nishka//loki (nishka) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2017-02-24 12:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | fenrir, loki |
If you want me hold me back
Who: Nish and Abel
What: Nish consults the courthouse library for precedents to help her with her new case.
Where: Orange County Courthouse Library
When: February 22, 2017, 3pm
Rating: NC-17.
Nish was living in a new kind of hell, this case consuming most of her time these days. As horrible as it was, she wanted to spare her secretary from the bulk of the stress, and so had her working on other cases while Nish herself did the research and prepared the case and typed the defence.
So that was why, rather than working on it at the office, she brought her laptop to the courthouse library where she could work in the quiet; no phone calls, no surprise client visits, just old legal precedents that all said the same thing - her client was guilty as sin and would most likely spend the rest of his miserable life in prison.
Which actually cheered her up somewhat.
She sipped her coffee and pulled another of the huge volumes closer to her on the expansive table she was working on, flipping through the pages for more horrific stories to bring up in court.
The library was nearly dead silent, few others making use of it in the late afternoon hour. Abel found himself there solely to double check a few items for another case he was handling. He moved through the stacks in his usual quiet way, fingers running over the files and books on the shelves around him; periodically, he'd pull one down, only to replace it again as what he looked for eluded him. He noted a singular other person sitting at a nearby table, flipping through a book of her own, and recognized her. It came as no surprise to him that their paths would cross again; their workplace kept them in close quarters, their dual assignment of the same case a constant connection. Still, this was outside the otherwise defined boundaries, and he felt that slick, black, oily hate rise up in the back of his throat. So, naturally, he plucked a random book down from the shelves and made his way over to her table.
He dropped it on the surface presented, letting it smack loudly through the silence of the library; then he pulled out a chair, seating himself. "Mind if I join you?"
As before, she felt him before she saw him, her hackles rising even before he came into view. She swallowed, but made the effort to appear as if she hadn’t noticed him, instead focusing with more intent on the words on the page, tracing them with her finger and even pausing to write something down.
Finally she couldn’t ignore him anymore when he sat down, angering her with his mere presence. “Yep,” she said dismissively, still not looking at him, turning to pull another volume from the stack next to her and piling it on top of the one she was already reading, consulting a statute the first book had mentioned.
He flipped his book open to an errant page, not even bothering to glance at it. "How's the case coming along?"
She kept her eyes on the book, flipping pages until she stopped on one with what she was looking for. “Fine.”
Her attempt to disengage didn't dissuade him in the slightest; he leaned back in his chair, the front feet rising off the floor a touch. "You must be taking a personal interest; most counsel send their secretaries or underlings to do this kind of work for them. Or maybe you feel a little rusty?"
She flipped another page and found something vaguely promising. “I want to spare her the details,” she said, which was more than she’d meant to. Jessica was good, but she was young, and new to the job. She didn’t want to traumatise her with her first big case. With an annoyed scoff she sat back in her chair, this time instead of avoiding his eyes she glared at them. “Can I help you,” she said, not a question, a dismissal.
Abel folded his hands in his lap, clearly not taking the hint. Her protectiveness spoke to the broken piece inside of her; the same piece that had been begging him to fuck her in the bathroom a few days before. He fixed her with a careful eye, clearly analyzing her, and wanting her to know it. "You think you're going to keep her from turning into you." Her lips parted slightly in shock, but it was her only reaction to his scathing words. His gaze met hers cleanly, without a hint of anything other than the bare words he was saying. "It's admirable, I suppose, if it weren't controlling in its own way. No matter what you do, you'll fuck her up somehow."
She pressed her lips back into a fine line, daggers in her eyes as she let her pen clatter to the table. She pushed herself up on her hands, slamming the book in front of her closed and bringing it with her as she turned and headed into the stacks, on the pretense of putting it away.
He swallowed back his laughter. She was far too easy to predict; the coiling, black feeling in the back of his mind tightened, and Abel rose to follow her. There still didn't seem to be another soul in their immediate proximity, and he was silent as death as he came up behind her, one hand on the small of her back.
"I think details can be the most fascinating part," he said, pushing her gently against one wall of books. His tall form leaned over her, impeding any escape. "How closely did you read that case file?"
She shied away from him when she felt his hand on her back, but he moved forward, crowding her against the books, her hands braced against the shelf in front of her. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed, though her body betrayed her, her blood pumping faster at the feeling of being restrained.
The hand slid up her back, over her nape and around her neck, not at all perturbed by her attitude. Even with her hands still on the shelves, he pulled her back enough to be flush to his body, his mouth by her ear. She flinched away, but there was nowhere to go, not with his hand wrapped around her neck, holding her against him.
"The things he did to those children." Abel clucked his tongue. "I read that he had a special room where he'd touch them." His other hand came around to her waist, sliding along her waistband. She shivered in his hold, his breath on her ear tickling and causing a reaction that filled her with revulsion. "It would start pretty easily. Almost innocently, you might say." His fingers probed deeper, caressing the skin just above her groin.
She took in a shaking breath, her eyes darting around, looking for someone else, anyone else she could draw the attention of, but the library was quite empty. The librarian was at the front desk, far to the front of the room and out of view, probably playing candy crush or something, not a clue about what was going on several feet away.
Confusing sensations warred inside her, her skin tingling at his touch, but her stomach churned with nausea at his words. “You’re a fucking monster,” she hissed quietly, shifting, twisting, attempting to slip out of his hold, but she was pinned.
He kept his tight, careful hold; his other hand reached that warm, wet place between her legs, pushing her thighs apart enough to draw his fingers across her labia. She whimpered, twisting her arm painfully, trying to pry his hand away from her throat, nails scratching his skin.
"He made them masterbate. First themselves, then him." He pushed his fingers inside, one knee sliding between her legs to part them further so his index and ring finger rubbed her clit. She grunted with effort as she fought him, but it was also half of an involuntary moan. His movements, and her reaction to them, making her feel sick. "Police did a blacklight scan of the carpet. They found stains everywhere."
“Stop…please” she begged, tears stinging her eyes, throat aching from emotion and from his tight hold on it.
"Your mouth says no, but everything else..." He trailed off, rubbing her harder, urging her body through its biological steps. She moaned, her knees weakening under her, but the way he was holding her she couldn't fall
"You know you want this, as much as I do." His breath next to her ear sent strands of brown whirling through the air, over her face and the stacks, only to fall once again into place. His other hand on her neck slid around her shoulder, under her armpit and over one breast. His touches were rough, grasping, lined with the maliciousness that was weighing down his mind. "Tell me how much you want me inside you."
She whimpered, a little louder than before, her free hand renewing it's effort to claw him off of her. “I…don't...” she insisted between gasps of pleasure she couldn't control. Her only hope now was that the librarian would hear her. Those self-defence classes didn't seem to help her here.
He bit back a growl, swallowing the sound. The hand on her breast slid down, under her shirt, hiking it higher until he was sliding probing fingers beneath her bra. The other hand withdrew, hovering just outside her slit, stopping just before she reached orgasm. She groaned in frustration, shifting against him to try and encourage more contact.
"You really want me to leave you here, like this? Unfinished?" Abel's voice was low in her ear, a whispering hiss that demanded something more of her. Another whimper, but this one of desperation.
’Help me,’ she begged.
’With what? You got yourself into this. I warned you.’
“Please,” she whispered aloud, though it was meant for that inner voice, not Abel. Gasps unresolved tension breaking the silence around them. The asshole was right, he’d gone too far, and now it was just torture.
He had what he wanted; both hands slipped down to her waistband, pulling it over her rump along with her underwear. She gasped at the sudden exposure, the unexpected cool air on her skin, immediately glancing around to make sure they were really alone. His weight and size kept her pressed against the stacks, his crotch pressing against her rear end for a moment. Fingers slid around to her front, teasing her once more.
"Please what?" She swallowed, trembling in his hands from fear and arousal.
“Please...I need you…” Her breath hitched as she felt his fingers again, sliding over her, the nerves verging on being oversensitive to his touch. Everything, her entire world, had suddenly been reduced to this, and her sudden insatiable need for him to take her right here against the bookshelf.
Abel had to stop himself from tipping his head back in victory, but a wide grin slashed its way across his face regardless. His hips rocked against her bare buttocks for a moment, demeaning her even further with a longer wait, his hard length clearly felt through the fabric. Then he undid his belt and his fly, pulling his cock free; her legs were bound by her pants, but she wasn't entirely inaccessible. He slid his member between her thighs, that close warmth already enough to make him shudder just a touch. He could feel the slick heat of her vulva. He rocked there for a moment, wetting himself with the remnants of his earlier work.
Then he shifted, pushing his tip up and toward her opening, sliding in fast and deep. He couldn't help the grunt that came with the exertion, the feeling of that tight squeeze that came with the first penetration sending a jolt through his nervous system.
She cried out when he filled her, a shockingly loud noise in the quiet library. She bit her lip, hard, to try to stifle any more sounds, but little whimpers and gasps still escaped. Her nails clawed at him again, but this time as a way to ground herself as the overwhelming sensations tried to pull her under. Tears slid down her cheeks with the effort to stay quiet, her other hand holding white-knuckled onto the shelf in front of her, her eyes screwed shut as the waves of pleasure started to build fast and strong, so that suddenly she was grateful for his tight hold on her.
Abel thrust forward, into her and into the stacks, making the shelves shudder with the movement. Thankfully, they were well bolted into their moorings and were not so easily toppled. Abel pressed his nose into Nish's hair, breathing into the back of her skull as he inhaled, thrusting again. His teeth bit into her hairline, hand on her waist to hold her steady digging new bruises into her hips.
She could taste blood in her mouth, her teeth clamping down harder on her lip to keep from making noise. Every movement had her groaning softly at the unbearable pleasure of it, the pain of his teeth on her skin and his fingers digging into her hips the only thing keeping her grounded. Her head fell back onto his shoulder, exposing her throat to him and opening her lips to gasp softly in his ear as she drew close, trembling in his grip as he pushed her closer and closer with each brutal thrust.
His mouth moved around her head, over her ear and to just the spot where he could both feel and hear the pounding of her pulse through her neck. His teeth ringed it like a necklace, biting into the skin just a hair's breadth from breaking it. That white flesh would stain black and purple and yellow, exposing whatever was within her that drove him to such acts. The hand not on her waist moved to her breast, clenching tight, sliding under her shirt again until her bra was resting atop her chest, nearly exposing her to the cold air just as much as her lower half.
She moaned as his teeth painted her skin with bruises. She was doing a worse and worse job of staying quiet, gasping and squirming in his hands as he drove into her again and again, until her orgasm finally tore through her. Her legs nearly gave way under her, buckling under her as the waves crashed over her, groaning unabashedly now, not even bothering to try and muffle the sound. The fear of getting caught blended with the pleasure flooding her limbs. “Ohh fuck,” she whispered, still trembling as the last of her pleasure began to dissipate.
Abel felt Nish's body rioting around him, which was enough to pull him over the edge as well. His teeth sank even further into her neck, finally drawing blood as he spent himself inside of her. For a moment, he clung to her form, holding her aloft; then he started to slowly peel himself away. He withdrew from her, tucking his member back into his pants, struggling back a step. This time, however, he did not 'dine and dash'; he leaned back against the opposite shelving, catching his breath.
"We really have to stop meeting like this," he finally said, making no lame attempt to smother his grin.
She wanted to glare at him, but she couldn’t, not while she was still coasting on the last gentle waves of the pleasure he had given her. She stepped away from him, still holding herself up by the shelf in front of her, swiftly pulling up her pants and fixing her shirt. She turned and leant her back against the extremely sturdy bookshelf behind her and put a hand to her neck, feeling the damage and spotting blood on her palm. “Jesus, Abel, I need to be able to work and not look like a slut,” she complained, her voice shaking slightly like the rest of her.
"Maybe you should wear a skirt, then," he replied, one hand trailing along his torso. "Make it a little easier on me."
She rolled her eyes a little and pressed her hand against the wound, wincing slightly and trying to stop the slight bleeding. He pushed away from the shelves he'd been leaning on, invading her space a little.
"Of course, we don't always have to do this out in public like this." He breathed in her scent again, the smell roiling the contented feeling that was pooling in his head, fighting the idea that she'd look better with a plastic bag over her head.
She looked up at him, and something in his eyes caused a stab of fear to clench her stomach, but just for a moment. “What, you going to fuck me in a cheap motel room?” she asked darkly, but even as she said it she knew what he was getting at.
‘If you let him in your apartment, he'll never leave,’ the voice warned.
‘He's not Stephen,’ she protested.
‘No,’ it said, ‘he's worse.’
“You trying to get me to invite you in?” she asked, pulling her hand away from her neck again to check if the bleeding had stopped. It wasn't really a question, because she already knew the answer. This had already gone way past the point where she should have put a stop to it, and now he was trying to get even more personal. The thought made her uncomfortable and caused another flutter of fear in her stomach. She didn’t want him fucking her in the same bed she and Rafe shared.
Abel shrugged. "Just a suggestion. If you're OK with bathrooms, and..." His gaze rolled around the room for a moment before coming back to her, "libraries, that works for me too. There's that whole...adrenaline rush." He stepped back, moving away from her. Hands nipped and tucked various areas of his suit, making sure he was presentable to the public. It was also a good way to keep his hands from wringing her throat.
"Your decision, though. You know I'm right down the hall."
She watched his hands as they fixed up his clothes, straightening out wrinkles and tucking in flaps, anything that would hint at what they’d just done. She knew what he was doing, trying to make this her decision, even though it was really just another way to control her. Passive-aggressive manipulation, which unfortunately, wasn’t new to her. But this also opened up a whole different can of worms for her - access. He was right there, literally across the hall from her. Available if she ever wanted him. It was like an alcoholic stashing a bottle of expensive liquor for a ‘special occasion’, but being constantly and maddeningly aware of its existence until they could no longer stop themselves from drinking it.
And now Abel had just very neatly replaced alcohol as her addiction of choice.
“I’ll think about it.” she lied. Who was she kidding, she already knew she would.
Abel replied with his grin, saying nothing more. With that, he finally turned away and started moving down the shelves, leaving Nish to figure out how she was going to hide the markings left by his abuse.
With a sigh she turned away, heading back to the table with her laptop and books and work spread out on it. She sat down heavily in the chair, numbly reaching over to take a sip of her now cold coffee, and then leant forward, elbows on the table, head in her hands.
’I’d stop at the drug store and buy concealer,’ the voice taunted.
“No shit,” she muttered to herself.