Disclaimer: I own nothing but my twisted imagination.
A/N: This fic is not meant to offend anyone or cause some outrageous revolt. It is simply the product of too much time on my hands and too much imagination to help it thrive.
Pairing: Lana Winters/Oliver Thredson. Don’t like, don’t read, it’s as simple as that. Contains mature scenes and sexual situations, but you should expect that anyway since after all, this is American Horror Story right?
A/N: This takes place back in Lana's apartment in her bedroom at first chapter of Dance with Darkness.
"What are you going to do, Oliver?" Lana asked cautiously, backing up against her bed as Oliver stepped into the room.
"Something I've wanted to do since I last saw you in that courtroom, watching me watching you." Oliver said in a low voice, his hands pulling the hem of his blue Briarcliff shirt out his pants and hurriedly pulling at the buttons of his blue pants.
Lana’s eyes bulged, panic stricken through her as she watched those thick fingers set to work, knowing full on what the implication meant.
“Wait…” she began quietly, the promise of tears ready to spill from her eyes.
“For what? So we can have a conversation like civilized people? I think those days have been long gone after you told me how you aborted our child and then you left me behind to rot in that hell hole.” He broke in.
Her eyes stayed glued to his hands as the zipper of his pants came undone. She felt the adrenaline course through her veins and all she could do was focus on the door behind his tall frame, her last chance at freedom. He advanced on her and she tried to dart passed him, but Oliver was faster and much stronger than she. He grabbed her by her wrist and flung her back against her mattress. She bumped against it with a soft thud and slid to the plush white carpet.
He was on her immediately, sitting on top of her and forcing her flat by her wrists. Oliver then held her down with a large hand pressed against her chest with just enough pressure not to hurt her, but to keep her right where he wanted her. Her knees wriggled under his arms and bumped against his chest to try to push him back, but it was to no avail. He had firmly planted himself between her legs and there was nothing she could do force him out. His other hand found the end of her pink rumpled dress and he quickly pushed the fabric up her hips.
“Oliver, stop!” Lana cried out as she grabbed onto his arm at her chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of his black jacket desperately. She felt him reach under her bottom, grabbing a handful of the plump skin found there. He then roughly tugged at her panties, his short nails raking her skin as they were pulled down her legs in one quick tug.
“Shhh… Stop fighting, Lana. This was inevitable. You know that.” he chastised above her, tossing her white panties to the side.
He watched her expression closely as his middle and index finger immediately slipped into the hot passage between her thighs. Oliver felt the forgotten heat of her inner walls surround and clench his fingers and a flood of warmth rushed straight to his groin so quickly that he almost felt lightheaded by loss of adequate blood flow to his brain. Lana closed her eyes and whimpered beneath him when his fingers withdrew and traced a wet, slippery pattern along the smooth edges of her slit.
“I’ve missed the way you felt around me. In fact, I couldn’t stop thinking about it….” he said quietly as he teased her and then sucked the wetness from fingers, his eyes closing and a deep sound of approval issuing from his throat at being able to taste her on his tongue again.
Lana stared wide-eyed up into the tired, dark pools of the monster above her and his own leered right back at her through the windows of his round glasses. The large pad of his warm thumb then found the little round bud above her entrance and he wasted no time in circling it mercilessly as his already wet fingers slipped back into her. Oliver wasn’t gentle with her, not this time. After all of the hell he’d been through in the past two months inside Briarcliff, he needed to show her what being away from her had done to him.
She would learn this lesson… And suffering would be her teacher.
Her head fell back as his thick, slick fingers alternated between sliding into her one by one to two all at once. The tips of his fingers dragged along the sensitive spongy walls at the roof of her sex and the sounds his fingers made inside her as they moved quickly was driving him insane. He smirked at her. She was still very tight and the way she was soaking his fingers despite herself urged his desire to bury himself within her all the more.
His hand holding her down at her chest didn’t budge and he used his other to hastily push his pants and white underwear halfway down his hips, pulling his straining member free. He ran his fingers along the hard length of it momentarily and swiped his index finger along the tip to collect the drop of moisture gathering there. He leaned up and slipped that same finger between her already open lips, spreading the drop on her tongue before it withdrew.
“Oliver…” she whimpered, her walls clenching of their own will in search of his fingers.
He ran a hand through his thick mess of short dark hair, brushing them out of his eyes as he focused his attention on the task at hand. His eyes drank in the sight of her bright pink folds so close to him and he shifted, pushing the round, plump tip into her, his hips plowing forward until he was completely entrenched in her hot, slick cavern.
Oliver groaned, his brows knitting together and he felt Lana’s body stiffen beneath him, her fingers grasping tightly and pulling at his black jacket.
“Aah!” she cried out, her eyes screwing tight at his quick entrance and tightened up around him.
He pulled out of her quickly and pushed all the way back in, not giving her time to adjust to him again. “That’s it. Take it all in, Lana.”
Lana finally looked into his lusty gaze, his brow becoming beaded sweat as he pumped his shaft into her quickly. Her body jerked against the carpet from his jarring thrusts and she felt her back arching as he filled her completely. She hated the way he could make the space between her hips feel so good. She’d always lied to herself after he’d first taken her in his basement, saying that it was only her imagination to help her cope. But right now he was turning all of that into the most poisonous of lies.
“God… Why do you do this to me?” she crooned, her eyelids fluttering and her hips thrusting upward to meet his.
“I told you… Your baby has missed you.” he chuffed and smirked down at her.
She reached up and smacked his left cheek hard, the same side she had previously tried to bash his face in with the help of Wendy’s picture.
His head twisted to the side from the force of it and his face turned firm when he turned back to her. He leaned over her, covering her smaller body completely with his. He pushed her hands down next to her shoulders and covered her hands with his to help keep her pinned beneath him. The weight of him above her forced her thighs to spread almost painfully wide to help accommodate him between them, forcing her bare toes to reach for the ceiling above them.
Oliver groaned, removing his glasses and sliding them over the carpet and safely out of the reach of their flailing limbs. He pressed his cheek against hers, his warm breath beating against her skin and he pondered as to whether or not his short bristly stubble hurt her. The new positioning was allowing him deeper access and the sound of their slick skin bumping against each other from his forceful thrusts only seemed to drive him on. Her hips were molding so perfectly to his that in the back of his mind he wondered if she had been made to fit him all along. His hips rolled and snapped, one of his hands reaching down to run along her thigh and bottom, reveling in the way her smooth, warm skin felt beneath his touch.
She had stopped all the scuffling and fighting and aggravating defiance, but she turned her face away from his, her eyes trained on the darkened doorway next to them and he frowned. Even when she was behaving, she still managed to piss him off. His wandering hand found her jaw and he turned her back toward him and crushed his lips to hers.
His hard driving member created a deliciously hot friction and the girth of it was filling the once empty space between her legs so completely that Lana sighed against his lips, whispering his name accidently. Her fingers had found the back of his neck and they slipped into the back collar of his jacket, the tips of them dancing along the top of his spine.
Oliver felt a shiver wash down his back at her touch and his thrusts switched from quick to slow and vice versa, finding that the faster he moved, her walls would grasp onto him all the more tightly. He moaned and sighed against her face as he plundered her increasingly wet depths. She was just squeezing him so tightly….
He pulled from her grasp and sat up on his knees, his pants still bunched around his thighs. He grabbed her hips and pulled them up with him, his hands grasping them at either side to keep her still in case she might change her mind and try to bolt. Her back arched as he thrust quickly into her in long unforgiving strokes. She whined as he began to bump deliberately up against the sweet tender spot he was assaulting earlier with his long fingers.
Oliver heard Lana whine, her fingers reaching over her head as her nails raked through the white loops of carpet beneath him. He didn’t stop his assault and his eyes grew wide, his lips parting as she suddenly came all over the length of him, soaking his skin with hot, wet convulsions all around him.
“Ah!” Oliver exhaled. His eyes rolled behind his eyelids and felt his lower stomach tighten as his felt his seed shoot up the length of his member and spill like liquid heat freely into her waiting womb. He pumped slowly into her spasming core, letting her walls draw every last bit of it out of him.
His dark eyes opened after a moment and he looked back to Lana beneath him, his hands finally letting her body fall limply back to the carpet. She didn’t move and let him run his hands along the skin of her flat stomach and thighs until he slid his softening member out of her.
As he extricated himself from inside her, Oliver smirked to himself at finding his thick white semen had slid down her inner thighs. He turned from her and rose up on his knees to right his underwear. She thought that locking him up would be her saving grace, but she had only given him all the more reason to want to find a way out. His attachment to her while in Briarcliff only seemed grow the longer they stayed apart, clinging to his very thoughts and ambitions like a disease.
Her heard a soft shuffling behind him and turned. Lana had pulled herself toward the door while Oliver wasn’t looking, her fingers finding half of the wrinkled photograph of Wendy and she shrieked when she felt a large hand grasp her ankle and pull her roughly back into the bedroom and under the man she still desperately wanted to get away from.
He turned her over and snatched the torn image from her fingers, tossing it over his shoulder. Before she could speak, he waved a large finger in front of her eyes, shaking it as though he were chastising a child.
“No… Wendy won’t be able to save you this time.” Oliver said darkly, looking down into her eyes.