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FIC: at the dark end of the street [la femme nikita]
at the dark end of the street
by abby82
category: missing scene-ish
rating: Explicit
word count: 6828
disclaimer: they don’t belong to me, no money is being made. I’m only borrowing them.
prompt: one of their post-mission secret rendezvous
author’s note: written for round 30 of the
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smallfandomfest story began: December 2021
story finished: January 2022
links: LJ | AO3 | Tumblr
summary: Five times Michael and Nikita meet clandestinely
1. Hiding in shadows where we don't belong, Living in darkness to hide our wrong
Michael was already there when she arrived. He sits in the back ostensibly waiting for a revival screening of L'Année dernière à Marienbad; the 14:15 showing.
She took a rather circumspect way of getting there that involved a taxi, several Metro lines, and walking 15 minutes to get there. The bitterly cold rainfall started coming down half way through her walk.
“Hello,” he says as she approaches him and eyes the seat next to him.
“Hi.”
Nikita removes her wet raincoat and lays it across the seat next to her.
Michael reaches over and fingers the wet tips of her hair.
“It’s really pouring out there,” she offers in explanation.
Almost immediately after sitting, Michael reaches out to cup her face and give her a much more satisfactory greeting. His lips are soft against her own. When they part he reaches his arm out and drapes it across her shoulders pulling her towards him. She happily settles against him and places her hand on his thigh. The low armrest between them did little to limit their closeness.
The warmth of him seeps into her bones relaxing her. His fingers play idly with her hair.
Michael’s invitation came to her via Mick Schtopel. He’d come to her apartment early this morning waving his arms around and yammering about an art dealership that was unable to find the right pieces for his discerning tastes. When she suggested he try a different dealer he wholeheartedly refused, claiming this dealership’s bonafides had the image he wanted to project. On his way out Mick left her a brochure. His parting remark was that she should check them out. That they seemed more in line with her tastes.
Nikita had cleaned up after her light breakfast and when she reached for the unsolicited brochure, the business card clipped to the front caught her attention. It was the same type of business card she’d seen Michael offer Gray Wellman several years ago–Michael Samuelle, Marchand d’art. Intrigued, she’d opened the brochure and inside was a movie ticket that stated a time and place. Le Champo, 14:15.
Michael was asking her out on a date.
Nikita’s teenage years were spent bumming smokes off of friends, hanging out, and trying to fend off unwanted advances. She never dated. Nor had she participated in the typical suburban teenage activities that revolved around exploring relationship milestones. Yet, here she was with Michael, a man whose sexual prowess could make grown women weep and who could kill you in too many ways to imagine, snuggling away awaiting a movie. They don’t fit into this world of movie dates and secluded rainy afternoon trysts, but here they are.
“We’re the only ones here,” Nikita states the obvious.
“So we are.”
“By design or coincidence?”
“No one else is coming.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“I…,” he begins reluctantly, as if embarrassed. “May have bought out the entire screening.”
Nikita’s heart clenches with an upswell of emotion. It was such an incredibly romantic act.
A breathy chuckle escapes her. “You just made some poor university cinephiles very unhappy.”
“And you?”
Michael reaches out with his free hand and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Aside from being very flattered. You’ve made me very happy.”
She leans over and captures Michael’s lower lip with her own, alternating between it and his upper lip, teasing him. She starts to drag her mouth down his jawline, nipping and tasting as she works her way to the side of his neck. She can feel his pulse beating out a steady but increasing rhythm. She can feel his hand cup her face and guide it back to his lips. He wastes no time teasing and instead captures her mouth in a kiss that makes her toes curl. His tongue eases its way into her mouth where it slides erotically against hers. Their leisurely yet sensual kiss draws out a low moan from her.
“Did you ask me here to make out in the back of a dark theater?” She asks, smiling against Michael’s seeking lips.
“I asked you here so we could spend some time together.” When his voice gets low and husky like it is now, she really can’t be held responsible for her actions.
“But if it involves my tongue in your mouth…”
“Who am I to complain?”
To prove his point his heavenly mouth is back on hers. The slightly abrasive texture of his afternoon beard rubs against her face, but Nikita doesn’t care; she never cares as long as Michael never stops kissing her.
She pivots slightly to face him more closely and her left hand lands on his chest, kneading and caressing the muscles underneath his dark blue sweater.
She squeezes his thigh muscles with her other hand gently before slowly inching her hand further up.
Michael guides her hand until it comes to rest on his thickening shaft. She can feel its heat through his jeans.
“How badly do you want to see this movie?” She whispers into his ear.
“What movie?”
Nikita laughs softly at Michael’s drollness. The corners of his mouth quirk up and his eyes twinkle with amusement. He thumbs her lower lip tenderly and gazes at her with an openness that threatens to sweep her away. She tucks her face into Michael’s neck and laughs once more.
“We’re not exactly teenagers, you know.”
“That’s not exactly a problem.”
His hands rub hypnotically up and down her spine. She wants to melt against him.
“Are we really gonna do this?”
Nikita nudges her nose against Michael’s face.
“That’s up to you.”
He turns his head slightly to rest his forehead against her temple.
She coyly bites her lower lip and looks at him from underneath her lashes. “This can be a different sort of danger…all reward.”
“Little risk,” he finishes for her and then kisses her with a thoroughness that takes her breath away.
Michael’s hands seek her out. One hand grazes her breast while the other cups her center. The palm of his hand provides exquisite friction to her clit.
“Too awkward,” she determines after a few maddening moments of wanting more legroom to maneuver and bats his hand away. “Let me do this.”
Before he can protest, Nikita drags down the zipper of his jeans and reaches in seeking his heat.
He is vital and substantial in her hand and Nikita indulges in the laziest stroking motion she can get away with.
Michael’s breath deepens as he alternates between watching her hand on him and her eyes.
Leaning forward, her tongue slowly licks the underside of his cock from base to tip. She does this once and then twice, enjoying the texture of this, such an intimate part of Michael’s body.
She takes him into her mouth as far as she can go and he jerks slightly at the enveloping heat.
She loves giving this to him. Her own body responds to having Michael hot and potent in her mouth. Her nipples tightens and she can feel herself getting wet. Nikita retreats to where just the head is in her mouth and she swirls her tongue around tasting the leaking pre-seminal fluid.
Beneath the hand on his upper thigh, Nikita can feel his muscles shift and tense.
She lifts her head and gives him confident strokes. He pulsates in her hand leaking precum onto her fingers. Michael groans and throws his head back against the seat, exposing the length of his neck. His Adam's apple bobs enticingly as he swallows.
“I love the way you taste.”
She leans down again and starts to kiss down the side of his cock and she sucks along the way as well. Michael rakes his fingers through the hair that falls over her face, giving himself an unobstructed view of her actions.
“I love that you let me see you like this.”
“I want to touch you,” he confesses.
Nikita drags Michael’s open palm from her hair to her mouth where she places an open mouthed kiss.
“You are.”
Her mouth goes back to his straining heat and takes him in once more. Michael continues to fight against the strong impulse to thrust into her mouth. One of her hands fondles his testicles and gives them some attention. His ragged breath and the wet sounds from her mouth fill the space between them. The throbbing between her legs intensifies when Michael lets out a quiet grunt.
“Let yourself enjoy this.”
The arousal coursing through her is intense. She moves faster still and Michael starts to lose his battle with not thrusting up into her mouth. Nikita fights her gag reflex when he accidentally grazes the back of her throat.
She feels wanton. She feels powerful. She feels desired.
Another deep groan comes from Michael.
“How’s that?”
Michael groans his answer. His cheeks are flushed and sweat beads at his hairline.
“So I take it, you approve?” She’s playful in her questioning.
She pushes back down on him and hollows out her cheeks as she works to take him over the edge.
“Nikita…”
Michael’s voice is rough with arousal and his hand on her head signals what she already knows.
Nikita refuses to let go. She moans around his thickness, overwhelmed with sensation. When his grip tightens in her hair, Michael spills himself into her mouth. His body trembles beneath her touch and radiates a massive release of tension.
She sucks him through his orgasm. Normally, Nikita prefers for Michael to come while deep inside her but this was certainly an illicit change of pace.
“That was fun,” she teases, wiping the dribble of semen that has escaped her lips. Michael grasps the nape of her neck and draws her up to him, their foreheads flush against each other. He draws in several shuddering breaths. His eyes are shut and his eyelashes lie dark against his skin. When he opens his crystalline green eyes they shimmer with unrestrained passion.
Nikita cradles his face and smiles softly at him with pleased tenderness.
“Now can I touch you?”
“Oh, good luck maneuvering around these seats.”
Nikita should have known better than to challenge him, this is Michael after all.
Nikita watches smugly as Michael neatly tucks himself back in and makes himself presentable. His eyes are still half glazed from the orgasm she drew out of him.
He takes her hands and encourages her to stand before him. It’s too cold outside to have worn a skirt but the minute Michael starts to lower the zipper on her ankle boots and then the one on her slacks, she starts to wish that she had.
She throws a cautious look towards the projection window above them when Michael begins to lower not only her slacks but her underwear as well. The slightly cool air of the theater hits her now overheated skin.
Leaning back and looking very much like the commanding man he is, Michael looks at her expectantly.
“Hop on,” he offers nonchalantly.
Her confusion must show on her face because he clarifies his request. “Knees…on the armrests.”
She feels a little silly once she’s in position, but the minute Michael’s fingers land on her swollen clit, she can barely remember own name.
A breathy sigh she couldn’t keep in gets out. She’s so incredibly sensitive and Michael is playing her like he would his cello. She’s seen his beautiful fingers work his instrument. Right now he’s working her.
One of her hands grasps tightly on his shoulder while the other one lands flat on the wall behind them.
He’s making her feel so good. Nikita rocks her lower body seeking out more of his touch. She tries to keep quiet and instead strained whimpers escape her mouth. When Michael inserts two fingers inside she cries out. She’s beyond caring who hears her.
“You’re very wet,” Michael’s husky voice informs her. “Drenched actually.”
“Hmm,” she moans. “For you.”
“All this from touching me?”
Nikita nods her head distractedly. She’s too busy chasing the release Michael has set her on the path for.
“Almost?”
“Yeah, oh yeah…just a little.” Her words come out stuttered and breathy.
Michael lowers his head and captures her clit with his teeth and that does it. She comes with such force that she bends over Michael’s head. She can feel the minute movements of Michael’s head through her top as he licks her through her release.
Nikita is not an exhibitionist but she has to admit it was quite the thrill, even if Michael took every step to assure that the theater would be empty.
Her knees are a little sore but she doesn’t mind. Especially when Michael kissed the blossoming irritation when he helped her with her slacks.
She doesn’t particularly care for the movie once they’re back in their own seats and decent. She is, however, cradled in Michael’s arms, and that’s all she cares about.
Nikita’s eyes have been drooping for a while when Michael’s phone vibrates just over half way through the film.
Section One demands their presence.
They can’t walk out together. Michael rises and dones his leather jacket. He turns back towards her and reaches for her hand. Lifting it to his lips, he places a warm and lingering kiss on her knuckles.
“Thank you for coming,” his voice is affectionate and ever so slightly wistful.
“Thanks for the invitation.”
With a final caress of his thumb, he releases her hand and walks towards the exit.
Nikita waits fifteen more minutes before she too exits the theater.
2. I know time is gonna take it's toll, We have to pay for the love that we stole
The wind sweeps across the steppe in a consistent breeze. The stalks of the feather grass scrape at his sides. He doesn’t care. Nikita lies before him a canvas of pale skin and a rosy flush dusts her body. Michael whispers onto her skin secret things.
To the delicate skin behind her knees, Michael promises his total devotion. Her hipbone receives quiet exultations, declarations to her beauty and her generous heart. Her navel, he teases mercilessly with his tongue, because her laughter lightens his spirit. That spot is bestowed with hopes for their future.
Nikita is not privy to the content of his words. He’s too much of a coward to take that step. Instead he practices in the language of his youth and he hopes she is none the wiser. When he finally tells her these things, he wants to say them directly into her sky blue eyes.
He licks inside her elbow and the gossamer hair on her arm rises in anticipation.
“Where do you want me, need me?”
“God, yes, I do.”
Her voice is husky and strained. She squirms below him seeking relief to the tension building inside her. Her eyes are to remain closed. Nor is she allowed to touch him. Those are the rules and her fingers clench at the mission jackets beneath her.
She is luminous in her desire and Michael further suppresses the impulse to take her right there and then.
“Where, Nikita? Tell me.”
“I want you to touch me. I need you to.”
“Like this?” he asks and places a kiss in the valley between her breasts.
“More.”
“How about here?” Hovering over her, his lips land on her clavicle.
Nikita whimpers in frustration and arches her body. It comes in contact with the clothing he has yet to remove.
“Michael…”
He takes pity on her (and himself) and takes one of her rosy nipples in his mouth, suckling at the hardened flesh.
“Yes!” Nikita proclaims breathlessly and arches even more to present herself fully to Michael’s attentions. His right hand comes up to massage her other breast.
She hums her approval and she grasps her own head to keep her hands occupied.
“Tell me,” Michael coaxes as he switches to take her other nipple into his mouth.
She’s withholding on purpose. Her rebellious nature chafes at acquiescing too soon, even when she has much to gain in her surrender.
He reluctantly pulls away and leans back on his knees to gaze at the sight before him.
Nikita is not without weapons at her disposal and she knows it. She arches her body, displaying it for his eyes. She undulates her lower body seeking him out. Soft sighs escape her lips, teasing him. She licks her lips slowly, allowing a peek at her pink tongue.
“Open your eyes, Nikita.” He rubs his fingers on both her kneecaps.
When she opens them, her eyes are dilated dark.
“Where do you want me?”
She smiles slow and knowing. “Where I always want you, Michael…inside me.”
Slowly, so slowly, she moves her hands to rest on his thighs, which straddle her. Her fingers stroke up and down, further pushing his body to surrender to her. How quickly and easily she turns the tables on him.
He’s unbearably hard and more than a little uncomfortable in his tactical pants. Nikita can focus on nothing else other than the very obvious bulge at his groin. A provoking smirk graces her lips as she lets her fingers drift over to his clothed erection. Her touch offers some relief but also causes him to thrust further into her hand.
She laughs in amusement at his condition before she reaches for his belt to undo it and the button closure of his pants. Michael promptly removes the black sleeveless tank he uses as a base layer before lowering himself fully against her.
“Finally,” Nikita sighs.
They kiss deeply, tasting the essence of each other.
When he enters her, Nikita’s body captures him and refuses to let him go. He rolls his hips against hers, stimulating her clit with his public bone.
Together they move. Nikita wraps her arms and legs around him, anchoring them together.
All his senses are heightened in the moment. Nikita’s soft cries fill his ears; the hunger of her kiss and the sweat on her neck fills his palate; and the grass that surrounds them wafts its herbaceous aroma into his nostrils. He’ll forever associate the smell with loving Nikita. The feel of her pliant and warm beneath him, around him is intoxicating. Nikita runs the soles of her foot against his calf before tightening her legs around him even further. But the sight of her face, her strong body, lost in their combined passion moves him in ways he can’t comprehend. Michael feels humbled by the privilege.
“You’re heaven,” he breathes into her neck. In response she says his name as if it was a talisman she could lock away and preserve.
They unfurl together.
The windblown steppes of Ukraine are the only witness to their clandestine joining.
Michael breathes her in deeply while Nikita cradles his head to her breast. He can feel the strength of her beating heart as it fuels her life. She is alive and vibrant in his arms, finding him worthy of her company and of her body.
The heat of the sun above feels good on his exposed skin, but not as good as Nikita’s trailing fingers. Their time together is precious.
When Michael’s watch alarm goes off Nikita’s heart skips a beat. The real world, Section One, beckons.
As they quietly dress, Michael finds that he doesn’t mind the scraping of the feather grass anymore.
3. Oh, but our love keeps coming on strong
“Joséphine.”
“Yep.”
“Downstairs…ten minutes.”
“What’s the mission?” she asks, eyeing the motorcycle and Michael’s dark jeans and leather jacket with curiosity. He also has a second helmet that he hands her and gestures for her to hop on behind him.
“Dinner. Mexican,” he explains as she wraps her arms snuggly around his waist.
Michael assures himself that she’s secure and pulls out onto the street. They merge easily with the early evening traffic. Twenty minutes later they find themselves not far from the Latin Quarter. She’s never ridden with Michael and she wouldn’t be terribly disappointed if they forewent dinner and instead rode down the streets of Paris together. The way Michael’s body minutely adjusted and shifted as he maneuvered the motorcycle was unbelievably sexy.
When they stop, it’s outside an unassuming building with some al fresco tables near the door and the barely discernible sound of music indoors.
Michael locks the two helmets to his bike before he reaches for her right hand and laces his fingers with hers. Her stomach does a flip when she looks at his soft eyes. She glances down to see her hand safely ensconced in his. He squeezes lightly and she looks up just in time to see the slightest trace of a pleased smile.
“You’ve been here before?” She asks once they’re inside.
“No, we’ll experience it together.”
“Tacos?”
“If you want.”
“Buenas, bienvenidos, table pour deux ?” They are greeted in a combination of Spanish and French.
The restaurant is not big nor is it overly crowded but couples and larger groups can be found throughout the dining space. It’s cozy in the most wonderful way.
They are led to a small corner table and given menus to review.
Nikita studies the menu before her, but her attention wanders to the room around her. The decor is eclectic, featuring vintage Mexican movie posters, Frida Kahlo reproductions, colorful sombreros and tapestries of a cerulean robed Virgin Mary. Nikita automatically likes it. When she glances towards Michael she finds him clearly enjoying her admiration of their surroundings.
“You approve?”
“Definitely,” she replies with a wide smile. “And I’m not just talking about the decor.”
She kisses him sweetly before she retreats to look at her menu.
Nikita orders enchiladas rojas. Michael prefers the mole poblano. They each have a Dos Equis. They talk quietly over a basket of chips and salsa.
With their heads tilted together in their private little corner, they have the freedom to be more tactile with each other. It’s perfect. They’re both clearly enjoying the opportunity to act like the lovers they are.
Michael is a quiet man, but that’s not to say he’s a bad conversationalist. Quite the opposite actually. He’s just incredibly discerning as to who he can have deeper, more revealing conversations with.
The way his eyes take her in is a heady feeling. It’s something she feels intensely when they’re in bed together but it’s something she hasn’t quite learned to be on the receiving end of when out in polite company.
They’d spent the painfully short timeframe of their nascent relationship before the Type One directive in bed together exploring and indulging in each other’s bodies. The times they came up for air still carried with it the sexual haze of a new relationship. It wasn’t long before they threw themselves back into their sexual escapdes. Who was she to deny herself the prospect of a naked Michael in her bed and she certainly didn’t want anyone around him when the pheromones were as thick as they were?
Their meals come and they both agree that the food is delicious.
Michael sees her eyeing his chicken with mole poblano over her plate of enchiladas. He skirts her plate to the side and slides his over.
“Try it.”
“Oh, I couldn’t,” she begins half-heartedly.
“Nikita, you’re curious. Besides,” Michael drops his eyes suggestively to her mouth. “I know what you look like when you want something.”
She knows she’s blushing at that comment. There’s no denying it.
Gathering her composure, she gamely picks up her fork before unabashedly giving Michael a heated look. “That’s right. You do, don’t you.”
She enthusiastically forks some of his chicken drenched in the smoky/sweet chili and chocolate sauce. Her eyes light up in pleasure when she tastes it.
“Oh, wow. That’s so good.”
Michael laughs softly and for a few seconds they stare at each other, lost in the intimacy of the moment. He settles the plate more securely in front of her and moves hers in front of him. He helps himself to her half eaten enchiladas as if it was the most natural thing for him to do.
They continue to talk and flirt over their dessert and coffee. Tres leches for her, flan de cajeta for him.
Throughout their evening she’s had the strongest suspicion that Michael longs for normal almost as much, if not more, than she does. It makes sense in a way. For more than five years between missions, seductions, injuries, and betrayals, he’d retreated to his blood cover assignment with Elena and Adam. His devastation at the loss of them shows that even a man like Michael, who has made claims of living his life neatly divided in two, can still fall victim to the allure of normal. Not everything in his idyllic false marriage was a lie. Nikita had witnessed it first hand. Michael can’t offer her normal, but he’s trying his best to offer her some place where they can be together. Pockets of time where their biggest concerns are what to have for dinner.
The Type One directive that hangs over them is oppressive. That Michael would jeopardize the relative peaceful impasse they’re in with Operations and Madeline for her company makes her feel conflicted. She wants to be with Michael with such desperation. It’s something she sees mirrored in his eyes, but she fears for him. The ennui that settled over him during his demotion still troubles her just as much as his insistence that everything was fine.
Yet she trusts that Michael has carefully concealed this outing from Section’s ever watchful eyes.
On their way out her fingers itch to grab a business card as a memento of their time together, but she talks herself out of it. Even the tiniest of slip ups can jeopardize their safety. Instead, she tucks away the memory of the restaurant’s ambience and the warm, effortless sensuality of Michael’s company into the corner of her mind that she’s dedicated to the good things in her life.
The ride back to her apartment sees less traffic and is unfortunately shorter.
“I guess you coming up is out of the question, huh.”
Michael has parked his bike on the street adjacent to the courtyard of her building. They’re standing closer than they probably should be. There’s no mistaking the attraction that vibrates between them. Michael has looped one of his fingers inside her belt loop. Nikita toys with the zipper pull of his jacket.
“If I go up with you, I’ll be incapable of leaving,” he confesses softly. The desire in his eyes is so potent her body drifts closer to him.
Something in Nikita suddenly snaps and she drags him to a dark corner a few feet away. The rough brick facade digs into her back, but Nikita doesn’t care. She pulls Michael to her and gives him what she hopes is one hell of a goodbye kiss.
His hands encircle her waist and he pulls their bodies flush together. Her own hands bury themselves in his short hair and she tugs.
Their lips part reluctantly. The kiss leaves them both breathless and lightheaded.
“Goodnight.” Her hands drop down his chest and settle at his waist where they tighten ever so slightly.
“Goodnight.” Michael skims the back of his fingers down the side of her face before he tenderly kisses her temple. “Sleep well, Nikita.”
With that, he turns from her and walks out of the shadows and towards his bike. He revs the engine and disappears into the night.
The last places Michael touched–her lips, her temple, and her cheek–tingle well into the rest of the night.
4. They're gonna to find us, lord, someday
The looks Nikita has been giving him the last few days have been dangerous.
He feels her eyes upon him while he’s in Comm providing tactical support for a mission gone hot. He feels her eyes when he spars in the gym with some recruits at the request of another operative. He also feels her eyes as they prepare to depart at the end of a mission briefing.
Those eyes of hers are undressing him in public. It would be flattering if it wasn’t so dangerous. He told Nikita years ago that their eyes could give away the status of their relationship. Nikita’s eyes, liquid pools of the bluest blue, were the most expressive part of her.
They’re constantly being watched by more than just Madeline and Operations personally. There are others.
When a four man, two team mission to recover components from a downed Red Cell subcontractor plane comes up, Michael sees it as the opportunity he needs.
The plane got brought down in the Libyan desert. Inside the cargo hold, it was sweltering. It’s also been baking underneath the hot desert sun for 72 hours. The plane’s metal shell has absorbed all of that heat.
He and Nikita are to inventory and tag the contents for later transport by a substation. The second team is to maintain a wide perimeter in case Red Cell comes hunting.
Nikita knows why they’re there. She’s seen it buried on her panel.
Much to Michael’s relief, since the onset of the mission Nikita has been textbook perfect, like always. Her heated gaze had disappeared and had been replaced by the facade of indifference she’d been using since their public separation.
“Here?” Her eyes asked silently.
Michael nodded his reply.
Birkoff’s voice comes over their comm units and they proceed with their assignment. Periodically, Nikita’s equipment will start exhibiting interruptions. Michael has done the minor sabotage himself. His will start to fail not long after.
They’ll have at most 20 minutes from their last signal before second team arrives at their location.
When the last item is logged, Michael wastes no time and lifts Nikita against the crates. He plunges his tongue in her mouth and she responds enthusiastically. Her kiss is hungry and hot. Nikita claws at him desperately as she answers him with equal fervor.
She grinds herself against him seeking the type of friction their position can create. It’s not enough. Not with the clock ticking.
Undoing the button and zipper of her pants he pushes down both pants and underwear to bare her for him.
Michael drops to his knees before her. He instantly wraps his arms around her thighs and throws Nikita’s legs over his shoulders. Her legs are wide and open and he drags his tongue through her folds. A deep moan escapes her and she jerks violently at the contact. He is unrepentant in his ardor. His mouth works her aggressively by assaulting her clit with his mouth.
With her hand fisted tightly in his hair, Nikita rocks herself seeking even more contact between them.
“Michael…” she moans.
He starts to tighten the hands wrapped around her thighs before he catches himself. They can’t leave marks on each other. They can’t take that chance.
Instead he slides his right hand up her torso and palms Nikita’s breast through the fabric of the tank top she wears. Her own hand covers his and together they squeeze the pliant flesh.
Another deep moan escapes her lips.
Michael looks up at her from his place between her knees and takes her in. Her body heaves as she takes in deep breaths. The hand not covering his has creeped underneath her top and squeezes her other breast.
He loves seeing her like this. They lock eyes. She knows what’s coming and Michael quickly inserts three fingers inside the wet heat of her body. Her mouth opens in a soundless cry before his lips are back on her. The musky taste of her arousal is maddening. He can never get enough of her.
Nikita’s orgasm, when it hits, is sudden and Michael refuses to let up. His tongue laps at the moisture her body produces, luxuriating in the taste of her.
He rises to his full height and opens his own pants far enough to release his erection. Nikita looks at him from under hooded eyes and a bewitching, curling smile.
Michael positions himself at her entrance and eases himself into her. Every time they join their bodies it feels so remarkably right. Nikita squirms below him trying to encourage his movement. He drops a soft kiss on her upturned lips before he begins a punishing rhythm with his hips.
Her pleasurable gasp is gratifying. His thrusting is uncompromising and Nkita wraps her arms and legs around her in a bid to hang on.
Her moans are not the quiet moans of secretive coupling but those of a woman in the throes of passion.
“Harder…please…God don’t stop.”
Michael slants his face and kisses her deeply. He moans into her mouth sharing his passion with her. They need more time. Why is there never enough time for them? They fight for every single clandestine second.
Nikita raises her right foot and places it on the edge of the crate, opening herself even more for him.
“Fuck me…Michael please. Fuck me.”
Her voice is impassioned as she chants in his ear in what can only be described as a haze of sexual delirium. Her breath comes out hot and moist on his neck.
He’s going to have some very erotic dreams starring Nikita for the near foreseeable future.
Her cries spur him on even more.
Michael cups her face in his hands and breathes her in. Into her lips he makes his confession.
“I need you,” he tells her. Nikita’s eyes widen at his words and she tenses sharply in his arms.
Her second climax feels just as strong as her first and Michael immediately follows after her.
Their embrace is all encompassing. The feel of Nikita in his arms, as she catches her breath after their lovemaking, is one of his life’s pleasures.
They reluctantly separate once it becomes apparent that too much time has gone by. They quickly right their clothes and stand closely next to each other trying to absorb each other just a little while longer. Her fingers toy with the cuff of his jacket as if righting it was of the utmost importance.
Despite their powerful encounter, she won’t look at him. Michael tips her chin upwards so he can look into her eyes.
He’s taken slightly aback to see self-reproach shimmering in her eyes.
Nikita is the first to break the silence.
“Sorry for the last couple of days,” She offers apologetically. “There’s no excuse. My skin…everytime I see you, Michael, I just want to touch you. I want to feel your presence and know that I can’t.” She laughs bitterly. “I think I'm going through withdrawals.”
“I know the feeling.” Michael squeezes her shoulder, wanting to provide her comfort. She looks so stricken.
“How do you do it…power through it?”
“Years of practice…on top of years of denial.”
“Hmm,”she offers non-committedly.
“Let’s get going,” He massages the nape of her neck in what he hopes is a soothing manner. “Second team will be here shortly.”
Michael kisses her softly and together they gather their gear for pickup.
5. Tonight, we'll meet at the dark end of the street
Nikita doesn’t really want to think about the dirty graffiti that paints the bathroom stall, but she has to focus on something. Michael’s erratic breathing on the back of her neck, his hands roughly kneading her breasts underneath her top, and his shaft, thick with need inside her, has her ready to crawl out of her own skin. Every nerve ending on her body is on fire.
Nikita whines in frustration. She wants to come. Michael twists her nipples and the pleasure/pain causes her to cry out. She reaches behind her and cups Michael’s bare ass as he surges inside her.
“I can’t,” she moans.
“You will.” And he drops one hand to stimulate her clit.
“Oh God!”
She can’t believe they’re doing this. Anyone could walk in on them. Someone has walked in on them. They weren’t Section…she thinks.
Nikita could see the look of jealousy that crossed Michael’s eyes when the man at the bar hit on her. It was part of the mission profile, but that didn’t stop Michael’s eyes from wanting to tear the man apart.
He told her once that he was jealous of Gray. He just couldn’t admit that to himself until much later. He justified his actions as simply trying to rein in his wayward material. He told himself he was just being protective of her and that there was no harm in him looking out for her. In reality he was dealing with some troublesome burgeoning romantic feelings towards her. So, denial was the way to go for Michael, especially since he was going home to Elena and Adam on most nights. He couldn’t allow his feelings to derail his long term mission.
Nikita was at a loss when he shared that with her. It was a lot for such an intensely private man like Michael. He told her because they were lovers, but Nikita could also tell that he told her because they were friends. She’d kissed him then and she grasped his hand tightly. The kiss eventually ended. She held his hand until he had to leave.
Michael’s jealousy today was of a different sort. It was much more territorial, because now they were together.
For once, Nikita wasn’t dressed provocatively to attract the attention of every man within a five mile radius. Instead of a dress, she wore jeans and a T-shirt. Instead of heels, she wore sneakers. Instead of heavy makeup, she wore lip gloss and chewed gum. In short, she was comfortable.
The mission itself was simple. Chat up the target and get him outside for pickup. She’d done it a dozen times. Sure, he was a little too handsy, but she took care of it.
She led her inebriated and smitten target down a hallway near the bathrooms where a side door opened to the alleyway.
An operative named Davis pulled the target into their van and Nikita retreated back into the bar towards her egress point.
She collided directly into Michael, who was blocking the hallway.
Michael had this dark gleam in his eye. It was a look she’s seen before. Most often it proceeded a very enthusiastic round of lovemaking that left her muscles delightfully sore. The sensation would keep her company as she went about her day at Section.
“Come with me,” he ordered before grabbing a hold of her hand and led her into the single stall bathroom.
Michael tapped his comm unit and told Birkoff that he spotted some of the local drug traffickers their target normally dealt with. They saw the target with Nikita and he wanted to avoid a confrontation. He asked for pick up at an alternate egress point in 15 minutes.
Nikita couldn’t help but quirk her eyebrow at the timeframe they had to work with.
Michael’s good but a dirty bathroom with lewd drawings on the walls didn’t exactly put her in the mood.
That was seven minutes ago and now Nikita cranes her head back and is immediately greeted by Michael’s lips. Their lips slide against each other. Michael slips his tongue in her mouth and possesses everything she has to offer.
Everything that she has is his.
She sucks on Michael’s tongue and she feels a deep moan reverberate in his chest. He continues to take her fast and hard and she digs her fingers in his ass. He swells inside her and she feels so incredibly full.
She’s so close. She’s almost there.
With a final aggressive flick of Michael’s fingers on her clit she’s there. Her body releases the electric tension that had been wound up inside her. Michael grunts into her shoulder and he too comes intensely.
Once their heart rates have slowed down enough, he carefully parts her hair at the nape and drops a series of soft kisses to the back of her neck.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh, I'm great,” she remarks, a little woozy. “That was one hell of an orgasm...tingly”
Michael laughs softly into the skin of her neck.
“And that’s despite the fact that this stall had some very uninspiring dick drawings.”
At that Michael laughs again, deeper, and Nikita can’t help but think that his laugh is something she desperately needs to hear more often.
They part and Michael helps to clean her up.
“We have two minutes to meet our egress point.”
Nikita nods in agreement and turns to exit the bathroom. She gets two steps before Michael grabs her wrist and brings her back to him.
He cups her face, fingers her lower lip with his thumb and gives her one soul shattering kiss.
Their kiss is brief but potent.
It’s possessive. It’s exhilarating. It’s them.
-30-