characters: Veronica Mars fbibarbie & Sean Dent otherdent setting: extremely remote beach house, backdated to Wed. night summary: Sean finds out the woman he loves is a liar and an FBI agent. rating: Very hard R, warnings for rape status: complete
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When Veronica came to, she was in a dark room and she was tied to a bed. Instantly she was worried. Sean must have drugged her or something. She shouldn’t have eaten, but then he would have been suspicious. It was bad enough she was basically stuck undercover with no back up, now thanks to Lilly her cover was blown. She had never expected to see Lilly again. Lilly was dead. But this Lilly never died. She wouldn’t think it was possible, but then there seemed to be multiple versions of people here, some from different time lines and maybe even parallel worlds.
She struggled to get her hands free, everything was still a little foggy and she was extremely concerned about what Sean might do. If he found out everything, she was in a lot of trouble. She hoped he was just suspicious, but this seemed a little excessive if that was the case. Veronica tried to keep herself calm, panicking right now was not going to help her.
Sean himself sat in a chair at the foot of the bed as he rummaged through her purse to see what he could find from there. It wasn’t just the suspicion of the having someone call her by a different name. His men back home had whispered the possibility that she wasn’t who she said she was and her constantly trying to keep him at arms length hadn’t helped him ignore them. But especially since arriving here in Atlantais, she’d seemed more nervous about something. Like she had something to hid. He was far from blind or stupid, he’d had to be in order to have never gotten even charged or publicly accused of the crimes he’d committed in Gotham.
“Struggling won’t help. I’m good with rope, love.” His tone is quiet as he continued his search through her purse. He hadn’t even bothered to look up to look at her as he spoke. He’d hate himself a little for ruining this if it turned out to be that his suspicions were for nothing, but he needed to know. He had survived this long by following his gut and his gut said she was hiding something, which just made him bound and determined to figure out what it was.
Oh this was bad, this was very bad. He was going through her purse. He would find her gun. Fortunately her badge was back at home right now but he had her keys and she would not put it past him sending someone to her apartment to look through her stuff. She barely had time to process Lilly being alive and now she was in a really bad situation. "Come on, this is not necessary." Maybe she could reason with him.
His brow rose at both her words and when he found the gun. The gun was pulled out as he checked it over with a proficiency that said he really did know what he was doing with the weapon, had handled them before. “Not necessary? My dear, which part? The part where you’re apparently lying to me or the part where you’re keeping yourself armed around me?” He finally looked up and over at her, eyes darker with anger. “Who are you?”
Veronica really was trying to stay calm about all this but it was clear to her she was not in control at the moment. Sean was. And he was pissed off. "You can never be too careful. This place is dangerous." If he found her wallet he would see old pictures of Lilly and her. And maybe even one of her and Logan from years ago. She hadn't talked to him in so long.
He gave a low, thoughtful sound as his fingers traced along the barrel of the gun though his eyes never left hers. “There’s carrying a gun and then there’s carrying a force issued gun. I’m not stupid by any means, though apparently I’ve gone soft if I couldn’t see or listen to what was right in front of me.” He set the gun in his lap so he could continue to go through her purse a little more, looking over the ID and pictures in the wallet. He’d had no doubt that she and the girl that had called her Veronica were friends, and the pictures made that clear. The one of her and a blond boy raised his brow a little higher, but he didn’t think too much of it either because what relationships in the past were just that, past. He wasn’t a jealous man by nature, until she’d come alone he hadn’t been a monogamous man either. “You know I actually liked you,” he murmured softly, though the anger from his eyes was spreading through his voice. He’d done everything he could to be a good man for the woman he’d thought he’d been dating, including showering her with gifts to show his affection. The fact that it was apparently a waste and a joke, just made his blood boil a bit more.
Veronica was in way over her head right now. She had no back up, and no one who was going to kick the door in and save her. He was probably going to kill her and there was very little she could do about it. She was trying not to shake right now, and she wasn't sure what to even say. His mind was made up, she could tell. Her gun wasn’t exactly a normal handgun. She had nothing to say for herself now, but she was really struggling with the ropes.
He watched her struggle for a few minutes before he dropped her purse to the floor and stood as his hand slid to hold the gun. He moved slowly to settle next to her, “Struggling won’t get you anything but raw wrists.” He trailed the barrel of the gun along her jaw gently, eyes dark. “Who are you? You’re name clearly isn’t Nikki because that came up clean, no need for a gun for her record.” Because yes, he’d had her background run on the identity she’d come to him under, he wouldn’t have opened up as much as he did if he’d known or suspected. Her team was good, he’d give them that.
She was not telling him anything. She was dead no matter what she said. She had no more lies to tell. Usually this would be the point where she would call her back up in, but she had none. She was all alone. Nothing that she could possibly say to him would help her right now. She remained silent, though her shaking was more than obvious now.
He smiled down at her and it wasn’t a completely nice smile, there was anger but she’d known him long enough that if she wanted to see it she’d be able to catch the betrayal and hurt under all that anger. He really had wanted to ignore the soft whispers of his men, hadn’t wanted this to be true. But her not answering was sealing that it was, that and the gun. “I’m not going to kill you, my dear. Far from it.” The barrel of the gun trailed down along her throat as he watched her. “We have lots of other activities in store for our time together.”
She felt sick now. This was worse than she imagined. Why wasn't he going to kill her? That made the most sense, didn't it? Then again, she was sure he could think of all sorts of other things if he wanted her to talk. "I'm not telling you anything." She wanted to make that very clear to him.
He wasn’t normally the man to shy away from killing. Though observation of the network had said even if he did kill her, she’d just come back within a day or so. And if she came back, she might not come back to her body but elsewhere and he wouldn’t risk losing her. That and this was a lot more personal than just the killings he’d done in Gotham. She’d wormed into his heart and at the very least that betrayal needed compensation. He’d truly cared for her. “Well, if you’re not going to talk, maybe we can put that pretty mouth to something else.” He moved and set the gun on the little table next to the bed before his fingers moved to start tugging her shirt off. “What do you say, love?”
He was bluffing. He had to be bluffing, but he seemed very serious to her and she was afraid. Pulling at the ropes didn't seem to help her at all. She was in big trouble and there was nothing she could do. And his words chilled her to the bone. She was shaking .
The pad of his thumb slid gently along the skin of her stomach as he exposed it, his head tilted to just watch her. “Would you like to reconsider what use your mouth is going to be?” He was slow as he tugged her shirt off, pulling just enough to expose her stomach for now. As well, his fingers were even slower in exploring all the soft skin he had revealed, the touch gentle considering the anger that still resided in his eyes. “Six months of me being the best to you, of me falling for you, and you honestly felt nothing. It was just a job, hmm?”
"I'm not telling you anything." She said again, slower this time. Maybe he would get it. Of course if she didn't tell him, he'd probably send someone to her apartment to get the information. She was very worried about what he might do but keeping her attitude in check didn't cross her mind. It probably should have, Irish men were known for their tempers.
They really were known for their tempers indeed, especially when it wasn’t just idle things they were angry about but something that touched a nerve, that was much more personal. His look darkened a little for her answer and he shifted to pull the knife out of his pocket and flick it open. “Suit yourself, love. I’ll just have my fun then.”
Okay, maybe he wasn't bluffing right now. Still, what could she tell him that would save her? She couldn't think of anything. It was a sad story, she was a good agent that had basically been abandoned by her task force. They were not brought here with her. What was she supposed to have done? For an expert liar, she couldn't think of a way to save her skin right now. "You don't need to do this." she told him seriously. She was still working on getting her hands free, but Sean was no amateur in tying someone up, was he? He had done this before, probably many times. Her wrists were raw from fighting so much.
He shifted so that he could cover her hands with one of his to still her fighting in the rope. He’d done it so many times he couldn’t keep count anymore, and he’d practiced ten times more than that. He didn’t like for his captives to have an inch of real wiggle room to get free. “I told you to stop that, you won’t get free that way.” The comment was slightly dark though the root of it was that care he’d come to have for her, for her to not injure herself on the ropes. It was almost funny considering what he wanted to do to her, that he’d care if her wrists were raw. “And what would you tell me have need to do?” Curiosity flavored his voice.
Veronica didn't know how to answer that. She wanted to kick him, if he got closer, she might. She still wouldn't be able to get free though, so what was the use? Maybe she could distract him somehow, but she wasn't sure of that either. She was so put together most of the time, but now she was out of her element and at his mercy. "You could let me go and just forget all this." It was wishful thinking, but she had to try. She was trying not to display how much his actions were getting to her. She didn't want him to figure out that something similar to this had happened before.
He chuckled, dark and not at all amused. “Forget that the women I was starting to love has lied to me not only about actually liking me but that she was some little mole sent to bring me down. How do I forget something like that?” His wrist flicked the knife so he could use it one handed to cut her shirt down the middle and expose her, being oddly careful to not actually catch her skin. Considering he wasn’t expecting her to get away, she really didn’t need it anyway. “Faithful to you, caring to you, and it was all just a game to you.”
It wasn't a game. It was her job. She had accepted the assignment, it was never supposed to last as long as it did. She had lied to him, but that was part of the job. Lies were necessary with what she did. But there were no words that would comfort him now and no words that would save her from what he wanted to do. Sometimes it was best not to say anything at all.
The biggest problem was it had lasted this long and he had actually started to care about her. The only thing that might come close to saving her would be him knowing that maybe the feelings hadn’t been one sided, that somewhere maybe he hadn’t been just a job and that’s why she hadn’t left and let the assignment be longer. But even then it’d take a lot of convincing on her part to make him by it and even then he wasn’t completely sure what he’d do.
Once her shirt was cut, he pushed the material aside, the flat side of the knife sliding cool against her skin as he did. “Six months...” He shook his head, clearing away the slightly soft edge to his eyes. She’d gotten to him more than he’d honestly really thought she would have. “How would you feel, love, if the person you were trying to create a life with turned around and ended up being someone you didn’t know. Someone that was trying to hurt you?” He was curious if she’d thought at all about how he might have felt in this situation. If she had ever really cared about him in the slightest.
She hadn't thought about any of that. Her director had painted him as this extremely cruel man, who was suspected to have killed a lot of people. She was just supposed to get close to him. "It wasn't supposed to go on this long." It probably wouldn't make him feel better, but it was the truth. The sad part was, in a way she could see his point of view. She was just following orders but that wouldn't comfort him either.
In the six months she’d spent getting close to him, at least to her, he hadn’t shown that cruel man. He had been a gentleman and kind, making sure she had the best he could give her of everything. “Wasn’t supposed to go on this long...” His voice darkened, betrayal flavoring the words clearly now side by side with his anger. The casual uncaring she held wasn’t helping at all. His slide the knife back across her skin. “And how long was Nikki supposed to last? How close was she supposed to get to me before you ripped my heart out?”
What did he want her to say? What could she say? Anything she said would upset him even more. She really did not know what to do. She was stuck, and she was helpless. She hated feeling this way. She was portraying a mask of calm but on the inside she was freaking out. She did not want any of this to happen, she was terrified but nothing she said to him would save her skin. She wasn't Nikki, she never had been. It was just a persona, one she had used to gain his trust. She almost couldn't blame him for being so upset, but this was extreme.
The knife trailed across her skin a little more and sliced through her bra to leave her topless once the material was pushed aside. Instead of a hand though, he slid the knife across the top of her breast, watching her reaction. “So many things I could do with you. So many different ways to pull interesting sounds out of you. Which ones do I start with first, my dear? Do you want to scream first or moan first?” His dark eyes said he was quite serious, those were now her two choices. And it wasn’t an either or, it was a which one first.
This was a disaster. She did not want any of this to happen. He said he wasn't going to kill her. That didn't mean he wouldn't hurt her. He wanted to hurt her, and she knew where he was going with this, trying to make her choose. She simply remained silent. Maybe he would get distracted or something. He didn't know she didn't have back up, that she was on her own. Maybe she could bluff him.
"My team is going to look for me." She was lying, but maybe it would bring him to his senses and he would let her go. On the other hand, she might have pissed him off more. It could be so hard to tell sometimes.
“You’re team,” he murmured as the knife dipped so the tip of the blade scrapped across her nipple. There was no pressure, so so long as she didn’t move to encourage the blade, all it’d do is be cool metal over sensitive flesh. He wasn’t looking to cut her, especially not there. “Sweets, unless your team got moved here, there is no team. And since I haven’t seen much past all of the look alike crew posting about this kidnapping or that death or that bloody puppy, I highly doubt you have an actual team.” A couple people she’d made allies with, maybe, but not a full team.
The phone in his pocket vibrated and he flicked the knife away from her skin for the moment, blade closed. “That would be my friend searching your apartment for knowledge of who you really are. Lets see what they have to say, hmm?” He shifted and pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open to the messages section, reading over the answer quietly for the moment.
Okay, so he didn't believe her. She knew it was a long shot, anyway. She was freezing now. Did he have the AC blasting or something? She was careful not to move or even breathe much with the blade so close to her flesh. That text he was reading would confirm his suspicions, but also tell him she was FBI, and her real name. She didn't imagine he was going to react well to any of it.
He might have had it blasting a little, keeping it a fairly cold temperature but not too cold that she’d go blue or anything. Just enough to keep her uncomfortable. His look darkened as he read over the information and the knife flicked open like he was going to use it on her for a moment. His phone is put aside on the table before he turned to her and the knife snapped shut. “FBI? How the hell did FBI...” His mouth shut and he moved to straddle her waist as one hand rested once again on her bound, raw wrists and pinned them roughly and more tightly down against the bed. “I really don’t like traitors among my people, and I especially don’t like ones that play with my heart, little Veronica Mars.”
So now he knew. Great. She tried to kick him when he straddled her, but she doubted it would do much damage. She was small and way to overpower, especially when she was restrained. "Not a traitor if I was never on your side." that would not help her one bit but she couldn't help saying it.
The kick didn’t really even phase him as he looked down at her, settled on his knees so he wasn’t actually sitting on her. Her words only darkened the anger across his face. “You made me fall in love with you, whether you were on my side or not, that’s enough.” His head dipped down so he was almost kissing her. “I was going to propose to you in a couple weeks. I thought you actually loved me back. Apparently the FBI has good intuitions, sending such a good actress with a frozen heart.”
"You don't know anything about me." She shot back, defiantly. Not many did. Veronica was not the kind of girl that let many get close to her. He thought she was a heartless bitch, but he had no idea what had led to her decision to become an FBI agent. He didn't know about Lilly's murder, or about Veronica's father's murder and she wasn't about to tell him anything.
No, he didn’t have any ounce of a clue because she’d never shared anything real with him. And that hurt a lot too. He’d shared with her just how hurt he’d been over his brother’s death, and while yes that had lead to slightly angry talk of Batman, he’d shared it with her. The real him, the real pain. But he’d been a job so there’d been no sharing back on her side. He gave a low sound, “Don’t know anything about you...” His breath slid along her cheek and across to her throat before he kissed along her neck and up to the small sweet spot he’d found behind her ear. Every move was soft, trying to coax that soft sound he had liked so well when he hadn’t known who she really was. Even his hands let up on her wrists and moved to just support himself near her shoulder.
Nikki was gone now, and what he was doing was not going to bring her back. She was Veronica Mars and she was afraid. She was doing her best not to show him this. She didn't want him to know, and she especially didn't want him to know that this was not the first time she had been in this situation. He didn't know her, but he was about to know her biblically. He was about to do something he could never take back and she felt sick to her stomach. She didn't know if she could reason with him now.
He already knew that Nikki was gone forever, even if he didn’t go through with everything. Because technically, Nikki had never existed except in databases to begin with. As for knowing her biblically, he’d been wanting to know her that way for six months. It was a shame that this was the way he’d get to know her, this was the circumstance, but he wasn’t going to sweat it either. He wasn’t a good man, even if he’d tried to be for Nikki. Finding this out, finding out that she really didn’t like him at all, had broken him a little and pushed him more towards the man she’d been warned about.
His nose nuzzled under her ear, breath hot against her skin. “You will moan for me, sweet and pleasured. Even if you hate it before and after, little Veronica.” His mouth trailed down along her throat, soft kisses left in his mouth’s wake. He was taking the care he would have had she let him have her before, soft, gentle, and loving. If she weren’t tied to the bed and his eyes weren’t still dark with anger, you’d almost never know he was so cruel of a man.
She wanted to vomit. He wasn't hurting her, not like he could have and likely would later. He was trying to make her relax and for her body to want this. It was sick and part of her wanted to scream 'not again'. One rape had been more than enough for her and that was what this was, even as gentle as he was being about it. He was showing her who was in control and that he could do whatever he wanted to her. She was helpless, but even worse than all that he wanted her body to betray her. This was true evil in front of her right now.
"Don't do this..." She pleaded. She could feel tears starting to well up, but she held them back.
The barest hint of teeth played along her collarbone when he got there, soft and teasing. He shifted a little, his body settling a little lower than her waist and finally resting carefully atop her so she was pinned more fully. “You played with my heart. It’s only fair I get to play with something and I’m not the kind of man to literally play with a heart. Too messy.” His words were dark, still that angry even as his mouth trailed delicately along the top of her breast. His hand slid up to cup and knead her breast gently, just feeling the skin and her body. There wasn’t really anything in the world that would stop him now that he’d made up his mind.
"Get over it." Veronica said. It was true that her words were harsh. She needed them to be. She needed to distract him from this, until she could figure out how to stop him. She knew it wouldn't be pretty, but she had to do something. "Stop crying already."
He gave a low sound at her words, dark, angry, and dangerous. He didn’t like being told to do anything. “I’m not crying, my little agent. Far from it.” His mouth dipped, teeth nipping the top of her breast a little roughly. “I’m taking what I want instead.”
"You're whining and I'm sick of hearing it." She was taking a risk right now, but she had to do something. She winced when he nipped at her skin. She was trying to think of how else to distract him.
His eyes darkened a little more. “By all means, I’ll just put my own mouth to better use then, shall I?” His tongue soothed over that nip gently before he captured her nipple and teased it expertly. He wanted her fighting the urge to moan, not ordering him about. His other hand slid down her stomach gently to start removing her pants.
He was not deterring from this, it seemed like whatever she said did not make it stop. She was shaking pretty badly now, unable to hide it anymore. "You're going to burn in hell for this." She told him. She was so tense and not making this easy on herself but she wanted to delay it as much as she could and she was running out of ideas. Kicking him wasn't an option anymore, he had her far too pinned for that. Flashbacks to waking up searching for her underwear were in her mind now. She didn't want him to see her cry so she had to keep giving him attitude.
His eyes rolled up to her face, brow arched a little. “Sweets, you’re FBI, you know what I’ve done already.” As he if was safe from Hell even if he didn’t take her. His head rose from her body and his eyes trailed along her for the shaking and how tense she was. “And you fighting it will just make it worse.” His body shifted so he could slide down to remove the rest of her clothes, pointing a finger before he really let her legs up. “And if you try to kick me, I’ll just tie your legs down to the bottom of the bed and then your ankles will be as raw as your wrists.”
She felt so sick right now. She didn't know what she could do to make him stop. There didn't seem to be anything. "I'm not just going to let you do this." she had not had control before, she really felt like she needed to do something now. She was so terrified, but she was doing a pretty good job of not showing that. Kicking was not an option, she didn't want to be even more helpless.
There was honestly nothing anymore that would make him stop. He wanted what he wanted and not a damn thing could be done about it. Come screaming or moaning, he was going to take her. “You don’t really have a choice in the if it will happen and you aren’t in a position to stop me.” His hands trailed up along her legs slowly, spreading them as his touch went higher with muscle if he had to. “Sooner or later you’ll be a boneless puddle of pleasure, your body will make sure of that.”
She felt like she would be sick at any moment. He was relentless. She wasn't going to relax. She didn't want this. She hadn't been physical with anyone in a long time. Since before Keith died. She had intimacy issues before this, and this was not helping. "You can't take this back, you know. I might have lied to you about who I was but this... There is no excuse." she shook her head. "I lie to a lot of people, nothing personal."
“It was very personal to me.” His look was dark as his hands tightened on her inner thighs when they got there. Not too much, but enough to let her feel his strength as he held her open. “And I know well what I can and take back, Veronica. No amount of talking is going to stop me.” He was a cold hearted criminal at his root, he’d killed in cold blood, this wasn’t all that far a step away from taking a life. His head dipped to work her, slow and teasing. He wasn’t looking for this to be over all that fast and he really did want her body giving itself to him even if her brain and mouth wouldn’t shut up.
She kept trying to tell herself not to cry. She knew she should have stayed home tonight, now she was going to have to relive one of the most horrible things that happened to her. It had been eight years ago and sometimes she still thought about it. And if he did this, there was no way he was just letting her go. He had to kill her or something. She was relaxing, she didn't want to but what he was doing was forcing her too. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that it was over soon.
There was no way he was letting her go and there was no way he’d kill her or let her kill herself. She would be his in every way, kept locked away or if she finally broke enough to be trusted out without running from him. He wanted her his and he’d find any way to make that possible. This was just the start for him. Once her body started to relax he picked up the pace, hands just continuing to hold her legs apart as his tongue delved deeper into her.
She hated this. She hated him. How could he do this? Being pissed was one thing but what he was doing was so wrong. Why couldn't he have just killed her and gotten it over with? This was so much worse to her. She couldn't stop her body from reacting to what he was doing. It would have been better if she was unconscious, for her anyway.
He’d lost his morality quite a while before he’d met her, though he’d still retained some of it before his brother had died. Now, though, it was gone. And it allowed him to do this, to claim her and keep her without question, thought, or care as to what might be right or wrong. Honestly, part of him thought the men that used drugs and took women when unconscious were cowards. If you’re going to take something you shouldn’t, be a man about it and accept the responsibility and repercussions of the actions. No hiding. But that was just his opinion. He continued to work her, faster. He wanted to hear her moan, wanted to feel her pleasure before he took her himself.
She kept her eyes shut so tight that it hurt. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing her do what he wanted. She bit down so hard on her lower lip that it had started to bleed. She didn't care. Anything she could do to keep from crying out. She doubted he would even notice, he seemed a lot more focused on...something else.
He was a lot more focused on her body and how her body was reacting, though a lazy glance up her body as he worked her gave him the reason there was such quiet. He gave a low sound against her before working fingers into her, carefully to not hurt but instead keep the pleasure going as he moved up her body so his mouth was near hers. “I want to hear you moan, Veronica. I’ve got all day to keep you going, your body will only take so much before you really are just a bundle of nerves that jumps at even the smallest touch.”
She hated this so much. She knew he was right. But she was going to hold off for as long as she could. It was the only control she had right now. She wanted to keep it as long as she possibly could. It wouldn't be much longer though and they both knew that. In addition to biting on her lip, her fingernails were now digging deep into her palms.
His free hand tipped her chin, hoping to startle her enough to get her to stop biting her lip as his fingers worked her faster, more demanding of her pleasure. “Stop fighting it, love. You could feel so good if you just stopped fighting yourself.” His words were dark and soft, no anger in them as he tried to coax her into letting herself have the pleasure he was giving. He was really serious about keeping her going for as long as he needed to to have her let go and moan or scream in pleasure.
How could she stop fighting? She didn't want this and she knew she couldn't stop him. And what he was doing felt good. She didn't want it to feel good. She was giving in. And she hated herself for it. He had accomplished that much. She hated herself as much as he probably hated her right now.
He’d make her feel any time he wanted, he was good at what he did, at playing a woman’s body and his mouth and fingers proved that quite well right this moment. He continued to murmur soft coaxing words against her throat as he kissed along it and continued to work her. Part of him was tempted to see just how long he could keep her going once she gave in completely. How much pleasure could he make her feel before that too turned to pain because it was just too much. And now he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to fully take her or do that. Choices, choices.
Her hands were bleeding a bit from the digging but she was definitely starting to relax. She just wanted all of this to be over. But she wasn't that naive. She knew he was not going to let her go. He might kill her, that would be the safest choice but he seemed serious when he said he wasn't going to kill her. She hated how her body was betraying her mind. She could barely think right now. He knew what he was doing, all the right moves to make.
He’d take care of the cuts on her hands later, at least cleaning them so they wouldn’t get infected. No, he’d never go in a million hears now. He didn’t want her dead, not in the slightest. And where she hated how her body was betraying her, he loved it. Loved that her body was winning, that the pleasure he was giving her was winning. “Come on, love,” he murmured softly with an equally soft kiss to her throat as his fingers tried to get just a little deeper.
She felt like her life was over. And the life that she knew was over, so she was not wrong. She felt hopeless and that was worse than feeling helpless. She had given in to him and it sickened her. It more than sickened her. If he was not going to kill her, that meant she had more of this to look forward to. This was so messed up. All her hope was gone.
As messed up as it was, Sean wasn’t letting her go any time soon. Neither was he stopping anytime soon either. Now that she’d finally given into him and her body, she had a long night ahead of her. He had quite a few plans for her over the course of her very long stay and he was looking forward to each and every one of them.