The Lost Key of Atlantis (TheCorsair and Xana)

[Xanaphia]

Saliva drooled down her chin as she met his eyes, her own wide and wild. “Beg?” she breathed, still catching her breath now that he was off her chest, “I… I don’t beg…” Need ached tight between her thighs, fed by the lust in his eyes and the light glinting off the gun aimed at her head. She rose up to a sitting position, and the gun followed her, his grip steady, his knuckles white. “But I’m not stupid, either…” So, she obeyed, turning around and bracing herself against the table. Ass high as she arched her back, knees parted to expose her vulnerabilities.

“Besides, like you can resist…” she taunted, looking back over her shoulder. Propped up by one hand, the other slid between her legs, her dripping lips. Fingers spread her open, smearing his cum over her clit. One long digit disappeared inside her in a slick motion, no resistance at all.

“This what you want? To fuck me at gun point? To use me at gunpoint, use this wet cunt as hard as you want?” The words came out like moans, desperate pleas. The only form of begging her pride could allow. Two fingers filled her now, but it still wasn’t enough, could never be enough. “You’ve got your gun, got me on knees. Got me dripping for you. Burning for you…” The confessions escaped before she could even realize what she was saying. Before she could care, driven by hunger and need.

 

[TheCorsair]

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve fucked you at gunpoint,” Yusef rasped, not bothering to hide his hunger as he watched her finger herself. “Remember Istanbul?” He did. They’d wrestled for a gun there, too, in the tunnels beneath the Hagia Sophia.

He licked his lips as she pushed a third finger into herself, making his cum and her juices drip down her thigh. “Burning for me?” He prowled closer, sliding the muzzle up her spine. “I like that. Maybe I should fire this?” He pressed the muzzle against the blade of her skull. “Let you feel the heat of the steel burning your skin while I fuck you?” He rubbed his sticky shaft against her dripping fingers. “Leave you wondering if you’ll get a bullet in your brain when I cum?”

It was a game they’d both played, threats mingled with sex. A game that added heat and spice to the passion. He leaned into th gun a little, forcing her head against the table. As he did, he rested the head of his dick against the bud of her ass. “Fuck yourself,” he ordered, breaching her ass with his cock. “Make me want to pound my cum into your ass.”

 

[Xanaphia]

“Leave you wondering if you’ll get a bullet in your brain when I cum?”

Aurelia shuddered. His words –his threats– were monstrous. Were he serious, there was little she could do to stop him. He could take anything he wanted from her now, and she suspected he would. And yet it wasn’t offense that made her shudder for Yusef, but desire. The game –the danger– made her ache for him. Maybe it was because death lingered around every corner in this life she led, and she’d come to embrace it. It was the only way to truly live. But, it wasn’t death that fucked her brains out at the moment.

Her cunt gripped her fingers tighter as his cock pushed into her ass, his thick shaft demanding space inside her. That pressure drove the words and thoughts from her mind, leaving her only with a base need to fuck. To be filled with him. To claim Yusef with every part of her body. One finger brushed against his slick length, still sticky with their juices, before plunging back into her dripping cunt.

“Yusef…” she moaned out, her body swallowing his length deeper with every deep breath, molding tight anal walls to his swollen shaft. Her sopping cunt made a sucking sound in time with her fingers sliding in and out of herself. With the gun pressed into her temple, the angle was awkward, but still she moved against him, her hips meeting his as she took his cock up her ass. “Oh fuck, Yusef, claim me then. Claim my body for your pleasure. Claim the Onyx Queen for your prize.”

 

[TheCorsair]

"Onyx... Queen..?" Yusef rasped out, struggling to concentrate on the game of erotic danger. Something that was proving nearly as hard as his cock, because he could feel her ass squeezing his meat and her fingers exploring his shaft through her cunt. "More like... more like... Onyx... Onyx Whore." He drove into her hard, making the table legs scrape and bounce as he pounded into her. "This... that's what you... you want. To get used like... like a fucking... fucking whore." He could hear the slap of flesh on flesh over her moans as he moved hard against her. "You... you get off... on it, don't you? On... on a man... that can... make you beg... to get used... like a cock-hungry slut..."

His revolver slipped unnoticed from his hand as he gathered up her hair and wrapped it in his fist. Then he pulled hard, tugging her head back in time with his strokes in her ass. "I... I should bring... Al-Mutaful in, next." His hand jerked, and his other hand struck her ass with a loud crack. "We can... both... take you. You'd want that, wouldn't you?' His hand struck her ass again. "Wouldn't you? We could fuck you like we fucked that red-haired slut of yours." He slammed into her, heavy balls slapping the back of her hand as his cock pistoned into her. "Probably... you've probably... fucked her, too. Greedy whore." He slapped her ass again. "Say it! Say you're a greedy cock-whore!"

Yusef jerked her hair again, slapping her ass once more. "Say you want two cocks, slut! Say it!"

He jerked her hair again. This time, he lost control. With a cry he drove once more into her ass, his cum coating her anal walls in thick spurts as he lost himself in his lust.

 

[Xanaphia]

Aurelia didn’t notice the dull thud of the pistol dropping to floor, not over the thunderous crash of wood on metal, or the moist smack of flesh in flesh. All that mattered was Yusef, and the demand in his voice and his thrusts.

"I... I should bring... Al-Mutaful in, next."

“Yeah, is he as cocky as you?” The words came with a hiss, gripping him tight as he slapped her ass. His movements were relentless, demanding more and more with each stroke and she didn’t deny him. Couldn’t deny him. Her body craved him, craved his, every thick inch of his cock and the heat of his lust.

"Say it! Say you're a greedy cock-whore!"

“Greedy… as fuck,” she growled in agreement, meeting his thrusts as a challenge. There was no chance to answer his last demand, not before he hilted his length inside her and filled her with his seed. Her desperate cry of release echoed his, milking his strong body of pleasure. Her and his. Theirs.

Shifting, she turned to face him, and found the gun almost absently. Lifting it, she glided the muzzle along the sweat on his chest, until it rested just under his chin. Her lips hovered just over his, her body brushing against his with each heaving breath each took. “Guess you… yet live…” Her lips forced open his mouth, taking the kiss, hunger welling up in her. Old hunger, made new again, rebirthed in the heat of their joined mouths. Fuck, she missed him, missed this, missed…

But no, she couldn’t let that happen, couldn’t allow herself such indulgences while she waged war on tyrants. So, she broke the kiss, and slid his gun back into his hands. Pushing him away, she stood on shaky legs, and gathered up her coat from the floor. “You’re, uh, dismissed. I expect you ready to move once we reach port.”

 

[TheCorsair]

"I believe," Yusef smirked, "that I have already demonstrated my readiness to... move." The words sounded hollow in his ears, though. He felt like he wanted to say more, needed to say more to the woman he felt... felt... what, exactly, did he feel? They'd been closer, once. When they were both younger. But that had been a lifetime ago, and blood and time separated them from the dreaming youths they had been. Time and blood, and a man she believed she'd loved who'd betrayed her. Perhapes there had been a moment there, but that moment had passed.

Shaking his head in an effort to dismiss the thought, he dragged on his trousers. “But, as you wish," he said, fumbling to button his fly. "I shall be ready, when Al Mutaful is ready." Smirking, he pulled on his shirt and recovered his pistol and the thick envelope. “Until then... your highness.”

-*-

“So let’s talk about plans,” Quentin said, rolling a map of Europe out across the table. “We’re dealing with the Thule Society, and they were absorbed into the Ahnenerbe a few years back. So the best bet is that they’re heading for Wewelsburg Castle, which is about...” he traced his finger on the map. “250 west of Berlin.”

He slid his finger south on the map. “I understand that we’ll be making port in Naples tomorrow.” He flashed a grin at the so-called Onyx Queen. “The Sfart Alandhar Alhrhryt makes good time, by the way. But getting a train to Berlin won’t be a problem.”

He looked around the room. “Won’t be a problem for Katie and I, at least. But you two,” he looked from Aurelia to Yusef, “aren’t exactly going to be welcomed in Germany. So. Any ideas?”

 

[Xanaphia]

“I have one. I am not fond of it, but it’s probably our best bet to staying under the radar and getting into place,” Aurelia grumbled, arms crossed over her chest. “You and Katie will pose as a wealthy married couple in Germany on vacation, or perhaps business, and Yusef and I will be under your employ. Yusef as a bodyguard and driver, I would imagine, and myself as, well, a servant.”

“Married couple, Is that necessary?” Katie glanced over at Quentin, and blushed as their eyes met. Sure, she fantasized about the idea, on occasion, the same way others might dream of coming into a lot of money, but it was a fleeting exercise in fancy. Her loyalties were already spoken for, and besides, she’d make a terrible housewife. “Couldn’t we pose as business partners?”

Aurelia frowned. “We need a story that going to invite the least amount of scrutiny, and attractive wealthy married couple is the simplest we have.”

“Right, of course,” Katie agreed, nodding vigorously. Again, her eyes wandered to Quentin

"It gives us an excuse to lug this around," Aurelia started, dragging out a large chest. It was empty and inconspicuous, until she removed the inner panels to reveal compartments containing 4 rifles, 4 pistols, extra ammo and a handful of grenades. “I don’t anticipate having to use them, but…” Aurelia glanced around the group and smirked, "Well, I like being prepared."

 

[TheCorsair]

"I don't think being married is necessary to explain a large chest," Quentin remarked, examining the chest. "But, you're right that a couple travelling with servants will attract far less notice than four strangers who just happen to be travelling to the same place and keeping an eye on each other." He examined the arsenal the Onyx Queen had revealed. "I also don't think that we need this much artillery."

"Speak for yourself, al-Mutaful," Yusef snickered.

"Think of it this way," Quentin continued. "There's no way we can out-gun the entire Ahnenerbe, especially on their home turf. All this," he gestured at the drawer, "will just get us killed."

"Are you saying we should go unarmed?" The big Kurd scowled. "That sounds like foolishness."

"No, not at all." Quentin dropped into a chair next to Kate. "Pistols, yes. But, rifles and grenades seem a little over the top."

"I disagree," Yusef replied seriously. "What is it you keep saying, expect the best and plan for the worst?" He leaned forward, emphasizing the words. "Aurelia isn't suggesting we shoot our way into and out of the German fortress. She's - and stop me if I'm putting words in your mouth Aurelia - she's suggesting we be ready to wage war if everything goes to hell in a proverbial handbasket."

Quentin considered that for a minute, then nodded. "Makes sense. I withdraw my objections, then. We'll need props as well." He held up his left hand, blinking in mild surprise to find a heavy platinum band on the ring finger. The surprise faded as he remembered finding it in a cave in the Empty Quarter, and he chuckled as his absent mindedness. "I've got a ring already, so we'll need a matching one for Kate. And..." He caught her left hand and examined it. "We'll need to pose as newlyweds. She clearly won't have been wearing the ring for long, so that will keep it from looking suspicious." Leaning back, he stared up at the ceiling. "I'm... a wealthy American, heir to a shipping fortune. And my dear wife studied anthropology, and has always been interested in Herman Wirth's work translating Frisian folk art."

Grinning, he looked sidelong at Kate. "You don't have to believe his drivel. Just think it's interesting. And I, being the doting new husband, am taking you to hopefully meet him and maybe even get to review his field notes at the headquarters of the Forschungs- und Lehrgemeinschaft des Ahnenerbe, How does that sound?"

 

[Xanaphia]

Aurelia nodded along to Yusef’s assessment of her motives. “That’s more or less what I am thinking. I know we won’t be able to shoot our way into the Ahnenerbe, but this all could come in handy if we have to shoot our way out of Germany.”

Despite herself, Katie’s breath hitched as Quentin grabbed her hand. Which was beyond silly, she knew, given that they’d already slept together over a dozen times by now. His thumb caressed her knuckle, tracing the space where a ring would rest. Unbidden, her fantasies returned, and, for once, she let them percolate. It would help her get into character, after all, and the entire success of this mission relied on their act. That thought made her chuckle lightly as though she were laughing at Quentin's plan.

"You don't have to believe his drivel. Just think it's interesting. And I, being the doting new husband, am taking you to hopefully meet him and maybe even get to review his field notes at the headquarters of the Forschungs- und Lehrgemeinschaft des Ahnenerbe, How does that sound?" He was still holding her hand as he explained his plan. Still brushing his thumb over her ring finger as he spoke about playing the doting husband to his new wife.

“That sounds great…” she agreed, voice light, almost dreamy, before she caught herself. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “The plan sounds great. Con, convincing.” Unlike her.

Aurelia fit the secret panels back into place. “Then it’s settled. You two can go pick out a ring in Naples, along with anything else you might need. Think of it as a test run, for posing as newlyweds. I while work on getting our paperwork squared away, passports and any other identification we might want. Any preference on a name? You will have to use it while we are in Germany.”

 

[TheCorsair]

“Mesler,” Quentin decided. “Charles Mesler. A good, German-sounding name. It should attract less attention, that way. And we’ll definitely need to go shopping. Kate looks good in anything, but let’s be honest here.” He brushed imaginary lint from his worn canvas shirt. “This is not going to do in polite society.”

“Right. How much will it cost?” That came from Gwen, who was both another of the Onyx Queen’s agents and another redhead. And the Onyx Queen’s accountant, from the question.

“I don’t know, exactly,” Quentin replied. “I mean, Kate and I will have to pass as wealthy enough to have servants. That means suits for me, and casual clothes as well. And dresses and gowns for Kate. And luggage.”

“A lot, in other words.” Gwen massaged the bridge of her nose. “I don’t like this.”

Quentin laughed as he rose. “I had a look at your cargo. You can afford it.”

“What?” Gwen half rose, reaching for her sidearm. “When did you..?”

“The day after we left port. I was bored.” He offered Kate his hand. “Shall we go shopping and get into character? And what name did you want to use?”

 

[Xanaphia]

"Lydia,” Katie decided, taking Quentin’s hand, “Lydia Mesler.”



Being out with Quentin was delightful. It was ostensibly a shopping trip, to prepare to pose as newlyweds in Germany, but it was also chance to get into their cover, to perfect their new persona, before they would be in any danger from a slip up or inconsistency.

They might have been playing roles, but nothing felt more natural. The light, subtle touches, the little inside jokes. Holding hands, lingering looks, leaning into him. Quentin might have been pretending, but she believed it.

The words were lies, but they felt true. The smile on her face and blush on her cheeks and the gleam in her eyes were certainly true. It wasn’t real, but it should have been. Or, perhaps she just wanted it to be. Did Quentin? Could he fake it so easily, so convincingly? Enough to fool even her? Or perhaps she just wanted to believe it. Believe him.

By late afternoon, they had mostly finished getting everything they needed, with a new wardrobe now awaiting back at their hotel room. Just one last detail remained, to complete their masquerade: the ring.

That errand didn’t take them far from their hotel at close. Close enough to walk actually, as they held hands and made plans for dinner. The jewelry store door announced their arrival with a ding, and the shopkeeper looked up. She was an older woman, in her forties or fifties, with a slim build and classic fashion sense. “How can I help you two today?”

“We need a wedding ring. I had to leave mine back in the states for repairs, just before we left,” Katie explained, going into her prepared story. “The fittings were loose, and I could never forgive myself if I lost a stone while on holiday.”

“I’m sure we can find something to wear in the meantime, then.” The shopkeeper pulled out a slate of rings, catching the light and glittering in a dazzling array of sparkles. A marquis cut diamond solitaire on a platinum band caught her eye, and fit perfectly on her left hand. Unconsciously, her gaze turned towards Quentin, and a giddy smile beamed on her face. “I’ll take it.”

“Excellent! Let’s get you rung up then.” The shopkeeper operated the register by rote, and engaged in small talk, “How did you two get engaged?”

“How did we get engaged?” Kate repeated, laughing shyly to buy herself or Quentin time to make up a story. Once glance into his eyes –those gorgeous blue eyes– told her he didn’t any anything off the cuff to offer, either, so she pushed forward. “Well, it’s a funny story, really. We were, umm, together in the… uh shower. Making love, and the question just came out.” Her face flushed as she told the story, pulling the details from the ether. While she could hardly believe the words coming out her mouth, they certainly felt true. True enough to coil pleasantly in her core, imaging, –no remembering they way their bodies moved together in that moment of bliss.

The shopkeeper laughed nervously, her face crimson. “Well, I suppose that is one way to do it. Do you need a receipt?”

Kate giggled beside Quentin as they left the shop, headed back to the hotel on foot. “Well, looks like we will need to invent a story there, in case it comes up again.” She didn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at him, not without imagining the scene in her mind, arms and legs and smooth inner muscles wrapped tight around his firm body. “Or, I suppose we could keep that story. It’s certainly embarrassing enough not to invite further questions.”

Kate laughed again, and squeezed Quentin’s hand. Nearing the hotel, she tried to change the subject, and tear her thoughts away from the fantasies running wild through her mind. “Should we change for dinner? Or just take a quiet meal in our suite?”

 

[TheCorsair]

“How did you two get engaged?”

Quentin has a lie on the top of his tongue, but a strange warmth flickered on his left hand, from the ring he’d found in the supposed djinn cave. And then, something like a memory flickered through his mind. A memory that wasn’t a memory, of falling to his knees within a space like a cathedral, of panic changing to relief at the sight of Kate.

“Scarlet" he remembered whispering. "My Katie.” A mad grin stretched his lips. “If I may be so bold, my Lady in Scarlet and Emerald, will you do me the honor of accompanying me into a life of danger and exile?"

"Is that a proposal, my Meddler?" She laughed. “You should know by now I'd follow you to the ends of time, if only you'd let me."

He hesitated, caught between what he’d intended to say and what he wanted to say. "It is," he said, the mad grin fading into a smile of joy and wonder. "It is."

But then he heard Katie’s response, and the daydream-memory splintered with the effort of keeping a straight face. The scandalized, horrified, jealous expression on the jeweler’s face made it harder to keep from laughing, and his ribs ached by the time they made it outside. Finally, as the door shut, he shook with laughter.

Kate giggled as well, taking his hand as they turned toward the hotel. “Well, looks like we will need to invent a story there, in case it comes up again. Or, I suppose we could keep that story. It’s certainly embarrassing enough not to invite further questions.”

“I say we keep it,” he replied, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “If nothing else, we can use it to one-up any other newlyweds we run into.”

Kate laughed again, and squeezed his hand. “Should we change for dinner?” she asked as the hotel came into view. “Or just take a quiet meal in our suite?”

“Quiet meal in our suite, I think,” Quentin replied. “My feet ache from walking all day. I mean, don’t get me wrong: shopping with someone else’s money is fun. It’s also a lot of work.”

He waved cheerfully at the man working the front desk, exchanging a few words in rapid Italian, then made his way up the stairs towards the suite they had taken. It wasn’t a large room - unsurprising, since the hotel had been built a century ago - but it was comfortable. A large, hand-carved bed and matching wardrobe dominated the room, and a door of blonde oak led into the adjoining full bathroom.

“Much nicer than sleeping in a tent,” Quentin allowed, taking Kate’s jacket and hanging it in the wardrobe. “Or directly on sand.” His jacket joined hers. “Are you in a mood to order dinner up, yet? Today’s menu is a cheese plate and Spumante, followed by creamy zuppa pomodoro and then manicotti.”

Turning, he caught her hips and pulled her close. His lips found hers, exploring her flavor as he kissed her. “Or,” he murmured, hands sliding up her body to begin working the buttons of her blouse. “We could work on our engagement story.” Fingers stroked her bare skin as he worked the blouse open. “I think we need to practice it, until we get it right.”

 

[Xanaphia]

“I should warn you, it may take me many attempts to get this right,” Katie advised, with mock severity in her tone. Her lips brushed against his, not quite opening, but teasing him with the heat of her breath. “I hope you are prepared to practice it all night long.” This time her mouth opened to his, invited his, and she melted into the heat of his embrace and his kiss. She untucked her blouse, letting him open it to the waist and exposing creamy skin to his hungry eyes.

What did this mean now? Was this just passing the time together, like so many other times he’d visited her in Cairo? Was it more She knew what she wanted to believe -- that his desire for her went deeper than the mutual lust they shared. Deeper than the pressure of his shaft buried inside her. She didn’t ask –didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to break the spell where possibility lied. Besides, if he didn’t share her feelings yet? Well, he would, eventually. She would make him fall for her.

“And, well, even if we do get it right, there is more to go over. Much, much more.” Her hands fisted in his collar, pulling him into a deep, yearning kiss that refused to let him go. “Like, how does Charles fuck his wife? Slow and deep, driving her mad with her mounting need? Or hard and fast, until he’s taken everything he’s wanted from her?” Another kiss stole his breath and distracted his wandering hands, just long enough for her to push him down onto the bed. She followed him down, straddling his lap and letting her blouse fall away from her shoulders and onto the ground. “And what does he do when she decides to just take what she wants from him?”

 

[TheCorsair]

Well damn. Quentin felt his pulse quicken as Katie shoved him back onto the bed and straddled him, murmuring lust-dripping questions. “Excellent thoughts,” he replied, cupping her breasts and exploring their softness through the slippery silk of her bra. “We’ll definitely need to answer those questions.”

He rocked his hips, letting her feel the pressure of his trapped shaft against her. “Lydia must be some sort of a wanton,” he speculated, gently squeezing her breasts together. “No proper lady would admit to a shopkeeper that her husband was fucking her before he even proposed.”

His thumbs scraped her as he slid them between silk and skin, dragging the bra up and over to bare her breasts to him. He arched his back, straining to breasts by mouth and tongue to one erect nipple. “What do you think?” he murmured, before suckling at her. “Why was Lydia such a loose woman?”

He switched to the other breast, teeth scraping her skin before his lips soothed the red marks. “Was she a whore?” he wondered, rolling his hips again. “A gold-digging slut, trading her virtue for a place in the bed of a wealthy man? Or was she a good woman, seduced by a man who had intended only to use her body for his lusts?”

He continued to roll his hips as he stared up into her green eyes. “The way Charles fucks his wife, and his response to her when she decided to take what she wants, drowns on the answer.”

 

[Xanaphia]

“Well, Lydia may well be a wanton, but I don’t think she’s loose,” Kate teased, grinding against Quentin as he fondled her breasts. “I don’t think Charles would ever call her a loose woman.”

A moan escaped her lips, lost for a moment in her pleasure. Thoroughly enjoying Quentin’s attention. “But, no, I don’t think she’s a proper lady. Not when she’s willing to brag to another woman that her husband is not only handsome and rich, but fucks like an absolute animal. Not when she’s trying to make another woman jealous, make that other woman wish she could ride his thick cock.” Fuck! But if she were a proper lady, or at least proper enough to wear a skirt, she could be riding that thick cock right now! Just slide down his swollen shaft –as wet as she as, there would be no resistance.

“I think Lydia was too spirited to be tricked or seduced by some lustful brute. No, Lydia knows what she wants, and is willing to pursue it. Willing to abandon social mores to satisfy her appetites. Willing to flout common decency in pursuit of passion. Lydia isn’t willing to let society dictate her desires, her agency. She wasn’t looking for husband; she chased only her own pleasure.”

Katie built up a rhythm, moving against Quentin and his throbbing shaft. Determined to drive him wild, to make him want her as badly as she wanted him. “Only a man whose charm and wit could match his skill in bed would be able to win her over. Only a man with a skilled, silver tongue to win her heart or her hand.” Her thighs gripped him, need building beyond her ability to resist. She dug her nails into his shoulders, and whimpered, desperate breaths ghosted over his ear.

”Now, for that man?” Sharp teeth nibbled at his ear, deep hunger welling within her. “She’d follow him until the ends of time. If only he’d let her.”

 

[TheCorsair]

“That man,” Quentin breathed, “would know exactly how to treat a woman like that.” He gasped at the sharp sting as her teeth found his earlobe. “Because a woman willing to flout common decency in pursuit of passion doesn’t want a man who would lie back and let her find her pleasure in her own.”

Gripping her hips he twisted, rolling them over on the big four-poster bed. Then he covered her mouth with his, tongue exploring deep as he rose up on his knees. His hands ghosted over the bare skin of her stomach on the way to his hips, and he let his knuckles press against her as he tugged at his belt and opened his pants.

“Oh, sometimes he’d let her take the lead,” he husked, filling his hands with his hard shaft as he freed it from his trousers. “Let her delight him with the skills in her dark past. He knows exactly what kind of woman he married, after all. Knows exactly how she earned the money she brought into their marriage.”

Now he was opening her trousers, nails scraping her skin as he dragged them down her hips and over her thighs. “But he knows just how much she craves being used, as well.” He shifted, freeing first one shapely leg and then the other, then tossing her pants away. “How she wants to ache from the sheer force of her husband’s lust for her.”

He kissed her again, tasting her gasps as his rock-hard meat slipped over her slick cunt. “And thst first night they had together? When they danced at that jazz club before she took him back to her flat?”

His mouth covered hers again, letting her taste his groan of pleasure as his head parted her lips and his shaft forged deep into her with a slow, powerful stroke. “He still regrets not having fucked her against his roadster in full view of the club.”

 

[Xanaphia]

Katie’s heart raced when Quentin rolled them over, exhilarated by his hunger and aggression. Exhilarated by how deeply it mirrored her own. Sure, it might be fun to challenge him, to struggle against his exquisitely firm physique in an attempt to come out on top, but… she wanted this too bad. Wanted him too bad, wanted to be his filthy little plaything.

And his groan as he discovered just how wet she was for him? That groan nearly did her in.

“It’s too bad he didn’t bring that car to Italy,” she purred, hips undulating to chase after his strokes. “They could have offended far more bystanders this time. Just take her on the hood, legs up in the air and spread wide for him. An ankle in each of his fists as he just uses her.” Legs tightened around his hips, pulling him deeper, harder into her.

“Just use her. Use every… every inch of her body.” Building moans made it hard to speak, hard to think, hard to do anything but fuck. Or get fucked, as Quentin’s thrusts drove her deeper into the mattress. “Just use… her. Use… use me… Please… please… Oh fuck, use me…” Her cries drowned out the squeaking mattress and the pounding headboard, full of her desperate need for him.

Every inch of her body begged for use. Legs spread wide, to take the full length of his swollen cock. Back arched, hips bridged, heels digging into his ass as she hilted him into her quivering warmth. Wordless sounds of ecstasy surrendered herself to his lust and begged for more.

 

[TheCorsair]

"Oh, he'll use her," Quentin agreed, inspired by the game they were playing and the luscious filth spilling form her throat. He seized her ankles and lifted them into the air. "Just the way he used her at that party in Havana." His hips bucked, driving himself deep into her as he hooked her knees over this shoulders. "Remember that? How he fucked her in front of the cream of Havana society, and then fucked a stranger in front of her while a strange man fucked his cum into her?"

She cried out, a keening wordless sound of pleasure, and he felt her orgasm in the arching of her back and the desperate clenching of her walls on his shaft. In response he bit his lip, fighting the urge to give into his own pleasure. Instead he let her legs slide back down his back to grip his hips, before snaking his hands under her rump and along her back. As she moaned he leaned back, pulling her up until she was straddling him. He drank her groans greedily, lips and tongue exploring her mouth while his hands slid up and down the curve of her spine. Her weight allowed her to sink deeper on his shaft, and then he was letting her taste his own sounds of pleasure as she fucked his mouth with hers.

"That... that's it..." he groaned, leaning slightly back to give her more of his cock. "Fuck... fuck me. Just... just the way.... the way you did... in Havana. Oh God. Fuck me... Ka... Lydia!" Even in the throws of passion, it was important to try and maintain their cover identities. "Fu... fuck me, Lydia! Fuck... fuck my cum... out of me..." He gripped her ass, nails digging into her skin in his hunger. "Oh... oh fuck. I... I'm close... Lydia! Oh... oh fuck... I..." He couldn't hold back any longer and he filled her mouth with his tongue as he climaxed, his pleasure flooding her slick inner walls as he emptied himself into her with a violence that surprised him. When he was spent, he clung to her, pulling her down across his body as he fell back heavily onto the mattress.

"I'd... been thinking... we'd reenact the engagement..." he gasped. "Make sure we're agreed on... how it went." Grinning, he kissed her lips rendered puffy by the fierceness of their lust. "Maybe... maybe round two?"

 

[Xanaphia]

Katie cuddled into Quentin, skin sliding over skin as she shifted into a comfortable position. Fighting the delightful heaviness of her orgasm in order to return his kisses, his passion, his hunger.

"I'd... been thinking... we'd reenact the engagement..." he gasped. "Make sure we're agreed on... how it went." Grinning, he kissed her lips rendered puffy by the fierceness of their lust. "Maybe... maybe round two?"

“Absolutely,” she agreed, shifting her weight to her arm, so she could lean over him, “we need to get it right.” Another kiss, breasts squeezed against his chest as she drank deep from his lips. “Just right. It could be a matter of life and death!” Which was true, from a certain point of view. They’d be undercover, after all, and inconsistent stories could put them at risk. And that risk was very dangerous in a fascist police state like Germany.

“Now, I remember this story starting with a generous round of head,” she announced, slithering down his nude figure. Her lust perfumed his skin, like a prideful claim on his body. “You were sleeping, and your cock was just too tempting to resist.” Her eyes closed as she savored his shaft, a long lick from base to head of his semi-hard length. “Far… far too tempting to resist…” One hand gripped his thigh, that firm, powerful thigh, and the other held his cock, stroking gently in contrast. Against she licked him, moaning from the mingle musk of their shared orgasms. “Is that how you remember it?”

 

[TheCorsair]

Quentin rolled his hips, allowing more of his rapidly hardening shaft to rise into the air. “I don’t remember exactly,” he smiled, then gasped as her tongue swirled around the sensitive skin of his head. “I was asleep, after all. You’d pretty well worn me out, and the first thing I remember was waking up with your mouth on my dick.”

He gasped aloud, hands twisting into fists in the bedding as she did ndulged his description of the ‘memory’. He was always sensitive right after an orgasm, a fact she k ew as well as he did, and she was clearly using that to good effect. “My hit, hard dick,” he added, rolling his hips once more. “And I just gasped, wondering if you were going to a club me off again.”

He groaned aloud, watching his spit-slick length sliding in and out of her lips. “Because... I wouldn’t have put that past you,” he grinned. “Just sucking me to an orgasm while you fingered yourself, and then going to sleep.” She had done that to him before, after all. “But that’s not what you had in mind, that night. You had other plans, didn’t you?”

One hand groped for his discarded pants as he spoke, moving fitfully as she drew gasps and jerks from him with her skilled mouth. Her emerald eyes followed his hand as he extracted the belt from the loops, clearly wondering what he was up to. “You had a scheme,” he said, watching her eyes as he wrapped the leather around one wrist. “As I recall, it was your plan all along to make sure I understood I was yours.”

 

[Xanaphia]

Kate took the belt, examining with a careful eye while the other hand stroked her own saliva up and down his swollen shaft. “What can I say? Maybe I had no intention of settling down when I first met you, but, well, once I got to know you? Not merely charming, but genuinely clever and funny? Not just a pretty face, but skilled and well endowed? Not merely wealthy, but filthy fucking rich? Bloody right I had to lock you down.”

Her mouth returned to his cock, lips wrapped around his head, and the belt trailed over his abs. For awhile the belt slid up and down his torso, moving on a film of his sweat, while she took his dick deeper into her sultry mouth. Once she had swallowed just over half his length, right in the middle of a moan, the belt came down –thwack!– against his stomach. Not hard, not very hard, but hard enough to make him jerk his body, and thrust his full length into her eager mouth.

She smiled around the base of his cock once he recovered. Kate didn’t think this was quite what he had in mind when he suggested the belt, but she saw no reason to be so predictable. This was much more fun.

More and more, she bobbed up and down his cock, swallowing him deeper each time. Then, timing it just as she took his head into her throat, she swatted him with the belt again. Harder this time, transforming his pleasured groan into an honest gasp. The faster she moved, sucking him madly, the faster the belt came down, again and again. By now she was fucking his cock with her lips, and the leather whistled as she struck him across the chest.

In one smooth motion, she pulled away completely. Saliva drooled down her chin and onto her breasts and dripped onto his skin as she crawled over him. His cock twitched as her body rubbed against it, and twitched again when she kissed the livid red mark on his chest. Cum and lust seeped from her cunt as she mounted him completely.

“Are you mine yet?” she asked, caressing his cheek with the leather strap, “Or do you need more persuading?”

 

[TheCorsair]

He was not expecting the use to which she was putting the belt. And, truth be told, it really wasn’t a use he normally cared for. But the slapping of leather on skin was a light sting that perfectly balanced the aching delight of her wet, skilled mouth on his sensitive meat, and the combination drew a strangled gasp of pleasure from his throat. By the time it accelerated to something that should have been painful, she was devouring his shaft like a woman possessed, and he was too hard and desperate for her to care.

And then she was crawling up him, lips and body caressing the red marks left by the belt. “Are you mine yet?” she asked, slowly sinking around his throbbing shaft. The leather belt traced the line of his jaw as he felt himself bottom out in her. “Or do you need more persuading?”

Well fuck. That sounded hot. “You are nothing but a cheap, gold-digging whore,” he play-snarled, catching her wrist in an iron grip. “And it will take far, far more than what you have to catch me.” His other hand caught the leather belt, making a show of tugging at it and letting his hips rock upwards as he did.

Pulling the strap from her hand, he slapped it lightly across her chest. “You think you can master me, you brazen hussy?” Deliberately, he loosened his grip on the belt. “You don’t have what it takes.”

 

[Xanaphia]

“Cheap?” Katie cooed, hips moving in a slow rolling motion. Taking his full length as she built up her momentum. “We both know I’m not cheap…”

There was a moment’s resistance, as Quentin tore the belt from her grip. Mostly because she was enjoying the game, enjoying the role, enjoying the way his cock twitched and throbbed inside her. But he thrust up into her, drawing a deep moan from her lips, and drawing the belt from her hand. Another, sharper moan burst from her lips as the belt smacked her tits. Not hard, but it made her back straighten and her cunt clench, and it was a sweet counter to his dense friction inside her.

“You don’t have what it takes.”

“What? You don’t think I have it in me?” She claimed him then, completely, smooth, slick walls gripping him like a fist. “Pretty sure I have it in me now.” One hand tore the belt away, and the other pressed his chest down onto the mattress. Upright now, she bounced hard on his hard cock, ass cheeks slapping his thighs with a resonant echo.

“I think you want a brazen hussy. A woman who takes what she wants. And I want you…” Her words starting coming apart as her ecstasy built, breathy and filling passion. Filled with bliss, filling herself with bliss as she took her harder and deeper and harder still. “I want you… I will… I will have… have you. Take you. Take… all of you….” She braced back on his muscular thighs, rapture capturing her mind, her heart.

“Quin…” She bit her own lip, hard enough o draw blood as she drew back his name, and forced herself to use his cover, “Charles!!! Oh fuck, Charles…”

 

[TheCorsair]

Quentin struggled to remember Katie’s cover name as she chased her pleasure on his shaft. Lydia. That was it. “Then... then take it... all... Lydia.” He pulled the belt from her nerveless fingers as she bucked up and down his length. “Take... take it... like the... the brazen... brazen hussy... you are..,”

He brought the strap up and around her neck, letting her feel the cool leather against her skin. Then he drew it taught, slowly pulling her face towards his. The tip of his tongue caressed her lips, tasting her blood where she’d bitten herself in the violence of her ecstasy. “Take me... the way... I want.” He caught her bottom up, sucking gently at it. “Because I want... to be fucked... by... by a brazen... whore..,”

He let the leather slide down across her shoulders and back, allowing her to push back up and swallow more of his burning dick with her cunt. “Fuck... fuck the cum... out of me...” he gasped, rocking his hips to meet her thrusts. “Show... show me... how bad... you... how much you... want I... to take...”

 

[Xanaphia]

Katie took another kiss, ignoring the pain on her lip as she opened her mouth to his. Even on the bottom, Quentin took control, using the belt to bring her in close and making demands. Fuck, she loved hearing those words come from his lips. Filthy words, treating her –hell, calling her a whore, but they carried his desire. His need.

She rose up again, hands braced on his shoulders. Staring deep into his eyes, as she worked up and down the length of his shaft. Staring, as she built back up her momentum, his pleasure. “I want it all,” she said, turning a confession into more dirty talk. “All of you… everything.” Deeper now, she took him, bottoming out on his swollen cock, harder and thicker this time around. Gasping, she grasped for his hands, intertwining her fingers with his.

The she was fully upright, gripping his hands and gripping his thighs. Her breasts bounced in time with her hips, almost painful as she drove herself faster down his length. “I want your cum. I want it inside me… pumped deep inside me… Please…”