Entry Two: The Birthday Surprise ~Chapter Eight
Author: Brandywine00
Rating: NC-18/Mature~ADULTS ONLY! SMINK warning (SmutKink)
Fandom: Chuck/ AU J/Ellie
Pairing: Ellie Bartowski/John Casey
Word Count: 1,553
Disclaimer: I don’t own Chuck, any of Chuck’s characters, and make no money from this. Purely for pleasure.
Special thanks to BigBadJayne for wonderful encouragement, assistance and beta throughout this series! Y’all enjoy!
A/N: This is the eighth chapter in a WIP titled The Birthday Surprise. Set in the 'Chuck' fandom, it's AU for Jellie (John/Ellie pairing). Only general spoilers, I think, set somewhere in the second season. Contains explicit adult content, elements of consensual BDSM. Not just PWP, but those jumping into the story here may get that impression. Previous chapters here: Chapter One Link.
Hope y'all enjoy... reviews are manna... please feed the writer! ;D
The Birthday Surprise ~ Chapter Eight
*~*~*~*~*
Ellie peered into the oval mirror on the wall,
fingering her hair to make sure it was dry. Running her hands over the silk of the negligee John had left for her, she saw the woman in the reflection blush. The gown, what there was of it, had thin, satiny straps that matched the small satin ties running the length of the front. Its slightly flared hem reaching only to the curve of her buttocks. The silk was so light, it could well have been spun of gossamer and air.
The woman in the glass flushed, her lips and cheeks and breasts pinking at the sight of herself in a gown so sheer it hid nothing. Even the matching thong panties were visible, nearly translucent as well, and doing little to obscure the now clean-shaven flesh of her mound.
With a final check in the mirror, Ellie took a deep breath, and eased through the door to the bedroom.
The light from a dozen candles cast a flickering light on the shape of his back. John stood at the slightly-raised window, legs braced at shoulder width, hands behind his back in what she assumed was the classic ‘at-ease’ military pose. Even with his back to her, she could see the proud tilt of his chin as he stared out across the storm-tossed waves. Wearing a crisp white shirt with the cuffs rolled up, and dark pants that looked to be leather from this distance, he could easily have been some pirate captain, surveying the squall.
“Did you prepare yourself as I instructed?”
“Yes, I did, Sir,” she answered, wishing he’d look at her, wanting to see if she affected him even half as much as he drew a response from her.
“Lie down on the bed, arms at your sides, legs together, eyes closed,” he said without turning.
Following his instruction, she lay down and waited several long minutes, listening to the rainfall on the roof until the bed shifted on the right side from his weight.
She could feel him sitting beside her, bracing one hand near her head and tracing her skin with his fingertips.“So very beautiful, Eleanor,” he said in a voice that poured over her smooth as molasses. “I can’t say it enough to match your beauty.”
His warm palm ran across her stomach, up along her ribs, causing the silk to glide across her skin.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to come to me. Much longer than these past two eternal months, I assure you.”
His fingers traced her delicate collarbone, sliding up the tender flesh of her neck to cup her face. A breath later, she felt the faintest brush of his lips against hers before his tongue coaxed them to open. Without the use of her sight, her other senses spiked into hyperawareness. His skin smelled of the storm, the clean masculine scent and the heat of his body flooding her as his mouth claimed hers.
Ellie’s hand drifted upward, aching to touch him, to wind her fingers through his short dark hair, to pull him closer. The sudden loss of his mouth on hers made her cry out in protest, but his low warning shushed her.
“I said arms at your sides, girl,” he growled. She felt the bed shift as he moved away from her, keenly aware of the absence of the warmth shielding her body from the breeze.
Worried that she’d disappointed him, that he’d leave, she flattened her palms against the cool sheet. “Sorry, Sir,” she whispered. “It’s so hard not to touch you, when I want you so bad.”
“I know, I know, girl,” he crooned in sympathy. “You want to so bad it hurts, doesn’t it?”
“It does. I can hardly stand it.”
“But you will,” he stated, all sympathy erased from his voice. “You will stand it. And you can. I should know.”
In a heartbeat, his breath was at her ear again, his words dancing across the skin of her neck. “You will bear it for me, Eleanor. As I endured for you. Do you think it was hard for me, waiting two long months to touch you?”
He gave a short laugh, “Try three years’ worth of Sundays. Dreading that day, knowing the torture I was putting myself through by sitting so near you, never able to touch you like I wanted to, claim what I knew should belong to me. Yet unable to refuse the chance just to see you, excited by the hope that one day your smile would be for me.”
A light kiss on her brow softened the ragged edge of his next words. “How much harder, do you think, to find you bound by your own hand?”
His lips brushed hers as his hand ghosted over the sheer fabric covering her belly. “Knowing you wanted what I wanted...” she tossed her head back, baring her throat as his mouth found the throbbing pulse of her neck. John’s fingers drifted down past the edge of the silk, tracing over the skin of her thighs, “…so ready for me...” his warm hand slid down between her inner thighs, stroking the tender flesh, “…not for him, but for me… seeing you displayed like that, smelling the need heavy on your skin, wanting to bury myself hilt-deep in you, over and over. And knowing I had to walk away?”
A ragged shudder tore through her as he took his time, drawing small patterns on her skin, the tips of his fingers edging ever so slowly toward the sheer silky panties. “So yes, girl, you can bear it. You’re capable of so much more than you give yourself credit for. I’m gonna help you prove that to me… to yourself.”
Ellie felt the flood of heat sear through her, a new wetness slicking the aroused flesh beneath the silk when he left off the feathery touches and his large, warm hand possessively cupped her mound. He must have felt the moisture his touch created, but she barely had time to register that thought as an electric jolt shot from her left nipple. Rasping his tongue across the sheer-covered bud, John drew the peak into his mouth, silk and all, letting his teeth catch hold of the sensitive kernel as he pulled back. She heard him chuckle at her body’s response, her back arching up and her hands desperately gripping the sheet to keep from leaving their position. He gave a little shake of his head, the nipple still trapped, carefully but resolutely, between his teeth.
Releasing her, he laughed again, low and sexy and dangerous. “You’ve thought about me for a long time, haven’t you Eleanor? Admit it.”
The admission froze in her throat as he moved lightning-quick to the other breast, giving it the same treatment.
“Yes!” she gasped, her awareness narrowing to the sensations of his mouth and voice and the long, wonderful fingers that had started moving without hurry between her legs. A sharper squeeze of teeth on nipple reminded her of his earlier instructions. “Yes, Sir!”
“You thought of this, thought of me doing this to you when you chained yourself.” He caressed her wet center through the panties, the glide of skin on silk on newly shaved skin causing her legs to fall open a bit more, despite her half-hazed efforts to keep them together. “Didn’t you, girl?”
“Yes…I did.”
He raked a fingernail lightly along the damp crease.
“Even when you were with Devon, you ached for me to touch you like this. Wanted me to do things to you that he wouldn’t. Things he could never bring himself to do to you.”
“Yes!” she whispered adamantly. “Yes, ached for you, even then. Sir.”
“How did that make you feel, Eleanor? Did it bother you, that you were thinking of me when you were still with him?”
“I felt…,” she said quietly, another blush staining her cheeks. “I felt guilty. Still feel guilty.”
“Oh, baby, I don’t want that, do you?” he crooned in her ear. “I don’t want it on your mind, the weight of it laying silent between us. Don’t you want to release that guilt?”
“I do!” she sobbed from both the desperate need to be rid of it and the ardent response to his touch. “I don’t want it any more, John, I want it gone! But I don’t know how to make it go away.”
“I want it to go away too, sweetheart. I told you - when you gave yourself to me, when I made you mine, there won’t be any other man’s claim on you. Not physical. Not emotional. Not mental. And holding onto this guilt is giving another man an emotional and mental claim on what’s mine. I won’t have it,” he said fiercely.
“You were naughty, and naughty girls get punished. What kind of punishment do you think you’ve earned? I hardly think a time-out would do the trick. And grounding, well, that’s just not going to work for anyone. How should you make amends for the dirty thoughts you had about me while Devon was fucking you?”
She said it so low he almost missed it. “What was that, darling?”
“I said…you should spank me, Sir.”
*~*~*~*~*
To Be Continued…