Fic: Deception to Perfection
Title: Deception to Perfection
Author: TheDawn
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Hints of D/S
Word Count: ~9300
Disclaimer: Not mine, but they always have fun when they visit:) Title taken from Melissa Etheridge's “Secret Agent”, which I tend to think of as Kahlan's theme song for this story.
Summary: Modern AU. Kahlan is a prized member of an elite group of women known as Confessors. Her latest assignment is a little...tricky.
Author's Notes: This idea sort of evolved from a random train of thought I had while reading ivanolix 's LotS/Supernatural crossover, Do All the Nothing You Want. Basically the train of thought went like this: “Hngh. Kahlan is always so hot in these stories where she ~avails herself of the services of whores. But why can't Kahlan ever BE the whore?” (I think I've read one fic where she “was” a whore, but she was just playing the role for Cara). So then I started thinking about ways to go about doing that, and this idea was born...and subsequently went right off track, because she's not actually a whore in this fic either. So that's still somewhere off in the future of possible fic ideas, and we have this. I'm pretty happy with it though :D
Author's Notes 2: Thanks to synergyfox, who harassed me about this until it finally happened:P She also provided the visual inspiration for Zedd's attire: Shirt, shorts (only picture them a little longer, to spare us all too much pasty old man flesh:P), and of course, the sunglasses.
Kahlan has had difficult assignments before.
As a Confessor, one of Zedd Zorander's elite, she is accustomed to challenges. It's part of the job. But when Zedd tells her the name of her latest target, she can't help but laugh.
"A Mord-Sith?" Her arms cross over her chest as she stares at him in disbelief. "Zedd, don't you think that's a bit unrealistic?"
Asking the man to be realistic may be a bit much. A little over a year ago, Zedd had the office redecorated in preparation of his pending retirement. Half of the office is taken up by piles of sand - imported from the Caribbean, no less. Zedd himself is lounging in a beach chair next to an artificial palm tree, drinking something fruity and tropical out of an umbrella-topped glass. A high-powered lamp shines artificial sunlight down him, highlighting the white of his long hair, the garish neon colors of his Hawaiian print shirt and almost-matching pink-and-black striped board shorts. Kahlan has learned not to look directly at him.
The ridiculous environment does nothing to undermine his deadly serious expression as he peeks over the rim of his large aviator sunglasses. "Kahlan, I have the utmost faith in your skills."
Kahlan shakes her head, dark wavy hair falling over her simple white t-shirt. "A Mord-Sith. They're not exactly the submissive sort, Zedd."
He may be her boss, but Kahlan has earned the right to argue. More often than not, her fellow Confessors give in to the target's desires, either for their own enjoyment or because they can't get the information any other way. Of all of her sisters, Kahlan is the only one with a spotless track record. She always gets what she's after - and she's never had to take off a single piece of clothing to get it.
The Confessors are Zedd's brainchild. To the outside world, the man runs a successful Italian restaurant. A more select few know that Ambrosio's is a front for his more specialized services. But very few know of the Confessors.
Those that do know of them, know that the Confessors are especially skilled in the art of domination. They have a reputation for being able to get the truth out of any man - or woman - with the power of their touch alone. When he was younger, Zedd would recruit his girls himself. Now he claims to desire a gentler touch, and sends his grandson Richard to screen potential recruits for him. Richard has dubbed himself Zedd's "Seeker", but Kahlan has a hard time believing the man is capable of seeing what's in front of his face.
Kahlan herself was recruited by Richard, back when she was still in law school. Her mother had been a highly respected prosecutor before she passed away of cancer when Kahlan was in junior high. She grew up with her father, a criminal defense attorney, whose morals were quite a bit more lax than her mother's. She still shudders to think of the shady deals he struck, the bribes he took. When she graduated high school, Kahlan swore that she would follow in her mother's footsteps, do everything she could to put the filth of the world behind bars.
She'd started freelancing as a dominatrix on a whim. Her paralegal job had fallen through, and she'd been complaining about not being able to make rent. Her younger sister had brought up the idea as a joke. For being a bit on the conservative side, Dennee always did know about the most bizarre things.
“You're already good at ordering people around,” the blonde had teased. “Why not get paid for it?”
She'd been shocked when Kahlan took her up on the dare. At first Kahlan had just been curious, but she quickly discovered that she enjoyed the rush of power - and the money wasn't bad, either. It got harder to juggle schoolwork with her sessions with clients, and she'd been on the verge of having to choose between them when Richard had shown up.
When she'd finished with him, Richard had been so besotted that he almost forgot his reasons for making the appointment in the first place. Kahlan had almost been out the door when he'd called after her and told her about his grandfather's operation.
Zedd Zorander was no ordinary businessman, even in the context of his profession. While all of his girls performed admirably in the exchange of domination for money, his Confessors served a higher calling than pleasure. Those skilled enough to earn the title were assigned targets, usually criminals or people closely associated with them. The Confessor seduced the target and coerced them into spilling their secrets. The information gathered was passed on to Zedd's connections in law enforcement, and used to prosecute the guilty parties.
The opportunity to combine both of her passions had been too good to pass up, even if Kahlan does have to put up with Richard's lovesick advances on an almost daily basis. It's almost sad, really; he can be a really nice guy sometimes, when he's not mooning over her. But Kahlan just can't see herself being interested in anything but friendship, and Richard's “seeking” skills unfortunately don't apply to taking a hint.
It's a minor annoyance, given how much Kahlan enjoys her job. She takes pride in her skills, but she's not sure even she is good enough to successfully target a Mord-Sith.
The Mord-Sith are Darken Rahl's girls. While Zedd urges his employees to keep business and pleasure separate, Rahl is insistent that they are one and the same. His People's Palace is well known for its reputation of never turning away a paying customer, and never letting any client leave unsatisfied. Zedd is convinced that the man acquires his girls through less-than-legal channels, and has made it his mission to bring the man to justice.
But the Mord-Sith are trained to do exactly the same thing as the Confessors - albeit with more intimate methods. Kahlan can't imagine allowing herself to be dominated, so she can't see how she's supposed to convince a Mord-Sith to do just that.
Zedd sips at his drink, waggling his eyebrows at Kahlan. “Everyone enjoys a bit of role reversal now and then, child.”
Kahlan raises an eyebrow skeptically. “If you say so.”
Zedd reaches down to grab a slip of paper resting on the ground by his seat, waving it at Kahlan. “You'll meet her here, at the appointed time.”
Kahlan steps closer to take the paper, scanning it briefly before Richard bounds into the room.
“Kahlan!” Richard greets her with his usual boyish enthusiasm, and she has to fight not to roll her eyes.
Forcing a friendly smile onto her face, Kahlan turns to the doorway. “Hello, Richard.”
“Big assignment?” His smile is at once shy and overwhelming.
“Yep,” she replies briskly, tucking the paper into the back pocket of her jeans. “I'd better go get ready.”
With a last look at Zedd, Kahlan slips past Richard into the hall, careful not to let any part of her body touch him - he'd only take it as encouragement. She can feel his eyes follow her until she rounds the corner, but her mind is on more pressing matters.
How is she going to seduce a Mord-Sith?
*****
The Hotel Sebastian isn't in the best neighborhood, which isn't quite what you would expect from a five-star establishment. What it lacks in locale, however, it makes up for in amenities. It's got the usual in-room jacuzzi, lightning-fast wi-fi, twenty-four hour concierge and room service (just don't touch the mini-bar if you want to leave with your bank account intact). But what makes Hotel Sebastian special are the maps. If you know who and how to ask - and have enough cash - the proprietor can provide you with maps more detailed than any you've ever seen - maps that highlight locations and services you'd never find otherwise. The People's Palace is a popular destination among Sebastian's guests, but it's not the only one by far. Sebastian's maps can find you anything you could ask for - legal or not.
Naturally, offering this sort of service is a substantial risk. The other thing Hotel Sebastian is known for is its exceptional security. Guards, cameras, motion detectors - Sebastian spares no expense (and doesn't hesitate to charge a premium for it). Kahlan can guess why Cara Mason would choose to stay here. While Sebastian has an amicable working relationship with Darken Rahl, he knows how to protect his own interests. If Rahl tried anything here, he'd find himself thrown out on his ass in seconds.
As it happens, Cara Mason is not technically a Mord-Sith - not anymore. She recently quit, which is quite the accomplishment considering no one has ever left Darken Rahl's employ and lived to tell about it. It's never as obvious as murder, but over the years there have been enough “accidents” to raise suspicions. Kahlan imagines that the security of this hotel would appeal to someone in such a position.
Cara's new-found unemployment is the reason for Kahlan's assignment. This is an opportunity Zedd could only have dreamed of. Cara Mason was not just any Mord-Sith. She'd been Rahl's number one commodity until about a week ago, when she'd abruptly quit and promptly disappeared. Zedd's sources had tracked her here not even a full day ago, and he'd wasted no time in sending his best Confessor. The information that Cara has been privy to could break Zedd's case against Rahl wide open.
The only problem is, Kahlan has no idea how she's going to acquire this information. As Rahl's top Mord-Sith, Cara was known for being very good at what she did - and that did not include submitting. It's going to take all of Kahlan's considerable skill and finesse to successfully complete this assignment.
Fortunately, dressing the part wasn't nearly as difficult. Kahlan's signature white dress is legend among the Confessors. The formfitting silk comes to mid-thigh, showing off her long, well-toned legs. Spaghetti straps hold up a plunging neckline held together by lacing intentionally left loose, exposing a generous amount of cleavage. Thick dark hair spills over creamy shoulders spattered with freckles. The barest hint of makeup and strappy white stilettos - with matching white leather purse - complete the look. On anyone else, the dress would look like it belonged in a high-end lingerie store. On Kahlan, it manages to look almost regal.
Entering the bar, she spots her target right away. The blonde is seated at the bar, wearing close-fitting black slacks and a low-cut black tank top under a blood red leather blazer. Her feet, propped up on the rungs of the bar stool, are sheathed in sleek red leather boots.
Kahlan slides onto the stool next to her, laying her purse in front of her on the bar. She glances casually at the blonde before leaning over the bar, careful to tilt her body ever-so-slightly to allow Cara a fleeting view of her cleavage as she gets the bartender's attention.
“I'll have a Screaming Orgasm,” she says smoothly. The bartender's eyes predictably drop to her chest before he gives her a slow nod and starts to mix the drink. She can feel Cara's eyes burning into her as she settles back on her stool, carefully crossing her legs.
“I usually like to get to know a girl first,” Cara purrs, her mouth pulling up in a sultry smirk as she takes a sip of her own drink. Scotch on the rocks, Kahlan notes. Her target likes to get right to the point.
A small smile touches Kahlan's lips as she turns to meet Cara's gaze. The flush on her cheeks is an artful combination of deliberate effort and the thrill of anticipation. “It's a guilty pleasure of mine,” she admits softly, bringing her drink to her lips. Cara quirks an eyebrow, her green eyes smoldering. “The drink, I mean.”
“Of course,” Cara replies, her voice gently mocking.
Kahlan allows her smile to widen a bit as she sets her drink down, offering her hand to the blonde. “I'm Kahlan.”
Cara takes her hand, her fingertips gently stroking Kahlan's wrist before she releases her grip. “Pleasure to meet you, Kahlan.”
Kahlan's lips purse slightly in amusement. “Do you have a name?”
Cara eyes her thoughtfully as she takes another sip of her drink, rolling the liquid over her tongue before swallowing. When she sets it back down, she appears to have come to a decision.
“Cara.”
It's a minor victory, but Kahlan takes note of it nonetheless. “And what do you do, Cara?” she asks, keeping her voice light.
“I'm between jobs right now,” Cara replies, her expression betraying nothing.
Kahlan presses further. “Time for a change?”
Cara chuckles, but there's no mirth in it. “That and my boss was an asshole,” she says drily.
Kahlan nods her understanding. “I've been there. Couldn't keep his hands to himself?” She's treading a dangerous line, and she knows it.
“Something like that,” Cara says, and a hint of something dark flashes through her eyes. It's gone as soon as it appears, but Kahlan doesn't miss a thing. “What about you?”
Kahlan's prepared for the deflection, the lie springing automatically to her lips. “I'm in Human Resources.”
Cara's eyebrow quirks in interest, her eyes following the line of Kahlan's throat as the brunette sips her drink. “You must be good with people.”
“You could say that,” Kahlan smirks, setting the glass down on the bar. She drags a manicured fingernail around the rim, collecting droplets of liquid on the pad of her finger. She brings it to her lips, tongue flicking out to swipe over the digit. Cara's eyes are glued to her throughout the process. Marking another point for herself in her mental tally, Kahlan presses onward. “So what brings you to this fine establishment?”
Cara averts her eyes, taking a generous pull from her glass. “Nothing interesting.”
“You did say you like to get to know a girl first,” Kahlan points out. The implication is not lost on the blonde.
A smug grin spreads over Cara's full lips. “I did,” she purrs, leaning in slightly. “I never said anything about the girl getting to know me.”
It's a struggle for Kahlan not to roll her eyes. Well, she knew this was going to be difficult. She lets her hand drop to Cara's thigh, feeling the heat of the blonde's skin through her slacks. “So what else do you want to know?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow in challenge.
Cara rakes her eyes down Kahlan's body, settling on the hand on her thigh before she meets Kahlan's smoldering gaze. “I think I know all I need to,” she drawls, raising her drink to her lips to finish it off. Setting it back on the bar, she reaches into the inside of her blazer, pulling out a leather wallet. Blood red, of course. Kahlan's not surprised.
What Kahlan is is nervous. She had hoped to get a bit more alcohol into Cara before they went upstairs. She doesn't often get her targets drunk before working on them - it almost feels like cheating - but with Cara, she'll need all the help she can get.
Kahlan watches as Cara tosses some bills on the bar before returning the wallet to her jacket. Kahlan's hand drops from her thigh as Cara slides off of the stool.
Then suddenly Cara is behind her, fingers brushing lightly against her skin as they tuck dark hair behind Kahlan's ear. Cara's breath is hot in her ear. “You have a room?”
A shiver shoots down Kahlan's spine, and her mouth is suddenly very dry. She tells herself it's just nerves and nods. She reaches for her glass, tilting the last of the alcohol into her mouth.
Cara's eyes sear into her as she licks the lingering moisture from her lips. When she speaks, there's a hint of impatience in the blonde's tone. “Then what are we waiting for?”
*****
Kahlan is hardly surprised when Cara all but shoves her into the room, pressing her up against the door and moving in for a kiss. This is a woman who is accustomed to being in control.
Not tonight, Kahlan thinks with a smirk as she pushes against the blonde a split-second before their lips meet, quickly reversing their positions. “That's not how this is going to work,” she murmurs, her breath brushing over Cara's lips as she holds her firmly against the door.
“And how is it going to work?” Cara asks, a challenge in her voice as she struggles briefly against Kahlan's hold.
Kahlan smiles dangerously as her hands slip inside Cara's blazer. She slides the leather back over her shoulders, effectively pinning Cara's arms to her sides. “How do you think?”
Cara looks slightly unsure, as though she's contemplating whether she should allow this. Kahlan watches her carefully, working through alternate strategies in her mind. She has a feeling her usual contingency plans won't work with this woman. In the end, Cara shrugs the blazer off and leans back against the door, her eyes daring Kahlan to take control.
Kahlan grins with a flash of teeth, tugging on the bottom of Cara's shirt as she steps backward into the room. Cara follows with a hungry expression on her face, stopping when they are standing next to the bed. She dutifully stands still as Kahlan slips her hands under her tank top, fingernails dragging along the soft skin of Cara's abdomen as she slowly pushes the black cotton up.
After pulling the top over Cara's head, Kahlan moves behind the blonde, the stilettos giving her an added height advantage. Her hands reach around Cara's waist, tracing the edge of her slacks. When she feels Cara begin to tremble, Kahlan smiles. She may be able to pull this off after all. “You never did say what kind of work you did,” she murmurs into Cara's ear as her fingers start to work at her belt.
Cara's shoulders tense, and she is silent for a long moment. Kahlan stills her hands, waiting for Cara's answer. Her silk-covered breasts press deliberately into Cara's back, the bare skin of her arms hot against Cara's waist.
When it becomes clear that Kahlan is not going to continue unless she speaks, Cara clears her throat. “You could say I was a sort of specialized information analyst,” she says carefully, her breath ragged.
Kahlan is impressed. Technically speaking, Cara did not lie. She wonders what that means. Filing it away for later consideration, she returns to Cara's belt, slipping it free of the buckle. Her fingers move on to the button of Cara's slacks as she hums, lips barely a hairsbreadth away from her neck. “And when you're not analyzing information,” she continues, “what do you do for fun?”
Cara's breath hitches as Kahlan tugs the zipper of her slacks down, sliding the material over her hips. “I'm kind of a workaholic.”
“Mmm.” Kahlan's heard stories about Mistress Cara, mostly revolving around the woman's insatiable appetite on and off the clock. Workaholic, indeed. She takes a step back, staring briefly at the toned ass she's revealed. No underwear. Typical. Smirking, Kahlan moves around to Cara's front again. “Sit down.”
Cara's eyebrow shoots up at the brisk order, but Kahlan's gaze is firm, the corner of her lips curling up slightly as though daring Cara to refuse.
After a moment, Cara relents, sinking down onto the edge of the bed and leaning back on her hands. Kahlan kneels before her on the carpet, offering a tantalizing view of her breasts.
“You must be going crazy,” Kahlan speculates, tugging off one of Cara's boots. She can feel Cara's eyes caressing her skin. “Being unemployed,” she clarifies, pulling off the other boot.
Cara's arms are tense as she braces herself on the edge of the bed, her eyes hooded and dark. “Something's driving me crazy,” Cara replies roughly, raising an eyebrow. Kahlan smirks, her nails dragging down Cara's legs as she slides off the blonde's pants and socks.
Sitting back to admire her handiwork, Kahlan finds that she does not need to fake the appreciation in her eyes. Cara meets her gaze defiantly, half-lidded eyes dark with desire; her breath comes in heavy pants, and her breasts strain against the confines of her simple black bra. Cara's legs fall open, exposing her glistening sex, and the expression on her face suggests it may not have been an accident.
Kahlan notes the lack of hair, and wonders if it's a personal choice, or if the rumors are true that Rahl forces his Mord-Sith to wax, to better appeal to his particular clientele. She tries to ignore the way her breath catches at the scent of Cara's arousal. This is business.
Slowly, Kahlan slides her hands up the back of Cara's calves, keeping her eyes fixed on the other woman's. Rising back to her feet, she maintains the contact, fingertips dragging across Cara's thighs until she meets the edge of the bed. Bracing herself on either side of Cara's hips, she leans in, her lips brushing against Cara's ear.
“Are you complaining?” she asks, a hint of steel in her voice.
Cara swallows, golden hair fluttering as she shakes her head. Kahlan's lips curl up in a satisfied smile, and her hands slide up from the bed, gliding along the warm skin of Cara's back before they reach the back of her bra. Her fingers make short work of the clasp, the thin straps falling down Cara's tanned shoulders. Kahlan tugs at the garment, and Cara dutifully lifts her hands from the bed, allowing her to slide it off.
Her eyes don't move from Cara's as she tosses the bra aside. She slides her fingertips down over Cara's shoulders, tracing her collarbone before moving lower. Cara's nipples are hard under her fingers, but Kahlan resists the sudden urge to pinch and tug at them the way she's sure the blonde would appreciate. This is about teasing, not pleasure.
Cara groans softly, arching into the deliberately gentle touch. When Kahlan's fingernails scrape gently over the stiffened peaks, Cara's control slips. Her hands shoot out to grasp Kahlan's hips, and the response is instantaneous. Kahlan's hands abandon Cara's breasts, reaching down to grip the other woman's wrists.
“Did I say you could touch?” she asks, the sharp words undermined by the deep, husky tone of her voice. The solid feel of Cara's wrists enclosed in her tight grip sends a thrill shooting straight between her legs, and Kahlan draws a shaky breath. She's starting to have a hard time telling the difference between practiced deception and honest reaction.
The blonde lets out a little grunt of displeasure, but she relaxes her arms nonetheless. Kahlan releases her wrists before stepping back, pinning the woman with her gaze. “Lie back.”
Cara reluctantly obeys, scooting up to rest her head on one of the luxuriously fluffed pillows. One of her arms bends up behind her head, legs spread wide as she reclines on the bed. The other hand drifts to her own breast, giving the aching nipple the attention Kahlan had denied.
Kahlan's eyes darken - with arousal, disapproval, she can't tell anymore - but she doesn't protest. Instead, she rakes her eyes over the gloriously naked woman, drinking in every dip and curve of the smooth, tanned skin.
She's dangerously close to forgetting her purpose when her gaze lands on a jagged white line crossing Cara's left hip. She'd missed it before, nestled as it is in the crease of her thigh. It streaks up along her hipbone, ending just before it would wrap around to Cara's back. The sight is jarring enough to remind Kahlan of what's at stake.
Kneeling on the bottom edge of the bed, Kahlan crawls up between Cara's legs, her hand coming to rest next to Cara's waist. Her right hand slides over the blonde's abdomen, feeling the muscles clench under her fingertips before moving to lightly trace the scar. Cara trembles beneath her, and when Kahlan looks up, there's a hint of panic amidst the hunger in the woman's jade eyes. For an instant, Kahlan almost feels guilty for what she intends to do.
But Kahlan did not get where she is by being soft of heart. With the tips of her fingers whispering back and forth across Cara's skin, Kahlan forces herself to speak.
“What happened?” she asks casually. As if she doesn't know. Darken Rahl is not known for being gentle with his employees.
Cara's eyes cloud over, and her hand abandons her breast to clench in the comforter. “Workplace accident.” Her throat closes around the last word, and Kahlan doesn't even need her finely tuned skills to see that it's a lie - or at the very least, not quite the truth.
Kahlan's hand stops its movement, the heat of her fingertips burning into Cara's hip. “The asshole boss?” she guesses, watching Cara's face carefully. It's a gamble, pressing this close to the truth. If Cara starts to suspect...
But Cara just swallows and clenches her jaw. “I don't want to talk about it.”
Kahlan can feel victory slipping from her grasp. Cara's closing off, rebuilding the walls Kahlan has been carefully taking apart. Desperation tugs at her chest. Clinging to her resolve, Kahlan pushes it back down. Her expression betrays nothing as she moves up Cara's body, straddling a thigh as she leans over the woman.
“So defiant,” she remarks, her thigh just barely hovering over Cara's sex, close enough to feel the heat of it. “I thought you wanted this.”
Without warning, Cara meets the dare with a thrust of her hips, her hand shooting up to tangle itself in Kahlan's hair. Blue eyes go wide with shock as a flood of wetness coats Kahlan's thigh, searing into her skin.
Kahlan prides herself on her boundaries. Over the course of her career, the line has wavered, bent to suit a situation, but she's always kept herself firmly behind it. With one simple movement, Cara has surged across that line without a backward glance. The worst part is that Kahlan is finding it hard to remember why that's a bad thing.
Cara doesn't give her much chance to dwell on it. Her fingers tighten in Kahlan's hair, tugging until her mouth is even with Kahlan's ear.
“Oh, I want this,” Cara growls, nipping at Kahlan's soft earlobe. “Make no mistake about that. And I'll talk about the weather in D'Hara, if that's what gets you off.” Her voice hardens as she drops her head back onto the pillow. “But I won't talk about him.”
Kahlan reaches back to untangle Cara's hand, pushing it down onto the pillow beside the woman's head. Her features are calm, her ragged breathing the only indication that her composure has been shaken.
Instead of responding directly to Cara's words, Kahlan focuses on reclaiming her control. She leans back up onto her heels, her hand sliding down Cara's arm to trace teasing circles over full breasts.
“You don't seem like the type to follow someone else's lead,” Kahlan remarks. Her other hand comes up to join the first, fingernails dragging over Cara's ribs.
Cara relaxes a bit under her, no doubt relieved at the change in subject. Arching into Kahlan's touch, she lets out an appreciative moan. “It's not my usual style.”
“And what's your usual style?” The question pops out unbidden, and Kahlan tells herself that it's strategy, nothing more. Keep her talking. The nervous flip in her stomach isn't curiosity, it's the thrill of power, the adrenaline rush that comes with pulling off a difficult job. “What would you have done differently, if you were in control?”
“I'd have fucked you up against the door until you screamed my name.” Cara's voice is thick, dark with hunger. “Then I'd have thrown you on the bed and fucked you again, over and over until you begged me to stop.”
Kahlan's eyes slam shut against the flood of arousal that surges through her at Cara's words. “That - that's...different,” she fumbles. When she opens her eyes, Cara is smirking up at her.
“It usually gets the job done.”
Kahlan swallows in an attempt to moisten her mouth, which seems to have mysteriously gone dry. The air is cold against her thigh where Cara's arousal is drying, and she has to fight the urge to press forward again, to feel the molten heat against her skin once more.
Cara's smirk falters as Kahlan's hands drift lower, nails scraping over the woman's taut stomach. “I don't know,” Kahlan purrs, dipping a couple of fingers lower to brush over the skin leading to Cara's sex. She grins as the blonde draws a sharp breath. “There's something to be said for delayed gratification.”
Cara grunts in response, turning her hand to clutch at the pillow beside her head. Her eyes stay locked on Kahlan's. “As long as it's not delayed for too long,” she growls. There's a hint of need in her voice that Kahlan is sure she would never admit to.
Kahlan's gaze travels over the squirming woman beneath her as she contemplates her situation. Cara has a point, even if she doesn't quite realize that she made it. There's only so long Kahlan can continue to tease before the blonde gets fed up and either takes matters into her own hands or leaves, and she hasn't come close to getting the information she needs.
Maybe if she gets what she wants... The thought flickers through Kahlan's mind, and she's appalled to find herself even considering it. Cara's earlier breach of her boundaries had been a shock, and a first to be sure, but it hadn't been Kahlan that had crossed the line. Her record is still clean. If she does this now, it will be a violation of every ethical code Kahlan has created for herself.
It also might get her the information. Kahlan has learned intimately that people will say close to anything when their minds are clouded by desire, and that lesson has served her well. But she's also heard her sister Confessors speak in hushed tones of the pillow talk that can result when a target is allowed satisfaction. She's been curious, of course, but never before has she been tempted to find out for herself.
She's never had a target like Cara Mason, though. If she'd met the woman on a day off, Kahlan doesn't doubt that she would have ended up pressed against the door exactly as Cara intended. Oddly enough, she finds that she's not even bothered by the thought that she'd so willingly submit.
Her eyes drift back up Cara's body, lingering on dusky nipples, the flex of a bicep as Cara strains to stay still. Kahlan has had sex before, but she's always kept it separate from her work; power games are something she never would have thought to include in her private life, for many very good reasons. Seeing Cara lie so passively beneath her, when Kahlan is sure that every muscle in her body is screaming for her to take control, Kahlan can't remember what any of them were. She wonders if this is what it was like for her sisters, the first time any of them crossed this line.
In the end, it comes down to a choice: Kahlan can get up right now and walk out the door, and pray to the Creator that she never sees Cara Mason's face again, or she can give in to her burning desire to see the blonde writhe beneath her in ecstasy, boundaries and ethics and spotless records be damned. For the sake of completing her assignment, of course.
Kahlan cannot fathom the idea of leaving now, so the choice ends up being surprisingly easy to make. She slides her fingers lower, gliding along the edges of Cara's sex, and she has to stifle a moan at the slippery warmth. Cara doesn't even attempt to hold hers back, moaning appreciatively at the touch. Kahlan seeks out Cara's eyes again, and heat sparks in her stomach at the sight of the darkened green orbs gazing hungrily at her through half-closed eyelids.
A strangled whimper passes Cara's lips as Kahlan's fingers slip fleetingly over her clit. Her knuckles are white from gripping the pillow. Cara arches up into Kahlan's hand, impatient for more solid contact.
“You've probably never had to wait for this, have you?” Kahlan teases, a smug grin growing on her face as she explores slick folds with her fingertips.
“Not usually.” The words come out as a breathy groan, and a familiar rush of power thrills through Kahlan. She's used to having people at her mercy, but there's something about this woman that makes this feeling stronger than ever.
Kahlan dips down, tracing teasing circles around the entrance to Cara's sex, her smile widening impossibly as she coaxes another wanton sound from the woman's throat.
“Your patience is -” Kahlan cuts off abruptly, her eyes slamming shut as she slips a finger inside, wet heat clenching hungrily around the digit. When she opens them again, Cara's managed to raise an eyebrow, smirking at her loss of composure. Kahlan shakes her head, trying to remember what she was saying. “- admirable,” she finishes. Maybe talking isn't the best idea right now.
Cara thrusts her hips urgently against Kahlan's hand, and Kahlan adds another finger, sliding out then slowly back in. She's barely holding on to the remnants of her control, sitting back on her heels and watching her fingers disappear into the glistening warmth of Cara's sex. She's given up on trying to speak, and her tongue slides out to moisten her lips as she idly wonders what Cara would taste like.
Cara's thigh jerks up, sliding out from between her legs. It slams against Kahlan's center in the process, igniting an explosion of white hot pleasure that spreads throughout her body. Her fingers slam forward a little harder than she intended, eliciting a deep groan of appreciation from the blonde.
Kahlan's hand stills for a moment, buried deep inside Cara, as she regains her equilibrium. She's so distracted by the sudden jolt of sensation that she's caught off guard when Cara surges up, somehow managing to rise to a kneeling position without ever letting go of Kahlan's fingers.
Then Cara's hand is tangled in her hair, Cara's lips and teeth and tongue are claiming her mouth like they've always belonged to her. Kahlan moans, shocked into inaction at how suddenly the tables have turned.
Kahlan had been willing to bend her rules, but only as long as she could rationalize it as just going that little extra distance to get the job done. This wasn't part of the plan. Cara's tongue in her mouth, Cara's hand sliding up her thigh under the silk of her dress, Cara tugging on her hair just hard enough...Kahlan never agreed to these things, never planned for them. But now that they're happening, Kahlan is helpless to stop them.
So she does the only thing she can think of: she fights back. Her free hand comes up to clench in blonde hair, tugging almost painfully as she returns the kiss with a fervor sprung from a need to win. As Cara's fingertips slide up brush over the barely-there lace thong covering her sex, Kahlan moans and adds another finger, slamming up hard into the blonde.
Cara groans, jerking against Kahlan's hand, but she's not deterred from her task. In one smooth movement, she shoves aside the white lace to slide two fingers deep into Kahlan.
Then there is nothing but sharp, wet noises as they thrust against each other with increasing urgency, half-swallowed moans as their mouths battle for dominance.
Tightness builds low in Kahlan's stomach, and she increases her rhythm, determined to push Cara over the edge first. Cara responds in kind, catching on to Kahlan's game. It's one Cara knows well, and one she's not accustomed to losing.
Ultimately, though, Cara's predilection for near-instant gratification is her undoing. She comes with a violent shudder, her hand slipping from Kahlan's hair to clutch at a freckled shoulder. Cara's other hand continues pumping between Kahlan's legs, and she follows Cara over the edge with a licentious scream.
Cara grins into Kahlan's lips, slowly drawing her fingers out of Kahlan's pulsing heat. “My patience only goes so far,” she remarks, pulling away from Kahlan to bring her fingers to her lips. Her tongue flicks out to slide over her glistening fingers, and Kahlan almost whimpers at the jolt it sends to her already throbbing sex.
As the fog of orgasm slowly recedes from her mind, Kahlan remembers her purpose. Her hand slips out of Cara's hair, drifting to Cara's chest to push the woman firmly back down onto the bed. When Cara is once again gazing up at her, blonde hair spilling over the white pillowcase, Kahlan slowly pulls her fingers from the woman, drawing a deep, satisfied moan from Cara's throat.
“So we've learned that patience isn't one of your strong suits,” Kahlan comments, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She drags her wet fingers over the woman's skin, idly painting random designs into her chest that cool and tighten in the air-conditioned room. “What other mysteries lurk beneath this tough girl facade?”
Something flashes through Cara's eyes, but she covers it up with a smirk. “What makes you think it's a facade?”
Kahlan smiles, keeping her voice light. “Everyone has secrets, Cara.”
Cara stiffens. “What makes you think I'd tell you mine?”
“We've gotten quite close,” Kahlan says seductively, trailing her fingers down to Cara's hip. “We shared a good deal, just now. What's a few words?”
“It takes more than a simple fuck to make me spill my deep dark secrets, Kahlan,” Cara says through clenched teeth.
Kahlan's brow creases, and the hurt that flashes through her eyes is only partly by design. “I was only making conversation,” she says defensively. She traces her fingertips over the scar on Cara's hip. “He must have really been an exceptional asshole.”
Cara's hand shoots out to catch Kahlan's wrist, gripping it almost painfully as she locks eyes with the Confessor. “I told you,” she grinds out, and Kahlan rolls her eyes, cutting her off.
“You don't want to talk about him, I know,” she says exasperatedly, flopping down at Cara's side and pulling her wrist free. “What could he possibly have done that was so vile you won't even say it?”
“Why are you so interested?” Cara asks, suspicion flaring to life in her eyes.
Kahlan swallows nervously. “I told you, I'm just making conversation.”
Cara narrows her eyes, scrutinizing Kahlan carefully. “I don't think that's it,” she says slowly, understanding dawning in her eyes. “I don't think it was an accident, running into you downstairs in the bar.”
Kahlan averts her gaze, her heart racing. This is exactly what she was afraid of; you can't turn a Mord-Sith's own tricks against them, no matter how skilled you are. “That's ridiculous, what else would it have -”
Cara cuts her off with a cold glare, the delicious tension that had lingered in the air moments ago shifting into something far less comfortable. “You work for him.”
The venom in her voice startles Kahlan. She knows Rahl doesn't hold a high opinion of Zedd, but she didn't expect the amount of hatred Cara is displaying. She falters, searching for words, but Cara doesn't let her find them.
“The bastard sent you to make sure I wasn't going to tattle on him,” she spits disgustedly, scooting away from Kahlan.
It dawns on Kahlan then, and she rushes to correct her. “Cara, you've got it wrong,” she says, shifting to close the distance between them. Cara ignores her, shaking her head in disbelief.
“I can't believe I didn't see it sooner,” she mutters, pushing her hands into the mattress as she prepares to get up.
Kahlan moves quickly, straddling Cara's hips. Cara struggles, and Kahlan presses firmly at her shoulders to keep her down. “I don't work for Rahl.” Cara looks at her skeptically, testing her limbs in anticipation of fighting back. Kahlan rolls her eyes. “If I worked for him, why would I have bothered teasing you so much? If the rumors I hear are true, Mord-Sith have less subtle methods of persuasion.”
Hesitation creeps into Cara's eyes, and Kahlan's lips quirk triumphantly.
“I'm a Confessor.”
The response is instantaneous. Cara groans, her head falling back against the pillow. “I should have known.”
Pride swells in Kahlan's chest. She always did love getting recognition for her work. Her smile softens as she meets Cara's eyes. “I know that my methods were less than honest,” she admits. Cara huffs sarcastically, but Kahlan presses on, conviction growing in her voice. “But my intentions were pure. I'm sure you know better than most how dangerous Rahl is. I'm working to help Zedd bring him down, but we can't do that without certain information. Information that I suspect you have.” Her eyes probe into Cara's, trying to gauge the blonde's reaction. “You can trust me,” she adds quietly.
Cara scoffs, but at least she's not trying to escape anymore. "You've lied to me since the minute you sat down next to me in the bar. Why would I trust you?"
Kahlan looks down at Cara's naked form: the flushed skin, the full breasts heaving with the aftermath of orgasm, the place where their bodies meet under the white silk of her dress. Almost unconsciously, she grinds her hips down, gasping at the feel of Cara's sex burning into her own, separated by a meager scrap of lace.
"I've never done this before.” Kahlan blushes a little as she says it, a reaction borne of both guilty shame and shy embarrassment. At Cara's raised eyebrow, she elaborates. "This job has never been about sex for me. I pride myself on a spotless record of keeping business and pleasure distinctly separate." Her eyes burn into Cara's, a hint of vulnerability shining in them. "Until now."
It could be just another lie, another way to gain Cara's trust to get the information she's looking for, but for some reason, Cara seems to believe her. Grabbing hold of Kahlan's hips, she quickly flips them over so that she is resting between Kahlan's legs. Her hands slide down to drag Kahlan's dress up over her hips, setting Kahlan's heart racing all over again. She wants to protest; Cara caught her off-guard before, and a second round is not in her plans any more than the first one was. She wants to protest, but somehow she can't force her lips to form the words.
"And if I tell you what you want to know?" Cara asks, a challenge in her voice as she slides slowly down Kahlan's body. "What's in it for me?"
Cara's breasts brush against Kahlan's thighs as her head dips down level with the dampened white lace. Kahlan whimpers, her legs widening reflexively as she fumbles for words.
“You mean besides putting Rahl behind bars?”
Cara's tongue flicks out to glide over the soft fabric, eliciting a sharp gasp from the woman beneath her. Pulling away from the jerk of Kahlan's hips, Cara raises an eyebrow, a bitter smirk on her lips. "If I believed there was a cop in this town that would arrest that man, don't you think I would have gone to them already?"
The silk whispers over Kahlan's skin as Cara slides the dress higher. “If Zedd's right -” Kahlan gasps as Cara teases her abdomen with the barest hint of lips and tongue. “- about Rahl's business practices -” Cara's tongue dips into her navel before moving sideways to trace wet circles into her hip. “- this is a federal matter,” she manages to force out between moans. “Rahl's bribes and blackmail don't reach that far.”
Cara nips at Kahlan's hipbone before raising her eyes to Kahlan's once more. "Say that's true," Cara murmurs, sliding the dress up higher, teasing at the underside of Kahlan's breasts. Her fingers slide up a little farther, unfastening the front clasp of Kahlan's strapless bra. "Why would I need to go through you?" Warm hands close over pale breasts, gently kneading at the soft flesh. “I could go to the feds myself."
Kahlan whimpers again as Cara's mouth closes over a breast, bathing her hardened nipple in moist heat. She arches into the all-too-fleeting touch; Cara's lips release the nipple with a wet pop, her hand coming up to replace them as she slides higher up Kahlan's body.
Vaguely, Kahlan realizes Cara asked her a question."Zedd could -" Kahlan's breath catches in her throat as Cara sucks her way up her neck. "- protect you," she finishes.
Cara's mouth lingers over Kahlan's ear, nipping teasingly at the lobe. "You're not listening, Confessor," she murmurs in a husky voice, her breath hot in Kahlan's ear. "Maybe there's something I want more than Zedd's protection."
She lets her thigh fall lightly between Kahlan's legs, brushing over Kahlan's sex. Kahlan bites her lip as her hips arch into the contact. Her fingers are clenching the sheets fiercely, knuckles white with the struggle not to take control. She's in a precarious position; she's on the verge of getting the information she needs, but she has to let Cara lead now. It's foreign and Kahlan did not think she would like it, but Cara's teasing is doing things to her that she thought were impossible. She's almost ashamed that she's so quickly been reduced to such a mess. Usually it's her targets that are quivering with desire, willing to do anything just for release.
"Cara," she breathes out, her voice dripping with need. The blonde smirks down at her.
"Aren't you going to ask me what it is?" Her tongue traces the shell of Kahlan's ear, then her lips brush over Kahlan's cheek as she moves to cover Kahlan's mouth with her own, a hairsbreadth between them. Her warm breath bathes Kahlan's lips, and Kahlan can't stop herself from trying to close the distance. Cara pulls back.
"Uh-uh, you have to say it."
"What do you want, Cara?" Kahlan asks, struggling with the words. But of course she knows, can see it in the glint in those green eyes.
Cara's tongue slips out to trace Kahlan's upper lip, sending sparks shooting straight to her sex. Kahlan moans, trying to meet Cara's tongue with her own, but Cara pulls just out of reach.
"I want you," she pauses, adding emphasis to her next words, "to beg me to fuck you."
The hunger in Cara's expression suggests that this may not be the first time she's thought of having a Confessor at her mercy. The request should not affect Kahlan like this; she does not beg, she does not give up her power. But taking stock of her position, the throbbing need between her legs, she realizes she's already lost control. She's beyond pride.
"Please," she gasps, her eyes locking onto Cara's. Cara looks back at her expectantly, and she elaborates. "Please fuck me."
Cara grins as she closes the distance, kissing Kahlan fiercely as she tugs her to a sitting position. After slipping the dress up over Kahlan's head and tossing it carelessly aside, she lowers the woman back down onto the bed. She slides slowly down Kahlan's body, her hardened nipples brushing against slick skin.
Kneeling between Kahlan's legs, Cara hooks her fingers under the thin strings of the white thong, sliding the damp material down Kahlan's legs before swiftly returning to her place between them.
Cara groans softly in appreciation as her eyes rake over the Kahlan's flushed skin. She brushes her fingers over the tiny patch of dark hair between Kahlan's legs. "For someone who doesn't usually take her clothes off, you're awfully well maintained."
Kahlan can only moan unintelligibly in response, but Cara's quirked eyebrow says she understands. It's not about who's going to see it, it's the thrill of power that comes from feeling desirable. Confidence is a vital commodity in their line of work.
Cara dips her finger between slick folds, sliding through the generous moisture. She smirks. "What's the matter, Confessor? I thought you liked to talk?"
Kahlan's hands release the sheets, moving up to grip at the bottom of the headboard. She doesn't try to answer with words, simply arching her hips against Cara's hand, begging wordlessly for more contact.
Cara smirks victoriously, a second and third finger joining the first as she slides easily into Kahlan's sex. A guttural moan tears from Kahlan's throat as she thrusts down against Cara's fingers.
The blonde straddles Kahlan's thigh, painting it with her own arousal as she grinds against it. It is not enough to make her come, but it's enjoyable in its own right, and a pleasing addition to the hot clenching of Kahlan's sex around her hand.
Cara's rhythm increases steadily, meeting each jerk of Kahlan's hips. Cara watches Kahlan's breasts bounce lewdly with each sharp movement. Her eyes darken impossibly further as Kahlan's face twists with desperate need.
It doesn't take long for Kahlan to come again, arching up off of the bed and clutching at Cara's shoulders. Her nails rake across the skin, leaving angry red marks. Cara hisses appreciatively at the sharp, gratifying sting.
When Kahlan recovers from the initial waves of pleasure crashing over her, her right hand slides down her thigh, slipping deliberately over Cara's slippery sex. Cara grunts in surprise and pleasure as Kahlan works roughly with her fingertips, rubbing rapid circles into the woman's clit. Her hand digs into Kahlan's hip to steady herself as she arches into the touch. Before long, the blonde spasms against her, her thighs clamping around Kahlan's in a vise grip.
Sated again, Cara collapses on her back beside Kahlan, staring up at the ceiling. Kahlan props herself up on her side, resting her hand on Cara's ribs under her left breast, feeling the rapid beat of her pulse under her fingers.
"I believe we had a deal," she murmurs. Something almost like guilt flashes through her, and she beats it back. She's feeling things that she shouldn't, things that have distracted her from her assignment thus far; she needn't feel guilty for putting duty first now.
Cara turns to look at her, sees the apology in Kahlan's eyes. She considers for a moment, then turns back to look at the ceiling.
"What do you want to know?" She asks, resigned. She knows what honor is, unlike her former employer.
Kahlan swallows, collecting her thoughts. She's not used to conducting interviews so calmly and openly. "Why don't we start with why you left?"
Cara hesitates, forcing her voice into neutrality. "You've obviously heard the stories about the People's Palace. Rahl is well-known for never turning away a paying customer." Kahlan nods, gently urging her to continue. "One of my sisters, Dahlia...she was a favorite of one of Rahl's prized clients - Senator Rothenberg." Her jaw clenched as she ground out the name. Kahlan's eyes widened in recognition; the Senator was a powerful player in Aydindril politics. "He was often...careless with Dahlia. Rahl ignored the injuries. As long as he gets paid, he doesn't care what the clients do."
Kahlan assumed as much, but a lump rises in her throat to hear it confirmed. Her fingers idly caress the soft skin covering Cara's ribs, a reflexive act of comfort that shouldn't feel as right as it does.
Cara draws a trembling breath. "This time, Rothenberg went too far. He put Dahlia in a coma." Her voice is shaking with fury. "Rahl set it up to look like she was mugged on her way to the store."
"Is she alright?" Kahlan asks, automatically, and she finds that she's honestly invested in the answer.
"She hasn't woken up yet. But the doctors are optimistic." A tear escapes out of the corner of Cara's eye, and Kahlan reaches up to catch it with her thumb before it slides into blonde hair.
The ache in Kahlan's chest raises all sorts of warning flags in her head, but she forces herself to press on with her assignment. "Zedd suspects that Rahl is involved in child trafficking."
Cara laughs bitterly, her eyes haunted as she continues to stare blankly at the ceiling. "He does get us young."
It's the confirmation Kahlan needed, but it's not enough - she needs specifics; even better would be if she could get Cara herself to testify. While she's trying to find the words to ask, Cara surprises her by continuing to talk.
"He tells us he's making us strong.” Her jaw clenches along with her fists. “He thinks he's justified in doing what he does, because he makes us powerful. But it's a lie. He's the one with all the power," she spits in disgust.
Overcome by an unexpected tenderness, Kahlan reaches over to cup Cara's cheek, guiding their gazes together. "We're going to bring him down, Cara," she says fiercely.
Unshed tears glitter in Cara's eyes, and Kahlan leans in to kiss her, swept up in a desire that's dangerously more than sexual. Cara inhales sharply, hesitating before returning the kiss with equal fervor. Their mouths clash together ardently, but the kiss is free of the battle for dominance that has accompanied all of their interactions tonight.
When Kahlan pulls away, Cara studies the Confessor curiously. Her blue eyes are turned down as she breathes rapidly, trying to sort out the thoughts and emotions racing around her head. Cara is confused herself; she's had plenty of experience with sex and power games...but somehow this night has shifted drastically away from such things.
Cara swallows nervously, clears her throat. "I'll do whatever I can to help." Kahlan's eyes snap back up to Cara's in surprise. "I won't be satisfied until I see the bastard pay."
Kahlan smiles then, a soft, genuine smile, and something tightens in Cara's chest. She returns the smile hesitantly, her breath catching in her throat as Kahlan leans in to kiss her again.
Kahlan is only mildly surprised when the kiss quickly becomes heated, Cara's hand coming up to tug at her hip as the blonde props herself up to mirror Kahlan's position.
When she pulls away, Cara's expression is clear of any conflict - there's only one thing in those deep jade eyes.
"So," Cara says slowly, a wicked smile on her lips as she drags her fingertips over Kahlan's hip, "since you've already shot your perfect record to hell and back," Kahlan gasps as Cara's fingers drift over her sex, "you wanna go again?"
Kahlan has had difficult assignments before, but never before has she had one quite so rewarding.
End.
Author: TheDawn
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Hints of D/S
Word Count: ~9300
Disclaimer: Not mine, but they always have fun when they visit:) Title taken from Melissa Etheridge's “Secret Agent”, which I tend to think of as Kahlan's theme song for this story.
Summary: Modern AU. Kahlan is a prized member of an elite group of women known as Confessors. Her latest assignment is a little...tricky.
Author's Notes: This idea sort of evolved from a random train of thought I had while reading ivanolix 's LotS/Supernatural crossover, Do All the Nothing You Want. Basically the train of thought went like this: “Hngh. Kahlan is always so hot in these stories where she ~avails herself of the services of whores. But why can't Kahlan ever BE the whore?” (I think I've read one fic where she “was” a whore, but she was just playing the role for Cara). So then I started thinking about ways to go about doing that, and this idea was born...and subsequently went right off track, because she's not actually a whore in this fic either. So that's still somewhere off in the future of possible fic ideas, and we have this. I'm pretty happy with it though :D
Author's Notes 2: Thanks to synergyfox, who harassed me about this until it finally happened:P She also provided the visual inspiration for Zedd's attire: Shirt, shorts (only picture them a little longer, to spare us all too much pasty old man flesh:P), and of course, the sunglasses.
Kahlan has had difficult assignments before.
As a Confessor, one of Zedd Zorander's elite, she is accustomed to challenges. It's part of the job. But when Zedd tells her the name of her latest target, she can't help but laugh.
"A Mord-Sith?" Her arms cross over her chest as she stares at him in disbelief. "Zedd, don't you think that's a bit unrealistic?"
Asking the man to be realistic may be a bit much. A little over a year ago, Zedd had the office redecorated in preparation of his pending retirement. Half of the office is taken up by piles of sand - imported from the Caribbean, no less. Zedd himself is lounging in a beach chair next to an artificial palm tree, drinking something fruity and tropical out of an umbrella-topped glass. A high-powered lamp shines artificial sunlight down him, highlighting the white of his long hair, the garish neon colors of his Hawaiian print shirt and almost-matching pink-and-black striped board shorts. Kahlan has learned not to look directly at him.
The ridiculous environment does nothing to undermine his deadly serious expression as he peeks over the rim of his large aviator sunglasses. "Kahlan, I have the utmost faith in your skills."
Kahlan shakes her head, dark wavy hair falling over her simple white t-shirt. "A Mord-Sith. They're not exactly the submissive sort, Zedd."
He may be her boss, but Kahlan has earned the right to argue. More often than not, her fellow Confessors give in to the target's desires, either for their own enjoyment or because they can't get the information any other way. Of all of her sisters, Kahlan is the only one with a spotless track record. She always gets what she's after - and she's never had to take off a single piece of clothing to get it.
The Confessors are Zedd's brainchild. To the outside world, the man runs a successful Italian restaurant. A more select few know that Ambrosio's is a front for his more specialized services. But very few know of the Confessors.
Those that do know of them, know that the Confessors are especially skilled in the art of domination. They have a reputation for being able to get the truth out of any man - or woman - with the power of their touch alone. When he was younger, Zedd would recruit his girls himself. Now he claims to desire a gentler touch, and sends his grandson Richard to screen potential recruits for him. Richard has dubbed himself Zedd's "Seeker", but Kahlan has a hard time believing the man is capable of seeing what's in front of his face.
Kahlan herself was recruited by Richard, back when she was still in law school. Her mother had been a highly respected prosecutor before she passed away of cancer when Kahlan was in junior high. She grew up with her father, a criminal defense attorney, whose morals were quite a bit more lax than her mother's. She still shudders to think of the shady deals he struck, the bribes he took. When she graduated high school, Kahlan swore that she would follow in her mother's footsteps, do everything she could to put the filth of the world behind bars.
She'd started freelancing as a dominatrix on a whim. Her paralegal job had fallen through, and she'd been complaining about not being able to make rent. Her younger sister had brought up the idea as a joke. For being a bit on the conservative side, Dennee always did know about the most bizarre things.
“You're already good at ordering people around,” the blonde had teased. “Why not get paid for it?”
She'd been shocked when Kahlan took her up on the dare. At first Kahlan had just been curious, but she quickly discovered that she enjoyed the rush of power - and the money wasn't bad, either. It got harder to juggle schoolwork with her sessions with clients, and she'd been on the verge of having to choose between them when Richard had shown up.
When she'd finished with him, Richard had been so besotted that he almost forgot his reasons for making the appointment in the first place. Kahlan had almost been out the door when he'd called after her and told her about his grandfather's operation.
Zedd Zorander was no ordinary businessman, even in the context of his profession. While all of his girls performed admirably in the exchange of domination for money, his Confessors served a higher calling than pleasure. Those skilled enough to earn the title were assigned targets, usually criminals or people closely associated with them. The Confessor seduced the target and coerced them into spilling their secrets. The information gathered was passed on to Zedd's connections in law enforcement, and used to prosecute the guilty parties.
The opportunity to combine both of her passions had been too good to pass up, even if Kahlan does have to put up with Richard's lovesick advances on an almost daily basis. It's almost sad, really; he can be a really nice guy sometimes, when he's not mooning over her. But Kahlan just can't see herself being interested in anything but friendship, and Richard's “seeking” skills unfortunately don't apply to taking a hint.
It's a minor annoyance, given how much Kahlan enjoys her job. She takes pride in her skills, but she's not sure even she is good enough to successfully target a Mord-Sith.
The Mord-Sith are Darken Rahl's girls. While Zedd urges his employees to keep business and pleasure separate, Rahl is insistent that they are one and the same. His People's Palace is well known for its reputation of never turning away a paying customer, and never letting any client leave unsatisfied. Zedd is convinced that the man acquires his girls through less-than-legal channels, and has made it his mission to bring the man to justice.
But the Mord-Sith are trained to do exactly the same thing as the Confessors - albeit with more intimate methods. Kahlan can't imagine allowing herself to be dominated, so she can't see how she's supposed to convince a Mord-Sith to do just that.
Zedd sips at his drink, waggling his eyebrows at Kahlan. “Everyone enjoys a bit of role reversal now and then, child.”
Kahlan raises an eyebrow skeptically. “If you say so.”
Zedd reaches down to grab a slip of paper resting on the ground by his seat, waving it at Kahlan. “You'll meet her here, at the appointed time.”
Kahlan steps closer to take the paper, scanning it briefly before Richard bounds into the room.
“Kahlan!” Richard greets her with his usual boyish enthusiasm, and she has to fight not to roll her eyes.
Forcing a friendly smile onto her face, Kahlan turns to the doorway. “Hello, Richard.”
“Big assignment?” His smile is at once shy and overwhelming.
“Yep,” she replies briskly, tucking the paper into the back pocket of her jeans. “I'd better go get ready.”
With a last look at Zedd, Kahlan slips past Richard into the hall, careful not to let any part of her body touch him - he'd only take it as encouragement. She can feel his eyes follow her until she rounds the corner, but her mind is on more pressing matters.
How is she going to seduce a Mord-Sith?
*****
The Hotel Sebastian isn't in the best neighborhood, which isn't quite what you would expect from a five-star establishment. What it lacks in locale, however, it makes up for in amenities. It's got the usual in-room jacuzzi, lightning-fast wi-fi, twenty-four hour concierge and room service (just don't touch the mini-bar if you want to leave with your bank account intact). But what makes Hotel Sebastian special are the maps. If you know who and how to ask - and have enough cash - the proprietor can provide you with maps more detailed than any you've ever seen - maps that highlight locations and services you'd never find otherwise. The People's Palace is a popular destination among Sebastian's guests, but it's not the only one by far. Sebastian's maps can find you anything you could ask for - legal or not.
Naturally, offering this sort of service is a substantial risk. The other thing Hotel Sebastian is known for is its exceptional security. Guards, cameras, motion detectors - Sebastian spares no expense (and doesn't hesitate to charge a premium for it). Kahlan can guess why Cara Mason would choose to stay here. While Sebastian has an amicable working relationship with Darken Rahl, he knows how to protect his own interests. If Rahl tried anything here, he'd find himself thrown out on his ass in seconds.
As it happens, Cara Mason is not technically a Mord-Sith - not anymore. She recently quit, which is quite the accomplishment considering no one has ever left Darken Rahl's employ and lived to tell about it. It's never as obvious as murder, but over the years there have been enough “accidents” to raise suspicions. Kahlan imagines that the security of this hotel would appeal to someone in such a position.
Cara's new-found unemployment is the reason for Kahlan's assignment. This is an opportunity Zedd could only have dreamed of. Cara Mason was not just any Mord-Sith. She'd been Rahl's number one commodity until about a week ago, when she'd abruptly quit and promptly disappeared. Zedd's sources had tracked her here not even a full day ago, and he'd wasted no time in sending his best Confessor. The information that Cara has been privy to could break Zedd's case against Rahl wide open.
The only problem is, Kahlan has no idea how she's going to acquire this information. As Rahl's top Mord-Sith, Cara was known for being very good at what she did - and that did not include submitting. It's going to take all of Kahlan's considerable skill and finesse to successfully complete this assignment.
Fortunately, dressing the part wasn't nearly as difficult. Kahlan's signature white dress is legend among the Confessors. The formfitting silk comes to mid-thigh, showing off her long, well-toned legs. Spaghetti straps hold up a plunging neckline held together by lacing intentionally left loose, exposing a generous amount of cleavage. Thick dark hair spills over creamy shoulders spattered with freckles. The barest hint of makeup and strappy white stilettos - with matching white leather purse - complete the look. On anyone else, the dress would look like it belonged in a high-end lingerie store. On Kahlan, it manages to look almost regal.
Entering the bar, she spots her target right away. The blonde is seated at the bar, wearing close-fitting black slacks and a low-cut black tank top under a blood red leather blazer. Her feet, propped up on the rungs of the bar stool, are sheathed in sleek red leather boots.
Kahlan slides onto the stool next to her, laying her purse in front of her on the bar. She glances casually at the blonde before leaning over the bar, careful to tilt her body ever-so-slightly to allow Cara a fleeting view of her cleavage as she gets the bartender's attention.
“I'll have a Screaming Orgasm,” she says smoothly. The bartender's eyes predictably drop to her chest before he gives her a slow nod and starts to mix the drink. She can feel Cara's eyes burning into her as she settles back on her stool, carefully crossing her legs.
“I usually like to get to know a girl first,” Cara purrs, her mouth pulling up in a sultry smirk as she takes a sip of her own drink. Scotch on the rocks, Kahlan notes. Her target likes to get right to the point.
A small smile touches Kahlan's lips as she turns to meet Cara's gaze. The flush on her cheeks is an artful combination of deliberate effort and the thrill of anticipation. “It's a guilty pleasure of mine,” she admits softly, bringing her drink to her lips. Cara quirks an eyebrow, her green eyes smoldering. “The drink, I mean.”
“Of course,” Cara replies, her voice gently mocking.
Kahlan allows her smile to widen a bit as she sets her drink down, offering her hand to the blonde. “I'm Kahlan.”
Cara takes her hand, her fingertips gently stroking Kahlan's wrist before she releases her grip. “Pleasure to meet you, Kahlan.”
Kahlan's lips purse slightly in amusement. “Do you have a name?”
Cara eyes her thoughtfully as she takes another sip of her drink, rolling the liquid over her tongue before swallowing. When she sets it back down, she appears to have come to a decision.
“Cara.”
It's a minor victory, but Kahlan takes note of it nonetheless. “And what do you do, Cara?” she asks, keeping her voice light.
“I'm between jobs right now,” Cara replies, her expression betraying nothing.
Kahlan presses further. “Time for a change?”
Cara chuckles, but there's no mirth in it. “That and my boss was an asshole,” she says drily.
Kahlan nods her understanding. “I've been there. Couldn't keep his hands to himself?” She's treading a dangerous line, and she knows it.
“Something like that,” Cara says, and a hint of something dark flashes through her eyes. It's gone as soon as it appears, but Kahlan doesn't miss a thing. “What about you?”
Kahlan's prepared for the deflection, the lie springing automatically to her lips. “I'm in Human Resources.”
Cara's eyebrow quirks in interest, her eyes following the line of Kahlan's throat as the brunette sips her drink. “You must be good with people.”
“You could say that,” Kahlan smirks, setting the glass down on the bar. She drags a manicured fingernail around the rim, collecting droplets of liquid on the pad of her finger. She brings it to her lips, tongue flicking out to swipe over the digit. Cara's eyes are glued to her throughout the process. Marking another point for herself in her mental tally, Kahlan presses onward. “So what brings you to this fine establishment?”
Cara averts her eyes, taking a generous pull from her glass. “Nothing interesting.”
“You did say you like to get to know a girl first,” Kahlan points out. The implication is not lost on the blonde.
A smug grin spreads over Cara's full lips. “I did,” she purrs, leaning in slightly. “I never said anything about the girl getting to know me.”
It's a struggle for Kahlan not to roll her eyes. Well, she knew this was going to be difficult. She lets her hand drop to Cara's thigh, feeling the heat of the blonde's skin through her slacks. “So what else do you want to know?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow in challenge.
Cara rakes her eyes down Kahlan's body, settling on the hand on her thigh before she meets Kahlan's smoldering gaze. “I think I know all I need to,” she drawls, raising her drink to her lips to finish it off. Setting it back on the bar, she reaches into the inside of her blazer, pulling out a leather wallet. Blood red, of course. Kahlan's not surprised.
What Kahlan is is nervous. She had hoped to get a bit more alcohol into Cara before they went upstairs. She doesn't often get her targets drunk before working on them - it almost feels like cheating - but with Cara, she'll need all the help she can get.
Kahlan watches as Cara tosses some bills on the bar before returning the wallet to her jacket. Kahlan's hand drops from her thigh as Cara slides off of the stool.
Then suddenly Cara is behind her, fingers brushing lightly against her skin as they tuck dark hair behind Kahlan's ear. Cara's breath is hot in her ear. “You have a room?”
A shiver shoots down Kahlan's spine, and her mouth is suddenly very dry. She tells herself it's just nerves and nods. She reaches for her glass, tilting the last of the alcohol into her mouth.
Cara's eyes sear into her as she licks the lingering moisture from her lips. When she speaks, there's a hint of impatience in the blonde's tone. “Then what are we waiting for?”
*****
Kahlan is hardly surprised when Cara all but shoves her into the room, pressing her up against the door and moving in for a kiss. This is a woman who is accustomed to being in control.
Not tonight, Kahlan thinks with a smirk as she pushes against the blonde a split-second before their lips meet, quickly reversing their positions. “That's not how this is going to work,” she murmurs, her breath brushing over Cara's lips as she holds her firmly against the door.
“And how is it going to work?” Cara asks, a challenge in her voice as she struggles briefly against Kahlan's hold.
Kahlan smiles dangerously as her hands slip inside Cara's blazer. She slides the leather back over her shoulders, effectively pinning Cara's arms to her sides. “How do you think?”
Cara looks slightly unsure, as though she's contemplating whether she should allow this. Kahlan watches her carefully, working through alternate strategies in her mind. She has a feeling her usual contingency plans won't work with this woman. In the end, Cara shrugs the blazer off and leans back against the door, her eyes daring Kahlan to take control.
Kahlan grins with a flash of teeth, tugging on the bottom of Cara's shirt as she steps backward into the room. Cara follows with a hungry expression on her face, stopping when they are standing next to the bed. She dutifully stands still as Kahlan slips her hands under her tank top, fingernails dragging along the soft skin of Cara's abdomen as she slowly pushes the black cotton up.
After pulling the top over Cara's head, Kahlan moves behind the blonde, the stilettos giving her an added height advantage. Her hands reach around Cara's waist, tracing the edge of her slacks. When she feels Cara begin to tremble, Kahlan smiles. She may be able to pull this off after all. “You never did say what kind of work you did,” she murmurs into Cara's ear as her fingers start to work at her belt.
Cara's shoulders tense, and she is silent for a long moment. Kahlan stills her hands, waiting for Cara's answer. Her silk-covered breasts press deliberately into Cara's back, the bare skin of her arms hot against Cara's waist.
When it becomes clear that Kahlan is not going to continue unless she speaks, Cara clears her throat. “You could say I was a sort of specialized information analyst,” she says carefully, her breath ragged.
Kahlan is impressed. Technically speaking, Cara did not lie. She wonders what that means. Filing it away for later consideration, she returns to Cara's belt, slipping it free of the buckle. Her fingers move on to the button of Cara's slacks as she hums, lips barely a hairsbreadth away from her neck. “And when you're not analyzing information,” she continues, “what do you do for fun?”
Cara's breath hitches as Kahlan tugs the zipper of her slacks down, sliding the material over her hips. “I'm kind of a workaholic.”
“Mmm.” Kahlan's heard stories about Mistress Cara, mostly revolving around the woman's insatiable appetite on and off the clock. Workaholic, indeed. She takes a step back, staring briefly at the toned ass she's revealed. No underwear. Typical. Smirking, Kahlan moves around to Cara's front again. “Sit down.”
Cara's eyebrow shoots up at the brisk order, but Kahlan's gaze is firm, the corner of her lips curling up slightly as though daring Cara to refuse.
After a moment, Cara relents, sinking down onto the edge of the bed and leaning back on her hands. Kahlan kneels before her on the carpet, offering a tantalizing view of her breasts.
“You must be going crazy,” Kahlan speculates, tugging off one of Cara's boots. She can feel Cara's eyes caressing her skin. “Being unemployed,” she clarifies, pulling off the other boot.
Cara's arms are tense as she braces herself on the edge of the bed, her eyes hooded and dark. “Something's driving me crazy,” Cara replies roughly, raising an eyebrow. Kahlan smirks, her nails dragging down Cara's legs as she slides off the blonde's pants and socks.
Sitting back to admire her handiwork, Kahlan finds that she does not need to fake the appreciation in her eyes. Cara meets her gaze defiantly, half-lidded eyes dark with desire; her breath comes in heavy pants, and her breasts strain against the confines of her simple black bra. Cara's legs fall open, exposing her glistening sex, and the expression on her face suggests it may not have been an accident.
Kahlan notes the lack of hair, and wonders if it's a personal choice, or if the rumors are true that Rahl forces his Mord-Sith to wax, to better appeal to his particular clientele. She tries to ignore the way her breath catches at the scent of Cara's arousal. This is business.
Slowly, Kahlan slides her hands up the back of Cara's calves, keeping her eyes fixed on the other woman's. Rising back to her feet, she maintains the contact, fingertips dragging across Cara's thighs until she meets the edge of the bed. Bracing herself on either side of Cara's hips, she leans in, her lips brushing against Cara's ear.
“Are you complaining?” she asks, a hint of steel in her voice.
Cara swallows, golden hair fluttering as she shakes her head. Kahlan's lips curl up in a satisfied smile, and her hands slide up from the bed, gliding along the warm skin of Cara's back before they reach the back of her bra. Her fingers make short work of the clasp, the thin straps falling down Cara's tanned shoulders. Kahlan tugs at the garment, and Cara dutifully lifts her hands from the bed, allowing her to slide it off.
Her eyes don't move from Cara's as she tosses the bra aside. She slides her fingertips down over Cara's shoulders, tracing her collarbone before moving lower. Cara's nipples are hard under her fingers, but Kahlan resists the sudden urge to pinch and tug at them the way she's sure the blonde would appreciate. This is about teasing, not pleasure.
Cara groans softly, arching into the deliberately gentle touch. When Kahlan's fingernails scrape gently over the stiffened peaks, Cara's control slips. Her hands shoot out to grasp Kahlan's hips, and the response is instantaneous. Kahlan's hands abandon Cara's breasts, reaching down to grip the other woman's wrists.
“Did I say you could touch?” she asks, the sharp words undermined by the deep, husky tone of her voice. The solid feel of Cara's wrists enclosed in her tight grip sends a thrill shooting straight between her legs, and Kahlan draws a shaky breath. She's starting to have a hard time telling the difference between practiced deception and honest reaction.
The blonde lets out a little grunt of displeasure, but she relaxes her arms nonetheless. Kahlan releases her wrists before stepping back, pinning the woman with her gaze. “Lie back.”
Cara reluctantly obeys, scooting up to rest her head on one of the luxuriously fluffed pillows. One of her arms bends up behind her head, legs spread wide as she reclines on the bed. The other hand drifts to her own breast, giving the aching nipple the attention Kahlan had denied.
Kahlan's eyes darken - with arousal, disapproval, she can't tell anymore - but she doesn't protest. Instead, she rakes her eyes over the gloriously naked woman, drinking in every dip and curve of the smooth, tanned skin.
She's dangerously close to forgetting her purpose when her gaze lands on a jagged white line crossing Cara's left hip. She'd missed it before, nestled as it is in the crease of her thigh. It streaks up along her hipbone, ending just before it would wrap around to Cara's back. The sight is jarring enough to remind Kahlan of what's at stake.
Kneeling on the bottom edge of the bed, Kahlan crawls up between Cara's legs, her hand coming to rest next to Cara's waist. Her right hand slides over the blonde's abdomen, feeling the muscles clench under her fingertips before moving to lightly trace the scar. Cara trembles beneath her, and when Kahlan looks up, there's a hint of panic amidst the hunger in the woman's jade eyes. For an instant, Kahlan almost feels guilty for what she intends to do.
But Kahlan did not get where she is by being soft of heart. With the tips of her fingers whispering back and forth across Cara's skin, Kahlan forces herself to speak.
“What happened?” she asks casually. As if she doesn't know. Darken Rahl is not known for being gentle with his employees.
Cara's eyes cloud over, and her hand abandons her breast to clench in the comforter. “Workplace accident.” Her throat closes around the last word, and Kahlan doesn't even need her finely tuned skills to see that it's a lie - or at the very least, not quite the truth.
Kahlan's hand stops its movement, the heat of her fingertips burning into Cara's hip. “The asshole boss?” she guesses, watching Cara's face carefully. It's a gamble, pressing this close to the truth. If Cara starts to suspect...
But Cara just swallows and clenches her jaw. “I don't want to talk about it.”
Kahlan can feel victory slipping from her grasp. Cara's closing off, rebuilding the walls Kahlan has been carefully taking apart. Desperation tugs at her chest. Clinging to her resolve, Kahlan pushes it back down. Her expression betrays nothing as she moves up Cara's body, straddling a thigh as she leans over the woman.
“So defiant,” she remarks, her thigh just barely hovering over Cara's sex, close enough to feel the heat of it. “I thought you wanted this.”
Without warning, Cara meets the dare with a thrust of her hips, her hand shooting up to tangle itself in Kahlan's hair. Blue eyes go wide with shock as a flood of wetness coats Kahlan's thigh, searing into her skin.
Kahlan prides herself on her boundaries. Over the course of her career, the line has wavered, bent to suit a situation, but she's always kept herself firmly behind it. With one simple movement, Cara has surged across that line without a backward glance. The worst part is that Kahlan is finding it hard to remember why that's a bad thing.
Cara doesn't give her much chance to dwell on it. Her fingers tighten in Kahlan's hair, tugging until her mouth is even with Kahlan's ear.
“Oh, I want this,” Cara growls, nipping at Kahlan's soft earlobe. “Make no mistake about that. And I'll talk about the weather in D'Hara, if that's what gets you off.” Her voice hardens as she drops her head back onto the pillow. “But I won't talk about him.”
Kahlan reaches back to untangle Cara's hand, pushing it down onto the pillow beside the woman's head. Her features are calm, her ragged breathing the only indication that her composure has been shaken.
Instead of responding directly to Cara's words, Kahlan focuses on reclaiming her control. She leans back up onto her heels, her hand sliding down Cara's arm to trace teasing circles over full breasts.
“You don't seem like the type to follow someone else's lead,” Kahlan remarks. Her other hand comes up to join the first, fingernails dragging over Cara's ribs.
Cara relaxes a bit under her, no doubt relieved at the change in subject. Arching into Kahlan's touch, she lets out an appreciative moan. “It's not my usual style.”
“And what's your usual style?” The question pops out unbidden, and Kahlan tells herself that it's strategy, nothing more. Keep her talking. The nervous flip in her stomach isn't curiosity, it's the thrill of power, the adrenaline rush that comes with pulling off a difficult job. “What would you have done differently, if you were in control?”
“I'd have fucked you up against the door until you screamed my name.” Cara's voice is thick, dark with hunger. “Then I'd have thrown you on the bed and fucked you again, over and over until you begged me to stop.”
Kahlan's eyes slam shut against the flood of arousal that surges through her at Cara's words. “That - that's...different,” she fumbles. When she opens her eyes, Cara is smirking up at her.
“It usually gets the job done.”
Kahlan swallows in an attempt to moisten her mouth, which seems to have mysteriously gone dry. The air is cold against her thigh where Cara's arousal is drying, and she has to fight the urge to press forward again, to feel the molten heat against her skin once more.
Cara's smirk falters as Kahlan's hands drift lower, nails scraping over the woman's taut stomach. “I don't know,” Kahlan purrs, dipping a couple of fingers lower to brush over the skin leading to Cara's sex. She grins as the blonde draws a sharp breath. “There's something to be said for delayed gratification.”
Cara grunts in response, turning her hand to clutch at the pillow beside her head. Her eyes stay locked on Kahlan's. “As long as it's not delayed for too long,” she growls. There's a hint of need in her voice that Kahlan is sure she would never admit to.
Kahlan's gaze travels over the squirming woman beneath her as she contemplates her situation. Cara has a point, even if she doesn't quite realize that she made it. There's only so long Kahlan can continue to tease before the blonde gets fed up and either takes matters into her own hands or leaves, and she hasn't come close to getting the information she needs.
Maybe if she gets what she wants... The thought flickers through Kahlan's mind, and she's appalled to find herself even considering it. Cara's earlier breach of her boundaries had been a shock, and a first to be sure, but it hadn't been Kahlan that had crossed the line. Her record is still clean. If she does this now, it will be a violation of every ethical code Kahlan has created for herself.
It also might get her the information. Kahlan has learned intimately that people will say close to anything when their minds are clouded by desire, and that lesson has served her well. But she's also heard her sister Confessors speak in hushed tones of the pillow talk that can result when a target is allowed satisfaction. She's been curious, of course, but never before has she been tempted to find out for herself.
She's never had a target like Cara Mason, though. If she'd met the woman on a day off, Kahlan doesn't doubt that she would have ended up pressed against the door exactly as Cara intended. Oddly enough, she finds that she's not even bothered by the thought that she'd so willingly submit.
Her eyes drift back up Cara's body, lingering on dusky nipples, the flex of a bicep as Cara strains to stay still. Kahlan has had sex before, but she's always kept it separate from her work; power games are something she never would have thought to include in her private life, for many very good reasons. Seeing Cara lie so passively beneath her, when Kahlan is sure that every muscle in her body is screaming for her to take control, Kahlan can't remember what any of them were. She wonders if this is what it was like for her sisters, the first time any of them crossed this line.
In the end, it comes down to a choice: Kahlan can get up right now and walk out the door, and pray to the Creator that she never sees Cara Mason's face again, or she can give in to her burning desire to see the blonde writhe beneath her in ecstasy, boundaries and ethics and spotless records be damned. For the sake of completing her assignment, of course.
Kahlan cannot fathom the idea of leaving now, so the choice ends up being surprisingly easy to make. She slides her fingers lower, gliding along the edges of Cara's sex, and she has to stifle a moan at the slippery warmth. Cara doesn't even attempt to hold hers back, moaning appreciatively at the touch. Kahlan seeks out Cara's eyes again, and heat sparks in her stomach at the sight of the darkened green orbs gazing hungrily at her through half-closed eyelids.
A strangled whimper passes Cara's lips as Kahlan's fingers slip fleetingly over her clit. Her knuckles are white from gripping the pillow. Cara arches up into Kahlan's hand, impatient for more solid contact.
“You've probably never had to wait for this, have you?” Kahlan teases, a smug grin growing on her face as she explores slick folds with her fingertips.
“Not usually.” The words come out as a breathy groan, and a familiar rush of power thrills through Kahlan. She's used to having people at her mercy, but there's something about this woman that makes this feeling stronger than ever.
Kahlan dips down, tracing teasing circles around the entrance to Cara's sex, her smile widening impossibly as she coaxes another wanton sound from the woman's throat.
“Your patience is -” Kahlan cuts off abruptly, her eyes slamming shut as she slips a finger inside, wet heat clenching hungrily around the digit. When she opens them again, Cara's managed to raise an eyebrow, smirking at her loss of composure. Kahlan shakes her head, trying to remember what she was saying. “- admirable,” she finishes. Maybe talking isn't the best idea right now.
Cara thrusts her hips urgently against Kahlan's hand, and Kahlan adds another finger, sliding out then slowly back in. She's barely holding on to the remnants of her control, sitting back on her heels and watching her fingers disappear into the glistening warmth of Cara's sex. She's given up on trying to speak, and her tongue slides out to moisten her lips as she idly wonders what Cara would taste like.
Cara's thigh jerks up, sliding out from between her legs. It slams against Kahlan's center in the process, igniting an explosion of white hot pleasure that spreads throughout her body. Her fingers slam forward a little harder than she intended, eliciting a deep groan of appreciation from the blonde.
Kahlan's hand stills for a moment, buried deep inside Cara, as she regains her equilibrium. She's so distracted by the sudden jolt of sensation that she's caught off guard when Cara surges up, somehow managing to rise to a kneeling position without ever letting go of Kahlan's fingers.
Then Cara's hand is tangled in her hair, Cara's lips and teeth and tongue are claiming her mouth like they've always belonged to her. Kahlan moans, shocked into inaction at how suddenly the tables have turned.
Kahlan had been willing to bend her rules, but only as long as she could rationalize it as just going that little extra distance to get the job done. This wasn't part of the plan. Cara's tongue in her mouth, Cara's hand sliding up her thigh under the silk of her dress, Cara tugging on her hair just hard enough...Kahlan never agreed to these things, never planned for them. But now that they're happening, Kahlan is helpless to stop them.
So she does the only thing she can think of: she fights back. Her free hand comes up to clench in blonde hair, tugging almost painfully as she returns the kiss with a fervor sprung from a need to win. As Cara's fingertips slide up brush over the barely-there lace thong covering her sex, Kahlan moans and adds another finger, slamming up hard into the blonde.
Cara groans, jerking against Kahlan's hand, but she's not deterred from her task. In one smooth movement, she shoves aside the white lace to slide two fingers deep into Kahlan.
Then there is nothing but sharp, wet noises as they thrust against each other with increasing urgency, half-swallowed moans as their mouths battle for dominance.
Tightness builds low in Kahlan's stomach, and she increases her rhythm, determined to push Cara over the edge first. Cara responds in kind, catching on to Kahlan's game. It's one Cara knows well, and one she's not accustomed to losing.
Ultimately, though, Cara's predilection for near-instant gratification is her undoing. She comes with a violent shudder, her hand slipping from Kahlan's hair to clutch at a freckled shoulder. Cara's other hand continues pumping between Kahlan's legs, and she follows Cara over the edge with a licentious scream.
Cara grins into Kahlan's lips, slowly drawing her fingers out of Kahlan's pulsing heat. “My patience only goes so far,” she remarks, pulling away from Kahlan to bring her fingers to her lips. Her tongue flicks out to slide over her glistening fingers, and Kahlan almost whimpers at the jolt it sends to her already throbbing sex.
As the fog of orgasm slowly recedes from her mind, Kahlan remembers her purpose. Her hand slips out of Cara's hair, drifting to Cara's chest to push the woman firmly back down onto the bed. When Cara is once again gazing up at her, blonde hair spilling over the white pillowcase, Kahlan slowly pulls her fingers from the woman, drawing a deep, satisfied moan from Cara's throat.
“So we've learned that patience isn't one of your strong suits,” Kahlan comments, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She drags her wet fingers over the woman's skin, idly painting random designs into her chest that cool and tighten in the air-conditioned room. “What other mysteries lurk beneath this tough girl facade?”
Something flashes through Cara's eyes, but she covers it up with a smirk. “What makes you think it's a facade?”
Kahlan smiles, keeping her voice light. “Everyone has secrets, Cara.”
Cara stiffens. “What makes you think I'd tell you mine?”
“We've gotten quite close,” Kahlan says seductively, trailing her fingers down to Cara's hip. “We shared a good deal, just now. What's a few words?”
“It takes more than a simple fuck to make me spill my deep dark secrets, Kahlan,” Cara says through clenched teeth.
Kahlan's brow creases, and the hurt that flashes through her eyes is only partly by design. “I was only making conversation,” she says defensively. She traces her fingertips over the scar on Cara's hip. “He must have really been an exceptional asshole.”
Cara's hand shoots out to catch Kahlan's wrist, gripping it almost painfully as she locks eyes with the Confessor. “I told you,” she grinds out, and Kahlan rolls her eyes, cutting her off.
“You don't want to talk about him, I know,” she says exasperatedly, flopping down at Cara's side and pulling her wrist free. “What could he possibly have done that was so vile you won't even say it?”
“Why are you so interested?” Cara asks, suspicion flaring to life in her eyes.
Kahlan swallows nervously. “I told you, I'm just making conversation.”
Cara narrows her eyes, scrutinizing Kahlan carefully. “I don't think that's it,” she says slowly, understanding dawning in her eyes. “I don't think it was an accident, running into you downstairs in the bar.”
Kahlan averts her gaze, her heart racing. This is exactly what she was afraid of; you can't turn a Mord-Sith's own tricks against them, no matter how skilled you are. “That's ridiculous, what else would it have -”
Cara cuts her off with a cold glare, the delicious tension that had lingered in the air moments ago shifting into something far less comfortable. “You work for him.”
The venom in her voice startles Kahlan. She knows Rahl doesn't hold a high opinion of Zedd, but she didn't expect the amount of hatred Cara is displaying. She falters, searching for words, but Cara doesn't let her find them.
“The bastard sent you to make sure I wasn't going to tattle on him,” she spits disgustedly, scooting away from Kahlan.
It dawns on Kahlan then, and she rushes to correct her. “Cara, you've got it wrong,” she says, shifting to close the distance between them. Cara ignores her, shaking her head in disbelief.
“I can't believe I didn't see it sooner,” she mutters, pushing her hands into the mattress as she prepares to get up.
Kahlan moves quickly, straddling Cara's hips. Cara struggles, and Kahlan presses firmly at her shoulders to keep her down. “I don't work for Rahl.” Cara looks at her skeptically, testing her limbs in anticipation of fighting back. Kahlan rolls her eyes. “If I worked for him, why would I have bothered teasing you so much? If the rumors I hear are true, Mord-Sith have less subtle methods of persuasion.”
Hesitation creeps into Cara's eyes, and Kahlan's lips quirk triumphantly.
“I'm a Confessor.”
The response is instantaneous. Cara groans, her head falling back against the pillow. “I should have known.”
Pride swells in Kahlan's chest. She always did love getting recognition for her work. Her smile softens as she meets Cara's eyes. “I know that my methods were less than honest,” she admits. Cara huffs sarcastically, but Kahlan presses on, conviction growing in her voice. “But my intentions were pure. I'm sure you know better than most how dangerous Rahl is. I'm working to help Zedd bring him down, but we can't do that without certain information. Information that I suspect you have.” Her eyes probe into Cara's, trying to gauge the blonde's reaction. “You can trust me,” she adds quietly.
Cara scoffs, but at least she's not trying to escape anymore. "You've lied to me since the minute you sat down next to me in the bar. Why would I trust you?"
Kahlan looks down at Cara's naked form: the flushed skin, the full breasts heaving with the aftermath of orgasm, the place where their bodies meet under the white silk of her dress. Almost unconsciously, she grinds her hips down, gasping at the feel of Cara's sex burning into her own, separated by a meager scrap of lace.
"I've never done this before.” Kahlan blushes a little as she says it, a reaction borne of both guilty shame and shy embarrassment. At Cara's raised eyebrow, she elaborates. "This job has never been about sex for me. I pride myself on a spotless record of keeping business and pleasure distinctly separate." Her eyes burn into Cara's, a hint of vulnerability shining in them. "Until now."
It could be just another lie, another way to gain Cara's trust to get the information she's looking for, but for some reason, Cara seems to believe her. Grabbing hold of Kahlan's hips, she quickly flips them over so that she is resting between Kahlan's legs. Her hands slide down to drag Kahlan's dress up over her hips, setting Kahlan's heart racing all over again. She wants to protest; Cara caught her off-guard before, and a second round is not in her plans any more than the first one was. She wants to protest, but somehow she can't force her lips to form the words.
"And if I tell you what you want to know?" Cara asks, a challenge in her voice as she slides slowly down Kahlan's body. "What's in it for me?"
Cara's breasts brush against Kahlan's thighs as her head dips down level with the dampened white lace. Kahlan whimpers, her legs widening reflexively as she fumbles for words.
“You mean besides putting Rahl behind bars?”
Cara's tongue flicks out to glide over the soft fabric, eliciting a sharp gasp from the woman beneath her. Pulling away from the jerk of Kahlan's hips, Cara raises an eyebrow, a bitter smirk on her lips. "If I believed there was a cop in this town that would arrest that man, don't you think I would have gone to them already?"
The silk whispers over Kahlan's skin as Cara slides the dress higher. “If Zedd's right -” Kahlan gasps as Cara teases her abdomen with the barest hint of lips and tongue. “- about Rahl's business practices -” Cara's tongue dips into her navel before moving sideways to trace wet circles into her hip. “- this is a federal matter,” she manages to force out between moans. “Rahl's bribes and blackmail don't reach that far.”
Cara nips at Kahlan's hipbone before raising her eyes to Kahlan's once more. "Say that's true," Cara murmurs, sliding the dress up higher, teasing at the underside of Kahlan's breasts. Her fingers slide up a little farther, unfastening the front clasp of Kahlan's strapless bra. "Why would I need to go through you?" Warm hands close over pale breasts, gently kneading at the soft flesh. “I could go to the feds myself."
Kahlan whimpers again as Cara's mouth closes over a breast, bathing her hardened nipple in moist heat. She arches into the all-too-fleeting touch; Cara's lips release the nipple with a wet pop, her hand coming up to replace them as she slides higher up Kahlan's body.
Vaguely, Kahlan realizes Cara asked her a question."Zedd could -" Kahlan's breath catches in her throat as Cara sucks her way up her neck. "- protect you," she finishes.
Cara's mouth lingers over Kahlan's ear, nipping teasingly at the lobe. "You're not listening, Confessor," she murmurs in a husky voice, her breath hot in Kahlan's ear. "Maybe there's something I want more than Zedd's protection."
She lets her thigh fall lightly between Kahlan's legs, brushing over Kahlan's sex. Kahlan bites her lip as her hips arch into the contact. Her fingers are clenching the sheets fiercely, knuckles white with the struggle not to take control. She's in a precarious position; she's on the verge of getting the information she needs, but she has to let Cara lead now. It's foreign and Kahlan did not think she would like it, but Cara's teasing is doing things to her that she thought were impossible. She's almost ashamed that she's so quickly been reduced to such a mess. Usually it's her targets that are quivering with desire, willing to do anything just for release.
"Cara," she breathes out, her voice dripping with need. The blonde smirks down at her.
"Aren't you going to ask me what it is?" Her tongue traces the shell of Kahlan's ear, then her lips brush over Kahlan's cheek as she moves to cover Kahlan's mouth with her own, a hairsbreadth between them. Her warm breath bathes Kahlan's lips, and Kahlan can't stop herself from trying to close the distance. Cara pulls back.
"Uh-uh, you have to say it."
"What do you want, Cara?" Kahlan asks, struggling with the words. But of course she knows, can see it in the glint in those green eyes.
Cara's tongue slips out to trace Kahlan's upper lip, sending sparks shooting straight to her sex. Kahlan moans, trying to meet Cara's tongue with her own, but Cara pulls just out of reach.
"I want you," she pauses, adding emphasis to her next words, "to beg me to fuck you."
The hunger in Cara's expression suggests that this may not be the first time she's thought of having a Confessor at her mercy. The request should not affect Kahlan like this; she does not beg, she does not give up her power. But taking stock of her position, the throbbing need between her legs, she realizes she's already lost control. She's beyond pride.
"Please," she gasps, her eyes locking onto Cara's. Cara looks back at her expectantly, and she elaborates. "Please fuck me."
Cara grins as she closes the distance, kissing Kahlan fiercely as she tugs her to a sitting position. After slipping the dress up over Kahlan's head and tossing it carelessly aside, she lowers the woman back down onto the bed. She slides slowly down Kahlan's body, her hardened nipples brushing against slick skin.
Kneeling between Kahlan's legs, Cara hooks her fingers under the thin strings of the white thong, sliding the damp material down Kahlan's legs before swiftly returning to her place between them.
Cara groans softly in appreciation as her eyes rake over the Kahlan's flushed skin. She brushes her fingers over the tiny patch of dark hair between Kahlan's legs. "For someone who doesn't usually take her clothes off, you're awfully well maintained."
Kahlan can only moan unintelligibly in response, but Cara's quirked eyebrow says she understands. It's not about who's going to see it, it's the thrill of power that comes from feeling desirable. Confidence is a vital commodity in their line of work.
Cara dips her finger between slick folds, sliding through the generous moisture. She smirks. "What's the matter, Confessor? I thought you liked to talk?"
Kahlan's hands release the sheets, moving up to grip at the bottom of the headboard. She doesn't try to answer with words, simply arching her hips against Cara's hand, begging wordlessly for more contact.
Cara smirks victoriously, a second and third finger joining the first as she slides easily into Kahlan's sex. A guttural moan tears from Kahlan's throat as she thrusts down against Cara's fingers.
The blonde straddles Kahlan's thigh, painting it with her own arousal as she grinds against it. It is not enough to make her come, but it's enjoyable in its own right, and a pleasing addition to the hot clenching of Kahlan's sex around her hand.
Cara's rhythm increases steadily, meeting each jerk of Kahlan's hips. Cara watches Kahlan's breasts bounce lewdly with each sharp movement. Her eyes darken impossibly further as Kahlan's face twists with desperate need.
It doesn't take long for Kahlan to come again, arching up off of the bed and clutching at Cara's shoulders. Her nails rake across the skin, leaving angry red marks. Cara hisses appreciatively at the sharp, gratifying sting.
When Kahlan recovers from the initial waves of pleasure crashing over her, her right hand slides down her thigh, slipping deliberately over Cara's slippery sex. Cara grunts in surprise and pleasure as Kahlan works roughly with her fingertips, rubbing rapid circles into the woman's clit. Her hand digs into Kahlan's hip to steady herself as she arches into the touch. Before long, the blonde spasms against her, her thighs clamping around Kahlan's in a vise grip.
Sated again, Cara collapses on her back beside Kahlan, staring up at the ceiling. Kahlan props herself up on her side, resting her hand on Cara's ribs under her left breast, feeling the rapid beat of her pulse under her fingers.
"I believe we had a deal," she murmurs. Something almost like guilt flashes through her, and she beats it back. She's feeling things that she shouldn't, things that have distracted her from her assignment thus far; she needn't feel guilty for putting duty first now.
Cara turns to look at her, sees the apology in Kahlan's eyes. She considers for a moment, then turns back to look at the ceiling.
"What do you want to know?" She asks, resigned. She knows what honor is, unlike her former employer.
Kahlan swallows, collecting her thoughts. She's not used to conducting interviews so calmly and openly. "Why don't we start with why you left?"
Cara hesitates, forcing her voice into neutrality. "You've obviously heard the stories about the People's Palace. Rahl is well-known for never turning away a paying customer." Kahlan nods, gently urging her to continue. "One of my sisters, Dahlia...she was a favorite of one of Rahl's prized clients - Senator Rothenberg." Her jaw clenched as she ground out the name. Kahlan's eyes widened in recognition; the Senator was a powerful player in Aydindril politics. "He was often...careless with Dahlia. Rahl ignored the injuries. As long as he gets paid, he doesn't care what the clients do."
Kahlan assumed as much, but a lump rises in her throat to hear it confirmed. Her fingers idly caress the soft skin covering Cara's ribs, a reflexive act of comfort that shouldn't feel as right as it does.
Cara draws a trembling breath. "This time, Rothenberg went too far. He put Dahlia in a coma." Her voice is shaking with fury. "Rahl set it up to look like she was mugged on her way to the store."
"Is she alright?" Kahlan asks, automatically, and she finds that she's honestly invested in the answer.
"She hasn't woken up yet. But the doctors are optimistic." A tear escapes out of the corner of Cara's eye, and Kahlan reaches up to catch it with her thumb before it slides into blonde hair.
The ache in Kahlan's chest raises all sorts of warning flags in her head, but she forces herself to press on with her assignment. "Zedd suspects that Rahl is involved in child trafficking."
Cara laughs bitterly, her eyes haunted as she continues to stare blankly at the ceiling. "He does get us young."
It's the confirmation Kahlan needed, but it's not enough - she needs specifics; even better would be if she could get Cara herself to testify. While she's trying to find the words to ask, Cara surprises her by continuing to talk.
"He tells us he's making us strong.” Her jaw clenches along with her fists. “He thinks he's justified in doing what he does, because he makes us powerful. But it's a lie. He's the one with all the power," she spits in disgust.
Overcome by an unexpected tenderness, Kahlan reaches over to cup Cara's cheek, guiding their gazes together. "We're going to bring him down, Cara," she says fiercely.
Unshed tears glitter in Cara's eyes, and Kahlan leans in to kiss her, swept up in a desire that's dangerously more than sexual. Cara inhales sharply, hesitating before returning the kiss with equal fervor. Their mouths clash together ardently, but the kiss is free of the battle for dominance that has accompanied all of their interactions tonight.
When Kahlan pulls away, Cara studies the Confessor curiously. Her blue eyes are turned down as she breathes rapidly, trying to sort out the thoughts and emotions racing around her head. Cara is confused herself; she's had plenty of experience with sex and power games...but somehow this night has shifted drastically away from such things.
Cara swallows nervously, clears her throat. "I'll do whatever I can to help." Kahlan's eyes snap back up to Cara's in surprise. "I won't be satisfied until I see the bastard pay."
Kahlan smiles then, a soft, genuine smile, and something tightens in Cara's chest. She returns the smile hesitantly, her breath catching in her throat as Kahlan leans in to kiss her again.
Kahlan is only mildly surprised when the kiss quickly becomes heated, Cara's hand coming up to tug at her hip as the blonde props herself up to mirror Kahlan's position.
When she pulls away, Cara's expression is clear of any conflict - there's only one thing in those deep jade eyes.
"So," Cara says slowly, a wicked smile on her lips as she drags her fingertips over Kahlan's hip, "since you've already shot your perfect record to hell and back," Kahlan gasps as Cara's fingers drift over her sex, "you wanna go again?"
Kahlan has had difficult assignments before, but never before has she had one quite so rewarding.
End.