FIC: Meet Me, RM. 305F [la femme nikita]

[abby82]

 

Meet Me, RM. 305F
by abby82

category: missing scene-ish
rating: Explicit
word count: 6925
disclaimer: they don’t belong to me, no money is being made. I’m only borrowing them.
author’s note: This is a simple "What if..." scenario with some good ol' fashioned smut. Oh the heady rush of Michael and Nikita finally getting together. It didn't last long because this is Section and we're not allowed to have nice things. Yet, Michael and Nikita being defiant in the face of Section and meeting clandestinely is so delicious. It fills me with such forbidden love feels. I love it so much and wished we'd gotten more. The season 3 finale "On Borrowed Time" is a wonderful episode. From the incredibly sexy but restrained yearning of them meeting during the pre-credits sequence to the heartbreaking devastation of the final scene, it's just so perfect. Madeline's line to Nikita about her having made the most of her final meeting with Michael just before we start the Gelman rollercoaster arc really struck me. It saddened me because she was just on her way to meet Michael. Like a lot of my LFN stories, I just wanted to give these two just a little more time together and have them have that last time together.

Also, you don’t know how close this came to being an LFN/Fatboy Slim crossover ala 1999’s “Praise You” music video. The episode did air in 1999. The Torrance Community Dance Group goes international! 
story began: June 2021
story finished: December 2021
links: LJ | AO3 | Tumblr

summary: "Whenever your last meeting with Michael was, I hope you made the most of it."

Room 305F inside the Genefex compound was small. It was no more than an empty 10 by 10 space with painted cinder block walls. It was a far cry from her bedroom or even the abandoned barge they recently met in. But it also wasn’t the empty cargo hold of a downed Red Cell subcontractor plane. Her ass still had the faint bruising from that encounter.

 

With Michael’s note in her pocket, Nikita entered the empty room and waited. 

She couldn’t help but smile. Like two errant school children, they’d taken to passing digital notes to each other under the observant gaze of Madeline and Operations. However, the consequences for their insubordination and refusal to bend to the Type One directive would go far beyond a slap on the wrist. That punishment would be nothing to smile about. 

Cancellation was a real possibility. Reassignment to another Section was also likely—for her.  Michael was too valuable to Section. One simply did not throw away a Class Five operative. Although, sometimes Nikita wondered about that. Madeline and Operations had no qualms about demoting Michael and watched him suffer the indignity of irrelevant assignments and reduced responsibilities.  Section as a whole suffered because of that decision, but they didn’t care. 

Madeline framed that turn of events as Nikita’s doing. Nikita was responsible for the circumstances surrounding Michael's demotion because she refused to give up on their relationship. Nikita was responsible for the loss of life that resulted from the change in personnel. It was Nikita’s responsibility to ensure that Michael would end their relationship.

But what if there was something more? What else could they do? Section was capable of great cruelty. She’d seen that first hand, but she also suspected that it was only a sampling of what Section could do to keep its operatives in line. 

Michael, with his years of experience at witnessing Section’s machinations, probably knew, but he wasn’t sharing that information. Instead, he quietly worked contingency plans to counteract the possible profiles that Madeline could work up against them.

It all seemed like a drastic waste of resources to keep apart two people who simply wanted to take comfort in each other’s company.

The opening of the room’s sole door interrupted Nikita’s troubled thoughts. Michael closed the door behind him and silently took her in. Silently, but not without desire. She still wasn’t used to it. To have the intensity that was normally directed at mission directives focused on her was intoxicating. 

It made her feel like she was the center of his world. 

They met in the center of the room. Not yet touching but each taking in their fill of the other. There was something thrilling about prolonging the magnetic pull between them, to see who would make the first move.

His eyes caressed her skin. Not an inch of her body was left bereft. Nikita watched as Michael took in her face, lingering on her lips. She unconsciously licked them and his eyes shifted minutely at the movement. Nikita watched as Michael took in her clothing, a functional A-line shift dress that wasn’t meant to draw attention. It was beige and plain, but Michael looked at her with barely restrained passion. She knew he was already mentally stripping her bare.  

Her own eyes took him in. He’d cropped his hair even shorter recently. Earlier in the year it had still curled slightly, lush and thick on top. Her fingers had itched to touch it, but they weren’t there yet. He wasn’t hers to touch. Michael was still cloaked in grief even as he’d tentatively moved past his separation from Adam and the stability that his blood cover marriage to Elena gave him. 

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss the opportunity to run her fingers through the thick mass of curls he’d sported when they’d first met. It was always such an indulgent experience. No one touched Michael and she’d had the privilege twice before. His hair had hung down in russet rivets over his face while he moved inside her. She’d tucked stray strands behind his ears when he kissed her. She watched as her fingers were lost in his hair as she held his mouth to her breast or to her most intimate spots. She had a vicarious thrill knowing that she was responsible for the disheveled look he carried after their bouts of lovemaking. For such an impenetrable man, his loose curls added an aura of romantic softness, even as he assiduously tamed them before walking the halls of Section.

His shorter hair left no room for softness. It brought his handsome features to the forefront. It was confident, it was powerful and it was unquestionably masculine. There was nothing extraneous about it, much like the way Michael pursued her. 

Part of her had chaffed when Michael deemed them ready to pursue a relationship. Maybe too much time has passed, she told him. What gave him the right to say when and how? He’d sidestepped her numerous times in the past with claims of bad timing, Section mantra, and of course his confidential blood cover. Nikita didn’t appreciate the notion that she was being kept on a shelf for when Michael had sorted out his priorities. However, she couldn’t deny it, she wanted him. She wanted to know more about this enigmatic man who clearly loved fiercely but so rarely. She wanted his attention solely on her, and she wanted the opportunity to really live. Loving Michael was a heady concoction of lust, affection, and dare she say it, trust. She liked having a partner in Michael that went beyond the sympatico they reached out on the field.

Even with the Type One directive hanging over their heads, their relationship was worth the risk. Now that they’d finally found their way to each other, Nikita was not prepared to let Michael go. It nearly broke her when she’d ended it not too long ago. It was a combination of still trying to separate Michael the lover with Michael the Class Five operative and the pressures and strain his demotion had put on him. Knowing that Michael wanted to fight for them gave her strength.

It also led them to this room and she could no longer fight the battle to touch him.

Nikita reached out and removed the delicate glasses he wore. For safekeeping, she placed them inside the front pocket of his lab coat.

Remembering Michael’s attempt to distract the plant manager Ferrell from his office and her infiltration of it, she placed her hands on his chest and toyed with the lapels of his lab coat. 

“So tell me, Michael, you and Nikita, is your relationship entirely professional?” Nikita teased him with a coy smile.

Her arms went around him. Their bodies pressed together. Her mouth found his pulse and placed a wet kiss on the location followed by a quick nip.

“Not in the slightest,” came his husky reply. She could feel the vibration of his words against her smile.

Michael captured her lips in a breathtaking kiss. His tongue slipped inside her mouth and quickly found hers. The power of his kiss threatened to overwhelm her. 

He reached behind her and removed the band holding her hair. It too went in his lab coat pocket. His fingers lightly carded through her hair, separating it and letting it fall. He then tangled his fingers in them at the back of her head and pulled so that her face was angled towards him.

“Two hours,” he whispered into her lips. “We won’t be disturbed.”

“They’re all ours,” she confirmed.

And then she kissed him, because she could. Because this was a stolen moment that Section One had deemed forbidden. Because as frustrating as Michael could be, she wouldn’t trade a single moment she could share with him.

Nikita luxuriated in the taste of him; in the slide of his lips over hers; in the give and take battle with his tongue.  

With their bodies pressed up against each other and their arms full, it was a languid reconnection. They rarely got to indulge in the act of kissing. They were thieves, lurking in the shadows Michael created. They stole precious minutes with each other where they could only physically affirm their devotion to each other. 

Two hours was a lifetime. 

Their kiss ended when they both needed to catch their breaths. She reached for one of his hands and held it between them. With the other, she lightly ran her fingers over Michael’s knuckles, cataloging the scrapes and bruises he carried. Each imperfection received a kiss. Her lips also grazed every callus. Michael looked at her through penetrating half-lidded eyes. Each of his fingertips in turn entered the warmth of her mouth. 

Michael never missed an opportunity to worship her body.  Reciprocation rarely happened as often as she’d like. Their current setup didn’t allow for the type of tenderness she’d like to bestow on him, but Nikita couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste.

With their lab coats discarded to the floor, Nikita worked her fingers down the tan dress shirt he wore, slipping buttons from their holes. Michael watched mesmerized as she removed the shirt from the confines of his pants and pushed it off his shoulders. One of his hands, which massaged the base of her neck, sending prickles of electricity down her spine, dropped to allow the garment to fall. 

Nikita ran her hands over his muscled chest. The heat of his body drew her even closer as she placed her lips on his shoulder, then across his clavicle where she settled on the notch at the base of his throat. Michael tilted his head back to accommodate her while his hands held firmly at her waist. Her thumbs lightly grazed his nipples and she smiled at his quick intake of breath. 

The room’s harsh fluorescent lighting was never going to be forgiving but Michael, as always, defied the odds.

The elegant but austere wardrobe and the practical tactical gear he wore hugged his body perfectly, but they only suggested at what could be found beneath. It teased the casual observer. Seeing Michael’s naked body with its athletic musculature always caused a flush to creep up on her. Section demanded a lot of Michael’s body. It demanded precision, endurance, and ruthlessness out on the field. It demanded beauty, sensuality and deception on Valentine missions. She still couldn’t get over knowing that Michael chose to share his body with her. He gave it to her freely and without question. He trusted her. She couldn’t and wouldn’t betray that trust.

Being with Michael was an exploration in sensation. It was decadence at its fullest. He’s had her spread out on her bed, his tortuous mouth between her legs. Orgasm after orgasm cresting over her. It was savage when he took her quickly from behind inside the lone bathroom of a dive bar in Amsterdam. Nikita lost count of the number of times the door opened to reveal a surprised bar patron. It was freedom as they lay together amongst the overgrown grass of Belgium.  Their mission jackets at her back, bright blue skies up above, and Michael murmuring French onto her thighs, her navel, her elbow, her breast. He tattooed his words onto her skin. She carried them with her long after they’d returned to Section and Operation’s probing gaze.

Nikita knew that every moment was precious; every moment could be their last. 

“I need you.” His voice was just above a whisper. There was such hunger in his gaze. Nikita felt like crawling inside him so they could never be parted.

“Everything, Michael. It’s yours.”

Their lips met once more and this time a sense of urgency hovered on the fringes. There was a deep seated need to feel Michael’s naked skin on hers. 

Michael plucked at the tiny buttons behind her neck that held her dress up. It fell whisper quiet at her feet and she easily stepped out of it. Her simple shoes followed suit as well and she dropped a few inches in height.

Clad in only a pair of boyshort panties and her bare breasts exposed to the cool room, Michael’s hungry gaze continued to take her in. His crystal clear eyes were dilated dark. His hands fell on the balls of her shoulders massaging and then dropped along her arms, refamiliarizing themselves. The touch was solid yet reverent. When he leaned forward to brush his lips to her temple she was close enough to feel his bare chest on hers. 

The sensation was exquisite torture. His lips caressed down the side of her face, stopping to press open mouthed kisses underneath her jaw and down her throat. His hands marked a path up and down her arms. Nikita had to hold on to his hips to steady herself. They were both still partially clothed and yet Michael managed to make this encounter sensual and powerful.

“I’ve missed your company, Nikita.”

His fingertips drifted lightly down her breasts, their backs teased her stomach, their touch tickling in its faintness, until they gripped her hips. 

“It hasn’t been easy,” she admitted. Her own fingers caressed his stomach. The muscles there contracted at her touch.

“No,” he confessed. Michael nuzzled his nose against her own. How could a gesture so sweet cause such a rush of arousal to course through her?

The hands on her hips brought her infinitely closer before they drifted to the back of her thighs. She grimaced ever so slightly when his fingers made contact with her rear end and her not quite faded bruises.

“Sorry,” she chuckled. “Still a little tender there.”

Recognition crossed his eyes and he kneeled before her to get a closer look. As if seeking permission to proceed, he caught her eyes before he slipped her underwear down her legs. Michael placed his lips where she knew her skin was still marked–the backs of her thighs, her bottom–all showed evidence of a previous passionate and hurried coupling. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered between kisses.

“Don’t be. I’m not.” Nikita smiled down at him in reassurance. She would happily wear the marks of their lovemaking all over her body wherever she could take them. They avoided love bites on their necks and torsos for obvious reasons, but these could still be explained as mission related. The bruising reminded her that this was real and not just some abstinence induced fantasy.

Michael’s fingers bracketed her hips and his lips traveled the skin of her thighs, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When he reached her core, he nuzzled right above her public bone.

“You’re beautiful,” he told her, parting her folds to expose her to his exploration. Just as his mouth made contact, she clutched tightly to Michael’s shoulders.

“Oh!”

Michael maneuvered her back a few steps until her back hit one of the walls. Only her shoulders remained in contact with the wall as she arched her body to seek out more of Michael’s relentless mouth. He gripped her rear end encouraging her position. Her legs quaked as the strain of keeping herself upright against the sexual urgency she felt started to overtake her.

He grabbed her right leg and draped it over his bare shoulder. This opened her up even more to his attentions. His mouth latched on greedily and his tongue burrowed itself within her. She couldn’t help the whimpers she uttered. She had to clutch at Michael’s hair for stability. She was torn between seeking out more of his talented mouth and wanting distance from the torturous pleasure he was inciting in her. Her core throbbed relentlessly in Michael’s mouth. She felt like she was going to tear whole chunks of his hair given how tightly she was pulling. He wouldn’t give her time to adjust. The intensity of where he was driving her was breathtaking. Nikita tried to temper her pleasure filled cries. She wasn’t entirely sure how secluded they were.

Michael pulled back long enough to ease three of his fingers into her. He didn’t give her his customary two fingers. She was so wet that the three barely felt like a challenge. 

“Let me hear you,” he demanded, his accent thick with arousal.

His eyes locked with hers and Nikita could see the pleasure he received from giving her pleasure. He lowered his mouth once more and her clit didn’t know what hit it. The combination of mouth and fingers soon had her reaching a very powerful climax. She cried out her release just as Michael had wanted. His tongue soothed her folds, lapping up her arousal but also avoiding her sensitive clit for the moment.

When Michael rose, looking so incredibly pleased with himself, she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in the warmth of his skin.

“Hmmm, what you do to me.”

They kissed long and slow. She could taste herself on Michael’s lips

Nikita ran her hand across his confined erection. The heat of it burned even though the layers of clothing he still wore.

She deftly unbuckled his belt and lowered his zipper. She smiled into their kiss. She loved that undressing Michael was no longer wracked with nervous tension but filled with anticipation. It was like opening a present you knew you were going to love.

With shoes kicked off and pants and boxer briefs removed, they both were finally bare to each other’s touch. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they kissed and kissed. Nikita never tired of Michael’s kisses. No two were ever alike.

Their hands were free to explore, to tease and fondle, and to excite.

She crept her hand between them and firmly grabbed hold of his erection, heavy and burning in her hand. Michael’s eyes fluttered shut and he allowed himself to savor her touch. Observing him like this, with so much emotion across his normally stoic features, was a privilege that she never tired of.

Michael hiked one of her legs on his hip, running his hand up and down her thigh. His erection, thick and waiting, rubbed against her folds, lubricating itself with her arousal.

Nikita laughed low and chagrined. “This is not going to be graceful.”

Michael’s eyes crinkled in the corners and his lips quirked up in an entirely endearing way. 

“Sex rarely is.” 

He kissed across her jaw and down her throat. 

“Grace comes later. In feeling your skin, flushed, against mine; in feeling your heartbeat; in seeing your smile; in seeing you satisfied.”

“Oh, you’re smooth,” she remarked, slightly flustered at the intimacy of his words.

In that instant she regretted her off the cuff remark because a ghost of subtle dejection crossed Michael’s face. She had just obliquely compared his sweet words to the words of a Valentine op with his mark.

She didn’t apologize verbally. Michael would dismiss the need for one. Instead she grabbed his face and kissed him deeply. She hoped that it conveyed her appreciation, her need and her desire for him. Michael pulled her towards him even more, their bodies connected at every point. Anything further and they’d dissolve into each other, if physics would allow it. Two objects occupying the same space.

Michael lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. The wall at her back was cool on her overheated skin.

Their eyes remained locked to each other as Michael slowly entered her. Passion flared in his eyes and they sighed in unison as they joined their bodies.

She felt her body adjust to accommodate his size. That initial intrusion never failed to thrill her…Michael.

His movement was measured and strong. The entire length of him drove her against the wall behind her. He filled her perfectly. The power and passion that his gaze would only hint at had been released with her at its epicenter. Every time they came together it threatened to engulf her. How could she once have thought of Michael as cold and heartless? He was fire incarnate.

Their lips tumbled across each other, seeking further connection.

It was too much and not enough. Moans escaped from them both. Their little hideaway from Section’s prying eyes might not allow for creature comforts but it allowed them the opportunity to be together. That was infinitely more precious than any bed. Privacy was a rare commodity in their lives.

“My world…ma vie…Nikita.”

His words in her ear were soft, barely heard.

Michael had already given her one orgasm but she teetered on the precipice of a second one. Michael adjusted so that he mouthed at her breasts, her pebbled nipples were lavished with exquisite attention.

Nikita clawed at Michael’s back as he drove into her. It was carnal. They’ve come together in so many different ways. She couldn’t pick a favorite even if she tried. Putting herself in Michael’s very skilled and amourous arms reaped nothing but favorable returns, but theirs was not an unbalanced relationship, despite Michael’s penchant for control. She too held significant sway in their lovemaking and watching Michael willingly give himself to her was unquestionably heady.

“Down, Michael. I want to ride you.”

She almost didn’t recognize her own voice, thick with passion.

If she wasn’t already crazy with desire for this beautiful man, then the want on his face would have certainly done it.

Her unreliable feet hit the ground and she had to take a moment to steady herself. Michael turned them so his back was towards the wall and she was in front of him. He dropped and sat down with his legs crossed. With both her hands in his, Michael guided her down to him. Together, they joined their bodies. 

Once again the feeling of Michael entering nearly engulfed her. His eyes, often distant and closed off, radiated so much emotion.

With Michael fully embedded within her, she cradled his face and kissed him. His tongue easily slipped into her mouth as it sought out her own. His hands settled on her hips and together they started a rhythm that sent pinpricks of sensual desire across her skin.

She perched over him as she rose and fell. Deeper, she needed him deeper. There were parts of her soul that could only be reached when Michael moved within her. Every union involved the pursuit of that ecstasy. He gazed at her with adoration as she continued to move over him. His breath came out in rough gasps, a compliment to her own low moans. His lips captured one of her breasts and suckled at it with ardor, his hands cradling it possessively. When his teeth tugged at the sensitive nipple, she cried out at how wonderful it felt.

“Nikita,” he groaned, and dragged his lips back to hers.

She clung to him as they rocked together. Nikita now lived in a world where the man beneath her, inside her, was her sanity. It would almost be suffocating if Michael didn’t reciprocate with equal fervor. It couldn’t be the forbiddenness of their relationship, although that certainly added to it. In those quiet moments during mission transport or in the late night hours when sleep wouldn't come, she knew deep inside that Michael would elicit these emotions from her. It was like a freefall. Taking the first step was terrifying yet filled with anticipation. Once you were in the air, you gave yourself over entirely to the experience. You just prayed for a safe enough landing and planned for when you could begin the process all over again. The adrenaline, the passion, Michael was like a drug.

Michael eased two fingers into her mouth and she sucked them wantonly. She lapped at them the way she’s taken him in the past, hard and hot, in her mouth–greedy and uninhibited. She could feel his erection swell within her. When he removed his fingers, they were coated in saliva. He circled one of her nipples with his fingers before he led them to his destination. He relentlessly stimulated her clit with demanding precision. Michael knew her body so well. It didn’t take her long before she was careening over the cliff with an orgasm more intense than her earlier one. She cried out unashamed and no longer concerned about discovery.

Michael continued thrusting into her. She clung to him, feeling the muscles on his back contract with his every movement. She could taste musk and salt where her lips connected with his skin. When Michael’s orgasm swept over him, it came with a deep body rumbling moan that she could feel herself. Nikita felt his muscles twitch with the after effects of his pleasure and she soothed him with her touch.

Together, they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking, arms tight around the other, hearts still racing. Michael lifted his head to gaze at her. The most relaxed of smiles greeted her and she couldn’t help but smile in return. When he kissed her, it was tender and loving. His fingers tucked loose, damp strands of her hair behind her ear. She felt warm, cherished, and loved. 

He moved back enough that he could recline on the wall. Nikita moved to get off him but Michael halted her progress. She ended up half on and half off him, straddling one of his powerful thighs.

They sat quietly together, but she squirmed slightly when she began to feel his seed seeping out of her. Michael’s fingers drifted over her bottom, fingertips skimming her cleft, tickling, enticing, arousing.

“I don’t want to leave here,” she confessed. “It hurts when we’re apart.”

Despite the warmth and contentment she felt in Michael’s arms, she felt the need to prepare herself for their separation.

“Enough of that. We still have time.” Michael cradled her face and dropped tender kisses on her forehead. He studied her intently although she wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for. 

“You know,” he began, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose. “You never did finish telling me about that flashmob you came across.”

Nikita laughed softly. The incident felt like a lifetime ago, before the Type One directive. Now their conversations entailed of mission parameters and fleeting impersonal updates about completed missions. With them maintaining a professional distance at Section, silly little anecdotes were no longer a part of their days.

“There’s not much more to tell,” she stretched languidly, remembering. Her breasts rubbed against his chest and she saw his eyes linger on them and take them in in appreciation. “I was buying some flowers at the market on Île de la Cité and out in the square people started gathering.”

One of Michael’s hands trailed up and down her spine, causing her focus to get fuzzy. The other absently twirled a lock of her hair. If only she could transport them to her cozy bed at home where they could laze around all afternoon.

“Hmm.”

“Are you even listening?”

“Yes.”

There was so much warmth in Michael’s eyes, she wanted to cry not only because it was directed at her but because she was allowed to see it.

“It’s everyday life,” he told her. “I like hearing you describe it. You make everything sparkle.”

She ducked her head onto Michael’s shoulder. She wanted to hide her face in a sudden bout of shyness.

“Don’t...don’t do that,” With a finger he tilted her chin to face him. “Don’t hide from me. I like watching you. I like seeing the world through your eyes.” 

Michael’s gentle words meant so much. She leaned forward and captured his lips with hers before the tears started. 

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you.”

He trailed the backs of his fingers along her cheek and smiled fondly. The slight raising of his eyebrows afterwards indicated that he’d like for her to continue her story. 

“Well,” she began, thinking back to that warm April morning. “There were only a handful of people at first but they just started dancing to nothing. Then more people started joining in, but it was almost like they were dancing to different music. They were all out of sync.”

“What kind of dancing?”

“All sorts. Some in couples. One pair was swing dancing. Another was waltzing. Some were in an imaginary mosh pit, but most were just dancing on their own.”

“How long did it last?”

“Not long, maybe fifteen minutes. Just as the police came to break it up, they went away. It turns out they were all wearing wired headphones.”

“There were once outbreaks of people dancing erratically across medieval Europe. They danced until they collapsed from exhaustion, St. Vitus’ Dance. St. Vitus also happens to be the patron saint of dancers.”

Michael offered such an obscure reference that she couldn’t help but look at him with amusement. She laced one of her hands with his and held him tight.

“Well, ancient medieval diseases aside, I think it was probably just a giant performance art piece.” 

Michael smiled softly and eased their joined hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “Very likely.”

Lying in Michael’s arms was not without its consequences. Her body was still humming from the two orgasms he’d given her. Having him warm and vital against her was causing the simmering arousal that still remained to make its presence known. He was a masculine feast laid out beneath her.

She just had to ensure that Michael was ready to accommodate her. Nikita’s fingers kneaded at the parts of his body within her reach. Her fingers massaged the muscles of his strong thighs; they drifted over his stomach and dipped into his navel. His spent cock received a lighter touch when she’d come upon it and she’d rake her fingers through the neat thatch of his dark pubic hair. He was amused at her playful fondling of his body. However, his body still needed some time to recover after release.

“You’ll have to forgive me. My body is being uncooperative.”

There was no shame in his comments. Michael was incredibly in tune with his own body.

“Something to look forward to.”

“Nothing the right inspiration can’t help with.”

To prove his point, Michael cupped one of her breasts and squeezed tenderly. His mouth descended on hers and she momentarily forgot the sterility of the room they were in.

Moments such as these were precious. Touch was forbidden in their world, but not here, so they continued their tactile seduction of the other–butterfly kisses landed softly on Michael’s face, his fingers tightened around Nikita’s inquisitive hand. 

They also talked of inconsequential things simply for the sake of sharing conversation, in strengthening the intimacy of their time together. His shorter hair (he was finishing prep on a summertime mission to Honduras) got brought up; Nikita’s purchase of a ridiculously expensive lingerie set (Michael promptly asked for a description of the dark blue and lacy bralette and thong set); how detouring around the new road construction on her normal route into Section had lengthened her commute; and Michael’s purchase of new sheet music for his cello. It was all so wonderful in its simplicity.

It was remarkable how something as normal as two people enjoying each other’s company could make her so happy. She never wanted to take Michael for granted, especially the little things.

It was the scrape of Michael’s late afternoon stubble, just emerging and rubbing against her sensitive skin. It was feeling Michael’s naked skin against hers. It was feeling his body shutter beneath her hands with pleasure.

It was seeing his lips quirk up ever so slightly when something amused him. It was the fact that Michael let her see that something amused him. To hear him laugh, soft, low, and intimate was incredibly dear to her. The first time she heard him, she pinned him to the bed (his) and ravished him so completely they were beyond breathless afterwards. If Michael was surprised by her actions, he never indicated it and he certainly never complained.

She treasured the gift to be the only person he showed parts of himself to. Nikita was not naive enough to think that Michael would reveal everything to her. She knew he still had secrets he protected. She just hoped that in time he could feel comfortable enough to share them with her. 

Michael tilted his head back, enjoying her touch. She leaned in and nibbled at his throat, lightly grazing his skin with her teeth. He was so beautiful like this, sexually sated, her talented and generous lover. Her fingers caressed his face in much the same way he loved to touch hers. Michael welcomed her perusal and was open to her regard. In turn, he observed her reaction and adjusted his own exploration of Nikita’s body. Michael’s touch was a heady thing. The most innocent of gestures, a fingertip on the inside of her elbow or him sweeping her hair over her shoulder, was imbued with so much sensuality. Her sex pulsated with excitement and she could feel her own arousal building.

She could also feel Michael growing ready for her against her upper thigh.

Nikita traced her fingers over his chest, over the light dusting of chest hair, and down to his stomach. Lower her hand went until she held his growing erection. His skin was silken over the power and heat of his cock. Michael groaned deep in his chest when she tightened her grip and stroked him. He’d started to leak and the pearlescent moisture eased her hand’s movement.

When she stopped, Michael’s eyes followed her hand as it moved to her body. She sought her own moisture and coated her fingers with it before she returned to Michael’s shaft.

Michael’s clever hands continued their own seduction. They raked through her hair and cradled the nape of her neck. Nikita couldn’t help but shiver at his touch.

All this and he hadn’t kissed her in a few minutes, merely ghosted his lips where she wanted them. She pursued them, but Michael always evaded her. 

“Please,” she pleaded.

Michael kissed her hard and possessively. He took her breath away. 

She clutched at Michael as she allowed him to maneuver her below him. He grabbed one of their discarded lab coats and placed it beneath her. The lab coat with its polyester material was a poor substitute for softness, but she welcomed it between her skin and the cold linoleum floor. 

Nikita felt empty inside, both literally and figuratively. Her body ached to be filled. She could feel it grasping at the emptiness that only Michael could satisfy. She also craved the intimacy of their joined bodies. The pleasure and then languid peace he ignited in her gave her strength when they eventually parted. After they walked out of this room, it would be difficult to determine when they’d be together again. Michael had to manufacture their meetings because Section would not allow them to exist naturally.

His lips on her throat were not enough. His lips on her breasts fueled the fire within her even more. Nikita arched her back trying to offer him more of her sensitive flesh. A hand landed on her other breast and rolled her nipple between her fingers.

Nikia whimpered as she continued to writhe below him. He cruelly teased her by rubbing his erection against her heated folds. It was madness to be deprived of what she wanted most, to be filled by Michael. When Michael finally pushed inside her, her body welcomed him in. The breathy sigh she gave was as much a welcome as it was an exaltation. His own moan against her neck signaled Michael’s pleasure as well.

Her knees went up to cradle Michael’s body to hers, but they both remained still for the moment, taking in the precious gift that was the union of their bodies. Unbridled energy traveled between them, but they allowed their breathing and heartbeats to synchronize. Nikita couldn't help but smile in rapture. They were one. Michael also quietly smiled back as he nuzzled his face against hers before he began a maddeningly show rhythm in and out of her. Exhaling deeply, she matched his movements with her own. Every inch of him belonged to her.

Nikita sighed deeply in satisfaction. This was where they belonged, wrapped in each other’s arms.

She kissed every part of him she could reach. She longed to mark him; to claim him as hers, even if it could only be for their eyes. Having Michael in her arms made her feel reckless, but she wouldn’t put him in that position. 

Nikita moaned as Michael surged inside of her. She voiced her approval with every push. It was taking her a little longer to travel the path towards release this time, but she relished the opportunity to savor the sensation of Michael’s skin against hers, of his powerful thrusts inching her closer to their destination. Michael’s lovemaking transported her, them, to a place where the impossible was possible. 

Michael pulled back and rose on his knees, changing the angle of his entrance and suddenly there it was, the perfect angle to stimulate where she needed it. She was also treated to the spectacle of an impassioned Michael in all his glory. He was a vision in masculine virility. His strong torso flexed with his every thrust. His arms held her legs knowingly where they needed to be to assist with her fulfillment. And lastly, his determined face with its darkened eyes that burned with passion. His slightly parted lips let out raspy breaths of exertion. 

She rolled her hips in time with his own.

“Michael,” she sobbed.

Michael lowered his body back to hers and wrapped his arms around her. Their lips found each other once more.

“You’re going to come for me again,” he told her when they parted. “I know you will.”

They were both so close. Their breathing got increasingly ragged as the final push began.

Their union was overwhelming in its intensity. Every one of Michael’s forceful thrusts was met by one of her own. Her hands on his hips, his ass, encouraged his rhythm. He clutched her face between his hands and stared intently into her eyes. The yearning she saw in him said so much. Every emotion that he couldn’t express, every word he couldn’t say was written across his face.

How could she have ever doubted him?

“Très belle…Nikita...mon âme.”

She gave herself completely to him when her orgasm finally overtook her. His name was on her lips when she crashed. When Michael’s body shuttered with his own release, the emotion in his eyes and in his kiss told her he belonged to her unquestionably.

In the euphoric aftermath of their lovemaking, Nikita didn’t want to move but simply curl up with Michael and sleep away the afternoon. Yet, Nikita knew that fantasy was not to be. The smell of sex clung to their skin. They would carry it with them when they left this room.

Their time was almost up. What initially felt like an incredible indulgence now felt like a fleeting moment in time. She felt so alive when she was in Michael’s arms, but they were playing a dangerous game. How long could this go on? How long could the clandestine meets sustain them?

The floor was still cold, but Michael warmed her. She sought out another kiss and Michael didn’t deny her. Eventually, he rolled on his back and brought her with him to lie against him. His hand traveled across the curve of her waist in a soothing pattern.

“I want more for us,” he confessed, breaking the silence. The sincerity in his voice and his eyes caused an upswell of emotion different from what she’s experienced so far. Michael spoke of long term stability, a pipe dream as far as Section was concerned. That he was willing to speak of it…oh Michael. She didn’t dare break their embrace and instead tightened her own arm around his waist. She placed a kiss on his clavicle in acknowledgment of his words.

Their final minutes continued to tick by.

“Where does Birkoff think we are?”

Two hours was a long time to remain out of contact during an active mission.

“I told him my profile needed ten hours to maintain our cover and extract the gandium. It only took eight.”

“That won’t work again. Operations will question it.”

“I know.”

Nikita sighed deeply. She desperately wanted to hide away from the real world that lurked outside room 305F. She rubbed the sole of her foot soothingly over Michael’s shin. The hair on his legs tickled in the most pleasing way.

“This isn’t sustainable, Michael. Not like this.”

Because of them, Walter was under extra scrutiny. Birkoff was understandably skittish around them.

She just didn’t want to let him go. For too long they’d had to deny themselves.

“I’ve been thinking about that.”

His fingers drew unknown designs on her shoulder.

“Anything concrete?”

“No,” Michael turned his gaze from a distant corner of the ceiling to her, “Not yet.”

The disappointment that settled in her stomach was unwelcomed. Michael was carrying a huge burden. She wished she could do more to assist him.

“As long as our efficiency levels remain where they’re at, we’ll be fine for now,” he offered.

“You really believe that?”

He didn’t answer her. Instead he tilted her chin towards him and gave her another toe curling kiss.

“We’ll get through this,” Michael pressed his promise to her lips before they lost each other in another kiss.

-30-