six

Jon didn’t remember parking, the elevator, or opening his door.  As if his auto-pilot had run out of batteries, he found himself standing in his dark living room with his winter coat in one hand.  

He’d seen the kiss.  He’d seen Viktor take the opening, the one he himself had left, and turn it into a scoring chance.  Momentarily blinded, Jon didn’t react quickly enough to see what happened next.  Then he was down the street and out of range.  

He tossed the jacket and went back out the door, right for the stairs.  The elevator was too slow.  Palming his keyring and selecting the right one by feel, he was letting himself into Fiona’s apartment three minutes later.

Jon didn’t knock.  

He had no idea what to expect, or how long he’d been shell-shocked in his apartment.  Viktor may well have Fiona bent over the arm of the couch with that sexy red dress around her waist and handful of gorgeous dark, making her look back as he fucked her.  That image made Jon’s muscles strain against the fabric of his shirt.  But the living room was empty except for a trail of clothing on the floor.

I’ll fucking kill him.

By the hallway Jon knew something else was wrong.  Two shoes were scattered beside the rug.  That red dress, so perfectly filled earlier, was empty and dropped on the hardwood.  No sign of men’s clothing.  He slowed and quieted his steps.  Outside the bedroom, a lacy black bra was twisted on the ground.

Jon stopped.  He should leave.  Fiona was clearly alone, unless she’d treated Viktor to the strip tease of his life.  They had strange boundaries but this was crossing them all.  The master bedroom door was open, a dark spot on the carpet could only be her last scrap of clothing.  He imagined them to be very skimpy panties.  Slightly mesmerized, Jon opened the door a few more inches.  Then he heard the water.

And her voice.

It was a low, small noise.  He froze in place, one foot halfway off the floor.  The blood pounding in his ears made it hard to concentrate, but her voice came again with a tiny sound. Fiona was in the shower.  And she wasn’t alone.

Jon crossed the room in three strides and pulled the door open.

She didn’t hear him over the water.  But she was definitely alone.  The large, glass enclosed shower stall hadn’t even fogged up yet.  Jon could see the perfect lines of her naked body, the pale flesh color.  Her back was to him, one hand splayed against the wall.  

Oh my God.

She moaned softly. No question where her other hand was.  Or why she didn’t hear him coming or feel him watching.  Fiona was busy with a fantasy of her own.

All the blood in Jon’s body surged. He was hard in a heartbeat, realizing all at once he’d been halfway there all night.  Nothing like a challenge to fire him up.  And now, standing on the threshold with steam beginning the cloud the room, he didn’t even know who she pictured while she touched herself.  That afternoon he would have been sure it was his hands, his mouth she imagined.  But Viktor had gotten further in one night that he had in months, at least toward something real.

Jon tore off his shirt and tie.  His pants and shorts and socks quickly followed.  
____

Fiona had nearly stumbled as Viktor released her.  If not for the car holding her up she’d have dropped to the ground.  He watched her reaction carefully but Fiona had none to give.  So Viktor kissed her lips again, softly, and drove himself away.

The elevator took a lifetime as she fought the urge to climb the walls.  The kiss had revved her engine and Fiona was relieved Viktor hadn’t pushed any further.  If he had, they’d be waking up the neighbors every hour all night long.

Stop, stop. Focus, she told herself.  But when she did, it was Jon’s face in her mind.  That was no better.  She was furious with Jon AND she wanted to fuck him.  One problem at a time was more than she could handle.  Fiona tripped out of her heels and gave into the temptation the only way she felt safe.  Her dress, bra and panties couldn’t come off soon enough.

The water was hot.  Her mind alternated from face to face, changing boys in the middle of dirty thoughts they should not share.  Only Fiona’s fingers were up to the singular task of relieving the night’s frustration and they were working hard.  She didn’t even hear the noises she made.  Or Jon until it was too late.

The shower door popped open with a wet squeak.  Fiona screamed.  Anticipating her reaction, Jon grabbed her around the middle and held her still.  It only took a second.  Then he pushed her to the glass and kissed her hard.  Fiona slapped at his bare chest, registering in slow motion that he was here, in her shower, she was naked, so was he.  He’d probably been watching, listening.  So he knew that she had been....

“Ohgod,” she whimpered.  Two of Jon’s thick, heavy fingers slipped between her already- soaked folds and jacked up deep inside her.  She made another guttural noise.  

“Is this how he likes it?” Jon growled in her ear as he pumped his hand.  She was deliciously slick.  He would enjoy fucking her right through the hot mess she’d made for another man, if in fact she had.  “Or is this for me?  Hmm, Fiona?  Get off on making me jealous?”

She finally regained some of her senses and grabbed a handful of Jonathan’s short hair.  Pulling as hard as she could, Fiona wrenched his face away from her neck.  He yelped in pain.

“Fuck you,” she spat.  “Fuck you for thinking I wait around here....”

He pushed his thumb into her clit and Fiona moaned shortly before biting the sound in half.  She would not scream for him.  She would not allow it.  Jon smiled at her attempt to defy him.  Then he stroked back and forth across her hot button.

“... wait around here for you,” she managed to finish.  “Fuck you.”

But her body was betraying her.  The wet between her thighs was not from the shower;  Jon’s hand was doing work.  She crushed her mouth against his.

For a first real kiss, it was off the charts.

Jon freed his fingers with a pop, grabbed two handfuls of her ass and put her right into his lap.  Every jerk of his hips ran his cock between the flat of his stomach and the smooth, bare mound of her pussy.  He lifted her easily: up and down, up and down.  Then he stopped, holding her up, prodding her slit with his head.

Fiona groaned.  She knew he was big, knew he would probably hurt at first, like the burning of a fuse until fireworks started exploding.  But just the tip spreading her swollen place was too much.  

“Afraid you’re not good enough?” she hissed.

Jon’s instinct was to drop her so hard onto his dick they’d both come all at once.  He might get off a thrust or two but he’d be creaming inside her before he could even breathe.  Instead he hauled her toward the door.  He didn’t even turn off the water, just right out of the bathroom and threw her on the bed.  Before she could stop bouncing, he was over top of her with his tie in hand.

“Is this what you wanted him to do?  ‘Cause I don’t think Stalberg’s into the fun stuff, Fi.”  She wrestled with surprising strength, and he let her think she had a chance.  Then he pinned both her hands back with one of his own.

“I bet he’s lots of fun,” she sneered.

Jon wrapped the tie around one wrist, twisted and dropped it around the other.  The ends threaded through the headboard and he pulled so hard she slid an inch up the mattress.  She tried to get a knee up in defense but he sat heavily on her legs.

“Oof, fuck.”

“If you insist.”  Jon shoved her thighs apart, sliding up against her until he had her teased open again.  One tiny move would do it now.  His face was an inch from hers.

“Wait wait, are we really gonna do this?” she said, her tone becoming alarmed.  Jon looked down into the eyes he’d tried to read so many times and knew there was no way he could stop himself.  He couldn’t even wait long enough to try.  But he would never hurt her.

“Were you thinking about me in the shower?”

“Yes.”  She wasn’t ashamed.

“Only me?”

Fiona wanted to scream.  With free hands she’d have punched him.  Why couldn’t he just say, “I want you” or “I’ve been waiting for this” or even just “Yes” and then fuck her?  Why did there always have to be something else - someone else - going on between them?

“Get out!” she shouted.  Jon reared up, still straddling her prone body.  He made no move to leave.  Instead his hand traced the outer curve of her breast.  

“You want me here,” he said in a sure voice, palm rolling over her hard nipple.  His cock throbbed, he pushed another centimeter into her.  “And here.”

OhmyGodyessssssssss, her body screamed.  But Fiona’s mind rioted.  She wasn’t even breathing.  She wanted him so badly, wanted all of the tension that had been strangling her to finally fucking snap like the tightrope she was walking.  She wanted to throw him out the window, she wanted to kill him.  Or let him make her breakfast after the greatest night of her life.  

Something, anything...

Jon put his lips to her ear.  “I want you.”

The line between what they had been and everything else disappeared.

“Yes.”

Her words were instantly erased by a swing of Jonathan’s hips.  He pushed steady and strong, right up into her heart.  Fiona bit her lip until Jon kissed her, then she bit his lip instead.  He grunted as he forced himself as deep as he could go without stopping, terrified of stopping because it would be over.  She was so tight, the strangled noise in her throat saying he was hurting her and she liked it.

“Mother of...,” he breathed.

“Holyfuckingshit,” she swore.

Jon would normally have smiled at her epithet, how cute she was when she cursed.  But he was concentrating hard enough to levitate them both off the mattress.  He needed to get a few strokes in, establish some rhythm so he could make this like last.  Fiona swore again as he rocked his length into her.  Jon pulled on the end of the tie for leverage, used his other hand to push her leg up over his hip.  She was unbelievably tight, or maybe he was just that big.

“Fiona, fuck,” he said.  “Are you a virgin?”

Her voice was a whisper.  “Yes.”

He tried to scramble off her, but was buried so deep he would never have been able to pull out even if she hadn’t locked her legs around his waist.

“I’m kidding!  Shit, you’re a bastard.”  She lost her breath as he crashed back down on top.  Jon gave her a death stare and she just laughed.  “You fuck whores, Jon.  Didn’t you know I would feel,” she pulsed her pussy tight around him, “better than that?”

He groaned as she nearly squeezed the orgasm out of him.  Fiona pulsed again and twisted her hips at the same time, wringing him like a wet towel.  He grunted loudly.

She laughed derisively.  “Ha. Virgin.”

“Oh that’s it,” he said, the blood flow returning to his brain.  He’d been scared for a minute that everything had gone too far.  But this was the Fiona he knew; the way he always imagined she would be.  He flicked the tie free of the headboard and pinned her again while the knotted the ends together.  Jon pulled the tie like a leash until her arms were around his neck and lowered himself all along her body.  With a kiss to her mouth, Jon pushed off one massive thigh and rolled her on top.

Fiona squealed against his lips and she landed hard on his cock.  Jon got two handfuls of her ass and began bouncing her.  Her perfect breasts swung tantalizingly but he couldn’t reach without allowing her to free her arms.  He  still had plenty of ideas for her while tied, if he lived to see them. He levered up hard, held her down hard.  Her eyes were closed.

“Look at me,” he said.  She did just as his thumb found her clit and she closed her eyes again, clamping down a cry.  Jon timed his hand to his hips and pushed her right up into the pressure every thrust.  

Fiona felt like she was being forced apart from the inside.  Jon was by far the biggest she’d had and now she knew that size did matter.  Or maybe it was the motion.  Maybe it was being tied up and thoroughly fucked at all the same time.  Either way, his thumb was working its way toward magic.  She still wanted to punch him.

Jon hauled her down and kissed her.  Fiona swiveled her hips, giving as good as she got.  She sensed Jon was covering something with his kiss.

“Almost there, baby?” she purred.

“You wish.”

“Mmm, I do.  I want to feel it,” she teased, rolling down hard.  “I want to hear you....”

Jon pushed his head back and roared.  It made Fiona laugh.  She had a little bit of control after all.

Thinking the same thing, Jon threw Fiona down next to him on the bed.  He spun to his knees, pressed her down onto her stomach and straddled her.  The tie was quickly open and shut again, this time her hands tied behind her back.  Jon grabbed her two wrists together and steered her into place.

“Fucking perfect,” he said, running an open hand over her ass.  His fingers trailed through the soaked honeypot and all the way up over her backdoor.  She flinched.  “Hmmm, next time.”

Jon positioned himself between her knees, then eased himself inside.  From this angle Fiona was tighter than ever and completely helpless.  She moaned softly as he took her.  Then Jon pushed his knees out in a sudden swipe, spread eagled her, and heaved himself in to the hilt.

 

“Fuuuuuuck,” she said into the mattress.  

He snaked a hand around her hip and tweaked her clit.  She breathed an unintelligible noise.  To Jon it sounded like a white flag waving in the wind.  He would have her here and now, she would go first and he would say when.  Then he would have the thing he wanted more than anything else.

“Baby,” he whispered into her ear, working his mouth hard against the forgiving skin of her upper back.  Every stroke pushed her harder into the mattress; Jon bent his knees and pulled on her tied hands, forcing her to kneel.  His hand splayed on her stomach to hold her up.  Breath heaved from her lungs as he plowed home.

“God I’ve wanted to fuck you forever,” he admitted.  

Fiona couldn’t think.  Her defenses would have pushed back but her brain was scrambled.  Jon was only hurting her a little bit and it was totally overwhelmed by all the pleasure building between her hips.  Everywhere his hands touched tingled, everywhere his lips met her skin blistered.  It was all she could do to move against him.

Jon was so close to coming that every punishing thrust hurt him more than her.  He was harder than he could ever remember.  This needed to happen now.

“If I untie you, promise to be nice?”

“If I call you Viktor, promise to tie me back up?”

She actually laughed.  Jon gritted his teeth.  

“I’m done waiting.”

He doubled his pace.  Fiona put her face to the blanket and screamed.  He tipped her onto her side, repositioned himself with one of her legs over his arm and the other pinned down, and resumed riding her into the floor.  Fiona, still bound, slid her hips till his thigh pressed her clit and let him work against it.

“Better hurry,” he said, realizing she was trying to come before him.  He had no intention of making sure she went first after that last verbal attack.  Viktor could come clean up if there was anything left of her.

“Shut up.”  Fiona opened her eyes and saw his face, that face she knew so well.  She had pictured a few things not so different from this very scene alone in this room, in her big bed in the dark.  And maybe a few more as she pretended not to notice Jon getting hard while he held her in his sleep.  All she had to do was let everything else go.

Something so easy was almost always a trap.  It lured you in and pounced when you were defenseless.  Fiona gave up, let is happen.

Jon.  Finally.

She bucked hard against his solid thigh while Jon held her down by the hair and pumped.  Out of nowhere, he kissed her full on the mouth, his tongue sweeping over hers.  It made her toes curl.

That was the last line of resistance.  Fiona screamed as she came.  Jon kept his mouth to hers and pounded her pussy right through it.  Her back arched off the bed, grinding every last ounce of feeling against his thigh before she collapsed.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said.  Jon pulled out and shifted till he was alongside her, still holding a fistful of her hair.

“Fi.” His voice cracked.  She opened her mouth.  The second his cock slipped between her lips, Jon hunched over and came right down her throat.

____

Author's Note: I considered putting a warning at the top of this chapter, but I thought it might take away from the element of surprise. I personally died about five times writing this. Hope you're still with me. ;)