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Redemption and Revenge	By : LLCoyote Category: M through R > Revolution Views: 2516 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own NBC Revolution, its characters or its surrounding fandom. I make no profit from this what so ever.

Chapter List
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Well as some of you may know, this story is posted first and foremost on fanfiction dot net, and as far as I know, Valantha isn't on this site. But she did beta read this chapter for me, or at least most of it. You can tell, because the paragraphs start getting sloppy when we get to the sex scene. I just felt super awkward having anyone proof read a sex scene for me.
About the sex scene. So I only have like three things in common with Blair, we like animals, we like singing... oh and neither of us has ever fucked a dude. Now if there is a female x female scene in this story, it'll probably be more accurate. This is the first time I've EVER written a sex scene from a male point of view and it was hard. (LOL) This is also my second time writing a sex scene with a guy in it period and even then, the first time, I focused mostly on the two girls. So, what I'm trying to say is that I did my best ok?! What do you want from me blood?! FINE TAKE IT!... Actually I'm feeling light headed, I'm going to need that back... enjoy the story.

Do you believe a man could become so obsessed with a woman, from a single encounter?

Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for her and find nourishment in the very sight of her? I think so. But would she see through the bars of his plight and ache for him?”

― Thomas Harris, Hannibal

For a month and a half they’d had her now. This horrible, stubborn, beautiful creature that frightened half of the guards he set at her door. She wasn’t particularly violent or cruel, just the opposite in fact. The girl never fought the soldiers, she never tried to escape, and unless they were inflicting some sort of terrible pain on her, she never screamed. This, in itself, seemed to disturb the men outside her door. Normal prisoners fight. Rachel Matheson; holy hell that woman could fight. And Nora? She’d killed a man twice her size while she was drugged. No one had ever been afraid of them though. Well… maybe Nora, if they were alone and she was unchained. This girl was probably a head and a half shorter than both of those women (especially Rachel) and yet she made his full grown men, his hardened soldiers afraid with her compliant behavior.
But their biggest issue with her did not lie in her eerie silence, but in her songs. Haunting, beautiful songs. The girl sang and sang. It was like she had a million melodies locked away in her memory, and she never ran out of something to sing. Finally, after hours, she would expend so much energy in her songs that she would pass out. Unconsciousness was one of the few things that kept her from singing. The only other times she stopped were when she was eating and when they were torturing her. Most of them were not in English, though a few had been in Spanish. This seemed to make the paranoia of the guards grow… alongside of Lieutenant Cramer’s wild stories. Because if they didn’t know what was really being said, the claim that she was trying to curse them all in song was easier to believe. Strange, as long as the general had known Cramer, he’d been a logical man. If you’d have brought up spirits or voodoo to him he’d have laughed or maybe cussed you out. Now he began spouting rumors to anyone that would listen. He would say she could hypnotize people or something like that, just by singing a song. It was a curse, her beautiful voice, and that is what had killed one of his men. As ridiculous as it all sounded, Monroe had noticed a significant amount of nervousness in her guards… but so long as they continued to follow orders, he didn’t pay them any attention… lately he only had eyes for her.
He could barely believe his eyes when they brought her in. After all of this searching, after all of this trouble this girl was what they had to show for it? This tiny little girl frightened sailors? What was she? Not much over five feet tall. She wasn’t scarred and calloused from battle either. And this beautiful young woman was the one who traveled with his son and no one noticed them? Granted, she was no super model and perhaps not everyone’s taste, but she was lovely. She had flawless pale skin and eyes like grey mist, sloping curves and thick lips… someone had to have noticed her before now. Everything about her seemed the opposite of what he’d been imagining since he’d gotten the letter. Of course he’d imagined something much more menacing. Like a 6-foot tall woman with the muscles of a seaman. Looking back on it… that scenario seemed just as unlikely as the truth. Though, if he thought about it, she did look like some sort of Pirates of the Caribbean dress-up doll in her tall brown boots, tight riding pants and loose white poet’s shirt. Almost all of her clothes had a tear in them somewhere and there were multiple stains from what looked like a mixture of blood and dirt. He couldn’t tell if it was her blood or not.
Despite the fact that she was covered in filth, even initially, he’d wanted her. Not nearly as bad as he wanted her now, after watching her for over a month through a concealed hole in the wall of her dark concrete cell, but the attraction was there. The desire to knock her determination and stubbornness right off her face was instant, as was the desire to touch her. At first, perhaps, it was because it felt so surreal that he’d finally found something, anything, which may be able to lead him to what he so desperately searched for… At first. He’d watched every interrogation with increased intensity and somehow, without his knowing, he’d sit down to observe the tiny monitor screen and suddenly hours would be gone. It was overwhelming to sit there and watch her sing (he didn’t have a microphone in the room so he couldn’t listen)… or even worse to watch them torture her. Everything he wanted, she had. Her secrets, her spirit, her flesh, those were the only things he found that he truly wanted anymore… and he had no leverage over her to make her bend to his will. All he had was pain and patience. The latter she seemed to have in excess and in response to the former she had tolerance and the delusion that one day she would be killed and in death she would escape him… but he wasn’t about to let that happen.
After the first few weeks he had found himself flying into uncontrollable rage whenever the torturers got too… spirited. Everything had been fine until he’d observed one of the sessions from inside of her cell. A soldier pulled out one of her back teeth and in her weakness (they hadn’t been keeping her well fed and watered at the time) her body had gone into shock and she had nearly died. He had watched the whole thing, sick to his stomach when he heard her screams. Some demented, almost kind part of him hated to hear such a heart breaking sound. Rachel had never screamed like that. Rachel had always been brave. She may have cried out some, but she never screamed so loudly, so freely, in suffering and frustration. Dignity didn’t seem as important to the little red head as he knew it had been to Rachel. It was obvious that she didn’t care anymore, that all she had left in this world was her secrets, and there was nothing worth abandoning them for. She would happily die before she said anything and she’d demonstrated it that day.
He could remember the sound and the pliers clicking dully against the tooth as the soldier got a good hold like he could remember horror films from the before the blackout.
They grabbed her head and held her in place… but she hadn’t been fighting them. It was disturbing to see her just sit there, horrified but stubborn, waiting for them to rip her molar out. The tooth didn’t come out with one clean yank, or two. It took about four hard pulls to tear it free. The force had sent the little tooth flying across the room to be lost in the darkness. She had screamed the whole time. He’d wondered when this sort of thing had stopped bothering him… and why it was affecting him so much all of the sudden. She screamed and screamed until she’d just stopped. Her small body, smeared with her own blood and sweat swayed unsteadily in the chair, her chest worked rapidly in desperation for more air, and then she began to vomit. She didn’t have anything but bile to expel but her diaphragm relentlessly contracted and forced out fluid. Before they could pull her out of the chair she slumped over, motionless, a still black shadow in the dim candle-light.
His heart raced painfully inside of his chest as one of the soldiers pressed two bloody fingers against her pulse point, checking for signs of life. They laid her gently onto her side, trying to clear her air-ways until a doctor could be retrieved. What was most likely only minutes felt like hours as he teetered on the edge of emotional turmoil. The doctor had burst in with unbelievable calm, and assessed the situation. After much dread and some careful medical attention, she rejoined the realm of consciousness, only for a moment, before she was given some powerful drugs to dull her pain. Even in the light of all of this, he hadn’t been able to calm down.
The saying “seeing red” seemed like a massive understatement. His heart was racing, his fists were trembling, his jaw couldn’t be pried open with a fucking crowbar, and the world just seemed blurred… except for her, and of course the men who’d nearly murdered her (he couldn’t bring himself to accept any blame for this horrific act of cruelty). It took every bit of restraint he could muster (and some extra restrain from Baker) to keep him from beating the man who had pulled the tooth with his bare hands. How dare that stupid, ignorant man almost take something so important from him! The man was sentenced to the firing squad and Monroe made an official announcement to all of her caretakers that they weren’t to endanger her life… and they weren’t to leave any scars. That last bit had been an afterthought and he’d noticed how uncomfortable it had made Jeremy. Baker was the only one that had seen the extent of his new found obsession and Sebastian knew it was starting to worry him. He’d even accused him of replacing his interest in Miles with the girl and he wasn’t wrong. Monroe could see what was happening to him, he could feel the familiar pull in his gut, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted her.
He decided that torture wasn’t working. If it was working, then it was doing so far too slowly for his taste. You can’t threaten someone with death, doom, and damnation or even pain, when they just didn’t care. You can’t play chicken with someone who will never chicken out. The result will always be a bloody collision. So, if scaring her wouldn’t work, perhaps being nice would. This was, of course, mainly for extracting information from her. The fact that this might, as a secondary result, make her more open to his advances was just icing on the cake. That’s what he’d told himself when he decided to pull her out of her cell for dinner that evening, but now that she was here, cleaned up, and in clothes that weren’t torn to bits, the lines had begun to blur. Eventually he had just stopped lying to himself. She was here because he was starting to think she’d never tell them anything and if he couldn’t get information from her, perhaps he could get something else. That was the truth and once he admitted it, Bass forced himself to stop caring about how it looked… or what his men might think. Since when did he owe anyone any explanations?
The meal so far had been completely silent. She’d picked at her food for an eternity before attempting to stomach the roasted chicken. They’d fed her nothing but bread and water since she came. Her body weight had gone from healthy, with a little weight to spare, to thin in that time. If she didn’t start eating better soon, she may just get her wish and die from some sort of nutritional deficiency. Not that Bass would ever let that happen. He watched her gingerly chew her food on one side of her mouth, even weeks after she was still sore from the pulling of her tooth. Monroe didn’t even try to act as though he wasn’t leering at her like some sort of predator. Her hair was pulled up, revealing some nasty purple bruising that he chose to ignore, her face was washed clean, and the simple black dress fit her nicely, even if it was a little too loose.
The silence in the room was going to drive him crazy soon but he wasn’t really sure what to say. This wasn’t a date, it was a mind game and the bland, unimpressed look on her face told him that she knew that too.
Finally when the sound of nothing but silverware on plates and crackling torches was about to make him strangle something, she spoke. “May I ask you a question?” She didn’t look at him when she said it. Instead, she had taken particular interest in watching the wine swirl around in her glass.
Bass chuckled a bit in response to the irony. “You’re asking me something?” He said with a tilt of his head, “And… tell me, why should I answer your questions if you won’t answer mine?” Her eyes squinted into angry slits for just a moment before she returned to her emotionless façade.
“I figured anything was preferable to awkwardly sitting here waiting for you to tell me what all of this is about. If you don’t want me to ask, I won’t ask.” She snipped defensively. The glass of dark wine lifted to her lips and she took a greedy, unladylike gulp.
Curious, though not wanting to admit she was right, Sebastian leaned back and signaled for her to continue with a small hand gesture, “Ask away.”
Her lips pursed into a tight line, “Have you thought this through?” She paused, but didn’t let him respond, “I mean really. Say I knew where my brother was, and I assure you I no longer do, and say I was willing to tell you, which I never will be, but if I did tell you and you went there and you found him… then what? What if he doesn’t want you as badly as you want him?”
The general stared at her in shock, picking up his glass of scotch and downing the rest of it. Honestly, he’d tried not to think of that. Thinking of that was both terrifying and infuriating. Even at the mention of it, he felt his temper flare. He’d have punished anyone else for talking to him that way but not her… at least not now. One, because anything she said about his son was interesting to him, painful or not and two, because that is exactly what she wanted. She was trying to goad him for some reason, maybe just for the hell of it, and he wasn’t about to let her win by getting emotional unless she crossed any major lines.
He just smirked and poured himself another glass of scotch, “I guess that is something I’ll have to deal with if it comes up… I’m surprised that you would say anything about him though, you haven’t been open to discussing him so far with my men.”
Her head snapped up, this time she actually looked angry, “You mean your torturers. If you’re going to let them do it, don’t be too much of a coward to call it what it is.”
What had been a small hint of an accent seemed to get stronger the angrier she got. He still wasn’t sure where it was from though. The first day they’d brought her here she had said something about Gaelic decent… that was Ireland right? He wasn’t sure.
She took a moment (and another gulp of wine) to regain her composure, “And your men have been asking me the same questions for who only knows how long. Maybe if you’d ask something else you’d get a different response.”
The general frowned, confused, angry, and not entirely sure if she was trying to trick him, “So you’ll tell me about my son?” He paused for a response but she only nodded and started to pick at her food again. She had to be screwing with him. No one subjects themselves to torture to keep a secret and then tells all the first time they’re asked nicely. His grip on his fork tightened to the point where it threatened to bend, the mixture of lust and anger was starting to take over him, and if she kept at this game he’d end up hurting her badly for such blatant insolence. Disrespect, in any form, was never tolerated by him.
“Why?” He asked after a long silence. She frowned sadly in response, letting out a heavy sigh, “As a sort of last-ditch effort to get you to see reason. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to tell you anything that would lead you to him, but perhaps if I told you enough information—select information, you’d realize that he’s happy.” She stopped for a long time, staring at the wall looking utterly lost, “And if that really mattered to you, then you’d just… leave him alone. Let him be happy.”
The conversation was quickly taking an ugly turn. Bass was desperately trying to be pleasant to her but she was pushing it! How the hell did she know his son wouldn’t be happy with him? Did she really have the audacity to believe he would hurt his own child? Who the fuck was she to determine what was right or wrong when it came to his family? Suddenly he didn’t want to talk about his son anymore. Not now. He wasn’t ready to face the fact, or even imagine, that his flesh and blood wouldn’t want him; that he wasn’t the absolute best thing for him. If he let her keep going down this trail, she may just get herself killed. That was what she wanted wasn’t it?
His fist slammed violently against the hardwood of the table, and everything resting upon it shook. She didn’t flinch, only looked down at her lap in an attempt to conceal her face. “Do you not understand that I am trying to be civil?” He shouted as he abruptly stood from his seat.
The chair flew back so hard that it crashed against the cement wall. Her lips twitched, as if she wanted to speak, but then she thought better of it and closed her mouth. His hands bounced in nervous agitation as he approached her before clasping the back of her chair in a crushing grasp.
“It doesn’t… have to be like this.” She trembled as one of his hands left the chair to gently stroke the flesh of her neck. “We don’t have to… fight, like this.” He could feel her breathing still as his hand got more and more bold, tenderly tracing her side as he knelt to talk into her ear. “You don’t have to keep hurting.” He whispered. His face pressed into the loosely tied hair of her pony-tail.
“And what… all I have to do is tell you where he is right?” She said, her tone dripping with mockery.
His roaming hand gripped her arm so tightly that she winced and dropped her fork, “Ya know I’m really trying not to lose my temper with you but you aren’t making it easy.” It wasn’t until he heard a whimper of pain leave her lips that he loosened his hold on her.
He pressed his lips against her smooth, warm neck, nearly moaning at the feel of her so close, “And maybe… you could give me something besides information… and I could make your life” He stopped to kiss shoulder, lingering for a second, and just inhaling the scent of her. He was glad he’d told them to wash her before dinner, “I could make your life so much better.”
Her shallow breathing picked up as her anxiety clearly rose. He could feel her get even tenser beneath his hand and in the torchlight he could see the hairs on her neck stand up.
“My life is perfectly fine,” She whispered, licking her lips over and over. It was obvious that he was frightening her, “But what does it matter? You’ll probably take what you want regardless of my answer.”
Sebastian frowned. He’d never raped a woman, actually he’d never tortured one himself ether. It seemed… barbaric. He wasn’t some he man that would drag a woman back to his cave and fuck her despite her protests. Many women would eagerly lay with him and if those ran out, whores were an easy thing to come by nowadays. But he didn’t take rejection well. He never had. Rejection had a way of bringing out the worst in him. Even now he was struggling against the urge to hurt her.
Instead, he cleared his throat, “Of course not. You can say no all you like. I was just trying to be nice… to offer you a more comfortable situation.”
That seemed to bring out the courage in her and she jerked her arm away from him. “I’m going to have to decline your generous offer General.” She was still whispering, and still clearly unnerved.
Sebastian stood up abruptly and waved at the guards by the door, “We’ll see if you feel that way in another month or—” He was cut off by the doors bursting open and a tall, muscular man with dark skin storming in.
“Sir!” The man said, panting for more air, “Sir, we have just discovered there has been a threat on your life.”
Monroe frowned, absent-mindedly resting his hand against Blair’s shoulder, “By whom? Miles?”
The man shook his head stiffly, “No sir. One of your maids was caught poisoning the decanter of whiskey you keep in your office. My men have her detained down the hall, awaiting your order.” The General nearly groaned, he did not need this frustration on top of everything else!
“Bring her here.” He snapped, his hand tightening unintentionally against Blair’s shoulder. The redhead winced in response but didn’t dare speak up at the moment, he was already furious with her.
The large man disappeared for only a moment, then returned, flanked by two more soldiers (a short, stocky man and a fit, angry-looking woman) between them was a woman in her twenties. Her face was red with tear-stains streaked down her cheeks.
She trembled in fright when Monroe glared at her but bravely shouted at him, “You killed my husband! H-he did everything for you and—and you made him crazy!” Her shrill voice bounced off of the walls and echoed down the hall. Monroe squinted his eyes, trying to remember something.
“They didn’t even let me bury him! They took him off to God-only-knows where and I’ll never see him again!” She screeched, even louder than the first time. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Blair wince and Bass loosened his grip.
The realization suddenly dawned on him, “You’re Corporal Hanes’ wife… The young man that killed himself.” He said slowly, more to himself than to her.
“He only did it because you drove him to do it! He begged his commanding officer not to go! He didn’t want to leave me after I had a miscarriage! But you MADE him go! Now he’s dead and I—I’m all alone!” If not for the soldiers holding her up she’d have collapsed to the ground in tears. Her loud wailing was almost deafening. Monroe ignored her, waving his hand as he turned away. He had a horrible headache from this whole ordeal. Everything that had happened tonight was a disaster.
“Your husband died for a good cause.” He looked over his shoulder for only a moment to speak to her captors, “Hang her in the morning. Make a spectacle of it. I want everyone to understand the consequences for such a crime.” The guards nodded and began to pull the hysterical woman away.
“Wait!” Blair shouted, bolting up from her seat. Sebastian turned to glare at her and to his surprise she was staring right at him.
“I’ll do it. I’ll… give you what you wanted. Willingly. Just… just don’t hurt this woman.” He could swear the young redhead’s eyes were filling with tears as she pleaded with him, “Hasn’t she been through enough? The only reason she did it was because she was in pain.” It didn’t excuse her behavior, not to Monroe. He’d killed people for a hell of a lot less than an assassination attempt but he was curious. Blair was genuinely upset, begging him, all of the sake of some woman she didn’t even know. Sure the man had shot himself in front of her, but that didn’t mean this was her problem. If he’d had known she was such a bleeding-heart he’d have used this against her before now.
He approached her slowly, putting a hand beneath her chin and stroking her skin with his thumb, “And why do you care?”
“Because I know what it’s like when the person you love more than anything is just… gone. I know how that tears people apart.” She whispered, “And you were right before… why would I choose to live in hell if you can give me something better?” Bass wiped away a tear that dripped down her cheek, putting his other arm around her and pulling her close. He gently lowered his lips to hers and kissed her. At first she did nothing but shiver in his arms but slowly she gave herself over to the kiss and stiffly participated. She didn’t want this, that was still apparent, but she was trying to, and Bass didn’t care about anything else. He pulled back and gasped silently for air.
His forehead rested against hers and he stared into her teary eyes for a while before whispering, “Ok.” Clearing his throat again, the general stood up tall and addressed the soldier’s at the door way, “Take her out of the city and let her go.” He told them sternly, guiding Blair by the arm that was still around her waist towards the opposite set of doors that lead to the stairs. She looked over her shoulder briefly but didn’t try and hesitate. Silently, she let him lead her away.
His room was dark and completely silent. If not for the burning candle in his hand it would have been pitch black. He tried not to look as excited and anxious as he really was as stumbled around the room lighting a few more candles. Blair just watched him, wide-eyed. Her ample chest was heaving with large, nervous breaths. It should have made him concerned; it should have encouraged him things to take things slow… but it only made him want her more. He gave up on the rest of the candles. They’d do this again in the light, when he could see her properly, but he was tired of waiting. For a month he’d waited, and now he had what he wanted (well… part of it anyway).
Bass took a firm hold on her arms and pressed her roughly against the shut door, smirking when he heard her whimper. He pressed his lips against her neck, kissing up from her shoulder to her jaw but she just stood there. Her body began to quiver as he boldly went for the straps of her dress and gently slid the garment off of her. If he hadn’t have been holding her against the door, she may have jerked herself away from him as the dress pooled around her pale ankles. “Relax.” He mumbled slowly, pulling her body to press against his. She gave a valiant effort to control her rapid breathing and stiffly rested her head back against the hardwood. The general smirked and let his hands roam her bare body, “That’s a good girl.”
His praise didn’t seem to please her, but again he ignored it. He needed her so badly right now. With his left hand he cupped her breast and stroked the underside with his thumb, and with his right he grabbed the back of her neck to pull her into a rough, passionate kiss. Slowly, tentatively, she began to play her part and kissed him back. Willingly she’d said and willingly meant participation. She was still stiff, but her lips were soft as he kissed her. He abandoned his hold on her breast to wrap and arm around her hips and pull her so tightly against him that she had to stand on the tips of her toes. Confidently, he slid his tongue over her bottom lip and rocked his hips so she could feel his erection. She didn’t open her mouth upon his silent request, so he took her plump bottom lip between his teeth and nipped her, making her gasp in response. He didn’t waste any time letting his tongue slip through her parted lips to explore her mouth.
She thought about biting him, he could feel it in the way her jaw tensed. He reached up to grab a handful of her hair in his fist and tugged it in an unspoken threat. She cautiously brought her arms up to his chest and gripped his shoulders before stroking his tongue dispassionately with her own. Bass could feel her struggle for air and broke the kiss, staring down at her intensely. “Take off my shirt,” He demanded in a low, raspy voice. In the dim light he saw her gulp, as though she could physically swallow her fear, before moving to pull at the buttons of his garment gracelessly. Her pace was agonizingly slow, showing her hesitation. If she hadn’t been… coerced into this situation he’d say she was trying to tease him.
Finally the cloth parted from his chest and slid down his shoulders and he could feel her skin against his. Her bare breasts moving erratically up and down against his chest, the way her eyes lingered on his muscles, and her fingers, light as downy feathers, dancing over him. It was enough to drive him mad with desire. He wanted more; now. It was shameful how fast he was moving, when he should have been taking his time, enjoying this moment; their first time together, he was supposed to make this magical for her. That’s what girls liked. They wanted to be treated with gentle consideration and loving care. He’d done it with Emma. Their first time had been sweet albeit passionate. But he couldn’t do it with her... Bass needed her too badly.
He showered her neck with frenzied kisses, sucking here and nipping there. Every time he nipped her she jumped and gasped in surprise. Every time his hand moved somewhere new she did the same thing. He paused for a second, staring deeply into her misty grey eyes. “Have you ever done this before?” He asked between heavy pants for air. She looked confused. No more emotionless façade, he had her far too off balance for that, and he loved it. He could get addicted to her tiny expressions. Only he had been able to get this from her. Him! Real, raw emotion. Raw, he liked that word, especially when he was thinking of her.
Tired of waiting for answers, Bass slid his hand down her stomach to her center. He made sure to move slowly, not wanting to alarm her. She was trying her best to be willing and submissive to his desires but he didn’t need to hurt her and give her a reason to start fighting. Gently he stroked her outer fold and frowned angrily. She was dry. Some things just couldn’t be faked… but they could be changed. She’d be screaming for him before this night was over. He glanced up from her breasts to her face. Her eyes were shut as tightly as possible, and a few lone tears dripped down her cheeks. He felt a pang of guilt, but brushed it off as quickly as it came.
“Have you done this before?” He reiterated, more softly than the first time. He was trying to soothe her, pacify her, and let her know he wasn’t a monster who only wanted to hurt her. His finger dipped down into her warm folds and Bass moaned at the feeling of it. Carefully he pressed the appendage up inside of her. She jerked and slammed herself against the door so hard her head made a resounding ‘bang’ against the wood. Her insides clenched around him tightly, unwillingly as he probed and prodded. He didn’t punish her for her defiance, he couldn’t. Here he was, exploring her most intimate of places, without her true consent, and he expected her to behave like an angel? No. That was something that she would have to learn, that he would have to teach her over time.
“Not with a man.” She whispered keeping her eyes sealed shut. Now he was the one that was confused. He started to gently move his finger in and out of her tight heat as he kissed her again. This time he didn’t linger with his lips on hers, but he hadn’t been able to resist, “What do you mean?” She whimpered and her body shivered against him. “I’ve had sex before… just not with a man.”She replied in a strained voice. He stopped moving his finger inside of her, “You’re gay?” That would explain why she wasn’t attracted to him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about this. That could mean she’d never warm up to him, and just the thought made him furious. Why hadn’t she said something sooner?!
“Not strictly.” She sounded very uncomfortable, and he could tell she wouldn’t continue talking to him much longer before she broke down in sobs, but he had to push her. She must have sensed this because she added, “I’ve liked men before. I—I swear I wouldn’t have agreed to this under any circumstance if that weren’t the case.”
Bass sighed in relief and kissed her deeply, sucking and nibbling on her full lips until both of them needed air. His finger started to move inside her again, more boldly this time, making sure, steady movements. With his other hand he took hold of one of her wrists and pulled her smaller hand over his belt buckle. She got the hint, fumbling with his pants until they fell down around his ankles. He removed himself from inside of her and lifted her up off of the ground by her waist, until her legs wrapped around his hips for support. He smirked when he saw her blush in the candle-light as her sex pressed up against his erection. He was still coved by his underwear, but she felt so much closer now than moments before.
He none-too-gently put her down on the bed and loomed above her. Her eyes shot wide open, and he could see complete terror in them. Again he ignored her displeasure. Eventually she would want this as badly as he did. He lowered his mouth down to her breast and started to gently suck on her nipple, stroking her hair back tenderly with one of his hands. She groaned softly, though from pleasure or upset, Bass couldn’t tell. He sucked harder, swirling his tongue around her hardening nipple before moving to the next breast.
“Now my boxers,” He grumbled, “Take them off too.” She obeyed and awkwardly wiggled beneath him until she managed to free his erection, then she froze. Bass finished the job for her, kicking his underwear off and pressing his lips against hers. With strong, steady hands he parted her thighs and ground himself against her. For a brief moment she tried to clamp them closed, but then she took a deep breath and let him pull them back apart. Bass couldn’t wait anymore. He should have, but he just couldn’t.
He pressed his hard shaft against her warm center and pushed his way in. He tried to be as gentle as possible, despite her dryness. She cried out but Bass knew the pain was much more mental than physical. “Shhhhh,” He whispered, kissing her jaw, “It’s alright… just let go.” With a final push he seated himself inside of her fully and moaned. She was so fucking tight. She was perfect.
Bass began to thrust into her slowly, but quickly picked up his pace. He needed her so badly, and now he had her. He shoved his lips against hers in a wild, rough kiss. This time she opened her mouth immediately when he asked, and she even sucked on his tongue timidly. He ran the slick, fleshy, organ over her teeth and the roof of her mouth, moaning louder. His hands found her breasts again, massaging them firmly, even when she cried out. He couldn’t hear her anymore. Nothing she said at this point would have encouraged him to move more gently.
Pleasure was spurring his brain and body forward harder and harder, like kicking a horse that was already high strung. His hips snapped roughly against hers as he fucked her. Fucked was the right word. Just like she’d been trying to fuck with his head for the past month, just like she fucked him over whenever he asked her something about his son. This was not love-making. There was nothing loving about this, only pure passion being released.
He tossed his head back and moaned louder. His body went tense against hers as he came so hard the room faded away for a moment, releasing himself inside of her without giving it a second thought. He kissed her. He kissed her again and again, unable to stop himself from touching her. His hands kept kneading the flesh of her breasts, relishing in the feel of them. Bass basked in his accomplishment, but felt a strong pang of regret when he saw nothing but fear and sadness reflected back in her eyes. He pulled himself out of her and laid down, gently pulling her up against his body and kissing her shoulder. He felt like he should say something… but no words came, just deep, blissful slumber.

"When trapped in a nightmare and offered a dream... How could you not want to escape?" Crystal Origins:Crystal Fears, Unicorn9927 dA

The bed felt cold, stale, as he rose from the depths of sleep. It was still dark outside and he could here a voice from somewhere in the blackness, it was singing. Slowly he came to the understanding that it was that voice which woke him from euphoric rest. Bass pushed himself up onto his forearms, searching the room for Blair. When had she left the bed? He'd always been a heavy sleeper and the three glasses of scotch he'd downed at dinner had probably only made it worse. If she were whispering right now, he'd probably have never gotten up.
He rubbed his temple with one hand and searched the darkness. She was sitting in a chair beside the window, which was now open, staring up at the moon with a mournful expression as she sang. He'd heard this song before. Most of her songs were new every time, but she sang this one often. Every time the day guards would switch with the night ones outside her cell, she'd sing it. It wasn't in any language he understood or recognized but it was one of the most beautiful (and foreboding) songs that she sang.
"O chì, chì mi na mòr-bheanna

O chì, chì mi na còrr-bheanna

O chì, chì mi na coireachan

Chì mi na sgoran fo cheò"
Bass swung his legs over the side of the bed and went to close the window. Why hadn't she jumped out of it? She had said multiple times that she was prepared to die... why hadn't she taken her opportunity? He shivered and jerked it shut; it was cold as shit out there. Why had she opened the window when it was freezing outside if not to jump out? He looked at her inquisitively, like she may actually answer him, but she only kept singing. She stared straight through him, up at the twinkling stars above the city. How stupid he'd been to assume she would actually change after spending the night together.
"Hey." He mumbled tiredly, nudging her on the shoulder. She sighed heavily and looked over at him, he couldn't see her expression as well now, the light of the moon was obstructing her face with shadows. The general felt his way over to the fireplace and fumbled with a pack of matches. He lit an old cloth aflame and tossed it onto the logs, which slowly flared to life as the fire grew, "Why are you out of bed?"
"I didn't know that I wasn't allowed to get up." She answered quietly, looking over her shoulder at the growing fire. She was still naked, not even a cover spread over her pale chest to shield her from the frigid air she'd been letting in. He took hold of her arms and pulled her back into the bed beside him, pressed against his chest. This time he held onto her tightly as he drifted back into slumber.

Yaaaaay sex scene is out of the way for at least a few chapters. Maybe only two.
- 2
- 3
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Redemption and Revenge