The compliment elicits another shiver, this time from elation that she’d passed the test again. Every time they’re together, she runs a gauntlet, and every time she comes out stronger for it.
“Thank you, Sir. I hope it marks so I can remember it.”
Without dermal regenerators, scarring is a certainty rather than a possibility and Chapel likes carrying his marks on her body. She likes looking at them and knowing she’s been possessed by someone.
She wears them well. No one's come blustering to his door about her sullied honor. They would be the ones committing an indignity against her, at this point. It's within her capability to put a stop to anything he does to her, whether they think that's a safe word or a phaser at point blank range. Christine wants this. He's dedicated himself to ensuring she needs it.
Musing at her back, he runs those featherlight fingertips over another thin, settling scar, mirrored on the opposite shoulder.
"Come to bed with me." Lorca noses at the nape of her neck. Fingers raking into her hair, he guides her head to the side to lay a hungry kiss to her throat.
This is her reward for taking the pain. The pain is intwined with the intimacy of it and she never has one without the other - she never has this from him without the sting of a hand or the sharp edge of a knife. Other people aren't the same. Neither of them are faithful - the relationship has always been open - but there is no one that can give her what Gabriel gives her.
"I want it," she assures him, voice lower and hungrier now that he's kissing her and they've moved past patching wounds and into somewhat else. This part is all the sweeter after the pain and the self-control on her part.
"You have me," he assures her. Her choice. From the moment they met, every step they take has been her choice. (Her fault.)
She has him, and he owns her. Permanently. She can walk away in every sense but a legal one. That's what matters in the eyes of Duplicity. He'll never wear a plain leather bracelet again, nor will she be dressed down in such a collar, regardless of what esteem she holds him in. He pays his debts.
Lorca gets to his feet, her hair falling through his fingers. He remained clothed for the session; he enjoys having her undress him, an attendant to her lord. He ushers her out of the bathroom, giving her the lead down the stairs to his bedroom.
Chapel doesn't sleep in Gabriel's bedroom. That is a place she is invited to visit for a while and then she leaves afterwards when prompted to go. It makes it a sacred place for her, a special place, and once they cross the threshold she feels wanted and treasured. She thinks that she will always feel that way in this room.
They have a ritual to this and Chapel doesn't have to be prompted to start working on the buttons of his shirt, taking care with each one as she slips them through the buttonholes. No mistakes. No room for tearing things.
"Thank you for letting me serve," she says, smiling now that the harsher side of their evening is done.
"You make a man feel like a king," he indulges himself by saying, a glow of approval cast down at her. Christine knows her place. Accepting it fulfills her. Finding purpose in their designations has brought them both prosperity. That's the greatest truth. It's what she's left with, what will still feed and house and care for her, once he peels his falsehoods away.
He hopes he doesn't take her too long to realize it. He's become accustomed to this mutual luxury.
That makes Chapel smile and when she finishes unbuttoning his shirt, she pushes it back off his shoulders and folds it with precision; Gabriel doesn't like mess and part of what she enjoys about serving him is paying attention to the smallest details that will please him and that will make him feel good about being with her. When she returns, she puts her hand to his belt and undoes it, relishing in the sound of it.
"I'm always happy to serve."
She is. The others might not understand it but the others don't need to know what she does in her bedroom and what she does in her private affairs with Gabriel.
He doesn't take his eyes off her for a single second, carving this memory into lasting relief. Her precision, her comfort with herself and him, the dutifulness with which she satisfies his preferences. He'll miss it if she decides he no longer deserves it. He'll get over it. He might raise a little hell if she takes what he taught her about herself and gives it to someone else.
The unpredictability of it electrifies him. Lorca swipes her hair behind her ear as she unbuckles his belt. His cock twitches, so close to her lovely fingers that before long may wish to never touch him again.
"Then serve me," he implores, the rake of his voice warm as he traces his knuckles along the line of her jaw. "On your knees."
Chapel sinks to her knees effortlessly. The affection he'd given in the form of his tucking her hair behind her ear is treasured by her, something she will tuck away because while she doesn't feel as if she gets scraps from him, she does feel as if affection in the traditional manner is always a gift.
Once on her knees, she makes quick work of his pants and pulls them down enough that she can see his cock. She normally asks if she's allowed to touch but she's eager just now and she strokes her fingers along the length of him without asking first.
Not tonight. He's going to have her how he wants her, and grant her the same courtesy. Christine doesn't know this might be the last time. Her ignorance hasn't been this acutely tantalising since she signed their first contract. If she senses something is different, she'll find out why soon enough.
Between now and then, he won't give her the chance to take him for granted.
He stiffen at her touch, offering a low hum of approval. His fingers card through her hair. She can have him how she wants him, with one condition: "Look at me."
Chapel tips her head up to look at him, blue eyes wide. She doesn't stop touching him, wrapping a hand around his cock, but she doesn't go further than that. A little bit of eagerness has been forgiven, for now, but she doesn't want to push her luck. She knows what their relationship is and how it works.
"Yes, Sir? How am I allowed to touch tonight?"
She's eager enough that she licks her bottom lip but otherwise, she keeps eye contact and remains still.
Lorca's adoration reads as pride. Those he adores, he's molded; in the moments they are perfect to him, it's because they're perfect for him. A soldier who lives by his command, a lover who dies for his caress.
Kneeling, awaiting his order, Christine is a reflection of both.
"With your mouth. And your hand." A thought occurs. This has been an exemplary start. It begets a memorable finish. "Just one. I want the other between your legs."
Chapel rises up on her knees a little to be able to touch herself while she touches him and she wraps her hand around his cock while slipping the other between her legs. It doesn't shock her that she's already wet because any time she does this with Gabriel, she gets turned on long before she has a touch that you could consider "good" or "arousing" in the traditional sense.
She sighs a little as her fingers glide against her but she doesn't focus on that for long because she wants to get her mouth on him and she feels like that's the more important part of the instruction.
Chapel slides her tongue along the length of him without breaking eye contact and then draws him into her mouth, sucking lightly.
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no subject
Date: 2024-07-15 02:02 pm (UTC)“Thank you, Sir. I hope it marks so I can remember it.”
Without dermal regenerators, scarring is a certainty rather than a possibility and Chapel likes carrying his marks on her body. She likes looking at them and knowing she’s been possessed by someone.
“I love all your little marks on me.”
no subject
Date: 2024-07-15 04:43 pm (UTC)Musing at her back, he runs those featherlight fingertips over another thin, settling scar, mirrored on the opposite shoulder.
"Come to bed with me." Lorca noses at the nape of her neck. Fingers raking into her hair, he guides her head to the side to lay a hungry kiss to her throat.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-15 08:54 pm (UTC)"I want it," she assures him, voice lower and hungrier now that he's kissing her and they've moved past patching wounds and into somewhat else. This part is all the sweeter after the pain and the self-control on her part.
"I just want you. I want what you give me."
no subject
Date: 2024-07-15 09:44 pm (UTC)She has him, and he owns her. Permanently. She can walk away in every sense but a legal one. That's what matters in the eyes of Duplicity. He'll never wear a plain leather bracelet again, nor will she be dressed down in such a collar, regardless of what esteem she holds him in. He pays his debts.
Lorca gets to his feet, her hair falling through his fingers. He remained clothed for the session; he enjoys having her undress him, an attendant to her lord. He ushers her out of the bathroom, giving her the lead down the stairs to his bedroom.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-16 12:51 am (UTC)They have a ritual to this and Chapel doesn't have to be prompted to start working on the buttons of his shirt, taking care with each one as she slips them through the buttonholes. No mistakes. No room for tearing things.
"Thank you for letting me serve," she says, smiling now that the harsher side of their evening is done.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-16 03:04 am (UTC)He hopes he doesn't take her too long to realize it. He's become accustomed to this mutual luxury.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-16 08:03 pm (UTC)"I'm always happy to serve."
She is. The others might not understand it but the others don't need to know what she does in her bedroom and what she does in her private affairs with Gabriel.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-16 10:31 pm (UTC)The unpredictability of it electrifies him. Lorca swipes her hair behind her ear as she unbuckles his belt. His cock twitches, so close to her lovely fingers that before long may wish to never touch him again.
"Then serve me," he implores, the rake of his voice warm as he traces his knuckles along the line of her jaw. "On your knees."
no subject
Date: 2024-07-17 12:18 am (UTC)Once on her knees, she makes quick work of his pants and pulls them down enough that she can see his cock. She normally asks if she's allowed to touch but she's eager just now and she strokes her fingers along the length of him without asking first.
Is it a mistake?
no subject
Date: 2024-07-17 12:38 am (UTC)Between now and then, he won't give her the chance to take him for granted.
He stiffen at her touch, offering a low hum of approval. His fingers card through her hair. She can have him how she wants him, with one condition: "Look at me."
no subject
Date: 2024-07-17 02:17 am (UTC)"Yes, Sir? How am I allowed to touch tonight?"
She's eager enough that she licks her bottom lip but otherwise, she keeps eye contact and remains still.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-17 02:51 am (UTC)Kneeling, awaiting his order, Christine is a reflection of both.
"With your mouth. And your hand." A thought occurs. This has been an exemplary start. It begets a memorable finish. "Just one. I want the other between your legs."
no subject
Date: 2024-07-17 07:03 pm (UTC)She sighs a little as her fingers glide against her but she doesn't focus on that for long because she wants to get her mouth on him and she feels like that's the more important part of the instruction.
Chapel slides her tongue along the length of him without breaking eye contact and then draws him into her mouth, sucking lightly.