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put our service to the test

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"If you persist in doing this, I shall have to start letting down your hems," Jarvis said, from his place on the floor.

"What?" Peggy said, looking down at him in confusion. She had been paying absolutely no attention to him, or to much of anything. It had been a long day and a longer night; she felt tense and tired, to the point of distraction. As a bonus, she had another gash on her shin, and though it wasn't particularly deep, it stung quite a bit. At least she was staying in Howard's penthouse, rather than her apartment; her apartment was nice, but it was the kind of place where they would say something about her coming in dripping blood. Mrs. Fry wouldn't have had anything to say about Jarvis. Butler or not, she would have just chased him out with a broom.

"People who work for the telephone company do not injure their legs this often, except perhaps linemen," he pointed out, putting away the cloth he'd been using to clean her leg. "I hope you don't think me crude if I say that your legs draw quite a lot of attention."

Peggy sighed. "I know."

"If I may?" Jarvis said, pausing at the hem of her skirt.

"Why not?" she replied.

He flipped up the edge of her skirt, examining it critically. "This is quite subpar," he said, frowning. "There's barely any room between the bottom of the hem and the lining. I have no idea what they expect anyone to do with this little material."

"Do you suggest I start wearing trousers instead?" Peggy asked.

"And walk around with holes in them?" Jarvis said, looking deeply scandalized. "I suspect that would draw far more comment in general."

While the idea of wearing damaged trousers seemed to be highly objectionable, he was apparently quite comfortable insinuating his hand where it did not belong, sliding it up Peggy's leg as if she wouldn't notice.

"Jarvis, why is your hand on the inside of my thigh?" Peggy asked, in a warning tone.

"Would you like it somewhere else?" Jarvis said, unperturbed.

"Yes," she said tightly. "Anywhere."

He withdrew his hand, resting it on her calf instead. "I'm sorry if I startled you."

"'Startled' is not the word," she said, giving him a hard look.

"I don't want anything from you," Jarvis said, in a placating sort of tone; Peggy almost slapped him for it.

"I know exactly what men who put their hands between my thighs want from me," Peggy said.

"It isn't like that at all," he said. When she went to stand, Jarvis put a hand on her knee to stop her- thankfully outside of her skirt this time. "Would you permit me a moment to explain?"

"You had better make it good," Peggy told him.

"Perhaps Mister Stark was not thorough in explaining what I do," Jarvis said, pausing before he added, "as there was so little time." Peggy knew exactly what he meant by that; Howard's mind could jump from place to place, and he wasn't always good at making sure people followed him.

"He said you would help me in any way you could," Peggy said.

"Well, that was rather ambiguous, wasn't it?" Jarvis said consideringly.

"Apparently," Peggy replied.

"Although Mister Stark is less apt to make a distinction between himself and his employees than some others of his stature, I am not under any delusion regarding the fact that I am his servant," Jarvis said, more bluntly than Peggy would have expected. "I have no problem with this arrangement. Some people are servants because of circumstance. I serve because it is my purpose in life."

"I'm very happy you've found your calling," Peggy said, unamused. "Unfortunately, that has nothing to do with you putting your hand up my skirt."

"It decidedly does," he said. "Servitude does not end at arranging the operation of Mister Stark's household." He looked into her eyes, his gaze intense. "I serve women. I do absolutely everything they require of me. Pleasing them is my highest aspiration."

"And that's why Howard sent you?" Peggy asked, trying to ignore the tingle she felt.

"Well, they have a word for it when that's all someone employs you to do," Jarvis said dryly. "However, Mister Stark gave me specific instructions, to-" He coughed. "'Take care of my girl, huh?'" he said, in a credible imitation of Howard's voice. "'Anything- and I mean anything- she needs.'"

Despite herself, Peggy laughed. "This is what Howard thinks I need?" he said, and Jarvis raised an eyebrow. She sighed. "Why am I even asking? He thinks everyone needs it three times a day."

"You are a very capable agent, Miss Carter, and you can easily handle yourself in a multitude of situations," Jarvis said. "Please believe me when I say I'm not suggesting this because you require it to function. I am merely offering it because I believe you would enjoy some-" He paused. "Stress relief, and I am very happy to provide."

"I thought you said this wasn't for you," Peggy said, giving him a look.

"I said I didn't want anything from you," he told her. "I never said I wouldn't be enjoying it."

Peggy was aware that her resolve was slipping, as much as she tried to fight it. It sounded extremely tempting, someone who was willing to satisfy her without demanding anything, who wanted nothing more than to please her. Perhaps even more importantly, he'd already been sucked into her life; as much as she tried, he was unwilling to leave the blast radius, and she doubted this would change anything.

And it had been such a long time.

"What does your wife think?" she asked, because there most definitely was a line. She'd made mistakes before, but she wouldn't make one with a married man.

"My wife, Miss Carter, is a very exacting woman," Jarvis said, and there was a look on his face she expected never to see there. She'd pictured him as sort of bland, sexless, but he had a smirk on him that she could feel all the way down to her toes. "I satisfy her in every respect, to the absolute end of my ability. If she did not approve of this, it would not be taking place." He gave her a look that said very clearly that he could see right through her, and Peggy suddenly felt hot all over. "Would you like to remove your skirt?"

She already knew good and well that she was going to do it, but still she hesitated. Finally she stood up; when she didn't walk away, Jarvis took it as his cue to undo the snap on her waistband and zip down her skirt. She hated this skirt, the way she had to wiggle into it, but Jarvis had it off in a moment, her slip with it.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked, suddenly nervous.

"I was planning on using my mouth," he said. "If that's agreeable."

"That is very much agreeable," Peggy said, sitting back down again. If he kept looking at her like that, her knees were going to give out, so being seated was definitely preferable.

"Excellent," Jarvis said, already easing her knickers down her legs and setting them aside. This time when he ran his hand up her thigh, she let them fall open, giving him full access. He stopped short, his fingertips nearly brushing the patch of hair between her legs, tantalizingly close. "May I?"

Peggy looked down at him, but while he was focused intently on her, he was not looking anywhere near her face. She almost wanted to laugh, but she wanted so much more for him to get on with it. "By all means."

She expected delicacy, perhaps a sense that he was doing this out of obligation; that was so far from what happened that she wondered why she'd thought it at all. Quite frankly, he dove in, pushing her legs wider and putting his mouth on her immediately, like he'd just been waiting to strike.

Peggy had been largely convinced that this was the sort of thing men did because it would get them places with women, not because they enjoyed it for its own sake. Jarvis was very rapidly changing her views on that subject. He did it with a single-minded passion, like there was nothing else in the world but her, nothing that could possibly be more important. He did want to please her exactly as much as he'd said; she hadn't believed him at the time, but she certainly bought it now.

He hooked his arms around the backs of her thighs and pulled her forward, sharply enough that she fell back, catching herself on her hands. Jarvis didn't miss a step, just kept going, not wavering from his task for an instant, until it was almost too much to bear. She reached out, putting her hand on the back of his head, not sure whether she wanted to stop him or beg for more. He moaned loudly, moving his tongue faster, like the motion was incredibly arousing; startled, she grabbed onto his hair, needing an anchor suddenly. It was and wasn't the right thing to do, because that seemed to make him even hotter, which only made him work harder. Peggy thought she might die under the onslaught, but at the moment, it seemed like a perfectly fine way to go.

All at once, she was right there at the brink; she wanted so badly to come, but not if that meant it had to end. She needed so much more of this, as much as she could get. On the bright side, it seemed like he'd gladly give it to her.

"Don't stop," she panted. "Please don't stop. Don't ever stop."

Jarvis hummed in agreement, not taking his mouth away. She gripped his hair tighter, grinding herself against his face, and he only worked harder, pushing her on. When she came, she screamed so loudly that it shocked her; she'd never been vocal, but there seemed to be no other way to express how intensely good it felt.

Peggy let him go, smoothing down his hair; he slowed somewhat, giving her a much-needed respite, but true to his word, he didn't stop. He slid his fingers inside of her, one and then two, rocking them in and out slowly but steadily as he focused his mouth on her clit. It was an entirely different kind of pleasure than the first time, luxuriant, decadent, not at all hurried.

It was clear that he knew how to play a woman like an instrument, and right now, Peggy was happy to be played.

It built in her slowly, little by little, a mounting tension; it was as if he was drawing it out of her, pulling her towards the finish, closer and closer and closer by degrees. She needed it just as badly as she had before, wanted it just as much, craved it with everything in her. He moved just a little faster, sucked just a little harder, and there it was, washing over her, moving through her entire body. She arched her back, gasping; just when she thought it was over, there it was again, rippling through her, shaking her up, leaving her sated and exhausted, her legs trembling.

"That's enough," Peggy said breathlessly, and he finally sat back. She managed somehow sit up, looking down at him. He looked thoroughly mussed, his hair ruffled where she'd pulled it. He was handsome when put together, but taken apart was quite a good look on him as well.

He took a handkerchief out of his pocket, flicking it open. Peggy didn't miss how he licked his lips before wiping his chin, as if he wanted one more chance to savor her. She hoped he was serious about satisfying women. If at all possible, she was going to be very, very satisfied.

It was difficult to miss the fact that he was hard, the front of his trousers distended- and unless Peggy missed her guess, there was plenty to fill them out. "Do you-" Peggy said, letting it trail off; she wasn't quite sure what she was asking, but it only seemed polite.

"Regrettably, that is my wife's purview," he said, wincing as he shifted. "Mister Stark is not always the one whose zippers are under strain."

"If it's the sort of thing your wife wants to know," Peggy said impulsively, "then you can report that you did an extremely good job."

"She'll be pleased to hear it," Jarvis said, looking like she'd just given him a gift, and Peggy wondered about Mrs. Jarvis. Peggy suspected she might be a fascinating woman. "Will you be needing anything else, Miss Carter?"

"I don't think so," Peggy said; what she needed most was to sleep, and she could do that by herself. She eyed him. "I suspect you want to get home."

He sighed. "You have no idea."

"Then you may go," Peggy told him. "I'll be in contact tomorrow."

"Very good," Jarvis said, getting to his feet and picking up the supplies he'd used to tend to her leg; he was clearly trying very hard not to grimace, but it wasn't working. "Until tomorrow, Miss Carter."

"Jarvis," she said, inclining her head, and he left, closing the door behind him.

The moment the door closed, she let herself collapse onto the bed, letting out a loud sigh. Maybe there were some things Howard was right about. A little indulgence never killed anyone.