Co-Authored FIC: Insatiable (14/?)
Title: Insatiable (14/??)
Authors: Skyblue Rae & Laenwyn
Genre: PWP - but lots of plot, Adult
Rating: NC-17
Continuity: AU
Summary: She didn't want to look him in the eye, and not because she was scared. She didn't want him to look into her eyes and see something there.
Authors' Notes 1: Affectionately referred to as the 'Daddy Vic/Lolita Rogue fic' until we finally came up with a name just a few days ago. Our story takes place in a post-MRA world where mutants need to flee north to survive and even then have no rights - especially female mutants. Victor Creed finds ways around the system though and possibly operates above the law - so what happens when he spies a runaway that sparks more than just a bit of his interest?
A/N 2: This may just be the longest PWP in history, but promises to be loads of fun! No beta on this one, so forgive us our errors. Lots of love to Monkie for the lovely icon.
Warning: Underage Rogue here. Picture her at the beginning of X-1, high school age. We in no way encourage th is irl, but definitely in our smutty Vic-fiction.
****************************
The next day Rogue awoke more rested than she'd felt in weeks. She didn't want to think about the whys of her good night's sleep, so she busied herself getting showered and dressed and hurried downstairs for breakfast. Creed wasn't out with work, but he was locked away in the basement, busy doing ... whatever it was he did down there. It didn't look as if any breakfast had been made, so Rogue pulled out everything she needed to fix herself her favorite breakfast. The stuff that Creed seemed to like for breakfast - anything that was protein and artery clogging - was okay, but she figured a little variety couldn't hurt. Plus, she'd been dying to have pancakes for weeks now, months even. Knowing Creed, he'd expect her to make him something to eat too, but who knew if he liked pancakes with jam. Hopefully he'd at least appreciate the effort she was making.
Rummaging through the fridge was like walking around a delicatessen. Rogue's mouth watered at the sight of it all. To her surprise she found a jar with a homemade label on it that read 'Bramble and blueberry jam'. A smile spread across her face before she could stop herself. Surely Victor hadn't actually made the jam himself. So he had a lot of land, and from what Rogue had seen the prospect of growing berries seemed good. He was interested in wildlife, she knew that already, but did that include picking berries and canning his own stuff? Well, he never ceased to amaze and surprise her - so why not? It was even less likely that someone's dear old grandma from down the road had stopped by to gift him with it. No, he probably stole it from someone's house. Now that was likely. She shrugged and went about making the pancakes.
Rogue had successfully managed to fight back any thoughts of the night before, but as she went into the den to fetch something to read while she ate, her eyes darted towards the dining room table. Her cheeks felt hot as she tried not to stare. Good God, she thought. If her friends knew what she'd done last night, or even worse - if her mother knew. What Creed had done to her - she couldn't even phrase the words in her head. It had felt amazing. She wanted to feel like that again, but there was no way she'd ever ask him. No doubt he would want to do it again, of this she was sure. She'd spent almost a month in his home and the only thing she was sure of was that he'd want to do those type 'activities' again.
"I made breakfast!" she yelled through the basement door with no idea if he could hear her or not. "If you're hungry!" she yelled again.
When she got no response, she sat down at the counter to eat alone. Minutes passed and deeply distracted by a book, "Mating Habits of the Family Felidae - Panthera", Rogue didn't hear Creed walking into the kitchen. Silently he approached as she read and sipped her coffee.
"Light reading?" he asked smugly from right behind her, making her jump.
Rogue pushed the book away a bit, startled. "When did - No. No, just ... something to look at. There were pictures - I mean, you don't have any - I couldn't find anything good to read," she stammered, closing the book.
Creed's brow wrinkled at her loss of composure. She was always a bit wary, but she was acting like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Seeing the title across the cover, he indicated her plate to get her mind on other things.
"Looks good. You fix me some?"
Relieved at his interest in breakfast, she went to work pouring batter for fresh, hot pancakes for him. She really had just picked up the book on a lark because it had beautiful photographs, but she'd just gotten to a part about the larger felines scenting and marking their females before and during mating. Something about the passage had thrown her into the vivid memory about the last two nights she'd spent with Creed. Her mind had wandered into nighttime, with him in her bed and her in his arms, and the thoughts were pleasant. More than pleasant. Then he'd come right up behind her, as silent and deadly as those cats she'd been reading about, totally startling and frustrating her.
Rogue didn't have to turn around to know Creed was following her every move. It was nerve wracking, the way he studied her sometimes. Especially when she'd been doing or thinking something she'd prefer he didn't know about. It was his fault she was thinking that way to begin with! Why did he have to somehow know things about her? And even worse, why did he always have to make her mind go there? She really disliked the yo-yo mood; going from feeling good to being angry with him. Like now; it wasn't her fault he didn't own any normal books, safe books like ... well, not like '120 days of Sodom'.
He had to go and own books that made her think about him and then he came around to look smug and boast, but certainly not do what she knew he was thinking about! He was looking at her like that and what was on his mind just hung there in the air between them, yet he acted like he was only interested in pancakes.
"Here," she said, thrusting a full plate towards him. Rogue knew her temper was showing, but she couldn't help it anymore than her body could help reacting to Creed's hands on her skin. He had to know what he was doing, or was he going to taunt her like this forever?
"Rogue, you're forgetting something," he said, and reached around her for the jar containing jam.
She met his gaze for a while, glaring, and then went back to the counter to finish her pancakes.
She was still being stubborn, he thought, fighting where her body and now her mind wanted to go. He could feel her aggravation, yet she didn't say a word. Could she imagine that he was going to enjoy this most of all? Rogue was sore and apprehensive after their nights together, but another part of her wanted more. Her natural curiosity and love of new experiences were nudging her towards wanting more.
If he were her high school sweetheart, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel. She'd think she was 'in love' and that it was okay. As it were, she'd fight her instincts with what she thought was 'right' and 'acceptable'. It didn't matter. The struggle would only make it more interesting. He'd get to savor each of her eye opening experiences and watch as the true Rogue took over. After what he'd made her feel last night, he expected their time together would only get better. Still, he couldn't help but grin because of her pouting face. Did she even recognize why she was pouting?
Creed sighed impatiently. "Unless you're in pain, I want you to wipe away that sullen look. Got it?"
Rogue faked a smile. "Better?"
She thought she was so clever. His little fawn probably knew she was on thin ice, teasing him like that, but he doubted she thought he'd discipline her again. As it was, he could've done that several times already, but then she'd have trouble sitting down.
"Come here," he said firmly, still looking down at his pancakes.
She hesitated, her fork frozen in the air. Rogue either thought he was going to have her for 'dessert' again or worse. When she didn't make any move to do as she'd been told, Creed shot her a glance. It was enough for Rogue to scramble to her feet. She looked a little uncertain standing next to him.
He eyed her until she began to blush, hoping she'd get the point.
"Why do you look so flustered, Rogue? Is it because I'm ordering you around - or some other reason?" he asked, intentionally bating her. "You better get over not liking my orders. Didn't I explain that the other day? You should know the rules by now."
"I do, but -"
Creed seized one of her wrists. "But what? What? Tell me, because this is getting tiresome and I'm beginning to think you have a problem with the house rules."
Her heart was beating out a staccato rhythm now and Creed knew she was expecting something completely perverse to happen.
"Come here, baby girl. Closer," he said, his voice dropping.
Rogue slid her feet forward, moving towards him slowly, expectantly. Creed lifted his hand as if to caress her body, but then moved it higher to wipe against the sticky corner of her mouth.
"You had some jam, just there," he indicated the area next to his mouth as he smugly went back to eating his breakfast, clearly dismissing her.
Rogue stood there, caught totally off guard, staring at his bent forehead as he devoured the pancakes and ignored her. It took all of her self control not to huff out loud. What the hell was that supposed to be, she thought. Had he just shunned her? He didn't even touch her even though he'd had that look and used that voice. She flopped back down on her stool, unsure as to why she was so put out, and a quiet mumble escaped her lips.
"Wha?" Creed questioned over a mouthful. "You don't like your breakfast?"
"Breakfast is fine," she answered shortly, and finished it in silence.
As soon as he'd finished with his food, Creed returned to the basement leaving Rogue alone in the kitchen. She cleaned up and spent the rest of the day wondering why he ran so hot and cold.
Sometime around the early evening, she decided she didn't care. It didn't make any difference to her, she told herself, if he couldn't keep his hands off her one minute and the next he didn't even notice her. She didn't want his notice anyway.
With this in mind, she settled in to watch something on television after having dinner alone. There was nothing of much interest on the tube, so she spent more time flipping through channels than actually watching anything. Half way into a 'reality' TV program, Creed emerged from his black hole. What did he do down there all day? It didn't matter.
"What the hell are you watching?" he asked, his face crinkled in distaste.
Rogue wouldn't look at him as she answered, "A show about these rich girls' sixteenth birthday."
"Ah," he replied knowingly, "spoiled brats."
She listened to him rattle around in the kitchen, heating up the leftovers on his own. He sat on the stool, wolfing down his dinner and every now and then making noises in response to what was on the television. Finally he sat down next to her, grabbing the remote from the arm rest.
"This shit has *got* to go," he said, changing channels.
Rogue slid towards the arm of the sofa, pulling her feet closer so they weren't touching his thigh. Without a word or taking his eyes off the TV screen, Creed reached over and pulled her feet back to where they were. A thrill ran through her before she could squash it.
"This looks better," Creed announced, settling on a movie before lounging back to stretch out his long legs and prop his big, black work boots on the coffee table.
"Uh," Rogue mumbled quietly.
"What was that?" he cocked his head towards her.
"You should at least take your boots off. Floppin' those big ole things up on a clean table," she muttered. That was never allowed in her house.
"They ain't bothering me, but if you insist," he replied, smugly waving towards his feet.
She looked at him before realizing he expected her to take them off since she was the one that brought it up. Fine, she thought. At least he was listening to what she said, but if he thought she was going to refuse or snap at him like he expected her to, then he was sadly mistaken. She'd rather take off his boots every single day than clean the coffee table just as often. Some things her mother taught her were never going to change. Plus, she liked living in a clean house. Since she'd started to take care of some domestic chores, he could at least have the courtesy not to put his feet on the table.
Rogue placed Creed's boots beside the couch. She felt a small rush of satisfaction at him not succeeding in getting her riled up. His intent gaze weighed her down, though, and her instincts told her he was up to something. Trying her damndest to appear as calm as she wished she were, Rogue met his stare without budging an inch.
"That better?" he said, grinning and reaching for her hands.
She returned a smile and it was genuine, but he was making her nervous again, talking with that lazy, low pitched voice that she now loathed and loved at the same time. Creed pulled her to her feet to stand in front of him.
"This is my favorite part of the movie," he said smugly, nodding towards the TV, "don't you agree?"
Glancing over her shoulder, Rogue felt her cheeks grow warm. There was a man lying on a huge bed, and he was tied to the headboard with a white silk scarf. A blonde woman was on top of him, rocking back and forth while moaning loudly. Rogue couldn't think of anything to say; she knew Creed wanted her to say no just so he could taunt her about it. She knew he'd turn it against her, insisting she liked what was on TV - and maybe she did, but she wasn't going to admit to it.
He turned up the volume. "Sounds like they're havin' fun."
Rogue was torn between wanting to flee the room and giving into Creed's insinuations. Was it normal to sound like that woman during sex? It didn't sound like she was in pain and the vivid images on screen caused Rogue to look away and study the wall instead. She'd never seen the movie before, but she recognized the actress as Sharon Stone.
Creed eyed Rogue intently, shifting his position so he could stretch out his legs between hers. She frowned slightly at him, which only made him grin back at her. Except for a lack of shoes, they were both fully dressed. It made it better; he thought and slowly pulled her towards him. It was obvious she wanted to ask him what he was doing, but she didn't. Instead she bit down on her lip, staring a hole through the wall as he pulled her in to straddle his lap.
He gave her a toothy grin, letting his hands rest on her hips. "Something wrong with the wall, baby girl?"
"Uh ... no," she mumbled, and lowered her eyes.
"So, why don't you look at me instead?"
Rogue placed her hands on his forearms, like she was trying to push him away. She didn't want to look him in the eye, and not because she was scared. She didn't want him to look into her eyes and see something there. It was bad enough that she could feel him through her jeans, and even worse; he didn't seem the least bit bothered by it. In fact, he pulled her as close as he could, so that her breasts were pushed up against his chest. The look in his eyes was one she'd seen before, and it meant only one thing, and all the while she had no way to block out the sounds from the movie.
"So ... ah ... what movie is it?" she asked, trying to sound casual about it.
"Basic Instinct."
"I've heard of it."
Creed cocked an eyebrow at her. "Really? What have you heard?"
Rogue bit her lip again. She knew what he was getting at, and that he probably expected her to avoid answering the question.
"That there's a lot of violence and murder ... and sex," she said.
He smirked at her, "You mean fucking?"
Rogue mumbled something; there was no way she could bring herself to say that word out loud.
"It looks like she's enjoying herself," Creed said, nodding towards the movie behind her. "I bet she's so hot for him," he spoke with that low, taunting voice again, "and wet. Don't you think so, baby girl?" He pressed her against his crotch, as if to add some emphasis to what he'd just said.
Rogue heard herself inhale, much to Creed's satisfaction. She wanted to free herself of his grasp, but he made sure she couldn't.
"Tell me, Rogue, what are they doing?"
She knew what they had to be doing without even looking, but to say it out loud? And to him? He just wanted to tease her. Creed, on the other hand, was far too smug about it. He gently grabbed her chin to turn her head towards the TV.
"You know what that woman's doin'? She's fuckin' him, baby girl," he murmured close to her ear.
What did he expect her to say? The way he was talking to her, it was bad so why did it make her feel good inside?
"Wanna try?"
"No! I mean ..." she tried, because she knew better than to go against his rules.
Creed turned her face towards his again. "What?"
"I ... I don't know. I don't know how anyway," she mumbled.
Sighing, he squeezed her hips. "Sure you do." He slid his hands down to cup her bottom. "Like this," he continued, while using his hands to move her up and down.
Rogue felt like her cheeks were on fire - which wasn't anything new - and forced herself not to gape at him in shock. It wasn't that she thought he'd never want to sleep with her again, or that she hadn't imagined doing it too. It was the sudden realization that there might be other ways he'd want her. She hadn't thought about that; she didn't want to think about it now.
Creed released her and placed his hands behind his head to lean back against the couch. He gave her another one of his predatory smiles, clearly enjoying himself.
"Don't stop, baby. Keep going," he said. "You're from the south, aren't you?" he asked at her confused expression.
Rogue nodded. There should've been some reassurance because she was still fully dressed, but there wasn't. Somehow, to mock the ac made it even more perverse. Unsure of what do to, so she simply placed the palm of her hands against Victor's chest.
He gave the eyebrow. "So? Answer me. Didn't your folks ever take you horse back riding?"
What did that have to do with anything? "No, but I used to go with some of my girl friends," she said, wondering what he was getting at.
Creed grinned at her. She looked so confused, but then it dawned on her what he'd insinuated. He loved those moments. Rogue tried to hide her flushing cheeks behind her curtain of hair. Unable to keep from laughing quietly at her reaction, he ground his crotch against her as if to encourage her.
"Come on, Rogue. Show me how you'd ride me," he purred.
Rogue's mouth fell open. She couldn't believe what he was asking her to do. Creed only kept grinning at her. "But -"
"Just pretend I'm your horsie, baby girl."
The way he said 'horsie', like something dirty, made Rogue want to die. Surely he didn't actually mean she should do what Sharon Stone's character was doing.
Suddenly, Creed grabbed her to shift her so her back was against him instead. He slid his hands up to rest just below her breasts.
"See. You don't even have to look at me if that makes it easier," he murmured close to her ear. "Go on now ... make daddy proud."
The way he was talking had a way of making her head spin, yet her skin crawl at the same time. That just couldn't be normal, but it sure was nice.
Uncertain if she was doing it the right way, Rogue tried moving the way Creed had showed her to. Like in the movie, but she didn't dare make any noise. Instead she clenched her jaw to keep from whimpering. It felt good, grinding herself against him, but it was bad! It was indecent, and she was a decent girl. She really was!
Creed leaned forward to nuzzle Rogue's neck and inhale her scent. She was still embarrassed, but her arousal was there just the same. He knew she wouldn't admit to it, but it didn't matter for now, in time she would. It took a lot of effort on his part, not to push her down to all fours so he could take her right there.
He heard a soft whimper from her, despite her struggle to contain it and she voluntarily rubbed back against him. With both feet, Creed shoved the coffee table forward and kneeled forward until he had Rogue on all fours underneath him. He couldn't resist licking the skin on her neck and when it was obvious she enjoyed it, he nipped at her lightly.
"You know we can do it this way too," he purred.
She couldn't explain how she felt or how fast it was all happening, all Rogue knew was that even though a part of her was stunned, another part was crying out for him to do more. Maybe she shouldn't want him, but she did! She still had moments where she detested him, even hated the way he acted towards her, but when they were like this, she only wanted more of him. It made her head swim.
With one arm wrapped around her waist, Creed pressed his palm into the vee between her thighs.
"You like this, don't you baby?"
He sounded so confident and it made her want to give in and fight back at the same time.
"No," she forced out.
"Liar," he growled, but there was humor in the sound of it.
Even through her fuzzy brain, somewhere, Rogue heard bells. No, not bells ... an alarm? No - it was a phone ringing.
"Dammit," she heard him grumble behind her, hesitating to get up.
His cell phone rang again from inside his pants pocket. Creed stood reluctantly, leaving her on the floor. Alone, she felt like a fool down on her hands and knees, she turned to sit and watch him. His side of the conversation was mostly grunts of affirmative so she could tell nothing about the discussion.
"Now?" she heard him ask. "Then it's gonna be double," he said. "Consider it done."
Ending the call, Creed looked down at her. "We ain't done here, baby girl," he said, stooping down. "I gotta take care of something, but we'll finish this later." Rogue nodded numbly. She could hear the slight strain in his voice and couldn't help feeling relieved that she wasn't the only one put out by the interruption. She looked up to find him already headed towards the basement. He reappeared with a bag in one hand, locking the door with the other. Her eyes followed him on his way out but they never said another word to each other.
Creed locked the front door, setting the alarm. He couldn't stop this satisfied feeling, because like it or not, his little fawn had been disappointed with his leaving just as she'd been disappointed with his lack of attention this morning. Maybe she'd come around faster than he thought. A knowing grin spread full across his face.
Authors: Skyblue Rae & Laenwyn
Genre: PWP - but lots of plot, Adult
Rating: NC-17
Continuity: AU
Summary: She didn't want to look him in the eye, and not because she was scared. She didn't want him to look into her eyes and see something there.
Authors' Notes 1: Affectionately referred to as the 'Daddy Vic/Lolita Rogue fic' until we finally came up with a name just a few days ago. Our story takes place in a post-MRA world where mutants need to flee north to survive and even then have no rights - especially female mutants. Victor Creed finds ways around the system though and possibly operates above the law - so what happens when he spies a runaway that sparks more than just a bit of his interest?
A/N 2: This may just be the longest PWP in history, but promises to be loads of fun! No beta on this one, so forgive us our errors. Lots of love to Monkie for the lovely icon.
Warning: Underage Rogue here. Picture her at the beginning of X-1, high school age. We in no way encourage th is irl, but definitely in our smutty Vic-fiction.
****************************
The next day Rogue awoke more rested than she'd felt in weeks. She didn't want to think about the whys of her good night's sleep, so she busied herself getting showered and dressed and hurried downstairs for breakfast. Creed wasn't out with work, but he was locked away in the basement, busy doing ... whatever it was he did down there. It didn't look as if any breakfast had been made, so Rogue pulled out everything she needed to fix herself her favorite breakfast. The stuff that Creed seemed to like for breakfast - anything that was protein and artery clogging - was okay, but she figured a little variety couldn't hurt. Plus, she'd been dying to have pancakes for weeks now, months even. Knowing Creed, he'd expect her to make him something to eat too, but who knew if he liked pancakes with jam. Hopefully he'd at least appreciate the effort she was making.
Rummaging through the fridge was like walking around a delicatessen. Rogue's mouth watered at the sight of it all. To her surprise she found a jar with a homemade label on it that read 'Bramble and blueberry jam'. A smile spread across her face before she could stop herself. Surely Victor hadn't actually made the jam himself. So he had a lot of land, and from what Rogue had seen the prospect of growing berries seemed good. He was interested in wildlife, she knew that already, but did that include picking berries and canning his own stuff? Well, he never ceased to amaze and surprise her - so why not? It was even less likely that someone's dear old grandma from down the road had stopped by to gift him with it. No, he probably stole it from someone's house. Now that was likely. She shrugged and went about making the pancakes.
Rogue had successfully managed to fight back any thoughts of the night before, but as she went into the den to fetch something to read while she ate, her eyes darted towards the dining room table. Her cheeks felt hot as she tried not to stare. Good God, she thought. If her friends knew what she'd done last night, or even worse - if her mother knew. What Creed had done to her - she couldn't even phrase the words in her head. It had felt amazing. She wanted to feel like that again, but there was no way she'd ever ask him. No doubt he would want to do it again, of this she was sure. She'd spent almost a month in his home and the only thing she was sure of was that he'd want to do those type 'activities' again.
"I made breakfast!" she yelled through the basement door with no idea if he could hear her or not. "If you're hungry!" she yelled again.
When she got no response, she sat down at the counter to eat alone. Minutes passed and deeply distracted by a book, "Mating Habits of the Family Felidae - Panthera", Rogue didn't hear Creed walking into the kitchen. Silently he approached as she read and sipped her coffee.
"Light reading?" he asked smugly from right behind her, making her jump.
Rogue pushed the book away a bit, startled. "When did - No. No, just ... something to look at. There were pictures - I mean, you don't have any - I couldn't find anything good to read," she stammered, closing the book.
Creed's brow wrinkled at her loss of composure. She was always a bit wary, but she was acting like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Seeing the title across the cover, he indicated her plate to get her mind on other things.
"Looks good. You fix me some?"
Relieved at his interest in breakfast, she went to work pouring batter for fresh, hot pancakes for him. She really had just picked up the book on a lark because it had beautiful photographs, but she'd just gotten to a part about the larger felines scenting and marking their females before and during mating. Something about the passage had thrown her into the vivid memory about the last two nights she'd spent with Creed. Her mind had wandered into nighttime, with him in her bed and her in his arms, and the thoughts were pleasant. More than pleasant. Then he'd come right up behind her, as silent and deadly as those cats she'd been reading about, totally startling and frustrating her.
Rogue didn't have to turn around to know Creed was following her every move. It was nerve wracking, the way he studied her sometimes. Especially when she'd been doing or thinking something she'd prefer he didn't know about. It was his fault she was thinking that way to begin with! Why did he have to somehow know things about her? And even worse, why did he always have to make her mind go there? She really disliked the yo-yo mood; going from feeling good to being angry with him. Like now; it wasn't her fault he didn't own any normal books, safe books like ... well, not like '120 days of Sodom'.
He had to go and own books that made her think about him and then he came around to look smug and boast, but certainly not do what she knew he was thinking about! He was looking at her like that and what was on his mind just hung there in the air between them, yet he acted like he was only interested in pancakes.
"Here," she said, thrusting a full plate towards him. Rogue knew her temper was showing, but she couldn't help it anymore than her body could help reacting to Creed's hands on her skin. He had to know what he was doing, or was he going to taunt her like this forever?
"Rogue, you're forgetting something," he said, and reached around her for the jar containing jam.
She met his gaze for a while, glaring, and then went back to the counter to finish her pancakes.
She was still being stubborn, he thought, fighting where her body and now her mind wanted to go. He could feel her aggravation, yet she didn't say a word. Could she imagine that he was going to enjoy this most of all? Rogue was sore and apprehensive after their nights together, but another part of her wanted more. Her natural curiosity and love of new experiences were nudging her towards wanting more.
If he were her high school sweetheart, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel. She'd think she was 'in love' and that it was okay. As it were, she'd fight her instincts with what she thought was 'right' and 'acceptable'. It didn't matter. The struggle would only make it more interesting. He'd get to savor each of her eye opening experiences and watch as the true Rogue took over. After what he'd made her feel last night, he expected their time together would only get better. Still, he couldn't help but grin because of her pouting face. Did she even recognize why she was pouting?
Creed sighed impatiently. "Unless you're in pain, I want you to wipe away that sullen look. Got it?"
Rogue faked a smile. "Better?"
She thought she was so clever. His little fawn probably knew she was on thin ice, teasing him like that, but he doubted she thought he'd discipline her again. As it was, he could've done that several times already, but then she'd have trouble sitting down.
"Come here," he said firmly, still looking down at his pancakes.
She hesitated, her fork frozen in the air. Rogue either thought he was going to have her for 'dessert' again or worse. When she didn't make any move to do as she'd been told, Creed shot her a glance. It was enough for Rogue to scramble to her feet. She looked a little uncertain standing next to him.
He eyed her until she began to blush, hoping she'd get the point.
"Why do you look so flustered, Rogue? Is it because I'm ordering you around - or some other reason?" he asked, intentionally bating her. "You better get over not liking my orders. Didn't I explain that the other day? You should know the rules by now."
"I do, but -"
Creed seized one of her wrists. "But what? What? Tell me, because this is getting tiresome and I'm beginning to think you have a problem with the house rules."
Her heart was beating out a staccato rhythm now and Creed knew she was expecting something completely perverse to happen.
"Come here, baby girl. Closer," he said, his voice dropping.
Rogue slid her feet forward, moving towards him slowly, expectantly. Creed lifted his hand as if to caress her body, but then moved it higher to wipe against the sticky corner of her mouth.
"You had some jam, just there," he indicated the area next to his mouth as he smugly went back to eating his breakfast, clearly dismissing her.
Rogue stood there, caught totally off guard, staring at his bent forehead as he devoured the pancakes and ignored her. It took all of her self control not to huff out loud. What the hell was that supposed to be, she thought. Had he just shunned her? He didn't even touch her even though he'd had that look and used that voice. She flopped back down on her stool, unsure as to why she was so put out, and a quiet mumble escaped her lips.
"Wha?" Creed questioned over a mouthful. "You don't like your breakfast?"
"Breakfast is fine," she answered shortly, and finished it in silence.
As soon as he'd finished with his food, Creed returned to the basement leaving Rogue alone in the kitchen. She cleaned up and spent the rest of the day wondering why he ran so hot and cold.
Sometime around the early evening, she decided she didn't care. It didn't make any difference to her, she told herself, if he couldn't keep his hands off her one minute and the next he didn't even notice her. She didn't want his notice anyway.
With this in mind, she settled in to watch something on television after having dinner alone. There was nothing of much interest on the tube, so she spent more time flipping through channels than actually watching anything. Half way into a 'reality' TV program, Creed emerged from his black hole. What did he do down there all day? It didn't matter.
"What the hell are you watching?" he asked, his face crinkled in distaste.
Rogue wouldn't look at him as she answered, "A show about these rich girls' sixteenth birthday."
"Ah," he replied knowingly, "spoiled brats."
She listened to him rattle around in the kitchen, heating up the leftovers on his own. He sat on the stool, wolfing down his dinner and every now and then making noises in response to what was on the television. Finally he sat down next to her, grabbing the remote from the arm rest.
"This shit has *got* to go," he said, changing channels.
Rogue slid towards the arm of the sofa, pulling her feet closer so they weren't touching his thigh. Without a word or taking his eyes off the TV screen, Creed reached over and pulled her feet back to where they were. A thrill ran through her before she could squash it.
"This looks better," Creed announced, settling on a movie before lounging back to stretch out his long legs and prop his big, black work boots on the coffee table.
"Uh," Rogue mumbled quietly.
"What was that?" he cocked his head towards her.
"You should at least take your boots off. Floppin' those big ole things up on a clean table," she muttered. That was never allowed in her house.
"They ain't bothering me, but if you insist," he replied, smugly waving towards his feet.
She looked at him before realizing he expected her to take them off since she was the one that brought it up. Fine, she thought. At least he was listening to what she said, but if he thought she was going to refuse or snap at him like he expected her to, then he was sadly mistaken. She'd rather take off his boots every single day than clean the coffee table just as often. Some things her mother taught her were never going to change. Plus, she liked living in a clean house. Since she'd started to take care of some domestic chores, he could at least have the courtesy not to put his feet on the table.
Rogue placed Creed's boots beside the couch. She felt a small rush of satisfaction at him not succeeding in getting her riled up. His intent gaze weighed her down, though, and her instincts told her he was up to something. Trying her damndest to appear as calm as she wished she were, Rogue met his stare without budging an inch.
"That better?" he said, grinning and reaching for her hands.
She returned a smile and it was genuine, but he was making her nervous again, talking with that lazy, low pitched voice that she now loathed and loved at the same time. Creed pulled her to her feet to stand in front of him.
"This is my favorite part of the movie," he said smugly, nodding towards the TV, "don't you agree?"
Glancing over her shoulder, Rogue felt her cheeks grow warm. There was a man lying on a huge bed, and he was tied to the headboard with a white silk scarf. A blonde woman was on top of him, rocking back and forth while moaning loudly. Rogue couldn't think of anything to say; she knew Creed wanted her to say no just so he could taunt her about it. She knew he'd turn it against her, insisting she liked what was on TV - and maybe she did, but she wasn't going to admit to it.
He turned up the volume. "Sounds like they're havin' fun."
Rogue was torn between wanting to flee the room and giving into Creed's insinuations. Was it normal to sound like that woman during sex? It didn't sound like she was in pain and the vivid images on screen caused Rogue to look away and study the wall instead. She'd never seen the movie before, but she recognized the actress as Sharon Stone.
Creed eyed Rogue intently, shifting his position so he could stretch out his legs between hers. She frowned slightly at him, which only made him grin back at her. Except for a lack of shoes, they were both fully dressed. It made it better; he thought and slowly pulled her towards him. It was obvious she wanted to ask him what he was doing, but she didn't. Instead she bit down on her lip, staring a hole through the wall as he pulled her in to straddle his lap.
He gave her a toothy grin, letting his hands rest on her hips. "Something wrong with the wall, baby girl?"
"Uh ... no," she mumbled, and lowered her eyes.
"So, why don't you look at me instead?"
Rogue placed her hands on his forearms, like she was trying to push him away. She didn't want to look him in the eye, and not because she was scared. She didn't want him to look into her eyes and see something there. It was bad enough that she could feel him through her jeans, and even worse; he didn't seem the least bit bothered by it. In fact, he pulled her as close as he could, so that her breasts were pushed up against his chest. The look in his eyes was one she'd seen before, and it meant only one thing, and all the while she had no way to block out the sounds from the movie.
"So ... ah ... what movie is it?" she asked, trying to sound casual about it.
"Basic Instinct."
"I've heard of it."
Creed cocked an eyebrow at her. "Really? What have you heard?"
Rogue bit her lip again. She knew what he was getting at, and that he probably expected her to avoid answering the question.
"That there's a lot of violence and murder ... and sex," she said.
He smirked at her, "You mean fucking?"
Rogue mumbled something; there was no way she could bring herself to say that word out loud.
"It looks like she's enjoying herself," Creed said, nodding towards the movie behind her. "I bet she's so hot for him," he spoke with that low, taunting voice again, "and wet. Don't you think so, baby girl?" He pressed her against his crotch, as if to add some emphasis to what he'd just said.
Rogue heard herself inhale, much to Creed's satisfaction. She wanted to free herself of his grasp, but he made sure she couldn't.
"Tell me, Rogue, what are they doing?"
She knew what they had to be doing without even looking, but to say it out loud? And to him? He just wanted to tease her. Creed, on the other hand, was far too smug about it. He gently grabbed her chin to turn her head towards the TV.
"You know what that woman's doin'? She's fuckin' him, baby girl," he murmured close to her ear.
What did he expect her to say? The way he was talking to her, it was bad so why did it make her feel good inside?
"Wanna try?"
"No! I mean ..." she tried, because she knew better than to go against his rules.
Creed turned her face towards his again. "What?"
"I ... I don't know. I don't know how anyway," she mumbled.
Sighing, he squeezed her hips. "Sure you do." He slid his hands down to cup her bottom. "Like this," he continued, while using his hands to move her up and down.
Rogue felt like her cheeks were on fire - which wasn't anything new - and forced herself not to gape at him in shock. It wasn't that she thought he'd never want to sleep with her again, or that she hadn't imagined doing it too. It was the sudden realization that there might be other ways he'd want her. She hadn't thought about that; she didn't want to think about it now.
Creed released her and placed his hands behind his head to lean back against the couch. He gave her another one of his predatory smiles, clearly enjoying himself.
"Don't stop, baby. Keep going," he said. "You're from the south, aren't you?" he asked at her confused expression.
Rogue nodded. There should've been some reassurance because she was still fully dressed, but there wasn't. Somehow, to mock the ac made it even more perverse. Unsure of what do to, so she simply placed the palm of her hands against Victor's chest.
He gave the eyebrow. "So? Answer me. Didn't your folks ever take you horse back riding?"
What did that have to do with anything? "No, but I used to go with some of my girl friends," she said, wondering what he was getting at.
Creed grinned at her. She looked so confused, but then it dawned on her what he'd insinuated. He loved those moments. Rogue tried to hide her flushing cheeks behind her curtain of hair. Unable to keep from laughing quietly at her reaction, he ground his crotch against her as if to encourage her.
"Come on, Rogue. Show me how you'd ride me," he purred.
Rogue's mouth fell open. She couldn't believe what he was asking her to do. Creed only kept grinning at her. "But -"
"Just pretend I'm your horsie, baby girl."
The way he said 'horsie', like something dirty, made Rogue want to die. Surely he didn't actually mean she should do what Sharon Stone's character was doing.
Suddenly, Creed grabbed her to shift her so her back was against him instead. He slid his hands up to rest just below her breasts.
"See. You don't even have to look at me if that makes it easier," he murmured close to her ear. "Go on now ... make daddy proud."
The way he was talking had a way of making her head spin, yet her skin crawl at the same time. That just couldn't be normal, but it sure was nice.
Uncertain if she was doing it the right way, Rogue tried moving the way Creed had showed her to. Like in the movie, but she didn't dare make any noise. Instead she clenched her jaw to keep from whimpering. It felt good, grinding herself against him, but it was bad! It was indecent, and she was a decent girl. She really was!
Creed leaned forward to nuzzle Rogue's neck and inhale her scent. She was still embarrassed, but her arousal was there just the same. He knew she wouldn't admit to it, but it didn't matter for now, in time she would. It took a lot of effort on his part, not to push her down to all fours so he could take her right there.
He heard a soft whimper from her, despite her struggle to contain it and she voluntarily rubbed back against him. With both feet, Creed shoved the coffee table forward and kneeled forward until he had Rogue on all fours underneath him. He couldn't resist licking the skin on her neck and when it was obvious she enjoyed it, he nipped at her lightly.
"You know we can do it this way too," he purred.
She couldn't explain how she felt or how fast it was all happening, all Rogue knew was that even though a part of her was stunned, another part was crying out for him to do more. Maybe she shouldn't want him, but she did! She still had moments where she detested him, even hated the way he acted towards her, but when they were like this, she only wanted more of him. It made her head swim.
With one arm wrapped around her waist, Creed pressed his palm into the vee between her thighs.
"You like this, don't you baby?"
He sounded so confident and it made her want to give in and fight back at the same time.
"No," she forced out.
"Liar," he growled, but there was humor in the sound of it.
Even through her fuzzy brain, somewhere, Rogue heard bells. No, not bells ... an alarm? No - it was a phone ringing.
"Dammit," she heard him grumble behind her, hesitating to get up.
His cell phone rang again from inside his pants pocket. Creed stood reluctantly, leaving her on the floor. Alone, she felt like a fool down on her hands and knees, she turned to sit and watch him. His side of the conversation was mostly grunts of affirmative so she could tell nothing about the discussion.
"Now?" she heard him ask. "Then it's gonna be double," he said. "Consider it done."
Ending the call, Creed looked down at her. "We ain't done here, baby girl," he said, stooping down. "I gotta take care of something, but we'll finish this later." Rogue nodded numbly. She could hear the slight strain in his voice and couldn't help feeling relieved that she wasn't the only one put out by the interruption. She looked up to find him already headed towards the basement. He reappeared with a bag in one hand, locking the door with the other. Her eyes followed him on his way out but they never said another word to each other.
Creed locked the front door, setting the alarm. He couldn't stop this satisfied feeling, because like it or not, his little fawn had been disappointed with his leaving just as she'd been disappointed with his lack of attention this morning. Maybe she'd come around faster than he thought. A knowing grin spread full across his face.