A Powerful Thing
Val woke when Mark pulled into his building's underground garage. The emotional trauma of coming so close to death had pretty much done her in and the painkillers acted as sedatives. Mark was grateful she had slept the entire trip.
"Hello, sleepy head," he smiled at the beautiful blonde, laying a gentle hand on her soft cheek. "How you feeling, sugar woman?"
"Like I could eat a horse and sleep for a month. Oohwee, I sure do ache," she grumbled, stretching her arms over her head.
"I'll fix you a nice hot bath, a cup of somethin' and you can lay down in my big bed and I'll massage your back. And later, I'll massage your front. How's that sound?" he asked, his palms itching to massage her thoroughly... and then some and not just with his hands.
"Shower would be quicker," Val winked.
"Don't know, sugar," Mark grinned, helping her out of the car, his arm around her shoulder. "You could fall and hurt yourself in a slippery shower. Might have to go in with you. Make sure that doesn't happen. Whadda ya' think?" he asked, a cherubic smile on his handsome face.
In spite of the discomfort in her shoulder, Val laughed. "Since when did you get so wicked?"
"Since I met you, sweet woman," Mark grinned.
"Never saw you smile like that when we were workin that case," she told him.
"I like to separate the working SOB I am from the SOB I am when I'm not at the Hoover," he said, pursing his lips so he wouldn't laugh.
"I like this one better," she replied, suddenly feeling weak and leaned on him.
"You okay, sugar?" he asked again. "You want me to carry you?"
"I don't want you to break your back, Mr. A.D. I've other ideas... more satisfying ideas on how you can do that."
"Oh yeah. It's gonna' be a good weekend," he said before covering her mouth with his.
He helped her up the stairs to his bedroom, not giving her a chance to look around, pulled her clothes off and his, and then held her in his arms while the water warmed. His hands wandered over familiar territory but it had been months since he had touched her and he had an urgent need to map her curves all over again. His hands lingered on her lush round bottom and he wondered if he could wait long enough to warm her thoroughly, turn her butt the right shade of pink, love her...
"You are the most luscious woman I have ever touched," he told her. "I've missed you. Didn't realize how much until I saw you again."
"I've missed you, too, cowboy."
"What did you miss?" he asked, pulling her into the shower and under the spray. "Tell me you missed my touch."
"I *did* miss your touch," she sighed as one of his hands cupped her breast and the other her bottom cheeks, stroking the cleft and making her shiver. "I missed your arms around me, your mouth kissin' my sweet parts, and your thick cock inside me. I want you to make love to me again, cowboy."
Hearing her own words, she froze - just a fraction of a second. Cowboy? I called the AD cowboy. Oh Lord! I called the Admiral cowboy. Lord forgive me; I'm goin' to hell. Got to keep them straight. Got to...
"You okay, sugar?" Mark asked, feeling Val tense.
"A tired wave just swept over me," she lied. "Almost pulled me under; think maybe I oughta get to that bed real quick."
"Lean on me, sweetness," Mark urged, pulling her closer. "I'll put you to bed soon as I get us dry."
She put her hands on his shoulders as he rubbed a big fluffy towel over her, drawing it down her back and under her creamy butt, pulling it around her belly and up to her breasts. He took his time, caressing her all over as he dried her, his palms rubbing her gently, the lush feel of her going from his hands to his groin. When she was dry from the waist up, he lifted her to his chest and took her to his bed.
"My legs are wet," she protested. "I'll get the bed wet."
"Gonna lick those drops off you," he murmured, kneeling next to her and dropping kisses on her belly, his tongue snaking out to lick the soft spots near her hipbones. "You're more beautiful than I remember, sugar," he told her as he feasted on her full round breasts, gently tugging a nipple with his lips before moving back to her torso.
Val stroked his head and shoulders, reveling in his ministrations and looked at him long and hard. But no matter how hard she looked, she couldn't find the FBI's AD Wallace anywhere in the man loving her with his mouth and hands. She didn't think anyone at the Hoover would recognize him, either. That persona had been set aside; the persona kissing and licking her body was a sensuous male animal and for the moment, he was hers. Stripped of his starched shirts and well-tailored suits, he was broad shoulders, a hard and beautiful chest, slim hips, muscular arms and thighs, and one hundred eighty proof testosterone. She gave silent thanks to the good Lord for her good fortune.
Mark stretched out on top of her body, balancing the bulk of his weight on his elbows and bent his head to caress her full round breasts.
The heat of his breath warmed her flesh, his heavy thigh felt comfortable between her legs. She reached down to smooth the fur on his chest, gently tugging at it until her palm covered a flat male nipple and she worried it, making him shiver.
"Lord, woman," he growled, his voice skittering over her. "I look at you and I'm so damn hard, I think I'm gonna crack if I can't have you."
"I'm right here, cowboy," Val murmured, her hands rubbing his chest, her fingertips dancing in circles around his nipples. "Better love me quick, I'm fadin' fast."
He took her at her word and finding her ready, entered her with one hard thrust, spreading her sex with his size, losing himself in her lush heat. He pulled her legs around his hips and cupped her ass so he could lift her to meet his thrusts. Val was emotionally and physically exhausted from her ordeal, clinging to him as his hard body pounded into her. At that moment, the surly SOB hammering into her was the lifeline she needed - the feel of him inside her reminding her that she was lucky to be alive.
His own emotions were on edge, the thought of how close she had come to death enraging him and tearing him apart at the same time. "Sugar woman," he murmured, "I thought I lost you. As soon as you're better, I'm gonna whip your butt until you can't sit for a month of Sundays. Don't you *ever* scare me like that again!"
She hadn't seen him in three months, but his words didn't offend her. He hadn't neglected her. He called often, their long distance phone bills astronomical, and he often sent flowers or little gifts to let her know he was thinking of her. Twice, they had made arrangements to get together and both times, had to cancel because duty called them elsewhere. He had been out of town the last time she had been at Norfolk and it was only chance that she had bumped into the Admiral.
Now she had two cowboys in her stable - two testosterone-laden cowboys with equipment to beat the band. The thought made her giddy and shameless and she laughed softly.
Mark looked at her. "What's funny, woman?" he growled.
"You, cowboy," she smiled, cupping his face and kissing him hard, her hips arching into his.
"Why?" he asked as he gulped air, slowing down a little.
"I see you at Norfolk, less than an hour later, I'm in your car and a long nap later, I'm in your bed. You always work this fast, Mr. AD?"
"Would have worked faster if we didn't have that long drive from Norfolk back here. I've missed loving you, woman. Now hang on," he groaned. "Gonna make you feel good."
He did. She soared when he emptied into her, her orgasm catching her unexpectedly, strobes of white neon light darting back and forth in front of her eyes. The shivers caught her limbs and her arms tightened around his neck while her thighs melted under him. The end of their coupling had been unusually intense, an affirmation that she was alive.
Dawn was breaking when he woke, the bed a bit too warm, and the woman in his arms slightly shivering. "Sugar?" he murmured, touching her forehead, "You okay?"
"Hot," she murmured, still shivering.
"Combat fever," he responded. "It's like post traumatic stress," he explained, cupping her face and turning on the bedside lamp. Val's body was damp with perspiration. Small beads of moisture dotted her neck and arms - there were goose bumps on her thighs. He picked her up and took her into the bathroom, turned the shower on cold and stepped under the spray.
"NO!" she yelled as the blast hit her in the back.
"Yes," he said, his hands soothing her. "It won't take long, sugar. You'll feel better soon. Don't fight me, baby."
She fought him anyway, the cold water uncomfortable, her body tensed from shivering. "Sadist," she muttered, unable to free herself from his grasp.
"Marquis de Sade," he replied, turning her so the water hit her chest and belly.
When she finally stopped shivering, he turned the water to warm and gently washed her, his hands lathering and caressing her silky flesh. He was thinking about warming her butt when she finally leaned into him. "Better?" he asked as he nuzzled her neck.
She *was* better, the brief fever spike that had been caused by trauma was dissipating but left her weak. Her body had belatedly registered her near-death experience and the fever had crept up while she slept. "I didn't know de Sade was from Texas," she murmured, leaning heavily on Mark's broad chest. "Did he beat his horses, too?"
"Where do you think he got his riding crops, sugar?" Mark chuckled. "You better stay in bed, today. I don't want to have to hog tie you and whip your ass like my ancestor would."
"I think you were planning on keeping this filly in bed, anyway."
"Am I that predictable?" he laughed softly, turning the water off and wrapping her in a towel.
"This part of you is," she said, stroking the hard shaft that was bruising her belly, making him groan, his breath instantly harsh.
He was desperate to spank that sweet pale butt of hers... love her good. He ignored his need, took her back to bed, massaged her body as promised and held her till sleep took her once again. He hadn't seen her in a few months and forced himself to be content just holding her. The thought that he almost lost her overwhelmed him.
Daily, he lived with the possibility of death - either from the horrors of the case files piled on his desk, an agent falling in the line of duty, and memories of his time in Vietnam never far from the surface. He knew Val dealt with death on a daily basis. It was her job as a forensic pathologist - examining dead bodies and their wounds, piecing together the physical evidence of crimes that caused them, trying to find answers as to how the victims died.
He stroked her face, hugging her a little tighter, feasting on the blonde beauty in his arms. Death had come a little too close to her, seriously threatening her life. He didn't want to think of what might have happened if he hadn't shown up when he did. "Gonna whip your ass," he told her sleeping face. "You ever scare me like that again, I'm gonna whip you good. Oughta do it anyway. Think I will soon as you wake up and I love you properly."
He chuckled when he heard his conscience snicker; the only hands he'd ever lay on her would be loving ones. He might whip her butt good but it wouldn't be punishment. Mentally and physically, he was capable of killing anyone who tried to hurt her - the man who tried to kill her was saved from his retribution only because his agents had intervened. He had set aside his rage when he saw her - replaced it with instant grief until he realized she was alive. His head had been in turmoil, his gut churning at her near miss and his only thought was to hold her, and keep her safe.
To date, their liaison had been brief but satisfying to both of them. He thought about her often and ached for her, pictures of her thrusting up to meet his hips the images he used to bring him release. He knew he wasn't in love - just in lust - but it was enough. He needed to change his life around; he wanted more of her. The thought of pinking her bottom gave him a visual that made him salivate.
Her stomach was growling when she woke a couple of hours later, making him laugh softly as he rubbed her belly with a large and gentle hand. "Feel better, Dr. Fletcher?"
"Hungry and horny, Mr. Wallace. Can you do anything about that?"
"Oh yeah," he grinned. "I can. Which set of lips did you want me to satisfy first?"
Val's mouth opened in surprise at his bold words and she blushed crimson. "Let's take care of a little horny," he laughed softly, "and then your hunger and when you've eaten a meal, we'll see if you're still horny."
"AD Wallace!" she gasped. "You're a wicked evil man."
"I am," he agreed. "Now spread your legs, Commander. That's an order."
She obeyed and he lifted her to his mouth, his lips roaming over her silky flesh, the pink of her folds deepening in color with strokes of his tongue. He loved the way her body responded to him, the way her hips rotated under his mouth, the way her hands stroked his neck and shoulders, the soft purrs of her release. She wasn't fire and air and water. She was earth and he relished her sexual abandonment, her natural sensuality and her uninhibited joy when he pleasured her.
He wondered if there was another man in her life and realized there had to be. She was too lush to ignore. He made a mental note to ask her later.
Her upper arm ached, the stitches in the hollow of her collarbone extending across the plane of her shoulder, the flesh feeling raw and ugly. She rubbed it gingerly. "Did the paramedics give you any pain killers for me?" she asked him when she sat up in bed. "Do I have to write myself a script?"
"No narcotics, sugar. I have aspirin and ibuprofen. Will one of those do?"
"For now," she sighed, pushing her blonde hair out of her face. "But if the pain gets worse, I'll have to get something stronger."
"I'll keep you distracted," he promised, pulling her to him just to feel her full breasts pressing into his chest. "Kiss me, sugar."
"You gonna feed me now?" she asked, stroking his naked butt, admiring the handsome man holding her.
"Not if you keep doin' that," he groaned, his hands in her hair, keeping her mouth close to his.
"The Lord's been good to me," she murmured, nibbling on his lips. "I'm grateful to be alive and feelin' your arms 'round me. Did I ever mention you feel mighty fine to my hands?"
"Finer than sugar molasses, cowboy. Finer than the sweet candied yams and other fixin's my momma used to cook for Sunday supper. So fine," she breathed into his mouth, "that I might have to have some of you before we settle in to eat. You figure you can handle that?"
"Mmmpph," he agreed as she pushed him onto his back and licked him.
"Now, this part here," she murmured as her lips sucked his flat nipple and her hands stroked his sides. "Bet the women in your life don't pay much attention to this. And they should, you know," she added, briefly lifting her head to look at him. "It's mighty sweet and look how it likes what I'm doin'."
He couldn't look; he could only feel and the feeling was good. "More," he rasped and then sighed when she switched her attention to his other nipple.
"I like this, too," she told him, dipping her tongue into his navel, sending shivers through his groin while her hands rubbed the outside of his hips. "This is the part that connected you to your momma's body. This is the part that was cut so you could live on your own. Got to celebrate this part of you."
She could celebrate *every* part of him as far as he was concerned, her mouth and hands caressing him, her soft body rubbing against him, making him groan with pleasure and crave so much more.
"Spread your legs, cowboy. I want to celebrate some more."
He spread them, his skin flushed from her loving hands and mouth, his groans growing in volume as his erect cock waited for her attention. She teased him, making him beg for more when she licked his velvety sac, then sucked him into her mouth. His hands moved to pull her up but she evaded them and he stopped pulling, not willing to chance injuring her shoulder.
"Sugar," he groaned, "I'm gonna whip your ass if you don't..."
"Let me love you, cowboy," she whispered against his groin. "Whip my ass later. For now, let me celebrate my life by loving you." She kissed the tip of him and licked the beads glistening there, then sat up to admire how Mother Nature had endowed him. "You're beautiful, Texas boy. I think we should celebrate all day."
He didn't have a chance to agree. Her mouth engulfed him, her hands stroking and squeezing, her tongue bringing him the most satisfying release. She swallowed what he gave her and licked him clean, her hands still cupping his balls when her mouth finally released him.
It was another hour before he was able to think about their breakfast.