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A Royal Catastrophe (Mali and Quix)

The items he'd chosen weren't particularly Ben's usual choice of attire for a woman, as he was a man who found a sexy, elegant dress, revealing just enough flesh to spark one's imagination of what lay under, much sexier than clothing that left little to be discovered. Possibly apart from the thigh-high 'fuck me', boots; he wouldn't be a man, if not aroused by a woman wearing those. However, a future liaison with Sky wasn't the reason he'd selected the items he had, but, instead, to add a little humour to their desperate situation. And, to be honest, because he was still a touch miffed that she continued to get the better of them in their exchanges. Whether his plan worked or not was debatable, as although Sky didn't actually laugh out loud or appear to find it as funny as he did, the seductive way in which she spoke the now accustomed reference to his balls made him wonder if the words were a promise or a threat.

He decided, more by a process of wishful thinking than an appraisal of the evidence before him, that it was the first, and when, with, unsurprisingly, the bags in his hand, and her arm around him, he shot Sky a cheeky grin that was lately, becoming a permanent fixture on his features. "I do love ice, and whether it's your hands, your mouth or even your foot, a man can't be choosy when it comes to having a woman pay attention to his balls, Ms Lassiter, even if it hurts. Though, if provided the option, I do prefer the former two over the third, and for them not be be bruised in the process." Oh, she was so much fun, and Ben flicked one last wave and grin to the sales-assistant who continued to watch them as they exited the store.

Along with the hotel clerk, that was now two people who were in no doubt that Schuyler Lassiter was a Hooker, and that was highly entertaining to his dry British sense of humour, particularly when the assumption was made in reference to the future Queen of England. After scouting the food-hall, and not locating a stall offering a steak-and-kidney pie, or even one with proper chips rather than those damn fries the Americans consumed by the bucket-load, Ben joined Sky in ordering a hamburger, absent the fries, and accompanied by a coca-cola presented in a plastic mug so large it could have doubled as a community bathing-pool. The smallest available. "At least in Britain, you'll have proper chips," he said, collecting a fry from her plate after attempting to wrap his mouth around the burger, before deciding it was best attacked with a knife and fork, or possibly a chain-saw, and popping it into his mouth.

His eyebrow raised, "Why are we keeping it up; as the prostitute said to her client," and Ben laughed at his own joke, before swiftly deciding he'd likely be the only one who'd find it amusing, and pretended it'd never been uttered. "Well, the boy at the Hotel made an assumption, due to the location, rather than anything to do with you, so it made sense to go along with it, rather than draw attention to ourselves." No, that came later, when they'd had a gunfight in the Lobby. "But, as to why I keep up the charade?" Spearing a piece of bun with his fork, and dodging to avoid the spray of juices that spurted out, Ben chewed, with his eye on Sky. Eventually he swallowed it down, and shrugged. "Because, as an immature male, I find it amusing, but if you insist, I'll resign as your pimp now. A pity, because we'd have made a fortune."

His eyes gleamed with humour as he pushed his plate aside, the meal only half consumed, but more than enough to sustain him, and stirred his beverage with a straw. "A high-end call-girl, I'd envisage you as, or an an exclusive Escort to the rich and famous. Definitely not a street-walker, or one to work out of two-bit hotels with flea-infested mattresses. However, a Geisha?" Restraining a burp, he pursed his lips, and paused to contemplate the possibility. "I can see that, your pale skin accentuated by the makeup, and dancers physique, in a kimono. High quality silk, hand woven, and the best available, you'd turn every man's head, even the gay ones."

Nodding to himself, the man became stuck in his own imagination for a moment, before he managed to clear away the unbidden thoughts. He was enjoying her company, and the conversation. As random and surreal as it was. "What about me, Ms Lassiter? Do I remind you more of James Bond or Austin Powers, and are pin-stripes slimming, or should I switch to plain black?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Got the Fuckers."

As the two bantered and conversed at the table, Rowan Edgar jumped from his seat, in the London Headquarters of MI6, his eyes glued to the information on the screen before him. A purchase had just been made on Ben Robert's credit card, and the computer was in the process of bringing up an image on google maps, and spitting out the GPS co-ordinates.

That only took a matter of seconds, and immediately the precise location was confirmed, Edgar picked up the encrypted phone, and messaged his superiors. However, those superiors were not British. Nor were they Russians loyal to Vlaidimir Oganov, or even the American CIA.

Unbeknownst to all the other parties, there was a fourth player in the game of 'Pin the Tail On Schuyler Lassiter', who neither wanted to kill or save her, but to capture the future Queen of England, and use her as a bartering chip in the furthering of their own ends
 
His joke was actually funny, welcome and kind of charming. For an MI6 agent, he was probably the most laid back one she had ever met now that they were becoming more accustomed to each other and actually forced to spend this much time together. Perhaps her fighting skills—which was just Sky getting lucky with her dancing—and the fact that she was able to drop as many men as he was capable of perhaps made it easier for him to continue along this way. She wasn’t just some wimpy, weakling of a female but a fighter. She was a Lassiter and Lassiter’s were fighters. They survived and they didn’t give up. “Charming.” And she wasn’t entirely sarcastic either and it was her way to let him know that his little joke hadn’t gone unnoticed or not understandable. She totally got it and it was fitting. It made her laugh after all.

As he explained why they were keeping up with the charade, she nodded her head as she continued eating. By the time he finished, her burger was finished and she was dipping her French fries into her milkshake, liking the combination, regardless of how weird it might be. It was a habit she was doing since she was a child and believe it or not, it was a habit that her father had introduced her to. While she was so much like her mother, Sky was very much her father’s daughter in both mannerisms and personality in some ways. Suffice to say, she was a good blend of her parents. “Oh no, we don’t need to stop. I just wanted to know. It is amusing and hey, if you like, I can even model those slutty clothes you bought for me.” She waggled her eyebrows. “We need to kill time somehow at night in our hotel room. And I believe in doing stupid things, to a degree—which meant she wasn’t about to do something stupid like sleep with him—just to be able to lift spirits. Like…drink an entire bottle of tequila. Or even smoke a shit ton of weed and do a good eighth of shrooms.” She grinned. Both of which she had done and survived to tell the tale! Goodness, she was going to be the most scandalous Queen of England ever! “Besides, if there’s one person who would make the most perfect and eligible pimp, I would have to say it’s you. At least you’re a classy-dressed pimp and easy on the eyes to boot. But don’t worry Ben, I’m not hitting on you. Though I can at least appreciate the fine form of an almost-perfect male specimen before me.”

Finishing off her fries, and without so much as even asking because she was still hungry, she reached for his half-uneaten burger that remained and began to chow down on it. She was glad that he thought she would be a high priced prostitute if she ever truly were one—not that she planned to be, no she apparently had bigger plans in her cards as the supposed future Queen of England—and even more, that she could make a mighty fine geisha. She grinned at his comment, her mouth full of burger and she quickly chewed so she could swallow. “I highly doubt there is any woman so beautiful enough as to tempt or sway a gay man who is dead set on being with another man.” She grinned. “But I’ll take the compliment anyways. I may like to flaunt, but I’ve always been a classier sort of flaunter, not explicitly obvious.” In other words, Sky liked to seduce, taunt, goad and tease with more actions rather than her appearance. She liked to tempt with confidence rather than scantily clad clothes. Suffice to say, she was not opposed to scantily clad clothes. It all just depended on the situation and the opportune moment.

Finishing the burger, she picked up her napkin and wiped her mouth, setting the crumpled piece on her empty plate. She took her milkshake and started to sip it, thinking on his question. “Hmm…” She pulled back from her shake and pursed her lips. There wasn’t much thinking necessary. He was clearly a James Bond than Austin Powers. She never was a fan of Austin Powers to begin with because it was just too ridiculous. While she knew that was the point, she just couldn’t enjoy it. “I’m kidding. That’s a no-brainer. You’re clearly a James Bond. You’re not a satire of an MI6 agent.” She grinned. “Plus, you have the good humor to boot which James Bond was always known for, aside from being devilishly handsome, a total ladies’ man with the good moves and charm and the impeccably skilled in his job.” She said softly. “Personally, I love pinstripes on a man. I think they’re so sexy, very 60s kind of dashing and I do think more men should wear them. But I think you’d look good with either, but if we’re asking about my favorite on you, I’d say pinstripe.” She giggled.

Finishing her shake, Sky shook her head. “Goodness, it sounds like we’re hitting on each other. Talk about really playing the part of a pimp and a hooker, flirting and whatnot. Tell me, do you always flirt with the women you’re protecting or get associated with for your job? Are you a real James Bond, Ben?”
 
The woman, already very easy on the eye, was turning out to be pleasant company as well, and the reasons for their being together and recent violent events were pushed, momentarily, to the back of his mind. Although, it was impossible to forget that he was sitting across the table from the future Queen of England. If he did his job right.

A smile lit up the man's features as he pushed his plate aside, glad he didn't ask for the jumbo-burger, and wiped the mess of sauce that had exploded from off his chin, with a napkin. "You don't want me to stop, so does that mean the crown jewels are no longer at stake, if I refer to you as a hooker again? Ben raised an eyebrow, "My crown jewels, I mean, yours are safely secured in the Tower of London." The man grinned, and instinctively reached out to stop Schuyler from stealing his burger, but, as with Earl Grey tea earlier, he was too slow, and decided once again to let it slide, mentally composing a note to increase his physical training regime. The Spy's reflexes appeared to have slowed.

"Stupid things, such as driving without a licence?, he instead asked, sitting back in his seat, and lifting his ginormous mug of coke. What was it with these Americans, didn't they make anything normal-sized?" He maintained his gaze on Schuyler, and the smirk on his face, when he placed the mug back down, held a hand up as it to tell her he didn't require an answer, and continued. "Or just dressing up in slutty clothing, and teasing International spies? Maybe I'll never know, but because after last night's effort, I was considering two hotel rooms for the night. It'd be safer. For me."

As she did, the man taunted, though his expression belied the fact that he was interested, and possibly already envisaging how she'd look in those clothes. "However, if it'd please future royalty, I could force myself to endure the variety performance, and another evening in your company." He pursed his lips, contemplating it, and allowed his gaze to slide briefly down her body, before they lifted back to her face. "Though, no alcohol or weed, because, as you mentioned, I'm a classy pimp. Plus, Schuyler Lassiter, you're enough of a handful sober." Ben realised, not only that it was true, but that he'd meant the words as a compliment, and hoped she'd receive them in the same manner.

Finished with his meal, he winced and shook his head when she dipped a fry into her shake, but then reminded himself that she'd probably do the same when she witnessed him dig into a steak-and-kidney pie floating in a bed of mushy peas, accompanied by a room-temperature warm lager, and for once kept his mouth shut. It remained shut until her next comment elicited a full-blown laugh, that caused the customers three tables over to stare at them, and the attention confirmed the fact that, regardless of how much he was enjoying the conversation, they needed to leave.

"I prefer pin-stripes myself, though I've been told I look even better out of a suit, than I do in." The spy winked, Sky wasn't the only one who could boast about her physique, then scraped back his chair, and made all the appropriate motions to leave. Hopefully it'd inspire Schyler to do the same without argument. Standing from his chair, he gazed down at her, then for some unknown reason, he stole a fry from her plate, dipped it into her shake, and popped it in his mouth, before she could stop him.

It actually didn't taste too bad, though he wasn't going to admit that out loud. "We should go." Ben stepped around the table, not forgetting the shopping bags at his feet, and gently touched Sky's shoulder. He smiled as he tugged on her arm, and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I'll be James Bond, as long as you promise to be my Pussy Galore," before he stood back up with a satisfied smirk on his face. "I hope that wasn't considered flirting, Ms Lassiter, as fraternising is against Government Policy. Now, are you ready to leave. I've an old CIA colleague, retired, a couple of day's drive away, who'll be able to assist with safe passage to Britain."
 
A grin formed on her face. “Then I suppose I can promise to amend my earlier fascination with abusing your jewels for at least one night. But…if you really want to have separate rooms, I guess I won’t argue. I would hate for you to decide to pick up your things and leave me to rot or die in that hotel room because you couldn’t stand another night of abused jewels.” She sighed with feigned forlorn attitude, but understood well enough. It might be a good idea after all. Who knew what could happen if they were in another hotel room together, with only one bed and minimal privacy. They could end up doing something that they both might regret just because all the action from the past couple of days pushed them in bed together for some kind of comfort. And by them, she meant herself because right now the very idea of getting in bed with Agent Ben was very attractive because lord knew she could definitely use that kind of comfort.

Taking her mind out of that particular gutter, she tilted her head as she dipped her second to last French fry into her milkshake, letting it sit there as he came back with his own responses about pin stripe suits. Her lips curled up into a grin and Sky let her gaze rake over his form, as if silently imagining if he would really look out of a suit of any type or not. Yes, she firmly believed he would. And she needed to stop because they could not do that. That type of thing was not allowed to happen. Why forge a bond like that when it would only prove disastrous in the end? Was the future Queen of England even allowed to consort with an MI6 agent? No, she doubted that. Then again, it’s not like it would have mattered. She was already a scandal just waiting to happen with her lack of virtue. “I think you’re flirting with me now Agent.” It didn’t even faze her that he stole her last fry and dipped it into her milkshake. He should taste it. It was the best thing ever. And she knew he thought the same but wouldn’t admit it. Because honestly, what person wouldn’t love a fry dipped into their milkshake?

As he made the motions to leave, she followed suit and threw her garbage away but held onto her milkshake. It wasn’t even half empty. There was still plenty to enjoy. Turning, she looked at him and smiled gently. “It was flirting but don’t worry Mr. Bond, your secret is safe with your very own Pussy Galore.” She leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before slinking her free arm with his, further putting up the charade of a pimp and his whore. “Shall we then? If we plan to make it to your CIA friend alive, we should go now before we get ourselves into any more trouble. We can always save a different kind of trouble for later. Private. Our of the public’s eye. Out of the British government’s eye. Because let’s be honest here, I am great at keeping secrets. But what I won’t keep secret is a particular longing to really be your Pussy Galore.” She said all of that without even a moment’s hesitation or flinching but with all the confidence she did still have in her.

After all, what did she have to lose? Dignity? Pride? Please, not even a rejection could actually faze her right now after the journey she had so far. It’d be child’s play in comparison, maybe something to look forward to after the rough ride since the moment her mother was shot in the forehead. It made no real logical sense but to her it made all the sense in the world. Why prolong the tension? Why must they sit across from each other flirting like there was no tomorrow and not potentially act upon it?

For all the wrong reasons in the world and currently after them.
 
"No, Schuyler, the issue is that if you carelessly mistreat my Jewels again, you'll be required to atone, by polishing them until they're as good as new. As promised." His grin matched hers, and Ben rolled his blue eyes at the forlorn expression passed across her features. If not a dancing career, or one as the Queen of England, Ms Lassiter could ensure future fame as an actress. It was simply her misfortune that he was a trained spy, who could right through the facade. "Unfortunately, as much I'd savour my privacy, I'm required to fulfill my duties, and ensure your safety, That means keeping an eye on you, twenty four hours a day." Not an onerous task, concluded the spy, as those eyes dipped to appraise her form, lingering on the swell of breasts under the white trench-coat, then returned to her face.

Milk dripping from his lips, and crunching the fry between his teeth, Ben was tempted to steal another, but then that'd provided evidence he'd enjoyed the first, and he'd swiftly learned providing Sky deliberate ammunition of her taunts was not such a good idea. She did just fine on her own. At least the woman didn't argue when he motioned that it was time to leave, and stood without complaint, although the kiss on the cheek, as chaste as it was, came as a not unpleasant surprise. The words that accompanied them, elicited a laugh, and he couldn't help but draw back a hand, and issue another smack to her delectable ass, when she slipped her arm between his.

Still talking, and completely unaware that five minutes ago, a Helicopter had landed on a sporting field adjacent, releasing a half-dozen, combat-ready Russian rebels, armed with uzi's, and one with a sniper rifle, Ben maneuvered his companion towards the mall exits. "Her Royal Highness, Pussy Galore The First, Queen of The British Empire", does have a nice ring to it. Even those in the cultural backwater of North America might grow to love you." Ben winked. "However, I believe the last commoner who dared to bed Her Majesty, was beheaded?" The spy arched a brow, hoping that Sky didn't know her royal history any better than he did. It was just as possible that man had been knighted, though ignorance didn't stop Ben from continuing. "But then, so was the last who disobeyed her express commands, so you really have me in a bind, Ms Lassiter."

The grin widened, "Is it best for me to ignore your wishes, displeasure you, and risk losing my head, or instead, if you insisted, would I." Pausing for effect, Ben allowed his gaze to admiringly wander her body, before he met her eyes to finish his sentence. "Pleasure your Pussy. Galore?" Emphasising the sentence, and exuding the confidence that he'd be certainly capable of doing so, the spy shrugged, then made one of the biggest mistakes of his career. Briefly allowing his gentlemanly English instincts to over-ride his training, when they reached the doors leading outside, he unlocked their arms, and chivalrously motioned with his hand. "Ladies first."
 
“I do believe I have offered to atone by polishing them with my mouth until they are new. But you decided against that. So…how else is a girl supposed to get her jollies and fascination with balls out of her system?” Waggling her eyebrows, their things were gathered, they were ready to go and it seemed both were on the tipping point of what they could do to each other, alone, in private, away from prying eyes and just how much trouble they could get into. To be quite honest, it was something she wouldn’t mind experimenting on. Sure, they had just met but already in over twenty-four hours they had been through a lot with each other and under these strange circumstances, it wasn’t entirely off to grow an attraction like this and so quickly to boot!

As they walked toward the exit of the mall, she kept her eyes in front of her but her interest was piqued. Even going so far as to actually stop, remembering the spank to her bottom just before they did leave the food court and suddenly imagining a wild romp in the sack as Mr. Bond sent in his most ballistic missile into her pussy galore. Swallowing hard, Sky cleared her throat and looked up at him. “Oh I’m definitely insisting on the second option Mr. Bond.” She wondered if previous Bond Girls had ever been so forward in their intentions or what they expected from James Bond. Then again, of course they were. It was that confidence and allure of their stature and how they carried themselves that made Mr. Bond gravitate toward them in the first place.

Giving silent thanks as he opened the door for her, she stepped out and turned her back to the awaiting onslaught and faced him, though the reflection in the glass doors helped. Not that she saw it though. “And if you were to deny me, then I’d have cause to give the order of—“ She cut off when her gaze went to the reflection of the glass door and her eyes widened. “Duck!” Rather than ducking though, she threw herself right at Ben to push him back into the building, just as she heard a shot being fired.

The bullet went right through the flap of her trench coat and collided into the glass panel of the door next to the one she hurled them both through. As she landed on top of him, glass shattered around them and she breathed deeply. “Well this isn’t exactly the way I intended you getting under me.” And somehow, through the danger of yet another attack, she was able to find humor in the situation. Apparently the first two situations numbed her of such fear and right now all she wanted to do was just laugh. It was strange how adrenaline could work. Or she was delusional now.

Scurrying off of him, she stayed low, especially as shots fired into the glass panels, shattering it all around them. It was chaotic and along with Ben, she scrambled back into the mall. It would people in danger but the mall was going to have to go on lockdown as it is. So the mall was going to have to suffice for their escape. A maze.

“Come on. I have an idea.” She grabbed his hand and ran back into the building, running but taking an unorthodox zig-zag approach. It might get them killed but considering they had the head start, she was really hoping dying would be not an option today.
 
Too consumed with pondering whether Sky would live up to her promises and be as interesting in bed as she'd made herself out to be, before concluding the answer was yes, Ben missed the glimmer of sunlight reflecting off a rifle barrel as they exited the Mall. "If a woman is to lead her Country, and be respected by her subjects, Ms Lassiter, then she does need to keep her word." Winking, the man was amazed that, with what had occurred in the past twenty-four hours, and their lives on the line until they were safely ensconced in England, he could enjoy himself so much. Or that he anticipated the dangerous necessity of breaking their journey to obtain a hotel-room and recharge their batteries much more than he really should.

Particularly when sleep was not on the stated agenda, and they'd possibly be required to remain an additional night in the same location in order for him to recover from the galore of pussy. Though, that brought another thought to mind. With Sky's constant references to James Bond, would a cheap hotel-room suffice? Or would the Future Queen of England be content with nothing less than sex on a jet-ski, in a hot-tub, or bent over the trunk of an Aston Martin, whilst he nonchalantly sipped on a shaken, but not stirred, dry Martini? He did have a reputation to uphold for the men of Britain. "I'd expect nothing less of you," he replied, shaking his head to clear his mind, before he reacted instinctively to scream, flinging his arms out to capture her as she screamed, and they tumbled to the floor, amidst shattering glass. "Fuck."

Swiftly recognising what had happened, and having fallen behind a cement pillar, Ben glanced at exit to ensure there was no imminent danger, as people around them began to scream and sprint towards the exits, then shot a smile at Sky. "I guess the Hooker disguise didn't fool them, Pity, because I was fond of it, however, to hear that you're a woman who likes to ride does compensate somewhat. But now's probably not the time."

Her humour in the situation was infectious, and he responded as his gaze darted around the building, noting three men in hoods, armed with Uzi's, converging on the entrance, and followed her lead. Pushing himself off the floor, Ben ran beside her, and with a cacophony of screams, machine-gun fire, shattering glass, and metal ricocheting off metal filling the air, it struck him that the first shot had been different. Just the one, and from a sniper rifle, which had been fired before his colleagues were in place. Amateurs, according to Ben, therefore not the Russian Mafia, British MI6, FBI or the CIA. So, who the hell were these guys?

That question remained unanswered, but the amateurish origins were reinforced when two men in black masks burst through the side entrance. Obviously, having viewed too many Hollywood movies; where the bad-guys needed to be easily distinguishable from the good-guys, because the producer and director thought their audiences too fucking stupid to be able to tell the difference otherwise; if they'd been attired in civilian clothes, he might not have recognised the danger until it was too late. Instead, their dress immediately gave them away, and as Ben and Sky zig-zagged across the floor, he planted a slug in the centre of each one's forehead.

"Wait." Screaming at Schuyler and panting for breath, he tugged on her hand, and motioned for her to stop, before changing his mind. Ben had no idea where she was taking them, but as a woman, she was likely to know the layout of a shopping centre much better than he - credit where credit is due.

Then, his mind changed again, for, at that moment, the domed skylight of the mall ceiling splintered, and the noise of Helicopter rotors drowned out even that emanating from the stampeding crowd and bullet fusillade as men in ninja suits, a slightly different shade of black separating this group from their initial assailants, zip-lined down. Occupants released, the Chopper swung in the air, machine-gun turrets searching for a target, and skids within reachable distance if they could make it unharmed to the top floor. "That's our way out.
 
Sky was thinking on impulse with the zig-zag approach. She figured if they weren’t running in a single directional form, then it would be more difficult for their shooters to gun them down. Not impossible, but they would have to try harder and really prove they were hot shots. But she reckoned it could only work for so long. That and when Ben told her to wait, she did but they were quickly in motion again as bullets splintered past them, or toward them, which proved that the zig-zag approach was working in a sense, because they certainly did doge that bullet. This time at least.

Hiding behind a cement column, she caught her breath, leaning into him subconsciously for some sort of hidden comfort that even she hadn’t been aware of. But her gaze went to where his went. A helicopter burst through the dome skylight and people came down from it. They were like ninjas. She inwardly groaned. Was this never going to end?!

Things didn’t seem to be looking so well for them. But Ben was determined that the helicopter would be their way out. Now it was just a matter of figuring out how to get to the top floor of the mall and to commandeer that thing. As ninjas and more of the mercenaries neared toward their location, she looked up to Ben. An idea came to her. “Come on.” She grabbed his hand and started running again, only this time she went straight for the elevator, hurling them both in just as the doors were about to shut, and just as two armed mercenaries could have jumped in. It was a steel encased elevator, so as it took them to the top floor, she was offered a moment of reprieve. And a chance to explain.

“Okay so we need that helicopter, right? Then you go and get control of it and I will distract the men that want to kill us.” She could see him building up a rapport to shut that idea down but she quickly silenced him by pressing her index finger to his lips. “Don’t. Okay? We can’t get there together. Not with that many shooting at us. And sure, it is your mission to bring me safely to England but you’re just one man. So let me use some of my…” She withdrew her finger from his lips and began to unbutton the trench coat she wore, just in time to expose some of that very generous cleavage that was popping out of her cropped shirt, slowly revealing what he told her to conceal before they came here. “Assets.” She smiled slowly, seductively even.

They were almost to the top floor so she stepped back toward the door, keeping her trench coat closed the rest of the way but it was fully unbuttoned now. “When the doors open, you’re going to commandeer that helicopter. That is what you will do immediately while I cover you.” She nodded her head. “I won’t die. And if I do, then I just saved England from meeting a scandal ten times worse than Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard.” She grinned.

And before any more potential protests could come, the elevator doors opened and she could already hear quickened footsteps getting louder as they neared them. “Go.” She turned and stepped out of the elevator, just as four mercenaries, followed by six ninjas in the rear came near her. As she raised her hands, the lapels of the trench coat she wore parted, revealing what was underneath the shapeless and dull garment. Even with the masks on, she saw eyes fall downward to what was revealed.

Before Ben made her put that trench coat on, she had tied her flannel plaid button down up beneath the bottom of her breasts, pushing them up and allowing then to be a sight for sore eyes more than her bra could have done--though she was wearing a bra too. It showed a lot of her stomach, flat, softly toned, slender but curvy, all the way leading down to the shorts she wore, low on her hips, soft lace of her panties’ waistband peeking out, a teasing black color.

Sky was able to walk through the ten men, their gazes following her movements as she carefully shed the trench coat completely off of her body, falling down onto the ground and leaving her rather scantily clad in front of these men. Her hands raised as she turned to face them, a silent surrender, and with their backs to the elevator, she hoped that Ben would take the hint to start his portion of their plan. The helicopter.

“Don’t shoot her, lads.” The mercenary who was facing right in front of her at the front of the pack spoke, his voice accented heavily. European, maybe Eastern European. “We can have our fun with her before we kill her, can’t we? See if the supposed future Queen is a virgin or not. After all, she is American and those American doxies are quite the trollops.” Ripples of chuckles and laughter came from the group and Sky took that moment of their guard dropping to smile slowly.

She hiked herself up, using the front man’s shoulder to push her up and over to land behind him, a dance move she had perfected with her dance partner. That was when she saw the grenades on his back via a sash he wore to keep them in place. But the pins...they were exposed.

Sky worked fast and pulled them all and then tried to make her escape when one of the ninjas grabbed her and tried to keep her in place, they all seeming to be oblivious to what she had just done. Kicking the ninja away from her, pins still in hand, she did a string of back flips away from them and when she was far enough, she turned and dropped the pins.

They realized and that was when she started to run, while they all either tried to scatter or help the one mercenary get the sash off of him. She ran like her life depended on it, because really it did. And Sky knew the grenades went off when a force of impact that reverberated from the blow pushed her forward, too quickly in fact, pitching her over the trailing that looked down on the bottom floors of the mall. Quickly, she grabbed the railing just before she would have fallen to her death and screamed, a wash of heat from the grenade’s fire hitting over. She felt her hands burn a little but she did not dare let go, even when that was all she wanted to do. “Ben!” She screamed, just as the gust of fire and heat dispersed and she was trying with all her might to grab a footing to pull herself up.

That went well. Not exactly as she planned but what could she say? If her future as a queen failed and as a dancer went up in flames, she could always stake a claim in improv. Because she totally improvised the hell out of whatever plan she may or may not have had to begin with in all of this in that moment. Now did any Bond Girl ever pull this kind of heist?! No. Not until Schuyler Lassiter came along!
 
Watching the machine gun turret slowly turn towards them, Ben was in a quandary of exactly how to make it to their destination without being shredded to pieces, when Sky grabbed his arm. Bullets ricocheted around them, and there didn't appear to be a clear path, even if they continued to ziz-zag. Then he noted their one opportunity, however, Sky had beaten him to it, and before he could open his mouth, she'd already commenced to drag them towards the opened doors of the elevator; a slug furrowing his scalp as the metal doors closed behind them. "Fuck, that was a little." Weapon in hand, he urged the car to move faster, and checked himself in the mirrored rear wall patted down his newly-parted hair, and forced a smile when he turned to face Schuyler. "Hair-raising."

The joke intended to calm the woman before they exited on the top floor, and were once more in the midst of a war zone, the Spy swiftly realised it hadn't really been required. Sky seemed to be even more composed than he was, and a quick-thinker to boot. Nodding as she spoke, and keeping one eye on the floor numbers flashing past on the LED display, his full attention was soon drawn to her. 'What the fuck?" Shaking his head, the man's eyes followed her movements, even at a time like this, lingering on the revealed cleavage a moment longer than was totally appropriate, before he refocused on her face, and gripped Schuyler's shoulder. "Are you kidding me?"

His expression changed when the elevator bell dinged; it wasn't like he had a better plan. "What the hell, it just might work." Hardly able to believe he'd said that, the doors opened, leaving him no chance to regret it before he jumped out, and called back over his shoulder. "You better not die when I'm just beginning to like you. And don't forget those valuable assets now belong to the United Kingdom."

Rushing forward, Ben missed Sky's shedding of her trench-coat, but not the group of rebels eyes widening, and pupils opening in shock, and some other, more lustful expression, as he allowed his legs to buckle under him. The MI6 agent's ass ass hit the floor, and forward momentum drove his feet into the knees of two men, sending them tumbling like bowling pins. Once through, and clear on the other side, he backflipped to his feet, and left Sky to deal with the rest.

"Shit." Spotting the barrel of a gun aimed directly at his head, the Spy immediately hit the floor again, this time initiating a forward triple-somersault, and a slug whizzed in the air where Ben's brain would have been, simultaneously as he slammed his head into the man's stomach, eliciting a surprised groan, and sent him catapulting over the railing. A scream following all the way behind him, until it abruptly stopped when his body impacted the ground floor with enough force to break every bone. However, the spy didn't pause to witness the landing.

Instead, as the man fell, he'd slipped the knife from the scabbard on his belt, turned, twisted, and hurled it end over end, impaling the heart of the ninja who stood on the skids of the helicopter. The Russian's death throes caused his finger to jam on the trigger of his weapon, and shoot a hail of bullets into the air, before he fell forward, and hung upside down off the skids, suspended by one foot. He was the last, and with the path cleared, Ben's instinctual reaction was to stop and assist Sky behind him, but as he turned to do so, the Helicopter pilot, obviously aware of their intent, began to lift the aircraft towards the roof line. Five or ten seconds and it'd be out of his reach, so she'd need be left to her own devices.

Certain, at least, that Schuyler remained alive, by the banter he heard, he could only think, "at least they didn't call her a hooker", before sprinting towards the chopper. No gymnastics on this occasion. As soon as he gained leverage, Ben clambered up, avoiding the boot that attempted to stomp his fingers, hooked the man's ankle with one arm, and dumped him on his ass, then entered the cockpit, and planted a bullet in his head. At that precise moment an explosion ripped through the air.

His heart sunk, and Ben was consumed with a sense of failure, as his gaze searched for what remained of Schuyler Lassiter. Flames and amputated limbs shot out from a cloud of smoke, and he consoled himself with the fact that at least she'd gone painlessly, and taken a few with her. Then, a female voice split the air, screaming his name, and a huge smile broke out on his face. He should have known she wouldn't have gone that easily. However, his pleased expression swiftly dissipated when he noted her precarious location, and the throng of machine-gun wielding thugs remaining on the lower floors.

There was no way he could both retain control of the chopper and run to her aid, so he scanned the area to find a solution. "Hang on Sky, I've an idea." Ben's gaze landed on the dead Russian hanging off the skid. Acting swiftly, he removed the knife embedded in his chest, sliced at the man's clothing, then kicked him over the edge, met Sky's eyes, and tossed the leather harness, attached to a thick nylon rope, he'd been wearing, in her direction, expertly landing it two inches away. "Clamber into that," he screamed over the cacophonous noise of the rotors, and glanced over his shoulder. "And hurry." Two dark specks had appeared on the horizon, headed towards them.

All Ben could hope as he ensured his end of the rope was securely fastened to the frame of the chopper, then dropped into the pilot's chair, placed his hand on the throttle, and began to raise the aircraft higher, in order to facilitate their escape before further company arrived, was that Sky's dance training incorporated climbing practice. Or she'd be left dangling in the air, like a worm at the end of a fisherman's hook, until he could dare stop to assist. At least the two disparate groups of assailants were now apparently too occupied shooting at each other that it appeared they'd momentarily forgotten their real quarry. Fucking amateurs!
 
It was surprising that even in the midst of danger, their humor didn’t seem to wain. She kept those thoughts with her as a motivation to keep holding on, no matter how badly her hands stung. Hopefully by this point Ben commandeered that helicopter and was hovering by soon. The sounds of machine guns being fired broke through the silence after the grenades went off, ripples of bullets shooting in the air. They were near her and though she couldn’t do much but dangle and wait for imminent death, she just hoped that none of those bullets got her.

Except one did. Well not embedded into her leg thankfully. More like a graze. Then another just on the side of her hip and she cried out in pain, her arms shaking. She could hear Ben from above and daring to look, she was glad to see he had control of that damn chopper. A final bullet wedged itself into her arm just as he dropped that harness attached to a rope at her level. Even though she screamed in pain, it worked out to her favor when she suddenly let go of the railing after being shot in the arm, but her hands clutched onto the harness, saving her fall.

Breathing hard, Sky didn’t bother wrangling herself into the harness. She just held onto it and though her arm throbbed, as did every other part of her body, especially where she was grazed, not to mention the backs of her hands that still stung tremendously from being burnt, Sky started to heave herself up, climbing up the rope so she could get into that chopper and they could make their famous getaway that would put any action sequence and epic getaway in the movie industry to shame!

More bullets flew past her and thankfully she was able to dodge them. She had just made it to the bars of the helicopter, reaching out to grab onto it with one hand when a bullet hit the rope, slicing it through. She grabbed onto the bars with both hands now, crying out when the fast momentum of it stretched her arms so much, it felt like one of them fell out of its socket. Still though, adrenaline pumped through her which pushed her to keep on going until she was safely inside of that cockpit with Ben. She was not going to die today and England would just have to deal with her and the scandal she brought with her, ten times more scandalous than the first divorce, separation from the Catholic church, Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard combined!

Finally climbing into the cockpit, Sky made quick work to buckle herself up and once she was secure, she panted hard. Her entire body was licked with sweat, also throbbing from that much of a work out. Never had she worked that hard in her dance training. She was really going to feel this tomorrow. As the adrenaline faded and the numbness in her pain left her, she clutched her arm where the bullet was embedded into and groaned softly, tilting her head back against the seat. “Figures I wouldn’t just enjoy grazes but an actual bullet lodged in some part of me!” She practically growled it out. If she knew how to fire a gun, especially a machine gun, she’d shoot all those assholes. “It really hurts!”

Opening her eyes was a massive struggle when all she wanted to do was just pass out from the pain shooting all over her body. “Get us out of here Ben. I’ll take a nap in the meantime.” Which considering the extent of her injuries--though not lethal--was still probably not a good idea. “Wake me up when this nightmare is over.” Playfulness and all euphemisms gone, Sky was ready to go back to her life before all this shit started. She was done being a ‘Bond Girl’ and wanted nothing more than to go back to her life where she never got so up close and personal to death, guns and bullets lodged in her arm!
 
Unlike Schuyler, and the vehicle in the hotel parking lot, Ben Roberts did possess a pilot's licence, although it had been quite a while since he'd assumed control of an aircraft. With his hand on the throttle, and beads of sweat dripping from his forehead, the struggled to maintain the aircraft's equilibrium, and winced as bullets pinged off metal and glass. "Come on Sky, come on, you can do it."

His gaze wandered from the assailants on the floors of the mall, to the black specks approaching in the air from behind, but mostly remained focused on the Future Queen's struggles. "Grab it." Urging the woman on, he swore aloud, then erupted with a cheer when she finally managed to grip onto the harness. "And don't fucking let go." Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he raised the Chopper higher in the air, banked to the right, and got the hell out of dodge, confident that Schuyler, who hadn't failed him so far, would manage to clamber up into the cockpit.

The building began to recede in the distance, and he sighed in relief when the black specks he'd been concerned about hindering their escape, appeared to have missed it, and converged on the mall, before Sky's head popped over the edge. Bleeding, bruised, and with her hands scorched, she looked as if she'd just escaped a horror movie, but a quick appraisal of her wounds, and the amount of bleeding consoled Ben that, although painful, there was no imminent danger of death. Though medical attention would be required and the sooner, the better.

When she'd climbed in, and buckled up, he reached over, and gripped her shoulder, shouting over the noises of the rotors. "Just stay with me, your wounds aren't life-threatening, but we've got to stop and get that slug out. Do NOT sleep." He forced a smile, and indicated behind him with his head. "Or you won't get your presents." In the rack behind the pilot's chair, sat three shopping bag, replete with their mall purchases. During the entire episode, he hadn't dared let go, for fear of Schuyler's wrath.

Busy piloting, he hoped she'd try to stay awake, but there was nothing he could do, with his attention darting between the sky, and the ground, and mind occupied with finding a way out of their current dilemma. They couldn't afford to stay in the air for much longer, and attract the attention of US Military aircraft. Then his gaze landed on a thick, green canopied forest that stretched on for as far as the eye could see, and the answer struck.

Aware enough to know that hunting season was over, he appraised the rooftops of the small huts and cottages that sparsely dotted the landscape, checked the radar to ensure there were no aircraft in the vicinity, and dipped the nose of the chopper. Five minutes later, spotting no signs of life or activity on the way down, he glanced at Sky, unsure if she were awake or asleep, and screamed. "Hold on, coming in for landing."

Tree branches snapped, cracked, and whipped against the helicopter as Ben descended into a clearing barely large enough for the aircraft, causing it to bounce and shake. Eventually, after fully breaking through the canopy, the skids settled on dirt, and the Spy emitted a relieved cackle of laughter, pleasantly surprised the aircraft hadn't exploded in a ball of fire, and switched off the engine. "You know, I've always wanted my own cabin in the woods," the man joked before splashing cold water from a bottle left by the pilot in her face.

His actions and tone not as sympathetic as could have been expected Ben dropped from the cockpit to terra firma, walked around to Shy's side, and released her seatbelt. "Wakey, wakey. Can you walk, or do I have to carry you?" The danger hadn't passed yet. Ben still needed to ensure the area was indeed desolated, and the cabin in the distance, vacant, and he'd feel much better about his chances of winning any confrontation with an shotgun-carrying illegal poacher, or out-of-season hunter, if he was carrying his own weapon in hand, rather than Schuyler Lassiter. Safety now, compassion later.
 
Her only response to his urging she did not sleep and the promise of her ‘gifts’--not so much gifts but necessities unless he was talking about the slutty get up he included in the purchase--was a grunt before she turned her head, letting it rest on her shoulder and her eyes closed. She couldn’t keep them open, no matter how hard she tried. Her eyelids felt like they weighed a ton and it just felt so good to close them. Even better as sleep found her and the pain she felt sort of just numbed away as she fell deeper and deeper into a nice sleep. A sleep where she could escape the horrors of her current and new reality, a sleep where she could dream of a time when her life wasn’t like this, a sleep where she saw her mom.

Goodness, she looked so beautiful. Smiling, laughing and as the image of her cleared even more, Sky was delighted to see her father beside her mother, his arm around her and his lips pressed to her temple. In her dream, they were back together as if they had never been apart and it was a beautiful sight to see. They both then turned and saw Sky and she laughed and also cried just seeing them. Their arms opened to her and she ran into them. It was such a good feeling to be back with them, she was so close she could already feel the warmth of their arms encircling her. Her mother’s gentle and nurturing love, her father’s warm and comforting embrace--Schuyler Lassiter was almost home.

Just before she could find her home again in their arms, something pulled her back and she screamed, her arms stretched out before her as if trying to stretch them further so she could just touch her parents again. The entire scene around her turned very black and men in all black with guns in their hands surrounded her. Their guns pointed at her and there was a call in a foreign language. It sounded Ukrainian. No, it wasn’t that, it was a Russian dialect! And then the shots fired.

Just before one of the bullets could touch her, Sky came awake with a startling jolt, her entire body wracking with pain, her face wet with sweat. No, that wasn’t sweat. That was...water? The asshole threw water in her face! Oh his crown jewels were going to need ice tonight! She groaned softly, clutching her injured arm again, the pain of that far greater than the pain anywhere else, and she looked about. The helicopter was landed and Ben was no longer in the pilot’s seat.

She gasped when his voice came from beside her and she looked at him, eyes wide, heart pounding. One would think that water in the face would have brought all her awareness and senses to the forefront but apparently with her, she wasn’t the most conventional thing to begin with. Narrowing her eyes into a menacing glare, she huffed, untangling herself from the four-way seatbelt and climbed out of the chopper, nearly falling after both her feet touched the ground because of the graze in her leg. “I’m fine.” She mumbled, a little ungratefully. Okay, perhaps he wasn’t being that bad but she would not forgive him right now for throwing water in her face.

Seeing a cabin in the distance, thankfully, Sky started her way toward it, albeit rather slowly with the limp she had going on. That and her entire body hurt with a fierce vengeance, it was a miracle she could even make herself move. “Agent Asshole.” She grumbled loud enough for him to hear. “Oh, let’s just throw some water in Madame Queen’s face. That ought to fix all the problems.” She hissed, talking to herself but not taking calm approach to be silent about it. No, she wanted him to hear. Just because she was eighteen didn’t mean she exactly prided herself in being mature. She was a Lassiter after all--though that meant she was supposed to be mature--but she was also her father’s daughter and though he had bought his seat in the House of Lords, he was perhaps the most boyish, immature asshole that England could have know. Clearly that was before he met Agent Asshole over there. “But no!” She roared. “It doesn’t fix anything. I’ve been shot. I have killed. I have been shot even more. My hands are burnt. There are crazy, psychopathic nutcases that want my head and I am stuck with an Agent Asshole who doesn’t know the word compassion!”

Giving up, and not caring that she was yelling out in the open when they weren’t entirely safe yet for sure from danger, not to mention the fact she didn’t care she was having a total meltdown in front of someone who didn’t care one bit, her knees buckled and she fell down into the dirt. Full, gut-wrenching and body shaking sobs escaped from her. Sky didn’t cry this much. She never had. Not since she was five and grew a spine. But no person, no lay person should have to endure this much struggle, pain and hardship so soon in their life. Sure, she knew other people in different countries had it way worse than her and for the entirety of their lives. That wasn’t supposed to be her. She could only handle so much. She was only one person. And after the dream she had that turned into a nightmare, all she wanted was to just curl up and hope that it was all a horrible nightmare, that she’d wake up and her mom would be pounding on her door so she would get her ass up from bed and get her day started.

But even as she sat there on her knees, clutching the dirty for some hold of sanity while tears poured down her cheeks, she knew it would never be. Nothing would ever be the same. She just needed time. She needed to let the wounds heal, even the physical ones. But it wouldn’t hurt if she had someone who could just give her an ounce of comfort for one minute, if not five, before all the sarcasm and witty banter came back. That was all she needed. She didn’t demand much, at least she tried not to. Even the strong girls had their down days and considering the past twenty-four hours, she had done well to keep it together.

This was just one of many breaking points she would likely face along the way. That was not her fault!
 
At least she hadn't slipped into a coma, elicited by blood loss, an adrenaline rush come down, and the shock at all that happened in the past twenty-four hours, which is what Ben had been afraid of, too busy piloting the helicopter to be able to assist, or keep her awake. Just a few more minutes, he'd kept telling himself, and then he'd take care of her, and attempt to put all right. From her reaction, after he'd thrown water in her face, causing her to unceremoniously glared at him, struggle from the Chopper, and mutter insults her breath, he'd just exponentially increased his need to apologise. Agent asshole indeed!

That utterance brought a quick smile to his lips - if she possessed the energy to berate him, she'd have enough to make it to the cabin on her own two feet. However, on this occasion, he sanely decided not to respond with sarcasm, for Sky's tone contained a note that told him that she was particularly serious. Instead, Ben threw her a shrug, surveyed the chopper, intending, once once they were safely ensconced in a cabin, to return and cover it with foliage, and slipped his gun from his holster, finger on the trigger.

A moment later, he almost shot himself in the foot, when suddenly, her yells split the silent forest air, causing the Spy to straighten in surprise. Small animals scurried through the bush, escaping Sky's thunderous rage. Oh, if only he could too! "Scream louder Sky, I don't believe people in the next County can quite hear you." A hiss escaped Ben's lips, and he scanned the area. "Shut-it."

Pulling his gaze back to her, waiting for her noise to attract the attention of a hunter, he opened his mouth to order her into silence again, then swiftly clamped it closed. He'd witnessed this before, and it'd be futile to attempt to try and calm the hysterics. The good news was that, if anyone was present in the hut nearby, their attention would have been attracted by now, but Ben had seen no movement. Possibly she'd done them a favour?

Ears burning, and free hand clenched, each hurled epithet sent a stab of remorse and regret through his heart, as what he'd been awaiting the entire day, happened. The unavoidable meltdown. It had just been a matter of time, and he could only be glad that it had waited until here, in the midst of the silent forest, rather than earlier, when it would have led to their instantaneous demise, and that had been his intent. There was reason behind his less than sympathetic treatment and continuous taunts, and that had been to keep her fired up, focused, and mind and body active, so that she wouldn't have too much time to actually think about it all, and collapse under the heavy emotional burden of all she'd endured. Not for his own pleasure or amusement.,

In fact, just the opposite, for all who knew Ben were aware that he was a man of principle, and compassion. That, behind his profession, and the mask it sometimes it required him to wear in order to fulfill a mission, he cared. That's why he'd the Spy game, and although the ends justified the means, at times the means were hard to bear. Particularly, when it came to a woman such as Schuyler Lassiter, who'd proved herself such a strong, capable young lady, with an intelligence and facility for banter he'd rarely encountered in his life.

She'd suffered so much through no fault of her own in such a short space of time, and here was now, a quivering, hysterical mess. On her knees on the forest floor, tears streaming down her face, hands burnt, bullet in her arm, a dead mother at home, and alone with a man meant to help her, who she likely thought didn't give a shit. For that latter, Ben had to assume responsibility, and provide reassurance with action, rather than words, that he did give a shit.

Confident now, that they were alone, his demeanour changed, and he allowed the inner Ben Roberts, to be revealed. Slipping the pistol back into it's holster, he approached Sky, and bent to his knees to meet her at eye level. The British accent took on a tone it hadn't displayed previously as he placed one hand on her back, rubbing it comfortingly, and cupped her face with the other to wipe away a tear. "I'm sorry." Forcing a small smile, he held her gaze with eyes that had softened with compassion. "We're safe now, you can let it all out. Everything. Scream and cry as much as you like, as much as you need to. Use Agent Asshole as a punching bag, if it helps." Continuing to whisper and console her, with both words and touch, he wiped away another tear, then slid his arms under her legs, the other around her waist, lifted Schuyler Lassiter off the ground, and carried her to the cabin.

Not bothering to check if the door was unlocked, he kicked it open, and stepped in. Small, but comfortably furnished, the main room contained an open-log fire, three-seat sofa, and two matching chairs, with hunting trophies prominently displayed on the walls. A kitchenette was attached on one side and three doors led to what Ben presumed were a bathroom and bedrooms. He lay Sky on the sofa, stretched and looked around, then focused back on her. "How about I remove that bullet, then you allow Agent Asshole to fire up the generator, and draw you a bath, whilst he prepares dinner?" It wouldn't be a five-course gourmet feast, but a quick glance at the kitchen revealed an ample supply of tinned goods.
 
Scream louder Sky, I don't believe people in the next County can quite hear you. She heard it but she didn’t care. It wasn’t that she couldn’t comprehend it. Oh she could comprehend a great deal right now but honestly, with the way she was feeling, if some scary poacher-hunter guy came out and began shooting, she’d just welcome it. She would see it as a reprieve, as an evil-angel showing her mercy and letting her join her mom and dad. She didn’t think it suicidal necessarily but rather the gruff, rough and tough reality of waking up from what was a dream that turned into a nightmare. Because right now, she wanted nothing more than to just die so she could curl up in the arms of her mom with her dad, see them together again, and live in peace beyond the physical plane.

But nothing happened. Bullets didn’t start flying. She didn’t die. Sky was still alive and just making a complete and utter fool of herself as she cried. But she couldn’t move. She’d sooner die before she asked for Agent Asshole’s help to stand and walk into the cabin but she just might have to. Her body had given out right now. She was in tremendous pain both physically and mentally and for someone who did not cry a lot, she had to be completely drained to just give up like this.

And then the unthinkable happened. It was the first sign, a hand on her back, followed by the familiar lilt of a British accent cooing so gently in her ear. First an apology which promptly melted the icy barricade around her heart and then such soft words of comfort, it really helped. It was exactly the five minutes of compassion she was looking for. Not from him specifically but just in general. And since he was the only one around her, she did need it from him. Sniffling and hiccuping a couple of times, she wiped her nose with the back of her burnt hand which only made her whimper in pain and looked at him, not even ashamed or embarrassed to be seen by a gorgeous MI6 while her eyes were puffy, and red and wet and her nose all runny. “Oh believe you me I will be using your balls as a punching bag tonight. All. Night. Long.” She emphasized as she sniffled harder, trying to suck up the runny boogies, though that wasn’t particularly tasty.

Even after that though, which was really an empty threat since she’d rather treasure his balls with her mouth and tongue all night long, he still offered her comfort, so much so that she stopped crying and wasn’t screaming anymore. Meltdown averted and quite beautifully if she did say so herself. Not that she would admit it right this moment out loud to him. Soon, Agent Asshole lifted her up into his arms and she hesitantly, more for show than anything else to let him think he was still in the doghouse, rested her head on his shoulder, cradling her burnt hands to herself.

The moment her back touched the couch, she felt instantly relaxed and stretched out, resting her head on a deliciously comfortable throw pillow. Looking up at him, she nodded her head, smiling faintly. “That sounds about right of what you should do.” Oh yeah, she was going to milk this, either until he took her over his knee and spanked the living sassy hell out of her or until he had his own little meltdown because she may or may not be attempting to take advantage of his kindness now. But really, what was expected of her at this point? She wasn’t going to attempt pulling a bullet out of her own arm, neither could she really do that with her burnt hands and it would help if she had someone to aid her with her injuries. Then after, she’d check to see if he had any injuries. It was only fair. She wasn’t a monster after all!

“But before you do fire up the generator, draw me a bath and cook dinner, I’ll check you over for any injuries you might have.” She was a bit level-headed now. Major meltdown over, logic and reason were returning back to her mind again. Enough to be able to show him some compassion to now since she was sure he could use some. Sure, he was an agent, a professional in this trade but he was still a person too.
 
Akin to virtually every member of the male persuasion, Ben Roberts was extremely uncomfortable in the presence of a distraught, crying woman. Although he'd faced up to, and taken down, a plethora of armed Russian mobsters, with barely a pause, or hint of fear, now he stood in the forest, teeth clenched, and consumed by nerves. Would he say the wrong thing and set her off again, or would his compassion, sincere as it was, not appear that way to Sky, and hinder rather than help?

Threatening to kick him in the balls was fine, even the act, if she followed through, though he didn't believe she meant it, as that was but physical pain, however, if she commenced screaming again, how the hell would he ever calm her down? A man with less intestinal fortitude may well have mentally covered his ears and closed his eyes, hoping beyond hope that the emotions would take of themselves, and she'd eventually stop, - the standard masculine response? - but Ben wasn't that man. Soon, his concern that he had no fucking clue abated when Schuyler sniffled, and allowed herself to be taken into his arms.

All he'd had to do was be himself, and Agent asshole felt a sense of internal pride as he entered the cabin and lay Sky on the sofa. She'd even smiled. "Well, you've been through a lot, Ms Lassiter." His tone remained soft, and there was a note of admiration in his words. "Honestly, not many, men or women, if any at all, would have coped with what you've endured, so I guess a little rest, recuperation, and possibly even some spoiling are in order." The Spy arched a brow, an amused expression passing across his features, as he'd sensed some of her cheekiness appeared to return, and wondered if she'd take advantage of his new found kindness. Ben would be surprised if she didn't, and his look, if she caught it, was intended to advise Schuyler that would happen only with his tacit agreement.

Leaning down, he caressed her cheek with his palm, and nodded. "I've a couple of grazes, nothing major, but it wouldn't hurt to have them looked at." He shot her a shrug, and ran his fingers through Sky's hair, thinking how regal she appeared, splayed on the sofa; a Queen awaiting her concubines. If he hadn't known she'd recently been shot, he'd never have guessed. Simultaneously, another thought struck. "However, I believe it best that I first turn on the generator, before running a bath, don't you?" Standing straight, he smiled. "Drawing you one full of ice-cold water might undo all the good work I've done. Don't move an inch, I'll sort it out."

A minute after he'd exited the back door, came the low buzz of a motor running, swiftly drowned out by the noises of kitchen cupboards opening and closing. Locating what he searched for, Ben approached Sky, dragging a kitchen chair along behind him, with a white medical kit and a bottle of clear liquid in hand. "Water should be warm enough in half an hour." Settling himself in front of the sofa, he opened the kit, removed bandages, ointment for her burns, and a pair of tweezers, concealing the last in his palm. "Why don't you drink a little of this." He popped the top off the bottle of Vodka, and held it out to Sky, wanting to provide a diversion as he reached out, and began to unbutton her trench-coat.

It was an action he'd envisaged performing, on numerous occasions throughout the day, but not under these particular circumstances. However, the resulting distraction, Ben realised, as a memory of the glimpse of her barely clad body he'd been graced with in the hotel room that morning, filled his mind, could be just the same. He coughed as he fumbled with the next button, requiring full access to her arm in order to remove the bullet. "This could hurt a little, so close your eyes, I promise not to look." Pulling the opened coat aside to reveal the toned, dancer's physique beneath, Ben didn't even know that he muttered the next, internal thought, out loud, "Or it'll be me that requires a cold shower." Nor that all other motion paused, whilst he licked his lips and stared in appreciation.
 
Just to put up the act even further at the mention of spoiling, Sky lifted her chin in a sort of defiant spoiled diva behavior and sniffed. “For once, and only this time once, I will admit that you are right. I do deserve some spoiling after being abused and broken by some mean weapons. And explosions.” Though that last one was probably her fault but it was a genius plan in her mind. It eliminated those men who were so easily swayed by the fine form of the female body. The very thought made her grin at how easy it was to get the higher ground on them. The burnt hands were so worth it!

As he cupped her cheek, she looked up at him with the most innocent doe-eyed expression nodded her head slowly. “I’ll look them over after you bandage me up.” He had a point about turning the generator on. “Yeah, I don’t think an ice cold bath is what my body needs.” She laughed softly. Probably a necessary thing to turn it on and she didn’t stop him as he went to do just that. Her head relaxed back on the pillow and her eyes fluttered closed. As realization of their safety dawned on her, her entire body relaxed and she almost fell asleep, the soft buzzing from the generator being turned on oddly lulling her. Until of course that sound was drowned out by the sounds of cabinets closing and her eyes fluttered open at the invasive sound. Sky even sat up, looking around as if there may be a clear and present danger. But she found none. Just Agent Asshole who had a first-aid kit in his hands and set up his presence in front of her in a chair.

Sitting up slowly, Sky swung her legs over the edge of the couch, bare skin showing as the trench coat she wore parted half way down to give way. Her eyes widened only slightly as he began to unbutton her coat and she relaxed, a slow, sexy little smile spreading onto her face. “Trying to get me drunk?” She teased, taking the vodka, though knowing full well what he was giving it to her for. There was a bullet in her arm. She’d need some alcohol to survive that pain. She took a swig and made a face as she swallowed, the acrid taste of vodka unnatural to her tastebuds. The warmth that came from it as it burned down her throat was definitely welcomed. A few more swigs and she’d feel so relaxed, she’d probably let him fondle her.

As her coat was unbuttoned fully, Sky was fully aware of her body exposed to him. The shirt she wore over her bra had been tied up under her bust, giving view to her bare, slightly toned stomach and abs. The shorts she wore rode low on her hips and even while sitting, her body still looked good, even under all the grime and wear and tear of the day. As she slid her arm out of the sleeve, the one that had a bullet embedded in the upper part, she winced softly, the cloth around the bullet entry severed and colored with clotted and dried blood.

That was when she realized he had stopped what he was doing and just staring at her. She caught wind of the words he muttered and her cheeks turned a little red. “Are you insinuating something rather suggestive there Mr. Secret Agent Man?” She grinned, her hand coming up to his chin, using one finger to push his face up where his gaze would meets hers. She smiled and leaned in. “Do you want to know what I think?” Her lips were dangerously close to his. Meltdown aside, and all the turmoil of the day, she still found a way to flirt and be seductive. That’s what she did. She did have five boyfriends after all.

“I think that after you take this bullet out of my arm, bandage me up and assess my other injuries and after I assess you, we should take a bath. Together. In the nude.” She grinned. “Why waste water after all? We need to...conserve resources.” She nodded her head slowly. “For the betterment of the Earth of course.” She giggled.
 
"You're enough of a handful sober, Ms Lassiter, getting you drunk is the last thing I'd ever attempt. So, take care that you don't, otherwise, I will dump you in that ice-bath later." Replying to her earlier comment after having located the generator, and setting the chair in front of Schuyler, Ben didn't quite mean all that he said. A smart-ass, sarcastic handful, sober, yes; surely two traits that would be exacerbated under the influence of liquor; but, also an exhibition well worth paying to see, no matter the potential consequences.

Handing her the vodka, he opened the medical kit, and nodded for Sky to drink. There might not be ample time for the vodka to enter her bloodstream, and relieve any potential pain his removal of the slug might induce, but hopefully the placebo effect would at least help soothe her emotions further. Emotions that, as far as he could judge, from the return of her baiting and mockery, were already lessening. Not that she particularly needed to mock the Spy, for Ben Roberts had always been a man capable of doing that to himself, generally unintentionally.

And that was soon proven, when his body froze, his tongue flicked over his lips, and an uncomfortable feeling grew, literally, in his lower regions. with the revelation of Sky's body. In that moment, she could have said anything she wished, or poked him in the eye with a blunt stick, and he likely wouldn't even have noticed. Damn, was the recurring thought that bounced around his mind. Although, having glimpsed her physique previously, those occasions had been amidst attempting to escape mortal peril, not alone, in a cabin in the middle of the woods, without another soul within miles, and the sensation of danger having momentarily passed. On this occasion he stared at Schuyler, like a pubescent teenager discovering porn for the first time stared at the computer screen.

She wasn't the only one who'd been wound up with nerves, and when Ben recovered his composure, and coughed in an attempt to cover up the reasons for his change in demeanour, in the vain hope that she'd would fall for it, he knew the reaction was partly caused by the stresses of the day, and his own need for recuperation and relaxation. What better way for a man to rid his muscles and mind of tension, by giving a woman a good, hard fucking. Even if she was the bullet-ridden, future Queen of England. "Just what do you think?" Roberts lifted his head with the soft touch of Sky's fingers on his cheek, and met her eyes. A brow raised, he was ready this time, and the seductive tone had no effect.

At least not as far as he displayed externally, although it certainly didn't help to soothe his burgeoning erection. Lips close enough to kiss, his palm brushed her breast, and he ran a thumb over the nipple through the fabric as she spoke, the subtly of it enough to potentially appear accidental, before he gently clamped his fingers around the injured arm, and lifted the tweezers. "Sounds like a plan to me." An expression of interested planted on his face accompanied by a smirk, Ben tipped the bottle of vodka towards himself with his free hand, dribbling the liquid onto a cotton ball, and swabbed Schuyler's wound, before pressing the tips of the metal tweezers against it. "Maybe you can wait to assess my injuries there, and once I soap that dirt off of your body, I can do a closer inspection, in case I missed anything?"

Raising a brow, the man pursed his lips, and glanced at the wound, gently prising the broken skin apart, and searching for the slug. Knowing it'd sting, he deliberately allowed a quizzical look to cross across his features, pretending as if he'd just recalled something earlier forgotten, as what he figured to be sure-fire way to distract her mind from any pain occurred to him. "Oh, and Sky, in regard to what you mentioned earlier about me being right only once? You've barely known me for twenty-four hours, so it's perfectly understandable, you'd think that way " Ben tilted his head to the side, nuzzling into Schuyler's touch, and shrugged. "However, as we become better acquainted, you'll realise just often I am." So cocky and sure of himself, Ben located the bullet with the tips of the tweezers, then ensnared it between the pincers. "Practically all of the time."

The Spy's utterance of that last sentence coincided with the precise moment he, without warning, ripped the slug, dripping with Sky's blood, free of her flesh. Then after briefly holding it up between them for inspection, allowed it to drop and clatter on the coffee table. "There now, that didn't hurt a bit, did it?"

It wasn't clear, from Ben's cheeky grin, if he was talking about his medical services, or the confidence in which he'd imparted his statement.
 
She could only snort, since she didn’t believe for a second that he would actually dump her into an ice bath. At least not with the understanding of what kind of hell would come his way if he did actually do it, as well as the kicking and screaming he would be subjected to on the way to dropping her into the ice bath. Considering the meltdown she had and the past twenty-four hours, even she was pretty confident that Agent Asshole here didn’t want any more trouble for the rest of the night at least. He did have one thing right; Sky was a handful sober. Trouble might as well be her middle name.

There was a moment between them. Ben stared at her, as if seemingly affected by the sight of her almost nude body, despite the grime, wear and tear. In that moment, Sky saw him in a different light. Sure, they did their bantering and busted each other’s balls when they could. But this was a moment of serious reckoning. This moment alone could determine what exactly happened the rest of the night. The way he was looking at her...he looked like a predator who was honing in on his prey. And in this case, Sky was the prey. The very idea of that was something that appealed to her greatly. Though each one of her five boyfriends had something special to keep her interest, the one thing they all lacked was letting go completely. Somehow, she believed that Ben would have no problem letting go. After all, a man like him who had been through the same as she in the past twenty-four hours needed a way to let go of his tension. What better than a nice, hard, brutal fucking where they both just resorted to animalistic urge and instinct for a few hours?

For another moment, she thought that what she had said and suggested did nothing to him. That he was once more Agent Asshole with this thick impenetrable shield over his facade. No one could penetrate it, no one could know what was really lurking inside. Sky happened to glance down and she swallowed slowly, still tasting the aftertaste of vodka on her tongue, her gaze honing in on the bulge grown in his pants. She smiled slowly, looking up in time to catch his smirk. “Sounds good to me.” She used his same answer in response to his own little bargain. A night of exploration. Getting lost in the throes of passion for hours sounded like the perfect way to spend the remainder of this day from hell and back.

Sucking a deep breath through her teeth as he dabbed her wound with the vodka laden cotton ball, she then took the bottle back and took a heavy swig. The moment those pliers touched her wound, she was going to feel a world of pain, worse than probably actually being shot! It was like pouring salt on a wound by touching it! Swallowing and then coughing, Sky prepared herself, taking in steadying breaths until the pliers actually touched her torn skin, sinking in to find the bullet.

He started talking again and Sky paid more attention to that than what he was doing to her arm. Her eyebrow rose slowly and a look of humorous disdain crossed her features. He did not! A cry of pain came from her, either from his testimonial or the way he ripped the bullet from her arm, pain shooting up her arm that her eyes actually watered. Sky turned her face away, bringing her free hand up to bit on the sleeve of the coat. Her body trembled a moment, the shock of the pain hitting her but with an extra squeeze of her eyes which made a couple more tears roll down her cheeks, Sky calmed herself. She reminded herself to breathe through her nose which helped a lot. And eventually, the pain turned into numbness. Either from adjusting to it or the fact the vodka had kicked in. She wasn’t really sure at this point right now. She wasn’t sure of anything. She just knew that hurt and she would also like nothing more than rip his clothes off right then and there and get this ravaging going on! Perhaps it was the alcohol…

Shooting him a glance that promised murder to his balls, she swallowed slowly. “No.” She bit out. Her temper, flared for a moment, went down and she was able to not take her anger out on him. “For the record Mr. Secret Agent Man…” She cupped his chin a bit forcefully in her hand so she further punctuate the power she spoke in her words. “You’ve barely known me for twenty-four hours. Thus making it perfectly understandable that you would say that.” Leaning in closer, her thumb grazed over his bottom lid. “However, as we become better acquainted, you[ will realize that a woman is always right.” She closed the gap between their lips, letting her brush against his before she caught his lower lip in her teeth. She tugged gently before releasing. “Therefore, I am. Always.” She whispered, her lips brushing against his freely as she spoke. “All. The. Time.” It was always so much fun using a man’s words back against him. It couldn’t be done a second time!

Pulling back as if nothing had happened, she took another sip of her vodka. “Now, be a good little agent and patch up my arm before I really get randy.” She waggled her eyebrows and took another sip of the vodka. It was beginning to taste better and better the more it had an effect on her.
 
Memories flooded back to Ben of when his Army Sergeant Father used to firmly grip his hand, telling him to place his thoughts elsewhere, anywhere, as he squeezed harder and harder. Young Ben had complied, failing to notice until a word or break in his thought process had brought him back to reality that his Dad's much larger and stronger hand almost crushed the bones of his, but that he'd experienced no pain. The Spy adopted a similar tactic with Schuyler in removing the bullet, goading her with a statement that even after only a day of being acquainted, he knew she'd take exception to in order to keep her mind occupied elsewhere.

Whether she'd appreciate his act of empathy for what it was, once the pain did hit - which didn't take long, for as he dropped the removed bullet onto the table, her cry assaulted his eardrums, and caused him to grimace - was a different matter entirely, and he decided not to attempt to justify it. That would likely only worsen her mood, so Ben just sat, resting a hand on her hip as she trembled, "There, there, it's out now, like ripping a band-aid off." The man's tone contained sympathy when her tremors subsided, and she turned to face him with a look on her face that made Ben instinctively draw his hips back to keep his family jewels at a safe distance. Time stilled as he awaited the explosion, before, instead, she gripped his chin, and pulled his head towards hers, eliciting a sigh of relief. At least his balls were safe. For now.

Eyes locked on the woman, he bit bit back a laugh at the Mr Secret Agent Man comment, and raised a brow. When her hot breath wafted against him, and she brushed his lip, he nipped the tip of her finger, even that small gesture of hers causing the man's hips to squirm, reminding Ben of the erection trapped in his trousers. "We'll agree to disagree Ms Lassiter," he replied as their heads drew closer with each passing second. "Because, we both can't be right at the same time, and not only am I a man, I possess the added advantage of being English." What relevance that had to the discussion at hand, the Spy wasn't certain, but, mind otherwise consumed with thoughts of screwing her into silence, it was the best he could come up with to accompany the gasp that simultaneously escaped his mouth when Sky bit down on his lip.

That, as a woman, she possessed an unfair advantage was only further exemplified when he attempted to deepen the kiss but before he could, she'd pulled back, acting as if nothing had happened. However, as frustrating as that was for the Spy, it also provided a sense of relief, for if it had gone one any longer, he'd likely have given into impulse and thrust his tongue into her mouth, demonstrating his extreme keenness for more and granting Sky victory in the process. Concession wasn't a viable option, at least not before he'd fired a few further shots of his own across her bow. Fortunately, the opportunity to do so was provided unknowingly by Schuyler, with the breaking of their lips. "We wouldn't want you randy, would we, Your Majesty?"

This time, some of the fog cleared from his head, it was Ben who reached up to cup Sky's chin in his hands, before his touch drifted to her neck. Caressing the skin with his fingers, he lightly wrapped his digits around her throat, and leaned in to place his mouth to her earlobe. "Not a woman, all alone with a man in an isolated cabin, no-one around for miles to hear her scream. Because if that man became aware she was randy, he'd likely transform into a wild beast, unable to contemplate anything else but his desire to punish and ravage, leaving her an exhausted, panting, dripping, drooling mess after he was done." Teeth grazing her earlobe, Ben nipped it, then pulled away and moved fully to his feet, not caring about the erection that tented his pants. In fact, ensuring that it now wouldn't be missed. "So, instead of bandaging you, I believe I should go take that cold shower."

Smiling down at her, he swiftly staunched the bleeding of Sky's wound with gauze, and fastened it with elastoplast, slipped off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor, and unbuttoned his shirt, to revealing a flat, toned abdomen underneath - two could play at that game. Then, he plucked the bottle of vodka from her grasp. "However, if you're insistent on me finishing the job, feel feel to come try and convince me." Gulping a mouthful of the liquor that Sky appeared to enjoy so much, Ben released an exaggerated sigh of contentment over his shoulder as he headed to the bathroom to demonstrate, if not his charming company, what else Sky would be missing out on if she decided not to follow.
 
His actions, the way his hand traveled from her chin to grasp her throat and exert sheer dominance and boasting male strength, made arousal pool between her legs, covered by the regrettable jean fabric of her shorts. His words had her nearly dripping, the heat of his breath against her skin calming her and exciting her in all the right ways and when he suddenly pulled back, shivers still surging up her spine, Sky was left immensely disappointed. So much for being an action man. She would have loved if he had his wicked way with her right then and there. He was right. Though she’d never admit it out loud, not right now at least. If she was randy, which she already was--quaking at the seams it seemed for everything his raw prowess could do to her--she would want him exactly in the way he described; a wild beast with no inhibition or control, slaking his lust and his will over her. He’d hear no objections from her. Just erotic screams and silky promises of approval every time she’d scream his name.

The moment he stood up, the look of almost ecstasy on her face faded into disappointment and Sky let out a shaky breath. To follow or not to follow? That was the real question here. She could tease him further but doing so would only torture herself. And if he didn’t take her in the shower, she would die. After the day she had, and surely the day he had, with all the action, near-death and growing sexual tension that mounted between them, they both needed this. They both needed to get lost in each other’s nakedness, lust and passion and find the ultimate sexual release.

Decision made, Sky stood and as he made his way to the bathroom, the image of his toned and naked chest was forever memorized in her mind. It had her nearly drooling and almost panting, like a bitch in heat. Exactly a bitch in heat, in fact.

A slow smirk formed on her face and she pushed the coat off of her body completely. She tore the material of the flannel shirt from her body, exposing her naked chest, sumptuous globes of flesh with dusky rose peaked nipples, already hard and begging for his mouth as well as her softly toned--she was a dancer, not a gymnast, meaning not every bit of her was toned muscle--stomach, her belly button ring still in place even after all the crazy events. Thank goodness for the stud. Undoing her shorts, she pushed them down, her skin all sorts of different colors of grime and sweat at the moment but even the dirtiness couldn’t take away from her curvy and shapely hips, the slender of her fit legs, the nail polish on her toes still in tact and not even cracked. For being dirty, she pulled it off pretty well.

Untying her hair, Sky proceeded to skip along to the bathroom, happy to find her favorite asshole agent in the shower already where she slipped up behind him, sliding bare hands over his bare stomach and pressing every inch of her naked body into his naked backside. “Nice buns of steel Mr. Secret Agent Man.” She purred, trailing soft kisses up his back and over the back of his neck, lightly nipping here and there. It didn’t even faze her that the water was cold. All she cared about was finally having her body pressed against his. Even that was enough to satisfy her, but at the same time, she wanted more. She wanted him all over her, she wanted him to press against her, roughly bury himself inside of her and claim her, the future queen of England as his own, so that he would never forget that he got to violate her royal highness.
 
Licking drops of vodka from his lips, Ben whistled cheerfully as he headed to the bathroom, muscles of his toned back flexing when his shirt joined the floor as he stepped through the door. Unsure if Sky could see, or if she'd indeed follow him, the man contemplated what he'd do if she remained where was. Swallow his pride and return to her with a sheepish grin on his face, pretending that it was what he'd expected her to do all along? Or ignore it, and take solo action to relieve his aching erection, which sprung hard from his trousers when he unbuckled them and switched on the faucet.

Immediately an image of Schuyler on the sofa popped back into his head, causing the Spy gripped his shaft, he knew what the answer was. If she failed to appear, he'd almost certainly go crawling back - at least only figuratively, not literally - to where she lay. Testing the water, he stepped in when it was lukewarm and reluctantly withdrew his hand from his cock in case he got carried away and accidentally finished things before they even started. The hard-on faded some with the cool water flowing onto his skin as he soaped the day's grime away before he heard a noise that could only mean!

It seemed Schuyler Lassiter had been unable to resist his charms, but rather than turn to acknowledge her presence with an expression of glee pasted on his features, possibly arousing her contrariness again, Ben Roberts pretended not to notice. Although his lower regions certainly reacted to the gorgeous naked body reflected in the white tiles. When she joined him, the man remained motionless, enjoying the feel of her soft, warm skin against his, and the way her perfect globes of flesh pressed to his back. However, that didn't mean he stayed silent for each kiss and nibble of Sky's elicited a gasp, groan or moan. If that hadn't been enough to prove how much he wanted her, Ben Robert's thick cock jutted out proudly at full mast. "Glad you appreciate the finer things in life, Your Highness."

Reacting to her comment on his buns, the man reached behind him. Both hands landed on the back of Schuyler's, and he glided his touch up until a palm rested on either of her ass cheeks. "Yours feel as nice as they look." After giving both a good squeeze, Ben lifted an arm, and issued a spank with all the force he could muster before. As the harsh crack of skin striking skin resonated around the shower, and displaying all the gymnastic skills and fluid movement he had at the Mall, he twisted to face Schuyler, and pinned her to the tiles. "What am I going to do with you, Ms Lassiter?" Throbbing erection pressed to her stomach, Ben engaged her in a hot, heated kiss.

"I mean, after I fuck your brain's out?" Breaking the deep kiss as suddenly as he'd initiated it, he cupped Sky's chin, lifted her eyes to his, and dropped a hand between her legs. Presuming the wetness he felt was not a result of the shower, he smirked, and leaned in to nip the sensitive flesh of her throat. "If I make you scream, will you grant me a knighthood?" Panting through his own arousal, Ben ground his cock against Sky and drank in every inch her body, then worked his way down from her neck to her breasts with kisses, licks, nips and nibbles. Locating a nipple, the Spy suckled it between his lips and flicked back forth with his tongue, simultaneously as he buried two digits second-knuckle deep inside Sky's pussy and began to finger-fuck the future Queen of England against the shower wall.
 
Sky giggled, a soft purr of a sound against his back before pressing her cheek to it, her eyes closing and she drank in the sensation of his hands roaming along her skin. He was touching her, over her rather sumptuous backside, making her bite her lower lip. Would he spank her? Or would he just grab an ass cheek in his hand roughly, getting a good feel of her? She didn’t care, so long as he did something. Though she was more partial to the spanking idea. “I’d say I have always appreciated the smaller things but something tells me you’re anything but small.” She grinned, lightly biting his shoulder blade.

And then a loud satisfying crack of a spank hit her ass and she moaned against his back, her entire body jerking into his from the force of impact, her nails digging into his chest. In a sudden moment, he had her pushed against the wall, pinned and his lips claimed hers. Her hands moved to grip into his hair and she moaned into the kiss, kissing him with a fiery and hungry passion that clearly said if she didn’t have him, she’d likely go insane or die.

A whimper of disdain for when he pulled away--why did he always have to pull away?--sounded from her and she slid her hands down to his shoulders, gripping his shoulders tightly. “Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.” She prompted him, maybe even provoked if one could see it like that.

She gasped softly as he cupped between her legs, her head tilted back to expose the hollow of her throat and her eyes fluttered closed, a look of pleasure crossing her face, as well as a grin. “If you make me scream, then yes. If you don’t, I’ll just have to lock you in my royal basement until I can teach you to make me scream.” She found that amusing, imagining having him chained to a cross on the wall, naked and at her very mercy. And if he was good, she’d let him chain her to the wall and have his wicked way with her.

Her hands traveled along his skin as he feasted on her, tingles of pleasures shooting up her spine. She liked seeing him lose this kind of control. It was sexy and it made for a much better time as well. None of her previous boyfriends had been this way. Well maybe one had. Maybe. It was a while ago. She couldn’t care to remember, especially right now.

The moment his fingers plunged deep inside of her tight, warm and very wet pussy--not wholly induced because of the shower, just her natural arousal--a deep cry of pleasure sounded from her and her hips pushed into his strong fingers. She dug her nails over the top back of his shoulder blades, pulling him in closer to her. “Just fuck me Ben.” She moaned. It was too great of pleasure and she wanted it all at once. An overload. She needed the overload.
 
As gorgeous as Schuyler had looked splayed out the sofa, or even attired as a hooker, that paled in comparison to how she appeared naked, and Ben's already rigid erection only stiffened and lengthened further under the water. "Something tells you I'm not small?" Ben nodded down at the throbbing cock that jutted straight out before he spanked her firm, scrumptious ass, and pinned Sky to the shower wall. "Maybe you need an Optometrist?"

Smriking when he slipped his tongue into her mouth, he moaned at the taste of her, and the sensation of her body pressed against his, caught between his intent to tease and have the future Queen of England beg for his cock before he relented and fucked her into next week, and wondering if he'd be able to resist that long. Contemplating that tricky situation, however, didn't stop him from taunting, which unsurprisingly she returned in kind.

"You know, Ms Lassiter.' Ben panted as he ground his erection against her stomach, and bit the flesh of her neck. "I do believe you've just demonstrated your true Royal Heritage, and would give Mad Queen Mary a run for her money. Will you chop off my head as well if I don't please you?" Taking a nipple into his mouth, Ben raised a brow and before she could respond, thrust two digits into her wet cunt, gaining satisfaction from the reaction it elicited. It only further encouraged him, and he continued to slide his fingers out of her dripping pussy, simultaneously using his thumb to toy with her clit until the words he'd desired to hear spilled from her mouth. Not quite begging, just as her moans weren't quite screams. However, both were close enough and he wasn't near done yet.

"What was that, your Majesty?" Continuing to finger Sky, Ben straightened his legs and lightly gripped her throat, forcing her eyes back to meet his. "The word, please?" Grinning as the wet sounds of his digits working inside her mingled with that of the shower water, Ben suddenly removed his fingers, slapped his palm against her sopping slit, and arched a brow. "I guess not." Spanking her pussy again, then again, he simultaneously prised her legs apart with a knee. "So, until I hear it, you're just going to have to wait."

Releasing the grip on her throat, he swiftly took hold of her wrists, pinning them to her sides as he leaned in to plant a kiss on her lips. "At least for my cock. However, since you mentioned you'd love to have me chained, I presume you won't mind seeing me on my knees, either?" Ben raised an eyebrow, and using his leverage to hold Schuyler against the wall, the MI6 agent kissed down her body again, administering nips and bites to her skin.

Lower and lower he traveled, down her abdomen and stomach as the water patterned down from above, not stopping until his head was between her legs. Moaning against the lips of her cunt, he licked up the full length of her pussy, pausing to suckle on her clit before he spread her open and slid his tongue inside her dripping slit. His eyes didn't waver from Sky's the entire time, wanting to witness her expression as he tongued her pussy, but even more, wanting to hear just how desperate she was to receive that fucking.
 
“I was going coy. I guess that didn’t translate.” Her voice was breathy after the way he assaulted her lips, leaving her craving for more. It was his fault really. He was just so damn sexy, carried himself with such a bravado and confidence, she couldn’t help but feel naturally drawn. Of course she would never tell this to him. No need to stroke his ego any longer when clearly he probably got enough of that. He was a badass MI6 agent after all. Surely one of the best. Then again, if this really was like any of the Bond movies she had seen, she reckoned that he was too sarcastic to be given real praise since his sarcastic remarks must likely be fend off with sarcasm, which he would either smirk or deliver more sarcasm in response. It was a never-ending chain of sarcasm. Gods, that only made him sexier!

She opened her mouth to answer but was stopped short as he teased her nipple and his fingers filled her pussy so roughly, the only thing that came from her was a loud cry of pleasure, her pussy walls clamping tightly around his digits. “Oh no no,” she breathed. “I would never chop off such a fine head. No, I’d start smaller. More pain. With your fingers and toes first.” She almost elaborated but didn’t get the chance to and likely a good thing she didn’t. It would kill the mood and probably make him look at her weird. Not that she ever thought to be a serial killer but she got ideas from the books she read.

All words were lost on her, especially as his hand came to her throat and in such a commanding gesture, forced her to look back up at him. She was panting now, exactly a bitch in heat, pushing her hips into his thrusting fingers, only to jerk in response by the spank he left there. She closed her eyes tightly and sucked in a sharp breath of air, only to exhale it shakily. He was slowly unhinging her with lust and her need for him, it almost scared her. She never wanted anyone--not even her five boyfriends--as badly as she wanted Ben. She could run. She could leave him hanging, torture them both but she would hate herself for skipping this opportunity. It might not come again. He could pull back from her if she did or they could die.

A soft whimper sounded from her as he slid his way down her body, kissing, nipping and biting her flesh which only heightened her need. Her skin became more sensitive and she was almost trembling. If he wasn’t keeping her pinned to the wall, her knees could give out, the anticipation was enough to send her roiling. And then, just like that, his mouth found her lower lips and she watched with so much interest as his head buried between her legs. His tongue was heaven and all snarky remarks vanished from her tongue. She tried to free her hands to grasp his head and keep him there but she couldn’t. He had a tight hold on them as his tongue did things to her she had only read about.

Her head tilted back against the shower, her hips jerked into his mouth and she moaned deeply. Her nails dug into her palms as she clenched her hands into fists and it was on the tip of her tongue to beg, to stoop low and give into exactly what he wanted from her. She just couldn’t. Sky wasn’t built to give a man like Ben that kind of satisfaction. Not when the game and the chase were so much more fun. That juice would definitely be worth the squeeze.

But her resolve was weakening and she could feel herself wanting to tip over the edge. Just once, she was trying to will herself to give in but she would be damned if she ever did. Instead, she managed to free one of her hands and decided to play up this queen crap to the fullest. Her hand came around the back of his head and gripped a good handful of his hair pulling his head from her pussy. “I don’t beg. You will beg. Watch me.” She hissed. Her lust controlled her now, drove her.

Pushing back from the wall, she pushed him back, down and slid down on her knees. She grabbed his cock with a gentle but commanding force and held him up. Her gaze locked with his and she used her other hand to push his chest back so he couldn’t try to stop her. Not quite yet at least. She needed a taste. He got his taste. She wanted hers. And then he would beg for her to end his torment. That was how this game worked. Otherwise he would have to try harder to really unhinge her to get what he wanted from her.

Sky dipped her head down and her tongue flicked over the bulbous head of his cock. He was so hard in her hand, like steel encased in velvet. She swiped her tongue again before making the head disappear into her mouth. Sucking hard, her tongue rubbed along the sensitive ridge just beneath the crown before delving deeper, taking him inch by deliciously hard inch into her mouth until she managed to get most of him buried into her throat. He was an impressive size, which made that task an impressive feat but it didn’t deter her. Not when she felt so much satisfaction of having him in her mouth. Sky just needed to let him know who was really in charge here. And she had the power. As did her mouth.
 
Taunting, taunting, taunting. Ben Robert's had never had sex quite like it or with a woman such as Sky. Usually they'd be totally silent, except for whimpers, moans and exclamations of pleasure, or sweet little nothings in his ear. But not once had they engaged him with sarcasm and mocking competitive insults in the process, and the Spy discovered he enjoyed it more than he'd ever have dreamed of; it added to Schuyler Lassiter's charm and uniqueness. Along with the body she possessed, it made him want to fuck her into total exhausted oblivion even more and to elicit that scream. However, not before he showed her who was boss and in control of the situation.

That he, indeed, held all the power became obvious as she panted and breathed heavily, not to mention dripped onto his fingers when he dipped them in and out of her cunt. Juices that he needed a taste of. "You, coy? That doesn't translate," Ben responded in kind, slipping out his digits to slap her pussy and emphasises the words. An eyebrow had raised as he'd slid down her body, "Well, a man doesn't require fingers and toes, really. Just his tongue." The grin on his face was one of self-satisfaction when he lowered his head even further, and attempted to prove why leaving that organ intact would prove beneficial to the both of them.

It appeared he did, even if she wouldn't admit to it, judging by the writhing of her body and the way she gripped hold of his hair. Damn she tasted good, he could stay there all night. Licking and lapping at her sex, ensuring he paid enough attention to her clit to have her panting and groaning, but not too much, so that she'd continually yearn for more, Ben's cock only continued to throb and pulse, feeling that just the slightest touch would tip him over the edge.

Fortunately, it was a little too far away from Schuyler to reach. It didn't occur to him that she might switch positions, so the look on his face when she suddenly pulled away was one of astonishment, and her words entered his ears. Damn, what the fuck did he have to do to get this woman to beg. Shaking his head, and lifting his arms to grip her again, the slippery shower tiles caused him to stumble when she suddenly pushed him backwards. Before he knew it, they'd reversed positions.

"Fuck!" Ben's hips bucked and his ass hit the shower wall as his eyes briefly closed, before re-opening and locking on the woman on the floor. The one with his cock in her hand, his moan more from anticipation than anything, because with her eyes locked on him, he knew what was coming. And when it did, and her soft lips slipped around his erection, the next one was twice as loud and ten times more urgent. Banging the back of his head against the tiles to stop himself from finishing right there and then as the pit of heat grew in his stomach, his eyes glazed over and each suck of her mouth and swirl of her tongue brought another shiver of pleasure from his body, and a moan of ecstasy. "I....don't...beg."

He just managed to get the words out as he dropped a hand to her head, intending to get her off him, but instead he pushed her further down in encouragement. That pit of heat only grew larger and larger, and his balls constricted as his cock swelled. "Ohhhhhhhh." Aware he was close, oh-so-close, Ben Robert's made one final effort. Pulling his hips back and ripping her mouth of his throbbing, aching shaft, he shook his head, the relief of no longer having to use every fibre of his willpower not to come allowing him to regain some control. "I'm a trained spy, I've endured worse torture." Attempting a cocky smile, he pulled at Schuyler's tresses and simultaneously stepped around her to open the shower door. "But if you'd kept going, I might just have decided to finish to spite you, and deny my future Queen her fucking."

Hoping that'd throw her off the trail of how close she'd come to claiming victory, he reached for the trousers that he'd hung off the towel-rail and slipped out his belt. "Bedroom." After looping it in his hand, Ben flicked it out, barely missing Schuyler's thigh with the leather, and arched a brow. "Unless you really want me to whip that delicious ass of yours."
 
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