The screen glowed into life and Verity winced as the picture sharpened to reveal half a dozen members of the hotel staff carefully checking the hotel room, their expressions grim. Pillows were patted and smoothed back into the place, light fixtures and fittings, carefully examined.
Holding her breath, she watched as one young girl moved to the shelves where the tiny camera, set into a fountain pen, was placed. For a moment her cleavage filled the screen as she stretched up on tiptoe to check the top shelf. The image from the device jostled and jumped as it was moved and then replaced, the angle slightly different now, but still capturing most of the room.
Then the girl moved away and Verity heard Cross release his breath with a hiss.
“They missed it,” she whispered, clutching at his shoulder, barely able to believe their luck.
Cross waited, his eyes never leaving the screen until the staff completed their sweep of the room and closed the door quietly behind them.
“So it would seem,” he replied, the relief heavy in his tone.
Verity flopped into a chair. “So what now?”
“Now we wait and see if the hotel chooses to confess its sins or if it decides not to inform its guests of the unfortunate infiltration suffered.”
“How will we know?”
Cross shrugged. “Under those circumstances, standard Eighth Circle protocol would be to switch hotels, so we’d see staff packing up belongings.”
“He could be gone for hours! Are we just going to sit here and wait?”
Cross glanced round the tiny two room flat and Verity followed his gaze. Despite the fact they were both travelling light, there was still clutter from their presence scattered over every conceivable surface.
He grimaced at the mess. “You could tidy up a bit.”
Verity snorted at that suggestion. “I’ve done my stint as ‘housekeeping’ for today. You want it clean, you do it.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said, leaning forward. “If you can point out one item that I have left out of place, I’ll clean the entire flat,” he paused, “and cook dinner.”
Frowning, Verity followed his gaze. He wasn’t exaggerating, the flat looked like a bomb had been detonated in its midst. Empty coke cans and crisp packets littered the coffee table while empty mugs and bowls sat congealing in the sink. It couldn’t all be hers, could it? Joy flashed through her as she spotted a t-shirt in a crumpled heap by the bathroom door, and then she remembered she’d nicked it from his bag when she got up to make coffee that morning.
“Fine,” she muttered, getting to her feet, “but isn’t it painful to be that anally retentive?”
“And yet, somehow, I survive.” Picking up the carefully folded newspaper he shook it out and settled back in the chair, his expression so smug she wanted to slap him.
It actually didn’t take as long as she was expecting and she was relieved that Cross chose not to comment on her technique as she filled the sink with soapy water, leaving the crockery to soak while she swept the rubbish from the surfaces into a bin bag.
Humming to herself, she scoured the mugs and bowls clean and set them on the draining board. Then she ran a clean dishcloth under the tap and began to wipe down the counter.
As she moved into the living area and bent over the coffee table to remove the crumbs and water rings, she heard a rustle from behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed that Cross had set down his paper and was watching her work with a wicked smirk on his face.
He shifted in his seat, making no attempt to hide the outline of his very obvious erection, straining at the confining denim.
Verity rolled her eyes. “Please god, tell me it’s the outfit that’s turning you on, and not the fact that I’m tidying up!”
“Well, watching you clean up after yourself is a novelty and therefore contains a certain frisson of excitement, but no, I can assure you, it is definitely the outfit,” he shifted slightly in his seat, “or at least, the arse that it’s barely covering.”
Verity wiggled her hips, enjoying the way he needed to shift again in response. “What is it about french maids,” she said, musing aloud, “is it the feather dusters that reach the spots other sex toys can’t? Or ze outrageous French accent? Oh, wait, should I get one of those frilly outfits with the tiny, pointless aprons?”
He laughed at this suggestion. “And true to form, you’re immediately imagining the character you’re going to play.”
Annoyed, Verity snapped the cleaning cloth at him, catching him mid thigh and prompting a wince. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.
“Ow,” he said, rubbing his leg. “Careful, I will retaliate.”
She pouted, and put on her best little girl lost voice, twisting the cloth between her fingers. “Oh, was I a bad girl?”
Cross sighed, “That is exactly what I mean. You lean into the whole kink dynamic for effect but I’m never sure how much is genuine, and how much is simply a game to you.”
Wrong-footed by the direction the conversation had suddenly taken, Verity stiffened and muttered, “Never heard you complain.”
“It was what I expected. You’re a grifter, so for you it’s always about assuming a character and playing a role.” He raised a hand. “It’s not a criticism, you’re very good at it. But for the record, it’s not the outfit that’s important or the accent,” he paused, considering, “Although I do like the french accent, you can do that again sometime. It’s the implied ‘service’ element that’s hot.”
“Really?” she cocked her head, “Aww, are you missing the good old days when I was your employee and had to do everything you said?”
“Like that ever happened!”
“Hey! I was a model employee! I wore what you wanted, went where you pointed and put up with no end of shit from you and your colleagues!”
“You lied, cheated, stole and on one occasion pulled a gun on my associate!”
Aware that she was edging perilously close to uttering the ‘she started it’ defence, Verity shrugged and attempted to downplay the accusation. “Well you’re going to get picky….”
Without warning, Cross got to his feet and Verity trailed off into silence as she was reminded, once again, of how very tall he was.
“The way I remember events, you went out of your way to do the very opposite of everything I asked. It almost felt like a reflex or perhaps a protection instinct. But I’m forced to ask - protection from what… or whom?” He took a step closer and Verity had to fight the urge to back away. He leaned forward so his next words were whispered directly into her ear. “You’re bright enough to know that deliberate disobedience in a place like the Eighth Circle would have only made things more difficult for you, so I don’t think it was me you felt you needed protection from.” He straightened, adding, “Was it protection against yourself you needed? Fear of what might happen if you surrendered a little of that control?”
Maintaining eye contact now meant her head was tilted back at an almost painful angle and some primitive instinct was quick to remind her that exposing her throat to him was unwise. Without thinking, she dropped her chin. She was now staring at his shirt front, and the slightly open vee at the neck and was nearly overwhelmed by the urge to run her tongue from the hollow in the centre of collar bone right up to the straight line of his jaw.
Cross hummed softly and then asked, “Do you even know what you’re afraid of?”
Barely able to hear him over her accelerated pulse, thundering in her ears, Verity shook her head and swallowed hard, trying to force some moisture back into her mouth. Eventually she managed to croak, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
One finger tapped against his chin and then he stepped closer. “Call me Sir, again.”
Overwhelmed by the sheer size of him, Verity cast about for a diversion, but couldn’t summon anything more than a weak, “What?”
“Earlier, in the hotel room, you called me Sir. Do it again.”
Verity blinked. He’d never asked her to do that before. Normally she called him Cross, or occasionally, ‘Mr Cross’ with just enough dumb insolence to take away any kind of reverence from the title, and once he’d insisted she use his first name. Her thoughts wandered back to that moment… that had been kinda hot… but was it the demand, or the situation? She wasn’t sure.
His voice broke through her thoughts. “I’m waiting.”
“That was a joke, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I know that, but this is different. Look me in the eye and say it again.”
“What’s that going to prove?” she asked, playing for time.
“It’s a very loaded term. And even you are not that good an actor.” He tilted his head to one side, his eyes never leaving her face. “If you can use that word, standing right in front of me, without reaction, then we know that this is not your kink, and the subject is dropped.”
Verity’s eyes narrowed. “And if I can’t, what happens then?”
The grin stretching across his face was positively sinful as he said, “Oh in that case, the game gets considerably more interesting.”
“What does that mean?”
“Turn around and I’ll show you.”
Unwilling to turn her back on him, clenched her jaw and held her ground. “Why?”
He leaned forward and took the damp cloth from her fingers. “I told you there would be retaliation.”
Verity realised he was deadly serious and that she’d need to talk her way out of this situation or it would escalate very quickly. But the words wouldn’t form. Breath now coming in short gasps, her mind felt oddly blank as her thoughts slowed to a crawl.
She’d never felt less equipped to handle a confrontation. Or more turned on, she realised with horror. Sparks of white hot desire were streaking along her nerve endings. Of their own volition, her feet moved, turning her back on the dangerous man looming behind her.
“Bend over and hold onto the counter top.”
Good sense and arousal waged a brief but heated war within her, before arousal comprehensively kicked the butt of good sense. Verity leaned forward, placing her hands on the formica surface and silently cursing Cross beneath her breath.
Before she could gather her scattered, jittering thoughts enough to brace herself, there was a sharp crack and a line of fire raced across the back of her thigh.
“Ow! Fuck!” she yelped, her fingers flying to the livid mark now blooming on her skin. Trying to rub away the sting she spun round. “All right. Now we’re even!”
“Fine then.” With a shrug he dropped the cloth onto the coffee table and resumed his seat.
For a few seconds Verity stared at him. Was that it? Had she won the argument? If so… shouldn’t she feel victorious? Or at the very least, relieved? But she was feeling something else entirely. A warm glow was extending from the point of impact, and her skin prickled with arousal.
Cross picked up his newspaper, ignoring her as he returned his attention to the lead article.
Verity realised she was panting softly, each breath fanning the flames that were licking through her system. He was just going to leave her in this state! And there was nothing she could do about it. The damn flat was too small to even have a wank in private. Even if she locked herself in the tiny shower room, he’d know. For a moment, she was tempted to do just that, but the thought of his mocking smirk on her return, kept her feet rooted in place.
Cross glanced up, his gaze slowly running the length of her legs, over her short skirt and up to her heaving cleavage. Eventually he met her eyes. “Did you want something?”
Verity ground her teeth. She’d managed to make everything so much worse. If she’d just gone along with his suggestion in the first place, it would probably be over by now and he’d be….
She realised she was staring at his fingers as they tapped lightly against the worn denim of his jeans. Too many memories of those talented fingers slammed through her head and she bit back a moan of frustration.
He was just going to leave her standing there, dripping on the carpet until she… She screwed her eyes closed. The insufferable prick wanted her to beg!
There was silence apart from her accelerated heart rate, pounding through her head as pride wrestled with arousal and Verity was horribly aware that arousal was winning when Cross spoke again.
“Have you changed your mind?”
Determined not to capitulate without some kind of fight, Verity gathered the last shreds of self control and managed to ask. “How many?”
Cross returned his attention to the newspaper. “I haven’t decided.” His grin grew wider as he added, “but the number is increasing the longer I sit here.” He carefully turned a page, smoothing out the sheet and then asked, “Did you want to continue?”
“Yes.” The word escaped her lips before she could stop it.
His hand stilled on the newsprint and he turned his head in her direction. “Yes… what?”
