Voices Carry

"I bet I can make you come without touching you."

She was stunned. Maybe he wasn't serious. She put on her best teacher voice, "Will you stop that. We're working."

"Don't tell me listening to them didn't turn you on. And you just know they're gonna go at it again when they get back."

"Okay, I'll admit I was ... moved by their enthusiasm." What was he doing?

He chuckled and ran his hands through longish dark hair. "I say again, I'll bet I can make you come without touching you."

"What's gotten into you, Krycek? We've got a shitload of money on the line here. Define touching." She turned her attention back to the recording equipment.

He smiled at her. "My skin on your skin. My naked flesh on your naked flesh."

She felt her knees go weak and was glad she was already sitting down. He really did look good. He was wearing a new suit, cut and tailored to perfection and it must have set him back a bundle. Subtle, understated and elegant, it was ostensibly grey-green but mere mortals recognized the colour as closer to black. It set off everything about him, from the unique shade of his eyes to the monumental width of his shoulders, the suit was designed to be worn by Alex Krycek.

And Alex Krycek was born to wear it. It fit like a second skin, not obscenely tight but rather like a living part of him. The white of his shirt shone even brighter against the darkness of the jacket, like snow next to rich, black earth. His only concession to comfort was the loosened pewter silk tie. Nothing was out of place, nothing was ruffled, his shoes even kept their perfect polish. Self control personified.

If power were the ultimate aphrodisiac, then he was the sexiest man alive. She knew he could command life and death and yet here he was, in an cheap hotel like a low-level agent staking out a couple of thieves and offering, offering, that. It had to be some sort of test. But which was pass and which was die. It was time to roll the dice.

She turned around to face him. He was lounging in a crummy little arm chair that by rights should have been to small for a man his size to lounge in. Somehow he managed. Like he managed everything. Grace had no fairer friend. He held his hands near his face, fingers steepled, resting delicately against his nose. He snapped his fingers down into fists and a jolt of desire shot through her as her mind's eye watched his well muscled forearms flex. She whimpered.

"Am I to take that as a yes?"

She nodded.

"Say it, say Yes, Alex, I want you to do it. I want you to make me come.' I don't like tacit permission, I like things on the table."

"What do I have to do to you? What will you do if I say no?"

"Nothing. And nothing. We will proceed as if I never offered. Now say it if you want it."

"Yes, Alex, I want you to do it. I want you to make me come."

He smiled again. "Good. How would you like me to start?"

She swallowed hard and licked her lips. "How ever you want."

He bared his teeth at her and all the muscles in her body contracted suddenly, violently. She loved it when he did that. He was the only person she knew who could speak perfectly with his teeth clenched. She had made a study of his mouth, the way he talked. How, when he listened to you he kept his lips slightly parted and his teeth together, giving the illusion of something but she wasn't sure what. How when he was disappointed in or baffled by something an agent said he would purse his lips, furrow his eyebrows just a bit and shake his head, just once. But everyone knew that one. That one meant you weren't in real trouble. The bland face meant you were in trouble. Bland expression and angry eyes meant you were dead. Or your career was. She wasn't sure which was worse. His lips would disappear into a thin white line and his eyes would go flat and you knew you only had seconds to live.

She'd seen that look once, just before he killed a man. Two field agents had been working on a very important mission - she didn't even know what - and one betrayed the other, sold him out and got him killed. She could remember every detail. Alex stood up and walked around the table.

"Give me your sidearm." The agent complied. "What kind of ammunition?"

"Hollow point."

"How many times do I have to tell you people, loyalty is everything," and the safety snicked off. It took the cleaning staff two days to find all the bone and brain matter. Hollow points at point blank range exploded his head like a pumpkin. His expression never changed. She believed him when he said nothing would happen if she said no.

"Close your eyes." She did.

His voice slid into her ears and over her body like silk, as viscous as melted chocolate.

"When I was a boy in school, someone told me the proper way to write an essay. First you tell em what you're going to tell them, then you tell them, then you tell them what you told them. That's what I'm going to do to you. I'm going to tell you what I'm going to do, then I'm going to do it. How does that sound?"

"Wonderful."

"First I'm going to run my hands through your hair, gently massaging your scalp."

"I thought you said no touching?"

"No my skin on your skin." She heard the amusement in his voice "I'm wearing gloves. Black leather gloves." He ran a fingertip over her lips and she shuddered at the touch of the butter-soft hide.

"Sneaky bastard."

"Um-hum. Then I'm going to lightly stroke the sides of your neck, up the curve of your jaw and over your face. Slowly over your face. Over and over until I can hear the change in your breathing. Then I'm going to unbutton your blouse, caressing the creamy white skin of your breasts and collar bones, over the caps of your shoulders and down..."

Voices in the hallway interrupted him, it was the marks.

"But Baaabeee, I don't wanna go to Rio. The humidity makes my hair frizz." They were back.

Suddenly, Krycek was all business, the attempted seduction forgotten.

"Shit. They always did have perfectly bad timing. Put you headset back on," he growled as he handed it to her.

She was glad they came back when they did. There was a tightness in her groin that was going to take a while to go away and she squirmed a little in her chair. She fussed with the equipment for a moment, pointedly ignoring Alex and that goddamn suit. He'd still hadn't taken off the gloves.

"Come on, Sweetie, I want to go to Rio. Carnival, nude beaches, ..."

"Bimbos with big hooters in bikinis. Or not. I don't want to go to Argentina. How about the south of France?"

"Rio's in Brazil, Honey. If we went to France, we'd have to live with French people and speak French. Rio."

"Brazil. Argentina. Who cares. I'm horny, let's fuck."

And then the sound of cheap particle board breaking.

Alex buried his face in his hands and shook his head.

"And who said romance was dead?," she muttered and hit the speaker. Low moans invaded the room, gasps and tiny yelps of pleasure, murmured obscenities all trickled through the wires and the walls. Alex lifted his head and smiled at her.

"Sound's like they're gonna be at it for a while."

"Yeah." Oh Sweet Jesus not again. She didn't think she could stand another round of being in the same room with Alex Krycek, sex noises and her vivid imagination. A quick trip to the bathroom had been necessary the last time. And his little game hadn't helped.

"Close your eyes again. So, as I was saying. I'm going to caress the tops of your breasts, your delicate collar bones, over your shoulders and down your sides. I'm going to slowly slip off your shirt, casually running the palms of my hands over your nipples."

The chocolate silk voice was having its way with her, finding places in her brain she didn't know existed, stroking pleasure centres that had lain dormant too long. She could hear Stevie and Baby in the next room, he was going down on her and she didn't care who knew it. She tried frantically to put the other sounds out of her mind but couldn't. The other woman's moans and breathy, demanding instructions - touch me here, lick me there, slide your tongue inside me - were destroying her defences. Oh God.

"I'm going to take off your bra and my gloves and let the soft leather slide over your breasts, your heart, your now hard little nipples. You're going to part your legs and show me how wet you are, how badly you want me to touch you. You're going to touch yourself, like you did in the bathroom."

She gasped and he laughed gently, his breath tickling her skin.

"You didn't think I knew. How could I not. I'm an observant man. I'm trained to be." He leaned in closer, whispering in her ear. "When I'm ready, when I want you to, you're going to stand up and take off your trousers and your shoes. You're going to put your foot in my lap and I'm going to stroke the bottom, the delicate part of the arch until you can't sit still and then I'm going to do the same thing to the other foot."

"I can't sit still now. How do you expect me to sit still then."

He picked up her hair and blew softly, expertly on the back of her neck, tracing small designs. Her shoulders jerked back and she shuddered, pressing her lips tightly together to hold back a moan.

"I'm going to work my way up your legs, between your thighs to the beautiful wetness of you and then... . Do you want me to tell you what I'm going to do then?" She shook her head. "Alright, I will."

She could feel the tension building frantically and thought she was going to explode when he blew on her neck. Stevie and Baby's explorations seemed to have no affect on Alex, he was still cool, controlled, in control. They were driving her wild. She could feel three pair of invisible hands caressing her body, Alex and Stevie's big, raw boned and masculine, Baby's tiny and delicate, finding places only a woman knows. Illicit thrills were always the most potent. She knew she had to keep quiet, not blow their cover, she couldn't yell and moan the way she wanted, she kept it bottled up inside, turned it into fuel for her fire.

The room was full of the most glorious scent, rich and thick with undertones she had no words for. Alex's hands were resting on the back of her chair and she could feel them brushing lightly against her shoulders. Her breathing was heavier and she squirmed against her seat trying to relieve the pressure.

"Stop that. Did I tell you you could move?"

"No."

"Well then don't."

The noise from the other room was frantic now, commanding more and more of their attention, point and counter point to Alex's calm descriptions.

He started again. "I'm going to stroke the insides of your thighs slowly moving higher and higher until I can feel the dampness. I'm going to catch some on my finger and then give you my finger to suck. I want you to taste your own juice, your own need. I want you to know what I know."

His voice was fading in and out as she struggled to listen to both at once, the exquisite torture drawing her near to the edge. Grunts of divine effort and Alex's hypnotic voice vied for control of her senses.

"... take off one glove and draw it back and forth between the folds of your labia, deeper and deeper until the fingertips just skim the underside of your clit. I'll ..."

She arched her back and moaned, trapping his fingers between her and the chair. "Alex, please."

He chuckled, sounding a little self-satisfied as he watched her contract and release the muscles of her crotch and bottom, trying to finish what he had begun. He pulled his hands out and walked in front of her.

"Open your eyes and look at me. Listen to them, do you feel what she feels? Can you feel his thick, hard cock sliding inside you? Can you feel his tongue in your mouth, on your nipples, between your legs? Where do you feel his cock? Where do you feel his tongue?"

He stopped and turned his face away then looked back as inscrutable and polished as a stone. His lips curled into the strangest gleeful smile, as if he had just discovered something marvellous and it was all his. Tongue darted out, licked the smile, then hid itself again behind his strong, white teeth.

"Or," he leaned over her and stared into her eyes "or, is it my cock you feel inside you? My tongue on your breasts? My hands on your body? Is it my name you call out at night, alone, in the darkness? Tell me."

She wasn't sure who was the cobra and who was the mongoose and she whimpered slightly in distress. She had no choice but to answer him. "Yours."

The word was almost lost in the ecstatic cries, first Stevie then Baby. Gasps torn from throats they were powerless to control, unable to restrain the sounds even if they wanted to. Their orgasms sent her hurtling over the edge, hips circling instinctively as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her in a flood that receded all to suddenly. She opened her eyes to see Alex smiling at her.

"I won."

"You won."

He swooped down on her, locking his mouth on hers and ravaging it with his tongue. He undid the button on her slacks and slid his still-gloved hand under her panties and between her legs. The sensation was divine, her still spasming vagina clamped on his fingers as his thumb massaged the sensitive underbelly of her clit. This orgasm was different, deep and more resonant and it burned into her soul. She screamed his name and he swallowed the sound like the power that it was. He broke off the kiss and pressed his cheek to hers, his mouth near her ear.

"You won."