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Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, was the old adage. Grey understood its wisdom, though he wasn’t pleased with the reality of it. He offered 47 a room in the safehouse knowing full well that he was a package deal, so he was unsurprised to greet Diana Burnwood the next day with her luggage in tow. Their agreement to work together did little to melt the handler’s steely resolve towards him. She didn’t trust him and he didn’t trust her, but he accepted it. Niceties were unnecessary if she remained useful to their cause.
The room he planned to offer them was the same size as the others, though it had the largest mattress that would comfortably fit two people. He grew curious when 47 asked for a separate room instead, opting to give Diana the choice he initially offered. Grey gestured to another room around the corner and glanced at Diana as 47 walked away. He noticed an odd look on her face before she brushed past him and quietly closed the door.
Their relationship was still a mystery to Grey. He long ago waded through files documenting Diana and 47’s history with the ICA, finding no evidence for anything between them beyond a professional rapport. It was clear that 47 trusted her implicitly and Diana was invested enough to support his endeavor despite her opinions of Grey and his lieutenants. He closely observed their interactions over the next few weeks to better understand their dynamic, but it didn’t earn him the clarification he sought. Every glance and gesture between them seemed respectful and neutral, as far as he could tell.
As the team developed a routine, Grey found himself ending most nights with Diana and her laptop. They worked around each other long after 47 had gone to bed and Olivia had passed out on the couch, investigating assets, maps, and the best points of ingress for the next mission. Like him, she was willing to work well into the night to get the job done, fueled by determination and the weak flavor of thrice-reheated coffee. And she gave as good as she got with their verbal sparring matches, her tongue as sharp as her wit no matter the late hour or meaningless provocation. In the absence of trust, he reluctantly grew to respect her.
Their evening habits changed when they noticed a suspicious figure sneaking around their block for nearly a week. It was unlikely that Providence or the ICA had discovered their location, but the safehouse was in a quiet area of Berlin and there were no other tenants living in their building. They chose to err on the side of caution and maintain a lookout until the situation cleared, with Grey and 47 alternating shifts on the roof from sunset through morning.
As Grey returned from his shift one evening, he unlocked the door to see 47 facing the entrance to the kitchen. “It’s all yours,” he said, shrugging off his coat.
47 stiffened. He turned to acknowledge Grey, revealing a blushing Diana standing in front of him. He nodded impassively and exited the safehouse without another word.
“Did I interrupt something?” Grey asked dryly, his brow raised.
“No,” she muttered. She regained her composure and shifted her attention to the overworked coffee maker. “It was nothing.”
He suspected otherwise, but he kept silent. The clock struck midnight as he took her offering of coffee and settled at the old card table, choosing to sift through Olivia’s new findings instead of wandering to bed. Diana sat across from him and focused on the bright screen of her laptop, her attention never waning until the early rays of sunrise filtered into the kitchen.
There was no mention of the incident the next day, nor was there a sense of awkwardness between Diana and 47. He later appeared for his watch without issue and Grey returned to the mostly-quiet apartment to rest, the only sounds coming from the television as Olivia rested soundly on the sofa before it. He covered her with a blanket and noticed Diana appear on the other side of the room, watching him. His brow furrowed at her relaxed appearance. He had never seen her act so casual as to wear a robe around him. She looked over her shoulder and back to him, meeting his eyes for a moment before nodding once to the hallway behind her, indicating that he should follow. She didn’t wait for his response as she turned and walked back towards her room. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he slowly trailed behind her.
“This is unusual,” Grey mused as he entered her room.
“This is personal,” Diana clarified. “Close the door.”
He did as she asked and returned to stand before her, crossing his arms over his chest. The sound of the television carried on faintly behind the door. “What is it, then?”
“You’ve been watching me,” she said simply. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
Grey said nothing.
“You don’t trust me.”
“Neither do you.”
“That’s correct.” She paused. “Do you find me attractive, Lucas?”
He scoffed at her question. He spent the last few weeks watching her for intel, not with sexual desire. Though he couldn’t deny that she was a beautiful and intelligent woman, and he let his eyes roam over her figure in spite of himself. He met her confident gaze and nodded.
”Then I have a proposition for you. I’m sure you can understand the importance of stress relief, and I could certainly use the occasional distraction. I want you to fuck me, should that interest you.”
He smirked at the blunt nature of her offer. He couldn’t deny that he was intrigued by the idea—the sex would surely be entertaining, if the constant tension between them was any indication, and he was tempted to test her natural sense of control for pleasure. Still, he felt compelled to prod her about the kitchen incident the day before. “What would 47 think of your proposal?”
“We’ve never been involved, so I wouldn’t know,” Diana replied, her soft tone causing his smirk to falter. “But I would prefer this to be handled with the utmost discretion, to avoid any misunderstandings with him or Miss Hall. This is purely about sex, Lucas. Nothing less, nothing more.”
“Hmph. 'Adversity makes for strange bedfellows,' according to your bard.”
She nodded. “So, do we have an arrangement?”
Grey stared as he considered her proposal. After a moment, he quietly walked back towards the door. The handle clicked loudly as he engaged the lock and considered the empty folding chair in the corner. He moved the chair near the bed and stood once again before her, reaching casually for the belt of her robe. His fingers tugged gently at the tie until it released, letting the belt fall to the floor as he appreciated the new view. Her body was bare beneath the robe with the exception of expensive lace covering her sex. He wondered if he was really that predictable or if she was infuriatingly good at getting what she wanted.
“Are you good at taking orders, Burnwood?”
“It depends on the order,” she murmured, quirking an eyebrow.
“If you do as I say, you’ll be well-rewarded.”
“And should I refuse?” she asked, a familiar spark in her eyes.
Grey smirked. He settled in the chair and crossed his arms. “Kneel on the bed, facing me.” Diana cautiously did as she was told, kneeling comfortably on the mattress and waiting for his next instruction. “Now touch yourself,” he ordered, “and keep quiet.”
It was a bold command, but he knew she would meet his challenge. She returned his smirk and let her hands roam over her body without hesitation. Her fingers trailed over her chest and up her neck, removing the clip from her chignon and tossing it aside. Her hair fell to her shoulders as she cupped her breasts and gently rolled her nipples between her fingers, the soft peaks hardening quickly from her firm attention. She eventually drew a hand away from her breast to brush over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Her breath hitched with anticipation as she traced over her lace, lingering a moment over a dark patch teasing the increasing dampness from her arousal.
She sighed softly with relief when her fingers finally slipped beneath the waistband, the sheer material teasing glimpses of her fingers as she explored her slick folds. His dick twitched at the wet sound of her sex and the breathy moans that escaped her lips from her touch. Her eyes fluttered close as she drew her wetness over her clit, circling lightly over the sensitive nub as her other hand continued to massage her breast.
“Look at me,” Grey commanded.
Diana forced her eyes to blink open as she rubbed herself without pause. He was well-aware of his dick straining against his trousers as she abandoned her clit to tease her entrance. She watched him with a hooded eyes as her middle finger easily slipped inside. The robe shrugged off her shoulders to rest at her elbows as she began to fuck herself in front of him, pumping slowly at first before quickly increasing her pace. His face betrayed nothing as she panted closer to release, her chest blushing red with the build of her climax.
“Stop.”
She huffed in surprise at his interruption. Her eyes issued him a challenge but she slowly removed her hand from her cunt, waiting for whatever it was that he deemed her to do next. Her breathing eventually relaxed into a normal rhythm as they watched each other intently.
“Again,” he told her.
She tentatively returned to her pleasure, taking little time to add a second finger to pump inside of her. She abandoned teasing her breasts and threaded her fingers through her hair as she worked again towards the orgasm she was denied. Her soft gasps were muffled by the slick noise of her fingering herself as her hips thrusted forward to meet her hand. Her chest flushed once more from her efforts when Grey’s sudden voice broke her concentration.
“Stop.”
Diana jerked to a halt and glared at him as she caught her breath. He reached for her abandoned robe belt and stood in front of her, placing the belt over her glaring eyes as a blindfold. He took his time securing a comfortable knot and sat again in the chair, this time leaning closer to her and resting his elbows on his knees. Her mouth was pressed firmly into a thin line as she waited for him to speak.
“Again.”
Again, she wasted no time in touching herself, and again he waited until she was close to finishing to capture her attention.
“Stop.”
Grey chuckled quietly as Diana begrudgingly obeyed his order. She groaned and crossed her arms in frustration, her body on edge from his repeated delay of her release. He waited briefly for her to calm before leaning forward to place his hands on her hips, her skin prickling with excitement beneath his sudden calloused touch. She moaned at his warm breath blowing against her lace as his hands moved slowly up her sides. She quickly uncrossed her arms to allow him passage to her breasts, her mewls growing louder as he gently squeezed them and lightly brushed her nipples. He pulled away when she grew too noisy from his teasing.
“Oh, for God’s sake!“ she hissed.
He stood and unbuckled his belt, catching her attention with the buckle as it clanked open. “Turn around,” he murmured. She maneuvered as he requested and shivered when his hand trailed lightly down her spine. “Put your arms behind your back.”
He worked her robe into a loose tie over her forearms, binding them together in a comfortable position. It wasn’t as secure as rope, but it would work fittingly for its intended purpose. He pulled her close and exhaled sharply as she backed into the bulge in his pants. He let her rub against his clothed dick for a moment before retreating and swatting her arse, causing her to gasp sharply in pleasure. He caressed the reddening mark and pulled her close again, his breath hot against her cheek as he spoke in a low voice.
“If you can’t keep quiet, our little game ends. Understood?”
“Yes,” Diana rasped.
“Good.”
She arched her back and stifled a moan at the sharp contact of his palm. He tested his own patience as he edged her further, letting her grind on him briefly between swats on her arse or teasing her breasts. His will held strong until he slipped his hand beneath her lace and felt the soaking mess he had made of her. She barely enjoyed the roughness of his hand before he guided her to lay forward on the bed. He freed his cock and pulled her hips roughly to him, pushing her soaked underwear aside and filling her desperate cunt with ease. She burrowed her face in the sheets to muffle her relief as he started a slow and torturous pace, alternating hard, sudden thrusts with the pleasurable sting of his hand until he gave in to the speed that she craved and she finally came with a strangled cry. Her body trembled beneath him, tempting him to follow suit, but his thrusts remained unrelenting despite the vice grip of her warmth. He swiftly carried her to a second orgasm and then nearly to another, feeling his endurance wane as her walls clenched him tightly for the release of his seed. He withdrew before she could tempt him further, steeling himself for a moment before he could continue.
“Don’t you dare stop,” Diana whispered hotly, wriggling against him in protest. She looked utterly disheveled before him with her hair spread wildly on the sheets and skin glowing with a light sheen of sweat. It was a sight he was quickly growing to appreciate, having unravelled the infamous handler by his commands.
“Patience, Burnwood," he growled. He swatted her rosy arse and swiftly buried himself to the hilt, smirking at the sound of her undoing.
"I never said we were finished.”