Lady Doom: The Sequel to Minion.

Smut Chapter!
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I was awakened suddenly by a hand clamped down over my mouth. I reacted immediately. I bit it. I also thrashed and kicked, but since it was not a disembodied hand (the universe in which I live being one in which stranger things happen) but one which was attached to a very large, very strong man who had pinned me down, it didn’t do much, and I was tangled up in the bedclothes as well.

So I bit down even harder, and was rewarded by a hiss of pain. I redoubled my efforts to get out from under whoever this was, and started to grind my teeth together, going for the bone. He said something when I got an elbow into the region of his solar plexus, and I was doing my best to draw blood when he suddenly replaced his with his mouth, and kissed me, roughly.

There was an unevenness to his lips—scar tissue. About at that point, my brain, which was only just catching up to my instincts, replayed what he had said when I got my elbow in. ‘Jovian—‘.

I had not given my name as Joviana to anyone. I had been using my old name. That, his lips, and the familiarity of his kiss, his smell, of everything else about him…

This was Victor. My Victor.

I bit him again.

But not as hard this time.

One moment we were fighting, the next—. Well, we were still struggling, but I wasn’t seriously trying to fend him off any more. All the questions such as ‘What’s going on?’ got set aside for the moment. I was extremely happy it was him, I was already in bed, and he was not in armor. I did keep struggling and thrashing as he got the bedclothes back, making him keep hold of my hands and my legs pinned down.

He seemed to enjoy this too, and when he got my nightgown hauled up—the material never tears that easily—he thrust his hand directly between my legs, and chuckled. I was already getting slippery.

Anything truly non-consensual would have outraged and terrified me, but that was not what was going on. This was more like a very, very grown-up version of make-believe, and we both knew it. It was an aspect of love making we had not returned to since that first time, and it was very exciting—for us both. If I was getting aroused fast, he was ready right now, and wasn’t going to wait.

Even while I fought, I was kissing him back just as savagely, and I didn’t do any of the last ditch self-defense moves I could have done. Plus, a giggle escaped out of me every now and then.

The bed set up a protest, creaking and groaning alarmingly, as he bend his head to ravish my breasts with his mouth, and I clawed at his back, hauling up his shirt so I could feel his skin. He moved his hand from between my legs to between his own, and a moment later had freed himself from his pants. Then he forced my legs apart and drove a magnificent erection home into me.

Sex between us just kept getting better. I was moving with him, enthusiastically, climbing the rollercoaster hill to orgasm. He was panting hoarsely as he thrust, one hand steadying himself against the headboard, which was banging against the wall in time with our rhythm, and using the other hand to give me what I needed. My clitoris was so engorged with blood, so sensitized that his touch was nearly painful. I bit his shoulder as I came, the spasms wracking me and wringing me out. It was glorious.

Then he let himself come—and it was then that the bed slats gave way, but by then there was no stopping him, not even though the left side of the bed dropped a good fifteen centimeters. I started laughing while he was still groaning, and once he got his breath back, he joined in too.

“You bit me!” he said, in mock outrage.

“I was only serious the first time. You came in here and started ravishing me! You’re lucky I didn’t manage to get my knee in like I did to Mastermind—you weren’t wearing armor.” I pointed out.

“Treason!” he accused me, chuckling again. “I had not planned to—not precisely—but the situation was too like those months when I thought of you, lying here, and imagined...”

“Oh--. I see.” What an interesting image that was—Victor upstairs, frustrated, and me, here, equally so, but unaware…

“Yes. I do not care for this bed of yours. Its sense of timing is perverse and mischievous.” he said.

“Don’t blame the bed!” I laughed. “You’re the one who broke it. I successfully achieved orgasm in it probably a thousand times over the last three years without ever once breaking it—although doing it alone was much less stressful on the bed frame. Can we get up? This is not comfortable.” We had slid down the tilted mattress to rest against the wall, with me on the bottom.

“Certainly, my dear. I don’t think it’s broken—I believe the slats bent and slipped out.”

He was right. After he put his informal mask on and I took mine off, we rebuilt the bed and got back in it.

“The foremost question in my mind is, ‘What’s going on?’” I told him. “Or, alternately, ‘Who is responsible and how do we get them to put the world back the way it was?’”

“I don’t know…as yet.”

TBC…

Hello, everybody! Too late to write shout-outs tonight-check back. Will explain. In the meantime--Enjoy!