Dr. Claw and Madcat - non-journal - NC-17
He sat back in his leather chair, the morning's reports spread across his desk. Not that he paid much attention. Jason's attention was elsewhere, South America to be exact. He could feel the weather patterns off the coast of Chile and with a slight push, it retreated from it's westward trajectory and instead began creeping towards the mainland.
Amy smirked a little as she glided into the office, coffee tray in hand, hair swept into a French roll. She kissed Jason's cheek softly in greeting and began to prepare his coffee. "What's got you all preoccupied?"
He didn't move a muscle. In his mind's eye, he could see the hydrogen and oxygen molecules, so easy to push together. The clouds darkened as did his eyes. "Weather, my dear."
"Whatever you say." She passed him his coffee, then pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket, hesitating a moment. "I-I got this. Must've taken awhile for internal affairs to process it." Amy held out Beth's note, moving to stand at Cain's side as he read it.
Cain frowned at the words. "Helen Carver. Someone should take the rod out of her ass and then put it back in. With force."
Amy smirked "Well, I can't say I've had the pleasure of meeting her, but she sounds like she'd probably just enjoy it." She perched on Cain's knee, her black silk stockings sliding against each other as she crossed her legs. "So who is this 'Mrs. Ramsey' person?"
"Who?" Cain looked again at the card.
"The bitch threatened me" Amy said, pouting and turning so she faced Cain "I'm not going to let her get away with it."
"I've done far worse to you," he smirked. "And you enjoyed it."
Amy gave a feline growl, kissing his smirk "I think that's a little different." She said, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket and wiping off the dark red lipstick she had smeared onto him. "Don't you just love how these scarred?" Amy asked, slipping off her suit jacket, revealing a backless top which clung to her curves. She turned her back to him, resting her head on her arms on the desk, exhaling softly as one hand reached up and unclipped her hair.
"My point is," he growled, "the widow Ramsey isn't our concern. She's a gnat circling a ripe apple." He slid one hand between her legs, running his fingers up to her center.
"Mmmmnugnh" her breath caught in her throat "so we just let her take care of herself then?" Amy bit her lip, one of her arms snaking under her shirt.
He smiled briefly, realizing Amy wasn't wearing underwear. His fingers teased her outer folds. "Unless you're jealous of a woman who shagged a priest."
Amy relaxed back against her boss, purring softly "Now why would I need to be jealous of anyone, when I've got you?" She nipped his jawline, now completely ignoring any lipstick marks she left.
"Enough talk." He thrust two fingers inside, pushing deep into Amy.
She whimpered obligingly, her skirt riding high upon her thighs, cream colored skin visible above the sheeny blackness of her stockings.
All thoughts of weather patterns and terrified Chileans past, he turned his full attention to Amy. Fingers pistoned inside her, his mouth biting her neck.
The bite brought a gasp, distinct from the sea of moans from which it emerged. It spurred her imagination as well as her desire. That one bite brought back a flood of memories of the perversions they had shared, and a tremble of release soon shook her body, accompanied by a mewl which would've brought floods of worried staff into the office, if they hadn't grown used to it by now.
He slowly withdrew his fingers then, bringing them to his lips and licking gently. In one swift move, he lifted Amy onto the desk and pushed her onto her back. One hand unfastened his belt, allowing his pants to fall to the floor.
Amy grinned up at him with bright eyes, arms naturally settling above her head, grasping the brass clock.
Cain thrust himself forward, cock pushing against Amy's lips. He willed himself inside, pushing deep.
Amy's eyes flickered on Jason's image as they closed, the intensity of their connection slowly pumping through her body.
Hands pushed down on either side of the desk, steadying himself as he pistoned his cock in and out of the girl's pussy. As his eyelids closed, he could picture Amy's lithe body, every curve, raised goosebumps along her arms. Searching deeper, he could sense her nerve endings and with a push, connected with the most sensitive.
A yell spilled from Amy's mouth, a sweet pain burning through her body, her sleek form arching, gasping, pleading in indiscernible breathy whispers.
Visually he traced the nerve endings to her center, giving another push. His cock pressed deeper inside, thrusting harder.
Again, that sensation that was somewhere in the expanse of pain and pleasure, and the combined sensations, brushing against one another caused Amy to blossom like the fire around a newborn star. Indeed, Amy was on fire, consuming and being consumed, lost to anything but the pulse of energy ringing in her ears, in her body, most particularly in her crotch.
He pushed onward, driving his cock harder and deeper into the girl's cunt, as his focused thoughts continued to play inside her. With one sharp moment, he drove himself, both literally and figuratively, deep within her well. Grunting, he exploded, mind and body.
Amy's hands lost their grip on the clock, slippery with sweat, her breath steadying though still rasping as she watched Cain through lidded eyes.
Cain slowly withdrew himself from her, taking a clean silk handkerchief from his pocket, wiping himself dry. He pulled up his underwear and pants, reattaching the belt. Watching the girl, he reached over and took the coffee, downing it in one gulp.
Amy rolled up off the desk, smirking slightly at the wet patch on the reports. She shimmied her skirt down from where it was bunched around her waist, and leant up to Cain for a kiss, bruising and intense. When she finally pulled back she gave him a look of wantonness, not masked, but enhanced, by mock innocence. "Will there be anything else, Sir?" She smirked.
"That will be all for now, Miss Madison." Cain picked up the report, ran one finger over them and turned his chair.
Amy poured herself a bourbon and sunk into the sofa with a sigh, pulling a magazine from her bag and leafing through it with a contented grin.
**EDIT: Because I was in such a great mood I forgot the NC-17 Tag!**