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“I remember you,” is the first thing Valeria says to Iz when the bay door opens and Alejandro guides the drug lord onto the aeroplane.
Iz frowns. “What?”
“You came with the cavalry,” Valeria says. “The second wave of hero motherfuckers. What, they get tired of it being a bunch of fucking men? They miss the señoras?”
“There’s women in Los Vaqueros, Garza.” Alejandro is shoving Valeria towards the cell at the other side of the plane. “Or did you forget that whilst you were running Las Almas into the ground with your narcos?”
Valeria laughs. “A couple of your putos isn’t the same thing as a special operative, Alejandro.” Her eyes drag over Izna in a way that makes her skin prickle. “You bring a pretty girl to Las Almas, best be careful my boys don’t show her around.”
Simon twitches in the background, but Valeria’s eyes are locked on Iz, so she doesn’t seem to notice it as she reaches the door to the cell. There’s a cruel smirk on her face, and then Alejandro is shoving her inside to lock her down. It’s only when Vargas steps back out of the cell and slams the door shut to leave Valeria by herself in the windowless cell that Iz finally goes to Ghost and stands with him.
“Jesus, she’s poisonous,” Gaz mutters.
Alejandaro hums his agreement. “She’s what’s drowning my city in her narco waste. The sooner she’s out of the picture, the better.”
Ghost’s hand touches her shoulder and Iz leans into it. They say nothing. Nothing needs to be said. He just slides a hand over her stomach and guides her back into her seat. They strap themselves in, fingers linking. Alejandro glances them both over.
“So, that was the prickly thing you were on about, Lieutenant?” he chuckles, sitting back in his seat. “Looks like Ghost here isn’t so prickly after all.”
Iz squeezes Simon’s hand. “He’s a fucking terrible communicator, though.”
“Can’t be good at everything,” Alejandro concedes. He glances over at Ghost, and what comes out of his mouth next is in Spanish.
Simon’s hand grips hers a little tighter as Izna frowns. “What?” she asks. “What did he say?”
Ghost mutters back something Izna doesn’t understand.
Alejandro’s brow raises. He shrugs before responding.
“Hey,” Iz snaps, “I’m right here if you’re talking about me.”
Vargas’ hands raise in surrender. “Just saying, you’re the forgiving type. He’s a lucky man.”
She settles back in her seat. “He damn well knows it.”
Ghost’s thumb feathers across the back of her hand as the engine whirrs to life and the bay door shuts.
They’ve barely crossed into American airspace when the plane suddenly rattles, throwing around bags that weren’t stowed properly. Alejandro jerks his head towards the cockpit. “Rudy!” he shouts. “The fuck is going on?!”
Rudy’s cursing and spitting and swearing. “Fucking narcos!”
Alejandro jumps from his seat, a rapid-fire Spanish order pouring from his mouth. Rudy responds in kind. Alejandro spins on his heel.
“Fuel’s been siphoned,” he shouts. “We don’t have enough to get to our first destination. We’ve got to bail out.”
“What about Valeria?!” Soap yells. “We can’t leave her here!”
“I know!” Alejandro barks back. “Rudy’s got it in hand! Plane’s being tracked, US military will pick it up when it lands!”
“How do we know she won’t escape?” Price is up and about, tossing parachutes to everyone. “Narcos have this planned out! They’ll be there to pick her up!”
Rudy appears from the cockpit. “No, they won’t.” He reaches for a parachute. “I’ve diverted our flight path, changed it from where we were supposed to land to somewhere else. It’ll buy us a couple hours.”
Iz grabs a parachute, frowning. “That doesn’t mean she won’t get away.”
“That cell is bulletproof and blastproof,” Alejandro promises as he pulls on his pack. “By the time the army gets hold of it, there’ll be enough of them to fuck up any narco dumb enough to try cracking it open.”
“I don’t like this,” Ghost growls.
Iz doesn’t either. “I’ll stay,” she says.
All heads turn to look at her. “Kaur?”
“I’ll stay,” she says again. “Lock me up in the cell with her. I’ll keep her where she is.”
“Absolutely not,” Price begins, but Iz hands him back the pack.
“I can fly this thing and land it,” she promises. “I’ll bust the keypad so they can’t open it from the outside and then lock us both in.”
“Iz,” Simon starts.
“Don’t,” she growls. “You lot, focus on getting the fuck out of here when I give you the all-clear. I’ll land it easier without panicking over you.”
“Don’t you dare,” he snarls.
“Riley,” Price’s voice brooks no argument, “on my command.”
Simon’s eyes widen. He glances between her and Price. Iz stares at him, silently orders him to do as he’s told. Finally, Ghost looks back at her.
“You,” his hands are lifting his mask up to his nose, “had better fucking survive this.”
Then Izna’s being kissed with an angry fury that lifts her off her feet, and she grabs for him to pull him in deeper. Alejandro lets out a sharp whistle.
“Let’s go!” he orders. “Shiva, see you on the other side.” He pulls a tablet from his bag and switches it on. Valeria appears on the screen, staring at the door to the cell. “Make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.”
“Get out of here,” Iz shoots back, and goes for the cockpit.
She gives Ghost one last look as the rest of 141 leap from the bay door, and then she’s alone, except for the sadistic sicaria currently locked in the bomb-proof cell behind her. She diverts a little more from their intended course just to make sure, and then sends up a prayer to whichever god is currently feeling merciful.
She’s not sure if it’s Mum’s god or Dad’s that decides to answer her, but the plane comes down intact and unscathed. Iz locks every door, heart in her mouth.
“Bravo team, this is 2-7, how copy?” she whispers into her radio.
Static.
Right.
She takes a deep breath and checks the tablet. Valeria’s still sat there, unmoving except for an occasional twitch in her leg. Iz unloads her gun and sets it in a weapons locker, and then she keys in the code for Valeria’s cell and pulls the door open. The sicaria looks up, a single brow raising.
“We there already?” she asks.
Iz tugs the keypad off the outside of the cell with a screwdriver, then cuts the power to it and tosses it to one side before setting the lock on the outside to automatically engage the second the door closes. She steps into the room, pulling the door shut behind her with the emergency lever. For a final measure, she locks the door manually using the heavy sliding bar. She’s alone in the room with Valeria Garza now, and there’s no way out except through a rescue party.
Now’s the question of whether the narcos reach them before the US military and 141 do.
“Where’s Alejandro?” Valeria’s voice is casual. “Where’s all the boys? They leaving us to have some girl talk, that it? They think you can crack me? Fucking men.”
“I’m not here to crack you.” Iz sits down on the bench opposite her. “I’m your security guard.”
Valeria chuckles. “Meaning?”
Iz meets her eyes. “Meaning that your narcos did their job. We had to land. Except we didn’t land where you and they were hoping and expecting us to. Los Vaqueros and 141 are already on their way, and when they get here, they’ll have the US army with them.”
There’s a vague look of admiration on Valeria’s face. “You sacrificed yourself,” she realises.
“Not really a sacrifice.” Iz doesn’t move a muscle. “I know them. I trust them. They’ll be here. And you’ll probably get the chair for what you did.”
Valeria leans forward. “I’m not an American citizen,” she reminds her.
“That’s really not going to stop them,” Iz shoots back.
The sicaria makes a conceding face. “Guess so. You’re gonna blink and let it happen, eh? Aren’t you meant to be a good guy?”
“Maybe I wouldn’t let it happen, but I was in Chicago,” Iz says. “I saw what Hassan did. And you put him there. So no, I don’t have any sympathy.”
“How tough,” Valeria’s voice is mocking, “big strong soldier girl doing right by the people of America and letting the big bad narco die. Nobody buys it, English girl. You’re not doing this because it’s for a good reason. Come on. Why you with Alejandro’s little squad?”
“Because I think it’s a good thing?” Iz raises a brow. “You don’t think so?”
“Come on, special forces .” Valeria leans forward. “What’s brought a pretty English girl to this all-boy fuck-fest? You patriotic? You don’t look it. Don’t talk like it.”
“Price extended the invitation, I took it,” Iz replies. “Why? Want to know my sad story?”
“Come on,” the sicaria laughs, “it’s been way too fucking long for that. They pay you good? Blood money? Cause I can pay better.”
“I’m good,” Iz says coldly.
Valeria pauses. “Is it dick?” she asks casually. “You fucking one of them? All of them? You their little base bitch or some shit like that?”
“I fucked all of them, doesn’t mean it’s a regular thing.” Iz shrugs.
“Ohhh, so it is dick,” Valeria realises. “You just got one of them on the regular? Which one? Stupid fucking hat? The kid? Nah, too young, plus he looks like he worships your captain.” She sits back in her seat. “Pretty boy with the big eyes? No? Oh god, not Alejandro. Fuck, English. You got a legion of women to fight if you want Vargas.”
“Is this doing anything for you?” Iz asks.
“You weren’t looking so happy at that tall fucker,” Valeria recalls. “What did they call him? Ghost. That was it. You his?”
“The boys might hold off on cracking your face open because you’re a woman,” Iz stares her down, “but rest assured, I’m not going to even blink.”
Valeria just smirks. “It is him, huh? Christ. How the fuck does that even work? He split you open with that thing? You walk funny for days, I bet.”
“Shut up or I gag you,” Iz says, her voice cold.
Valeria's smirk goes cold. “I have a better idea.”
The sicaria is on top of her before she knows what’s going on.
By no means was Izna Kaur a slouch in hand to hand, but Valeria shoves her so hard against the back wall that she's winded. The cuffs that adorned Valeria's wrists are secured to Izna's instead, catching them on the netting behind her.
"Oi!" Iz shouts, straining against the restraints, as Valeria sits on firmly on Izna's knees and smirks.
"Gonna crack my face open, puta? That your game? Gonna play it up for the camera, show all the boys a little action, make your fantasmo hard?"
Valeria gripped Izna's jaw, forcing her to make eye contact.
"I have a better idea."
Valeria unclips her bulletproof vest and yanks it cruelly over Izna's head, not caring if it hurts or not. It's tossed aside as Valeria turns back to shoot a cold smile to the flashing red light overhead.
"Gonna show your girl a good time," Valeria slaps Izna's thigh as she calls out, "fuck her better than you ever could."
Izna's eyes widen and she wrenches herself away from Valeria, just as the other woman reaches for her shirt and rips it in half. It splits open, and Izna tenses, desperate to cover herself, only for the sicaria to grab the knife off of Izna's hip.
The expected death doesn't come, Izna knows what Valeria just said she was going to do, but doesn't trust her not to change her mind, but instead the blade cuts through the the middle of Izna's bra to let her tits spill free. Izna's shocked gasp fills the room.
Valeria licks her lips. "These are some perfect tits, big boy. No wonder you picked this one to fuck."
Her gloved hands raise to cup the soft mounds, thumbs running rough fabric over the nipples. Izna squirms, trying to get away, even as a sharp gasp escapes her.
"Don't fucking try it, you're not going anywhere," Valeria goads. "How many of those fucking vaqueros are watching, huh? You think Alejandro is fucking his hand thinking about you right now? Maybe that pretty boy Soap too. And I bet your Ghost is watching every fucking thing I'm gonna do."
She's playing with Izna's nipples now, pinching and rolling. Despite it all, Izna can feel the pleasure from it, and her breathing grows heavy and loud.
"Fuck, bet you'll be soaked," Valeria taunts, and ducks her head to give one nipple a sharp suck.
Izna starts with a sharp gasp, and the cold satisfaction of Valeria's gaze makes her ashamed of it.
The woman shoves Izna's thigh open as she settles down to lick and suck at her captive's breasts, lavishing them with attention. Izna imagines they still have several hours to go before the rest of 141 get to her, and Valeria…
Valeria is going to take her time.
The seat of her underwear is saturated by the time Valeria pulls away. Iz can feel it, the cool wisp of air over the saliva still drying on her nipples. With her legs trapped under the sicaria's weight, Izna can do nothing except wriggle away as Valeria undoes the belt on her tactical pants and begins tugging them down. They catch around her knees, trapping her effectively, and Valeria uses that to her advantage as she picks up the knife again.
Izna stills. Valeria's amusement is heavy in the air.
“Calm down, or you’ll get hurt. I told you I had a better idea.”
The tip of the knife finds the seam of Izna’s underwear and slices through it with ease. Suddenly she’s bare and exposed, cool air licking over her folds. Valera’s palm covers her, fingers stroking through the wetness.
"You get wet this easy for your big fucker?" Valeria coos. "Guess you fucking need it, he's a fucking giant. Splits you open on that thing."
She works two fingers into Izna, languid and lazy as they pump in and out.
"I'm so fucking glad we get to be alone together, you're so fucked."
"Fuck off," Izna gasps even as those fingers begin to speed up a little.
Valeria's hand finds her throat to hold it without squeezing, as Izna's soaking folds are spread by a third finger.
"How does he fuck you?" Valeria breathes. "Is he a fucking animal? Makes you take it all fast and rough til you're sore?"
Iz turns her head away to pretend like she isn't here and Valeria grabs her face to force her to look back.
"Don't be a fucking princess, I've got your cum all over my fingers," Valeria jeered. "Try being all fucking uptight with half my hand all wet like this."
Izna trembles as pleasure washes over her, the rapid motions of clever fingers working her up despite herself. A few whimpers leave her mouth, and Valeria's responding laugh is mean and mocking.
"That's it, let me know how good it feels, how much better I make it feel than your fucking English giant." Valeria's fingers screw her faster, deeper, curling up to find that sweet spot.
Izna is abruptly on the edge of orgasm like a switch has been flipped, and she cries out in shock.
Then Valeria pulls her fingers away, and three hard slaps come down on Izna's clit.
"Don't think you can hold out on me, fucking bitch." Valeria taunts, licks the wetness off of her fingers. "Let's see that fucking willpower crumble."
Izna cries out in surprise and pain, eyes fluttering shut as her hips rock away, trying to escape Valeria's hand in case it hits her again.
"No, no, no," the woman grips her jaw tighter, "eyes open, look me in the eye, I wanna watch that wall around you break."
Her fingers are inside Izna again, mercilessly working her over until, unbidden, a squeak escapes her. Valeria tongues Izna's nipples, sloppy and wet, forcing another noise from her.
"Bet you wanna fucking cum," Valeria's clever fingers are hooking into that sweet spot, "but you fucking can't, not til you beg me, til you're broken in half for me. You got that?"
Izna doesn't reply.
The slaps on her clit are harder this time, and they almost feel good as Izna rides that hard edge with shaking thighs. Valeria coos at her, and her cheeks flush.
"Did you almost cum like that, hmm?" It's a hot little taunt. "Almost cum from having your pussy slapped like that? Bet you did. Don't sweat about it, English girl. Wouldn't be the first bitch I tamed that way."
The knife is brought back, carefully in its sheath, and Valeria moves to the side to regard the camera with a mocking laugh.
"Don't worry, Ghost. I'm not gonna run your girl through. But I left all my toys behind, so, gotta improvise, no?"
The handle of the knife slides into her with an almost insulting wetness.
Valeria screws her on it, fucks it in and out of her like it's a dildo. Izna's back arches, and despite herself, her toes curl in her boots. The knife is moved faster, nudges at her sweet spot. Izna can't help moaning for the woman in front of her, despite the cruelty, the fact that she knows Valeria won't let her cum like this. The noise that her body makes with the hilt inside is shameful, the way the sicaria wanted it to be.
"See how good she takes it, lucky fucking bastard, I'd love to fuck her ass too."
Izna is slowly falling towards the edge when Valeria stops. Her thumb strokes at Izna's clit for a few seconds, works her right up to that agonising precipice before the woman goes back to her nipples and suckles until Izna is clenching down around the knife hilt in desperation for something more to happen to her.
Suddenly the other woman is fisting her hair, and Izna grunts as Valeria gets to her feet, leaving the knife handle inside her.
"Open your mouth and stick out your tongue," Valeria orders.
Izna wrenches herself away, refusing to let the other woman get what she wants. Her reward is pain as her hair is pulled back, eyes forced to meet the sicaria's.
"Stick your fucking tongue out, or I'll fucking cut it out," Valeria threatens.
Izna has never had sex with a girl.
She's never gone down on anyone who wasn't packing. She knows what feels good for another woman, but this is the last thing she ever expected to be her first time with another woman.
So when Valeria shoves her head between the sicaria's thighs, she doesn't know what to do. There's a tart taste on her tongue, and a responding moan from the woman above her. Izna lets her mind empty. She barely hears the words that are being growled at her or acknowledges the ache in her jaw.
Valeria is mocking her, she can tell that much from the tone of the woman's voice. Her hair is balled up painfully in her fist, and Izna can just about obey her orders to get Valeria to cum quick on her tongue.
She's almost suffocated by the squeeze of Valeria's thighs, mouth forced up against the woman's clit again and again until she's finally released.
Izna falls back against the wall, panting at the sudden rush of air. Relief floods her, relief that she can breathe, can see, relief that it’s over for the moment.
There's a rustle of clothing, and then Valeria is kneeling down with her again, grabbing her jaw. "Not bad," she coos. "But you need some practise, you know? It needs work."
Before Izna can speak, Valeria's fingers are on her clit again and drawing rapid circles that have her clenching down around the knife handle.
"You never ate a pussy before?" the sicaria taunts. "Been sucking cock the whole time, huh?” Her mocking smile is turned to the camera behind them. “How the fuck does she fit that thing in her mouth, English? She just gag and pass out?"
Izna feels herself start to float, even as Valeria ducks her head and begins to lap at her. The knife handle is still deep inside her, and Valeria starts to fuck her on it, alternating between sucking Izna's clit and thrusting the knife handle in and out. A few seconds of each, back and forth. It becomes a constant rise and fall, never quite enough to get her to where she wants. Panting, Izna's head falls back, eyes fluttering shut. She almost wishes she was being suffocated again, forced between Valeria’s legs. It would be less torture than feeling that relentless ebb and flow of pleasure that never, ever crests into something satisfying. She thinks it might break her.
Iz fears it most of all, that she’ll break under Valeria’s thumb.
“Men don’t fucking know how to fuck like this,” Valeria tells her. “They think a couple seconds licking you is foreplay. You’re fucking lucky, if I had my toys? You’d be stretched out across a big bed for the next five hours, ‘til I made that pretty voice beg.”
She grabs Izna’s face again.
“Beg for your Ghost, and I might give you some fucking mercy.”
Spurred on by spite, for the moment, Izna bites her lip and keeps her mouth shut, refusing to give Valeria the satisfaction.
“Fine,” the sicaria sneers, “be a fucking bitch.”
If Valeria shut up for a fucking second, Iz can pretend that it's Simon playing with her, torturing her like this. Endurance is one of their favourite games, and this isn’t the longest she’s ever gone without being allowed to cum. Fuck, sometimes she does it to herself.
She remembers the time she sent a video of herself masturbating to him when she was on a mission and he was on base and she didn't let herself cum on video, she waited just to wind him up, and when she got back home he had fucked her so hard, in bed, in the shower-
Valeria slaps her thigh. "No no no, English girl, you stay right here, can't run from me in your head."
Three more punishing slaps are given to her clit, forcing her to hiss in shock.
"You run away from me like that, I might have to spill some blood," Valeria warns coldly. "You're stuck here, with me. I'm not going to let you pretend you're having rough sex with your Ghost, don't fucking think I'll let you forget."
A hand finds her throat and squeezes gently. Izna gags, just as the knife handle is slipped free and Valeria's fingers push into her instead. She's worked up once again, until the sounds filling the room are desperate and pathetic.
"Is that it?" Valeria mocks. "That all you can take, huh? Gonna tap out on me? Fucking pathetic bitch. Too bad. We're just getting started." She gets up again and reaches for Izna's hair. "Tongue out, that's it."
Her tongue is digging into her teeth, and Valeria's fucking herself on Izna's mouth. She lets herself go blank again, mind emptying to take her away from here.
The door cracks open. Alejandro Vargas appears in the open doorway.
Valeria is dragged away from her, letting Izna breathe clean air. Her shouts and threats fill the inside of the aircraft. Izna comes back to herself for just long enough to feel ashamed before the familiar scent of Ghost is filling her lungs and a warm bulk is covering her.
The softness of his cloak shields her from the red light of the camera above her, and the smell of his soap, his sweat, all the things that bring her comfort, they’re enough to make her shake in the relief that passes over her.
She feels her eyes sting, tears filling them.
"Simon," Izna whispers.
"Shhh, Izzie," he's brushing fingers through her hair, "I've got you, love."
She lets herself go blank again, but this time the world goes dark.
Izna wakes up in a hospital bed.
She wakes up and immediately sees, through her exhausted haze, the large bulk of Simon Riley slumped in an uncomfortable chair beside her. Balaclava on, greasepaint smudged around his eyes. His breathing is slow and even. He's clearly been there for hours, dozed off on her left.
When she sits up, he stirs, blinking himself awake. Those dark eyes meet hers, and Izna sees fear in them, something she can never remember having seen before. And he doesn’t look away. He leans forward, even, just for a second, then pulls away like he thinks being near her will burn her.
"Iz," he whispers.
The memory of him and Alejandro shoving through the door and rescuing her plays back in her mind on repeat. The reminder of his cloak around her, his arms holding her tight and keeping her safe, it rushes back.
Her eyes water.
"Simon," she breathes.
His hands lift, almost trembling a little.
"You're ok."
His voice cracks.
"You're ok?"
Iz smiles. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Promise."
Simon's throat bobs. "We saw. Through the camera, what she was doing to you."
Iz winces. "Yeah. Not what I wanted."
"I never thought it was." His hand flutters onto the edge of her bed, grasping a bar. "She was going to kill you."
Iz touches his wrist. "I'm still here." When there's no response, she lifts his hand, and carefully places it above her heart. "See?"
His pulse flutters against hers. "Yeah."
"I'm still here," she repeats. "She didn't take me."
He nods, his dark eyes fixed on her. Izna reaches out for him, and Simon reaches back, arms wrapping around her. The comfort of his warmth washes over her, and her eyes flutter shut as she presses her head against his heart.
It's not quite healing. Her body doesn't quite feel like her own. But being held by Simon Riley, it brings her back into her own skin.
Two weeks later, Izna has been in therapy since she was discharged from hospital. Price has insisted on it, refused to allow her back on missions until she's signed off by the therapist. It's a private practice, paid for by 141. No military therapy for her.
So Izna drifts between home, the clinic and her parents' house. On day 15, the doorbell goes while she's home alone at her parents'.
"Present for you," Simon says when Iz opens the door to find him on the doorstep.
He's holding a blanket, enormous and incredibly soft to the touch. Iz knows what this is, he never lets anyone borrow it. Her throat closed up at the sudden ache in her chest.
"Thank you," she whispers.
"Holding up?" he asks.
She nods. "Yeah."
There's a pause.
"I can go," he offers.
Iz steps aside. "It's fine. My parents aren't home right now."
He somehow manages not to touch her, to get past her without even brushing her. And that's impressive, because the hallway isn't big and Simon Riley is.
She follows him up to her room, closing the door behind her. His head twitches towards the sound, but he makes no comment about it as he approaches her bed. Simon lays the blanket out onto the mattress. His fingers brush over it, and he keeps his back to her for a second.
"I can go," he offers again.
Her brow furrows. "I don't want you to go."
That big, broad back turns and instead she's gifted with his dark eyes.
"All right."
Izna steps into him, presses up against his chest to hear his heartbeat. Simon pauses, and then he's wrapping her in those thick arms, holding her where she needs him. Izna closes her eyes, exhaling slowly, in relief and relaxation.
"Wasn't sure what you wanted." His voice was quiet. "If you could stand to be touched."
Izna glances up at him, her heart swelling with affection. "I always want you to touch me," she tells him, nuzzling along his jaw.
His throat bobs, and after a moment, Simon reaches for the balaclava. It comes up and off, tossed aside onto her desk so he can cup her face with his big hands, tug her in for a gentle kiss. Her eyes flutter shut, a little whine escapes her lips, and Izna leans into him, her full weight, which he takes without needing to change his footing.
"Tell me what you need, Izzie," he murmurs against her mouth, almost a desperate plea that tells her how badly he wants to know.
"I'm not fragile," she pants into his lips. "I want you to touch me. I need to remember I won't break. I want it to hurt."
The door is locked.
The door is locked, and Izna is lying on her childhood bed, watching, breathless, as Simon Riley rips off her kurta and shorts, throwing them aside. Literally rips, shreds it into pieces to leave her naked beneath him. Then his t-shirt comes next, the black jeans that cling to his thick waist. His boxers, and then he's out of his boots and socks to stand in front of her, exposed. Izna breathes hard at the sight, at the nudity of Simon Riley. Then she's reaching for him, tugging him into bed with her.
He pays her nipples plenty of attention first. They're sucked into his mouth, nipped by his teeth. He rolls them under his tongue until she's shuddering in pleasure, her thighs parted wide for his cock to rub up and down her folds. With each stroke, each suck and lick, she's wetter for him. Izna feels herself come away from her body momentarily as she closes her eyes, but his thumb finds her clit and pulls her back into herself. It's accompanied by a harsh gasp of ecstasy, and his soft groans join her voice to create a chorus of pleasure.
"Fuck me," she begs. "Don't stretch me first. Fuck me so hard it hurts tomorrow. I want bruises. Please."
Those dark eyes glance down to where his big, thick cock is wet with her arousal.
"You sure?" Simon breathes.
Izna nods. "Give me the Ghost."
He pushes into her, one hand angling his cock to get it all in, and Izna moans shaky and loud as a mix of pleasure and pain echo from her lap. Then he's buried to the hilt, and he looks like he's going to pause.
"Fuck me," she demands before he can get that far.
A brief flicker of hesitation.
Then he's fucking her, deep and hard, mercilessly clapping his hips against her own. Her hands fly to his shoulders, her nails digging in as her voice cracks around a cry.
"God, always touch me," Izna begs, "please, Simon, always, touch me like you own me."
That does something to him. His voice catches, eyes meeting hers. A hand slides under her back to hold her against him, gives him a better angle to drive down deeper.
"I want you t-to fuck me like," her voice shakes, "like you're- like you've- kidnapped me."
He pulls back. "Izna-"
"It's fine it's fine," she pleads, "keep going, keep fucking me, don't stop!"
He doesn't stop, but he slows, cupping her face.
"Not tonight," he murmurs. "I know what you need, love. I can give it to you, yeah? But not tonight. We can do that another day."
Her eyes clump with tears. "Please, Simon. Please. Just- just do what I- please."
Simon kisses her, hard and rough, his hips keeping that steady, infuriating pace.
"You can have the Ghost another day," the tone is low, a warning, a promise, a threat, even, "have a day where you get fucked like a prisoner and made to feel like a fucking toy. I'll give you that." His thumb caresses her cheek. "Let me be Simon. I want to be him, tonight."
Izna exhales, wiping away a stray tear with the back of her hand. "You're not- you aren't pissed that I- I'm asking…"
His lips find her forehead. "Never."
She shudders as she cries softly. "Simon," Izna gasps, "I want you, I want you. Please…"
They're kissing again, deep and intimate, his tongue slipping past her lips as his hips speed up. Their eyes are loosely shut, and hers roll up again and again as Simon changes the angle at which he fucks her to strike at her sweet spot.
"That's it, Izzie," his voice is breathless in her ear, "that's good. Have it your way later, yeah? I'll make it hurt."
His voice is somehow gentle despite the darkness of the promise.
"Make it shameful. Painful. Make you beg for mercy. I know, I know. Know what you need. Give you back your body after it's been wrecked, yeah? Prove you're still you. Even after they fuck you over, even after they twist you up and make it like you'll never get 'em off your skin."
The words he's saying, it's like an echo of how she's been feeling since Valeria was pulled off of her. Izna hasn't asked Simon Riley about every part of his life, but the way it resonates with her, fuck, it's like a mirror. She holds him tighter.
"Yes," it comes out as a sob, "yes, fuck, I want to be me- I need to be me and- and I need to feel it all- I didn't feel it all!"
He kisses her jaw, her cheek. "Breathe for me. Breathe deep, yeah? You'll feel it. Promise."
To feel again, something that wasn't numbness, that makes Izna shiver around him, and she kisses him.
"Thank you," she sobs out, "thank you, Simon!"
He screws her into the soft fleece, shaking with every thrust as Iz clings to him. They're both hot with need, with the effort, the thickness of the emotions running under their skin. Izna is close, just needs a little more from him before she tips over that edge.
"Shhh, love," it's a dangerous weapon, his voice, "shh, let's make you feel this, yeah?"
The hand on her back sneaks between them to thumb at her clit. Abruptly she's coming, clenching up around him and shuddering to completion. Her ankles cross over his back, toes curling, and Izna pulls her boyfriend tight to her chest as she rides out her orgasm.
"Cum in me," she begs through the pleasure. "Want to feel it."
His cock twitches.
Maybe the begging was all he needed, because he's spilling deep inside her a moment later, shaking on top of her. He pulls her tightly into her, the hair on his chest damp with sweat. His lips find hers, a growl muffling into them, and then he slumps down, rolling them onto their sides.
Silence falls for a moment.
"Oh my god." Izna covers her face with her hands. "I can't fucking believe I just asked you to- Simon, I'm so, so sorry."
Her face is nuzzled. Her forehead is kissed.
"Don't," he mumbles. "S'okay. I meant it. We can do it."
Her throat bobs.
"You aren't- you aren't freaked out?" Izna whispers, her voice cracking.
Dark eyes find hers, unrelenting. "No."
She clenches her own shut. "Oh."
There's a long pause. "I know how it feels."
Izna looks at him again. She blinks, swallows.
"I'm sorry," she mumbles.
At that, he shakes his head. "Nah. Not your fault. Just, I know what helped."
Izna presses her lips together. "I'm still not signed off," she tells him. "Price won't put me on missions til I am."
Simon nods. "You mind a shitty barn in the middle of nowhere?" he asks.
Suddenly, she snorts. "Fuck off," she laughs. "You've just got a creepy serial killer location ready to make gross porn in?"
He shrugs. "I know a guy."
She slaps him on the arm. "I bet you know several, and where they hid the bodies." Izna curls into him. "Just, don't… don't look at me weird after, ok?"
Those dark eyes are deep and endless when they find hers.
"Never."