Author: She's Hearing Voices PM
Rachel find herself falling for someone she least expected. Sark does as well.Rated: Fiction T - English - Sark, J. - Chapters: 3 - Words: 2,669 - Reviews: 13 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 6 - Updated: 08-25-06 - Published: 08-11-06 - id: 3098686
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Alright, this is my first attempt at any sort of Alias fic, so ... be gentle. :P
Disclaimer: Yeah yeah I don't own the characters ... big whoop.
Their tongues met in a heated dance; one trying to desperately take the lead over the other. Their mouths both demanding control. His arms were wrapped around her, and his hands maneuvered through her soft blonde hair. He used the excuse of running his hands through her hair, to push her closer to him.
Sark pulled away for a moment to take in her beauty. The symmetrical curves of her body were enough to make his heart beat ten times faster. In his eyes, she was perfect. The only flaw was to her character, her choice of loyalty to her country; the fact that she worked for others who were avidly seeking to take him down. But, he could learn to live with that.
Rachel took that instant to unbutton his shirt. Her lips trailed down his perfect chest as she undid each button. Afterwards, she hastily removed his shirt and threw it to the side, where her shirt would soon land to accompany his. Her lips then went back to meet his, as their position against the wall became more obvious. "Shall we move this onto the bed?" His lips vibrated against hers as he asked. She responded by putting her hands on top of his shoulders and guiding him over to 'their' bed, which they had rented for the night. She then pushed him on the bed and started to remove her blouse.
"Tough day at the office?" Sark asked with a playful smile. Her noticed the eagerness in her actions. He then watched her throw her blouse aside and reveal a lacey black bra. "You're perfect." He whispered and she smiled. She straddled him and continued to place fervent kisses along his chest. He groaned at the touch of her delicate lips. It was then that Sark felt himself wanting to please her as much as she was pleasing him. No woman had ever made him feel this way. He pushed those concerns aside and roughly picked her up and switched positions, him being on top, and the one in control.
Rachel couldn't remember the exact moment when it became necessary to have Sark on top of her. All she remembered was that she woke up one morning and she not only wanted him, she needed him. Call it an act of desperation, but Rachel became addicted. Addicted to the way his hands felt on her back as he kissed her neck. Addicted to the way his lips felt against hers. Addicted to the way he looked on top of her as they both reached their peak.
At first it was a one-time deal. She was the very British Lydia, and he was Bob, the American. And then, after yet another encounter, their 'visit' became a monthly appointment. Rachel knew that the others in the office wouldn't understand. He was, after all, a known criminal; a rebel, whose only reward in life was money. Rachel understood that, and yet it wasn't enough to keep her from falling for him.
Rachel's thoughts were interrupted and she started to giggle lightly at the light touches of Sark's tongue on her stomach. "Something funny?" He asked her. Rachel shook her head, still smiling. "No, it's just … you were tickling me." Sark couldn't suppress his grin. "Really? I'll be sure to make a mental note of that for the future." His head lowered, and he looked at her as he teased her by placing a light kiss on her stomach, receiving a giggle from Rachel. He smiled. "Come here." Rachel said, shaking her head as she pulled Sark back up to meet her lips, her tongue demanding entry. He opened his mouth willingly and his tongue joined hers.
As they kissed, Rachel's hands expertly worked at the buckle to his belt. With one quick motion, she removed the belt and threw it over to the ever-growing heap of clothes. Sark paused for a moment and said, "You know one of these days we're going to do something other than … this." Rachel smiled devilishly, "I doubt it."
A minute later, Sark's pants joined the pile, followed closely by Rachel's. Sark remained on top of her, in nothing but his boxers. Rachel had always figured him as more of a 'briefs' man herself. Slowly, he moved away from her mouth and started to trail down her neck and finally to the spot in between her breasts, Rachel lifted her head back and moaned in ecstasy. Sark smiled as her moan made her chest vibrate against his lips.
"Quit stalling." Rachel finally said, growing more impatient with each kiss.
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