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The Courier Six was known by many names. There was one for each of the many roles she played throughout the dusty Mojave.
She was foremost the courier, along with a fate changer, martyr, savior, executioner, and the fool. In many cases she felt more a fool than anyone’s savior, even as they praised her endlessly for conquering the blistering desert and saving New Vegas in the name of House.
She wasn't proud of it. However much she "saved" New Vegas in the end, her failures and misdeeds—known by the public or not—haunted her dreams and kept her constantly searching shadows for her now long-dead enemies.
In the time after the war for Hoover Dam and Mr. House’s official takeover of the strip, she’d had more time to digest the fragmented memories she had from before the shot. She’d been a big name courier, trusted, driven, righteous, and not too much different than she was now fundamentally. Though even she had to admit to being a bit more eccentric and instinctual than she’d ever been before the shot, always ready to act with little inhibition.
She supposed she had Benny to thank for that.
It was no wonder she’d been hired and chosen to be the true carrier of the platinum chip. Mr. House had eyes that well extended the stretch of desert around New Vegas. He’d carefully chosen her to deliver his chip, and she’d become that and more as the events of her life in the Mojave and molded her into his perfect left and right hands. His avatar.
The right hand she became was a symbol of justice and peace. Her face a promise to those that entered Vegas that someone cared about them and their way of life, that House was not an ambivalent leader. There was a heart in the machine, one that was working to solve problems and make things better in the now with long term solutions.
The other hand was that of his arbiter and executioner, the ruthlessly faithful lieutenant that would slaughter entire organizations for him without blinking. Or so they thought. That part of her was only discussed in secret and in rumor, but the mystique still existed. And the truth made her mind heavy with doubts and worries, and her endless attempts at atonement.
Those thoughts were what had her sulking at the Top’s bar with a glass of Cassie’s favorite—whiskey. Behind her, ED-E beeped and burred a little as it surveyed the room for threats. However, in the heart of Vegas there was little that would dare even look her way with malice, let alone act to harm her.
Her reputation was most honestly represented amongst the mummers of the New California Republic soldiers. She was the angel that swooped in to save the NCR from the vastly more motivated and tactically gifted Legionaries. At the same time the camps whispered about the troops that had been felled by plasma rounds just outside the Hoover operating center.
Everyone knew the Legion didn’t use plasma weapons, but no one wanted to acknowledge that their dear Courier Six, the beautiful and mercilessly helpful savior, was well known for the various plasma weapons she kept. Their once shining star now a fallen hero, barely trusted and openly feared.
That was now her experience all across the Wastes. There was always a tinge of apprehension in the gazes of the wanderers that crossed her path.
They were afraid of the cold placid world she’d let live by siding with Mr. House during the war, and by her power. Though she supposed no matter what path she took, they would have been afraid of her connections or the hot end of one of her pistols. Probably both. At least with her reputation most people didn’t fear her retribution in the form of violence.
For many of them, she doubted it was she they really feared at all. Rather, they worried about the consequences they’d face from Mr. House if he perceived a slight on her. Though she knew well that House was too busy with himself and running his empire to watch her stalking the strip, it didn’t stop them from fretting.
“Howdy there Six, it seems like you’re out rather late this evenin’.”
She sighed.
No, no that wasn’t true at all. Mr. House did care, in his own way. He already had one of his bots dedicated to following after her and ensuring she kept in relatively good health or tracking her would likely take up more of his daily processing power. That was Victor. Not decommissioned, or wiped to become another smiling drone, he was her baby sitter.
A baby sitter with grenade launchers that could smite a deathclaw with a single boom.
“Good evening, Victor.” She smiled at him. She’d heard his machinery whirring well before he’d rolled up beside her.
“Hey now, that doesn’t sound like you’re having too good a time. Would you like me to escort you back to the Lucky 38? Looks like it’s been a long evening, nothing's better after a good night out than your own bed, I say.”
She didn’t bother to answer him. Her eyes fell on the bar keep, who had been trying not to look over at the securitron. She swirled the contents of her glass, which was now mostly water from the melted ice, and he nodded.
“For the road, doll? No problem. I’ll put this one on your tab—better yet why not put it on Benny’s, ya.” He winked.
At that, she almost laughed but refrained. Nonetheless, she tossed the man a few extra caps for his trouble. This Chairman was often around on the week nights she stopped by to mope for a bit before Mr. House would call her back to his dusty coffin casino. It was where he would play something like a concerned father, and tell her to get her nose out of the bottle.
She thought he’d leave her alone now that he had his robots and no obvious use for her, but she was wrong. While he seemed distant, cold, and like he had everything in the world he could want, secretly Mr. House desired real company and had little of it.
The Chairman manning the bar had filled her glass and soon she was following Victor back home. Cassidy had been right when she called it a gilded cage, but it was now more than that. Lucky 38 was her home base, a tree, a nest, and a coop all in one.
She craved that nest more often than not now, especially as the world around her became more and more unnatural and stiff. Long gone now were the wild days of wandering the desert and her heart in part yearned for them. The other part of her knew she’d earned her spot, her luxury and her reputation were all of her own making. They both knew that at any time she could take her rifle and hit the road, and House would just have to deal with that—though he’d never be able to replace her.
And she’d feel too guilty to leave.
With a huff, she decided then and there that tonight she was going to take a long bath.
She made her way to the President Suit after saying good night to her handler, and the monitor in the lobby flickered with Mr. House’s face. Obviously all her companions were also out, or he’d never have shown his face on this console.
Despite it all, she couldn’t say she hated Mr. House. She’s been let into his inner sanctum, seen his withered body preserved for 200 years, heard about his hopes and dreams. She knew about his loves and his losses, and the deep hurt he’d felt when his pre-war plans hadn’t worked out to his ultimate design.
He was more than a cool hardened leader, ready to do what others weren’t. Under that mechanical mask was a real man—albeit an extremely driven and pragmatic one.
Honestly, she was a bit worried another sweet talking girl-bot would show up with her personality uploaded into it. Though, he seemed tasteful enough to wait until after she died to release the machine.
“Have you had a pleasant evening, Robert?” She asked him. He’d insisted on her regarding him with some familiarity now they were in peace times.
“Fine enough,” He spoke quickly. “There was actually a favor I needed to ask of you.”
Her heart stopped for a moment, even as she forced herself to smile. What would it be? Left or right? Which hand would end up stained by tomorrow?
“Anything for you,” she said, “you know that. What do you need?”
“I need you to talk to Benny, and not just about your shared bar tab.”
The smile relaxes a little more. “I’ve never planned on having that discussion with him anyway.”
“That’s your business, on to mine. Several days ago now I sent over a contract to the Tops for our dear friend’s consideration, however, I haven’t heard word from him since. Unfortunately, I need to see his signature on the paper, or to find out what terms need to be renegotiated to get it so that we can move forward with the New Vegas Expansion Initiative.”
Right side then.
It’s easy to smile now. “No problem, I’ll be sure to stop by tomorrow and look into it.”
“Good. Have a pleasant rest of your evening, Ms. Six.”
“And you, Mr. House.”
The terminal flickered back to the normal console screen options and she started running the water. Broc flowers and other old-world perfume scents filled the room as she soaked herself. Despite all her worries and regrets, she’d gotten everything she’d wanted.
She had found a home in the safety of a protected stable New Vegas. She’d helped improve near every corner of the Mojave (except the places Mr. House had deemed unworthy of survival.) She’d secured her fortune and a future when she should have been dead.
But there was an itching in her soul for more. That much she couldn’t deny. The luxury provided by Mr. House was a just reward for her service, but it just wasn’t enough…
She needed a goal. A new life purpose. She would just have to figure out what that could be..
…
This was not the sight she’d expected, strolling into Benny’s personal quarters in the Tops. But maybe she should have.
She knells down beside him, and he weakly looks up her way and smirks. It’s that classic Benny smirk--like he just can’t help himself from making that face. Even when he looks clammy and is bent over himself in the bathroom, obviously in trouble. He can’t totally hide the sheepish embarrassment he probably feels getting caught looking like this.
She can’t help but wonder just how many days he’s been like this.
“Hey baby doll, what did Benny boy do to see your pretty face this morning.” The compliment was less sweet when it was given by a man who hung off his toilet and looked like he hadn’t changed his clothes in a week.
“Really Benny, I didn’t spare you so you could lose yourself on benders every other week. You have business to conduct.”
“ ‘s not like that, doll face, really.” He skewed up his face and looked a little more green than he usually did when he was coming off a jet binge.
Her look was stern and his gaze dropped back to the filthy toilet bowl.
“You’re pushin’ me real hard here, a man’s got his pride. If you gotta know I ate something out of this world, you dig, but maybe it should have stayed there.”
“Benny…” She bit back a laugh. From her bag she pulled out a bottle of clarified water, knowing that this little errand was going to take longer than she thought. “Let’s get you cleaned up then.”
“Stop lookin’ at me like that.”
“What? Like I’m baffled by how one of the most powerful men in New Vegas nearly killed himself eating 200 year old mush instead of just ordering out from the Gourmoud, or better yet, eating from his own casino?”
“No pussycat, cool your jets. I was thinkin’ that you’re in a rush to get me out of my pants, is all.” His confidence was hard to accept when he was struggling to get to his feet and lean on her shoulder. “If I didn’t know better I would think you were tryin’ to put the moves on me, baby. If you wanted in on my action all you had to do was ask. Could’ve had you nice and taken care of a long time ago.”
She scoffed, he laughed.
“Just call it like I see it, baby.”
“Then you aren’t seeing straight. And your nose may be on the fritz too if you can’t tell you smell worse than a night stalker carcass.”
“Giving me an ear full of compliments today, huh sweet stuff?”
He talked a big game, but his body was fatigued and compliant as he allowed her to strip him down to his boxers. She maneuvers around the crumbled towels and bottles to turn the water in the tub on. Using a nearby (semi-clean) wash cloth to methodically wipe him down, getting the days’ worth of grime off him as best she could without shoving him in the shower.
Taking care of him felt a little odd. While this was the monster she’d hunted down for shooting her in the head, he was also a man. Sick and vulnerable too, at least for the moment.
Plus, if he died then Mr. House wouldn’t get the signatures he needed and she’d have to deal with Swank instead. And Swank was… well… not the best choice for a business partner.
Benny’s mouth scrunched up as she took the cloth to his face, and he muttered something she couldn’t really make out. She might have been a little rough, just for the sake of it. But by the looks of it, he should have asked for help a few days ago.
The scene reminded her of the day she’d rescued him from the legion after arming the securitrons. The legionnaires hadn’t killed him, no, that was an honor they’d left for her as a show of good faith and as a gift. But they had beaten him and left him in the elements of the Mojave, letting dehydration and starvation do their own damage.
She could not lie. Not even as she cleaned that same man, with the intimacy of a friend. She’d thought about killing him.
On her way to Cottonwood Cove she’d fantasized about what they might have done to him, and fresh from the Brotherhood of Steel bunker destruction incident her mind had been scattered and frantic.
She'd killed before, but only ever in self-defense. Well, until then. It was easy to justify before the task was done.
If the chip is out of reach, then we need to spend our resources arranging our allies until that pitiful Legion makes its next move. That’s what Mr. House said anyway. The Brotherhood will only stand in the way of progress, both militarily and technologically. They are a dead order anyway. It’s a mercy to kill them now, before they’re stomped out by the slow grinding of time.
Hearing the sudden screams of terror and smelling the disgusting waft of smoke that came out of the bunker vents, the Courier learned that siding with House meant committing sins that likely wouldn’t make her unfit to stand in the Legion as an officer, even as a woman.
Walking away from the Brotherhood, the people she'd made friends with and nearly joined ranks with, changed her. Even though not a drop of blood stained her hands like it had before when she fought raiders of powder gangers, she felt dirty.
Now, she was an honest to god murderer. A mass murderer.
And yet, she'd done it.
It wasn't as easy to process as she'd thought it would be when she'd taken on the mission. But with the war coming to a head soon, she didn’t get much time to think about it. She had to be swift. Secure the bunter, then answer the summons from Caesar. ASAP.
The walk to meet the cult and their leader allowed her mind to wander, and she filled her mind with gruesome images. ED-E buzzing behind her was the only thing that kept her mind on the mission at hand. Honestly, she'd been nearly delirious the entire time.
In the little sleep she got, she dreamed of brutally killing Benny. Of finally tasting the revenge that had slipped through her fingers back at the Tops. It was what had fueled her steps through the scorching stretches of wasteland and gave her the bravery to step foot onto Legion land.
Yet, when she saw him, the anger that pulsed in the wound on her forehead fizzled away.
She could barely recognize him as Benny, the checkered monster of her nightmares. The suave motherfucker, whose smooth jiving voice would have been the last she’d heard had he been a better shot, was broken before her. He looked up when she walked in the tent, catching her gaze. She’d noticed and had been fascinated by the whiskey brown color of his eyes when they’d finally met as equals at the Tops.
At that moment his eyes were so dark they looked nearly black.
Suddenly her senses returned to her. While it would haunt her, the culling of the Brotherhood had been business. That was the cost of working with House, and she’d do her damnedest to stop something like that from happening again.
But this… she could do something about this.
Later, she’d use the drive found in that moment to do more than just save Benny. She’d convince House that improving Freeside would improve business, helping the Kings with House's investment, and assisting the Followers with fixing up Freeside’s infrastructure.
But for her first act, she decided she would not let Benny die in this cesspit of slavers.
While she weaved through the old Lucky 38 bunker, shutting down the hostile robots at the nearby terminals, she planned out how she was going to assassinate each and every member of the Legion who dared to cross her path once she reemerged. She’d managed to keep her plasma pistol from the eyes of the guard at the front gate, and if she was smart about it, that was really all she needed to take care of the people she’d encounter in the quarter full camp without raising suspicion.
When she’d made it back to the center tent. Ceaser had held back his fuming generals from attacking, asking what she wanted from them. The man had also looked old and almost feeble in that moment, but his voice was strong.
“Take what you want, woman, and leave.”
Her blood boiled when she shot back, “I’ll have your head, Caesar.”
Behind him a general literally growled, and a word even half shaped like ‘yes’ spoken to his second in command would have him searing a mountain in half with his contained fury.
“Meet me in fair parley on the battlefield of the Dam." Caesar offered instead. "Then we’ll see whose cause is truly supreme.”
She thought for a moment and ticked her chin toward Benny. “I’m taking him, and none of your skirt wearing fucks better tail us. If I see any of you in the next 48 hours, I'm coming right back here, and I'll fill your head with so much plasma the sun’ll be scared to rise.”
“We’ll see if you’ve the fortitude to put action behind your threats.” And yet, Ceasar agreed. “Take him. And now my wrath will be thirty fold when the time for battle comes.”
A legionnaire to the right of cuts Benny loose and dragged him to his feet. Benny didn’t need any more encouragement to get his ass in gear and to her side, and they’d walked out facing the roman imposters before the tent flapped closed and they pair were off to a nearby NCR safe house that they’d stay at long enough to get Benny’s body ready for the longer trek back to New Vegas.
“Didn’t know you had such a mouth on you.” He’d said as soon as they were across the water.
His voice was hoarse, her heart felt tight at the choppiness in his tone. But he was alive, and he still had a little fire in him.
She let out a tight huff as the memory faded.
Her hand stilling, her mind still all the way across the Mojave, in those dank days fending off creatures and keeping watch for the Legion while Benny recovered. It was a strange way to fall in love, but she had. Hard.
She’d locked those feelings up, in a dark secret part of her heart. It was wrong. He’d almost killed her. She’d have done worse. She didn’t deserve love anymore.
“Doll, that thousand yard stare’s making me feel real lonely here.”
Her eyes snapped back to his.
There they were, bright, playful, sparkling with honey and whiskey hues like they should be. Their faces had gotten closer, he’d leaned forward and their noses were nearly touching, but she could see the weariness on him.
He needed to sleep the rest of his stomach sickness off, she thought. Then he’d be back on his feet making trouble on the strip again, like he was supposed to be doing.
She sighs. “You know, I hope you thank your lucky stars every day that your bullets didn’t take. After all, what would you do without me, hum? Maybe you’d be the one dead in a ditch.”
That wasn’t the only time she’d saved him. Since then she always seemed to stumble onto him in trouble. She chewed her lip, it was strange thinking about how many times he’d been at the receiving end of her mercy.
“You better not be thinking about that fuck, Ceasar, or his crew of piss-pots.”
The fact that he didn’t bother to address what she’d actually said and her nearly huffing again. He could always read her like a book.
“Him and his gang got their tails between their legs and are holed-up back East like the losers they are. And you know why they skedaddled? Because when push comes to shove their ain’t no one as fierce as you, doll. Not a single person in this whole goddamn wasteland even comes close.”
She flushed, but didn’t look away, “Now look who’s all compliments.”
“Say that like I don’t always talk sweet to you.”
“Sure Ben, whatever you say.”
She dismissed him with an eye roll and his gaze burned with a predatory look she didn’t quite notice as she pulled back and put the wash cloth down. Now he looked (and smelled) much better.
“Anyway,” she adds, “if you can talk this much then you must be feeling better. You should get yourself dressed and then we can discuss business like adults. After all, I didn’t just come by to babysit you. Mr. House is concerned about a contract that you—hmph!”
She was cut off by the force of his mouth on hers and her own shock. He must have just been moping while he sat against the toilet because his mouth didn’t taste of bile like she’d expected. Instead it was just sharp like a stiff shot of vodka. He was a fierce kisser, as direct and forceful as he was doing anything else, and in this moment she was his conquest.
A thousand thoughts flitted through her head, more difficult to focus on as she gasped for breath and felt his hands grab her waist. He was pulling her down to the floor with him, setting him on his clothed lap as he sucked and nipped at her lips.
When they pulled away panting the first time a part of her wanted to slap him. But instead her hands rose up to cup his cheeks, dusted with stubble, and run her fingers through his mused hair. His eyes fluttered closed, his check pressing into her palm like he was relieved.
“Baby, only so many times you can brush me off like that before I start taking it personal, you dig.” He sighed, “But if you tell me to fuck off, then I’ll scram. No mess, no scruff.”
“This is your room Benny, if anything you should tell me to move along if you aren’t actually interested.”
“Not interested? Maybe I did blow out your brains, pussycat.” Before she could chide him he bucked his hips to meet hers. His hard length, straining against his slacks, brushed her core and her entire body ached for him. Her whisper of a moan—a pitiful whimper—echoed off the bathroom tiles. “How’s that for not interested?”
He didn’t give her time to answer, as his mouth was busy sucking on her bottom lip pulling her back into a fervent kiss. “How ‘bout it, huh?”
She hadn't the mind to answer him just yet.
His hands roamed up her body, one staying to feel up her breasts over her shirt, and the other laced up her neck and brought them forehead to forehead. He forced them to share air, to stare deep into one another’s eyes before he began grinding into her again. She was grinding back into him, totally lost in his gaze and the heat of his body beneath hers. Her hands splayed across his bare chest.
“Convinced, sweet stuff?” His breath is hot on her ear, “I shoulda been putting my cock in your mouth instead of my Glock. Thought that even as I shot ya.”
She laughed at him in a breathy way. How quickly the old daydreams of slitting his throat came back.
But those fantasies were outweighed by a rush of raw desire. Now what she really wanted was to be splayed beneath him legs locked behind his back feeling his muscled tense as he fucked her. Wanted to feel his weight over her and his dick pulse inside of her. She wanted him to impale her, and ride them both to a pleasurable crest. What would she look like if his seed stuck, if this was more than a one night fling, if maybe—
“Care to take this shin-dig to the bed, doll?”
“Yes, please.”
“Like music to my ears.”
He grabbed her ass, and he pulled them both up in a smooth motion. She wrapped herself tightly around him as he refused to let her slip down to her own feet. “Benny, I thought you weren’t feeling well.”
“Don’t matter. Right now I feel like flying to the moon and back.”
He tossed her onto his rickety king sized bed and fit himself back over her. A knee between her legs had her spreading for him and he slot himself right next to her core, ready to continue his merciless grinding while she struggled not to mew his name and moan too wantonly.
She was embarrassed by how flustered she’d become, by how much she wanted to beg him for more. She couldn’t hold back the words under the harsh push of his body against hers, not after she’d spent so long secretly wanting him.
“Come on now, baby girl, can’t give you nothing if you don’t tell me what you want.”
“Please! Please, please, stop teasing me!” She finally pleads. “I’ve wanted you to touch me up since I heard your voice that day.”
“Ah, you like my voice that much, doll?”
“Yes!” She moaned, and he hadn’t paused his insistent grinding.
“Have you been busy touching this pussy, thinking about my voice?”
“I…” her face felt as hot as a sunburn, “I have.”
“How ‘bout this, doll. Why don’t you show me how much you like my voice, huh. Let me think about all those times I got you hot and bothered with a word.”
“B-Benny…”
“That’s it, that’s it, baby.”
He lowered himself over her, dragging one of her legs up by the hitch of his elbow so his covered rod could tease her even more. His teeth graze at her sensitive neck, and she could die at all the whimpers and moans he’s forcing out of her. Now, she can feel every vibration of his groans and the wispy feeling of his breathy huff, he must have known it was driving her wild.
Her fingers tighten around his shoulders leaving crescent shaped imprints of her nails when the pleasure starts to build in her core. When his words make her whole body throb for him. Fingers claw at his chest as he whispers more filthy things into the shell of her ear and lets his moans rattle her mind. Their movements frantic, somehow too much and not nearly enough.
Tears pricked her eyes, “I can’t take it anymore, Ben, fuck please.”
“Please what, baby, don’t leave me hanging.”
“I need you to fuck me, Ben. Ram me into the mattress, push my face into the pillows, fuck me against the fucking wall, anything!”
“As good as that sounds, I’m not pulling back the gas until my voice is the only thing left in that pretty head of yours. We can make that happen, right baby?”
“But B-Ben…” Her hips buck involuntarily.
“That’s right,” now he’s almost purring with satisfaction, “ain’t nobody else feeling up this rockin’ bod cause you’ve been mine all along. Only mine.”
“Only yours!” She echoes in a haze of lust. His hand raises from her breast to her forehead, fingers coiling in her hair to expose more of her neck to his mouth.
“Marked you for the whole god damn world to see, didn’t I. No, I’m full throttle sweetness and I don’t do shit half way.” His thumb rubbed across her scar and a sinfully pleasured noise escaped her. “You like that, like knowin’ each ratfink in the world looks at you and knows The Top of the Tops was here.”
“OH, Benny!” She was reaching the edge faster now.
“That’s it, put on that special show for me, huh.” He presses his lips to her year for a kiss, then in a commanding groan he says it. “Come on, cum for me.”
Her eyes roll back into her head, his groan in her ear making her body thrum even harder. His delicious voice filled with praise while her body tightened and spasmed beneath him. They were both panting as the rush of her orgasm passed but the fever for him hadn’t yet left. Their next kiss was rougher and full of nashing teeth and his desperate sucking on her tongue when she pulled away for a moment to breathe.
She didn’t even know she liked that.
“Is my girl still hungry for the main dish?”
My girl. She keens. “Ben, do I have to keep begging?”
His responding chuckle was dark, “Nah baby, not today.”
“That better be true. If you don’t take me now, I’ll walk out of here and find someone who can. Maybe Swank will…”
Her tease was cut off by his hands pressing her hips into his hard cock. “No way you’re getting out of this baby, ain’t no way. ‘Specially not for that punk.”
Their hands began fumbling with his belt and pants and it was easy to slip off the pre-war dress she’d thrown on before heading out to meet him this morning, and in second they were both naked.
She rolled her hips so that his cock twitched against her wet pussy, ready and waiting for him to make his words reality. His hand snaked between them and a long hiss slipped from between his teeth as his head popped into her.
Each inch sunk in slowly, controlled, like he was savoring the moment. Benny was a connoisseur of all kinds of worldly desires, but what he loved most was winning and being in control. If the look on his face meant anything, he looked like he’d reached the pinnacle of both. The self-satisfied smirk on his face made her core throb and her walls tightened suddenly around him as he let out a groan.
His hand rose and slapped her thigh with a solid wap and she squealed below him. She throbbed again and his hips bucked in reflex, a long moan fell from her throat and she was seconds from really starting to beg. Spurned on, he slapped her on the other side, his right palm against the reddening skin with his left moved to splay across her stomach.
The pressure made her toes curl and she rolled her hips against him, the closest thing to a beg she couldn’t open her mouth to give.
“You have some damn fine charlies.” He commented, “Damn fine.”
“Pl-please-!” It’s almost a sob she’s so wound up and he has the nerve to laugh at her.
“I got one rule, girly, you only finish when I say the word.” She nods but he tsks his tongue. “Gotta talk to me, doll.”
“Yes, yes Benny. I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”
“Ah you sure know how to swing, baby.” His cocky grin falls away as his hips snap.
He stops talking, but she can’t seem to mind as he’s finally in her. The pace was brutal. Her nails dig into his biceps as he fills her with brutal precision, letting moans and groans fly from her mouth, and when he snapped his hips and his cock head dragged against that place her entire body unfurled under him.
She can’t control it, her whole body spasms as a real scream is replaced by gulping breaths and a feeling that makes her eyes roll back. She hears his strained grunts, and then he stills.
“Did you do what I think you just did?” His voice is threatening.
“No, no… I didn’t Ben I swear,” she shakes her head, “it just felt sooo good.”
As if a punishment he grabbed her hips and pulled himself out to the tip, slamming back into her in one quick move. “Baby, are you telling me—with all that squealing—you didn’t go over the edge?”
She shakes her head. He shifts his weight and uses one finger to push up her chin.
“Tryin’ to pull a fast one on me, sugar?” He shakes his head, “No one pulls one over on Benny Gecko.”
Now he’s rocking his hips slowly. She’s sensitive and the gentle stimulation after being pounded makes tears prick her eyes. She never thought it was possible he could make her feel this good, or she would have seduced him the first time they met when she’d confronted him about the chip.
A whimper is on her lips now as he methodically grinds into her. She’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, anybody who happened to be in this hallway knew exactly what had just happened. He’d taken her to rapture and back faster than she thought possible, and now he was testing her. The only thing she can do is look up at him sweetly, hoping he forgives her and fills her up with his seed the next time he plunges into her.
His finger rose to chase her jawline and cheek bones before he placed his palm against her face. Initially she pressed against it, soft I’m sorry Benny’s on her tongue. She thought he was going to slap her after a tense moment. But he didn’t. Instead he lowered his body and brought them nose to nose and picked up the pace of his hips.
Already a blubbering mess, his steady by sharp thrust—shallow but rutted deep within her—made her body squirm. And pleasure was already rebuilding in her core. Determined this time to be patient, to wait for him to tell her it was time to be undone. But he didn’t say a word, just watched her face, staring deep into her eyes while she drowns in pleasure.
Then he speaks.
“Talking shit about my aim.” He huffs. “I’m going to stuff ya so much, you’ll know my seed took in you.”
And that is exactly what she wanted, what she’s always wanted, she thinks while his words make her whole body burn. Something new to dedicate herself too. In the moment it sounds like the perfect idea, one she might later waffle on (until realizing it’s much too late.)
“Please let me cum, Ben, please!”
He doesn’t even hesitate. “No.”
She groans, back arching back as she desperately tries to ride the tsunami of pleasure without cresting. A long whining beg leaves her throat, met by another denial.
Distantly, she wonders how he can hang on so long but there are other things capturing her focus. Like the way he’s moved his head down to bury his nose in her neck, and the weight of his body pressing her into the bed. His lips, his teeth…
“I need you so bad, Benny. Please cum in me, fill me up. Make me yours, mark me deep.”
She can feel his lips curl into a smile at her neck, as he bites her one last time. Tears are streaming down her cheeks now, she’s over stimulated and hot, waiting for his answer while she teeters on the edge.
“So you want it bad, baby?”
Her answering ‘yes’ comes through her teeth like a hiss.
His pace has gone frantic, he’s nearing his end too, she just has to wait until he says the word. Finally, his mouth starts running again. Filthy words, his promise to breed her, his desire to fill her, to mark her, bang in her head as she waits for the permission she’s desperate for.
“You better cum with me. Now, doll, I ain’t kiddin’.” He demands. “Now!”
Together their sweaty bodies collide, warmth flooding her as he found his release in her quivering body. Her senses fade into a high buzzing as she comes down from the high, and he rolls over to lay beside her in the bed.
“There you are.” He mutters, forehead sheening with sweat.
The room is full of their shared breathing and the groans of sensitivity. She curls up beside him, hand splayed on his chest and his on her back after he fishes out a cigarette from the bedside table and lights it. The room reeks of tobacco and smoke, but in a way that smells like him.
If they have kids, she'll have to work on getting him to quit that little habit. But that was a trouble for another day.
“So,” and the smoke billows from the bobbing cig as he talks, “you said something about a contract?”