Fixation

Her heart was racing, its erratic beat pounding against her eardrums. Michael had told her that they had to move, and so they moved.

Those convicts were right behind them. Somewhere below the ceiling void. They had to move, but her feet felt like lead. Heavy. Dead.

Michael turned back, gesturing at her to hurry. His expression was calm, in complete contrast with how she was feeling at that moment. Her adrenaline pumped, giving her a rush as she scrambled forward, almost bent double in the tight space.

Then he suddenly stopped.

In her rush, she ran right smack into his back. “Umph!” she exclaimed, her hands going around him to stabilise herself. His masculine scent invaded her nostrils, reminding her that it had been some time since she had been in close physical contact with men.

He turned to her, wrapping on arm around her waist. Sara felt a shiver up her spine at the contact.

“You okay?” he asked, concerned.

She nodded, suddenly unable to speak. Her body suddenly felt hot, felt flushed. She was almost trembling with the overdose of stimulus. Everything all at once, fear, terror, panic, worry and strangely enough, arousal.

Michael gave her a small smile. “We’re almost there,” he reassured her.

Sara wondered how he managed to remain so calm after everything. There she was, panicking while Michael charged on as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Nothing seemed to ever faze the guy.

A sudden burst of irritation came over her.

She knew that it was irrational, but she wanted to do something. Just something to make him lose his cool.

Just once, she wanted to see a different side to him.

“We’ve got to go,” he informed her, turning away to lift up a ceiling tile.

Sara opened her mouth, but he had already dropped down through the opening. The irrational thought of being left behind assaulted her, increasing her level of terror.

“Sara!” his hushed voice reached her from below.

A rush of air left her lungs. He was still there, she thought in relief.

She moved to the edge and looked down to see him holding his arms out for her. Taking a deep breath, she swung her legs down the opening and pushed off, squeezing her eyes shut.

A pair of strong arms caught her, breaking her fall.

Sara opened her eyes to stare right into Michael’s hazel ones. She opened her mouth to thank him, but no words came out. His eyes flickered slightly, but that was all the reaction she received from him.

Her lips tightened.

A sound nearby reminded her of the situation they were in. Terror settled in again as she heard the shouts of the other convicts. They were close.

Too close.

Her eyes widened in fright. “Michael! They’ll get us!”

His eyes flicked to the right. Then, he grabbed her hand, pulling her along as he dashed to a nearby door.

Once she was in the room, he slammed the door shut, latching it quickly.

Sara heard him exhale loudly.

“We’re safe here. This used to be where they keep classified records. It’s secure,” he told her calmly.

Her breathing refused to slow down. Her heart was still thumping hard against her ribcage, and her chest heaved as she tried to slow down her breathing. She was safe, Sara told herself.

Her eyes scanned the room. Empty filing cabinets lined the wall, dusty from disused. The lamp had blown sometime in the past, and the only light in the room came from a very small metal grille up high on the wall. They were effectively locked in a solid box.

It was a close call. The energy was still buzzing through her, making her strangely restless.

But she felt alive. Much more alive than she had ever felt before. And she could not wind down. It was like her body suddenly decided that it wanted more.

Michael, she thought as she glanced at him.

He was leaning against the wall, watching her intently. There was some sort of animal magnetism which exuded from him. She could not put her finger on it. Was it the way he was standing, or was it because of the intense stare? Or was it the way he seemed to be in charge even though he was the prisoner there?

He could not possibly be like that all the time. Michael was human after all.

She wanted to crack it. Crack that façade.

With that thought, she took the three steps which separated them and fisted his grey shirt in her hands.

Then she looked up to find him looking down at her, his hazel eyes unblinking, but slightly wary. “Michael,” she whispered, her hands loosening to splay against his chest, feeling the heat of his body between the soft material.

“What are you doing, Sara?” he asked in a low voice, his eyes searching hers questioningly.

Yeah, what are you doing, she asked herself silently as her hand shifted upwards. This was not her. She could not do this just to prove a point. Or whatever her real motives might be.

But she was feeling reckless. Feeling like she wanted to do something. Anything.

He caught her hands before they could reach his neck, holding them to his chest.

“You’re not thinking right, Sara.” His voice was forced.

She tore her gaze away from him. “Hmm…” A small twinge of doubt prodded at her.She was coming on to him. Her mind told her she shouldn’t, while her body said otherwise.

But what does it matter? Blame it on the stress of the situation. Right now, she just needed something from him. Something to take the edge away. She needed release.

She moved closer, pressing her body against his.

A loud hiss expelled from his lips. He grasped her hand tightly, holding her at bay. “Sara. You’re not thinking clearly,” he gritted out urgently.

She turned her head up to him, watching his eyes flicker indecisively. His whole posture was rigid, as if he was struggling to control himself. Sara felt a rush of female satisfaction at being able to rattle that calm façade of his.

She gave him a feline smile as she extracted her hands from his grip. “I think I am.”

One step forward and she was pressed intimately against him, her hands running round to his back downwards towards his rear.

Frozen in place, he did not stop her.

Encouraged, she gave his firm ass a squeeze.

Michael groaned as she began to grind her hips against him. “You’re making it real hard for me to say no,” he rasped in a strangled voice.

Her smile widened as she felt the evidence of his arousal growing against her belly. It was a heady feeling, knowing that she was responsible for his current state.

She gave him an innocent look. “You want to say no?”

“I-” he started to say, and then stopped when her hand moved from his rear to the front.

Then she felt it through his pants. His prominent shaft. His body jerked as she pressed her palm against his growing hardness.

“Sara…” he growled out loud as she began to caress him though his pants. His fingers went up to the back of her neck to grab a handful of her hair.

She could feel herself responding to his arousal. Her body felt hot, she felt like she wanted to crawl out of her skin. Also, the dampness between her legs could not be ignored. She rubbed her thighs together, trying to relieve the pressure.

She wanted him.

And from the feel of it, he wanted her too.

His hands at the back of her neck tugged at her, forcing her to arch her head back to expose her neck. Those lips that she had always wanted to touch descended in a rush to suckle on her soft skin, making her sigh.

His teeth scraped her, making her shiver as he moved up until their lips met.

The first taste of him was electric. She moaned into his mouth as he sucked gently on her tongue. They nipped at each other, playing, testing. Getting to know their counterpart. Breathing in each other’s hot, shaky breath.

Then suddenly it was not enough. She wanted more. Her hands wandered up his shirt, her nails scraping his nipples. Her fingers tightened around the small buds, pinching them.

Michael hissed loudly, and then retaliated by capturing her breasts in his hands, roughly kneading them through her top, running his thumbs over the cotton-encased peaks. Sara could feel the piercing reaction of her body down to her toes, and she moaned in appreciation.

He pulled back suddenly, and she let of an exclamation of protest.

“Michael?”

His breath was ragged. “I need more,” he rasped as he reached for the hem of her top. With a hard yank, he pulled her top off and tossed it to the side. Her bra followed soon after.

Then he just stood there staring at her, letting his eyes run over her curves.

She would have normally felt self-conscious, but not this time, considering the way he was looking at her. The hunger in his eyes was more than apparent as he took in her naked top half.

With a rush, he cupped a naked rounded globe in one hand as he nipped at the other with his lips, making her gasp breathlessly. Sharp shots of arousal coursed through her, ending up at her aching core.

She could feel herself growing wetter by the second as he flicked his tongue across her nipples, making the nubs stick out proudly as if to ask for more. Throwing her head back, she arched back, giving him more access as he continued to lave at her hungrily.

Her control was slipping fast, and that was not what she wanted. She wanted him to lose it first. She wanted him to want her as much as she wanted him.

Her hands found its way to his pants. In a quick motion, he was unbuckled and unzipped. He groaned throatily, the sound vibrating erotically against her sensitive nipples as she shoved her hands inside his boxers.

“You like this?” she asked mischievously as she stroked him, feeling the soft silky skin move around his rigid shaft.

He thrust against her hand. “You’re killing me, Sara,” he groaned, his eyes burning into hers.

Smiling, she lowered herself to her knees.

He stared down at her disbelievingly. “Sara?”

“Hmm?” In one swift movement, she pulled down his pants and boxers to his knees.

Tightening her hands around him, Sara pulled down his skin and flicked the tip of her tongue across the glistening top, tasting him for the first time. His hips jerked at the touch and she gave his hard shaft another squeeze.

She looked up at him.

His head was thrown back, his mouth open as he groaned deeply.

Then she took him in fully, enveloping her lips around him.

He sucked in a sharp breath, and his hands went to her head, pulling her off him, forcing her to glance up at him.

“Sara… It’s too much.”

Ignoring him, she lowered her head and recaptured his length in her mouth, running her tongue back and forth across the ridge at the base. His hands tangled in her hair, clenching spasmodically as she bobbed up and down his hardened member. She could taste the salty tang of his precum on her tongue, and it aroused her further.

Sara let out a protest when she found herself being pulled up. Michael’s eyes were fevered when he looked at her. Then, inhaling deeply, he swooped down.

Their tongues tangled together in a sloppy, desperate kiss. The heat of the moment made it impossible for them to control themselves.

She felt a burning hot path along her sides as his hands travelled down to her pants. Unsnapping the waistband, he pushed the material down. Goosebumps exploded over her skin when his knuckles brushed down the length of her legs.

When her pants ended up in a heap by their side, he stood back, his heavy-lidded eyes raking her body with lust.

Breathing heavily, Sara pulled his hand towards her, her eyes not leaving his. Slowly, she guided his hand to her trimmed pubic region. His eyes darkened in excitement, mirroring her own anticipation, when she placed his fingers over the downy hair.

Her eyes fluttered shut as he began to move his fingers, brushing her clit lightly. Her own arms fell behind her, propping herself off the wall. Her legs shifted apart, allowing him to touch her freely.

“Look at me, Sara. I want to see your eyes,” he whispered urgently as he slid one finger inside her, touching her expertly.

She opened her eyes to stare right into his passion-filled hazel orbs. Shots of pleasure coursed through her when he moved that one finger in and out, and then slid another one in.

His thumb flicked against her clit, drawing small circles. The ache was almost unbearable. Her breath grew shorter with each circle. And with his stroke of his long fingers, her head grew lighter. The pressure was building inside her, she could feel it rushing. Rushing towards the peak. Her hands clamped around his shoulders hard, her fingers digging into his firm skin.

Then she jerked, her breath catching in her throat, as her inner muscles contracted around his fingers. Her mouth opened in a gasp of release.

When the tremors finally subsided, Michael extracted his fingers slowly.

Coated with her juices, he brought his fingers up and ran them across his lips, all the while keeping eye contact with her.

Blood rushed to her head at the sight of him tasting her.

Michael wasted no time in removing his shirt. Sara’s arousal renewed at the sight of his body fully displayed to her. She had seen him shirtless before, but to see him like this was very different. His tattoos did not distract her from his broad shoulders, or the black, downy hair which tapered down between his legs.

She flushed, suddenly nervous.

He came to her and ran a gentle hand down the side of her face. “Are you sure you want this?”

Swallowing hard, she nodded briefly.

He lifted her in a swift motion and backed her against the wall. The wall was cold against her back, in complete contrast with her burning hot skin. Her legs automatically went around his hips. As his rigid shaft bumped against her folds, she sucked in a sharp breath.

She moved a hand down between them and circled him. After pumping a couple of times, she moved his hard length closer and rubbed the tip against her, letting her juices and his precum mingle.

He groaned, and gently hefted her higher.

Then he drove forwards.

Her eyes shot wide open when he entered her. He pushed in, stretching her, filling her to capacity. She could feel every inch of him inside her, hot and hard. He was large, but they fitted well together.

“Michael…” she called out, overwhelmed by the sensation.

“You’re so tight,” he gritted out breathlessly as he withdrew to slam straight back in.

Her mouth fell open in a silent gasp as he thrust into her. Hard.

“And wet,” he continued as he withdrew slowly, as if he was savouring the movement, and again, entered her forcefully.

“Michael,” she gasped, clamping her legs around his hips tighter, pulling him closer.

Their eyes locked. His were fevered, aroused. The pupils were dilated more than usual, and his usually intense stare was even more breathtaking in his passion.

“Harder, Michael,” she urged, suddenly impatient for more. “Faster.”

He groaned, and then began to thrust hard and fast. In and out. His chest heaved as he panted from the exertion. Spearing into her, pushing her against the cold hard wall. Sara moaned loudly, her hips lifting to meet his thrust for thrust, push for push. His hard length was completely opposite to the soft molten heat at her core, but they were made to fit.

His stared into her eyes, letting her see what she was doing to him as his movement intensified. It became faster and deeper, pushing her further. Pushing himself further.

“Michael!” she gasped. The wall was scraping up and down her back, but she barely felt it.

The fluttering inside her began to grow. As she neared the edge, the fluttering intensified almost painfully. Her fingernails dug deeper into his back, scoring his skin.

Just then, Michael threw his head back with a loud groan. “SARA!” His hips jerked hard into her.

Then she exploded around him.

Sara opened her eyes.

The bright light from the reading lamp shone straight into her face, almost blinding her, tearing away the remnants of her wayward thoughts.

Sara shook her head to clear it.

Michael’s file was still in front of her with her. He stared up at her from his picture, his sober expression in complete contrast with the man who had just groaned her name out loud while he came inside her.

She had got to stop thinking about Michael this way. This fixation on him was getting out of hand. Her fantasies about him were completely unprofessional. And this was not the first time either.

Every time she had it, she wanted to get closer to him. But she knew that it was impossible considering their circumstances.

Stop it right there, Sara, she scolded herself sternly. A fantasy was a fantasy. She knew the difference between fantasy and reality. As long as her fixation with Michael only manifested itself in the form of her fantasies, she was going to be fine.

Right?

Sara sighed.

But she feared that one day, she might not be able to keep her hands to herself.

The End.