Rebecca giggled as she swayed against Neal; she felt like she was floating despite not being drunk, the excitement and the adrenaline of the past few days still flooding her system. And okay, she also swayed because she was wearing heels and it was not something she did often.
Heels were not sensible, and so the smart, sensible, boring Rebecca Lowe, already too tall at five foot nine, did not wear them. But ever since she’d met Neal Caffrey and her world had upended she felt like someone new, someone glamorous.
The old Rebecca would not have worn heels, but the old Rebecca would not have been at the arm of a world-class art thief, being led up the stairs to a loft in an amazing, gorgeous building she’d gawked at for years after being wined and dined in a fancy restaurant in the aftermath of a heist and a conspiracy involving the Mosconi manuscript; her lifelong passion!
So okay maybe she was a little drunk. She smothered a giggle and leaned deeper into Neal as he deftly pulled out his keys and opened the door for her. She was glad to be back, it had gotten surprisingly nippy even with the jacket he’d gallantly wrapped around her shoulders.
It wasn't dark, not with the persistent glow of Manhattan outside the large windows, but she didn’t see him before she felt Neal stiffen against he
“Hello, Neal.” The unfamiliar voice hit her unexpectedly hard; Rebecca gasped, half in surprise, half in excitement. There was something about that accented velvety rasp that went straight down her spine and left heat in its wake, heat that left her flushed and her cheeks stained red.
Neal’s arm tightened around her shoulders and she shrank into him; something had come over Neal when the voice spoke, a change from the charming man to something else, something dangerous.
“What are you doing here?” Neal’s voice was so flat she barely recognized it.
She finally saw the man who had spoken detach himself from the shadows, striding out to stand before the terrace doors. “What, can’t I stop by to see you and your… friend?” he tilted his head, his eyes sliding boldly over Rebecca’s body and settling on her flushed face.
Rebecca swallowed and leaned closer to Neal under the man’s scrutiny, but not without returning it with her own; his dark eyes matched his voice with their smooth intensity, and it barely registered that he was not only older but also shorter than her. He wore no tie, his suit was not quite as fine as Neal’s, and he carried himself completely differently, more loosely, but there was just that something about him…
“Cat got your tongue, Neal?” the man took another step closer. “You should introduce your friend.”
Rebecca glanced at Neal; his expression had darkened and he moved to stand in front of her. He spoke without taking his eyes off the other man. “Rebecca, you need to go, now!”
“No, Neal, I think she should stay here with us.” The words were casual, but with an edge of danger. . Rebecca shivered, considering for a moment turning on her heel and getting out just like Neal had told her, to never look back -
But she’d told him she wanted in. She wanted him; she wanted this - danger and all.
“Look, Hagen,” Neal paused and she gasped.
“You’re Hagen?” She blurted out before she could think better of it. But when Neal had told her that he was in danger because of a dangerous, murderous criminal she had pictured someone... brutal, not... this. Not the kind of a man who was now smiling at her indulgently, flashing white teeth.
“I see you’ve been telling tales, Caffrey. She knows who I am but I see you have still failed to introduce us.” Hagen moved closer still, and before Rebecca knew what was happening he was standing right in front of her.
Even though she was taller than him in her heels, she felt small when his hand came up to take her chin gently, fingers a caress against her flushed cheek, in counterpoint to Neal’s tightening grip of her.
“Rebecca, was it?”
She licked her lips. “Yes. Rebecca Lowe. I am… I was - “
“Ah yes, the beautiful art historian Neal got fired from the Greshaw gallery.”
She felt herself blush and she looked away as the hand left her cheek, and Hagen’s attention left her for Neal. “Really, Neal, you should be ashamed of yourself.”
“I don’t know what kind of a game you’re playing now but leave her out of it,” Neal said with fervor.
Hagen raised an eyebrow. “Oh, Neal, haven’t you realized it yet? If she’s with you, then she’s with me.”
With me. Oh. Oh.
Rebecca knew her cheeks had to be scarlet to match her hair; she knew the thought that had come into her head was absolutely out of place, that was not what Hagen had meant. Neal had told her about him, about what he was, who he was, how he was the one behind the manuscript and the window and -
“And you’re the one who got me fired.” Again, Rebecca found herself blurting something out before thinking. “If you hadn’t…”
“If I hadn’t what?” Hagen’s eyes met hers again and she shivered from head to toe; she took a step back, away from him, away from Neal to stand on her own. She raised her chin defiantly.
“If you hadn’t pulled Neal into your - your schemes.”
Hagen laughed. “Touché, my dear. Come now, let’s sit down. Get comfortable. ” He gestured towards the sitting area, casually stepping away.
Rebecca watched him sit down in one of the chairs, sprawling casually as he waved a hand towards the couch in an imperious manner. It was clear that he expected that she and Neal obey and with a frown, she looked at her boyfriend. “Neal?” she asked softly, her tongue flicking out to wet her dry lips.
“I’m sorry, Rebecca,” Neal replied, his voice grave. “I won’t let him - You’ll be safe.”
Don’t let him what? Rebecca didn’t press, just looked back at Hagen who was tapping his foot impatiently, and took Neal’s hand. His fingers wrapped around hers reassuringly as he led her to the sofa and they sat down, Rebecca crossing her ankles demurely.
“Be a dear, Neal, and get us something to drink will you? I believe you have some half-decent Malbec in there.” Hagen gestured indolently towards the wine rack and Rebecca could feel Neal bristling next to her; she was surprised when he stood without a word, his shoulders stiff as he moved across the room to do as Hagen had bid, shrugging Neal’s jacket off her shoulders and folding it as she sat.
Neal tried to get his breathing under control as he strode to the wine rack, eyes darting around the room trying to decipher how long Hagen had spent in there already if he could adequately pick from his wine collection. He had foolishly thought that after he’d informed June of Hagen’s true nature the man wouldn’t venture here but he had been so very wrong. And now Rebecca was caught in between - he had no doubt that if she hadn’t been with him, Hagen would have just made another demand, done something to establish his smug superiority but with Rebecca…
With her, Neal was vulnerable.
He moved on automaton as he pulled out the glasses and poured the wine, his attention on Hagen and Rebecca. From the corner of his eye he could see she was leaning forward, just a little, and silently he cursed having told her anything. Judging by Rebecca’s reaction when he’d told her that he was not an FBI agent but rather a CI, a thief… he hadn’t considered the possibility but Rebecca seemed almost enraptured by Hagen, whose silent smirk gave nothing away.
Neal raked his eyes over her as he headed back to them, glasses in hand. She was flushed, her lips parted and her shoulders pulled back; she couldn’t take her eyes away from Hagen, like a deer in the headlights…
He shook his head. She was showing a lot of physiological signs that matched certain kinds of interest but also matched fear; she knew who Hagen was, what he was capable of. That the snake had made its way into his home and was now holding them in its thrall. For a moment he wondered darkly if it was just the memory of his own first reaction to Hagen that he was trying to project on to Rebecca. When he wanted to, the man could ooze charm and that first meeting - the refusal to shake his hand still stung, especially with the knowledge that the man was a murderous thieving bastard.
Hagen accepted his glass gracefully. “I trust you would not ruin such a great vintage with arsenic, Neal,” he said jovially and Neal bristled.
“Polonium actually only the best for you.” he bit out as he handed a glass to Rebecca and sat down again, consciously making himself appear at ease as he lay a hand on top of hers, squeezing her fingers reassuringly. Her hand curled into his and she looked at him, a small, hesitant smile on her lips.
“Now, Neal, don’t be scaring the girl... you wouldn’t poison me, would you? You don’t have it in you. You’re not a violent man, Neal.”
Neal bit his tongue from saying he’d make an exception for Hagen and instead, smiled. “You know me,” he said with forced cheer, taking a sip from his glass. The bottle had shown no signs of tampering so he didn’t think Hagen would have risked trying to poison them like this. No sense in letting the wine go to waste but he’d have to keep his head.
“So I do,” Hagen drawled as he tilted his head, shifting his gaze from Neal to Rebecca. Rebecca’s hand tightened its grip of Neal’s and he could feel her stiffen.
“However,” Hagen continued, “I don’t know the lovely Rebecca at all; despite how crucial she has been to our... venture. Tell me, sweetheart, how does a lovely like you become an expert on a boring old freemason like Mosconi?”
Neal watched as Rebecca took a quick swig from her glass, leaning over to set it on the table. Giving Hagen an eyeful, he noted, but Rebecca’s general lack of wiles was one of the reasons he liked her so much; she lacked calculation and artifice and he was certain it had not been on purpose as she tucked a stray lock behind her ear. “Well I first discovered him when I was in undergrad…”
Somehow the way Rebecca launched into unabashedly talking about her passion seemed to ease the tension; Neal took another sip from his glass and leaned back into the couch, his eyes darting at Rebecca at her most animated; her hand had left his and she was articulating, describing one thing or another while Hagen watched her hungrily, twirling his glass in his fingers.
He could almost pretend this was nothing more than a casual gathering of friends; all they needed was a dog on the floor… Neal stiffened at the thought, shaking his head minutely to clear his head. There was a certain ironic resemblance to times he’d spent at the Burke residence, with Peter and El, but he knew that was something that had come to an end.
This could be something of a beginning, a small voice whispered in his head.
No. It would not be.
He looked at Hagen; their eyes locked.
He loved watching Caffrey bristle. Almost as much as he liked watching the lovely Ms. Lowe gesturing passionately over the details of Mosconi’s early career, her eyes alight behind those librarian glasses and a color to her cheeks.
She was quite lovely, Caffrey knew how to pick them - beautiful and smart, and with enough spark under the naive exterior to keep things interesting. She was aware of his role in the manuscript theft, was aware of Caffrey’s little predicament based on how comfortable they were in each others’ space, but she was no brazen thief or grifter; nothing like Neal Caffrey’s usual flames.
Hagen nodded encouragingly as she spoke, offering a few murmurs here and there but it was clear that once she got started on a subject she was passionate enough she was glad to talk to an appreciative audience, once she got past her shyness that is.
Maybe it was for the best, after all, that she’d been accompanying Caffrey.
When she paused to take a deep drink from her glass, he saw his moment to interject, to steer the conversation to a more... interesting direction.
“So Rebecca, tell me - how does a respectable art scholar like yourself end up with a scoundrel like Neal? Do we have a thing for the bad boys, hmm?”
He saw her cheeks flush, the shiver that went through her at his words. oh yes, little Ms. Lowe definitely had a thing for the bad boys - and the way Caffrey stiffened, his eyes seeking out Hagen’s and locking, the blue cold and fierce... oh yes.
“She doesn’t.” The fact that it was Caffrey who spoke surprised him, but not that much.
It all clicks, then - of course, Caffrey must’ve been playing his little lapdog role, the same one that had cost him several years in prison. Or had it been more than that?
“Really now?” Hagen raised an eyebrow, looking at Rebecca. That blush was so fetching and a plan began to form. He wouldn’t lie to himself; he was going to enjoy this.
“Yes. Now excuse me,” She said quickly, averting her eyes as she stood. He watched her head off towards the bathroom, with more than a bit of sway to her hips.
Hagen turned back to Neal and the moment the door closed behind Rebecca, he smiled “Hate to see her leave but love to watch her go.”
There was a fire sparking up in Caffrey, the blue eyes bright with anger. He was so spirited like this, chafing against his invisible restraints. The weight of the video footage even greater than the weight of the anklet that barely creased his perfectly tailored trousers. Caffrey had landed on his feet, and Hagen had paid the cost.
“Don’t what? You brought her into this Caffrey.” Hagen smiled, showing teeth. “You’re mine, boy, and as long as you are, so is your little whore.”
The cold water from the tap did very little to calm her flush. Rebecca gripped the edges of the sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror as if it could give her all the answers in the universe. Except that was not happening and she had to calm down before she made a complete fool out of herself!
There was something about Hagen, about this whole situation that flustered her completely; his accented... damn it, his sexy as hell voice was doing things to her, and his eyes… she should’ve felt completely appalled by herself, the old Rebecca would have, after all she was with Neal.
Neal who was sitting right there beside her, like he had not a care in the world that she was chatting to the man he’d told her was dangerous and up to no good. Like he hadn’t tried to get her to leave the moment he saw Hagen.
Rebecca closed her eyes for a moment and drew a deep breath. She started to wonder just how much of what Neal had said about Hagen was true - if this was just another layer. But she knew Neal would not put her in danger. This much she did know. If she was in any danger he would’ve bodily showed her out of that door before she knew what was going on, rather than let this little soiree happen.
She opened her eyes, took another deep breath and looked herself in the eye. “You can do this,” she whispered and turned off the tap.
Her heels clicked against the wooden floor when she made her way back to the two men, just a tiny bit unsteadily. They were both watching her, Hagen’s eyes openly bold as they raked over her. Maybe it was that or the wine or those blasted heels -
Rebecca stumbled, a small shriek passing her lips as she fell, straight into Curtis Hagen’s lap.
For a moment she thought she was going to tumble straight onto the floor but then there were -large, warm- hands on her, pulling her upright, against his body and settling her into a sideways sprawl, her legs dangling over the arm of the chair in a way that made her surprisingly self-conscious. She had an arm around his neck, another on his chest and um wow how had that happened?
“Careful, darling,” he purred, the hand on her hip squeezing lightly.
“Oh.” Rebecca blinked, and the lightheadedness she felt had nothing to do with her near-fall. Her eyes darted towards Neal who was staring intently, his face betraying nothing - but his eyes, oh, his eyes - they were so bright and intent, staring at where Hagen’s hand was on her hip but there were no words, no nothing. Just that intense look.
She was about to speak, her lips parting when one of Hagen’s hands moved to her face and she stilled, unwilling to break the moment as he gently tilted her head, her eyes never leaving Neal, until his lips brushed her ear and sent a hot shiver down her spine.
“He looks at you like he wants to just eat you right up, darling,” Hagen’s voice was low and rough and Rebecca gasped at the sheer intensity of his words. “Slide his hands along your gorgeous long legs, spread you wide and just lick you open till you’re wet and begging for it.”
She couldn’t deny it any longer, the low heat slowly building in her bloomed into full blown arousal; she moaned, her eyes still on Neal, Neal whose eyes were so bright, his hands curled into the fabric of his pants so tight his knuckles were white.
“But he won’t, will he?” Hagen continued, the hand on her hip moving lower, further, until the tips of his fingers brushed against the hem of her skirt. “Not while I have you.”
I have you now, my pretty! The thought popped into her head unbidden and she nearly giggled, but the sound turned into a gasp when the fingers found flesh, sliding along her skin leaving trails of heat in their wake. It was so unreal, she could barely believe this was happening - that her date with her international art thief boyfriend had turned into - this, with her in another man’s - his arch-nemesis’ - lap, this sort of a thing only happened on the internet! Or late night TV…
His touch on her skin was electrifying; she moaned deep in her throat, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she shifted in his lap, feeling the evidence of his arousal. The old Rebecca would be scandalized, she thought hazily, would have torn away, protested, but it felt so good, his hands roaming her body like he had every right to, and she loved it. It was the antithesis of the reverent way Neal touched her, but just as good, just as hot, and at the thought of Neal - oh God, Neal was right there - she tensed, suddenly worried about his reaction and oh God how messed up was that it took her so long?
Hagen chuckled, his lips brushing against her ear in a gentle nip. “He knows it. He knows I am going to have you, right here and right now. Make you beg me.” His hand trailed down her throat, gentle yet dangerous and she squeezed her eyes shut, unable to look at Neal, to look away as Hagen continued to speak.
“Neal is going to be a good boy for me and watch me take you apart, darling, and he won’t be moving an inch from where he is now. Isn’t that right, Neal?”
Neal swallowed hard, his hands clenching into the fabric of his trousers leaving creases that would not come out. The sheer smugness in Hagen’s voce was unbearable, almost more so than the sight of his hands on Rebecca…
Rebecca, who looked like there was nowhere she’d rather be right now than trapped in Hagen’s arms, his hands all over her. Rebecca whose face was lit up with the kind of a glow that made a part of Neal itch for a pen, and another flare in agony that it was not he who was putting it there
“Well, Neal? Speak up, boy, let her hear you.” Hagen’s eyes narrowed and Neal swallowed again, his tongue thick in his mouth. There was nothing glib he could say, not when he knew Hagen had too many cards.
“Rebecca…” the words stuck in his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to say it, couldn’t bring himself to tell her that he was just going to sit here and let Hagen…
“N- Neal?” Rebecca’s voice was low and throaty as she spoke, her eyes behind the glasses dark as they met his. He remembered vividly the last time he’d seen that look on her face, an unwelcome bout of warmth gathering inside him at the thought. She looked uncertain, the grip she had of Hagen’s open shirt loosening even as his hand slid higher on her thigh, his fingers brushing the creamy soft skin on the inside. “Are you…?”
Neal had to make his choice. “Yes. It’s okay, Rebecca. ” He whispered, licking his lips.
Hagen had all the cards. Not just the footage, but enough information to not just to strike at Neal but to hurt Rebecca - the hand on her throat, the thumb softly caressing the pulse point was a none too subtle hint of just what Hagen was capable of. Neal did not doubt for one moment that Hagen hadn’t prepared for this, had known that she’d be with him and had precautions in place in case things went ugly.
He’s good. Maybe as good as you.
I was never arrested for murder. Only forgery.
He couldn’t take the risk of Hagen hurting Rebecca, or worse. He closed his eyes, unwilling to even think about the possibility but a soft gasp from Rebecca and tutting noise from Hagen had Neal’s eyes fly open again.
Hagen’s hand was between her legs now, obscured by the soft burgundy fabric but he could see enough of the outline to see it rested right above her pubis, and the flush on her face made it abundantly clear she was not objecting to this.
Oh, Rebecca, sweet, naive, trusting Rebecca. What had he gotten her into?
“Keep your eyes on her, pet,” Hagen purred softly, the dark timbre of his voice sending an involuntary shiver down Neal’s spine. “And put your hands on your sides. You’re only watching.”
With effort, Neal unclenched his hands and set them flat on the sofa, nails immediately digging into the fabric as he watched Rebecca arch her back under Hagen’s touch.
“That’s better.” Hagen’s smile widened. “You should feel her, how wet she’s for me already and I’ve barely touched her.”
Memories of just how responsive Rebecca was assaulted him and Neal bit back an involuntary groan, hands twitching at his sides. He could see Hagen’s fingers glisten as he pulled his hand away, hear Rebecca’s disappointed whimper at the loss of contact.
“Take off your glasses, darling,” Hagen instructed her softly and Neal watched her release her grip of his shirt, her knuckles still pale as she quickly pulled them off and set them on the table. he caught more than eyeful as the halter of her top came loose; he hadn’t realized that the same hand that had been around her throat to make sure he’d obey had also undone the strap and now her dress was not quite pooling down her waist but close, baring her creamy throat and décolletage for Hagen’s mouth.
Neal could not have torn his eyes away from where lips met skin even if he’d tried; Hagen’s lips were red and supple against pale skin, leaving behind a slick trail of red marks that had Rebecca gasping out his name and sinking her long fingers into his hair.
Hagen pulled back and Rebecca made a disappointed noise as he caught her wrist. “None of that, pet,” he admonished her softly, “Or do I have to tie you up?”
“N-no,” Rebecca’s eyes were glassy with desire and Neal realized he, too was squirming as she moved, her body sinuous in Hagen’s hold. “Please…”
Neal watched helplessly as Hagen continued his ministrations, mouthing a path down her throat to the swell of her breasts, pushing the clingy fabric down with his chin as he caught one dark nipple between his lips. When Rebecca cried out at the sharp bite he must’ve lain down, Neal gasped and jolted forward, barely restraining himself in time.
She was gorgeous like this, her eyes hazy with pleasure, with every noise Hagen pulled from her with his lips and tongue. God, if she’d been wet earlier...
The thought brought a burning blush on Neal’s cheeks and he became uncomfortably aware of just how much watching her like this, watching her with Hagen was affecting him; he was breathing heavily, his pulse quickened, and there was no denying the fact that his trousers were getting strained no matter how he tried to shift discreetly knowing Hagen would notice anything overt.
“Oh Hagen please..:” Rebecca’s voice was breaking as she arched her back, the fabric falling the rest of the way to bare her down to the waist; Neal could see Hagen’s smirk against her skin before he lifted his head and knew something was coming as he shifted his hold of her, lightning-quick.
Rebecca yelped as she was moved; the way Hagen had her trapped against him was expert, her wrists pinned between their bodies and her legs straddled over his, facing away from him and towards Neal giving him a perfect view of her flushed body.
Neal inhaled sharply; her short skirt had ridden up all the way to her hips; this time when Hagen’s hand dipped between her legs he could see how turned on she was, the wetness that had soaked through red lace.
“He likes what he sees, kitten,” he could hear Hagen murmur into Rebecca’s ear, see his lips ghosting over her skin. “See how much you want me to touch you. Let him hear it, girl, let him hear you beg me.”
Rebecca groaned deep in her chest, her head lolling back against Hagen’s shoulder. Every fiber of her body was trembling with anticipation as his hand slid over her stomach, over the bunched fabric of her dress to rest where she ached the most. She bit her lip, her cheeks burning as she tried to arch into his touch. She felt like she was drowning in him, the subtle scent of cologne and whiskey and male, the scratch of wool against her skin from his clothes heightening every sensation.
She groaned when his lips found her neck again, teeth and stubble scraping against the sensitive skin only to be soothed away right after, leaving trails of fire in their wake. “Please,” she whispered, her hips moving under his hand, pushing towards him.
“Please what, Kitten? Be more specific. Be very specific.“ His voice was dark honey in her ear and she moaned, her hips chasing his hand. But the arm around her waist held her steady, ground her down into his body and she shivered at the feel of him, pressing against her hard and insistent. She wanted-
“Touch me,” she whispered. “Please.”
“Oh but I am touching you, darling. I’m touching you right here,” his fingers brushed just above the edge of her panties, so close to where she wanted his touch the most that she nearly cried out in frustration. “Tell me what you want.”
“Your fingers,” she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut. She felt the blush on her cheeks grow even deeper, she swore she could feel Neal’s eyes on her as she spoke, “Fuck me with your fingers, please!”
His laughter vibrated through her. “Oh, feisty. Should’ve known with all that glorious red hair of yours. Very well, darling, you get what you asked for oh so nicely…”
Her body quivered with anticipation as his fingers brushed downwards, brushing the fabric of her panties aside with agonizing slowness. She could hear the slick sounds of her own arousal, the thought sending another flash of heat through her already oversensitized body.
She screamed when Hagen plunged two of his fingers deep inside her, her back arching as her hips bore down on his hand, craving more. Hits touch was ruthless, hitting her just right, pushing her so close to the edge she felt tears flooding her eyes as she writhed in his grasp. “Oh god, please…” she sobbed, every nerve in her body on the edge, her body throbbing where his thumb was hovering so close to bringing her off.
“That’s it, kitten,” he purred into her ear as his thumb came down, “Come for Daddy.”
There was nothing quite like having a gorgeous woman come apart in your hands, crying out your name as her body tensed around you. Hagen smiled, sharp and feral as he met Caffrey’s eyes over Rebecca’s shoulder. She was gorgeous and intoxicating and he would have enjoyed taking her apart under any circumstances but watching the helpless, impotent rage and lust warring on the boy’s face just added to the pleasure he derived from her utter abandon.
He bit back a groan as her body tightened around his fingers one more time, and with agonizing slowness pulled his hand away, glistening wet with her arousal. For a moment he considered offering his hand for Caffrey to lick clean but no, the boy would enjoy it too much. Instead, he lifted his hand to Rebecca’s slack lips.
Hagen smiled when he didn’t have to say a thing; her pink tongue began to eagerly lap at his fingers, tasting her own juices on his skin.
Caffrey made a noise and instantly Hagen’s attention was back to him. It was almost disturbing, how naked Caffrey’s emotions were on his face - nothing like the glib untouchable little shit he was majority of the time, no; this was Caffrey getting stripped down and wasn’t there a thought that went straight to his dick?
He toyed with the idea of reaching down, freeing himself and just fucking Rebecca right there, sheathing himself in her before she’d even stopped trembling after her first orgasm but no, that would be far too soon. He would not have an opportunity like this again anytime soon, so he was going to milk it to every last drop.
Pun certainly intended. Rebecca sucked his fingers all the way into her mouth and he could see the muscles in Caffrey’s jaw tighten.
It would be so easy to tip Rebecca over, splay her on the coffee table just barely out of Caffrey’s reach while Hagen buried his face between her long legs, but he was no fool - that would put him in a far too vulnerable position with Caffrey unrestrained, and with the height of the table, well, he was not the one who’d be on his knees by the time the night was over.
The bereft noise she made when he pulled his fingers away was beautiful; she gasped when he took hold of her hips. It did not take a lot of effort to shift her sideways and let her move her hands again. This time, when she tangled long fingers in his hair he did nothing to stop her; instead he let her pull him into a kiss, his tongue tracing the salt still clinging to her lips.
She yelped when he stood up abruptly, lifting her with ease; he may not have had Caffrey’s evident physique but he was far more than capable of sweeping Rebecca up, her arms twining around his neck as he strode over to the dining table. It would have been even better had she had her legs around his waist, but beggars can’t be choosers and that chair really was not built with congress in mind.
Noting on the table was of importance - it took but a moment to set her on the edge and swipe half the table clear, before he kissed her again, devouring the softness of her mouth. “Lie back, darling” he instructed her as he took a step back, running his hands down her sides. “Let’s get this off you.”
As he slid his hands under the fabric, tugging the discreet zipper that was the only thing holding her dress still in place, he reflected on how gorgeous she was like this, how delectable; her disheveled hair fanning out around her shoulders like a halo of blood and fire, the color on her cheeks matching the marks he’d left on her skin. And they’d barely even gotten started - he was going to make sure she was insensate with pleasure by the end of the night. So much more satisfying than anything else he could do to her with Caffrey’s eyes on them.
Speaking of the devil… “Caffrey,” he purred, “Get up.”
He could feel Rebecca’s curiosity and anticipation as she squirmed under his hands, clearly unsure of this new development.
“Hush, darling,” he whispered and ran a hand along the inside of her thigh, feeling the slickness of her skin.
Watching Caffrey stand up, the stiffness in every move, the flush that Hagen would have bet went all the way down his chest and the unmistakable bulge in those tailored trousers, well, it was quite a treat. But leaving Caffrey there, well, it would not quite work.
“Turn that chair to face us and sit down.”
Neal fought to get his breathing under control as he moved over to the chair Hagen indicated, taking care to not to scrape it along the floor as he moved it. His hands clutched the upholstery and he swayed on his feet, finding it hard to move to do as he’d been told.
The look on Hagen’s face, the unspoken, smug good boy smarted and Neal wanted nothing more than to stride over, to, wipe that expression of Hagen’s face -
Again, Hagen’s hand circled Rebecca’s throat and Neal stilled, slumping into the chair. He licked his dry lips, taking care to set his hands on the arms of the chair before being prompted to do so. From here, the view he had of Rebecca splayed on the table and Hagen looming over her was almost more tormentous than the vision of the two of them close enough to touch.
“You should see him, darling,” Hagen was leaning down to murmur into Rebecca’s ear; even form here Neal could see the flash of white teeth, see the soft brush of lips against heated skin. “He wants you so badly but he wants to be good for me even more.”
The words hit him hard. Neal felt color rise to his cheeks, wanted to stand up, wanted to protest but he couldn’t; the words were dragging into surface something he’d been trying to extinguish ever since he’d seen Hagen here, ever since the first murmured command the man had issued to him. Some part of him was enjoying this, was enjoying the challenge, the control - even the helplessness.
Neal bit back a groan and shifted on his seat, consciousness of just how turned on he was. Watching Rebecca come in Hagen’s arms had been pure torture and now, watching her writhing and moaning as Hagen ran his mouth all over her…
The noise Rebecca made when Hagen licked between her legs was inhuman; her back arched off the table, her hands scrabbling for purchase but finding none. Hagen must’ve said something since they didn’t go for his hair, didn’t pull him closer to her as he began to leisurely tease her.
Neal groaned; he could remember the taste of her, how slick and responsive she was like this, the feel of her nails digging into his scalp as he’d lavished attention on her, how demanding…
She was different under Hagen but no less beautiful. From this angle he had a perfect view of her face; he couldn’t see what Hagen was doing that wrenched those desperate sounds from her but he could guess, could see his hands against her pale skin, feel the need building under her skin with every slow lick and deep stab of Hagen’s devilish tongue.
Neal gritted his teeth, his hands pressing down on the armrests of the chair. He tried to breathe deeply, to clear his head from the maelstrom of anger and want that was tumbling through him but to no avail; Hagen lifted his head and Neal could see his tongue flicker out, bear down on where Rebecca wanted it most, bringing her into another crying orgasm.
Hagen’s eyes never left his as he lowered his head again, lapping at Rebecca, giving her no time to recover. She moaned, her body contorting against the touch but Hagen’s arm kept her pinned in place, a hand grasping her ankle and pushing her leg higher on the table.
His own panting breath echoing harshly in his ears, Neal became entranced by the movements of Hagen’s mouth, by Rebecca’s moans and spasms. He could not have told you how many times Hagen brought her off even if his life had depended on it, her cries and incoherent pleading for more a siren’s benediction.
I haven’t come this many times in a row since I got my first vibrator, The thought bubbled out as a hazy giggle in Rebecca’s mind as Hagen drew back, giving her a moment to breathe. She lifted her head off the table, blood still pounding in her ears as she watched him smile, languid and smug, at Neal.
Part of her wanted to just drop her head back down, close her eyes and ride his sinful mouth again and again, but there was more that she wanted - more than just his tongue or fingers in her, a deep ache that had intensified every time he tore an orgasm out of her wrecked body.
She winced as she sat up, the muscles in her stomach quivering in aftershocks; Hagen raised an eyebrow, smile not wavering as she grasped him by the collar and kissed him. Just like the first time, she could taste herself on him, his hands moving to grip her by the waist as she bit at his lips.
“Feisty,” he murmured again when he pulled back, his hand running over her spine, coming to cup the base of her skull so lightly she shivered. “Had enough, darling?”
She gasped when the fabric of his shirt brushed against her sensitized breasts; I’m the only one naked she thought for a moment before she determinedly reached down, grasping his belt in her hand and pulling him closer.
“No,” she panted into his mouth, “Want… more.”
Every nerve of her body was energized and craving more; the cold surface of the table beneath her seemed distant, the only things that mattered the rough fabric and Hagen’s hard body against her and the weight of Neal’s gaze.
“More you say?” she felt more than heard Hagen’s growl. “That’s a good girl. Don’t be shy kitten; tell daddy exactly what you want.”
And make it loud was implicit, but it just made her run hotter. Rebecca had never imagined anything like this, of how excruciatingly hot it was to be on display like this.
She turned to look at Neal over her shoulder; Hagen took immediate advantage, burying his face in her neck, all soft lips and beard burn interspersed with bites.
Neal’s eyes were huge and luminous, his knuckles white and the tendons in his arms straining with the grip. But it was the way his lips were half open, glistening from where his tongue darted out to moisture them that had her moan. She’d never felt more wanted in her life.
And she’d never wanted it more. Old Rebecca would not have dared to want, but new Rebecca let it carry her, exalt her, closed her eyes and whispered “Fuck me.”
She shivered when his hand moved over her shoulder, coming to rest at the top of her arm. “Just checking, love,” he murmured, finger pressing against a hard spot in her flesh: “This what I think it is?”
“Yes,” she answered, licking her dry lips. She knew what he was asking and how incredibly stupid it was to acquiesce; she hadn’t with Neal, not that he’d asked, and Hagen was even more of an unknown, a stranger, a felon, and she was… absolutely on board with this. Another first.
“Good… I’m going to enjoy fucking you bare,” his voice was dark and heavy and sent a bolt of heat through her. “You’re gonna feel every inch of me inside you.”
Rebecca closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. She felt his hold of her change; she was pulled away from the table, her legs stiff and trembling as she was gently guided to turn around and bend over. For a moment another hysterical giggle threatened to escape her; she was still wearing her high heels and they made it so easy to stretch out, to have Hagen’s hands slide over the sensitive skin of her thighs as he positioned her to his liking.
She opened her eyes when she heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper.
Still the only one naked, she thought with a touch of hysteria as her eye locked with Neal’s; a shiver ran through her body when he felt the rough fabric of Hagen’s pants brushing against her bare skin, his fingers trailing along her spine from the small of her back to tangle in her hair.
She fought the urge to close her eyes and arch her back when she felt him nudging against her, blunt and insistent. Her body quivered in anticipation and need, her hips rocking back towards Hagen.
He leaned close, his breath hot against her skin as his lips ghosted over her neck. “What do we say kitten?”
“Please,” she moaned, the words sticking to her suddenly dry lips. She wanted him so badly, wanted him to finish what his fingers and tongue had started. She wanted to feel him inside her, wanted him to push her down, fill her up and fuck her…
“That’s it, girl, beg for Daddy to give it to you.” She could feel his chuckle against her back; she realized she’d spoken aloud as she felt him against her, the tip of his cock brushing her oh so sensitive clit tantalizingly.
It was as if a dam broke inside her; her back arched and more words spilled from her lips, a torrent of filth begging him to please touch her, fuck her, take her. She couldn’t bear to meet Neal’s eyes, averting her eyes but Hagen’s hand was there, yanking her head up and towards Neal. The sharp tug on her scalp should have hurt but it only sent a spark of excitement through her, arousing her further.
“Eyes on Neal, kitten.” She couldn’t look away any more, could not tear her eyes away from Neal’s, the darkened tumultuous blue that was so full of want. The weight of his gaze on her was as if Neal, too, was touching her instead of only observing, pinned in place by Hagen just as she was.
It was too much to bear. When Hagen finally slid inside her with one swift thrust she screamed out his name, eyes screwing shut as she writhed under him. The pace he set was just as swift and brutal, pushing her inexorably towards the edge.
His large hand slid down over her hip, to brush rough fingertips against her clit; it was enough to send her tumbling over into a keening orgasm, pleasure pulsing through her body like a wildfire.
He groaned, his grip of her tightening but he gave her no chance to rest; he felt impossibly large inside her as he kept moving, his pace now more languid but the strokes deeper.
She felt him tug her hair again and moaned.
“Open your eyes, darling.”
The feel of her body contracting around his in another orgasm was maddening; Hagen gritted his teeth, determined to not to let himself come just yet. She could still form coherent sentences and that just would not do. He did not intend to finish until she was completely wrecked…
Or, until the brat, came in his trousers.
Yes, as much as Rebecca was a gorgeous, lush creature of fire and passion, he would not have been so adamant had Caffrey not been staring at them hungrily, all pretense gone from his face. The boy was so close to begging, Hagen could see the way the pink tongue darted out, the unspoken words formed by dry lips.
If Caffrey did come he’d put the boy across his knee in a heartbeat.
The thought spurred him on; not that he needed much encouragement. The noises Rebecca made under him were intoxicating. He tightened his grip of her waist, slamming forward. She’d reached the point where she’d cry if he touched her clit, so sensitive and swollen, but she was still gasping towards another orgasm from his cock alone.
He felt her shudder and tighten around him once more, the heat of her gripping him like a vise. But it was the hoarse whisper that was it, the final straw of conquest. “Curtis…”
It was impossible to ignore the plea; his hips snapped forward and he let himself go. He let the white-hot heat banked at the base of his spine rush through him, and with a strangled groan he came hard, buried deep inside her.
He fought against collapsing on top of her; He swayed forward, bracing a hand on the table as he rode out the aftershocks. Blood still pounding in his ears he looked up at Caffrey, and smiled. The brat was still as hard and desperate as ever.
He slowly withdrew from Rebecca’s body, hissing at the sensation and the wet sounds of their mingled release. She made a weak sound, her body languid as it lay spread on the table.
Slowly, he ran his hands over her soft skin, rapidly cooling now that she was no longer in motion, at the constant edge. He leaned forward to lay a soft kiss on her temple, lips barely brushing her pale skin. “Good girl,” he murmured, squeezing her hip. “You did so well.”
Her eyelids fluttered open and she tilted her head, a small content moan leaving her lips. “Do I... do I get to watch the next time?”
Hagen laughed. Oh, she really was something. “Depends on if you’re good.” He nipped gently at her ear. “If you’re both very, very good, you’ll get to be in the middle.”
That little oh she made was quite delightful.
Without further preamble he stepped back, taking his time to tuck himself away, eyes still on Caffrey. The connection between them sizzled rife with promise, and Hagen considered his options as he slowly walked over to where Caffrey still sat, body taut as a bowstring, trembling with every step.
Caffrey cried out when Hagen’s hand came up and grabbed him by the hair, tugging hard; his body folded down beautifully, knees hitting the hardwood floor with an audible thud.
Hagen leaned close, lips brushing against Caffrey’s ear. “Learn your lesson yet, Caffrey?”
He could feel emotions warring within the brat, the shame mixing with anger and desperate arousal. Caffrey looked up at him with wide blue eyes, lips parted and wasn’t that a pleasant thought for another time.
Hagen tightened his grip fractionally. “And what did we learn today?”
Caffrey shuddered violently, his face twisting as if he was fighting to keep his eyes from lowering. “That I’m- that I’m yours.”
Hagen smiled at the bitterness that laced the words; bitterness and a hint of longing, something he had not expected when he first came to call upon Caffrey. “And your pretty little girlfriend?”
Caffrey’s eyes dropped. “She’s…. She’s yours.”
“Good boy.” He let go of Caffrey’s hair, the back of his hand brushing against the boy’s cheek. “Go look after her.”
Hagen left without looking back, Rebecca’s crimson lace thong tucked into his pocket.