Chivalrous Intent, Part 3
Miranda fled down the dark hallways of the Order, not caring which way she ran, hoping to get lost in the still stone silence. Eventually she grew tired, and sank down to her knees, wracked with confusion and anguish. In spite of the...beautiful explosion of pleasure she'd just experienced with Allen, her body still hungered for Cross, and rather than feeling satisfied and at ease, she felt even more agitated than ever! There had been something in Allen's eyes, just before she left, that touched her deeply. Something that could have been the beginnings of feelings stronger than friendship? Yet, dancing just in the shadow of that bright and fluttery thought was another more wanton one. Miranda couldn't wait to try out her newly acquired skills on the virile, red-haired General. She couldn't wait to have him heavy in her hand, in her mouth, pressing inside her, filling her...
But what about Allen? What if he is starting to care for you? He'd be devastated if you went back to Cross now!
She let loose with a frustrated wail that echoed eerily back to her seemingly from everywhere.
"Got troubles?" asked a deep and rumbling voice.
Miranda nearly leaped out of her skin, and then almost passed out as she looked up to see General Winters Sokalo emerging from the dark. A reply was completely out of the question, as her voice had scurried off to parts unknown. The large, scary-looking man quirked his eyebrow and laughed--laughed!
"What am I saying," he chuckled. "You're a pretty woman, and Cross has his eye on you. Of course you've got troubles."
If you only knew the half of it! she said to herself.
Sokalo drew closer and squatted down beside her. "A word. Not advice. Just a word."
Miranda nodded, welcoming anything that might help unravel the tangled mess of her thoughts and emotions.
"The Marquise de Sade," he began, "once said that every woman is always torn between two men: the one she wants to love her and the one she wants to fuck her. If you want Cross to love you, then you're an idiot. If you want him to fuck you, then enjoy it. It's what he does best. Leave the loving to someone else."
By the time Miranda had gotten over her shock at Sokalo's blantant, unappologetic, and repeated use of one of the coarsest words in the language, the man had already gone on his way. However, his words had left her with a strange sense of comfort. It was as if she had been given permission--to do what, she still wasn't sure, but she knew that part of it involved riding Cross' cock...and sucking Allen's again. She got to her feet, brushed herself off, and headed for the bath. It was time to soak and to think.
Cross was in Heaven. At that very moment, Miranda Lotto had her luscious lips wrapped around his cock and her tongue was doing the most deliciously indecent things imaginable. Of course, he'd recognized his idiot apprentice's technique immediately, which vexed him a bit at the beginning. At present, however, Miranda was improvising--with enthusiasm, much to his great delight. What had begun as a whim, as an idea of a trivial dalliance was developing into the possibility of a regular opportunity here at Headquarters--an advantage on many counts. She wasn't a working girl, as Anita had been, but she could be taught, apparently she was a lightning-fast study, and she didn't seem to be squeamish about things society deemed unusual or indecent. Oh, the things he could do with her! As a bit of a test, Cross ran his fingers through her hair--Oh, HEAVEN, her hair!--and pulled slightly to get her to detach.
"Here's something you probably haven't done," he said, and shifted a bit to expose his opening to her. "Touch yourself," he instructed." She gave him a questioning look, but didn't hesitate. Cross took a few moments to enjoy the look of pleasure on her face as her fingers worked between her legs, then he stopped her, guiding her now slick fingers to press against his entrance.
"I can't touch you there!" she giggled nervously.
"Of course you can," he purred. "I'm asking you to."
"Does that...does it...feel..."
"Good?" he finished for her, and grinned. "Tell you what. You do this for me, and then I'll show you exactly how good it feels."
Her whole body seemed to quiver with excitement or anticipation--he wasn't sure which--and with an endearing look of concentration, she pressed one finger slowly into his body.
Miranda watched in fascination as the General--and his cock--began to respond to this most unusual activity. She would never have guessed that a finger...there...could make a man react so. It set her to wondering whether such a thing was equally pleasurable for a woman. Cross' earlier words seemed to hint that it was. As she worked her finger in and out of him, she felt the muscles relax a bit, so she added the second finger as he'd told her and stroked him with her other hand, since she imagined he'd like that.
"Ah! Nngh! Yes!" he barked, trying to control his ragged breathing. "Now. Curl...your fingers. Feel for... NGH! Guh! Ah!"
And just like that, Miranda realized, she had managed to render the great General Cross Marian incapable of speech. Who knew such power existed, all focused upon this one, small spot within a man's body? Remembering the almost sweet and salty taste of Allen's semen, Miranda thought she might like to see what Cross tasted like. With a dexterity she'd never have imagined she posessed, she lowered her mouth onto the head of his erection and began to suck. Almost immediately, the man gave a strangled cry, his hips bucked upward, and her mouth was filled with him, salt, tang and a slight bitterness, almost like a strange soup. She swallowed him down, cleaned him properly, and then fell back onto the bed thrilled at her newfound power, terrified of this wantonness that seemed to belong to another woman entirely, and painfully frustrated by her own lack of release.
For a moment, the two of them lay there, panting, silent and reflective. Then Cross began to stir, and Miranda looked up to find him parting her legs and giving her a rakish grin.
"Your turn," he whispered.
Link was lecturing. Something about deceit, impropriety and behavior unbecoming a gentleman. Allen wasn't listening. Deep in thought, he couldn't even concentrate on eating properly. This business between himself, his Master and Miranda had somehow become much more complicated than he could ever have imagined. He still wasn't sure if what he was feeling for his pretty comrade was love or simply deep friendship and a healthy dose of lust. Of course, that would make what he was doing morally reprehensible--which would make him no better than his Master. Allen shuddered at the thought.
An exasperated sigh and the sound of a chair scraping back on the floor brought him back into the present moment. Link was headed towards the kitchen, no doubt to see to his own neglected breakfast. Like clockwork, Lavi appeared by his side as soon as the Inspector was halfway across the room.
"Thought he'd never leave!" the redhead muttered, then grinned. "So. How are things? Is our evil plan working?"
"I don't know," Allen answered. "I'm not even sure why I'm doing this anymore."
"Well, allow me to refresh your memory," Lavi laughed. "You're doing this because Miranda is a fine woman and quite lovely besides. You're doing this because your Master is a bastard who will break her heart. Most importantly, you're doing this because Lenalee is never going to spread for you while her brother's alive, and Link would report you as a heretic for sure if he were to walk in on you and--"
"That's enough, Lavi!" Allen interrupted, stealing a few furtive glances around the cafeteria.
"My point is, enjoy this," said the junior Bookman. "She is still coming to see you, isn't she?"
"Yeah. But that's not the problem." Allen looked over towards the kitchen window. Link and Jerry were apparently engaged in a rather lively conversation about a pie that rested on the counter between them. Confident that Link would be occupied for a while, he edged his chair closer to Lavi's.
"I'm making progress, but I don't think it's having the effect we wanted," he whispered."
"Well, it used to be that she'd ask me how to pleasure him," Allen explained. "Now, she only asks me what I like."
"And enlighten me. Why is this a problem?"
"She's still seeing him," Allen complained. "I know she is. And she's enjoying it. What's worse, I think he's teaching her all sorts of depraved things to do. Just last night, she asked me to..." He lowered his voice even further. "She asked me to put my...cock in her arse!"
"And did you?"
Allen shot the redhead a scandalized look that Lavi returned with a raised eyebrow.
"Doesn't bother you when I ask."
"That's different, and you know it!" Allen hissed. "Miranda's proper and respectable, and...and he's corrupting her."
"Seems to me that she's a willing party," Lavi replied. "And if she's willing, then..."
"Besides," Allen sighed, "Master and I agreed that we wouldn't try to...penetrate...until the two weeks were up--which, upon reflection, was always a royally bad plan. It's driving me insane!"
Lavi gave him a sidelong glance and tapped his finger thoughtfully on the table. "Um. Allen?"
"Whoever said that those rules applied to you?"
Allen goggled at his friend. "But...but...that's cheating!"
"And since when have you had a problem with that?" Lavi exclaimed and poked Allen in the ribs.
"I want to win this the fair way," Allen retorted. "The point is that it's her choice."
Lavi sighed. "Honestly, some days you have half the wits God gave a block. If you're dipping her honey, and he's not, who do you </i>think</i> she's going to choose? And as for that, do you really suppose that General Cross Marian is going to play by the rules?"
"You've got a point," Allen murmured and chewed his lip. "Still...I don't like it. I think...I think I might be..."
"Later," Lavi whispered. "Watchdog's coming back. You've got tonight to plan. I say, tomorrow make your move."
The redheaded Exorcist rose and sauntered away leaving Allen even deeper in his troubled thoughts than he'd been before.
Miranda was determined that, no matter what, it was going to happen tonight. He wanted her to beg? Fine. She'd beg. She'd do whatever he wanted her to do, so long as General Cross would finally bury his deliciously large cock inside her. Frankly, she was astonished at his ability to delay his own gratification, not only hers. If it was driving her mad, there was no telling what it was doing to him.
She nodded to the guards posted outside his door before they admitted her. A week and a half ago, she would have spent hours worrying over what they must think of her. Now, she didn't care. In fact, she felt a certain kind of pride in being here. Most of Cross' women, so Allen had told her, lasted a sum total of three days before he cast them aside. She was in the company of his favorites. That was certainly cause for celebration.
The room was warm with the glow of a crackling fire in the fireplace. Cross already waited for her in bed, naked but for a sheet, brandy snifter in one hand, cigarette in the other. On a table in the middle of the room, the rest of the brandy and another snifter full of amber liquid sat in readiness for her.
"I trust you are well this evening, General," she said, taking a sip of the brandy, and began to unbutton her blouse.
He said nothing, but took a drag of his cigarette, smirked, and turned the sheet down to reveal his already considerable erection.
Miranda sighed in mock exasperation. "Well, now. With you in that state, what's there left for me to do?"
"Plenty," he replied. "And you do it so well."
"You flatter me, General," she smiled, letting her skirt and petticoats fall to the floor. His eyebrows lifted as he realized she wasn't wearing pantalets, only stockings held up by ribbons. "But in spite of that, I'm worried."
"About what?" he asked, stroking himself as he watched her cast off her corset cover and walk towards him.
"I'm afraid you're growing bored with me," she answered and climbed into bed, straddling his legs.
"Does this," he gestured downward, "look bored?"
Miranda allowed herself to gaze down at his penis, heavy and engorged, nestled in a well-groomed thatch of dark red curls. Just the sight of it made her body surge with longing and excitement.
"No," she finally answered and lightly ran her hands over his chest and abdomen. "But he looks hungry. Let me feed him."
Cross chuckled, set aside his cigarette, and began to stroke her thighs. "You have no idea how tempting that is."
"So, give in," she whispered, grinding her hips in a slow circle. "You said you wanted me to beg for it. Well, here I am, begging. I want you inside me. Just thinking about it makes me wet. Can't you feel it?"
He let a hand stray between her legs to massage her sex, and she nearly lifted off the bed, so powerful was the jolt of pleasure that shot through her when he dipped his fingers inside.
"Please," she gasped, unhooking her corset. "I can't wait any longer."
"Then promise me something," he said.
"Anything. Anything at all."
Cross fixed her with a smouldering stare. "Stop seeing Allen."
"I...I'm sorry. What?" It was the last thing she'd expected him to say, and it stopped her cold.
"Stop seeing my idiot apprentice," he repeated in a matter-of-fact manner without any trace of malice or jealousy. "Promise me that, and I will most willingly fulfill all your desires."
For a moment, Miranda was tempted to burst into tears, gather her clothes and admit defeat. Then she remembered where she was and who she was talking to.
"Why?" she asked pointedly. "Why do I have to choose? You have a whole army of lovers. Why shouldn't I enjoy the same privilege?"
Cross smiled and shrugged. "Those are the rules of the contest."
"Contest?" Miranda frowned. "What contest?"
He sighed, reached for his glass and took a sip, and adopted an obviously feigned look of uncomfortable embarrassment. "The contest that Allen challenged me to shortly after you and I began...talking...to each other."
"Oh, he meant well, I suppose," Cross continued, lightly. "He was worried I'd hurt you, break your heart, something like that. So he challenged me. Two weeks, no genuine intercourse, and at the end of that time, we'd ask you to choose. As you see, I've been faithful to our bargain...more or less."
"And that's why?" Miranda whispered. She felt the tears pressing behind her eyes again. "All this time I thought there must be something wrong with me! Something I was doing that made you not want to..."
"Oh, I assure you, Miranda, there's nothing at all wrong with--"
"No!" she cried. Self-pity was fast being replaced with anger and humiliation. Here she'd thought that Cross had singled her out, had found something of worth in her, when the truth was, he'd only carried on this long because of some cruel bet he and Allen had devised. And Allen! How she could have imagined that he would have any real interest in her? She bit her lower lip to keep it from quivering and silently berated herself for being such a great fool.
"Miranda?" Cross asked, sensing her distress.
"I..I..I AM NO MAN'S PRIZE IN A BET!" she shouted and struck him with a strength and fury long buried in her miserable past of ridicule and denial. Her mind went blank. She had no control over her limbs as they flew, not that her blows were of any consequence to him. Still, she lashed out, frustration fueling her outburst, allowing her to wrestle with a man three times her strength. And then he was laughing, and somehow, she'd become pinned beneath him, his strong hands encircling her wrists.
"Yes!" he crowed. "There it is!"
"There what is?" Miranda asked, quite out of breath. The situation was not improved by Cross' decision to lean down and kiss her.
"That strength I find so attractive in a woman," he whispered into her ear. "I knew you had it in you...from the moment you wandered into my room." He began to suck on that sweet spot just behind her jaw, and her capacity for rational thought promptly vanished as she felt the gentle pressure of his erection against her entrance.
"To hell with honor," Cross growled. "I'm having you now!"
The pleasure of feeling him slowly sink his length into her was like being drunk on all the wine in the world. Miranda lifted her hips to meet his, encouraging him to fill her as deeply as possible, his groan of satisfaction heightening her own arousal. For someone so reportedly selfish, Cross proved to be a conscientious lover, allowing her time to adjust and relax before commencing his slow and steady thrusts.
The General was only the third man she'd ever been with, and compared to him, the other two were like a bland porridge to his lusty, robust curry. How he managed to manipulate their limbs into such a variety of positions without compromising the connection between their bodies was a mystery but one she was so very glad of, all the same. Each one brought her to new heights of pleasure as the angle of his cock inside her changed, and every time she thought she was on the brink of climax, he'd do something different, taking her even further.
She was balanced on his lap, facing him, her legs wrapped around his waist when he began to massage her rear entrance, dipping occasionally into the wetness between them until he was able to slip the tip of one finger inside. Miranda cried out at the sudden bolt of lightning that shot upwards through her and ground her hips in small circles against him. Soon one finger had become two, and he was moving them within her, opening her up completely.
Their pace quickened, cries and lustful snarls escaping them, and she felt alive across every inch of her skin, alive with energy where he pinioned her. Suddenly Cross gave a mightly roar and she felt his liquid heat filling her up. Muscles contracted and she came, her body spasming uncontrolably over and over, laughter and tears spilling out of her with reckless abandon.
Four days. It had been four days since Allen had last seen Miranda--or rather, since Miranda had agreed to see him. She'd broken their appointment abruptly three days prior, and since then, he'd seen very little of her. He'd sought her out, but somehow she managed to stay a step ahead of him. Of course, he could guess at what had happened, and he knew Cross was to blame, curse the man. And curse Link, too, since his German watchdog hardly ever slept and never really took his eyes off of Allen long enough for the young Exorcist to slip away and confront his Master. Still, she'd sent him a note saying she wanted to see him tonight in the baths. That was a very promising sign.
As the hours ticked past, he feigned filling out paperwork while turning over in his head what he could possibly say to Miranda to make her understand the reason for his deception. Not a whole lot came to mind, and it occurred to him that perhaps the best thing to do would be to start off with groveling and work his way up from there. That plan firmly intact, he tried to focus on the tasks Link had set him with marginal success.
After supper, Allen made his way to the baths, Link hard on his heels. Miranda was waiting for them just outside the changing rooms, and she smiled at them both, which made Allen heave a huge inward sigh of relief. She didn't appear to be angry or upset. That made things easier.
"Inspector, good evening," she said. "If I might ask you to...indulge me for a short while. I need to speak to Allen in private."
"I'm afraid I can't do that," Link answered, politely. "At our rooms, perhaps, but here in more public places, my duties require me to be more diligent. I hope you understand."
She considered for a moment, then nodded. "Then, if I could ask that you not report the particulars of our conversation in your records? Would that be agreeable?"
"It is...highly unorthodox," Link conceded, "but I'm willing to make a concession in this case."
"Shall we go in, then?" Allen suggested, and gestured towards the entrance.
When he emerged from the men's changing rooms, Miranda was already waiting in one of the smaller, more secluded pools towards the back of the bathing area. Allen slipped into the water, his heart pounding with nervous anticipation. To his credit, Link didn't get into the pool with them, but chose to situate himself in one of the ones nearby--out of immediate earshot, but within sight distance.
"Miranda," Allen began, "I'm so sor---"
A kiss interrupted his appology.
"I know," she whispered when they'd parted.
"Then...you're not angry?" he asked.
"I was," Miranda admitted. "But as Cross reminded me, you were only looking out for me, as a friend. I think I can forgive that."
"I want you to know," he began, "that everything I said or did, I meant it. I wasn't using you."
"Weren't you?" she asked. "Not intentionally, I'm sure, but I think, somewhere deep inside, you're angry with him, and you wanted to get back a bit of your own."
"Perhaps," Allen mumbled. "I don't know. I just...I like you, Miranda. I think you're smart and beautiful, and...I like you."
"I like you, too, Allen," she smiled. "But I don't love you. I don't really know you well enough for that."
He nodded, feeling at once relieved and sadened at the same time.
"For what it's worth," Miranda continued, "I don't love General Cross either. The two of you are, to me--oh, what did General Tiedoll call it? Ah, yes. Friends with benefits. Ours is a difficult job, Allen. Most days it scares me half to death. It helps to have a friend or two with whom you can be open and intimate."
"But does it have to be him?" he protested. "I know what he's like."
"And so do I," she soothed. "I'm a grown woman, Allen. I know very well what I'm getting into, and...I want you to understand that I don't want to choose between you. I want you both."
"Well, if that's what you want," he conceded, "then...who am I to tell you no?"
She smiled warmly, kissed him again, and even fondled him a bit beneath the water. "Now then," she murmured into his ear, "I want to ask a favor of you, and before you say anything, you should know that your Master is involved."
"What exactly do you want me to do?" Allen asked. As she whispered into his ear, his eyes grew wider and wider with shock and surprise.