Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Just A Game	By : MoreCharahPlease Category: 1 through F > Chuck Views: 68647 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own CHUCK or its characters. I am not making any money from this or any of my CHUCK stories.

Chapter List
- 27
- 28
- 29
Notes: It has been way too long. Without going into too much detail, I had a lot of doubts about this story and continuing it for my own reasons, and I let this story sit around for awhile. And then I finally told my doubts to stfu and I continued writing. So I'm back. Sorry I didn't update for so long. Thanks for still reading and leaving me messages, everyone who did.
Disclaimer: I do not own CHUCK or its characters and I'm not making any money from this.
I felt bad abandoning Chuck the next morning, leaving him fast asleep in bed as I carefully extracted myself from his embrace and pulled out of the tangled mess of sheets we’d practically massacred the night before.
But I had to pack and prepare for the rest of the weekend. Check-in time was at 11, Chuck had said, and I didn’t want to be late. Truthfully, I wanted to take advantage of every minute of this extremely short vacation that I’d have with him.
I ate the moment I got home, downed some coffee, and quickly climbed into the shower, planning what I would wear and bring as I washed so that by the time I got back into my bedroom, I could pack as fast as possible.
Unfortunately, even with my planning, it took me forever to decide what I wanted to bring. Even just getting dressed was a struggle.
But then my phone had buzzed at 10:30 when I was still rifling through my closet. Chuck texted me.
Check-in time is at 11 but you don’t have to rush or anything. Whenever you can get to the hotel since we both got a bit of a late start. ;) I snorted at that. I saw he was typing more and I waited, sitting on the bed next to my suitcase. When you get to the hotel, tell the concierge your name is Frances Stevens. Make sure to get two keys to the room. Drop your bags in the suite, then hasten down to the bar. I’ll be there waiting for you.
Frances Stevens? I decided not to send it, though, and instead bit my lip and typed something else. Yes, sir.
One more thing. You don’t know me.
So.
Role play.
Chuck Bartowski never failed to impress. This was going to be even more fun than I’d originally thought. Which was saying something, because I’d planned on this being a really fun weekend.
I texted him back an affirmative and then I got back to my closet. Something formal, just in case, things to lounge in. Comfortable clothes for going out in public, a bikini.
By the time I had my life all figured out, I checked the time and saw it was already 11.
“Shit!”
Not worrying about whether or not I forgot something, aware of how close by the hotel was and that I could simply come back and grab whatever I’d forgotten, I ran down to my car and took off.
I just barely resisted the urge to look up Frances Stevens on my phone while I waited at a stoplight. Anyway, how much of a good example was I as a detective with the LAPD if I was caught driving while Googling?
I didn’t typically like to abuse my power, but as I pulled in and handed the valet my keys and a tip, I shifted my blazer just enough for him to see a flash of my badge. He did a good job playing it off, but I knew I’d made my point. Better be careful with my BMW, kid.
The concierge swept into view from the back right as I approached the desk. He smiled politely enough and greeted me.
“Checking in?”
“Yes. Frances Stevens.”
I watched to see if his features changed at all when I said the name. I wondered if these people knew what was going on or if they were just doing their jobs. Was this that sort of hotel? Where men brought mistresses, couples had affairs, and role players…well, role played? Were the staff aware of all of it, if so?
I looked at his name tag. I recognized the name. Mr. Clarke. He was the manager who’d sent us free treats the last time. I wondered if he knew what was going on here—if he knew that Thurston’s apparently good friend Chuck Bartowski was behind this Frances Stevens business.
If so, he wasn’t flinching or blinking at all. This guy was insanely good at his job if he knew who she was. Or at least…who she was meeting here. “Oh, Miss Stevens! Welcome to the Thurston, Los Angeles. Terribly sorry, but Mr. Thurston is away this weekend. Urgent business at the hotel in San Francisco.”
“Oh. I…hope it isn’t anything serious.”
“No, no. But it did require his attention. He sends his regrets about not welcoming you personally.”
Really?
What was happening? Was everyone in on this? How much did hotel tycoon “Wally” Thurston know about what Chuck was doing? And who he was bringing? Did the staff of the hotel know Chuck was bringing a women here to screw? That was kind of embarrassing…I didn’t like that it made me feel a bit ashamed. It was sex. There was nothing to be ashamed about. Everyone had their needs, and… Oh he was talking to me.
“How many keys would you like, Miss Stevens?”
“Two,” I said easily. That much Chuck had coached me on. “Two, please.”
“Absolutely.” Mr. Clarke didn’t smirk or anything, that same polite, professional look on his face as he reached down and produced two key cards for her. “Two keys, Miss Stevens.”
“Thank you.”
“Your room is 9023. Ninth floor. Beautiful view of downtown. If you’d prefer, we can get you on the ocean side, but you’ll only really see a sliver of it in the distance.”
“No, a view of the city is perfect. I’m sure. Thank you.”
“Of course. Anything you need—anything at all—ask for me personally when you ring the front desk. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
“Thank you…Mr. Clarke.”
“You’re welcome. Enjoy your stay.”
“Yes…um…Thank Mr. Thurston for me, please.”
“I certainly will. Would you like help with your bags?”
“No, I should be alright. Thank you.”
I only had the one. It was big but I could handle it blindfolded.
He beamed at me as I moved around the desk towards the elevators. I felt a little bit like I was in an episode of The Twilight Zone, honestly. How did Thurston know who Frances Stevens was? Did Chuck tell him about the role play? How much had Chuck orchestrated this morning in the few hours we were apart while I ate, showered, and packed?
As always, I realized something was definitely wrong with me…since I was pretty turned on by the image of Chuck calling Thurston, or Mr. Clarke who was obviously the tycoon’s right hand man, at least in the LA branch. I could just see the nerd at his nerdiest, telling them his plan, what they had to do…
Or maybe I was overthinking things. Maybe I should just enjoy since Chuck seemed to do all the work. I found all of these surprises exceedingly sexy. By the time I even met Chuck, I was already going to be turned on. And I had to pretend I didn’t know him? This would be interesting…
I gasped as I finally pushed into the suite. It was a corner suite, and it looked bigger than the last one we’d stayed in. Much bigger. Maybe Chuck had saved Thurston’s life and he just hadn’t told me? Because the man loved him if he gave this suite to him for as long as he wanted it.
It was almost too damn fancy.
Chuck was waiting downstairs, though, and it was already 11:35. I should really go down there.
So I put my suitcase in the bedroom, deciding not to change. Instead, I left my badge in the zipper pocket of the suitcase and did my best to fluff my hair out a bit.
“Frances Stevens. I’m Frances Stevens,” I breathed, looking in the mirror.
My maroon blazer over a black flouncy blouse and tight black leather pants would hopefully impress this man I wasn’t supposed to know who’d be waiting down in the bar.
Or…not waiting. Since he didn’t know any Frances Stevens.
This was going to be fun.
But I also didn’t quite know where the bar was in this 14 story hotel. I passed by a directory map on my way out of the elevator room and slid to a halt, sweeping my gaze over it.
There was a bar on the roof, a bar out by the pool, a bar on the 10^th floor. And the main bar behind the lobby, attached to the hotel’s main restaurant. Since there were 3 restaurants in this hotel alone. Chuck made himself a really, really powerful friend, I decided, as I walked around to the bar that was on this floor.
I figured he had to be in the main bar. Right?
And the moment I stepped inside, I knew I was right. Because there he sat at the bar, completely alone. In fact, nobody was here except for a couple that was all the way on the other side of the room, sitting close, sipping martinis. They were in their own little world.
Chuck was in nice black slacks, a charcoal colored button-up, a tie…and God, he’d rolled the sleeves up. He knew I loved that. Had he done it on purpose, I wondered? He looked so sleek and sexy.
I walked up to the bar, a good six feet away from him and caught the bartender’s eye.
She came over to me immediately.
“Bloody mary, please.”
With a nod and a smile, she moved away to make it and I slid onto the barstool. I counted two between me and Chuck. I thought that was a good enough distance since he was supposed to be a stranger.
We sat in silence for awhile, even as the bartender set my drink down and gave Chuck another of whatever he’d ordered. Something decidedly less middle-of-the-day than a bloody mary. But I wasn’t going to grill him for it.
He’d had a long, hard week. Between working at the precinct for me and still doing installs for the Buy More here and there when Big Mike begged him hard enough, the poor guy had most likely been worked to the bone.
Was I supposed to open up the conversation? Was it supposed to be me? Or was he going to say something? I’d never done this before. And I was a little bit frazzled, my crotch a little sensitive to even the slightest movement, which meant I was pretty turned on.
Just this entire concept of role playing, of sitting next to him but having to pretend I didn’t know him, had turned me on.
I wondered if he’d known that would happen, if he’d planned this to make it happen.
And I got even more turned on. Charles Bartowski, the Mastermind. It was a really really good look for him.
I saw him pat his pocket out of the corner of my eye. And then his other pocket. Then he picked up his suit jacket from where he’d had it draped over the stool next to him and shook it a little.
“Shit,” he breathed. Then he looked up at the bartender. “Listen. Uh…I’m a damn fool. I left my wallet in my hotel room. Would you mind if I went up and grabbed it quickly?” I was surprised by the English accent. It was a clipped accent, and I pegged this particular one somewhere west of London. Not Cockney, but not posh by any means. I wondered where he’d picked it up.
The bartender paused. “You could bill your room, Sir.”
“Oh, right. I-I can’t. See, my patron wouldn’t be too happy about two gin and tonics showing up when he pays my expenses for the trip.” He winced. “Can I—” “Add it to mine,” I interrupted. I knew Chuck had done this on purpose, and I had waited only long enough for him to start getting a little uncomfortable, his accent starting to get a little rushed, less flawless than it had been before. I was rather naughty like that.
The bartender gave me a look. It was very clearly a warning look that said ‘Are you sure about this?’ I nodded and smiled. “Add it to my tab.”
“Yes, miss. Certainly.” She smiled back.
“And get him another gin and tonic, please. He seems like he can use one.”
The bartender gave me a small smirk that Chuck couldn’t see, a bit of a joke exchanged between us, and then she moved away to fix Chuck’s drink.
My new companion chuckled and sat back on the stool that he’d climbed off of to search for his wallet and explain himself to the clever bartender. “Do I look that bad?” he asked, his accent back to its flawlessness. Did he practice or something?
“A little.”
“Damn. And here I thought I looked suave and debonair. Now I know why so many people were staring when I walked into the lobby this morning.”
I smirked and turned back to my bloody mary, dipping my celery stick into the tomato juice and bringing it up to take a bite, chewing slowly.
“Thank you for saving me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Am I?”
“No.”
“Damn again.”
I liked this a lot. And I purposefully didn’t look at him, instead smirking as I sipped my drink, licking my lips.
“My wallet really is up in my room. It will take me a minute to go up and grab it. I can pay you back.”
“It isn’t necessary. I can afford it.”
“Please. You see, I don’t want my forgetfulness to give you a bad impression of my fellow countrymen.” He picked up his jacket and moved it to another stool so that it wasn’t between us.
“Hm. Wouldn’t you like me to think of you the next time I meet an Englishman?”
He stared at me for a moment, then let me see a glimpse of his charming, crooked smile. There was so much confidence in it this time, like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like he flirted with women in bars all the time.
It was ridiculously hot.
“That does sound rather nice when you put it that way.”
I still didn’t look at him, sipping my drink. The bartender put his gin and tonic in front of him and he thanked her. I could see she was charmed by him, too, even though she was probably wondering if he’d pulled a fast one. She’d probably seen people flirt at her bar a thousand times over, she was probably incredibly observant, and she was probably really good at minding her own business. The perfect bartender.
She grabbed a cloth and moved out from behind the bar to take care of the tables.
And that was when I heard Chuck speak again.
“Your mother isn’t with you?”
I blinked down at my drink, wracking my brain as quickly as possible. Had he said something about a mother? Did I miss that somehow?
No. No, all he said was Frances Stevens, two keys, and I didn’t know him. That was it. Nothing about a mother. He was throwing me a curve ball, seeing how I reacted. It was a challenge. It lit a flame between my thighs. This was so fun.
I turned and gave him a severe eyebrow raise. “My mother?” I paused. “Do you know her?”
He threw a quick and subtle glance over his shoulder then climbed off of his barstool and smoothly slid onto the one next to mine, pulling his drink with him. He swirled it slowly and I was a little mesmerized by his wrist, the muscles shifting in his forearm. I was hooked on this game.
“I know you as well, actually.”
“Interesting. I don’t believe we’ve met,” I said, keeping my voice clipped, putting an invisible wall between us. Whomever Frances Stevens was, I thought she wouldn’t appreciate the current conversation. Or…at least, I didn’t think she was supposed to.
“Let me rephrase. I don’t know you personally, I’m afraid. I’ve seen your pictures in the newspapers. Tabloids. Your mother’s fortune has made celebrities out of both of you.” He sipped his drink and set it down again. I followed suit.
Who the hell was Frances Stevens, and who was her mother? I read into the context a bit. He mentioned my mother and her fortune. Didn’t say anything about my father. Perhaps Frances Stevens’ mother got her wealth from a husband who passed away. That sounded plausible.
“Well, I’m afraid my mother and her fortune aren’t here. I came alone.”
I saw him nod in my peripheral. He swirled his drink again, the ice cracking, clinking against the glass. “Hm. Pity. I would have liked to meet the infamous Jessie Stevens. By all accounts a singularly riveting woman.”
“Knowing my mother…” I turned towards him, my knee brushing against his. I hadn’t meant to, but since it happened, I played with it. I let him see me slide my eyes down his lithe body, then back up again, sipping my bloody mary with a glint of appreciation in my gaze. “…She wouldn’t have minded meeting you. I’m having a hard time minding myself, Mister…?” I paused, waiting for him to fill me in on his name.
He didn’t fill me in, and I inwardly smirked. So we were playing that game.
“See, unlike my mother and I, you aren’t in the newspapers or tabloids. So I’m afraid I don’t know who you are.” I paused again. “I’m sure I would’ve remembered you.”
I made sure he knew I was flirting.
He grinned down at his drink, then sipped it, setting it down again. “No. No, I’m not in the newspapers. Or the tabloids. I don’t believe I would be. I’m an industrialist, you see. We don’t get our names in the papers unless we get sued. And I’m very careful not to do anything that might get myself sued.”
“You mean you’re careful not to get caught.”
He laughed and turned to look at me. His face told me everything I needed to know. I was doing my job. He was very interested in Frances Stevens.
“Your name?” I asked again, lifting an eyebrow to let him know I was very aware of how long it was taking him to tell me. “Or is it Mr. Industry?”
Chuck paused, a crooked, confident grin on his face. Then he sipped his drink again. “If you’d like to call me that, you can. In fact, I’m not sure I’d mind no matter what you called me.”
The fire in my groin roared. But I played it cool. “How about Mr. Deflector?”
He laughed again. “John. Robie.” He looked at me for a long time and stuck his hand out.
I took it and we held hands for awhile. His hand was large and warm in spite of the cool drink he’d been holding. It was a hand I knew well, but with this game we were playing, it felt new. New enough that it sent shocks of pleasure through my body.
“John Robie.” I let it drip off my tongue, between my lips, like honey. I still held his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Robie.”
“This is the part where I say ‘the pleasure is all mine’. I don’t always mean it but I do this time. Truly.” It was charming. He was charming. I was eating this up with a spoon. I wanted to drag him behind the bar and dry hump him until he came under me.
“Charming,” I said. “Are you this charming with everyone you meet in hotel bars?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t pay enough attention to what I do.”
“Oh, you should.”
“Is that so?”
I belatedly realized I was still holding his hand and I gently pulled it back, picking up my drink and taking a long gulp. I was getting a little too flushed, hot under the collar. I just needed him badly. As great as this game was. As wet as it was making me…I could feel just how wet I was.
“It is. Perhaps if you’d been paying attention, you would have remembered to grab your wallet.”
He chuckled. There was still a lot of confidence in the self-deprecating look he gave me. Like he was well aware I was a woman whose intelligence and confidence rivaled his own. And he liked it a lot. A whole lot.
I decided I wanted to move this along, though. I needed to feel his cock inside of me. And I would rather do it in a bed behind closed doors rather than right here on these stools. Didn’t much like the idea of being arrested by my peers for public indecency.
He beat me to it.
“So why are you here, Miss Stevens? Without your mother?” He tapped his finger against the rim of his glass. “I always thought you two went everywhere together.”
“Not everywhere.” I shrugged, then took another bite of the celery and chewed, taking my time. “Not always.” And then I let it slide back into my glass and I drank. “She stayed in St. Tropez for business.” That seemed like something a wealthy women might do, I thought.
“And you continued on to Los Angeles for business?”
I smirked and shook my head. “Pleasure. Actually.”
His eyebrows lifted slowly. He got my meaning. I decided it was high time I made my move.
“Strange, not having my mother here. I mean, I’m all alone. Nobody here to keep me company. Nothing to do…” No one to do. I hoped he caught the implication. And I hoped he took advantage of the opening I gave him.
He didn’t.
And I thought maybe he was being naughty, pulling my chain.
The bartender was still cleaning tables across the room, not paying us any attention. So I scooted a little closer to him, our legs brushing. I propped my elbow on the bar top and leaned in.
“I bet all of this…industry…keeps you very busy.”
“Oh, it does.”
“Pity.” I trapped my bottom lip between my teeth and pulled back just a bit.
“But I’m not on a business trip, Miss Stevens.” He waited for me to look back at him before he continued. “Not right now.”
His meaning was crystal clear.
I had just asked him up to my room in not so many words, and he’d just accepted in not so many words.
The corner of his mouth tilted up in the semblance of a smile, his eyes flashing. And I saw a hint of purple mixed into his amber-colored irises. I wondered if he was buzzing as much as I was.
I slid my hand into my purse and produced one of the two room keys. Because I’d figured out the moment I had the two keys in my hand that I was supposed to give one of them to Chuck. It was how we’d get there that I was less sure about.
Feeling a bit mischievous, I put the key on the bar top. And then I slowly slid it in his direction, making sure to look straight into his eyes, letting him see and feel just how much I wanted him, underscoring it by sliding the toe of my pump under the hem of his pants and rubbing up and down his leg.
The swinging door to behind the bar thumped as the bartender stepped through it, sounding like a loud bang in my head, and nearly making me jump. Chuck did jump. Or, rather, John Robie jumped. But he covered it up quickly by laying his hand over the key and sliding it out of sight, leaning away from me.
I made eye contact with the bartender and slid gracefully to my feet, bumping his bicep with my body before stepping back. “Would you please charge the bill to my room?”
“Of course.”
“9023,” I pronounced, slowly so that Robie could hear it, memorize it. I didn’t want this to be like one of those terrible comedies where couples role play and one of them goes to the wrong room, ending up walking in on some large, middle aged hairy fellow naked or something.
Then I went into my purse and gave her a big tip.
The woman was good at what she did.
“Thank you! Have a lovely day, miss,” she said, swooping it up and disappearing it into her pocket, and I just barely saw a hint of humor in her smile before she turned away and started cleaning up behind the bar.
“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Robie.” I leaned in close so that he had to look up into my face. “Enjoy your vacation.” I made sure he got the message. I’d do everything in my power to ensure he would enjoy his vacation. Everything in my power.
I left quickly, wanting so badly to look back, wanting to know if my exiting line had the desired effect on him. Was he gaping after me? Was he smirking? Was that confident swagger of John Robie present?
But I just kept walking, put a bit of a swing to my hips, knowing his eyes were still on me until I turned the corner and walked out of sight. I didn’t stop until I got into the elevator.
And then I leaned back against the railing once the doors shut and I sucked in a long, calming breath of air. I was already so wet. I could feel it between my legs. But how long would John Robie be able to resist coming up to our room? My room. Frances Stevens’ room.
I had to keep playing the game, remember my role.
It was then that I took my phone out and finally googled Frances Stevens and John Robie. And I beamed like a wild woman once I figured it out. Of course. That was his accent. And Frances’ mother.
I was so ready to play his game.
But then I got back into my room, looking around at everything, and I wondered if I should change into something else. Did I have time? What if I went to slip into something “more comfortable” and Chuck walked in while I was changing? That would ruin the entire mood.
He’d probably laugh, and then I’d laugh. But it would break the spell of our game.
So I stayed in what I was wearing at the bar, and instead, I explored the suite.
The bed was massive and looked incredibly comfortable. And like a true sex enthusiast, I grabbed onto the metal headboard and shook it a little, testing it out so to speak. It felt very sturdy, which was good.
Smirking at how big of a dork I was, I moved to the wall oppsite the balcony. It was basically floor to ceiling windows that looked out over downtown Los Angeles. One-way glass, I assumed. These high rise hotels always had one-way glass for privacy, and there was a certain tint to it as well, which meant it was probably very thick glass.
I went into the bathroom. There was a shower, double sinks, and…
Oh.
The other suite we’d been in a few months ago hadn’t had a hot tub.
And it was pressed close to the one-way glass window in this room as well. A soak in the hot tub, plus the view of the glorious lights of Los Angeles on a Saturday night. All we’d need to complete everything was some champagne. Strawberries perhaps. Or grapes.
Thank you, Mr. Thurston.
I practically skipped back out into the main room and eyed the second balcony, the big screen TV in front of the couch, the large, comfortable looking chair in the corner, dresser that was the perfect height for…
Just as I started to let my imagination run away with me, I heard someone shuffle up to the door out in the hallway. I let out a breath and ran my hands down my front, and then I looked around. Where should I stand, where should I stand, where should I…?
I hurried over to the opposite side of the room and looked out of the glass doors that led to the balcony as I heard the beep and click of the door being unlocked by his key. The door swung open, and I heard his shoes shuffle against the floor. Then the door shut again and we were alone.
I let us both sweat for a moment, and then I turned to glance at him over my shoulder, a slow smirk growing over my face. “Mr. Robie.”
He held the key between his fingers, lifting it up by his face and giving me that confident look of his that set my blood to boiling. “Thanks for the key.”
“My pleasure.”
“Well, that is the idea.”
I turned to face him as he crossed the room, closing the distance between us. I bit my lip and watched as he slowly peeled his sports coat that he’d put back on between the bar and the suite off of his shoulders.
But as he came near enough, I quickly reached my arms around him and grabbed the coat before he could slide it all the way past his forearms, essentially trapping his arms behind his back.
I held him there, sidling up close but not touching him just yet, teasing him by biting my lip…And then I pressed just my breasts into his chest, smashing them against him slowly, wishing I wasn’t wearing my bra so that he could feel how hard my nipples were through my blouse and his shirt.
And then I twisted the jacket around his wrists to trap him further. I leaned my chin up so that our lips were centimeters apart.
“It really is a pity my mother couldn’t come to LA with me. She usually keeps me from misbehaving.”
“Describe…misbehaving,” he practically hummed.
“Do you want me to describe it, Mr. Robie? Really? Or would you rather I just show you?” I let my lips grace his chin, my tongue darting out to lick him, and my fingers dug through the material of his jacket to feel his hand, rubbing over the back of it.
“I can’t help being curious, Miss Stevens.” He surprised me with a spell of boldness, arching his back so that he could press his open mouth to my throat, licking my skin there the way I’d just done to his chin. And when he hummed again, I felt my pulse pick up. My groin was still buzzing from our role play downstairs. It hadn’t eased for even a moment since then.
“I’m not very good at controlling myself,” I breathed, biting my lip and smiling at the feeling of what he was doing to my neck.
“Well, it’s overrated anyway,” John Robie murmured against my neck, and then he shifted his face around and dotted kisses up to my ear. I let out a long breath. “You don’t have to control yourself with me.”
The way he growled it into my ear, his front rubbing against mine, made me want to tear his clothes right off his body and screw him until neither of us could walk.
“Though I wonder what exactly constitutes losing control, Miss Stevens,” he continued, tugging teasingly against my makeshift bindings around his wrists.
I finally pressed my lips to his, but it was just a feather’s touch, so light I barely felt it. Then I pulled back just enough and with as much seductive honey as I was capable of with how overwhelmingly sexy he was right now, I said, “Kiss me proper and I’ll show you, Mr. Robie.”
He leaned in until his nose brushed mine. “If I kiss you, Miss Stevens, there will be nothing proper about it.”
My body was so alive.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” I just barely managed to get out before I let go of his jacket, cupped his face, and we slammed together hard, our bodies meeting with a thump as our lips crashed, tongues battling.
Our hands grappled with clothes. Mine went straight for his belt, unbuckling it, undoing his button and zipper, burying my fingers down the front to feel him over his briefs.
Oh God, he wore briefs.
He was really into this role play.
I had to keep control, though, I had to remember to come in with my bombshell at exactly the right time.
Though…as John Robie said…control was overrated.
His growl lit a fire in my belly.
And then he had my pants undone. I giggled breathily as he grabbed my hips and hoisted me up into his arms. And not a moment later, my back was against the nearest wall next to the sliding glass doors that led out to the balcony.
He kissed me so wildly, it was almost ferocious. I felt like I was being mauled, almost. So I mauled him back, pawing at his shirt, unbuttoning it, grabbing at his tie, sticking my hands down his pants and squeezing his ass over his briefs to tug his groin against mine.
I whimpered into his lips, grinding my front shamelessly against his hardened cock.
Chuck set me down on my feet again and with one quick tug, my tight black pants were down at my knees, followed closely by my panties. He looked hungry as his eyes fastened on my sex. I could feel how wet I was for him already.
But he didn’t give me a chance to kick off my heels or my pants. Instead he pinned me to the wall with his shoulders, sucking on my neck, licking at my pulse point. All the while, he shifted against me and I heard the rustling of him shoving his pants out of the way.
His hands were on my thighs, spreading them as far as they’d go what with my pants still hindering most of my movement, and then he was flush against me, trapping me.
We kissed hard, desperation starting to flood through me.
And then his hard cock was at my entrance. His hands on my hips. He hoisted me up just enough, slid his length in me, and then he dropped me so hard against his groin that my jaw snapped shut when our bodies made contact.
“Nnnng!!! Fuck!” I hadn’t expected him to enter me so roughly, but I wasn’t complaining.
He was relentless with his thrusts, grunting, massaging my ass in one hand, holding my thigh with the other. My heels just barely touched the floor. One of them fell off.
I slapped my hand onto his ass hard but found his pants and briefs were still in place. God, he hadn’t even taken the time to push them down. He just shifted them out of the way. It spoke of his own desperation. And it was so fucking hot. Invigorating. Chuck—John Robie—slung an arm around my lower back then and took a step away so that I was practically hanging from his dick, my legs dangling down, not touching the floor, and he flattened his hand under my ass to hold me up.
I leaned my shoulders and head against the wall, holding Chuck’s shoulders, and he pounded into me long and hard, my body jerking roughly. “Oh! Oh! Ohhh!! Ohhh!!!! Hnn! Fuck, I can feel—almost—nngg I’m almost there!”
He surprised me by stepping forward again, slamming my back against the wall, burying his face under my chin, and thrusting himself up into me hard. Our bodies shook together with each stroke, and I just wrapped my arms around his shoulders, clinging, crying out it felt so good.
Then he grabbed one of my wrists and pinned it to the wall by my head, fucking me harder, faster. I was so close. Whimpers dripped from between my lips, and I needed to hold onto something, so I snaked my fingers of the hand he wasn’t pinning into his hair.
“Yes!” I cried out. “YES! Oh yes!”
I came so hard my legs jerked, my thighs tightening around his hips even as my feet dangled above the ground, pants and panties clinging, the other heel slipping to the ground to join the first one.
Chuck was breathing hard, panting into my neck, and I was still in the process of coming down from my orgasm…
This was the perfect time.
“Are you this good with all the other women, Mr. Robie?” I panted, swallowing against my dry throat.
“What other women?” he grumbled in his Cary Grant accent.
I slid down the wall just enough to turn my face and blow in his ear, feeling his body shiver against mine, and then I captured his earlobe between my teeth. I dragged my hands down his back and grabbed his ass, tugging him deeper inside of me so that we both let out soft whimpers.
“The women you fuck so you can steal their expensive jewelry.”
I felt his body jolt in surprise, and then his teeth grazed over the crook of my neck and I knew he was grinning. Chuck must’ve realized I’d finally Googled John Robie and Frances Stevens. I knew the whole mother thing, the whole plot of the film, the relationship between the jewel thief and the heiress…
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” he said, pulling back and looking me in the eye. There was something dangerous there. Something exciting and it was turning me on again. It helped that his hard cock was still buried deep inside my pussy.
“Well, my mother isn’t here, Mr. Robie. So neither are her jewels. I never had much of a taste for that sort of thing. My tastes run towards something very…different.”
I smirked down at him and shrugged, like the joke was on him.
Frances Stevens had just gotten John Robie to fuck her and she hadn’t a single pricey bauble in her possession. Did anyone ever pull one over on him before Frances Stevens did?
I smirked even harder.
But then darkness swept into his gaze, his jaw clenched, and I thought John Robie might be pretty angry with Frances Stevens. I took a deep, settling breath, so turned on I was buzzing between my legs where he was still piercing me.
And then I yelped in surprise because he turned us around and marched through the suite to the bedroom, pushing the door all the way open by thumping his shoulder against it. He ignored the way it swung to slam against the wall and kept moving until we were at the bed, and then he unceremoniously tossed me onto it.
I took him in, practically on fire. And I told myself to calm down as he swept in to tug my pants and underwear off, dropping them to the floor.
He shoved his pants and briefs down and then leaned over me, grabbing my hips and yanking me to the edge of the bed. He braced his feet braced on the floor beside the bed, his shirt hanging down, half unbuttoned, and his tie brushing against my neck as he hovered over me.
“I don’t want your mother’s jewels. I want her daughter.”
With one swift stroke, he was buried inside of me to the hilt, growling in pleasure, his jaw twitching and his eyes shutting for a moment as he composed himself. I just watched him in awe.
“Take me, Mr. Robie,” I begged. “Please. Oh God yeesss!!”
He did, fucking me hard and fast, our bodies thumping. I cried out in joy, my body so happy. But his tie kept getting in my face, so I reached up to grab onto it, using it to yank him down against me. “Fuck me,” I said through gritted teeth. “Steal my virtue, you thief.”
He groaned and thrusted slowly into me, his strokes long and rough, my body jerking with his efforts. “I told you, Miss Stevens,” he growled, propping himself up to look down at me. “I’ve read the tabloids. Nng God you’re so wet!” he couldn’t seem to help but gasp out, earning a high-pitched squeak of pleasure from me. “You’ve got no virtue left for me to steal.”
His grin was cheeky as he quickly pumped in and out of me a few times, slipping his fingers over my clitoris and rubbing.
I shivered and threw my head back, then I looked up at him with an affronted look, still unable to keep the humor from my face.
I was going to respond with something equally biting, when he continued.
“S’just how I like it.”
And then he went in hard again, fucking me so good, tilting his body in just the right way to bump against my g-spot with each thrust.
I couldn’t help it. I laughed, my voice catching in my throat as his groin thumped into mine.
“If that’s what you want,” I gasped out. “Then turn over.”
His eyes lit with humor and desire, his mouth twitching, and then he pulled out of me, his eyelids fluttering.
As he stood, he stepped out of his pants and briefs, kicking off his shoes and socks, and ripping his shirt off, popping the last few buttons. But before he could tear his tie off over his head, I sat up and grabbed his wrist.
“No, leave it. Leave it on. Please. I’ll beg if I have to.”
He tilted his head back and flashed a look of “Thank you, God” at the ceiling that made me laugh. It was such a Chuck thing for him to do, and I wondered if the role play was over.
I took my blouse off and unhooked my bra, leaving me totally naked, looking up at Chuck who was also totally naked except for the tie I’d just nearly begged him to leave on.
“On your back,” I ordered, and he lifted his eyebrows at me.
“Excuse me?” He stepped up close to the bed and leaned down, planting his palms on the mattress on either side of me, bringing his face close to mine. “I’ll do what I want, when I want. I’m not sure you realize you’re talking to the world’s foremost jewel thief. I didn’t get this title by being a particularly nice fellow.”
“Oh…You must be very dangerous,” I breathed, playing impressed, pretending I was scared at the same time. And then I rolled my eyes, dropping the act. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
He smirked. The smallest indication that he had something in mind. But before I could surmise as to what that might be, he whipped his tie off, much to my disappointment. He then grabbed me by my hip and flipped me onto my stomach, using the tie to bind my wrists together behind my back.
“What are you doing?” I gasped, playing scared again. I was actually loving this.
He crawled onto the bed over me, straddling my hips, and I felt his hard cock press against my ass cheek as he leaned down to kiss my temple. “Please tell me if I’m hurting you, if you don’t want to go on,” he whispered, dropping the accent. “Seriously, I need to know.”
“You want me to have a safe word?” I asked. He was taking care of me when I was too far gone in the role play to take care of myself. Not that I ever thought Chuck would hurt me.
“Yeah but…something you wouldn’t normally say. For example, don’t use the word ‘fuck’ because you say that a lot when we’re screwing.”
I laughed, my chest bouncing against the mattress. “You bring out the best in me.” I thought for a moment, then said the first thing that popped into my mind. “Cornucopia.”
Chuck laughed out a “What?!” and then pressed his lips to my hair. “You’re a dork, but we’ll use cornucopia.”
I shrugged as best I could, grinning wildly. “It was the first word that came to me.”
“Of course it was,” he drawled.
“We could always use ‘Monaco’. Kind of fits the theme you set up here.”
He chuckled. “Was somebody busy Googling a certain Hitchcock movie this morning?”
“No. In the elevator after I had a drink with a nice Englishman.”
I felt his cock tease my ass crack as he shifted his body over mine and let a bit more of his weight press into me. My fingers were squished between his hard abdomen and my back. “You mean you had no idea that entire time we were talking?” I smirked over my shoulder and he let out an amused huff. “My God, you’re amazing at improv. I’m impressed.”
“Well, you are dating a detective who’s been undercover quite a bit as part of the job.” It didn’t occur to me until much later that I’d just said we were dating. I was a little distracted by his dick teasing my ass.
He growled deep in his chest and I felt it against my back, making my body hum. “I bet you use it when you’re grilling suspects in the interrogation room, don’t you?”
If it was at all possible, I thought I felt his penis harden even more. I nearly laughed. “God, my job turns you on so bad and it’s one of my favorite things.”
“Can we get the show on the road here?” His voice was rushed, a bit desperate, and he was starting to rub his cock against my tight ass cheek.
We hadn’t really confirmed whether it was cornucopia or Monaco, but I figured either was fair game, and I was aching to have him inside of me, so I took a deep breath and fell back into my role as Frances Stevens.
“Okay,” I whimpered. “I get it. You’re dangerous. Please untie my wrists.”
“You don’t want me to untie your wrists, Miss Stevens. Admit it. This is turning you on. Otherwise you never would’ve invited a criminal up to your suite.”
He gave my arms a quick tug. My muscles protested a bit but there wasn’t any pain. “You’re very wet, Miss Stevens,” he said, his words clipped again. And I shivered as his fingers swiped between the lips of my vagina and felt just how wet I was.
“Fine,” I gasped. “I admit it. I love being bound like this. Now fucking take me like I begged you to.”
“Beg a little harder.”
“God, please. Please, Mr. Robie! Please fuck my pussy!” I whimpered. “I’m begging you!”
He slid his cock into me from behind, his hands cupping my hips and lifting me up against his crotch so that he was buried deep. And then he yanked me against his thrusts.
Without the use of my hands or arms, I was totally at his mercy. I had no choice but to let him fuck me. I had to lay there and take it.
And it was so good.
I turned my face into the duvet and moaned, shutting my eyes so tightly that spots danced there, or maybe it was Chuck’s dick thumping into my deepest wall over and over. His weight left my back, then, and I felt his thighs scoot under mine so that I was positioned in his lap.
Then he grabbed his tie and tugged my arms back so that my body arched up into a crescent shape. I threw my head back as he slammed himself into my pussy over and over, his hips swinging and slapping his groin against my ass. I felt his balls smacking my pussy with each rough stroke and it was everything I needed.
“Oh, that’s it, Mr. Robie. Yes!” My voice was strangled, dripping with lust.
His hand closed over my ass cheek and I felt his thumb probe my asshole, never quite slipping it inside. Just teasing the rim.
I shook with another orgasm, whimpering the name of a fictional jewel thief, rather than that of an ex-illegal hacker. He slid out of me, breathing hard, and eased me back down to the mattress, cradling my body.
Chuck draped himself half on top of me, stroking my side tenderly. His lips pressed against my temple as I tried to find my equilibrium, my body still roaring with pleasure.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he panted, his breath hot against my cheek. I let out a gusty chuckle and I felt his teeth graze my skin as he grinned. “You think that’s funny?”
“Mhm. Mr. Dangerous Jewel Thief. Can’t get enough of the stuck up heiress who’s all over the tabloids.”
He rolled onto his back and turned his head to give me a long look. I turned my head similarly to look at him, my hands still tied behind my back. It wasn’t very comfortable but I wasn’t about to complain anytime soon.
“Is that what this is? You knew who I was when you walked into that bar, didn’t you? You were trying to seduce me. Trying to get me into your bed.”
“Maybe,” I admitted.
“Why? Why me? Because I’m something different from the high rolling playboys you usually take to bed?” he asked. “Because the life I lead is more dangerous than whether I should put daddy’s money on black or on red?”
I didn’t say anything, instead giving him a smirk.
“That’s it, isn’t it? I’m different. Just wanted someone dangerous for once. You wanted to know what it felt like to have a man inside of you instead of a boy.”
I laughed so hard my body bounced against the mattress, and then he joined me in the laughter, pressing his face into my hair and stroking his hand down my back to cup my ass, squeezing it.
“That was amazing,” I said, still chuckling.
“Thanks. Just one catchy line out of the many I’ve got in my arsenal.” He nuzzled me with his entire body and I felt his hard cock against my hip.
“God, you’re still so hard,” I said. “I must be doing a pretty bad job, huh?”
He scoffed. “Trust me, you’re fine.”
“Just fine?” I raised an eyebrow. “Do I have to prove myself to you now, Mr. Robie?”
He grumbled in desire. “I mean, no, but you can if you want to.”
“I really, really want to.”
His eyes snapped in that special way, his face darkening in lust, and he clambered up the bed, dragging me with him and pulling me to my knees. He laid back against the headboard, his torso at an angle, and he helped me swing my leg over to straddle him. “Make me come, baby,” he breathed, staring at my sex.
He held his cock for me and I eased down, letting him guide himself into me. And then I slid down his shaft until my full weight was in his lap. I squirmed, whimpering through my nose, biting my bottom lip.
“God, it does feel so good to have a man inside of me.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asked, holding my hips and starting to pull me and push me back and forth on his dick. I let him control me, spreading my knees on the mattress, shutting my eyes to just enjoy the sensations.
“Mmmm yesss. They’ve all been boys. Nobody’s ever filled me up like you—so fucking big.”
He growled and it sent a bolt of lightning through me.
“You’re so good,” I whimpered. “I’ve never been so wet for anyone else.”
“I love how wet you are.”
His grip tightened on me and he pulled me onto his dick harder, starting to arch himself up to thrust into me as well.
“I wanted you the moment I knew who you were, Mr. Robie,” I gasped out. I was going to talk him up, make him feel big and bad, dangerous, sexy. I knew Chuck ate that kind of thing up, that it gave him confidence. And a confident Chuck Bartowski was capable of fucking me ’til I screamed.
“I heard all about you. Jewel thief. Womanizer.” I rocked my hips into his gentle thrust and moaned for him. “Nngg I wanted to be one of them.” I gasped and threw my head back as his hard penis stroked over my g-spot. I leaned back a little and it happened again. “One of the women you seduced, one of the women who got to taste you, feel you…” I jammed my hips into him and grit my teeth. “…Ride you.”
“Ooohh…” His brow furrowed in awe.
“I wanted to ride you so hard, seeing you sitting there. Oh yeah…mmm…like that! Yes!” I began to gyrate, attempting to match my movements with his. “I wanted to tear both our pants off and mount you right there on the stool.”
His eyes rolled back.
“In front of everybody. Show them I was yours now.” I started riding harder, my legs straining. “Your latest conquest.”
He grunted and started pulling me back and forth faster, squeezing my hips tighter. “Mmm you made it so easy,” he growled, pushing himself to sit up, our chests bumping as I fucked him.
I used the opportunity to lean my face down close to his, grazing his lips with mine. “S’because I already wanted you before you started. Nnnfff. Fuck! You’re so fucking big, Robie. You’re so fucking big!”
“Ahh! Yes yes yes! Oh my God!” he panted, giving my jaw an open mouthed kiss.
“I sat down next to you—nnngg fuck yeah!—already thinking about what it would feel like to—Oh! So good, baby! Ah!—what it would feel like to have a dangerous man’s cock buried between my legs…”
And then I started bouncing on his cock hard, my breasts bouncing with me, my head falling back as I cried out in pleasure. I wanted to grab the headboard and use it to bounce harder…higher. But I couldn’t with his tie binding my wrists behind my back.
So instead I used my knees on the mattress to throw myself down on his hard dick over and over. “Ooohh!! Oh! Oh! Oh! Fuck! Fuck yes! Yes! Yes! YES!”
“Hnng! Your pussy’s squeezing me so good,” he gasped out, letting his head fall back to thump against the headboard, his body bouncing each time I landed hard in his lap. “I’m almost there!”
“Come for me! Come on!” I panted through clenched teeth, careful not to bite my tongue. That’d end this vacation early, and on quite the bad note. “I wanna feel your cum in my pussy.”
He groaned.
I could see he was close. I wanted to grab onto his hair, onto his shoulders. Something. Anything. But I couldn’t. So I just bucked on him, my chest heaving, legs aching.
But then Chuck grabbed me by my waist and held me a couple inches over him, only a bit of his penis still inside of me. And he immediately began to thrust hard and fast up into me.
Slap slap slap slap slap slap slap slap!
“Hnnng! Hn! Ohhh!! Yesyesyes!” I shut my eyes tightly, hunching forward.
And then he jerked hard against me, arching off the mattress, our bodies lifting together.
I felt wet heat burst inside of me, dripping out of my hole around his cock, and I gyrated as best I could to get every last drop of his delicious semen. “Oh, yeaaah,” I moaned. “I want all that cum inside me!”
One last rough jerk inside of me and he was empty, falling back to the mattress. I collapsed forward against him and his arms came up to round my body, holding me close.
Notes: Stick around. More is coming. They've got a massive, fancy suite at their disposal. For however long they want it.
Please review! Thanks!
- 27
- 28
- 29
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Just A Game