Over and Done

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS, NOR AM I MAKING ANY PROFIT FROM THEM.


Over and Done


The harsh click of military boots echoed softly down the hall.

The muscles in my body clenched involuntarily at the sound. The floor was cold beneath my bare knees. It seemed like all of the heat from my body had melted away into that marble, leaving me bereft of even warmth for protection.

The sound grew steadily louder as I heard those calm, confident steps.

There was no way for me to know exactly how long I\'d been there as the minutes seemed to drag by like hours. The muscles in my legs had long since cramped and my hands, neatly fold across the tops of my thighs, no longer ached to be moved. Movement was not allowed when I was in this position. I\'d learned that lesson the hard way.

The sound of those boots was battled only by the pounding of my heart.

Some small part of me was aware of the sweat beads beginning to form at the edge of my scalp and underneath my hands. The rest of me, however, was focused solely on the sound of those boots continuing their journey down the hall. There was a casual slowness in the movement as if they were taunting me somehow.

As he walked into the room, boots echoing loudly on the cold, marble floor, I was aware only of those boots and the soft clicking of his sword against his thigh.

\"I see you\'re already ready, my pet.\" Another step closer and his boots were in my line of sight.

It took a physical effort for me to calm my nerves enough to ease out of my kneeling position to crawl forward. The familiar smell of leather and sweat filled my nostrils, and the pounding of my heart only grew louder.

My lips met his boots reverently, and I inhaled deeply before sitting back into my kneeling position at his feet.

I could not see whether he was smiling or not.

\"Good boy,\" he murmured almost absentmindedly, running long, graceful fingers through my hair before continuing over to his chair. My body flushed with shame at his words, but I found myself nonetheless aroused by them. I did not move from my position, but I heard him remove his sword and sit down.

\"Come.\" I turned on my knees and began to crawl towards those boots and that voice, body still red with embarrassment. When I reached him, he gestured at his feet, and I placed my hands on that cool leather and began unlacing them slowly. I was so lost in this job that I almost missed him gesturing for me to hurry. The boots were gone in seconds, placed under the chair and out of the way. I began rubbing at his feet briefly before dropping back to my position.

He stood, pulling me to my feet along with him. Swaying slightly, I felt the blood rushing back to my lower limbs before his mouth closed over mine hungrily, devouring my mouth as if he were devouring my soul. The world could have disappeared around me in that moment, but I was focused solely on that mouth pressed tightly against mine, on that hand clutching at my shoulder, and on the feel of his clothed body against my skin.

After what could have been any space in time, he pulled away from me and just stared. I could feel my body flush under his penetrating gaze, and I was hot and cold and embarrassed and proud and completely, utterly lost in him. Then, he met my gaze and lifted and hand and curled a finger, calling me closer. \"Undress me.\"

My fingers reached for the buttons of his coat, and I removed each piece of clothing slowly, admiring the broad expanse of his chest, and the hard, dusky nipples that just begged to be stroked. When I dropped to my knees to undo his pants, I saw his stomach flutter just slightly and hid the smile that threatened to show across my face.

His pants were gone in three quick, graceful movements, and he was already hard. When I glanced up, he nodded his head, and then I did smile. My hand closed over him softly and almost casually, with the ease of years of practice. I lost myself in the familiarity of his scent and the sound of his soft, echoing moans.

Before he could come, I was forcibly pushed off, and I could see him trying to steady his breathing. \"Up on the bed.\" His voice was completely calm, though his body betrayed him.

I crawled over to the bed and slid up onto it, lying down on my back, legs spread in invitation. There was nothing hidden from him, body or soul, and I took pleasure in watching him stalk toward me. Once on the bed, he sat on his knees between my legs, though there was nothing submissive in the position.

When his hand closed about my aching length, I groaned and watched him closely. His pace was nothing if not teasing, and he knew how to keep me on the verge of orgasming for hours. I squirmed underneath him, legs wrapping around his back across his legs. I held nothing back, no sound or movement, and just let myself feel.

When I orgasmed, it came as an almost shock to me, but he was smiling and obviously not upset. His hand drug through the fluids on chest, painting his initials, and when he held his hand to my mouth, I flushed and sucked it off. His hand continued to play in the gradually cooling mess as he cleaned me off with his hand and my tongue.

Then, he shifted positions, and grabbed my legs roughly, placing them on his shoulders. Sometime in his cleaning of me, he had prepared himself, but he was not preparing me. It hurt, as it always did, when slid inside me, but I did not make a sound. My eyes clenched shut, and I attempted to relax.

His pace was slow at first but gradually grew in intensity, and I practically screamed when he grabbed my semi-hard erection and began to stroke it back to hardness. I felt, more than saw, him lean forward, our chests almost touching, as he continued to thrust. Those long, elegant fingers wrapped firmly about my throat and squeezed. My back arched off the bed into him, and I began almost frantically searching for air I knew I could not have. He was smiling slightly, almost fondly, and I have never felt so warm as I did in that moment.

\"Zechs!\" his name slipped past my lips in a rush of air in that one brief moment of ecstasy before darkness took over.

I awoke to find him dressing but did not move, did not let him know that I could see him. When he turned, I closed my eyes again, feigning sleep. And as he walked closer, boots clicking ever so softly on the floor, my body yearned to reach out to him and have him take me in his arms.

\"Good-bye, my love,\" he whispered, brushing his lips across my sweat-stained forehead. He\'d never said good-bye before. So, this was our last time, was it? It shouldn\'t have hurt me.

And as I lie there in the empty darkness, I heard the sound of his boots disappearing down the hallway.

~fin

All reviews are food for the muse! Thanks!