Tiger's Heart

by the Nickers in a Knot

Rated: A het

Pairing: Amanda/Dustin

Author's Notes: We only did this 'cos Emily was sick. These two promised to help.

The Usual Suspects: Nickers in a Knot are: Dr. Ruthless, Jami Wilsen, Jennie, Pic, Sebastian, Xangel

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

"O tiger's heart wrapp'd in a woman's hide!" - Shakespeare - "Henry VI"

The day was typical SoCal smog. The main feature was the dirty sun as it glowed sullenly through the haze. Dustin Yarma felt a trickle of sweat run down between his shoulder blades as he sweltered in his silk suit, and wished that this interminable meeting were over. It had gone on for what seemed like forever.

The script had been a good one in principal, but it was never going to fly unless some drastic surgery was performed. Minnow had set him up; he could see that. The man had okayed this stupid project, and then somehow managed to shove the entire thing off onto him. He resented Minnow more and more each day.

They had argued for keeping the damned script at its full length, but it would come in at over 2 hours, and that was way too long. The audience would all be asleep by the end of the movie. They'd argued for the whole of his lunchtime, but this is what he was paid to know, and it didn't matter how much wordage was sent in his direction. He listened absently to the zillionth set of objections that the director was articulating.

It was time to cut this short. He wanted a shower. He most definitely didn't want to sit out here in the sun, heat and noise, breathing in the polluted air when he could be in his air-conditioned office. Damn lunch meetings anyway. Who had time any more?

"If Joel Antony doesn't like the cut in his part, he can be replaced. The script is way too long as it stands, and we'll only have to perform surgery on it later. Do it now and save us all a lot of money." He stood up, ignoring the protests that had begun to fly. "Sorry I can't stay. I have another meeting at three. Gentlemen." He nodded to the two men who were still attempting to make one last case for their epic, and began gathering his papers together.

Dustin was a tall, dark haired man with huge, expressive, green eyes, and the kind of face that one might have wished to put in front of the camera even in the Tinsel town world where even the store assistants were beautiful. His face had lately begun to show signs of a strain that had never been there prior to the events of the previous summer. The wide eyes had lost their keen focus, and he now had an air of moroseness. He'd been a party creature, living for the rush of hedonism, and the shock of his downfall had been almost too much for him. He'd withdrawn into his work, and the easy friends he'd known were now somewhere out there, partying on without him. For Dustin it was as if his past had happened to someone else.

Lacking any social life, he'd thrown himself into reclaiming his job. He was good at it, and though Minnow attempted sabotage at every turn, he was on top, and he intended to stay there.

He'd sighed with relief when Minnow had moved in with Darcy, taking many of his belongings with him. He'd stood in his suddenly silent home and whooped for the sheer joy of release, and then had the locks changed. Getting the parasite out of his work environment had proven more difficult, and the man still remained, a maddening thorn in his flesh.

Time, he thought. I need time. One day he'll be out of my life.

He was moving through the diners towards the street, and the air conditioned haven of his car, when his cellular phone shrilled.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

"Suzanne," Dustin growled threateningly as he neared her cubicle outside of his office. "I told you not to book anything else today and what happens? I escape from the lunch from hell -- literally, it was sweltering -- only to have you call the moment I get in my car to tell me you needed me by 6:00. I rushed through my 3:00, so now I've got a hacked off leading lady who goes in front of the Hell is Only in Your Mind cameras next week. Do you plan to protect me when the esteemed director comes gunning for my head with Mackey on his heels to mop up the pieces so that the carpet doesn't stain too badly?"

His administrative assistant simply looked at him calmly. "Are you through?"

"I've got more."

"Hold those thoughts for just a minute and let me ask a question. Wasn't it you that was only yesterday screaming for a script consultant who knew something about art theft for Framed? Or was that Minnow?"

Dustin immediately focused his attention on Suzanne. "It was me. You found me one already?" She nodded in self-satisfaction. "You're amazing!"

"And you finally noticed."

"God, Suzanne, you don't know how they were planning to shoot the action sequences. The storyboarding looked like a school play or something. Totally amateur. Mackey would've killed me if I let them shoot it. For the money they're spending --."

"Dustin, she's in your office."

"Who?"

Rolling her eyes in recognition of her boss' mouth going faster than his mind, Suzanne spoke slowly and carefully. "The script consultant for Framed."

"Oh. She?"

"Yep."

"Ok, that's fine. Women can steal art, too. Equal opportunity and all that."

Suzanne snorted. "A real renaissance man, aren't you."

"Give me a break, will you?"

"Go."

Dustin sighed and walked toward his office, shifting his briefcase to his left hand and fixing a winning smile on his face. When he opened the door, he froze. He hadn't expected to find the woman seated in his desk chair. And his imagination hadn't anticipated a tall, slender, seriously close-crop-haired blonde woman in a deep blue silk shirt, black jeans with black leather boots propped up on his desk. And a killer smile, he added to himself as he crossed the threshold and closed the door.

He watched as she gracefully stood and moved around his desk. "Hi, I'm Amanda and I probably made myself a little too at home. Sorry."

Taking the hand she held out for him, Dustin found himself smiling and soothing, "It's ok, so long as you didn't turn off my computer. The damn thing takes forever to wake up."

"You're Dustin?"

Blushing slightly, he nodded. "Yeah, I'm the man with the problem."

"Your art thieves look like they just play them on TV?"

"It's worse than that, actually."

Her eyebrows raised and Dustin was pleased in a strange way that he'd surprised her. That is, until she smiled as though she had about a million secrets and kissed him lightly on the lips.

Before he could say anything, she promised, "I'll fix it for you, Dustin. Don't worry."

Dustin found himself wondering what exactly "it" was when he offered, "Would you like to go over the script?"

"What I'd like is for you to describe the crimes you want committed over drinks. I'm parched; I'd forgotten how hot it can be here."

That was when Dustin noticed the long leather coat draped over his guest chair. Sadly, he silently cursed weather for not cooperating. He thought that her complete look might be worth seeing. Noticing her looking at him with a small smile on her face, he quickly said, "Drinks it is."

Dustin pulled up at The Ivy's valet parking, Amanda in the passenger seat since she'd taken a taxi from LAX to the Studio.

"This looks a little crowded," she commented. "Isn't there someplace we can go that's a little more," she paused, "private?" She pulled her sunglasses partway down her nose and gazed at him over the top of the frames. "I don't give away information to entire crowds, Dustin."

He looked at her, then nodded. He waved off the parking attendant and pulled out into traffic. "I owe you for your help, so your wish is my command."

His foot accidentally punched the accelerator as a graceful hand caressed his thigh. "I hope you mean that."

He changed lanes barely in time to avoid rear-ending the Audi in front of him. What was wrong with him? He drove better than this!

The hand withdrew with a soft chuckle. He took a deep breath, then focused on the usual drivers with road rage, endemic to L.A. Fortunately for everyone's safety, she left him alone after that until he came to a stop in front of his garage.

"It's awfully ... white," she murmured as she got out of his car, then turned her back on the house to enjoy the view. "But the view is nice. I always did like playing Queen of the Hill."

Dustin gazed at her back. The long legs atop boots with almost obscenely high heels, the way the Santa Anas flirted with her silk shirt, fluttering it against her, and the hair so short the wind barely ruffled it. He'd never thought short hair all that attractive before, but on this woman, on Amanda, it made him want to.... Okay, that's enough. Get yourself under control, Dustin. No more games, no playing. Remember what happened last time. Minnow happened. "Drinks are inside."

She turned with a laugh, her arms extended outwards, embracing the heat, the wind, even the smog. "I'd forgotten just how wonderful this place could be!" She strode to his side and tucked her arm under his. "Drinks inside, you said? I hope that includes champagne?"

"Uh, yeah!" Damn it, Dustin! Control, man! "This way."

The cool breeze of the air conditioning washed over them the moment they entered his house. It seemed even colder than usual because the moment they crossed the threshold, Amanda released her hold and darted forward, eyes examining everything.

He dropped his jacket on the back of the sofa and headed for the kitchen. As he pulled a couple of flutes from the cupboard, and the one of the bottles of champagne from the fridge, he heard her heels clicking against his floors as she moved through the house. Casing the place? He did have some nice things, one or two really nice ones, but nothing in her league, he suspected. Not enough style for her.

He removed the wire cage, then twisted the cork out slowly, with the ease of long practice. It'd taken a year after The Accident before he'd been able to even look at a bottle of champagne. He half-filled the flutes, tucked the bottle under one arm, and carried the flutes into the living room.

He set them down on the coffee table, then looked around, trying to see the place the way he imagined Amanda was seeing it. Lots of white. Lots of what current decorators called "style" but nothing that really was. Only the small sculpture in his bedroom had any personal meaning; the rest of the art had all been chosen by his decorator.

"I like the layout," Amanda declared as she returned to the living room. "And all those glass doors make access so easy," she added with a wicked smile.

She didn't just sit down on the couch; she sank gracefully into it, her champagne flute in hand. She took the first sip, and smiled. "California, but among the best. I'm impressed."

She suddenly rotated, stretching her jeans-clad legs across Dustin's lap as she lay back against the side cushions. "Ah, that's better. Now darling, what WAS it you wanted me to fix?"

He glanced down at the blatant move, suddenly feeling unaccountably grateful. She moves fast, he thought as he tried to get his brain back into gear. He took a sip himself, covering his confusion. He was acting like he was new to this. Why was he letting her get to him? Who was she?! Hed never met anyone quite like her. It was something in the way she seemed so self-confident, so unaffected by pressures or problems, herself. He somehow doubted that her own life was led without risk or danger... He shook himself.

"Fix?" he asked. "Oh, right. The, ah, problem at hand." Dithering, playing for time, he chanced a look over at her and saw she had an impish smile that was threatening to burst into a grin at any moment. He wondered if she was just playing with him or if she was making serious moves. It was hard to tell. Probably both. She didnt look like the kind of woman who needed to bother making plays she didnt intend to keep. He shook his head and regarded his glass, chuckling. He looked back at her. "You always work this quickly?"

She pouted momentarily and then crossed her legs, keeping them laid across his thighs, getting comfortable. She had to know what she was doing to him; she had to. He felt the first beginnings of a blush stealing across his face.

"Well, I thought youd want to get right down to business. You seem the dedicated type. I prefer to mix business with pleasure, myself. I guess we could agree to compromise? You talk business and Ill listen." She was grinning at him now. She toed off her boots, letting them fall away so that her stockinged feet were bare.

Damn it; was she serious or not? Dustin realized this might be exactly what he needed, however. Something quick and wild, and sweet; something to remember later that couldnt be jeopardized. He made up his mind to play it her way. He nonchalantly placed his free hand on her shin and rubbed it slightly, as if absently. "Well, lets start with experience. What can you tell me about your qualifications?" He lifted his head to give her a curious frown. "Exactly what is your area of expertise, Amanda?"

Her lips twitched. She sipped again. "I thought we agreed youd do the talking. Tell me about your problem. Thats why were here, isnt it?"

Taking the bait and rising to the challenge, he said, "I dont have a problem, actually. Unless you count the dangerously pathetic attempts of amateurs who cant act to save their lives. Or their careers. Um," he fell silent at the kneading motion her leg had begun under his hand. She moved like a cat, natural and completely unselfconscious and yet so deliberately. He was beginning to get hard. Which made him start to sweat. Jesus. He was losing it. Well, hed already lost it, actually. He felt like a fly in her web. He smiled to himself. And curved his palm around her shin more firmly, as if to keep her leg in place.

Her eyes sparkled at his discomfiture. "Oh, I think you do have a problem, dear. In fact, more than one. And I think Im more than qualified to be able to take care of all of them." She gave him a sunny smile and looked pointedly down at her legs... or was it his crotch? "Trust me on this."

Dustin cleared his throat and took another sip. "O-kaay, which one did you have in mind?"

She blinked at him almost coquettishly. "Lets focus on the one you have in mind." She chuckled and sipped from her glass before adding, "Business before pleasure... I guess we can do it your way."

He licked his lips, and went back to caressing her leg, lightly. She was like a breath of fresh air. Somehow, he couldnt see Minnow tangling with her and coming out on top... This made him think. Maybe she was right. Maybe she could help him, with every problem that had been plaguing him. She might actually be the answer to all his unspoken prayers. He asked, "Whats your price?"

"Im not sure yet; Ill let you know. Tell you what though; Ill give you the first solution for free. No charge." She grinned at him again and this time brought her knee up to rub her heel gently into his groin, just as he lifted his glass to his mouth once more.

His breath caught in his throat and he spluttered, nearly choking. With a mock glare, he wiped his lips. She had to have timed that deliberately.

Quirking a brow at the red-faced man, she gently removed the glass from his hand and placed it on a convenient table, and stood her own alongside it.

"I'm not averse to bathing in champagne, Dustin," she giggled, "but I generally undress first. You look all sticky. How about we kill a whole flock of birds with one stone and take a little swim in that pool I can see outside?"

The pool glowed a rich aquamarine in the sunlight, and Dustin glanced from the slim woman reclining across him, to its cool inviting ripples and back to her questioning face.

"That's a very good idea," he drawled. "I've been in meetings, in offices, in cars, all day... and it's a long time since I've had the chance to enjoy a swim with such a lovely person. It's possible there may be a swimsuit somewhere... my ex-girlfriend..."

She interrupted with a laugh, swinging her legs from his lap and walking over to the window to look out on the terrace. "I can't see anyone overlooking your lovely garden, and I'm not coy about swimming nude... Surely when you've been in Cannes, at the film festival... ?"

"Surely when I've been elsewhere, too," he agreed, smiling. "I'll get some towels. The window may be locked, I'll just get it open for you."

"I doubt that'll be a problem, Dustin," she said archly. "I'm quite expert with locks."

He blushed at the faux pas, and turned to get the towels.

By the time he'd returned, she'd taken the drinks and bottle out to the pool, and left them on a table in the shade of a large umbrella. He dumped the pile of soft mint-green towels on a recliner, and removed his robe, adding it to the pile. Underneath, he had on a pair of black swim-shorts. His Speedo had been rejected when he discovered just how obvious the effect Amanda was having had become; nudity was out of the question... at least for now.

The warm breeze sifted through the palm leaves, rustling them softly. But for the low hum of traffic they could have seemed completely alone in this idyllic place. The day's frustrations were suddenly trivial, the nagging thorn named Minnow forgotten, and there was no rush to pursue the business that had brought Amanda into his life. He sighed, and felt his cares melt away.

Her head and shoulders popped up out of the water just in front of him as he approached the pool. Shaking the water droplets from her hair in a glittering shower, she grinned happily and said, "This is so fine, just what I needed. Jump in quickly, or I'll have to come out there and push you in!"

"You think you can push me, if I don't want to be pushed?" Dustin asked softly.

Amanda looked him over, a slow sensuous smile stealing over her face. Finally, she whispered, "But you do, don't you?"

"You think so?"

Shaking her head at the challenge in his tone, she swam a stroke toward the ladder and paused. When he didn't move, she swam another. And another.

When she reached the ladder, Dustin grinned and dove in, enjoying the feel of the cool water against his skin. Reaching the far end of the pool, he turned back and she was halfway out of the pool, posing on the ladder. Dustin's breath caught in his throat as his eyes tracked from hers to her lips, then along her throat to her breasts. God, they were perfect and exquisitely lit by the early evening sun. From his vantage point, the scene would've been at home in a good indie film -- something that middle America could jack off to and insist they'd been watching art. Breathing faster, Dustin's eyes continued their perusal, groaning softly when he realized that her lower body remained under the water.

Amanda was smiling an invitation and Dustin accepted. With an economical crawl, he reached her side quickly. And she slithered -- he could think of no other word to describe the motion -- down the ladder and into his arms, pressing full length against him and holding his eyes captive with hers.

Dustin's voice didn't sound like his own when he murmured, "Why are you here with me?"

"Why not?" she replied huskily. "It's pleasant here."

"Pleasant?"

Laughing playfully, Amanda wrapped her legs around Dustin's waist. Shifting her hips meaningfully, she asked, "Isn't this pleasant?"

He'd barely articulated his agreement past a suddenly dry throat before Amanda leaned in and traced his bottom lip with her tongue. "Like that?" she whispered, wriggling in his arms, ostensibly to further an effort to get more comfortable.

She was making him crazy. Dustin groaned, "Why me, Amanda?"

Grinning, she took his hand in hers and placed it on one of her breasts. "If I was going to feed you a line, I'd say that you remind me of someone. Very much. It is true, by the way, but Cory has nothing to do with this."

The feel of her breast in his hand and the fact that she'd put it there made it ok somehow that she'd mentioned another guy. Still, Dustin thought it prudent to change the subject. "You don't seem the type who needs to resort to lines."

"Actions speak louder than words, Dustin."

Not exactly sure which of the plethora of actions that ran through his mind he wanted to take, he stalled. "You do proverbs well, though."

In answer, she uncoiled her legs and stood, running a knowing hand along the length of his erection and allowing, for now, the swim trunks to remain a barrier. "Maybe we should investigate and see what else I do well. After all, you did want a recitation of my qualifications. So what do you say, Dustin?"

He was proud that his voice was even when he agreed.

Amanda beamed. "Poor planning on my part, though. Our champagne is too far away."

"I can fix that," Dustin offered.

"And then we can see about fixing what ails you."

When she released him, the loss was sudden and unbearable. He took hold of the ladder to climb out, feeling the cold metal under his hands as a kind of grounding as he emerged from the water to fetch the champagne and the two glasses they had been using.

Placing the bucket and flutes on the pool surround, he permitted himself a quick look at her where she floated, perfectly at rest in the waters of the pool, a fey being, as beautiful as the water itself, gleaming silver in the late sun of the afternoon. An idea loomed in his mind, and he grinned, taking a piece of ice from the bucket before swiftly re-entering the water.

As he drew near, she opened a lazy eye, then closed it comfortably, a naiad on her aqueous throne.

"Do we have refreshments?" she inquired, continuing to float, unmoving.

"We do. Overheating is such an uncomfortable fate, don't you think?" There was a laugh in his voice as he reached to place the ice cube squarely into her navel.

There was a shriek, and she folded, the cat-like contentment suddenly transformed into wild thrashing that sent droplets of water flying, each it's own small prism in the glittering sunlight. For a moment she was gone, and Dustin, who was snorting with the laughter that came from the successfully reprehensible application of a practical joke, didn't see her.

When she erupted from the waters, it was to press up behind him, cool arms snaking around his neck to pull him, choking and gurgling still, off balance, and to topple him until he was below the surface of the water, nose full of the stuff as he tried to fight her off.

Gasping, he rose to splutter himself clear of the water he'd managed to ingest, and shake his head to rid his face of it. He was still not functioning on all cylinders when she wound her arms around him yet again, he yelled, a sound that was sharp in the quiet of the afternoon.

With a whisper of 'bastard' that was half a laugh, her mouth touched his, grazing softly, and then fastening firmly into place, her tongue stealing warm and secret past his lips. He moaned, pulling her in against him to center her firmly against his groin, where his dick was swelling again, pulled like a magnet by the proximity of her against him.

Kissing her was a powerful magic. It stole the breath from his lungs, caused his blood to pound alarms inside him as he drank her down. She had a taste all her own, apples and sunshine, wine and cinnamon. He broke, gasping to bury his face in her neck as she writhed against him with a low laugh.

"Maybe we should adjourn to a place where there's no danger of drowning," Dustin suggested, voice rough as he trod water so they could both breathe.

"Spoilsport," she said with a pout. Then in a mercurial personality switch that he was beginning to realize was normal for her, she twisted out of his arms and swam to the steps. She climbed out, but stopped with one foot on the top step, the other on the coping and turned. "You coming? Eventually, I mean?"

Dustin groaned and sank underwater briefly, shooting back up with a powerful thrust of his feet against the bottom of the pool, stripping his face and hair of water in one smooth gesture with both hands. "Sooner than later, at this rate," he muttered.

"Last one in the house has to open the next bottle of champagne!" She scampered inside.

More slowly, Dustin climbed the steps from the pool, then grabbed a towel. He still had his trunks on, and they'd drip.

It didn't take long for him to open another bottle, and find her. She was in his bedroom drying her hair with a towel, another one wrapped around her. "Oh, good. You took me seriously." She reached for her glass and held it out to be filled. "You take orders beautifully, you know."

"I prefer requests, please."

She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "If I waited for you to request things, nothing would ever happen!"

He refilled her glass. "I did have one request, Amanda. I still need some information for this damn picture. It's a museum and I need to know how a real thief would break in." He refilled his own glass as he spoke.

Amanda plopped down on the bed, then patted the satin and velvet comforter next to her. "Come here. I hate to shout," she said throatily.

He started to, then stopped. "Hang on. These trunks will wreck the comforter." He started to turn toward the bathroom when he got hit with a wet towel. He turned, and saw it was the one she'd used on her hair. He flashed her a grin.

"Yes, ma'am." He turned his back on her to slide the trunks quickly off, then wrap his hips with the towel.

"So modest," she teased.

"This towel's damp, though."

"Would you get over here!"

He piled up the pillows, and then sat on the bed leaning back against them. He hoped he didn't look as awkward as he felt. It was worse than his first time. Why this woman should make him feel as awkward and inexperienced as a schoolboy, HIM!, he had no idea.

"Okay, it's pretty easy."

His brow furrowed as he wondered if he should take notes, or if he'd remember it all. "Relax, darling, I won't bite unless ... Well, let's just say I won't bite you right now."

He tried to relax, though that last comment didn't help at all!

"That's it, take a deep breath."

It worked. Okay. He grabbed his champagne flute off the nightstand and took a sip.

"Good boy. Now, let's try again. First, you need to collect data, case the target."

He suddenly realized that she was casing HIM, her gaze starting at his toes and slowly moving up, making him extremely self-conscious.

"Then when you know what you're dealing with, you can either go for it right away," she said, reaching for his towel. "Or you can just observe the first time," she held him with her eyes as her hands slowly pulled the tucked corner of the towel free and ...

The only term he could come up with to describe it was that she unwrapped him.

She continued. "Examine your target carefully, checking for any surprises, and make sure it isn't a cheap imitation." She dropped her gaze to his groin, then ran her fingernails up one thigh to his hip. "And this target is a very pleasant surprise."

He groaned as Amanda bent closer to her target, her lips parted.

He found himself holding his breath, waiting for the inevitable. She flicked her eyes up at him with a predatory gaze, a mischievous twinkle within them that promised so much more. She seemed to be waiting to ensure he was fully alert. As if he could be anything but! He swallowed. He raised a brow at her, asking huskily, "A-And if the, ah, target is... worthy of the attention?"

Not moving from her position, she grinned and murmured, "Go in, under cover, preferably at night when everyone is sleeping - or when their attention is firmly engaged elsewhere." She sank lower and lower by scant inches in the air, making his heart pound faster... She was going to, wasn't she? He almost gulped as she began whispering playfully, "Slip in, avoiding any traps that block the best route to acquiring it..." she moved both sides of the towel away and spread it out so that he was completely exposed to her ministrations, "... and then seize it." She grasped his cock firmly with one hand at the base. "Once you have it in your hands, it's yours. All you have to do is leave the way you came," she added, and ran her tongue down its length. "Mm-mm, I was right," she smiled. And began laving it all the way back up, inch by inch, with just the tip of her tongue while he gasped.

His world stopped as she pulled away. He wanted to exclaim for her to leave off the damn lesson and just get on with it but realized he did not want to disappoint her or do anything that might jeopardize any possibility of her finishing this.

She smiled at him, not so much wickedly now as more intimately. "Once it's yours, you take it home. And be careful not to leave any trace that you were ever there. Nothing that can be tracked back or betray your identity - or you're through." And she opened her mouth to engulf the head of his cock in her warm, sweet mouth. The sight of it made him spasm and it was all he could do to not to come immediately. Christ's sake, he was responding to her like a 16-year-old virgin! He had more staying power than this. But he couldn't help wondering how anyone else would respond, in his position. She was a marvel. The unbearable sensation of being sucked so expertly by that mouth was making him shake. It's the build-up, it's her manner, he told himself silently; begging a God he had given up faith in to give him the right moves... and the strength to last.

Her hand curled hard and possessively around the stem of his now painfully-rigid cock and the other went to investigate his tightly drawn-up balls with two curious fingers. "I've given you the help you wanted, Dustin. Now how about telling me about that other little problem; the one closer at hand?"

"God, you're already..." he stopped, licking his lips, breathing hard. "What's your price? For the first problem solved?"

She smiled winsomely and raised one brow at him before lifting herself up to crawl up towards him on hands and knees, slowly, much like a large cat stalking her prey. Straddling him, she sat up and pulled the towel away from her body, revealing her nude glory. It took his breath away and all he could do was lie there beneath her, speechlessly. He'd never before met a woman who behaved the way she did. Perfect poise, self-control, taking pleasure in her own hunt and capture and final possession.

Sinking down to press her bosom against his chest and bring her arms up to take his head in her hands, her fingers in his hair, she leaned down to place her lips just above his, and whispered, "Let's kill two birds with one stone, shall we? The same price, for both of your immediately pressing needs?"

He grinned up at her, his eyes half-closed now at the suggestion that she meant to follow this through. "Sounds fair to me." His hands had come up to clasp her to him, and now he slid them caressingly over her back, down her smooth skin to her ass. The feeling of her damp, wet fur between her legs pressed against his stomach was driving him crazy. His cock was achingly aware of the scant inch it was from laying along the crack of her smooth asscheeks. So close. Too close! This was going too slowly, he wanted to bury himself in her - but he had to keep reminding himself that he would play this her way, and keep to the pace she dictated. Certainly it had him more aroused and eager than he could remember being in a long time, with anyone.

Then her lips were on his, hot and desirous, no longer teasing but taking. Melting onto him breathlessly with a passionate urgency that matched his own. Thank fucking God at last, he thought fervently, deliriously returning the kiss and meeting her tongue as he licked at her lips. She was enjoying him; it was like being eaten. He'd never thought it could be so fun to be the prey... Her knees held him tight and her pussy hair was rubbing against him, her ripe cleft drenching his skin, driving him mad.

He watched through passion-heavy eyes as Amanda sat up, grinding her wet pussy against his cock.

She grinned down at him. "Like that, do you?"

Beyond words, he nodded jerkily.

Without warning, she rose, grasped his erection in one hand and sank down on him, enveloping him in her warmth.

"Shit," he gasped, arching up into her, back bowed, muscles tightening.

Watching his reaction closely, Amanda tightened her inner muscles, massaging his aching cock. "Mmmm, Dustin, you feel sooo good," she said throatily.

Unable to keep still, feeling his orgasm gathering at the base of his spine, Dustin thrust up into her desperately. His breath came heavily as he quickly lost himself in the need to come. This was so ... so damned good. He groaned and grasped her hips in both hands, pulling her hard against him.

"Oh, no, lover ... not so fast," she gasped, rising off of him.

He moaned the loss. "Please, Amanda ... I can't wait! Need you ... need this."

Climbing off of the bed, she gave him a devilish grin. "Trust me, Dustin," she tossed over her shoulder as she headed over to his closet. "I'm going to make this an experience you'll dream of for years to come."

Hell, he thought, it's already that, Amanda. Watching with a combination of curiosity and dread, he wondered what in the hell she expected to find in his closet.

"Ah ha," she crowed triumphantly. "Here we go, lover." She turned back to him, a shoelace clasped in one hand.

Shoelace? What the hell? With trepidation, he watched her climb back onto the bed.

"What," he swallowed heavily. "What do you plan to do with that?"

Smiling mysteriously, Amanda reached for his still-hard erection. "Oh ... well, in the absence of a cockring, this will do nicely. Don't want you to lose it too soon, now, do we?"

"If you tie that round, I might lose it completely," he rasped, "from gangrene."

Reaching out, he gripped her arms and tumbled her over to lie beneath him on the bed. She stared up at him, eyes wide, her chest rising and falling in sharp gasps with surprise. He knelt across her slim body, holding her down, but being careful not to crush her, and licked his lips in anticipation. Slowly her smile returned. "Want me to struggle, and make you feel like a caveman, Dustin? Or would you prefer me to melt at your manly domination?"

She studied the face of the delicious man that fate had thrown her way. She'd been expecting a typical businessman, uptight and stressful, or a lecherous middle-aged fart with a pot-belly and a crude attitude. But this... this was someone worth the trouble... Maybe not trouble, though, Amanda? This is a pleasure and you'd better make the most of it while you can.

She leaned forward a little more. Dustin had a beautiful penis, she thought, peeping down beneath his thighs. Somewhat like Cory's...though his was whole, uncut. However Dustin's had a certain allure, even scented as it was with chlorine from the pool.

"Go for the melt, Amanda. We executives aren't trained for a struggle on the casting couch."

Gripping her slender wrists with a strong hand he plucked the shoelace from her grasp and wound it round them. He knotted it firmly, then looped it through the ornate fretwork of the bedhead and fastened her to the stout iron curlicues. Her stomach did a flip-flop as she acknowledged that he'd got the better of her.

Suppressing the urge to yank at the bonds and rail at Dustin, she struggled to keep her knowing smile as she tested the cord unobtrusively and found it unbreakable... at least in the short term.

Sliding down the bed a little, his hands cupped her breasts, enfolding them in a firm yet careful grip, and he rubbed his thumbs across her nipples. A delightful tingling pulsed through her flesh and she rolled her shoulders, feeling the generous nubs pucker and stiffen. As he moved across her, his hard length trailed across her stomach and thighs, teasing at her groin so that she felt her tension ease and her legs fall open a little, hoping his cock would stroke against her clit.

Grinning broadly, he sat up, his erection jutting proud from his crotch, the shaft glistening with precome and her juice. "Oh, no, Amanda. I don't want to lose it too soon, do I?" he said smugly.

Glowering at him, she found herself, much to her chagrin, bucking her hips up toward him. His hand slipped down between her legs, and, lifting one knee and replacing it between her thighs, he parted them, twisting his hand to just stroke against her pubes with the tips of his fingers. The flesh was suffused with blood, slick with clear secretions from her arousal, and he lifted his smeared fingers to his lips and sucked them clean, tasting the musky scent of his new lover.

At his touch Amanda held her breath, feeling her groin heat with the need for him, wishing he'd go quickly, yet knowing that it would be so much better if he took his time. He lowered his head, and she gulped in air, allaying the dizzy faintness caused by forgetting that need for oxygen, and hoping he'd head for her cunt. She wasn't about to ask him, though... no way. Bad enough that he'd turned the tables. Hovering just above her pussy, his tongue inched out and snagged in her curly chestnut hair, tugging gently. With an effort, she kept still, willing him closer, lower.

He peeped up at her, raising a brow as if to enquire what she'd like him to do. She turned her head a little to the side, trying to look nonchalant, viewing him from under her lashes. He chuckled, and bent down to tease her belly-button with his tongue. It tickled and she squirmed, her wet slit coming to rest against his thigh.

Laughing a little more he licked a broad stripe up her stomach and up under her left breast, lifting it a fraction with his strong tongue before running across to lap at her nipple. She gasped loudly as he sucked it and the aureole right into his mouth and massaged it firmly with his lips and tongue. Spikes of sensation like starry pinpricks streamed from her tits and plunged between her thighs. She pressed her slit against his leg, rubbing desperately as he turned his attention to her right bosom, palpating it until she was whimpering and humping mindlessly against his muscular thigh.

Reaching down with his right hand, he slid it between his skin and her slippery crotch, smoothing gently over the labia and touching her clitoris gently before sliding his hand down to slip a couple of fingers inside her. She squealed as his skin brushed against her sensitized nub, the merest feather-stroke blissful torture to the tiny bundle of nerve-endings. The fingers weren't nearly enough, her body bore down on them, hoping for more as her brain struggled vainly for composure, for an illusion of control.

He pulled out again, palming the outside of her cunt and pinching it gently to roll her clit against her soft, wet membranes. His mouth kissed a slow, burning trail up from her breasts, sucking and nibbling at her neck to her ear before he plunged his tongue inside the delicate channel. She moaned, tugging at her bound wrists, frenetic with the need to feel him inside her as his breath and hot tongue drove wave after wave of tormenting bliss straight to the pleasure center of her brain.

"You want something, don't you darling?" His voice was a sultry growl, buzzing in her ear. "You're pouring juice for me, aren't you, beautiful teaser? All wet, all lubricated for my cock. But I'm not going to be cruel, and make you hold it. I'm going to make you come, and then I'm going to make you come again, only this time it'll be my turn, too. Is that satisfactory, or would you like me to go away for a while so that you can relish the anticipation?"

He lifted himself clear of her body and knelt up. Goosebumps trickled across her skin as the cool air-conditioned air replaced the heat of his hard body. She moaned, arching her back to keep herself pressed against him as he drew away.

Dustin viewed the slim woman squirming on his bed and smiled. His dick was jumping, throbbing, wretched with the need to plunge inside her, but the sight of Amanda lashed to his bed, helpless with desire, was too lovely to lose too soon. "Well?" he prompted, coolly, as he appreciated the flex of the long muscles under the smooth pale skin of her arms, and the taut breasts, pulled upwards by her tied hands.

"Yes," she admitted reluctantly, in a low whisper. "I want you... p-please go on. Do what you want, but don't leave me here like this."

"Fine," he smiled. He slid from the bed and strolled over to a glass shelf full of trophies and memorabilia. The golden object he selected was smooth and heavy, warmed by the day's sun so that it was slightly hotter than his skin. He hefted it in his hand, rereading the inscription with a quirky smile, then returned to the bed and placed it between Amanda's legs. Her eyes flew from the tiny statuette to his face, and she giggled breathlessly.

"There aren't many uses for one of these," he remarked, trying to keep a straight face, "This is one of the more amusing ones."

Stroking her legs apart, he knelt between them and, at last, buried his face in her groin, licking at the silky folds of her labia, letting the whisper of a touch brush across her clitoris and finally delving his tongue into her blood-swollen vagina. She could feel herself gaping open to draw him in, wincing a little as his rough chin scraped the membranes. He drew back, and the warm round head of the Oscar just slipped into her hole. Pulling the skin back with his thumb, he blew on her tiny pleasure-nub before tonguing it gently as he slowly pushed the weighty trophy up inside her. It lay, solid against the channel, and her muscles gripped it thankfully, relieved to have, at last, something to work against.

"Are you OK?" he breathed, then sucked briefly on her clit.

"More than OK," she gasped, wriggling her hips against the golden dildo that he held.

"Good," he replied, looking up and smiling. He released the Oscar, and got up once more, rearranging himself with his legs either side of her shoulders, and his arms tucked behind her thighs, tilting her hips upwards. His cock-head dangled, purple and ripe, just at tongue's length if she strained her head upwards. She swiped her tongue across it, capturing a few drops of pre-come and breathing in the heady scent of Dustin that was swamping the chemical pool aroma at last.

Ducking down he swirled his tongue right round her clitoris before stroking it lightly. One hand went to the Oscar, working it slowly in and out, the other, wet from her juice, slid down her cleft to her asshole, and a finger circled it gently. She gave a shuddering groan, her legs falling wider as she pushed her pussy up into his face. He gradually increased the pressure of his tongue, licking her clit and her softly creased flesh with long firm strokes, feeling her internal muscles pull at the golden statuette as he fucked her with it.

Amanda's consciousness shrank 'til the blinding rapture that existed between her legs was the only thing that existed in the world, in the whole of time and space. The pleasure rounded, grew, and, distantly she could hear herself murmuring, "Yes, yes, Dustin... go on... please go on... " He tongued her harder, knowing that as she neared her climax what would have been painful was now what she most desired. She was wriggling in his grip, her head twisted over so that he could bite and lick at his thigh, helpless to guide him or hold him closer with her bound hands.

The muscles in her ass started to grip rhythmically. He could feel it against his probing hand, and against his face. He stiffened his tongue, flicking at the hardened clit. Amanda's words turned to breathy yelping cries as all knowledge of herself was subsumed into a tidal wave of euphoria, a scalding, singing rhapsody that rolled over and over her as he held her fast, fighting her bucking hips to milk her pleasure to the dregs.

Sinking her teeth into his inner thigh she gave a strangled scream to collapse, limp, half fainting, beneath him.

Dustin Yarma smiled down at the woman sprawled on his bed, reaching to untie Amandas hands and gently massaging the muscles of her shoulders and arms while he waited for her to come back to him. He knew he was grinning like a kid at the satisfied smile on her face and the completely relaxed posture but Dustin had other matters that demanded his attention.

He was painfully hard and knew himself well enough to realize that he had no chance to keep his promise of a second orgasm to Amanda if he didnt calm down. Taking a calculated risk, Dustin called Minnow to mind. The image he chose was Minnows stupid grin when he got a lucky break and tried to call it savvy. That expression did bad things to Dustins blood pressure and for reasons that he didnt want to think about was detrimental to his self-confidence. In this situation, the shock of bleach blonde hair over dimples evened out Dustins breathing and relieved some of the relentless pressure that had built in his cock.

More comfortable, Dustin settled in next to Amanda and pulled her into his arms. Murmuring contentedly, she wiggled closer and whispered, "That was nice, Dustin."

"Im glad," he noted, hugging her tighter and ducking his head into her neck to hide the triumphant expression he was certain was on his face. He couldnt keep it at bay even though he sensed that Amanda wouldnt like it. More to the point, shed make him pay for it. Dustin didnt want to pay; he wanted to play. With Amanda, he wanted to play as long as he possible could.

"You better watch yourself, spoiling me like that," she warned as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I want more."

"And more you shall have," he promised.

"I like my men agreeable in bed."

Dustin smiled, "I cant imagine you having trouble with that."

"Oh?" Amanda asked, leaning in for a kiss. When he obliged, she opened her mouth against his and tempted his tongue to duel with hers. Most perfectly agreeably, she was pleased to note; he succumbed. Deeply and roughly, he claimed her mouth with his, but she knew full well that his aggression would only make him hers in the end. When he pulled back, breathing hard and fighting to regain control, Amanda traced his resurgent erection with knowing fingertips. "Why dont you relax and let me take care of you?"

"But you... you wanted more."

Smiling wickedly, she switched to fingernails, teasing his hardness with the barest hint of danger. "Ill get what I want, Dustin. Dont you worry about that. Relax."

Her ministrations felt too good; Dustin couldnt refuse. In only moments, Minnows face was gone -- far gone from his mind. His entire world was Amanda. It consisted of her tongue licking slow lazy circles around one nipple and then the other. Her teeth marking him as hers. Those nails making him moan and shift his hips in an effort to get more stimulation. Her lips roaming along his chest, meandering over his abdomen and taunting him by avoiding his cock.

Dustin couldnt help but moan, "Amanda," when her lips began moving in the wrong direction. "Amanda, please."

Those lips had reached his left ear but she took her time nipping and licking at his earlobe and the sensitive skin below. "Do you have any idea how much touching you like this turns me on, Dustin? You wont believe how wet I am already even after that incredible orgasm you gave me. I can barely believe it but I have to because I can feel it. Just like I can feel you."

Thanking any superior beings who might be listening and willing to grant him further blessings, Dustin shamelessly thrust into her hand, grateful for something more than feather light fingernail strokes.

The feel of her expulsions of breath against his ear and her sultry tone were driving Dustin toward a frenzy just as much as her hand was. "Do you want to feel me, Dustin? Wrapped around your beautiful cock. Clamping down just when you dont think I could be any tighter. That what were doing together on this bed couldnt feel any better. Do you want that?"

Panting uncontrollably, he barely managed, "Yes. Christ, yes."

"Will you be a good boy for me, Dustin?"

"Wouldn't..." His response was a gasping laugh. "Wouldn't you rather have me be a bad boy?" He gave an outraged yelp as she bit down sharply on his earlobe. "Fuck!"

She snickered.

"That's the wrong answer, Dustin. Would you like to try again?" Her tongue traced the tendons of his throat, and she paused to suck hard at the base of it, leaving a purple love-mark like a badge of honor as her restless mouth terrorized his quivering flesh.

"God, yes!" he moaned. "I can be good. I can be so fucking good." He arched again, trying to find the friction he craved, and winced as she scratched lightly with long and painted nails. "Hell, I'll be great!"

She laughed, and her mouth gently, softly, carefully centered itself on his, ghostly touch to begin with, slowly firming, until she was sucking his very breath from him. As he groaned acceptance, her fingers tightened, and slid the length of his cock, sending a pulse through him that made him buck.

He took a deep breath and rolled, bearing her with him, ignoring the sharpness of nails that expressed her displeasure at the move, a sharp intake of breath his only acknowledgement of the sudden pain she'd caused as he reached to disengage it.

"You're a tease, Amanda. You know what I do to teases?" Her pout was perfect, and he pressed her down hard onto the mattress as he studied the elfin features. Sure enough, after a moment or two she burst into giggles.

"You love it, you know you do. What do you do to teases, Mr. Film Magnate, sir?" Her dimples peeked deliciously, and Dustin shivered.

"I spank them." His growl was a sound reminiscent of fur dragged over shingle, and he straightened, her hands held within his, pulling her forward and over his lap despite her struggles and kicks. As she shrieked and writhed, he pinned her on his lap, one hand holding hers in the small of her back, and raised a hand, bringing it down with a firm slap on one smooth, tanned buttock. Amanda squealed, half laughing.

One long leg held her steady, and his hand began a rhythmic rising and falling, painting the firm and rounded muscle with dull red. First Amanda cried out, and then she began to moan. Her thighs spread a little and she began to arc her body to meet his slaps. When he finally stopped, she was squirming in a different and altogether more seductive manner. He slipped his fingers around between her thighs to feel that she was dripping wet.

Rolling her over once more, he slipped his cock inside her, pushing in, in, in until he felt the creeping sweetness of the pulling, clinging channel sucking him under. He paused, gasping, trying to contain himself long enough to get under control, and thought desperately of Minnow, of dead things that lay in wait to entrap him, of anything that would hold him back, anything except for drowning blue eyes and smooth, slick tissue that sucked at him.

Dustin groaned his appreciation and began to move, out, away from the heated core of her, out as far as he dared, only to drive home, hard and fierce, while she whimpered, writhing against him, and clawed at his back.

In and push, slow as he could, teeth embedded in his lip in an effort to hold himself in check, while she swore at him and scratched and called him a son of a bitch. When she finally came, he felt it happen. Waves of heat and pulsing walls that clasped him tight and slippery, sucking the resolve from him as he drove home and again and again.

Freed at last, he speeded his movements, short and sharp now as he raced for his own completion. Her legs wrapped around his back and oh, mercy, she was coming again, voice high as a little girl while her hands flung themselves back to twist in the sheets. Too much! It was too much to bear. Orgasm slithered around his spine, coiled within his balls, and sprang, unbearably delicious, pouring out to fill her, while he pushed in against the grip of her vagina.

When he could, he began to breathe once again.

She lay beneath him, lips parted and still sucking breath in short gasps. He could feel her heart pounding beneath him where he lay still tightly grasped by her legs.

"You can let go now," he reminded her with a grin, catching his own breath back.

She groaned high-pitched in her throat, complaining a little as she finally let loose her hold around him, letting her legs slide down to the bed, and he slipped out of her. "Too bad," she said. "Now your lovely sheets will get all messy."

He stared down at her, his suspicion growing. "You can't be ready again, not - so soon. Already?"

She chuckled at him. "Really, Dustin. I'm surprised at you. I would've thought you'd be more familiar with the female reproductive cycle."

It was his turn to groan. He turned and fell backwards against the bed, beside her. "You're right, of course. We could end up going all night. And what a way to go."

She leaned up on her elbow, regarding him with a curious little smile on her lips. "So, I guess it worked, then."

He frowned. "What worked?"

She trailed a finger along his face, down his cheek, along his jaw, and kissed him once. "Your problem; it's taken care of. Well, both of them."

He let out a breath. And laughed. "Yeah, yeah; I'd have to agree. You definitely did, at that. I guess the only question I have left is: how many more of my problems are you willing to help me correct, and how long will you be able to stand hanging around a problematic fellow like myself?" His light tone couldn't exactly hide the seriousness behind his question however. Nor the wistful set of his eyes as he turned his face to meet hers.

She smiled down at him, angelically. "I suppose I could help you with a few more. Purely in the interest of continued good relations, of course. But as for how long? I'd say I have all the time in the world, but that might not apply to you. You have such final - deadlines - to meet. Let's say instead, however long it takes me to solve them." And she pressed her mouth to his once more, a deeper, longer kiss that held a certain promise that he hadn't noticed in any of the previous ones...

END

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Feedback to Dr. Ruthless

| Alex Annex | Characters | Stories/Alpha | Stories/Author | Home |