Can and Will Be Used Against You - mutinousmuse
Title: Can and Will Be Used Against You
Author: mutinousmuse
Pairing/Character: V/L, V/L(amb)
Word Count: 4, 105
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Veronica gets hauled in. Smuttiness ensues.
Spoilers: Through 2x03
Author’s Notes: Inspired by the fabulous Lamb fans over at rack_of_lamb and written for the loveathons bondage challenge. Whatever you do, please do not link to this at rack_of_lamb, as Michael Muhney actually reads it. And as always, thanks immensely to queen_haq for the beta job. You are my hero. BTW, this fic intensely deserves its rating. By clicking the link below, you are verifying that you are 18 years old, and thus cannot sue me. Nor can your relatives.
Disclaimer: This show, like most things in the world, does not belong to me.
A/N: DID I MENTION I DON'T WANT THIS RECC'D OR LINKED ELSEWHERE? I DON'T. Okay, here's the fic..
Can and Will Be Used Against You
“My Dad is going to destroy you for this,” Veronica spat.
Don Lamb just grinned, left hand planted firmly on Veronica Mars’ back as he guided her into the cell. “I’d say the jury’s still out on that one,” he replied. “Isn’t your Dad out of town? And with no more obedient little boyfriend at your beck and call, I’d say it will be quite a while before anyone notices you’re missing.”
“How do you know I broke up with Duncan?” she asked, surprised.
“I don’t miss much.”
If this troubled her, she didn’t show it. She glanced around to the other cells and noticed that they were all empty, save her own.
“Slow day?” she asked.
Lamb just shrugged. “You could say that.” And then he was shoving her against the bars, slipping the handcuffs behind her, and shackling her wrists. She jerked sideways, but found that she was now attached to the bars of the cell. Her wrists were trapped behind her, and the handcuffs were wrapped around one of the bars.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she shouted.
“You’re not leaving until I get what I need out of you,” he said.
“This is completely illegal,” she hissed.
Lamb glanced down at his badge, and then back up at Veronica. “You don’t say?” She seethed. “Well you’d better make sure to file a report with the sheriff on your way out. I hear he’s quite ... competent.”
“I’ve told you everything I know.” Veronica’s voice had gone steely and cold. “That man worked with Aaron Echolls. He was a stunt coordinator. He rigged a crash just like the one with the school bus in one of Aaron’s films. Look it up for yourself. My theory is that Aaron wants me dead so I can’t testify in the trial. I don’t know how Moran ended up dead, I don’t know why he was stupid enough to sharpie my name on his hand, and I have no fucking clue why you think it has anything to do with me! Now will you kindly release me ... Sheriff?”
“Fine.” Lamb leaned over her and wrapped his arms around her torso and through the bars. Veronica breathed a sigh of relief as he reached around behind her, chest pressing into hers as he fumbled with the keys behind her back. The sigh turned into a gasp of shock as he tossed the keys outside of the cell and pulled back, smirking. “Oops.”
“Never mind my Dad,” she said. “I am going to destroy you.”
Lamb took in the flush of anger on Veronica’s face, noticing the way it crept beneath the collar of her shirt and traced its way down her chest. His eyes trailed down lower, hovering over the way her breasts were thrust forward as a result of her awkwardly bound position. Lower still, his eyes took in her short skirt and toned legs that tapered down into a sensible pair of sneakers.
Veronica shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “What’s the matter, Lamb? The missus not doing it for you any more? Oh, wait. There isn’t a Mrs. Lamb. I can’t imagine why.”
“I don’t know, Veronica.” Lamb leaned over her, breath heating her cheek. “You’ve always struck me as a rather imaginative girl.” He laughed, and she shivered.
“Get away from me,” she said, tamping down the shaking in her voice. She jerked forward in an attempt to shove him back, unintentionally slamming her hips into his. She gasped in shock as she realized how turned on he was; her shock deepened as a warm feeling spread throughout her belly in response. She felt herself moisten, and she flushed again - part disgust, part desire. She realized that her body was still pressed firmly against his, and she drew back as though burned. Her back pressed into the bars, and Lamb reached out and grabbed her chin. He forced her to meet his eyes, and she realized that when he’d said she wasn’t leaving until he got what he needed, he hadn’t been talking about information.
Fuck.
Lamb’s eyes turned a darker shade of blue, and suddenly his mouth was crushed against hers, hard body pressing hers more firmly into the bars behind her. The coolness of the metal contrasted with the fiery heat of his mouth, and goose bumps exploded across her flesh. He pulled back, eyes filled with conflicting emotions. He breathed her name, and his right hand lifted to trail the line of her bones beneath her face.
“What do you want from me?” Veronica’s voice shook.
Lamb let his hand drop from her face to her collarbone, trailing downwards towards the collar of her shirt. He tentatively unbuttoned the first button, fingers dipping beneath to trace the straps of her bra. The next button followed, and Veronica remained frozen. Soon her shirt was completely undone, and he shoved it down her arms. It hovered over her handcuffed wrists, spread over the bars beneath her back. His fingers stretched over the thin material of her white cotton bra, and he circled her nipples with his thumbs. They tightened instantly, and she threw her head back, inadvertently slamming into the bars behind her. The pain served only to intensify the feelings radiating out from her nipples, and she ground her hips forward into his.
“Fuck,” she hissed.
“Not yet,” he replied, tweaking her nipples harder.
She grunted, wrapping a leg around him and grinding his cock into her wet panties. She rotated against him in an attempt to release the pressure steadily building between her legs.
He stepped back and smirked. “Not until I say so,” he said. Veronica glared at him.
“I am going to hurt you,” she said.
“I’m counting on it.” His pocket suddenly exploded with sound, and he pulled out a pager. “Looks like I’ve got a visitor,” he said. He strode out of the cell, picked up the keys from the ground where he had tossed them, and pushed the door shut. It didn’t quite latch, but given her handcuffed state, he wasn’t overly concerned.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
”Duty calls.” He smirked, all too aware of the ache he had left thrumming between her legs.
“Um, my shirt?” she asked.
“Oh, right.” He grabbed the collar of the shirt and ripped it through the bars, seams splitting, material shredding. “How thoughtless of me.”
“What the fuck!” she shouted. He simply walked away, the remains of her shirt balled in his fist. As the door closed, she let out an enraged yell that reverberated off of the empty concrete walls and faded into oblivion.
The door swung open, and footsteps echoed down the hallway. “I hope you’re actually going to be reasonable this time,” she said.
“Veronica?” Logan’s voice was panicked. “What the fuck happened to you? What are you doing here? And where’s your shirt?”
“Logan?” Veronica attempted to look at him over her shoulder, but couldn’t crane her neck far enough around to see him. “How did you know I was here?”
“I saw you get into a cruiser at school, and when you didn’t come back for journalism, I...” Logan’s voice thickened and trailed off. “I was worried about you.”
Veronica was silent. She could hear Logan fidgeting behind her, the rapid dancing of his hands almost audible.
“Can you get me out of here?” she asked, voice subdued. “I don’t think he closed the door all the way. If you can get in here, I think I can talk you through picking the lock on these cuffs.”
Logan tried the door and it swung open easily. He stepped into the cell and moved to stand in front of her. She met his eyes, and then looked away. He took in her disheveled state and a dawning sense of horror crept over him. Her hair was askew, her lipstick was smeared messily across her mouth, her nipples were hard as rocks, the front of her skirt was shoved up around her hips, and the scent of her arousal assaulted him.
“Veronica,” he began. “What. Happened. To. Your. Shirt.”
“Lamb...” she began, but the words dried up.
Logan was having a hard time breathing. Between the musky scent of her pussy filling his lungs and the images of the fucking Sheriff touching what was by all rights his, he felt like he was going to pass out.
“Veronica,” he gasped out, voice cracking. “What the fuck?” He steadied himself against the bars, leaning over her in an attempt to remain upright.
“Logan, please,” she said. “Just get me the fuck out of here and I can explain.”
“I think -” he said, forcing the words out. “I think that you are going to explain this to me now.”
“This isn’t my fault, Logan,” she said. “He brought me back here, handcuffed me to the bars, and ripped off my shirt. This wasn’t my fucking idea!”
“Then why are you so wet I can smell you from five feet away?” he asked, voice dangerously low.
‘I don’t know,” she whispered.
A bitter laugh escaped him. “You don’t know,” he repeated, voice harsh. “You don’t fucking know.”
“Logan, please,” she whispered.
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe the great Veronica Mars just really likes being tied up.” And then his mouth was on hers, the words pouring soundlessly down her throat. You are mine. You are not Duncan’s. You are not Lamb’s. You belong to me. And I am going to show you that now.
For the second time in as many minutes, Veronica found herself being shoved back against the cool metal of the cell, but this time there was no layer of protective cloth between the bars and the skin of her back. She felt the metal grind bruisingly into her spine as Logan pressed against her. For the second time in as many minutes, Veronica felt herself soaking through her panties as her body disobeyed her commands and responded greedily to the hard male body slamming her against the cell.
Unlike Lamb, Logan’s hands didn’t hesitate. They had been here before. Her bra was torn away and tossed carelessly to the floor. Her skirt was shoved down her hips, and Veronica was completely naked save for her panties and her sneakers. Logan’s fingers clamped around her nipples and his mouth devoured the soft skin where her shoulder collided with her neck. She moaned loudly, thrashing beneath his rough touch.
“Try again, Veronica,” he breathed. “Why are you so fucking wet?”
“Fuck, Logan,” she grunted, body rattling against the cage.
“Why are you so wet, Veronica? Why is your cunt so ready for me?” Logan’s mouth replaced his hands in caressing her breasts, and his right hand trailed down her stomach. He slipped his hand beneath the cotton of her panties and shoved his middle finger deep inside her. She bucked against him, a series of formless sounds tearing up from her diaphragm into the air.
And then his voice was in her ear, his grunts matching each thrust of his hand. “Tell me,” he demanded.
“You!” she cried out, finally finding ability to form words. “I’m.” Thrust. “Wet.” Slam. “For you.”
“That’s right, baby” he whispered, voice smooth as silk. “You’re mine.”
“Yes,” she moaned.
“Yes, what?” he prodded.
“Yes, Logan. I’m - oh god!” Logan’s thumb began circling her clit, and Veronica thought she was going to die.
“You’re what?” His hand stilled.
Veronica almost cried with frustration. “Logan,” she wailed.
“You’re what? What are you, Veronica?”
“Yours,” she gasped.
“Good girl,” he said. But he still didn’t resume his caress of her pussy.
“Please, Logan,” she begged.
He ignored her plea, and stepped back to look at her. She looked like a goddess. Even chained, she radiated power. Logan smiled. A plan was forming in his head. “You’ll come when I want you to come,” he said. He dropped to his knees and leaned forward to press his lips against the soaking wet material of her panties. “I think you’re a bit overdressed for the occasion,” he said, and his voice vibrated against her overly-sensitized clit. She pressed down against him, but he moved away. “Not yet.”
He unlaced her sneakers and tossed them away, followed by her socks. “One to go,” he said, and gripped the waistband of her underwear with his teeth. He pulled them down her legs and then let go. She stepped out of her panties and kicked them across the floor.
“Much better,” he said.
“Your turn,” she said. Logan smiled.
“What’s the magic word?” he said.
“Don’t you mean the safe word?” she mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Um, please?” she said, louder.
“That’s better.” He slid his t-shirt up and over his shoulders. He kicked off his shoes, unbuckled his belt, and then stepped closer to her.
“My belt,” he said.
“I don’t have any hands,” she responded.
“You’re creative.” He stared at her expectantly, and she slowly lowered herself to a kneeling position. The handcuffs caught on a crossbar, and her arms stretched up painfully behind her. She winced, but took his belt in her teeth and pulled. Slowly but steadily, the belt snaked its way through the loops as she paused several times to readjust. Finally, it was through, and she let it drop to the floor. She began to stand, but Logan placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Not yet.” He unzipped his pants, and pulled off his boxers and his jeans with one motion. Now as naked as she was, he wrapped his right hand around his cock and slowly moved it back and forth.
Veronica knew what he wanted her to do, and dread filled her. She hadn’t ever, not over the summer with Logan, and certainly not during those few unfortunate months with Duncan. She had no idea where to begin, and she suddenly felt like she was going to throw up. This isn’t fun anymore.
“Um,” she began, voice infused with panic. “I don’t...”
And suddenly Logan was pulling her up, arms wrapped around her, all traces of their game gone. “Hey,” he said, voice soft. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, Veronica, I shouldn’t have -”
“No, it’s my fault,” she said, cutting him off. “It’s stupid. I can -”
“Shhh,” he soothed her. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”
His lips were on hers again, sweeter now, and she opened her mouth to him. Her panic subsided, and was replaced by a growing feeling of need. She wanted him. Badly.
She used the bars to leverage herself upward, pussy positioned over him, and began to slid down. He grabbed her hips, stopping her descent.
“Are you still taking the pill?” he asked.
She nodded. He released her, and she slid down over him. This was what she had missed when she was with Duncan - the feeling of Logan filling her completely, leaving no room for thoughts of kerosene and ashtrays. He began to move inside of her, reacquainting himself with the geography of her body. She gasped as he found her G-spot and began to slowly stroke himself back and forth over it.
“Logan. Fuck. Logan. Fuck!” she chanted, and his rhythm quickened.
His voice joined hers. “Oh god. Ver - oni - Oh. Fuck!”
Neither of them heard the hallway door swing open. Lamb stood staring at them in shock. He had expected a confrontation between them, but this hadn’t been what he had in mind. He had imagined Logan growing furious at the sight of Veronica clearly ravaged by another man, followed by a flurry of accusations, denunciations and dramatic exits.
Which is precisely where he would come in. Literally.
No, this was not at all what he’d had in mind.
Lamb felt his pants tighten uncomfortably at the sight of Veronica’s ass sliding up and down the metal bars. She was clearly grinding herself back against them, seeking out pressure in front and behind.
When in Rome, Lamb thought, making a decision. He locked the door behind him, glad that he’d long ago had the foresight to change the lock and keep the only copy of the key on him at all times. You never knew when you were going to want to use some unconventional interrogation techniques with a prisoner, and Lamb certainly didn’t want to be caught with his pants down. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
Veronica’s back was to him and Logan’s eyes were squeezed shut; neither noticed Lamb as he positioned himself behind Veronica. Neither noticed as he slid his pants and boxers down to the floor. Neither noticed as he pulled a condom out of his front shirt pocket and rolled it down his incredibly hard cock.
But when he slammed into Veronica from behind... she noticed.
“Fuck!” she screamed, vision going black.
Logan’s eyes flew open, and he froze. “What the fuck?”
Lamb moved inside of her, thrusting deeply. Logan pulled out, face contorted with anger, but before he could leave the cell, Lamb reached over and slammed the door shut. Still thrusting into Veronica, Lamb held up the keys and jangled them in the air. Logan’s hand shot through the bars, but Lamb tossed the keys over his shoulders before Logan could grab them. Instead, Logan’s hand clamped around Lamb’s throat, but Lamb just smiled.
“That actually,” he grunted. “Feels kind of - good.” He reached through the bars and tilted Veronica’s head back, thumb pressing lightly into her carotid artery. “Doesn’t it, Veronica?”
She moaned softly, sensations pile-driving through her body as Lamb rocked against her. Logan ripped Lamb’s hand away from Veronica’s throat, and Lamb moved to caress Veronica’s nipples instead. “You have two options right now, kid. You can watch...” With this he slid his hand down to fingerfuck Veronica. She pressed against him, melting into the barrage from both sides. “Or you can jump in.”
Logan pulled Lamb’s hand out of Veronica’s pussy and entered her again. His eyes met Lamb’s, a challenge clearly issued. Lamb didn’t look away, but brought his hand to his mouth and sucked the juices off. “I was hoping that would be your answer.”
And then both men were thrusting into her, alternating in their entries. Logan’s eyes drifted shut again as he concentrated on the feel of Veronica’s pussy surrounding him, as well as the feel of Lamb ghosting through Veronica’s inner flesh.
For several minutes, the only audible sound was that of skin slamming into metal, and skin slamming into skin.
Veronica’s head lolled back, and Logan heard Lamb’s voice seeping through the bars. He opened his eyes to see the other man’s lips brushing over Veronica’s ear. “That’s right, baby,” Lamb crooned. “Come for me. Come on, baby. I want to see you come.”
Logan’s tempo increased as rage filled him. He reached up and jerked Veronica’s face towards him. “Look at me,” he ground out. “Look at me, Veronica.” Her eyes drifted open, unfocused. He reached between her legs and pinched her clit; she gasped, and her vision sharpened.
“I want you to look at me,” he said.
Lamb moved his hands to cover her breasts and began to tease her nipples. Veronica arched away from the bars and into his hands, eyes squeezing shut again as she writhed against his fingers. “You like that, baby”? Lamb asked.
“God, yes!” she cried.
“Tell me how much,” he prompted, fingers pinching harder.
“Oh, fuck! Lamb!” she shouted.
Logan’s face darkened, and he stilled. His fingers ceased massaging her clit, and his thrusts stopped. Veronica whimpered, and she jerked against him.
“Me, Veronica,” Logan commanded. “I want you to come for me.” Veronica thrust her hips forward, seeking out his fingers. Lamb snaked his hand around her, happy to comply, but Logan grabbed the other man’s wrist and twisted it painfully away. “Veronica,” he breathed.
“Please, Logan,” she whimpered.
“Please what?”
“Please let me come,” she whispered.
He began to thrust into her again, but still refused to touch her clit.
“I want your eyes open the whole time,” he said. “As soon as your eyes close, my hand stops.”
She opened her eyes, and his index finger began to encircle her clit again.
“Yes yes yes yes yes yes,” she chanted softly. Logan thrust into her faster, fingers moving more rapidly. Her eyes drifted shut, and he froze.
She cried out in frustration, eyes jerking to gaze at him in agony. His fingers began to move again, and she once again relaxed into his rhythm.
Lamb’s attention to her nipples resumed, and her head thrashed back and forth. Logan’s fingers stopped again.
“They’re open!” she protested.
“Look. At. Me.”
Tears of frustration poured down her face, but Logan remained indifferent. She trained her gaze on him, and he pinched her clit. Hard. Her head slammed back and away from him, again clanging against the metal. His hand pulled back, and her eyes returned to his. He pinched again, and this time, she was able to keep from moving. Both men pounded into her, and she kept her eyes wide open as Logan’s fingers twisted gently between her legs.
“Logan.” The word catapulted out of her like a bullet. “I want to come.”
“I don’t take orders.” Their eyes locked. Lamb bit into her shoulder through the bars, and Veronica felt herself teetering on the edge of a very tall cliff.
Her eyes attempted to communicate what her mouth wouldn’t, but Logan simply stared back at her, dark brown eyes a swirling pool of passion and power.
“You’re going to have to ask nicely.”
Veronica leaned forward, ass thrusting back against Lamb, nipples pulling away from his hands to brush against Logan’s chest. Lamb grabbed her hips and tilted her forward, slamming into her even faster.
Veronica’s lips brushed against Logan’s ears, and her words tumbled out jerkily between Lamb’s thrusts.
“Logan, please - will you - let me - oh fuck -” Lamb hit that spot and she lost the ability to speak.
“Keep going,” Logan coaxed her.
“Please - let me - fucking - come!”
Logan slammed her back against the bars, cock pounding into her, fingers thrumming into her with conscientious precision.
“Okay, baby. Come for me, Veronica.”
“LOGAN!” Her voice filled the cavernous room as she came apart in his hand. She convulsed around them rapidly, driving both men to follow her as she came.
Lamb pulled out of her first, pulling off the condom and tying it closed. He pulled up his pants and retrieved the keys from the floor. Logan slowly slid out of Veronica and held her up as she shuddered downwards. His lips were buried in her hair, gushing out words of love and devotion. Lamb snorted, reached forward, and unbound her hands. She stumbled forward into Logan, and he held up her full weight.
Rolling his eyes, Lamb unlocked the cell. “Get out,” he said. Logan glanced at him over Veronica’s shoulder, face dark.
“Fuck you, Donny,” he spat.
“Fine. You want to stay here all night? Works for me!” Lamb moved to shut the door, but Logan’s voice stopped him.
“We’ll be out in 15 minutes.”
Their eyes locked again, each remembering the feel of the other inside the diminutive blonde girl separating them. Lamb looked away first.
“15 minutes.”
And then he unlocked the hallway door and was gone.
Logan sank down the floor, lowering Veronica down on top of him. “We have to get dressed,” he whispered.
“I don’t have a shirt.” Her voice was raw from too much screaming, and it sounded foreign, event to her.
“You can wear mine,” he said.
“Okay.”
“Veronica?”
“Yeah?
“I - ” But the words wouldn’t come, and he fell silent.
“I know,” she said.
She pressed her lips against his neck, and then pulled back, glancing around the cell to locate her misplaced clothing. She located her bra and made a display of concentrating very hard on fastening it.
“So that was...” she trailed off.
“Yeah.” Logan swallowed. He looked up at Veronica. Her back was to him now as she shimmied her skirt up her hips. The image of Lamb’s fingers clamping around her nipples, her face rippling in pleasure at the contact, flashed through his mind.
Fuck this.
“So one of these days, we should try the whole dinner-and-a-movie thing,” he said. His tone was light, but his eyes were serious.
She was silent for a moment, and his heart stuttered. But when she met his gaze, her eyes were bright. “I think I’d like that,” she said.
“So it’s a date?”
“Yeah,” she answered. A look of understanding passed between them, and Logan felt the pressure in his chest begin to relax. “It’s a date.”
fin
AUTHOR'S NOTE: IN CASE YOU MISSED THIS AT THE TOP, PLEASE DO NOT MENTION OR REC THIS FIC ELSEWHERE, PARTICULARY AT rack_of_lamb. MICHAEL MUHNEY READS LJ, AND I WOULD RATHER HE NOT READ THIS.
Sorry for the all caps, and thanks for respecting my request. - musey
Author: mutinousmuse
Pairing/Character: V/L, V/L(amb)
Word Count: 4, 105
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Veronica gets hauled in. Smuttiness ensues.
Spoilers: Through 2x03
Author’s Notes: Inspired by the fabulous Lamb fans over at rack_of_lamb and written for the loveathons bondage challenge. Whatever you do, please do not link to this at rack_of_lamb, as Michael Muhney actually reads it. And as always, thanks immensely to queen_haq for the beta job. You are my hero. BTW, this fic intensely deserves its rating. By clicking the link below, you are verifying that you are 18 years old, and thus cannot sue me. Nor can your relatives.
Disclaimer: This show, like most things in the world, does not belong to me.
A/N: DID I MENTION I DON'T WANT THIS RECC'D OR LINKED ELSEWHERE? I DON'T. Okay, here's the fic..
Can and Will Be Used Against You
“My Dad is going to destroy you for this,” Veronica spat.
Don Lamb just grinned, left hand planted firmly on Veronica Mars’ back as he guided her into the cell. “I’d say the jury’s still out on that one,” he replied. “Isn’t your Dad out of town? And with no more obedient little boyfriend at your beck and call, I’d say it will be quite a while before anyone notices you’re missing.”
“How do you know I broke up with Duncan?” she asked, surprised.
“I don’t miss much.”
If this troubled her, she didn’t show it. She glanced around to the other cells and noticed that they were all empty, save her own.
“Slow day?” she asked.
Lamb just shrugged. “You could say that.” And then he was shoving her against the bars, slipping the handcuffs behind her, and shackling her wrists. She jerked sideways, but found that she was now attached to the bars of the cell. Her wrists were trapped behind her, and the handcuffs were wrapped around one of the bars.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she shouted.
“You’re not leaving until I get what I need out of you,” he said.
“This is completely illegal,” she hissed.
Lamb glanced down at his badge, and then back up at Veronica. “You don’t say?” She seethed. “Well you’d better make sure to file a report with the sheriff on your way out. I hear he’s quite ... competent.”
“I’ve told you everything I know.” Veronica’s voice had gone steely and cold. “That man worked with Aaron Echolls. He was a stunt coordinator. He rigged a crash just like the one with the school bus in one of Aaron’s films. Look it up for yourself. My theory is that Aaron wants me dead so I can’t testify in the trial. I don’t know how Moran ended up dead, I don’t know why he was stupid enough to sharpie my name on his hand, and I have no fucking clue why you think it has anything to do with me! Now will you kindly release me ... Sheriff?”
“Fine.” Lamb leaned over her and wrapped his arms around her torso and through the bars. Veronica breathed a sigh of relief as he reached around behind her, chest pressing into hers as he fumbled with the keys behind her back. The sigh turned into a gasp of shock as he tossed the keys outside of the cell and pulled back, smirking. “Oops.”
“Never mind my Dad,” she said. “I am going to destroy you.”
Lamb took in the flush of anger on Veronica’s face, noticing the way it crept beneath the collar of her shirt and traced its way down her chest. His eyes trailed down lower, hovering over the way her breasts were thrust forward as a result of her awkwardly bound position. Lower still, his eyes took in her short skirt and toned legs that tapered down into a sensible pair of sneakers.
Veronica shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “What’s the matter, Lamb? The missus not doing it for you any more? Oh, wait. There isn’t a Mrs. Lamb. I can’t imagine why.”
“I don’t know, Veronica.” Lamb leaned over her, breath heating her cheek. “You’ve always struck me as a rather imaginative girl.” He laughed, and she shivered.
“Get away from me,” she said, tamping down the shaking in her voice. She jerked forward in an attempt to shove him back, unintentionally slamming her hips into his. She gasped in shock as she realized how turned on he was; her shock deepened as a warm feeling spread throughout her belly in response. She felt herself moisten, and she flushed again - part disgust, part desire. She realized that her body was still pressed firmly against his, and she drew back as though burned. Her back pressed into the bars, and Lamb reached out and grabbed her chin. He forced her to meet his eyes, and she realized that when he’d said she wasn’t leaving until he got what he needed, he hadn’t been talking about information.
Fuck.
Lamb’s eyes turned a darker shade of blue, and suddenly his mouth was crushed against hers, hard body pressing hers more firmly into the bars behind her. The coolness of the metal contrasted with the fiery heat of his mouth, and goose bumps exploded across her flesh. He pulled back, eyes filled with conflicting emotions. He breathed her name, and his right hand lifted to trail the line of her bones beneath her face.
“What do you want from me?” Veronica’s voice shook.
Lamb let his hand drop from her face to her collarbone, trailing downwards towards the collar of her shirt. He tentatively unbuttoned the first button, fingers dipping beneath to trace the straps of her bra. The next button followed, and Veronica remained frozen. Soon her shirt was completely undone, and he shoved it down her arms. It hovered over her handcuffed wrists, spread over the bars beneath her back. His fingers stretched over the thin material of her white cotton bra, and he circled her nipples with his thumbs. They tightened instantly, and she threw her head back, inadvertently slamming into the bars behind her. The pain served only to intensify the feelings radiating out from her nipples, and she ground her hips forward into his.
“Fuck,” she hissed.
“Not yet,” he replied, tweaking her nipples harder.
She grunted, wrapping a leg around him and grinding his cock into her wet panties. She rotated against him in an attempt to release the pressure steadily building between her legs.
He stepped back and smirked. “Not until I say so,” he said. Veronica glared at him.
“I am going to hurt you,” she said.
“I’m counting on it.” His pocket suddenly exploded with sound, and he pulled out a pager. “Looks like I’ve got a visitor,” he said. He strode out of the cell, picked up the keys from the ground where he had tossed them, and pushed the door shut. It didn’t quite latch, but given her handcuffed state, he wasn’t overly concerned.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
”Duty calls.” He smirked, all too aware of the ache he had left thrumming between her legs.
“Um, my shirt?” she asked.
“Oh, right.” He grabbed the collar of the shirt and ripped it through the bars, seams splitting, material shredding. “How thoughtless of me.”
“What the fuck!” she shouted. He simply walked away, the remains of her shirt balled in his fist. As the door closed, she let out an enraged yell that reverberated off of the empty concrete walls and faded into oblivion.
The door swung open, and footsteps echoed down the hallway. “I hope you’re actually going to be reasonable this time,” she said.
“Veronica?” Logan’s voice was panicked. “What the fuck happened to you? What are you doing here? And where’s your shirt?”
“Logan?” Veronica attempted to look at him over her shoulder, but couldn’t crane her neck far enough around to see him. “How did you know I was here?”
“I saw you get into a cruiser at school, and when you didn’t come back for journalism, I...” Logan’s voice thickened and trailed off. “I was worried about you.”
Veronica was silent. She could hear Logan fidgeting behind her, the rapid dancing of his hands almost audible.
“Can you get me out of here?” she asked, voice subdued. “I don’t think he closed the door all the way. If you can get in here, I think I can talk you through picking the lock on these cuffs.”
Logan tried the door and it swung open easily. He stepped into the cell and moved to stand in front of her. She met his eyes, and then looked away. He took in her disheveled state and a dawning sense of horror crept over him. Her hair was askew, her lipstick was smeared messily across her mouth, her nipples were hard as rocks, the front of her skirt was shoved up around her hips, and the scent of her arousal assaulted him.
“Veronica,” he began. “What. Happened. To. Your. Shirt.”
“Lamb...” she began, but the words dried up.
Logan was having a hard time breathing. Between the musky scent of her pussy filling his lungs and the images of the fucking Sheriff touching what was by all rights his, he felt like he was going to pass out.
“Veronica,” he gasped out, voice cracking. “What the fuck?” He steadied himself against the bars, leaning over her in an attempt to remain upright.
“Logan, please,” she said. “Just get me the fuck out of here and I can explain.”
“I think -” he said, forcing the words out. “I think that you are going to explain this to me now.”
“This isn’t my fault, Logan,” she said. “He brought me back here, handcuffed me to the bars, and ripped off my shirt. This wasn’t my fucking idea!”
“Then why are you so wet I can smell you from five feet away?” he asked, voice dangerously low.
‘I don’t know,” she whispered.
A bitter laugh escaped him. “You don’t know,” he repeated, voice harsh. “You don’t fucking know.”
“Logan, please,” she whispered.
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe the great Veronica Mars just really likes being tied up.” And then his mouth was on hers, the words pouring soundlessly down her throat. You are mine. You are not Duncan’s. You are not Lamb’s. You belong to me. And I am going to show you that now.
For the second time in as many minutes, Veronica found herself being shoved back against the cool metal of the cell, but this time there was no layer of protective cloth between the bars and the skin of her back. She felt the metal grind bruisingly into her spine as Logan pressed against her. For the second time in as many minutes, Veronica felt herself soaking through her panties as her body disobeyed her commands and responded greedily to the hard male body slamming her against the cell.
Unlike Lamb, Logan’s hands didn’t hesitate. They had been here before. Her bra was torn away and tossed carelessly to the floor. Her skirt was shoved down her hips, and Veronica was completely naked save for her panties and her sneakers. Logan’s fingers clamped around her nipples and his mouth devoured the soft skin where her shoulder collided with her neck. She moaned loudly, thrashing beneath his rough touch.
“Try again, Veronica,” he breathed. “Why are you so fucking wet?”
“Fuck, Logan,” she grunted, body rattling against the cage.
“Why are you so wet, Veronica? Why is your cunt so ready for me?” Logan’s mouth replaced his hands in caressing her breasts, and his right hand trailed down her stomach. He slipped his hand beneath the cotton of her panties and shoved his middle finger deep inside her. She bucked against him, a series of formless sounds tearing up from her diaphragm into the air.
And then his voice was in her ear, his grunts matching each thrust of his hand. “Tell me,” he demanded.
“You!” she cried out, finally finding ability to form words. “I’m.” Thrust. “Wet.” Slam. “For you.”
“That’s right, baby” he whispered, voice smooth as silk. “You’re mine.”
“Yes,” she moaned.
“Yes, what?” he prodded.
“Yes, Logan. I’m - oh god!” Logan’s thumb began circling her clit, and Veronica thought she was going to die.
“You’re what?” His hand stilled.
Veronica almost cried with frustration. “Logan,” she wailed.
“You’re what? What are you, Veronica?”
“Yours,” she gasped.
“Good girl,” he said. But he still didn’t resume his caress of her pussy.
“Please, Logan,” she begged.
He ignored her plea, and stepped back to look at her. She looked like a goddess. Even chained, she radiated power. Logan smiled. A plan was forming in his head. “You’ll come when I want you to come,” he said. He dropped to his knees and leaned forward to press his lips against the soaking wet material of her panties. “I think you’re a bit overdressed for the occasion,” he said, and his voice vibrated against her overly-sensitized clit. She pressed down against him, but he moved away. “Not yet.”
He unlaced her sneakers and tossed them away, followed by her socks. “One to go,” he said, and gripped the waistband of her underwear with his teeth. He pulled them down her legs and then let go. She stepped out of her panties and kicked them across the floor.
“Much better,” he said.
“Your turn,” she said. Logan smiled.
“What’s the magic word?” he said.
“Don’t you mean the safe word?” she mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Um, please?” she said, louder.
“That’s better.” He slid his t-shirt up and over his shoulders. He kicked off his shoes, unbuckled his belt, and then stepped closer to her.
“My belt,” he said.
“I don’t have any hands,” she responded.
“You’re creative.” He stared at her expectantly, and she slowly lowered herself to a kneeling position. The handcuffs caught on a crossbar, and her arms stretched up painfully behind her. She winced, but took his belt in her teeth and pulled. Slowly but steadily, the belt snaked its way through the loops as she paused several times to readjust. Finally, it was through, and she let it drop to the floor. She began to stand, but Logan placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Not yet.” He unzipped his pants, and pulled off his boxers and his jeans with one motion. Now as naked as she was, he wrapped his right hand around his cock and slowly moved it back and forth.
Veronica knew what he wanted her to do, and dread filled her. She hadn’t ever, not over the summer with Logan, and certainly not during those few unfortunate months with Duncan. She had no idea where to begin, and she suddenly felt like she was going to throw up. This isn’t fun anymore.
“Um,” she began, voice infused with panic. “I don’t...”
And suddenly Logan was pulling her up, arms wrapped around her, all traces of their game gone. “Hey,” he said, voice soft. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, Veronica, I shouldn’t have -”
“No, it’s my fault,” she said, cutting him off. “It’s stupid. I can -”
“Shhh,” he soothed her. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”
His lips were on hers again, sweeter now, and she opened her mouth to him. Her panic subsided, and was replaced by a growing feeling of need. She wanted him. Badly.
She used the bars to leverage herself upward, pussy positioned over him, and began to slid down. He grabbed her hips, stopping her descent.
“Are you still taking the pill?” he asked.
She nodded. He released her, and she slid down over him. This was what she had missed when she was with Duncan - the feeling of Logan filling her completely, leaving no room for thoughts of kerosene and ashtrays. He began to move inside of her, reacquainting himself with the geography of her body. She gasped as he found her G-spot and began to slowly stroke himself back and forth over it.
“Logan. Fuck. Logan. Fuck!” she chanted, and his rhythm quickened.
His voice joined hers. “Oh god. Ver - oni - Oh. Fuck!”
Neither of them heard the hallway door swing open. Lamb stood staring at them in shock. He had expected a confrontation between them, but this hadn’t been what he had in mind. He had imagined Logan growing furious at the sight of Veronica clearly ravaged by another man, followed by a flurry of accusations, denunciations and dramatic exits.
Which is precisely where he would come in. Literally.
No, this was not at all what he’d had in mind.
Lamb felt his pants tighten uncomfortably at the sight of Veronica’s ass sliding up and down the metal bars. She was clearly grinding herself back against them, seeking out pressure in front and behind.
When in Rome, Lamb thought, making a decision. He locked the door behind him, glad that he’d long ago had the foresight to change the lock and keep the only copy of the key on him at all times. You never knew when you were going to want to use some unconventional interrogation techniques with a prisoner, and Lamb certainly didn’t want to be caught with his pants down. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
Veronica’s back was to him and Logan’s eyes were squeezed shut; neither noticed Lamb as he positioned himself behind Veronica. Neither noticed as he slid his pants and boxers down to the floor. Neither noticed as he pulled a condom out of his front shirt pocket and rolled it down his incredibly hard cock.
But when he slammed into Veronica from behind... she noticed.
“Fuck!” she screamed, vision going black.
Logan’s eyes flew open, and he froze. “What the fuck?”
Lamb moved inside of her, thrusting deeply. Logan pulled out, face contorted with anger, but before he could leave the cell, Lamb reached over and slammed the door shut. Still thrusting into Veronica, Lamb held up the keys and jangled them in the air. Logan’s hand shot through the bars, but Lamb tossed the keys over his shoulders before Logan could grab them. Instead, Logan’s hand clamped around Lamb’s throat, but Lamb just smiled.
“That actually,” he grunted. “Feels kind of - good.” He reached through the bars and tilted Veronica’s head back, thumb pressing lightly into her carotid artery. “Doesn’t it, Veronica?”
She moaned softly, sensations pile-driving through her body as Lamb rocked against her. Logan ripped Lamb’s hand away from Veronica’s throat, and Lamb moved to caress Veronica’s nipples instead. “You have two options right now, kid. You can watch...” With this he slid his hand down to fingerfuck Veronica. She pressed against him, melting into the barrage from both sides. “Or you can jump in.”
Logan pulled Lamb’s hand out of Veronica’s pussy and entered her again. His eyes met Lamb’s, a challenge clearly issued. Lamb didn’t look away, but brought his hand to his mouth and sucked the juices off. “I was hoping that would be your answer.”
And then both men were thrusting into her, alternating in their entries. Logan’s eyes drifted shut again as he concentrated on the feel of Veronica’s pussy surrounding him, as well as the feel of Lamb ghosting through Veronica’s inner flesh.
For several minutes, the only audible sound was that of skin slamming into metal, and skin slamming into skin.
Veronica’s head lolled back, and Logan heard Lamb’s voice seeping through the bars. He opened his eyes to see the other man’s lips brushing over Veronica’s ear. “That’s right, baby,” Lamb crooned. “Come for me. Come on, baby. I want to see you come.”
Logan’s tempo increased as rage filled him. He reached up and jerked Veronica’s face towards him. “Look at me,” he ground out. “Look at me, Veronica.” Her eyes drifted open, unfocused. He reached between her legs and pinched her clit; she gasped, and her vision sharpened.
“I want you to look at me,” he said.
Lamb moved his hands to cover her breasts and began to tease her nipples. Veronica arched away from the bars and into his hands, eyes squeezing shut again as she writhed against his fingers. “You like that, baby”? Lamb asked.
“God, yes!” she cried.
“Tell me how much,” he prompted, fingers pinching harder.
“Oh, fuck! Lamb!” she shouted.
Logan’s face darkened, and he stilled. His fingers ceased massaging her clit, and his thrusts stopped. Veronica whimpered, and she jerked against him.
“Me, Veronica,” Logan commanded. “I want you to come for me.” Veronica thrust her hips forward, seeking out his fingers. Lamb snaked his hand around her, happy to comply, but Logan grabbed the other man’s wrist and twisted it painfully away. “Veronica,” he breathed.
“Please, Logan,” she whimpered.
“Please what?”
“Please let me come,” she whispered.
He began to thrust into her again, but still refused to touch her clit.
“I want your eyes open the whole time,” he said. “As soon as your eyes close, my hand stops.”
She opened her eyes, and his index finger began to encircle her clit again.
“Yes yes yes yes yes yes,” she chanted softly. Logan thrust into her faster, fingers moving more rapidly. Her eyes drifted shut, and he froze.
She cried out in frustration, eyes jerking to gaze at him in agony. His fingers began to move again, and she once again relaxed into his rhythm.
Lamb’s attention to her nipples resumed, and her head thrashed back and forth. Logan’s fingers stopped again.
“They’re open!” she protested.
“Look. At. Me.”
Tears of frustration poured down her face, but Logan remained indifferent. She trained her gaze on him, and he pinched her clit. Hard. Her head slammed back and away from him, again clanging against the metal. His hand pulled back, and her eyes returned to his. He pinched again, and this time, she was able to keep from moving. Both men pounded into her, and she kept her eyes wide open as Logan’s fingers twisted gently between her legs.
“Logan.” The word catapulted out of her like a bullet. “I want to come.”
“I don’t take orders.” Their eyes locked. Lamb bit into her shoulder through the bars, and Veronica felt herself teetering on the edge of a very tall cliff.
Her eyes attempted to communicate what her mouth wouldn’t, but Logan simply stared back at her, dark brown eyes a swirling pool of passion and power.
“You’re going to have to ask nicely.”
Veronica leaned forward, ass thrusting back against Lamb, nipples pulling away from his hands to brush against Logan’s chest. Lamb grabbed her hips and tilted her forward, slamming into her even faster.
Veronica’s lips brushed against Logan’s ears, and her words tumbled out jerkily between Lamb’s thrusts.
“Logan, please - will you - let me - oh fuck -” Lamb hit that spot and she lost the ability to speak.
“Keep going,” Logan coaxed her.
“Please - let me - fucking - come!”
Logan slammed her back against the bars, cock pounding into her, fingers thrumming into her with conscientious precision.
“Okay, baby. Come for me, Veronica.”
“LOGAN!” Her voice filled the cavernous room as she came apart in his hand. She convulsed around them rapidly, driving both men to follow her as she came.
Lamb pulled out of her first, pulling off the condom and tying it closed. He pulled up his pants and retrieved the keys from the floor. Logan slowly slid out of Veronica and held her up as she shuddered downwards. His lips were buried in her hair, gushing out words of love and devotion. Lamb snorted, reached forward, and unbound her hands. She stumbled forward into Logan, and he held up her full weight.
Rolling his eyes, Lamb unlocked the cell. “Get out,” he said. Logan glanced at him over Veronica’s shoulder, face dark.
“Fuck you, Donny,” he spat.
“Fine. You want to stay here all night? Works for me!” Lamb moved to shut the door, but Logan’s voice stopped him.
“We’ll be out in 15 minutes.”
Their eyes locked again, each remembering the feel of the other inside the diminutive blonde girl separating them. Lamb looked away first.
“15 minutes.”
And then he unlocked the hallway door and was gone.
Logan sank down the floor, lowering Veronica down on top of him. “We have to get dressed,” he whispered.
“I don’t have a shirt.” Her voice was raw from too much screaming, and it sounded foreign, event to her.
“You can wear mine,” he said.
“Okay.”
“Veronica?”
“Yeah?
“I - ” But the words wouldn’t come, and he fell silent.
“I know,” she said.
She pressed her lips against his neck, and then pulled back, glancing around the cell to locate her misplaced clothing. She located her bra and made a display of concentrating very hard on fastening it.
“So that was...” she trailed off.
“Yeah.” Logan swallowed. He looked up at Veronica. Her back was to him now as she shimmied her skirt up her hips. The image of Lamb’s fingers clamping around her nipples, her face rippling in pleasure at the contact, flashed through his mind.
Fuck this.
“So one of these days, we should try the whole dinner-and-a-movie thing,” he said. His tone was light, but his eyes were serious.
She was silent for a moment, and his heart stuttered. But when she met his gaze, her eyes were bright. “I think I’d like that,” she said.
“So it’s a date?”
“Yeah,” she answered. A look of understanding passed between them, and Logan felt the pressure in his chest begin to relax. “It’s a date.”
fin
AUTHOR'S NOTE: IN CASE YOU MISSED THIS AT THE TOP, PLEASE DO NOT MENTION OR REC THIS FIC ELSEWHERE, PARTICULARY AT rack_of_lamb. MICHAEL MUHNEY READS LJ, AND I WOULD RATHER HE NOT READ THIS.
Sorry for the all caps, and thanks for respecting my request. - musey