For Love or Freedom

Her eyes opened. She had a headache. They closed again. For just a moment, it seemed almost peaceful. The sound of birds outside her window. The smell of dawn. The satin sheets against her skin. That pounding pain behind her eyes...
She turned her head and looked across the empty bed. Grayson was outside her bedroom door, pawing to get in. Babs was up in the window, eyeing the birds. Beside that, she was alone. She raised an arm, waking up her muscles, and rubbed hard at her forehead. Grayson meowed loudly and scratched some more. Good thing that cat didn't have claws...
She sat up, hands running down over her naked body, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She would have loved to stay put for another hour or so, but she knew she couldn't. The time had run out. The time to think, the time to cry, the time to feel emotion, to be weak. She had to stop it now. She didn't have a choice.
She had a job to do.
She glanced at the clock. Six thirty. The alarm had already rung, and she'd shut it off in her sleep. That's okay. She liked it that way. She stood and stretched, and somewhere in the back of her mind she decided to start her new job with a bang. The fifty thousand dollar advancement on the two million had been more than enough to give her a new wardrobe. Hell, she knew they would've given her five hundred thousand if she'd asked for it. But she only took what she needed, paying attention to cost as if it were her own money she was spending. It was so firmly ingrained in her, having grown up poor, that she did it without thinking. High prices still made her cringe, even when they were well within her budget.
She paid in cash - it was untraceable - and stocked up on dress casual. The job she'd had to quit at the auto shop had never required her to be quite so well-dressed. Of course, as this persona, she'd never had a job in such a place. She had to remember that. She had to set this persona in her mind.
She rummaged through her closet for something daring and yet presentable. She knew full well the first impression she had to make. She had to appeal to both ends of the spectrum. It was a pair of dark blue slacks - changing her name and her past didn't change the fact that she hated skirts and only wore them when she had to - and a red silk blouse that caught her eye. She lay them out on the bed and walked to the bathroom, stopping along the way to pet Babs.
Grayson scampered toward her, and she stroked his back, all the way down and over his tail until she reached the end of his body. He meowed at her, and she smiled as she stood, and promptly locked him out of the bathroom as she slipped inside.
She turned the taps in the shower to a nice, steamy hot spray. She stepped inside and closed the see through curtain, letting the water pound her face. Her hands fumbled for the lavender scented soap, and she turned her back to the water as she smoothed it across her breast and stomach, her body slowly awakening. She yawned. Okay. She was twenty-five, teaching English, living her dream of becoming her role model. She wanted to teach her students to reach their full potential. Respectable. That was one side of it.
The other side... sultry, seductive, candid. She knew better than to single Aaron out. And she knew better than to make obvious passes on any of them in the presence of the female students in her classes. Even some of the males. She had to choose her targets carefully. And she had to be careful not to get caught until her mission was accomplished. She was going to rack up criminal charges like mad, and she'd likely have to fake a death to get out of them. But it had to be done that way. Because it would come out that Aaron was fucking his teacher when they investigated his death. That was the kind of thing he'd be all too willing to brag about to his friends.
She moved her hand low over the soft mound of dark pubic hair. She let the water pound her face as she reached down further, between her thighs. One slender finger slipped between her sweet lips, her thumb caressing her clit. It came alive as she rubbed it in small circles. It was amazing to her, what she'd learned about her own body since she'd been with Raphael. She didn't really understand it. He'd taught her pleasure, and that was something she'd not been able to teach herself. At least not to this extent...
She stroked slowly, feeling the warm water pound her shoulders as she reached up with her other hand and squeezed her nipple, pinching and pulling, her fingers sliding deeper as she massaged her clit. She leaned her forehead against the tile wall and enjoyed herself, the slow building of pleasure. She liked the fact that she could bring herself to this edge. Higher, faster, stronger...
It took her several minutes, and she didn't mind. Her orgasm built to a frenzy she shouted with a soft, suppressed cry. Her juices released onto her fingers, that female ejaculation that told Raph so much about her. Smiling faintly, she brought her fingers to her lips and tasted herself. Sultry, sexy... She could feel this persona sinking in.
She finished the shower and got dressed. Knee-high nylons, red lacy bra and panties, and her blue spiked heels. She slipped into her slacks and blouse, dried and styled her hair - god, she hated this part, - then walked back into the bathroom. She glanced up at the photo in the corner of the mirror and grabbed her makeup kit. Very slowly and carefully, she painted and blended and formed the long, thin scar along the side of her neck until it matched the one in the picture that she'd worn to the interview. She replaced the second scar on the back of her hand, then switched her stage makeup for the typical eyeliner and lipstick. She painted her face, put on a set of pearl earrings, and grabbed her briefcase as she headed out the door.
***
She was by far the most beautiful teacher he'd ever seen. Certainly moreso than the woman she was replacing. It was rumored that a man was supposed to be taking the position, but she definitely wasn't a man. And she was hot.
She was confident, too. He noticed that right off the bat. Most young teachers didn't stand a chance. They let the kids push them around, or they were cold and hard and just a bitch to be in a class with. But she didn't look like a bitch. That was something they did when they got out of control, and she looked like she knew she was very much in control. He smiled. He liked her.
She sat down on the edge of the desk, crossing her legs elegantly. "I don't know if you guys had assigned seats or not but if you did, you don't have to sit in them." He liked her even more. "I've found that when you can sit where you want, you usually sit in the same spot every day just 'cause it's comfortable, and it makes us get along a little better if I'm not breathing down your neck all the time."
She tilted her head back, kicking her legs slightly. A few students exchanged glances. She was nothing like Mrs. Thatcher, or the dozens of subsititutes they'd had since she'd died. "Lessee..." she mumbled to herself. "Oh!" Her head snapped down again to look at them. "Homework. Lemme tell you how I do homework." She slid off the edge of the desk and stood. "You'll get homework prolly... two or three nights a week but never on the weekends 'cause Iof aof a firm belief that homework on the weekend is..." She walked to the chalkboard and wrote out three words, then pointed to them as she addressed each one. "Illegal, immoral, and fattening. 'Kay?"
A few students snickered, and there was some whispering as she clapped her hands together, dusting them off. "But, the way homework works is that I'll actually collect it about twice a month, and you will never know what day I'm going to collect it on; it'll be different for each class hour. And that'll be your homework grade so you better have it on those days I do collect it."
She walked back to the front of the desk and sat down again. "So. I'm not gonna make you all play stupid name games and stuff like that, 'cause for one thing, it's not my style, and for another thing, I know you all know each other already. You got any questions for me?"
"Are you married?"
She laughed quietly and leaned back. "Nope. Not anytime in the near future."
"Where did you go to school?"
"New York University."
"Are you free on Friday night?"
Her eyes locked on the small crowd of boys huddled in the back corner as they snickered. In spite of the blatent remark, they weren't target material, and she didn't bother with them, only laughed. She looked over the students. Most of them looked pretty bored. A few were interested in what she had to say. Some, including her primary target, were writing.
"Okay, so this is a creative writing class right?" she threw out, glancing up at the clock. This was her last hour of the day and the one creative writing class she had. The rest were all regular English, with a more set-in-stone curriculum. She was glad her target was in this one. It would be easier to get to him through his work. "So I want you guys to creative write. That's your homework for tonight. Do something, anything, that you think is creative writing. I don't care if it's ten words or ten pages. Anything on any topic. And if y'all are quiet, you can go ahead and leave now."
Two dozen eyes went to the clock. Three minutes before the bell, and she was letting them go? "But you gotta be quiet. I don't wanna get in trouble on my first day. First time that happens, I'll never let you leave early again."
They scrambled to get up and get their things together, and she walked around behind the desk again, gathering papers and various other crap that had accumulated throughout the day. In about thirty seconds, all of them had cleared out except for a girl in the front who was still gathering her things, and Aaron. She couldn't help but smile. He was standing, his backpack open and in the chair, but he was still writing, bent over, until the very last second when he couldn't manage it anymore. The notebook slipped into the backpack and he zipped it closed.
"Have a good day, Miss Annaley," the girl smiled as she walked out the door.
"Miss Annaley" nodded in return and glanced at the boy. She hadn't counted on this, and she was very careful about how she approached it. "What are you writing?" she asked quietly.
He jumped, shifting nervously, and cut his eyes to the floor. "I... write books."
"Really?" she smiled. "What kind of books?"
He shifted again. "Action... adventure stuff."
She nodded. Time to end this conversation. He was getting nervous. "I write books too, actually. And short stories." She glanced up at the clock as the bell rang. "Well, I won't keep you. But I'm glad to hear you're using your creativity. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help, huh?"
He nodded slightly and turned away. In an instant, he was gone. She looked after him, and sighed. Introductions were the hardest. The rest should be much easier than this day had been.
***
Leonardo was half asleep. He lay still on the sofa, listening to the sounds coming from the TV, but not particularly interested in whatever happened to be on. He drifted in and out, letting the tension ease out of his cramped, overworked muscles.
A door somewhere in the lair grabbed his attention as it opened. He pulled himself up to look over the back of the couch as Raph stumbled out of his room and into the kitchen, without a word. It was late, and Leo couldn't help but wonder why, exactly, he was even here. He knew Mike and Don were out, together, and had assumed Raphael was gone, too. But he wasn't going to argue. He lay back down on the couch and sighed, eyes closing.
Raph walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed a beer. He popped the cap off on the edge of the counter and let it fall wherever it happened to land. His eyes closed as he raised the bottle and took a long, slow drink. His muscles were tense; he had a headache. He wasn't totally decided on what, if anything, he wanted to do about it. He could go out, but he wasn't real sure where to go. He didn't feel like getting lost in the smoke haze of the bar. Skipping the bar and heading straight to a warm bed sounded nice. But his options for where to do that were limited. And none of them sounded too appealing at the moment. He didn't really want to go out. Maybe he just needed a few hours in the dojo.
He walked back to the doorway, and leaned against it as he took another drink. The TV was on, and he watched it for a moment. Leo was over there, he knew. Splinter was here as well, though he'd been somewhat secluded lately. Raph didn't care. As long as he was alive and doing what he wanted to do, it was none of Raphael's business what all that entailed.
He wondered briefly where Mike and Don were, and why Leo was sleeping on the couch. Something had to be bothering him. It was almost funny, in a sick sort of way, how much things changed around here while Raph was "away". Every so often, he had to stop and look around - reacquaint himself with his life. He sighed. Not now. That time wasn't right now. Right now, he was in serious need of... something. Not sex. Not beer. He didn't know what. He eyed the dojo, and knew that was probably a big part of it. He wondered what the chances were that he could get through a few hours of practice without attracting Leo or Splinter's attention.
The front door opened. Leo was up off the couch in a flash, weapons drawn the instant he saw the shadow. He growled at the familiar figure before he got a good look at her. "Ivy, I told you, do not..." His voice cut off as he smelled blood. A great deal of blood. He saw her expression under the wall of hair in her face. Something was very wrong. She was wearing only a robe and a pair of house slippers, her body battered and bruised, her eyes wide and wild with terror.
Leo resheathed his weapons and stepped closer. "What happened?" he asked. "Why are you bleeding?"
She didn't meet his gaze, shying away a bit. For a moment, she didn't answer. Leo's expression filled with concern. Unwanted houseguest or not, she was hurt. And pretty badly. She was dripping blood on the floor...
"It's... my dad..."
Leo stepped forward and slipped an arm around behind her, guiding her to lean on him. "Your dad? What happened? He hurt you?" Slowly, he led her to the bathroom, well aware of the trail of blood following them.
Ivy nodded mutely, not fighting him. She'd hoped to see Raph, but Leo would do, at least for the moment. She needed help. She felt weak and sick to her stomach... But she couldn't tell him what had happened. "Yeah. He... did this."
Leonardo nudged the bathroom door open and guided her inside. He sat her down on the edge of the tub and propped the door open. Blood was dripping down her leg in a slow stream. "Turn 'round," he guided gently. "Put your feet in the tub and we'll rinse the blood off."
He crouched down as she complied, and brought the first aid kit out from under the sink. The woman winced at the trail of blood that was left behind. She tried to stop crying, but she couldn't keep the tears from flowing down her cheeks. Where was Raphael? She needed him right now...
"Thank you... for your help..."
Leo turned the faucet on and let it warm for a minute, adjusting the stream so it was lukewarm water. The first aid kit went to the countertop, and he reached up to take the handheld shower from its holder. He held it away from her and turned it on, letting the water run through the hose for a moment before handing it to her. "Here."
He had no idea just how far up her body that blood was coming from. He turned his back on her and rummaged through the box for sterile bandages, not sure how many he'd need. Gonna have to get more of these pretty soon...
Ivy gingerly ran the shower up her legs, but she knew the blood went higher than that and she was a little shy about letting Raphael's brother see her naked. She could feel a large cut on her back, one on her shoulder, and one on her hip, all on the same side. But none of those were accessible with the robe still on. Oh come on, Ivy... He's gotta dress it anyways. Sure it's nothing he hasn't seen before...
He turned back around and smiled weakly. There was blood on the shower handle now, coming from down her arm. He cringed. "Um... how, exactly, did you get cut up so bad?" .
Ivy swallowed hard.
"The fuck did you say?"
She's shaking. Her body isn't sure what to think of this sudden violence. Still riding on the tail end of the orgasm he's taken her through, she's suddenly jerked up off the bed by her hair. "Who is he!" He's screaming at her. He's angry.
She's flung like a rag doll across the bedroom, right into the antique mirror beside the dresser. It shatters, sending glass everywhere, and she screams as her skin is cut by the falling pieces. She's sobbing as she tries not to fall. "No one!"she tries frantically. "I didn't say anything, Butch, I swear!"
He growls dangerously. "You fucking bitch, I heard you!"
She crosses her arms over her bare chest, trying to stop shaking so much. She can feel the blood streaming down her body, but she feels no pain over the intense fear. "He's... just... someone I know. A friend."
"Just someone you know!" he cries. "Yer screamin' his goddamn name when I'm fuckin' you and he's just a friend?
She screams as he grabs her by the neck and throws her back into the mirror, grinding her back into the broken glass. "No! Please!"
"You fucking slut..."
Leonardo watched her, noting the fear in her eyes. She looked away as she saw him studying her, and curled into herself. "My... dad... um..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "He threw me...into a mirror. Shattered all over..."
Leo sat down on the edge of the tub and frowned at the knot on her head. He saw that there was blood on her back, seeping through the robe, and frowned as he considered his options. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, but she needed to get cleaned up. He stood up. "I'll be right back." He stood and left the room, the bandages still in their wrappings on the floor. He needed ice, a clean robe or something for her to wear...
Raphael saw him leave, and walk into his own room, and he frowned. He took another quick drink from the bottle and walked to the bathroom, pushing the door open with his foot. He stood still, watching her as she slit the robe a little higher, cleaning blood off her upper thighs. The room smelled like blood, and he could see it all over her and the floor. "Yer dad, huh?"
She nearly dropped the shower at the sound of his voice, and her head spun around. She turned away again quickly, keeping her back to him. "Yeah..." she choked. "My dad."
He stepped into the room and kicked the door closed. He turned, locked it, and stepped forward, toward her, setting the bottle on the counter. "Strip. And gimme that."
She blinked as he took the shower out of her hand, but didn't fight him. Very slowly, she stood, her back still facing him, and shrugged off the robe carefully, wincing at the pain as the glass dug further into her back. Raphael sighed as his eyes surveyed the damage. She had glass embedded in her flesh and she was gonna need help getting it out.
"Yer dad's in jail, Ivy," he reminded her, his voice emotionless. He used one hand to pull her hair aside and the other raised the stream of water to her shoulderblade.
She blinked in surprise. "What? How'd you know that?"
He brushed his fingers feather lightly over the glass in her shoulder, clearing it away. It wasn't embedded too deeply. "You told me. 'Member?" He ran the water, and his hand, down over her back, careful notcauscause any further damage. There was one long gash on her back that needed to be bandaged. Most of it wasn't all that bad. Just bled a lot because there was a lot of open surface area, tiny cuts all over her.
He handed her the shower head back and reached for the bandages on the floor just as he heard the door handle rattle. "I got it, Leo." His voice was a bit cold, on the verge of a command, and there was no argument from outside.
"I'm leaving a robe out here..." Leo answered through the door.
"Yeah, Leo, thanks," Raphael answered, slightly annoyed. He turned back to Ivy. "Anyways. You were prolly too drunk to remember anyhow."
Ivy furrowed her brow. She couldn't remember telling him about her father. Drunk, though, that explained a lot. She swooned as she tried to raise the shower, and leaned forward against the wall for support, moaning slightly. Raphael watched her carefully. "Siddown," he ordered gently. "You lost a lot of blood here, we don't need you passin' out."
She half sat, half fell to the edge of the tub. He watched carefully, ready to catch her if need be. But she settled, and he grabbed the towel off the wall before dropping to his knees beside her. He studied the gash, and debated whether or not it needed stitches, but it wasn't really all that deep. Just long. He dried the area with the towel and reached for the antibiotic ointment to smear on the inside of the sterile wrap. "So you wanna tell me the truth?" he questioned.
She shifted slightly, a little dizzy. "My boyfriend. Kinda. It's... more just... a living arrangement."
Right. Boyfriend. He could almost guess what had happened. He set the ointment aside and grabbed the surgical tape. His hand tipped up and placed the medication against her skin, then he taped it in place over the cut. "Uh huh," he mumbled, moving to the next wound. He was going to need a hell of a lot of bandaids...
Her head dropped. His tone suggested he didn't believe her. Probably because she'd never mentioned a boyfriend before. And in fact, she'd lied. He'd asked her once, if she was involved... "Who do you think did this?" she whispered.
"I believe you," he answered, emotionless. "Never said I didn't."
There was a long silence as he worked over her back, one section at a time. Finally he stood, and she looked up at him. He offered herand.and. "Stand. Slow."
She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet very slowly. He turned her around to face him, and she blushed, dropping her eyes to keep from looking at him. His eyes ran down her body slowly. She had significantly more bruising on her front, but not as much blood. The long cut he'd already dressed, and her mangled shoulder where she'd hit, were the worst of it.
The beginnings of brs wes were beginning to form around her neck, and he could tell just how she'd hit the mirror. Her body painted the scene for him. There were small cuts across her chest, but nothing serious. She could take care of them herself. He was just chng fng for glass at the moment. She shifted with mild discomfort under his gaze and careful scrutiny. Now that the blood had been washed away, she felt a little better, but not much. She was still terrified at the thought of going back home, and she prayed he would see that. She prayed he wouldn't send her away.
His eyes lingered for a moment at the bruises along the inside of her thighs, and on her hips. "He always this rough on you?" He'd already seen the back of her body, and he knew this was in no way the result of a consentual dom/sub relationship. She didn't have any welts or marks from those kind of beatings. She'd been raped. And thrown into a mirror. He glanced up and met her eyes. "Or did you try to piss him off?"
His last comment stung her and she looked up at him, daring to glare at him slightly. "I don't try to piss anybody off." Her voice quieted, her gaze dropping again. "He's just... like that sometimes."
She didn't finish. Raph took the shower head from her again and guided the water over her, washing away shards of glass. His hand followed, gently. The touch was more gentle than anything he'd ever given her before. Ivy didn't speak, letting him wash the glass away, noting how careful he was. The touch was more of a caress as it ran across her breasts, down along her stomach, over her hip. He must have just been trying to keep from hurting her, but she wanted to think that his opinion of her had changed, if only a little.
His cold, emotionless expression didn't change, but there was a spark in his eye now. Anger. Not at her, but at the asshole who'd done this to her. It didn't matter who she was or what she'd done, she was a woman. any any man who had the nerve to do this to any woman deserved to have the shit beat out of him.
He didn't speak to her, but lowered the shower head and turned the water off, then let it fall. He stepped back, walked to the door, and opened it a crack, grabbing the robe outside and then closing it again. He set it on the counter, then turned to face her again. He slipped one arm around behind her waist, pulling her up and out of the tub easily and setting her gently on the floor. She held him for support, but let go as she felt her feet touch the mat.
In a sudden and unexpected movement, he leaned into her and kissed her lips lightly, gently probing at her. She gave a small squeak of surprise, eyes widening then slowly sliding closed as she relaxed into him. His hand slipped a little lower, resting on her hip, and his lips closed over hers, kissing her gently, thoroughly. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as the kiss deepened and she lightly entwined her tongue with his. She almost whimpered in disappointment as he pulled away slowly and handed her the robe, his other hand still resting on her hip.
"Put this on," he whispered, his lips still close to hers. "Go crash in my room."
She nodded slightly and brought the robe up between them, clutching it over her chest instinctively. "Okay."
He forced a small smile and turned away from her, walking out of the bathroom. He moved through the living room, ignoring his brother's calling after him, and right out the front door.
***
He was on the sofa, watching wrestling on the TV, drinking a beer. It wasn't his first. There were three empty bottles lying on the floor beside the sofa, and two more full ones sitting on the stand above his head, waiting for him. Raphael's eyes narrowed as he watched through the fire escape window. Slowly, carefully, he wedged the tip of his sai into the window and pried it open. Immediately, he spun back around the edge of the wall. He doubted the guy was sober enough to hear anything, but he'd just made a sound and it was a force of habit to keep hidden. He gave it a moment, then jumped up and slipped into the apartment silently, behind the man on the couch.
He climbed down off the kitchen ter,ter, glad there were no dishes or breakable things here to avoid, and landed silently on the floor. He knew this was her apartment. He'd been here before. He knew this bastard was the one responsible for the blood. He recognized him.
"Who's that?"
Her eyes shift to the photo on the bedside table and she tenses noticeably. "No one."
He laughs quietly, nuzzling his face in her hair. "You keep his picture on your bedside table and he's no one?" he whispers. "I don't buy it."
She reaches for it and places it face down against the surface. "He's just someone I used to know."
"Boyfriend?"
"Yeah, kinda."
"Current boyfriend?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure."
He pulls closer to her naked body, kissing her shoulder gently. She's lying, and he knows it. But he's not going to call her on it. It's none of his business.
The man gave a loud, raunchy, raucous belch and then dropped the empty bottle to the floor, reaching for another. On the TV screen, one of the wrestlers slammed another to the mat and then reached for a nearby folding chair. The crowd was going wild and while he was drunk, the figure on the couch was pretty heavily into it as well. "Yeah! Give the sonuvabitch the chair!"
Raphael slipped down the hall silently, carefully gaguing his surroundings. He knew this place, but he wanted to be sure there was no other guests in the house he had to be aware of. He followed the trail of blood down the hallway and cracked open her bedroom door. The shattered mirror was still all over the floor, the blankets off of the bed and in a ruffled heap beside it. The air smelled of blood and booze and sex, and a quiet growl escaped Raphael's throat. He turned away, quickly checked the other rooms, and returned to the living room, his own blood boiling.
The Enemy took a sip of his beer and belched again, cursing loudly as the wrestler he was rooting for took a suplex to the ground. The other guy should've been down for the count after taking the chair, but he'd still managed to get up anyways. Raphael moved silently toward his prey, and saw the remote on the back of the couch. Without missing a beat, he picked it up, not making a sound or even offering a whisp of air. His movements were carefully measured, and he touched nothing but the remote, careful to keep his shadow off of the couch. Not that he thought it would be noticed...
He raised the remote, but the TV didn't turn off. Either it was the wrong remote or the batteries were dead. Either way, Raphael was losing his limited amount of patience. He reached to his belt, pulled one of his sai and sent it on a direct course into the television screen. There was a loud crash, sparks flew, and Raphael knew he'd just limited his time frame to get out of here unnoticed. The yelling that would inevitably ensue would alert neighbors.
Butch didn't see anything or hear anything until the weapon suddenly pierced the screen of his TV, just as the ref was making the countdown to a knockout. He was on his feet in an intant, albeit unsteadily, and he wheeled around. Who the hell had the fucking nerve to interrupt his wrestling? He saw a figure, and snarled. "Hey, what the fuck's your problem, pal?"
Raphael's head lowered, and he growled deep in his throat. In one quick movement, he was over the back of the couch. He grabbed the Enemy by the neck, cutting off any attempt at speech, and guided him none-too-gently to the wall, pinning him a foot off the floor. His other hand was ready to go for his remaining weapon if there was any threat of attack, but Raph didn't think there would be.
Butch choked as the hand collided with his throat, gasping for air as his back slammed into the wall. He stared at his attacker, but was too drunk for it to really sink in that he was about to get the shit beat out of him by a bigass turtle. He would've liked to ask who the fuck this freak was or thought he was, but that wasn't really possible with a big hand around his throat.
A low, animalistic growl escaped Raphael, his eyes narrowing into slits. "Your girlfriend. Ivy. She's hurt. Got any idea how she got hurt?"
Raph's grip loosened around his vocal chords, giving him a little space to talk, but not enough to even think he could possibly be in control of this situation. The Enemy coughed and glared, not bothering to answer his question. Now that he could speak, there were some other things on his mind. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"
Raph set him down on his feet, and swept up his weapon in one swift movement. The Enemy dropped to the floor and coughed again. He might have fallen on his ass if not for the fact he was still pinned. Raph's hand pulled back, the tip of the blade going to his throat, and pressing just hard enough to leave a thin trickle of blood. "Yer gonna learn real fast, asshole. I'm only gonna ask you shit once before I start slicin' off body parts. Starting with yer dick and ending with yer head. Did. You. Hurt. Your. Girlfriend." God help this asshole if he lies about it...
Butch barely registered the pain, sweat trickling down his face at the turtle's threatening words. He didn't care who this guy was, but what he did with his girlfriend wasn't anybody's business. "Why the fuck do you care?
Raph's hand went to his shoulder, holding him steady as his weapon dropped and sliced cleanly over his thigh, from his hip inward, splitting fabric and leaving a deep gash. He wasn't fucking around. "Strike one, mother fucker. What'd you do to 'er?"
Butch howled in agony as the blade tore across his thigh, but he didn't budge. This guy didn't have any business being in his home, let alone interrogating him about what he did with his girlfriend. She was his and his alone to do with as he pleased. "None of your fuckin' business!"
Raphael could've probably run him through right then and there, but he decided to give him one. More. Chance. Three strikes, after all. He raised the weapon to the side of his neck, the tip of the blade right up under his ear. He growled low, animalistic. "You got one last chance to answer me. Don't think I won't kill you."
Butch spit in his face, was too drunk and angry to care how close to death he was. These warnings meant nothing to him and the moment this freak gave him the chance, he was ready to kick his ass back to whatever planet he came from. "She's mine, freak, and I can do with her what I want!"
It took a half a second. One clean cut. By the time his brain actually realized what his hand was doing, there was no way he could've stopped it if he wanted to. He had no sympathy for scum like this in the first place, and he'd certainly not developed any for this asshole as of late. Blood sprayed him before he stepped back and let the Enemy fall, his face suddenly expressionless.
The anger was gone, even before he'd completed the cut. Or at least, the outward anger was. He could still feel it boiling inside of him, but it didn't guide his hands or shape his expression. He watched the man crumple into a bloody heap on the floor, eyes cold, and wiped his face with the back of his hand. He leaned down to grab his other sai from the remains of the TV, and then stood and left the apartment, not bothering to wash off the blood across the top of his plastron and neck.
***
It was almost midnight. If he was going to come, he'd have shown up already. She sighed. She might as well go to bed. But she wanted to see him tonight. She shivered slightly and curled into herself tighter, making herself small in a corner of the sofa. She was in jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, the three inch handbook of procedures and shit she'd never use resting in her lap. But she at least had to be vaguely familiar with the school's policies.
Her mind wandered. The detention policies were the last thing she needed to worry about. She needed to get her identity in order, and mantain it. She needed to focus, to block out the things that would get in her way... She cringed at that thought. Even those things she didn't want to block out.
The door flew open. She jumped in surprise, almost relaxed again before she saw the blood, then was instantly on her feet. "Holy shit, Raph! Are you hurt?" She stood in place, not mother henning, by any means. But with the spray across his chest and neck, she wasn't sure if it was his blood or someone else's. She cringed inwardly. This was not the time for him to show up hurt...
"I'm fine," he growled.
She studied him for a moment, and frowned. "Fine as in not going to die or fine as in it's not your blood?"
He stalked towards the bathroom to wash. He wanted the Enemy's blood off of him. He couldn't stand the smell of it. It wasn't that the blood itself disgusted him, but the knowledge that it came from such an asshole that made his stomach turn. "Not my blood," he answered emotionlessly. "Don't worry 'bout it."
His anger surged. That man had been scum. Beyond scum. Gave scum a bad name. And stupid, on top of it. Did he really think he could threaten his way out of death? He'd even had a few chances. But no more. There was relief to be had in the fact that there was one less sonofabitch on the streets.
He realized he wasn't alone in the bathroom, and that the woman staring at him was not happy. "So, uh... what crime scene did you come from?" Her voice was cold. "Should I be expecting the police to show up at my door following a trail?"
Raph knelt next to the bathtub and turned on the water. He didn't look up. He didn't owe her any answers and her tone was a complete turn off. So much for relaxing here tonight. It almost would've been better for him to go straight home and face Splinter than to deal with this. "I didn't come from any crime scene and the cops won't come here," he shot back. "They can't follow me so stop worryin' 'bout it, babe."
She watched him, nodding slightly. It wasn't that she actually thought the cops could follow him. And it wasn't that she particularly cared how he'd gotten the blood on him. But right now, she couldn't take any chances. Right now, her entire existence was for the sake of this job. And if he led the police or anyone else to her door... she was gonna have a much bigger problem than winning the kid's heart. "So that blood... was... what? Staged? Not human? You take up working at a butcher shop? 'Cause I really can't think of any legal reason why it might end up all over you. And the last thing I need is to get caught up in a homicide investigation."
Raph sighed heavily, wondering just why she was being so damn nosy tonight. She never worried about what he did or where he'd come from before. She was on edge and he could only imagine why. He finished rinsing the blood off himself and made sure it all flowed down the drain before drying himself off. "For cryin' out loud, will you just relax? Geeze! What's with you tonight?"
"Well, I'm not thrilled with the fact that you're sittin' here and lyin' to me and I'm even less happy about the prospect that you're bringing your problems here to wash them down the drain," she shot at him, annoyed. "You wanna slit throats, you need to go somewhere else and wash off the blood."
She had no idea how close to the truth she was with that statement. Her arms crossed over her chest and she watched him, eyes narrowed, demanding an explanation. He glared back at her and tossed the towel aside. She hadn't minded any of his business before and he sure as hell wasn't gonna start letting her stick her nose in it now. Her tone irritated him and he began to consider just getting the hell out of here and dealing with her another night. He didn't need this right now.
"Look, it ain't any of your business. Just personal shit. S'got nothin' to do with you and the cops ain't gonna trail me here, so just chill."
"You're makin' it my business when you're bringin' it into my home." She was on edge. Nothing he said was going to change that. Coming from the scene of a crime or confrontation... people, and not just the cops, had reason to investigate her. She hadn't moved in six months, and that was a long time. There were people who wanted her dead if they could find her.
Raph pushed his way past her and back out into the living room. Her tone and words reminded him of someone else, and he was getting very pissed very fast. If she didn't cut it out, he might very well say or do something he regretted and he knew it. "Nobody followed me, a'ight?"
She followed him, at a few paces back. "You don't know that." Her voice was cold, but worried.
Raph wheeled around towards her. Now he knew something was up, but he didn't know what. She'd never worried about him coming in from business or questioned his methods before. She'd never questioned whether or not anyone followed him and her sudden obsessive worriedness was starting to grate on his nerves. "Yes, I do know. So just drop it, ok?"
"No, I won't just drop it," she shot back. "Look, if you're bleeding, if you're hurt, that I can put up with, that I can understand. But coming here and running even the slightest risk..." She ran her fingers through her hair, nervously. "You can't do that."
He glared at her. "I don't know what your problem is tonight, but I know it's not me showin' up here bloody. Whatever you're worried about, you don't have to worry about, so just let it drop, ok? I'm more careful than you think I am."
Her eyes narrowed. That sounded almost condescending... and she didn't like it. "My problem is that I can't have you putting me in danger right now. A month ago, it wasn't a big deal; now it is. And I don't care how careful you are; I'm careful too. But there's some risks you just don't take, no matter how careful you're being."
Raph sighed. This was new. Whatever her reasons were for the sudden change, it wasn't worth him staying and getting reamed out by her for no fucking reason. If she was going to be like this, he wasn't going to stick around. "You won't be in danger so long as I'm around, but if you're gonna start coppin' an attitude with me, I won't be stickin' around. He turned toward the door. "Yant ant me to go, fine. I'll go. But don't start shit with me to do it."
She nodded. "Yeah, you need to go. And don't come here after makin' waves in the city. Even if you are being careful." Her voice was cold and hard, on the verge of a command.
Raph snorts and opened the back door. If that's how she felt then he knew when he'd worn out his welcome. He'd just let her sweat for a few days before even thinking of coming back. Perhaps by then she'd finally cooled her heels and would be in a better mood.
The door slammed. She glared at it for a moment, then sighed. She turned, and grabbed her sais from the weapons rack, then checked all her doors and windows before going to bed, weapons in hand.
***
Raphael was less worried about being quiet than he remembered being in a long time. He walked in through the front door and made a beeline to his room. Michaelangelo glanced up from the sofa as he walked into the lair. "Hiya, Raph, you're home..." He paused as Raphael's door slammed closed, rattling the walls of the lair. "... early."
Raph remembered too late that his room was occupied. He froze inside the door, in the dark, and wondered if by chance she hadn't woken up with that. The last thing he wanted to do was talk and cuddle right now.
"Welcome home." Her voice sounded very groggy. She'd been asleep. "Want the bed?"
"No," he answered coldly. He looked around for a reason to have come in here, but found none. He debated where else to go, and realized how limited his options were at the moment. What the hell had he been thinking telling her to sleep here? He'd been thinking he wouldn't be here tonight. Not that he would've stayed the night with any woman, but he would've spent a few hours there, at least, and probably slept on the couch when he finally did come home and everyone was in bed. As it was, Mike was out there, and he had no desire to talk to him.
Not willing to leave the room and have to face the rest of his family, he sat down on the very edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands. His hands were still shaking slightly, though from adrenaline, anger, or simple frustration, he wasn't sure. Ivy watched the darkness, the sleepiness slowly wearing off. He was upset about something, but she knew better than to push him. He just needed to calm down first and then he'd be more talkative. Not that he was talkative to begin with, but it was a start. "Anything I can do?"
His voice was ice cold, laced with biting sarcasm. "Yeah. Next time choose a better boyfriend."
Ivy ignored his tone, lighting the candle on the bedside table and moving to sit on the edge of the bed. She curled the robe around her and held it closed. "Is that what this is about?" she whispered. "Did you talk to him?"
"He's not an issue anymore," Raphael answered coldly.
She nodded slowly. "Well, I wanna thank you for that." She glanced over at him and a faint smile crossed her lips. He looked so dark and dangerous in the flickering light. And he was on her side. He was protecting her. She knew she had nothing at all to be afraid of as long as he was around her. "You make me feel so safe when you're around, y'know that?"
"Yeah, well, he wouldn't have been a problem in the first place if you'd fuckin' stand up for yourself." He glanced at her, and spoke in a tone that was completely void of emotion. "Yer worth more than that, Ivy. No asshole's got the right to hit you. Not yer dad, not yer boyfriend, no one. I don't wanna see yer ass in a dumpster somewhere in a couplea years, a'ight?" He looked away and stood up again. It took him a minute to realize he had nowhere to go now that he was on his feet. He paced a few steps. "Anyway, yer gonna stay here a few nights 'til shit calms down up there. He's not a problem anymore but the cops will be."
Ivy shrugged. She wasn't gonna argue. She felt safer down here than anywhere else. "Fine by me. And thank you. I mean that. Y'know you're the first person to actually be this nice to me?"
He didn't look toward her. "Yeah, well. Hittin' girls ain't right," he replied, emotionless. "No matter who they are. An' like I said, I don't wanna see you dead 'causea some bastard like him."
His hand reached up to rub at his shoulder, trying to ease some of the angry tension out of his knotted shoulders. Ivy stood up and walked over to him, ignoring his emotionlessness as she reached up to massage his shoulders, kneading at the hard muscles. "You're tense," she whispered.
Raph sighed, and let his own hand drop, allowing her to massage at his sore shoulders. "Yeah, I know."
His voice was still emotionless, but perhaps just a little bit less cold than it had been a moment ago. Ivy didn't ask. She smiled faintly, feeling a bit better in hearing his kind words, even though his voice held no emotion. He did care about her, even though he'd tried not to. "Y'know, this would work a lot better if you were sitting down," she breathed. "C'mon. Lemme do this for you now. You've done so much for me tonight..."
He sighed, and debated walking away from her. But her hands felt good on his tense muscles, and he wasn't going to object if she really wanted to massage this soreness away. He stepped back, slipping an arm around her waist casually as he walked back to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, his hand running down over her hip and thigh before ending up in his lap. She tried not to smile wider as he casually caressed her, knowing that he didn't really mean to, but didn't necessarily care, either. She knelt behind him on the bed and resumed her massage, working at the tense knots in his shoulders.
"You're so strong," she whispered. "All of these muscles... It must really hurt when the tension gets like this."
He listened to her words, and for a moment, remained silent. His head tilted to the side, stretching out the muscles where she was working and then leaning back to relax them. "I really am grateful for what you did," she whispered. "You're so brave and strong... I never have to be afraid when I'm with you."
"Guys like that got no balls, baby," he answered plainly. "I ain't just gonna sit back and watch him get away with that shit. If he wants to fight, let him to it with someone his own size."
She smiled and massaged harder, feeling the tension begin to slip away. He could deny it all he wanted, but she still thought he was pretty nice to her. A little bit of a stubborn goat and a snapper, but still sweet. "Well... he's not gonna be mean to me anymore. Maybe now I'll just be able to break up with him and get it over with." She sighed. She would've done that long ago if she'd had the option. She hoped Raphael had managed to talk some sense into him. "It's still sweet of you to look out for me like that. I 'ppreciate it."
He smiled faintly as he suddenly realized the prospect of getting laid tonight was still very much alive. He debated for about half a second as to whether or not he actually wanted it. From her, it did make him think twice. He knew damn well she wouldn't let it go when it was over. But he could feel his muscles unclenching, his body slowly easing down from the anger and adrenaline high. He wanted to relax. He needed to relax. Even if it meant humoring her for a while.
"Yeah, well... I dunno 'bout sweet," he mumbled, "but I did what I had to do. I care 'bout you Ivy. Not that I wanna go pick out curtains or anything, but yeah, I don't wanna see you dead 'causea some asshole like that.
Ivy chuckled softly. His words hardly bothered her. Slowly she wound down the massage and slipped her arms around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. She wasn't ready to pick out curtains yet, either, but at least he did care about her. That was all that mattered. "I think it's rather sweet. And it makes me feel all safe and sound. You make me feel that way, Raphael."
"Mmm." He reached up and placed his hands over hers where they joined on his plastron. "You should feel safe here." His hands began a slow, gentle massage up her arms as his voice dropped to a whisper. "You are safe."
Ivy sighed contentedly and just held him, letting him caress her arms. Of course she felt safe. She'd never felt otherwise, even when he'd been snappish. "I know," she murmured.
His hands worked upward slowly, under the loose sleeves of the thick robe. He couldn't reach up high enough with his arms crossed to touch her shoulders. She leaned in to lightly kiss his neck, pausing to inhale his scent. He smiled faintly. Oh yeah. He was gonna get laid tonight.
Not liking the limited freedom of movement with his back to her, he pulled away and turned, grabbing onto her shoulders lightly, careful of the wounds he'd dressed, and pushing her back onto the bed. Ivy let him lay her back, gazing up him him as she withdrew her arms from around his shoulders. She didn't drop them, simply moved them out of the way long enough for him to turn around and lay over her.
He slid one arm under her head, the other coming to rest at her hip as it dawned on him that she wasn't wearing anything under the robe. His smile widened as he looked down on her, and he pusht ast aside, replacing it with a look of sincerety. "Stay here tonight," he whispered quietly. "Stay with me." He leaned down, kissing her neck gently. "Let me protect you..."
She massaged lightly, her nails brushing against his skin. She saw the look on his face had changed from dark and brooding to bordering on lustful and she liked where this was heading. "I want to stay with you," she answered. "I want you to protect me."
The hand at her waist ran up slowly, caressing her side, up over her ribs and back down again. She shivered as his rough fingers brushed against her soft skin. He pulled back from her neck and looked down on her, massaging her scalp with the hand under her head. "He's got no right treatin' you like that..." He nuzzled his face against hers before kissing her lips lightly a few times. "Lemme show you how a real man treats a woman..."
She kisses him back lightly, gazing into his eyes to see nothing there but pure lust that matched her own. Her fingers slipped just beneath the rim of his shell, lightly stroking the skin where his shoulders connected to his carapace. "Yes," she whispered. "Please."
His hand moved back down to her thigh, and he touched skin there. He breathed against her lips as his fingers slipped up, untying the robe, crawling upward along the outside of her thigh to her hip. "Let me take you, baby," he breathed. "Let me rock your world."
He kissed her full on the mouth, his lips claiming hers, tongue slipping out to probe for entrance. Her lips parted, her tongue eagerly seeking his out. Oh yeah... She was hooked. She gently stroked over his shoulders and along the rim of his carapace before moving across his arms and down to his plastron. Slowly she trailed her fingers along the edges of his plastron, lightly brushing against the sensitive skin of his ribcage with only the tips of her fingernails. She knew he didn't like to be touched there.
His hands parted the robe, feeling inside of it and at the same time making his position a little better if she decided to get a little too liberal in touching his sides. She shivered a little as the cooler air met her bare skin, but she didn't mind. His fingers stroked the soft sides of her breasts as he kissed her deeply, moving against her as his tongue and hands and pulse all found that familiar rhythm. She kissed him hungrily, matching his pace as her nipples hardened from a combination of the cool air and his expert touch. She traced the grooves in his plastron upward, then reached up to remove his bandana.
Raphael let her untie the knot behind his head, then slowly pulled away, leaving it in her hands. He spread the robe wide open, exposing her gorgeous rack, and his eyes moved up and down her body as he stood and removed his belt methodically. If he didn't get the weapons off pretty soon, one or both of them would end up bleeding. Raph didn't mind blood, but he knew it might not be such a turn on for her. He chuckled to himself at the thought, and lowered the belt and sais to the floor.
Ivy took the opportunity to sit up and remove the robe. Her fingers twisted in the bandana for a moment before she let it fall to the floor beside the bed. He crawled back to her, straddling her thighs, and his hands moved up from her hips along her sides, crawling up her ribs one at a time. She moaned softly and shivered as his fingers brushed along her ribs, reaching down to touch him again as she brought her knees up.
The candlelight flickered, and reminded him of the bruises on her body. He growled just slightly under his breath before cutting off that thought. He didn't want to get pissed off again, and the Enemy had already been dealt with. But he'd have to be careful. Neck, thighs, and hips were bruised. He sighed, and leaned down over her, bracing his weight on his arms as he brushed her lips gently. "You comfortable?" he whispered.
Ivy leans up to nuzzle him, trying to soothe away the angry growl she'd heard rising in his throat. She wanted to calm him before he got angry again and this was probably a very good way to get him to relax. She nipped at his neck before trailing her tongue along his throat, tasting his skin. "Yeah. I'll be fine."
He nuzzled against her sucking gently on her skin as his plastron rubbed against her hot breasts. She sighed contentedly and massaged the back of his lightly with her fingers while her other hand rested on his shoulder. His hand moved down, over her side again. "Will be?" He didn't give her a chance to answer. The hand at her waist slipped carefully underneath her and he rolled onto his back, pulling her over the top of him so that she wasn't lying on the wounds on her back. "How's that? Better?" His hands roamed down to caress her ass, down to the smooth, soft curve of her thighs.
She blushed slightly, in spite of herself. She'd never done it in this position before, though she wasn't about to complain about the view. She adjusted slightly on her knees so she was straddling his hips. "Yeah. Thanks." She smiled faintly. "Y'know...I've never done it like this before."
He grinned, hands moving over her front and to her hips, taking posession. "You should try it then," he answered, his voice light and maybe almost on the border of playful. "S'fun."
He curled in just slightly so he could cup her ass, and gave her a light squeeze, then moved his hands down her thighs to her knees. He was insanely gentle with her, but he could feel the pressure beginning to build up beneath his plastron and he wasn't too sure just how gentle he was going to be able to be by the time he was through with her. Still, with her on top of him, it would be a little easier to let her set the pace.
His eyes ran down her torso, and the view he had with her seated at his waist. He wasn't objecting either. Even with the little bandages all over, she was still hot. She moaned softly and massaged his plastron as she began to rock back and forth on top of him, rubbing her damp sex against his lower plates. It was a new position for her and she quickly realized just how much she liked it. It was also easier on her back. She found it didn't hurt so much to sit like this instead of laying like she had been. How considerate of him. She smiled and leaned down to kiss and nibble at the edges of his plastron, her nails scraping lightly along the creases of the plates.
A quiet, barely audible moan escaped him as he felt her warm breath and light touches. "Mmm... yeah..." He cringed at the painful constriction inside his shell and shifted slightly. "Baby? Move down my legs a bit, will ya? Jus' fer a sec..."
She paused and looked at him for a moment, noting the tension on his face, then scooted back over his shins, watching him intently. Her hands lightly massaged the tops of his thighs as she watched his face, wondering what he wanted her down here for. She quickly realized as he sighed deeply and relaxed, allowing his shaft to drop down between his legs. "Ah... yeah... that's better..."
One hand dropped from her to give himself a few long, satisfying strokes, just enough to wake up the nerves. She smiled, one hand reaching down to trail her fingertips lightly along his shaft, beside his own hand. "You're so big..." she breathed, her eyes full of lust. "Mmm... I can't wait to feel you inside of me..."
He sighed deeply as he felt her fingers brush him, pulling his own hand back and allowing it to rest on his thigh. "Yeah... Jus' like that, baby..." He found her thigh, and ran his fingers up and down her soft skin gently. His hips thrust up against her hand, ignoring her weight that made a halfhearted attempt at holding him down. "You know what I like... Mmm..."
She leaned down over him again, and his lips immediately moved to kiss and lick at her neck, sucking gently on her skin. His arms circled her, carefully avoiding her wounds, and held her as she rocked back and forth, rubbing her wet slit against his shaft. One hand was still stroking him. The other was feeling its way up the edge of his carapace. She tipped her head back and moaned softly as he licked and kissed at her skin, the fingers of her free hand reaching the back of his neck. "Mmm... feels good..." she hummed softly, massaging gently with both hands. "You make me feel so good..."
The heady scent of pheromones, the feel of her rubbing gently against his lower plates, the warmth of her sex against his... it all swirled around him, filling him with a raw, primal lust. A low churr in the back of his throat, a mix between a rattling growl and a hum, interrupted any thoughts he had of answering her. At least for the moment. He ran his hands up and down her back gently, kissing and sucking along her collarbone and licking in one long pull all the way up the center of her throat. "Mmm... yeah... wanna... hmmmmm... make yoummm... feel it, baby..."
His words cut off in a low thrum and she smiled, encouraged by his response. She withdrew her hand from between his legs and simply rubbed against him, getting wetter by the second. Her hands roamed over his plastron, fingering along the indentations. "Mmm... I feel it..." she gasped. "I want to feel you inside me... Please..."
He wanted nothing more, in that moment, than to grab her hips and thrust her down onto his shaft. But he remembered the bruises, and his grip was more of a guide, his own hips moving to try and angle his hot, hard shaft to her opening. "Mmmm... C'mon baby... right there... rrrrrrrrnnnn... Go down on me... I..." He paused for a second to pant. "... I dun wanna hurt you..."
Ivy shifted over him slightly, letting his hands be her guide. She gave him a smile. It was sweet for him to be worrying about her comfort. None of the other guys she'd been with had been so kind. Slowly, torturously, she slid down onto him, her wet, hungry slit slowly taking him in. He lowered his hands and pressed his arms hard to the mattress as he felt himself slide into her heat, up into her body. A loud groan escaped him and his hips thrust up, lifting her clear off the bed. "Nnn yeah... Fuck yeah..."
He breathed heavy, and remembered he was supposed to be gentle right now. He didn't want to hurt her, and if she was bruised that bad on the outside, he imagined she probably had bruises inside as well. He pressed his hips back down, and tried to let her set the pace.
She felt the pain inside of her as he lifted her, but let it go. She knew he hadn't meant it - not like Butch - and that he was trying to be careful. He was just so very strong, and so very big. There was no way around the pain. But she didn't care. She wanted this anyways, in spite of it. She wanted to be with him, to feel him inside of her. To lay in his arms and listen to his heavy breathing after they both came so hard... Again she moaned, something that sounded vaguely like his name as she began to rock back and forth, sliding herself up and down on his shaft.
His lips parted, and he panted hard, but managed to get his body back under control. His eyes opened, and he looked up at her, then slowly moved his hands to her again. He grabbed her hips instinctively, but remembered the bruises and instead ran his hands down the outside of her thighs gently, caressing her soft skin. His hips moved against her, but much slower now, matching her rhythm.
She moaned and reached up to caress her own breasts, pinching her nipples, giving him a show as his hands caressed her thighs. Watching her tease herself, the feel of her sliding up and down on his shaft, the sound of her quiet moans... he almost lost it right then. He groaned, tossing his head back, his hands moving up to her sides, past the bruises on her hips. No, he didn't want to hurt her... but this passive shit wasn't his game. He couldn't handle just sitting back and letting her ride him, even if he wanted to.
He let her keep control of the pace, and she increased it slowly as he held her waist, propping himself up slightly and moving back against the headboard. His hands came up, to her ribcage, and he brushed his thumbs back and forth over the sides of her breasts, watching her face. Ivy smiled, her eyes dark with lust, and breathed in deep, filling her chest and offering her breasts to him.
Her own hands slid away, her head arcing back. She moaned as she moved faster and faster, clenching and releasing around him at a measured pace. She slid her hands down along his arms and up over his shoulders, holding onto them for balance as she bounced up and down on him a bit harder, not paying any attention to her bruises now. She was feeling too good to acknowledge any pain that might be felt from them at this point.
The sight of her in the flickering candlelight sent jolts of excitement shooting down to his groin, and he moved up against her, thrusting deeply, groaning as he felt the sensations build. He could come whenever he let himself, and he knew it. But he held off, waiting to see if she intended to ride him to release or if she was going to take a little more... prodding. Not that he intended to be done with her anyways once they both came... He knew he'd be ready to go again in a few minutes, if she could take it.
He concentrated on that thought as he watched her, his eyes locked on her breasts as she bounced up and down over his shaft. He brought his hands around and cupped them, feeling their weight. Oh yeah... She was hot. He looked back up at her face. "Come on, baby..." He squeezed her gently, not nearly enough to hurt her. "I wanna hear you scream for me..."
Ivy bit her lower lip. She knew where they were and she didn't want to scream and alert everyone else to what they were doing. And yet, somehow, the thought of screaming loudly enough for them to hear excited her. She moaned louder and louder as she rocked faster and faster, feeling the tension rise, rippling through her muscles with his encouragement. She wanted to hold off, but she couldn't. Not when they