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She taps her finger on the chalkboard, tracing pictures as she goes. If she had to guess the time she’d say it’s no later than 2:00 am, but she’s not tired. In fact she’s never felt more alive.
Which is funny, because she’s so unsure about what to do next that the thought of tomorrow is starting to make her feel sick. She had toyed with the idea of leaving a note to have some sort of dramatic farewell that would close this chapter of her life. But that doesn’t seem...poetic enough? Maybe that feeling stirring deep inside her is guilt; she’s a goddamn bleeding heart to the very end, even to those who don’t need her pity.
Whatever the case may be, she doesn’t run off into the night. Such a thing just wouldn’t be right—a stupid sentiment to keep after all the CIA has done to her, MK-Ultra is the furthest thing from righteous on the moral scale. She’s still a person with feelings and empathy though, even if her hands are doused in blood, she has some shred of humanity left and she plans on keeping that.
Sometimes she has to remind herself that she’s a good person.
Numbly her hand drops back to her side and she circles around the table where scattered pieces of evidence lay. She wishes they could be here to watch this place burn.
Bell needs closure. Simple as that.
She grabs a tattered slip of paper, torn at the edges and weathered from age, and crumples it up in her fist. Just to feel something. It doesn’t work like she wants it to.
Her eyes lift to the door where the outside world is waiting with its endless possibilities. There’s a part of her that wouldn’t mind walking out. It’s not an option, it never was. In the end it’s a struggle to drag her feet in the opposite direction of what very well could be her salvation. It almost feels like the metal door and the whistling wind that can be heard from behind it is taunting her as she makes her choice. She keeps somewhat quiet, slipping down the hall until she ghosts her fingers across Adler’s door. He doesn’t sleep much, they all know that, and maybe it’s simply routine for the rest of the team to hear him wander the halls at night. Chain smoking usually, to calm his nerves he once told her. Or sipping on some sort of drink. Coffee or tea, the occasional beer when the thoughts in his head get too loud. Sometimes he just sits outside, breathing in the fresh air. The safehouse can seem overbearing and claustrophobic in the wake of a nightmare.
That’s where he must be tonight, because when she pushes open the door to the office turned bedroom he’s not where he should be. The blankets on his bed are pulled up high, freshly made—she expects nothing less from him.
Lazar is snoring in the bed across from Adler’s bunk, on his stomach with his face smashed into a thin pillow. She envies his ability to sleep so easy.
Adler must’ve left his room long before her, she didn’t hear anyone pass her to go outside.
The night chill feels heavenly on her skin when she steps out onto the dirt. She didn’t realize how hot she had been until she was standing outside with her eyes closed, the wind tossing her hair around and cooling her off.
She’s always liked this place. It makes a damn good thinking spot.
But the man she’s looking for isn’t here. At least not anywhere nearby that she can see. She kicks a loose rock, lips pursed in a lousy whistle. Her head is tipped down to track her own feet moving steadily along the dips and ridges of the terrain.
She isn’t paying attention like she should be.
A hand clamps over her mouth, another around her middle and she gets yanked back into a solid wall of heat. Bell goes to scream, to jab her elbow into the soft spot of her attacker’s stomach, but their lips brush the shell of her ear and she recognizes the voice.
“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt here and say you weren’t trying to run off in the middle of the night without a kiss goodbye, at the very least.”
The hand covering her mouth falls away to rest on the curve of her neck. Cupping her throat and thumbing at the thick cartilage that dips with each swallow. She sucks in a sharp breath, fresh adrenaline flooding her system from the shock.
“You—you lied to me!” It’s the first thing she thinks to say. And she immediately feels silly for it, like some school girl. Embarrassment makes her cheeks burn red and she squirms in his grip.
Adler kisses behind her ear. Sucking the sensitive patch of skin there until she gasps, giving him the reaction he’d been looking for. “Hm?”
“I thought you…” she trails off, her cheeks still red. With a huff she tips her head back to rest more firmly against his chest. Glaring up at him the best she can with their current position. “I thought you cared , asshole.”
“What makes you think I don’t? Was the sex that bad?”
“You told Hudson—“
“You were spying on us? Bad girl, Bell. That’s not how I trained you.” He notices the shiver that runs up her spine. Whether it’s his voice or just his words, or even a mixture of both, he can’t be sure. “Let me explain something to you-“
“—No.”
“Bell.” The clear cut tone his voice takes on, the pure authority it radiates, makes her fall silent. “There, quiet.” He walks backwards, dragging her with him, until they’re stopped by the brick exterior of the safehouse. “What were you doing out here?”
She swallows, wriggling in his grip only to have his arm tighten around her stomach. “Looking for you,” she says dumbly. “Found ya.”
“Mhm.” Adler lets his hand fall down to dip into the waistband of her sweats where he runs his fingers over the cotton fabric of her panties. The sensation shoots tiny sparks inside her belly and she inhales loudly. Holding back a moan. But what she can’t help is how she rocks back against his crotch. Muscle memory more than an actual want to please him. “I’m guessing you want some sort of explanation? About Hudson and all that?” Another kiss to the back of her neck, along the top ridge of her spine, “I can give you that. I’d rather have you on my side, you know. I don’t need you mad at me.”
Bell grasps his wrist, momentarily stopping him from toying with her anymore than he already has. He sighs, like he has any right at all to be disappointed, before continuing his descent. He combs through the wiry curls covering her mound, sliding a finger down her slit and over her nub. It all happens so fast that she hardly has time to register her own stirring feelings before she’s whimpering.
Already putty in his hands.
“You’re not mad now, are you, Bell?” He gathers up her wetness with his digit—she's already dripping for him, and pushes into her cunt.
Her back arches, her heel kicking out against the dirt, and she gasps. Too loud. She tips her head to the side and watches the door like it’s a bomb ready to blow. If they get caught...god, there’d be no way to explain that.
“You—you said you’d explain.” Bell is still holding onto his wrist but she isn’t doing anything to stop him. She doesn’t seem too averse to his touch—because she’s not —and so he doesn’t stop.
“This is bigger than any of us. You’re letting your emotions get in the way, that’s the problem.”
He tries to push in another finger, clicking his tongue at the slight resistance he's met with. She’s tight, always has been, and now is no different.
Bell snarls like a wild animal. Angry only at how she can’t mask her feelings like he can. She can’t hide, not when Adler is around. He knows her better than herself and kills her. “Just fucking explain,” she grits out through clenched teeth. Panting heavily. “Don’t try messing with me to soften the blow.” Before he can push the matter, she’s almost positive he will, she shoves away from him. This time successfully delivering a hit to the softest part of his stomach.
The loss of his warmth is immediate and she feels an awful pang of longing that she shouldn’t. But the pained grunt he lets out is worth it. He releases her, though the wall on his back keeps him from staggering.
She spins around quickly, just in case he tries to grab her—he doesn’t, and she takes in his appearance properly in the darkness. Bell wants to throttle him, to pin him down and demand answers quicker than he’s providing right now. She wants to threaten him, to let him know how badly she’ll fuck him over if he lies to her. She's done playing games and being kept in the dark.
But all that fight drains from her body when she sees his face.
So...tired. Maybe it’s to be expected this late in the game, after everything he’s been through with this mission—and with her, she has to be the main cause of his stress, a few months back he thought she’d be dead by now. By his hand no less. That train is so far off track and he’s scrambling to pick up the pieces. She feels bad, stupidly, even if he doesn’t deserve her sympathy. It’s what makes her soften a little, reaching out to cup his jaw and swipe a thumb back and forth until he sighs and leans into her touch.
“Just tell me the truth, Russ.”
If he’s shocked by the nickname he doesn’t show it. Just hums softly and sighs again, warm breath tickling her hand.
“I’m a little too old to be giving a damn about someone, kid, that ship already sailed and it fucking sank.”
She nods like she understands, and in response she sees his lip twitch in annoyance. Bell would bet all the money she’s ever seen that she can guess what he’s thinking: that she’s too young, her memories too fractured, for her to know if she really does feel his pain.
“You’re good people, Bell.” He tugs her hand away from his face, giving it a squeeze before he shoves it back down by her side. “We’ve grown closer than we were supposed to.”
“Yeah? So this wasn't part of the plan then? I’m just what? Collateral damage?”
He doesn’t answer. His fingers twitch, itching for something to hold as a distraction. A cigarette between his fingers or even the curve of her body cradled up against his. His lack of response infuriates her and as much as she wants to deny it she knows it’s because she can’t tell if he’s lying to her or not, if he’s feigning this inner turmoil to suck her back in.
He’d make a damn good agent, right up there with Hudson.
Bell suddenly feels vulnerable. Naive. “You love me then?”
“That’s what I said when you asked before, isn’t it? We’re just going around in circles now. I don’t have time for childish games, Bell.”
Bell snorts. “Fuck you, Russell.” She looks away, eyes fluttering at the telltale sound of a lighter flicking, struggling to catch in the wind before he gets it. The smoke fills her nose first, a scent she associates so strongly with Adler that she wants to cry. He messed her up for anyone else that she ever dares to let in. If she ever does, that is.
Her life is over. And he doesn’t seem to realize that at all.
“I’m going to bed.” Bell turns her eyes back on him, just to see his expression, but he’s got it schooled into an apathetic mask of indifference. Her sorrow doesn’t affect him, she could be a stray alley cat for all he cared. His indifference should make it easy to walk away.
It doesn’t.
Back inside her room, surrounded by lies of a life that had never been real, she feels that same urge to run away, it bubbles up inside her where it festers like a disease. Running away in any random direction sounds glorious . It’s a pipe dream though, stuck as a stubborn thought she can’t shake. Though, alternatively, she could take her pistol and swallow a bullet, but she knows she wouldn’t be able to. The thought of death scares her shitless, as well as the dark unknown that comes after it...no, she can’t do that.
It’s a wonder then that Persues ever chose her to be one of his most trusted allies. She can’t even off herself properly. Which would be the smart thing to do in this situation. She’s a glorified POW and things can’t get any better from here. Lord knows that they won’t let her leave, and if they don’t kill her then they’ll keep her close by their side, she’ll be a soldier until the day she dies. Always watched with a keen eye to make sure she doesn’t switch her loyalties.
Is it wrong that she kind of wants to? Just to see their reactions, to watch the horror that would no doubt etch onto their faces if she were to talk like one of the Ruskies—spewing bullshit she doesn’t even believe herself.
Sounds like a fine way to die, if she had to choose.
Bell can’t sleep when she lays down, she spends an hour staring at the ceiling, counting the tiles over and over again until the numbers start to get all foggy in her head. The door creaks when she pushes it open and she stumbles out into the hallway and squints at the overhead lights. They’re somewhat dimmed for the nighttime, but on nonetheless.
“Why’re you still up?” Park’s voice is pitched low into a whisper. Though if Bell had to guess she’d say that it’s pointless to do so, everyone is probably awake right now. The last dregs of victory from a mission passed still flowing through their veins. That’s great for them, they probably have families at home that they’re thinking about right now. People they’re eager to see before they’re pushed onto the next tour.
Where does that leave her? If she had to choose, she’d want to stay here. In Russia. It’s home, even if she doesn’t remember it like she should, just from what others have told her. But it feels right.
“Bell?”
She jolts a little. Blinking at her friend (Ex-friend?) Bell forces a smile, something crooked that she’s sure Park sees through. “I just can’t sleep.”
“Nightmares keeping you up?”
That’s certainly...an odd thing to ask. It makes Bell pause in her walk down the hallway. She was planning on pouring some day old coffee in the break room, maybe look through the noteboard one last time before the information is passed onto the president to show a job well done. And that thought leads to another niggling one she can’t shake. Bell wonders, distantly, if the president knows about MK-Ultra , if his heart would go out to her. Does he have a wife? Kids? She’s sure the information was planted in her head at one point, but she can’t draw it out right now.
Bell sighs, tugging her hair into a loose ponytail as she considers Park’s question. “Why would I have nightmares?”
“Adler said it might happen. I’m just checking in.”
Bell feels a strange sting of defensiveness bubble up inside her. And she can’t help the snark in her voice when she speaks next. “Why would that happen? I mean...nightmares about what ?”
“We gave you trauma you didn’t have before Bell, Adler has his own fair share of nightmares about Vietnam, you’ve got the same memories about the war. He wanted us to make sure you were okay.”
The job is over, Russell almost killed her the other day with a shot to the head, and now Park’s asking? It seems a little late for that. But that’s fine, whatever clears Park’s conscience so she can sleep at night.
“Then there’s the trauma you got on your own, helping us.” Park steps forward from where she’s leaning on the opposite wall, stopping when she’s just a few inches away from Bell. “He said you might start to remember what happened during MK-Ultra ...the events leading up to it, when we had you in our custody.”
The torture, Bell wants to say. She wants to kick and scream like a child. Accuse them all of being terrible, monstrous people who don’t deserve a good night’s sleep. Adler should be kept up not because of Vietnam, but instead for what he did to her. He’s akin to the devil himself. The rest of them too, for standing by and just watching it unfold.
Bell suddenly feels exhausted. Like she could curl up in a corner and cry for days on end.
“I don’t remember a thing,” Bell eventually says flatly. That’s the truth at least. Her time before becoming Bell is a hazy mystery she doesn’t wish to uncover. She looks down the hall, nose twitching to stave off a sneeze and she coughs. Filling up the awkward silence that she somehow feels is all her fault.
“Okay. That’s good, but you should sleep. Today was...a lot...for all of us.”
She shoulders past Park, done with hearing her bullshit. It’s only making her angrier. In another world she might've been able to show that rage like anyone else, but now that she knows her past, it makes her hesitant. She didn’t notice everyone staring at her before now, but she sees it so clearly, how they walk around eggshells when she’s involved. Especially in the past 24 hours.
She doesn’t want tomorrow to come. Bell can make that happen, and the realization that maybe for the first time she has the power—it’s exhilarating. Much like a teenager finally coming to terms with the fact that they can call some of the shots. This is her choice. And it’d be so easy.
She just needs to get outside—the half baked plan forming in her head is quieter than a gun and less dramatic than running.
Really it’s the only option she has left. She isn’t wanted by the Americans or the Russians. Seen as a liability to one and a traitor to another.
If only she could make Adler realize how badly he fucked her over before she goes.
Russell isn’t outside where she left him, he’s probably sleeping. Finally. Most likely catching up on his rest so he’ll be ready for whatever busy day awaits them tomorrow. She’ll admit, she’s curious about what they could possibly be planning, but it won’t be her concern anymore.
The road isn’t too far from the safehouse. It’s within walking distance, two hours tops. But she pushes it, jogging as much as her weary muscles will allow and makes it there in an hour thirty. She’s almost proud, which is pathetic, considering all her past achievements. But it’s something, one last hurrah, a resounding knowledge that she makes a good enough soldier. She’d pass some sort of physical test, that’s for sure, and the thought makes her laugh.
Fucking pathetic.
Bell stands by the edge of the road and looks both ways. Though she doesn’t have the slightest intention to cross. It’s muscle memory ingrained into her, maybe from her mom or dad, grandparents or a sibling. God, does she have siblings? Is there someone out there besides Perseus and his band of soldiers that are wondering where she might be?
She sits down in the mud, cross legged, and waits. It’s quiet out here, so very far from civilization. Which is the point of a safehouse, granted, but right now it’s driving her mad. She needs a car, or no, a big truck. That would be best. It would minimize the pain, probably kill her instantly. The last thing she wants is to bleed out, or god forbid, get someone who will try to rush her to a hospital and save her life. Dying on impact would help.
Pressure builds behind her eyes, tears threatening to form and drop, but she holds them back the best she can. Which only works for so long until they stream down her cheeks and drop into the dirt.
The sun is starting to rise by the time she hears a car. Good thing too, she was starting to get worried that she’d have to walk along the road in search for one.
She’s sure that everyone at the safehouse is waking up right about now, and in the next hour they’ll realize she’s gone and come looking for her. They’d accuse her of running away, trying to hitch a ride elsewhere. Which would be stupid, she has nowhere to go and she’s almost positive that some small upper tier group in Perseus’ inner ring are out looking for her right now. Getting ready to kill her for her betrayal.
They could probably forgive her for everything else, she had been kidnapped and brainwashed. That much was obvious. But sending Adler’s team to Solovetsky was a conscious choice—maybe if this suicide attempt doesn’t work and the Russians do find her, she could claim ignorance up until the very end. They don’t need to know how Adler put her through hell trying to draw her memories out of her too fast for her own good.
The car is coming slowly around the bend, but she’s far enough down the road that she knows they’ll pick up speed soon. Hopefully they’re the type to go fast down empty deserted lanes that are more dirt than tarmac.
Bell struggles to stand, her feet have fallen asleep and she has to walk in small circles to wake them back up. Shaking away the pins and needles.
The car’s headlights are bright, the kind that are more white than yellow, and they make her squint. She takes a deep breath, braces herself to run out from the cover of the trees, and closes her eyes. She can do this by sound alone, she’d rather not see death hurting towards her.
A coward until the very end.
Focused on the car barreling steadily closer, she doesn’t hear him until she tries to run forward and gets knocked to the ground instead. The car goes past with a whoosh , a missed opportunity, and he holds her down as she flails and struggles.
It takes only a second, a hand pushed roughly against her throat and the other on her shoulder, for her to realize who it is. Not an enemy—not exactly.
“Russell,” It comes out as a breathless gasp, sounding desperate and lost. How dare he? That’s her first thought. Anger and pain wrapping into one volatile mixture. It’s her life, the one he erased and wrote over so carelessly, and now he won’t even let her take it.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He lifts her up by her throat, nails digging into her skin, and he slams her on the ground. It makes her teeth rattle.
“You were following me?”
“Yeah. And good thing I did. You could’ve killed yourself.”
She snorts, reaching up to hold onto his wrist, trying in vain to pry his hand away from where it’s still snug around her throat. He doesn’t move a muscle, if anything his grip tightens until she flops back.
“That was the point.”
Adler’s eyes darken, mouth opening, probably to berate her. Or tell her how stupid she is. Nothing comes though, he just flaps uselessly. At a loss for words since the first time she can remember.
He yanks her up then, fingertips digging into her shoulders as he does so. He pulls her into his lap, though not on purpose, she had gone all octopus on him. Pushing her dead weight so she falls uselessly against his chest. A sob wrenching it’s way up past her throat.
“You’re not leaving us that easy. We need you, Bell.”
“But—“
He shushes her. Wrapping his arms around her midsection and making escape impossible. They’re pressed chest to chest, her arms crushed between them. It’s instinct that makes her burrow her face into the crook of his neck. Breathing in tobacco and detergent.
“We need you,” he repeats more firmly. “You’re more important than you realize.” He takes hold of the nape of her neck. Giving her a little shake. “Why is that so difficult to understand?”
“I was important. Was.” She sucks at her teeth and cringes when her tears fall and hit his neck. “I’m not anymore. You got your guy, the job is done. I have nowhere to go.”
“That’s not true. I can send you somewhere, Bell, anywhere you want to go, just ask.” Adler shifts, his own legs going numb from her weight on top of him. “I promise.”
She leans back to look him properly in the eyes, her lip raising in a snarl. “You’re a liar.” She grabs at the collar of his shirt and bunches up the material in an iron grip.
“Guess you just gotta trust me then.”
Easier said than done. Not like she expects him to understand.
“Believe it or not,” he murmurs softly, “I don’t really like the thought of you dead.”
She blinks. Miffed. “You tried to kill me.”
Adler sighs, all heavy and drawn out. He looks around the forest, at the road beside them, and carefully brushes the hair away from her face. His touch is gentle, impossibly so, and it makes her shiver. He pulls her down, against the hardness in his jeans that she now feels pressing into her inner thigh. When did that happen?
“Can I kiss you?”
Bell flushes scarlet. Back hunching as if to make herself smaller. “Sure. Whatever.”
“Bell…”
Her anger spikes once more. Like a lever being flipped. “What do you want? For me to beg for it?”
Adler shrugs, not adverse to the idea. But he doesn’t ask again, instead the hold he has on the back of her neck tightens and he pulls her down for that kiss. It’s slow and lovely. By all accounts the kind of kiss shared between lovers. Between two people who actually mean something to each other.
There’s a bitter thrum of disgust that settles low in her belly at his softness. She isn’t used to it, in fact she kind of hates it.
Bell breaks it first, gasping for air. She slings her arms around his shoulders, trying to stop the urge to hurt him. To grab his short locks of hair and pull. Maybe even lean down to bite a chunk out of his shoulder, where his loose nightshirt shirt has slipped down his shoulder.
She does neither of those things. He’s faster than her.
He tugs impatiently at her shirt, popping buttons in his wake until he’s wrangling it down her arms and tossing it to the side. His hands span her ribcage, fingers spread wide. There’s a different mood that settles over the night air that wasn’t there the last time they fucked. When he bent her over the table in the lounge and handled her like a toy. Now he’s soft and reverent.
She has to remind herself that this is nothing but a trick, some fucked up ruse to make her compliant. Afterall, for this inane plan of theirs to work she has to trust someone. Who better than him? It’s a painful thought, one she doesn’t hang onto for too long, she just can’t. It would destroy her. She so very desperately wants his feelings to be real.
His hand, rough from calluses, slips inside the cup of her bra. Stealing her thoughts away and filling up his palm with the heaviness of her breast. He hums, pleased as punch, and swipes his finger across her nipple. Making it harden until he can pinch the sensitive bud.
She keens at the slight edge of pain, arching her chest forward and making him chuckle.
“See? You can still play nice for me.”
“Shut up.”
He gives her a sardonic smile in response. Not at all affected by her half hearted insult. It lacks the heat of real anger.
Adler drags her bra down to her middle, letting it get caught there. He toys with her like he’s known her body forever. And in a matter of seconds she’s reduced to a panting mess in his lap. He holds his composure so well compared to her, hardly looking disheveled save for his hair sticking to his forehead from sweat.
Bell whimpers and immediately hates herself for it. She pats at his chest, feeling the hard muscle underneath her touch contract. “Stop. Jus’...wait.”
All at once his hands fall away and he leans back on his palms in the dirt. Looking up at her with a tilt to his head. He’s so much more self assured than her and that drives her wild. It always will.
“Lay back,” Bell whispers, putting an edge of command into her voice. It’s something that she’s more than capable of doing, she’s a soldier just like him, but she still feels inadequate. Strangely though it works like a charm, he does as she asks without complaint.
Not like that does anything to stop him from holding onto her hips to grind up against her clothed sex. The evidence of his arousal is painfully obvious from the bulge trapped in his jeans. So tight that it must hurt by now.
There’s a million cheesy porno lines that came to the forefront of her mind. That she can help him with his problem. Maybe ask him if that’s a gun in his pocket or if he’s just happy to see her. She laughs to herself, that’s below her. She wouldn’t be able to say it with a straight face.
Bell makes a show of taking her pants off. She’s still in her jeans from the day prior, she never got tired enough to even consider changing into something more comfortable. It’s an awkward angle to shimmy her jeans down, she doesn’t want to climb off his lap, she doesn’t want to give up the warmth of him beneath her, so she does her best. Lifting one leg up to the side and yanking at the right material without his help.
It takes a bit of doing, but she manages it. Getting her pants and panties off in one go.
Her hands plant in the center of his chest. Eager to feel any part of him. She wants fast and rough—she needs it— but he stops her when her hands jump to his belt. Already she’s got two fingers inside her slick pussy, stretching herself to skip the foreplay. She’s ready to get this over with for what should be the last time, but the bastard fucking stops her.
He grabs her wrists and gives them a squeeze. “Is this what you want, Bell?”
“Are you fucking—yeah, I want this.” She claws her nails down his chest, catching at the V of his shirt and moving through the wiry hair that she can only imagine leads all the way down to his cock.“You’re worried about my feelings now?” God, the fucking audacity he has.
“I had a little time to think about you offing yourself. So yeah, I’m worried.” Adler holds both her hands in one of his, he’s so big, it makes her head swim, and undoes his own belt. He doesn’t undress like she does. He doesn’t have to go through the effort of kicking off his shoes just to get his pants and boxers down.
Instead he just pulls his dick out through the hole his downed fly makes. It’s got to hurt, she sees his zipper biting into the fleshy, sensitive skin around the base of his dick. But he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s too busy stroking up and down his shaft. Wetting it with his own saliva.
Adler releases her wrists to hold onto her hip and draws her down just an inch. Right above his cock, and he slides the tip up and down her folds. Teasing her. “Are you still thinking about what I said to Hudson?”
“...of course.”
He hums, pleased with her honesty, and tries to tug her forward. She doesn’t move, instead her knees lock around his middle. Digging into his ribs.
Adler sighs, giving her another pull, moving her an inch up his body. Away from his cock and up his chest. She still wishes his shirt were off. “Come on up here. Let me taste you.”
Bell squeaks out a note of surprise as he manhandles her. Getting her where he wants her, hovering her bare cunt above his face. It’s not the most comfortable position, her knees are planted into the dirt beside his head, getting cut up with twigs and pebbles. It’ll leave marks later, for sure.
She doesn’t know where to put her hands. She’s nervous and that’s terribly obvious. Her fingers dance around his forehead and in his hair. Hoping for stability.
Adler notices her hesitation, because of course he does, and huffs a laugh that makes her jump. “How about I give you a choice,” he starts. Speaking right into her cunt, breathing in her scent until her impatience grows tenfold and she squirms. “I can eat you out like this, make you cum for me because I love how pretty you sing for me, or,” he kisses above her navel. Stretching to reach. “Or you can flip around and get me nice and wet so I can fuck you.”
Bell whimpers, her walls fluttering around nothing. The mental images his words conjure up inside her head is enough to make her lose her train of thought until it narrows down to nothing but him and how close he is to touching her.
“Well, what’ll it be?”
“I—you mean like 69?”
“Mhm.”
She feels out of her wheelhouse here, like she doesn’t know what she’s doing, and hell, maybe she doesn’t. There’s a good chance the memories she’s drawing up are fake too, that they took away her most intimate moments to hide her Russian ties.
“Okay. Yeah. let me just—” she coughs and shivers at the morning chill. He guides her, hands never leaving her body as he moves her around to face his cock. Her pussy right over his face, dripping slick.
“Already so wet and I haven’t even done anything. I guess I should be flattered.”
Her cheeks burn red and she’s thankful for their position so he can’t see. He’d poke fun. He doesn’t deserve the moan he pulls out of her at the first lap of his tongue, but she gives it to him all the same. Surprised at his pace. It’s not rough, per se, but it’s fast, more demanding than the kiss had been. No more false niceties. That allows her to breathe a bit easier.
He holds her hips, tugging her back onto his tongue with each lick. He’s got her spread wide, holding her so low that he’s just barely opening her folds up to expose her. There’s an awful slick sound that his mouth makes as he eats her out, intent on making her come right here. Out in the open where anyone could stumble past.
Speaking of which…
“What about the others? Shouldn’t we—“
Adler pulls back minutely, huffing out a laugh that makes her hips wriggle. “They don't know where either of us are, I bet they’re looking though.” He gives one of her cheeks a light slap and a squeeze that makes her moan. “Better hurry up then.”
Her head thunks forward against his stomach, eyes twitching when she catches sight of his cock resting heavy with blood against his stomach. Right, there’s another piece to this puzzle and she hasn’t been doing her part.
Cautiously Bell reaches out to hold him, smearing his precum down his length and immediately having to spit into her hand to make the next couple of drags less painful.
He sucks in a breath and stops his ministrations, groaning low in his throat and kissing her inner thigh. Back to sweet and loving. It gives her whiplash from how quick he’s able to change.
Bell wraps her lips around the tip of his cock. Swirling her tongue around in circles. Tracing along a large vein, searching for any sensitive spots. Any weaknesses. It doesn’t take long to find one. Right on the underside of his uncut tip. She pushes down on the patch of skin, teeth dragging down and hoping that’s not too far. She wouldn’t ever dare to bite down, she just hopes he knows that.
Adler sighs and pets her flank, a sweet gesture he offers her that makes her muscles go lax. That is until he dives back in. Lapping up her slick like a man starved. He kisses at her folds, moving down and finding her clit with ease. His tongue flicks out at the tender nub and she has to pull off his cock before she accidentally bites down.
“Doing alright down there?”
For fucks sake…
“Keep going. Please.” There’s nothing she hates more than begging. It’s a weakness to admit so openly that she needs someone else in such a way. But she can’t help it. She does need him. Even if it’s painful to know that he doesn’t feel the same way in return. She could be gone tomorrow and he would be right as rain. For him, life would go on.
Adler pats her ass. Hard enough to make her cheeks bounce. He smiles into the next lap of his tongue through her folds. Teasing around her entrance. “Mhm. Gonna make you cum first before I fuck you.” He teeths at her clit, just bordering on painful. “How’s that sound?”
She groans, going back to stroking his dick and giving it small licks. Down to his balls and right back up to the head. His scent is so strong when she’s up close like this, it’s overwhelming.
“Huh, Bell? Answer me.”
“Fuck—“ she nips at his thigh. Just to hurt him. “Yeah, yes. Sounds great, just please keep going.” Bell looks up at the road, at the sky, it’s getting brighter now. They’re running out of time.
She feels him smile when he goes to eat her out again. This time twisting in a finger and curling it up. He hits her g-spot and the sudden pleasure makes her keen. That familiar feeling starts building up in her belly. Shooting sparks that makes her cunt tighten until she’s hurting off the edge and cumming hard.
He doesn’t gloat like she expects him to. In fact she was bracing herself for it. But it never comes. He just slides his fingers out, shushing her when she whimpers from the sensitivity.
Adler nudges her up and off him where he sits back in the dirt to let her come to her senses. He’s content to watch the way her tits move up and down with each heavy breath. His fingers drum out a steady rhythm, following a beat in his head.
“Come here. In my lap.”
Oh...oh, that’s a fantastic idea. She nods sporadically. Crawling forward until she’s got her legs on either side of his hips.
His dick slides against her thigh, smearing wetness in its wake. She doesn’t waste any time—she has to have him inside her now, before it’s too late. They might not have another chance after this. Lord even knows if she’ll see this team again.
“Ready?” He asks in the shell of her ear. Sliding a large palm down her spine to heft her over his length.
Bell nods, too breathless to speak.
And just like that he slides inside. His length pops inside and it’s painfully tight. As if they hadn't fucked less than 24 hours ago. She gasps, her nails scrambling to hold onto his shoulders for some kind of leverage.
It seems to do the trick. She manages to get into a proper position to roll her hips down. Meeting him thrust for thrust. It’s laughably easy to get lost in the motions of him fucking her. Just as rough and fast as she needs it to be. He holds onto the back of her head and draws her in to lay on his chest. His grunts fill her ears, animalistic and raw in the best kind of way. The sound of skin slapping skin drowns out anything else from the outside world but she can’t find it in her to care.
Bell let’s go then, she moans and whines with each thrust. She clenches her muscles around his cock just to hear him curse, laughing at the insane amount of control she has right now. The most she'll probably ever have when he’s involved. But it’s enough to go straight to her head and that feeling builds up again. Right in the pit of her stomach where she squirms against him. Trapped by his bear-like hug, keeping her snug against his chest.
It borders on the edge of being too much. The dregs of her last orgasm are still lingering and she’s about to tell him to stop. She can’t do this, but he nips at the skin of her throat and chases her lips until they meet in the middle for a kiss that leaves her breathless.
“Don’t—not inside.”
“I know, I know.” He only sounds slightly peeved at the reminder. But it doesn’t last for long, he’s too focused on desperately chasing his end as his thrusts grow faster and sloppier.
Around the time his groans reach a higher Ed crescendo—so fucking close—is around the time she hears the car coming. Bell should tell him to stop. Just for a second. At least so they can fix themselves up, so they’re not in such a compromising position. But then his hand drops between them to rub at her clit in fast circles and she loses all train of thought.
“Russel, you—ohh, f-fuck…”
“Right there, huh? Is that it, Bell, that’s all you need?”
She chants out a chorus of ‘yes’ intermingled with his name, cumming around his dick in the next second. Her walls trap him in a vice grip.
Adler doesn’t stop completely but his pace slows enough in the next second for her to take notice of the change. She goes to ask what’s wrong, but then a car door slams nearby and boots crunch on leaves and she nearly shrivels up and dies from embarrassment.
“What in the actual fuck is wrong with you two!?”
Alder doesn’t respond. His lip curls in annoyance as he glances between where she’s still speared on his cock and the man who interrupted them.
She recognizes the voice easily enough and so she doesn’t bother looking over her shoulder at him. Really she doesn’t think she’d be able to look him in the eyes. She swallows, cringing hard as her voice cracks on her next set of words. “Frank. Hey.”
“You come alone?” Adler bucks up—hard—and she struggles to stifle a whine.
“What’s it look like? I didn’t tell anyone that I couldn’t find you two this morning. Figured you were together....” He shifts on his feet, moving the dirt underfoot as he does so. “Can you two...I dunno, get decent or something? Fuck, I didn’t need to see your ass, Bell. Fucks sake.”
She squeaks out a “sorry,” and Adler laughs breathlessly. Still moving his hips slightly.
Adler tugs her into his rolling thrusts. A smile evident in his voice. “We’ll be done in a sec, Woods. Get back in the van and just...look the other way. Turn on some music—“
“God, I should shoot you both. Jesus.” But from the sound of it he follows Adler’s advice. The van he drove in opens back up and slams shut. Sounding terribly loud in the otherwise quiet of the forest. She also thinks she hears the muted tune of the radio playing, but she can’t be sure past the blood rushing to her ears.
Adler huffs into her hair, giving her one last squeeze around her middle before he starts back up again at full speed. It only takes a few seconds for him to get back to where he had been before they were interrupted. Then he has no choice but to pull out and give his cock a few last pumps until he shoots his load across her stomach where it drips down her mound and gets caught in her wiry pubic hair.
That’s going to be a bitch to get out when it dries. She sighs, she’ll be better off scrubbing down and shaving.
Adler kisses her lips. One last parting goodbye of sorts. “Let’s go, before he comes out here and makes good on that promise to shoot us.”
“He wouldn’t.”
He pushes her off and stands. Gathering up her clothes to toss her way. “You didn’t see the look on his face. Now c’mon.” He grabs her bicep and forces her onto her feet, not giving her a chance to protest. She steps into her panties and barely has time to clip her bra before Adler is shoving her into the back of the van. Taking the passenger seat for himself. He’s working on tucking himself back in and doing his belt up.
Frank grimaces, lip curling up when he glances at Russell. Then he looks in the rear view, groaning out of displeasure when he catches sight of her.
“Put your clothes on, Bell.”
Adler laughs at her red cheeks. Already lighting up a cigarette. Not bothering to roll the window down, they’re all used to the smoke anyway.
“Don’t be rude, she’s got great tits.”
Bell chokes on her spit. Clutching her shirt to her chest to hide herself the best she can. “Since when have you been so crass?” She hisses, withering under his amused stare when he turns to look back at her. His eyes flick down to her breasts cupped in her bra when she goes to put on her shirt, humming his approval.
“You guys are gonna regret doing what you just did—what if you’re on the same team for some mission? Is that just water under the bridge?”
“No...no, we’ll probably do it again.”
Frank takes one of his hands off the wheel and punches Russell’s arm too hard to be playful. “Knock it off! Christ, now we’re supposed to go to a debriefing with our superiors, with you two sitting next to me, and act like I didn’t just see you guys fucking like jack rabbits.” He rubs at his eyes and now Bell feels genuinely sorry for the guy. That would be she would, if not for the smirk Adler has, looking for the first time like he’s having fun messing around with them.
It makes her heart jump in her chest.
“Put your pants on,” Woods mutters, and it takes her a second to realize he’s talking to her. Though he doesn’t look in the rear view mirror again. “What are we saying to the rest of the crew?”
Adler blows out smoke through his nose. Reminding her of a dragon from a children’s book she may or may not have actually read. “ You’re not going to say a thing. Just go inside and eat breakfast or whatever. You too, Bell.”
She hates the idea of that. Him talking to the others without her nearby to hear it. He’ll be able to voice his true intentions then, and it very well could be the opposite of what he’s been telling her.
She swallows, her throat clicking with the sudden dryness of her mouth. “Adler…”
“You need to trust me, kid.” He looks out the window. A crease in his brow. “Someday soon, for your own good.”
It sounds like a threat, one he tries to turn flowery and sweet in the presence of another. Not like it matters—she takes the advice to heart and scurries back to her room once they pull up in front of the safehouse. She keeps her head down and ignores the questions thrown her way. Perhaps foolishly, she lets Adler deal with it, because as much as it pains her to admit. He’s right. She has to trust someone. So why not him?