Monica Reyes sighed with relief as she closed the apartment door behind her and laid her back against it, dropping her Delta Airlines branded luggage to the floor. It had been a long, hard leg of flights and shifting schedules this week, but she was finally home and able to sleep in a real bed again. The apartment was dark, besides the small couch-side table lamp in the living room, a courtesy from Gabe most likely as he was vaguely aware Monica would be returning sometime in the dark of early morning.

And he had been right. Monica raised her left wrist to look at the face of her smartwatch. 4:47am. Her flight had arrived at JFK three hours ago. There was barely any traffic out there (for New York, anyway) and it had still taken this long to get home. Alas, the misery of working for a major airline.

Then she glanced to her right and saw a pair of jet black men’s shoes set on the top of the door side shoe rack. They were tailored to look sleek and professional but treaded on the bottom in case running was required. Real lawman shoes.

Monica smiled to herself.

Gabe was home.

In that case, Monica thought to herself, sleep could wait.

The modest two-bedroom apartment was just off 92nd Street in Manhattan, right where two single people earning solid cash all for themselves could just barely afford a nice two-bed, two-bath with a kitchen to call home. The brick walls and wide windows gave the place a singles-sitcom vibe that both Monica and Gabe found amusing considering neither would be caught dead watching that shit. They had met through mutual friends who were getting married and leaving this apartment behind them; knowing how expensive Manhattan real estate had gotten, the couple in question had negotiated to transfer the lease to two close friends who could use it.

Thus, Monica and Gabe had become acquainted. For large chunks of time, they barely saw one another due to their work, which worked just fine for both of them; neither had any need or desire to socialize much. But they were both polite, good-humored people with some shared roots (being half black/half Puerto Rican, Monica’s parents had met and started their family in the same block of the Bronx that Gabe’s grandparents originally emigrated to). Add to that they were both objectively attractive: Gabe with his Calvin Klein model looks, solid muscles, and professional law enforcer dress and demeanor; Monica with her gym-sculpted body, full Latin ass, and flawless mocha complexion. Monica had often been told that if Zoe Kravitz had lighter colored eyes and slightly kinkier hair, she and Monica would be twins.

So it was only natural that, once they had had a few nights actually sharing the apartment at once, Gabe and Monica would give in to their lonely, carnal impulses. Neither of their careers lent themselves well to any kind of meaningful relationship and even just getting laid was difficult to come by with anyone either of them were genuinely attracted to. So, whenever they were both home, they acted on their silent agreement to fuck like rabbits, all else be damned.

Anticipation for fulfilling this noble roommate’s duty after such a long work streak filled Monica’s head with delight as she bit her bottom lip smiling and kicked off her shoes. She locked the door and left the luggage where it was; it wasn’t going anywhere. Now was the time for a hot, luxurious shower followed by a hot, luxurious dick.

Monica moved quietly to her bedroom (the master suite, which Gabe had so graciously offered Monica first dibs on) and closed the door before peeling every bit of Delta uniform and itchy undergarments from her body. Several minutes at a time of Monica’s shower were spent simply letting the steam roll over her, filling her breath with relaxation as the body wash suds and needles of hot water did their work on her skin. It was just the elemental massage Monica needed to both refresh herself and prepare for her next adventure at home.

This last thought brought another smile to Monica’s face accompanied by a twitch of pleasure between her legs. She reached down with both hands and rubbed water and suds in equal measure into the little pleasure crevice where her pussy lips lived. Something was beginning to awaken and blossom within Monica’s clean-shaven pelvis and she worked her fingers slowly into its southern end to stoke the feeling further along. A slow sigh of pleasure came out of her parted lips as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back into the shower water, sliding two of her fingers halfway inside herself to encourage her longing for that hot Latin cock.

She was ready.

Monica finished rinsing her hair and body, careful to wring the suds from her shoulder-length springs of hair before turning the shower temperature down and letting the cold water seal her pores for a moment. Then she dried herself down everywhere (except between her legs; there was no drying that). Once she felt her hair was dry enough to avoid catching a cold, she gave herself a “go get some; you’ve earned it” smile in the mirror before leaving the bathroom.

A moment later, Monica was gently and quietly sliding open the door to Gabe’s room. Gabe himself lay in the bed with one well-cultivated bicep over his eyes, the sheets rumpled up at his waist to cover the rest of his nudity; Monica had slept with him enough times to know he preferred sleeping naked, which worked just fine for her. Gabe’s suit was folded up and dangling in neat pieces off of various furniture throughout the room and foot tracks in the carpet around the bed were clear signs of his pacing before he had finally gone to sleep. By the look of things, he either hadn’t been sleeping long - a few hours at most - or he had spent most of the night tossing and turning. Knowing him, Monica thought, likely both.

A sudden noise made Monica jump and clutch a hand to chest before she found the source. Gabe’s phone was vibrating angrily on the nightstand beside the bed. It had taken Monica a moment to notice because Gabe had laid the phone down on its face, concealing most of the light from the awakened smartphone screen. Clearly, he hadn’t wanted anyone fucking up his sleep.

Too bad, Monica thought.

Monica grinned like a naughty child as she scampered to the side of Gabe’s bed and pulled the sheets slowly back. Sure enough, his cock lay in a nice half coil, as if it had been waiting just for her. The aroma rising from Gabe’s body was a mix of coconut and shea butter. As always, he had showered himself down before going to bed. Maybe he had anticipated this, too.

Gabe barely stirred at all as Monica crawled onto the bed and made her way between her roommate’s legs, dipping her head down to trace the curved shaft of Gabe’s cock with her wet, extended tongue. Almost immediately, Gabe’s pleasure piece twitched and began to unfurl, extending out to near full, swollen length in seconds.

Gabe murmured something in his sleep and gave a soft sigh of pleasure. That was all the encouragement Monica needed. She planted the soft ring of her lips at the tip of her roommate’s hardening cock and slid him inside her mouth. She took her time descending down his length, her tongue flexing to work the underside of the shaft.

That woke Gabe up.

“What the hell…?” he muttered, his voice laced with a sleepy groan of pleasure as Monica worked her way back up. “Monica? What time’sit? When did you…nngahh!”

Monica had just swallowed Gabe into her mouth again. She raised an eyebrow and grinned around his dick as she popped back off. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Gabe gasped and sighed. “I said when did y…hnnh!”

Monica scrubbed the head of Gabriel’s cock with her soft, puckered lips. “I believe what you meant to say,” Monica said between bouts of licking Gabe’s shaft, “was ‘welcome home, Monica. Thank you for the lovely dick-sucking, Monica.’”

Gabe chuckled and then seethed as Monica sucked his length again. “Welcome home, Monica,” he said through clenched, smiling teeth. “Thank y -“

“Fuck this,” Monica said, the heat in her eyes making her look like an animal as she rose from her burrow between Gabriel’s legs and began crawling up his torso.

Before Gabe could say a word, Monica was straddling him, her hand reaching back and under her to grab his cock and notch it where it needed to go. A moment later, they both moaned in unison as his fully-swollen length slid home inside her.

“Oh fuck,” Monica moaned, throwing her head back on hunched shoulders as her fingers dug into Gabe’s chest hair. “This is what I needed, baby. This is what I needed…”

“Yeah,” Gabe said, his eyes closed as he began flexing his hands along Monica’s toned hips. “Me…”

He opened his eyes, and for a split second, he saw Asma above him where Monica was supposed to be. Unlike the crime heiress’s usual self-sure smiles, in this moment, she looked needful and gripped in an entirely different kind of desire.

“…too…?”

Monica looked at Gabriel and frowned. “You okay, Gabe?”

Gabriel nodded, shaking the image from his head in the process. “Yeah, I’m good, just…shaking the cobwebs off, I guess.”

Monica grinned mischievously and rotated her hips sharply. This not only moved her pussy around Gabe’s cock but momentarily tightened her grip. The rolling back of Gabe’s eyes told Monica she had hit home.

“Be gone, cobwebs,” Monica said, gripping Gabe’s shoulders and leaning forward. “Me and this dick are about to work.”

Monica arched her back slightly and tilted her hips, angling Gabe’s cock into prime fucking position. She began raising and lowering her hips slowly, acclimating both of them to the motion, before speeding up her rhythm and driving Gabe’s cock hard and fast into her. Before long, Monica was drilling herself with Gabriel’s slippery dick, his every vein and curve sending delicious waves of ecstasy throughout her pussy on every hard and fast stroke.

“Fuck yesssss,” Monica said, bouncing back and forth against the cock she had been craving. “This is why you’re the best roommate ever! Fuh-huh-huuckkk!”

“You like that, baby girl?” Gabe said through clenched teeth, breathing through his nose while his hands kept Monica’s rocking body balanced above him.

Monica felt a steady pulsing building within her. How much of that was her or Gabe, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that it felt good. So good…

“Are you…*hnh!*…are you close?” she managed to gasp out.

Gabe nodded, amazed at himself after what Asma had done to him just hours ago. “Yeah,” he groaned, feeling his balls tighten. “Yeah, I’m close.”

“Okay,” Monica said, biting her lip and reaching up to clench one of her round, medium-sized tits like a stress ball. “Hold on just a few…seconds. Hold…just a…”

Gabe’s cock slid against something a little too good inside of her.

“…second…haaaah…hhnnaaanhh!!!”

Monica came hard, harder than she had in a long time. The tightening waves of her orgasm around Gabe’s cock did the trick for him, too, pulling his cum in bursts deep inside of her. Monica slowed her rocking motion down so both of them could enjoy this, riding the waves of bliss rolling through them both. She could feel the tension in her body completely dissolving, giving way to the pure, carnal joy this man gave her.

The thought of something more growing between them struck Monica for a moment, and not for the first time. It had been a silent, gnawing thing between the two of them ever since the third or fourth time they had done this (and this was around time number eight, if Monica was doing her math right). But every time she started to seriously consider something more than a respectful fuck-buddy understanding between them, she would remember just how distant and lost in his own thoughts Gabe could be. It was so difficult to tell what was going through the man’s head when he got that glassy, mystified look in his eye.

Like the look he had right now.

“Earth to Gabe,” Monica said, tapping his cheek.

“Hey,” he said, snapping out of it. “Sorry, I just…”

Monica smirked. “Don’t worry, I get it. I woke you up and I’m sure you’ve got something like fifteen cases ongoing on right now.”

“Yeah,” Gabe said as Monica swung her leg over him and dismounted. “Yeah, something like that.”

Monica blew out another breath and raised her arms, stretching her taut little body with glee. “I’m all worked up now. And to think I just showered…”

The violent buzzing of Gabe’s phone began anew. Monica scowled and turned her head to look. “Somebody’s trying real hard to get ahold of you, Agent. That thing was blasting off when I walked in here.”

Gabe frowned and sat up in the bed, reaching for the phone. One look at the screen and he knew something was wrong. Fifteen missed calls in a half-hour, all of them from the same number.

The same one calling now.

“Shit,” Gabe muttered as he hit the green ‘accept’ button. “Yeah, this is Lima,” he said into the phone.”

Monica recoiled a bit as she heard the cry of “WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!” blast from the phone as if it had been on speaker. Gabe held the phone away from his ear and blinked before bringing it back.

“Jesus, I’m sorry! I was sleeping! It’s five in the morning, what -“

Gabe stopped talking as the voice on the other end muttered garbled information like an unseen adult in a Peanuts special. Gabe’s eyes first narrowed, then widened, then slacked as he put a hand to his face, rubbing his temples.

“Christ. Okay, we have anyone at the hospital?”

pause

“I’m telling you, that’s not good enough. We need at least four more agents on her floor and some NYPD watching the street. There’s no telling how many assholes might come at her right now while she’s vulnerable. Let me get dressed and I’ll be right there.”

Monica frowned as Gabe disconnected the call and rose quickly from the bed, gunning for his clothes. “Who’s in the hospital?”

“A source,” Gabe said. “A very valuable source.”

“Is she okay?”

“Seems to be,” Gabe replied, securing his pants at the waist. “Listen, I’m sorry to run out on you like this…”

“It’s cool,” Monica said, waving a hand. “You gave me what I needed, if it’s any consolation.”

Gabe chuckled. “It is. It definitely is.”

He threw on the rest of his clothes while Monica watched and kissed her on the cheek before leaving the room. She shook her head and looked at the ceiling.

“A valuable source,” she repeated to herself. “She’s a source of something, I’ll bet.”

             *

Asma could feel the scrape of Cassandra’s fingers against the skin of her collarbone. The broken glass of the Escalade’s windows hadn’t finished falling to the ground, and this blonde slut was already clawing at her, working desperately to steal back something that had never truly been hers to begin with. But this was what resulted of not dealing with a problem properly, Asma realized. She had had every opportunity to rid herself of Cassandra in a far more final fashion; instead, she had let sentiment get the best of her.

“That’s the problem, huh?” Gabriel said. “That you were too easy on the woman you screwed over?”

Asma blinked. The interior of the flipped and twisted Escalade was hazy, like she was trying to see it through a dense fog. The upside-down streetlights outside cast bent halos of light through the jagged glass teeth of the busted-out windows. She turned her head a bit to her left, ignoring for the moment the strange vertigo of hanging upside down by her seatbelt. In the driver’s side passenger seat beside her, Agent Lima sat, himself hanging from his seat belt. Aside from that, he looked perfectly unharmed.

He wasn’t there, a strange voice said in the back of her head. He’s still not here.

“Just a thought,” Lima continued, “maybe sentiment’s not your problem. Maybe screwing over those who’ve helped you is always going to bring karma knocking.”

“How…” Asma muttered, blinking again to try and clear her head. “How do I…”

“Work with me,” Lima said earnestly, his unbridled honesty shining in his eyes. “Let me help you make things right.”

“Oh, sure,” another voice said in thick Arabic. This voice was old and scratchy from years of tobacco abuse and yet still somehow feminine. It was the voice of Asma’s grandmother.

“Jidda…?” Asma said, narrowing her eyes at the seat in front of her.

Grandmother appeared as if out of a mist, turning from the front passenger seat to face Asma. Her perfect head of dark hair - still naturally black even in her seventies - was held tight to her head by the expertly coiled bun she always made at the base of her neck. Her arched eyebrows spoke volumes of her opinion of Asma’s strategies of late, her dark and wise eyes tinted yellow by the substances she had so loved in her long and storied life. As far as Asma could tell, Jidda wasn’t secured by any seat belt. Then again, Cassandra’s claws on Asma’s skin had slowed to a near halt, so clearly time and physics had little meaning here.

“Trust in the federal agent,” Asma’s grandmother continued in her native tongue, “and you will paying for your crimes for the rest of eternity. We are Balil. We don’t shy from the sins of our bloodline, we embrace them. We give our enemies cause to fear us. How have you failed to make this American woman fear you that she can be so bold now?”

“She…she was my friend,” Asma said, her emotions twisting her mind in a million directions. “She got too close, I -“

“You let her too close!” Jidda snapped. “You were too lost in loneliness, too desperate for affection to see the threat this woman presented until it was too late. She has seen the weakness behind your strength. The family chain would have brought you all the affection you needed, and now you’ve lost it.”

“Sex with unwitting partners isn’t affection,” Lima said. “You may as well have drugged them. They don’t know what they’re doing, and I would know.”

Jidda chuckled. “You know better than that, don’t you little one? You remember your initiation…the rush of the chain overtaking you, the lust that had always been there, fully awakened and in control…did you not know what you were doing?”

Asma did remember. She could never be sure if Mohammed, as young and impressionable at the time as herself, had any real idea what was going on. But even now, in this strange dreamscape of the overturned Escalade, the thought of the night she had given her virginity to know firsthand the power of the family chain generated a moist, pleasant ache between her thighs.

“Don’t listen, Asma,” Gabriel insisted. “Work with me. We can use this to fix things, make it an opportunity.”

“It pains me to say I agree with him there,” Jidda said with a sigh. “This is an opportunity…a challenge. Let us see how you do without the sword and shield you’ve inherited and become so reliant upon. Let us see if you are strong enough…”

Asma blinked as the echo of Jidda’s voice was replaced by a soft, rhythmic beeping and a glaring, distant light began to dissolve the darkness of the street and her overturned vehicle. Another blink and the real world began to come into focus, her hospital room sharpening around her as she fully awoke. A figure began to move and come into focus beside her bed and it was still a few minutes before Asma could be sure the figure was Dr. Miller.

“Hello there,” Dr. Miller said as cheerfully as she was capable. “You got knocked out pretty good there, huh?”

“Dr. Miller,” Asma said, moving her jaw to get her lips moving the way she meant them to. “How long…?”

“About six hours,” Dr. Miller said, tapping one of the many monitors with her pen before jotting more notes onto a chart. “You’ve had a minor concussion and your blood pressure is a little higher than I’d like. Aside from that and a few scrapes, you’re fine. You just needed to rest.”

Asma absently ran her fingers over her collarbone, knowing full well the chain was gone. “Tomas? Is he okay?”

“He’s down the hall,” Dr. Miller said. “His concussion was a bit more severe than yours, but he’ll recover fine. Your people have been all over the wing and I imagine authorities will want to ask you questions about the accident but there’ll be time for all of that later. Right now, you need to relax.”

“I need to get out of here,” Asma said, rising up to swing her legs out of the bed. “I need to find the woman who -“

“Ah ah AH!” Dr. Miller snapped, gesturing with one bony hand for Asma to put her legs back where they were. “You won’t stay a full day like you should, I know. The least you can do is rest until daylight. I don’t want you collapsing on your way out the door. Besides, I gather your people are working overtime to find the wild woman who did this to you, so you’ll get whatever information you need soon enough. Now, relax.”

Asma sighed. Though sleep was the last thing she wanted right now, her body was exhausted. And powerful as she was these days, she knew better than to argue with the woman who had treated the family - up to and including their major enforcers - for decades. Even with the chain, Dr. Miller was too focused and beyond any lustful hooks for its power to work on her.

“Fine,” Asma said, pulling the cheap hospital covers back up. “In that case, give me just a little privacy so I can actually fall asleep.”

“Look at you, listening like a good girl,” Dr. Miller said in the condescending tone she knew only she could get away with. She jotted a final note on her clipboard and gave Asma a tight smile. “I’ll see that you’re not disturbed.”

The doctor left the room, closing the door with a soft click behind her. Asma sighed again and laid back into the papery, crunchy pillow and shut her eyes, trying to clear her head and failing miserably. All she could think about was losing the chain, her mind lost in theories of what Cassie would use it for and what side effects the chain’s loss might create in the meantime. It was likely only a matter of time before someone realized they had been following Asma’s orders against their will. She would lose the loyalty of her people.

She might even lose Gabriel.

That last point struck Asma harder than anything else. As much as she had tried to deny the fact to herself, she had grown very fond of Agent Lima, far more than just an enjoyment of his body and the rush of fucking an enemy. He had a kindness to him, a vulnerability and sense of honor Asma usually disdained in anyone else. It reminded her pleasantly of her father, despite her father’s many failings.

Dwelling on Gabriel soothed Asma enough that real sleep began to finally claim her. She saw his face gazing back at her, her mind traveling back to their first meeting. Gabriel had set the meet at a hotel room in Newark to keep Asma away from the usual prying eyes without raising too many eyebrows. For Newark, the accommodations weren’t bad - a small, recently refurbished Hyatt away from any businesses, legal or otherwise, that had any interest in Asma’s operations - and Agent Lima had even had the courtesy to put the room in the name of a friend of the family in order to avoid suspicion.

So it was that Asma walked into the Hyatt and took the elevator up to the third floor. She wore a knee-length black cocktail dress with a generous cleavage-teasing v-cut beneath a cream-colored denim jacket, her bangs pulled back in a partial ponytail with her sunglasses perched above her forehead. She looked for all the world like some local’s wealthy spoiled cousin who decided to stay at a hotel rather than slum it at the family house for spring break. All arrogance aside, Asma knew no amount of drab clothing or lack of makeup would hide her striking (and in this country: exotic) features enough for no one to notice her; hence, she created a character that no one would think twice about while ogling her dress and checking out her ass as she got onto the elevator.

Asma went over in her mind how she planned to run this particular part of the plan as she approached the hotel room door. She had fucked up by moving so quickly on Cassie’s father at the time, she realized that now. While the transition itself had been smooth, she had completely failed to realize how this had drawn her into the RICO case being built against several of the organizations in Manhattan. The good news was: Agent Gabriel Lima had sounded young, straight and easily thrown by the right set of curvy legs, giving Asma total confidence that her chain (and, if need be, her pussy) would protect her from any damage that Lima could do.

But when Agent Lima opened the door at Asma’s knocking, she had to mentally compose herself. She knew from her communication with Lima over the phone that he was professional and sharp-minded, which she respected. She also knew he was a fit and handsome man; she never would have shown up for this meeting without first doing her own digging, to the point she now knew all his credentials by heart and had seen how handsome he was in a handful of pictures. But standing inches away from him was a whole other experience and she hadn’t been prepared for him to be so gorgeous on top of his self-sure presence. He wore his federal agent attire well, the sleeves of his white shirt unbuttoned and rolled halfway up his toned and vein-laden forearms, his tie loosened where he had undone the top button of his collar. The look in Lima’s eyes told her that, despite his having researched Asma as well, he was mutually unprepared for dealing with her live.

“Ms. Balil,” Gabriel said, struggling not to gulp, “thank you for showing up. Please, come inside.”

There’s a thought, Asma mused to herself as she smiled and walked through the door.

Agent Lima had pulled the standard hotel side table away from the wall and arranged two chairs side-by-side. An open MacBook sat on the tabletop along with a scattering of manilla folders, documents, and Xeroxed photos. A glance at the photos told Asma they were of crime figures she either had met at one time or knew well, but she had no plans to give that information up so easily, not even for this unexpected Adonis. He was still law, and Asma had had quite enough of them.

“Go ahead and take a seat,” Gabriel said, gesturing toward the right chair as he sat down in the left. “I won’t waste your time. I’ve spoken to my superiors and the other federal agents involved in the case and they’re willing to entertain certain levels of immunity if you can prove able to provide substantial material for us to use.”

“Entertain certain levels,” Asma repeated with a raised eyebrow as she took her seat. “That sounds vague and not just a little dismissive, Agent Lima. Not to mention, that’s not what we discussed on the phone.”

Gabriel sighed, leaning an elbow on the table with the fingers of both hands interlaced. “Ms. Balil -“

I can’t fuck him right here right now, Asma reminded herself. Self-control. Tomas can take care of those needs later. This is more than business, this is survival.

That said…

“Call me Asma, please,” Asma said with a genuine smile. “Ms. Balil reminds me too much of my grandmother.”

Lima hesitated. Asma could see the wheels turning in his head. If he was half as smart as Asma thought he was, he knew how tight and formal a ship Asma ran in the organization. No one but a few select enforcers called her by her first name, and even then only in private.

“Alright then, Asma,” Lima said. “I promise I’m not patronizing you when I say you’re no stranger to negotiation. You know this is how it works. I can’t even begin to get my superiors to listen to more than five words from me about immunity for you until I can prove you’re a worthwhile source.”

“Agent Lima -“

“Gabriel,” Lima said, a smile flickering across his lips. “Or Gabe. Either is fine.”

Asma felt herself blush. She couldn’t remember the last time she had blushed, it must have been around the time Mohammed had been lent the family chain to make her a woman in so many ways. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had cut off her sentence, either; her demeanor alone hadn’t given anyone room to think they could do so without risking bodily harm.

But this man…

“Fine, Gabriel,” Asma said, enjoying the sound of his name on her tongue. “My status should be enough to prove I have plenty of inside knowledge your superiors would find valuable.”

“Knowledge, certainly,” Gabriel said. “How willing you are to play ball is something else. The agents I’m working with have some experience with protected informants stringing them along, and neither they nor I are interested in going through the same thing with you.”

Asma held a hand to her chest (shifting the v-cut of her dress just a bit; unintentionally, of course) in mock indignation. She added a smile for comedic flourish. “And do you think I’m going to string you along, Gabriel?”

Lima cleared his throat and tried hard not to glance at Asma’s cleavage.

He failed.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Why don’t we go over some of the intel I have here and find out? If you can give me something even a little bit useful, then I have a case to make on your behalf. That should be a decent start.”

Asma held Gabriel’s gaze for a moment and then gave a quick nod. “Lead the way, Gabriel. I’ll follow.”

Lima smiled again and grabbed the first photo from the top of the pile. Asma had guessed correctly that was where Gabriel would start.

“Let’s start with a rhetorical question. Recognize this guy?”

Asma nodded. “Franco Cassetti. He just ascended to the top seat of drug dealing in Manhattan. We recently forged a deal with him to smuggle his product through our docks.”

Lima nodded and jotted down a note in the legal pad he had placed beside the MacBook. Asma watched him flip through a few papers when she noticed something. More like the absence of something.

“Gabriel, are you not recording this?” Asma asked. “Seems a bit strange given we have no working trust yet.”

Gabe chuckled. “Give us time.”

Asma blushed again and made to scratch her nose to cover it. What is he doing to me?

“No, I’m not recording this,” Gabe said. “One, I have no idea yet where to take your intel, so it’s not entirely necessary at this point. Two, as you say, we have yet to build trust. I don’t put you on the spot, maybe you get more comfortable with me, and the trust-building begins.”

Without thinking, Asma’s hand went to Gabriel’s knee and squeezed.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little…nervous about all this.”

Asma felt a gentle flare of warmth from her chain and a similar flare warmed her fingers where she touched Lima’s knee. His eyelids dropped for a moment and the breath went out of him. Asma jerked her hand back and watched with trepidation. She hadn’t intended to use the chain on him -

Not yet, anyway…

-   and she had never unintentionally done so before. As far as Asma knew before this, that wasn’t possible. But she had felt the chain’s power react to her -

Lust? Or affection…?

-   on pure instinct. Now Lima was in its thrall. If Asma waited a few more moments, the effect would leave him and he would have no idea anything had even happened. No harm done.

And yet, a thought occurred to Asma. A thought she really should have ignored at this early, crucial juncture. It never did well to lose one’s self in emotion, or even worse, desire. Timing was everything. Tact was everything.

But I want him.

“Agent Lima,” Asma said slowly, her chain warming at her neck on fully-intentional power now, “do you find me attractive?”

“Y-yes,” Lima grunted out as he pulled at his tie. “Yes, I do.”

Asma flexed her fingers on Lima’s knee and used her other hand to trace the exposed inner curve of her breast, watching Gabriel’s face the entire way. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“Um…you did. At first. But…”

Asma glanced at Gabe’s slacks. The stretch of cloth between his thighs had gone taut with a rising shape within.

“But…?”

Gabriel swallowed. “But…not so much…now.”

One side of Asma’s lips turned up as she used the breast-tracing hand to slowly part the cloth further. “Gabriel, I want you to look at me.”

It hadn’t been a command through the chain at all. But Gabriel followed it. His head turned slowly until he was gazing first at Asma’s chest, then directly into her eyes.

“Gabriel,” she said, arching her back a little so the denim jacket would open further. Her dress drew tighter at her chest, putting the swell of her tits center stage. “Would you like to touch me?”

Gabriel nodded again. “Yes, I…I would, but I…”

Asma was impressed. She had never seen anyone - much less a straight man, already naturally attracted to her - put up a fight like this. His breaths came in ragged gasps and his hands clenched and unclenched on the table. He had no idea what was happening to him, but he was fighting it. And fighting it well.

“Asma, did you…did you drug me or some -“

“Touch Me, Gabriel,” Asma said as she felt her pussy go slick with fresh wetness. “Touch Me Now.”

Almost as if he had been waiting for those exact words, Lima’s clenching hands left the table and dove into the v-cut of Asma’s dress. Asma felt her own breath catch as his hands - those strong, long-fingered hands - cupped her breasts lovingly for a moment before driving further in to her shoulders and flexing outward. The denim jacket and the spaghetti straps of Asma’s dress both came off her shoulders in one swift movement, bringing her naked tits bouncing out to greet the hotel air.

Asma couldn’t remember why she had chosen not to wear a bra; tactically, a bra with a little push would have made sense for this meeting. More pronounced cleavage would have only distracted Lima more and given Asma more of an advantage. But now, panting with need as she looked down to watch Gabriel’s thumbs work her pert, quarter-sized nipples, she was infinitely glad she had left the lingerie at home.

And speaking of…

Tilting her head back and closing her eyes, Asma slowly opened her legs, feeling the hem of her skirt rising up her thighs. There was a shifting sound where Asma couldn’t see and suddenly the point of Gabe’s tongue was exploring the moist folds of her pussy. She gasped and whimpered as his tongue worked in time with his thumbs on her nipples, driving her quickly into a lustful frenzy. Asma’s hands found the sides of Gabriel’s head, her fingers sliding over the textured surface of his short haircut. She felt his lips brush her clit, his fingers pinch her left nipple, his other hand grasping her right breast like dough to be kneaded. Her hands flinched on her lover’s head as she cried out and came the hardest and fastest she ever had in her life, the roiling waves of orgasm spiking through her body as Gabriel’s mouth refused to slow its work.

He continued kissing and licking and rubbing his lips against her clit until he thought she would pass out. It only briefly registered in her mind that she hadn’t commanded him to go this far, that she couldn’t be sure where her control ended and Gabriel’s own desires began.

At last, Gabe detached his mouth from Asma’s sopping mess of a pussy, his lips and chin glistening with the liquid debris of Asma’s orgasm. She looked down at him, her hands still clutching his head, lost in the haze and slight dizziness of what he had done to her. It was a moment before she noticed his eyes sharpening and looking around him in growing panic.

“Wait,” he said, his eyes finding his hands clamped firmly on Asma’s exposed breasts. “What happened? What did I…?”

“Stand Up, Gabriel.”

Lima stopped his panic as his eyes glazed over once more. He released Asma’s tits and rose to his feet, ready for the next command.

Asma lowered her own feet to the floor and paused, struggling to get her thoughts straight. Something like guilt (a rarely-felt sensation for her) coursed through her mind. She had used her power on many men since taking command of the organization, law enforcement included. She had ordered people killed with cold-blooded decisiveness, sometimes even done the deed herself when she felt it necessary. And yet, there was something about ordering this man into sex with her that felt vaguely wrong.

But it also felt right. Very right.

“Gabriel,” she said, practically purring the name as she drew circles on her exposed clit with her fingers, “when I first walked in here, what did you want to do to me?”

“I…” he stammered.

Asma looked at him with amazement as she finished sliding the denim jacket and the straps of her dress from her shoulders, letting the black fabric gather around her hips. She couldn’t believe he was still fighting her power.

But he has kept eating her without her command…

“I wanted to…” Gabe continued, pausing to clear his throat, “I wanted to fuck you. From…from behind.”

Asma couldn’t help a little schoolgirl giggle before biting her lip and grabbing her breasts. She liked Gabe’s thinking very much and her pussy throbbed with anticipation.

“Where?”

“At the...gulp...at the window,” Gabriel said, pointing at the narrow rectangle of exposed glass between the parted curtains.

Asma’s eyebrows went up and she grinned. She would have bet money he would say he wanted to bend her over the table. But the window, the voyeuristic thrill of exposure before the parking lot below…

“Alright,” Asma said as she stood and walked toward the window. She took her time tossing her hair around her neck to fall over her right shoulder before placing her hands on the glass and bending over. She arched her back and raised her naked ass into the air toward Gabriel, inviting him in with a gentle shake of her hips. “Come get me, then.”

Gabriel twitched a moment as if he were considering what to do. Asma wondered what strength or talent allowed him to resist this much, especially when some part of him clearly wanted this. Wanted her.

Desire won out. Gabriel strode toward his prey at the window, his fingers blurring as he undid his belt and pants, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his falling slacks without ever losing pace. Within moments, his hands were on Asma’s lush hips and she could feel his precum-dripping cock rubbing against her inner thighs as he took aim.

“Why, Agent Lima!” Asma said with another giggle, “you’re so -“

The sensation of Gabriel’s rock-hard member sliding rapidly home inside her drove the breath straight out of her lungs. The force of that first delicious thrust within her still-orgasm-sensitive pussy was enough to push Asma towards the windows, her left cheek and both her tits mashing against the glass. If anyone were to look up at their window right now…

“Gabriel,” Asma managed to gasp out, “you’ll have to -“

But her new lawman lover wasn’t hearing her. Asma quickly realized she had unleashed an animal she hadn’t been quite prepared for. Gabriel grasped a handful of her hip flesh with one hand and gripped the back of her neck with the other as he began agonizingly slow strokes in and out of her. Asma could feel every vein and muscle in his shaft swelling and pulsing as he built up his own release, both of their breaths coming in short, ragged gasps with every thrust.

Asma put her palms on the glass on either side of her head and made to shift herself off the window, but Gabriel’s strong hand on her neck kept her firmly in place as he continued to rhythmically fuck her. The cool glass felt pleasant against her hot, mashed breasts. Her breath fogged across the window surface where her open, panting lips paralleled it. Her head went light as the rhythm of Gabriel’s perfect shaft sliding in and out of her began to build another full-bodied orgasm.

“Don’t stop, Gabriel,” Asma said in a rush, reaching her right hand back to grasp her lover’s where he gripped the side of her ass. “Don’t stop. I want your cum inside me.”

“I…I…”

Asma was amazed. Even as he fucked her senseless, something in him fought back still. Somewhere deep in his trained, intelligent mind he was worried about getting her pregnant.

“I’m on birth control, Gabe,” she said before his driving cock stole her breath again. “Don’t stop. Keep Fucking Me!”

Gabriel’s hand went from the back of Asma’s neck to her hair, grabbing a fistful of dark chocolate waves and pulling her head as far back as it could go. Asma’s breathing became even more strained and her spine arched further in response, pushing her ass higher to meet Gabriel’s pelvis as he pistoned in and out of her pussy.

Asma found herself staring at the ceiling through watery eyes as her sensitive sex took Agent Lima’s pounding. She couldn’t even see down to the parking lot anymore, couldn’t see if anyone was out there and looking in their direction. She was queen of one of the most powerful criminal houses in New York, and here she was, naked and exposed at a hotel window where anyone who dared look up could see her, raw and messy and getting fucked into oblivion by a federal agent…

The tremors of the incoming orgasm roiling inside her lower core was almost too much to take. But Asma held back as well as she could, which wasn’t easy with that deliciously steel-hard rod filling her harder and faster. Soon the pounding was a rapid, jack-hammering force, Lima’s cock blurring in and out of Asma’s slick, tight pussy with full abandon. Gabriel’s grip on Asma’s flesh tightened and his cock swelled and pulsed within her as his breath became first a ragged grunt and then an increasingly loud growl of need.

Asma was moaning and mewling like an animal on the verge of madness. She was at the very threshold of orgasm. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“Do it, Gabriel, please!” she moaned. “Cum in me!”

The command broke whatever resistance Gabriel had left. Asma later wondered just how long it had been since Agent Lima had last fucked anyone; the first firehose blast of cum that gushed inside her dripped immediately from her quivering pussy lips and it didn’t stop there. Gabriel was outright roaring now, his head thrown back as he released Asma’s hair and grasped both sides of Asma’s hips in a caveman grip that left handprints on Asma’s ass for days.

He kept fucking Asma’s criminal pussy, torrent after torrent of thick, hot cum pulsing out of him to fill what space was left within her. It was on the second or third pulse of Gabriel’s cum (Asma was too delirious at the time to be completely sure) when her orgasm hit her, the pulsing and quaking of their nearly perfectly timed cumming urging each other on to continue the lewd, delicious interplay as long as they could. Finally, Gabriel’s pace slowed as his cum reduced to a trickle and the waves of body-shaking spasms ceased in Asma’s pelvis. Both of them were panting, sweating, dripping bodily fluids from their interconnected genitalia.

Asma blinked hard and took a deep breath from the nose, fighting to regain some measure of her composure. Yes, she had used the chain’s power to reassert control where it was necessary, but…

What the hell had just happened, she wondered? Asma had lost count of the men - business partners, politicians, even her own enforcers - that she had used the chain upon for her own business ends and, yes, often the added bonus of fucking men she usually found attractive. Not all of them were, but most. She certainly had a bit of a nympho-cum slut streak she had long ago made her peace with, and part of that peace had been channeling her carnal urges into productive business command. The chain’s power, properly utilized,  achieved near total mind control on the focused target, though such easy and long-term command of it required a high degree of focus and not just a little natural talent. Asma’s grandmother had theorized that this was why cementing the chain’s command over others via sex was so potent and concrete; such a primal act took the involved parties to a base and vulnerable psychological space, one the chain’s power exploited easily to give the commander a firm, lasting grip on their subject.

Gabriel was different, a strange paradox of a subject Asma had never before encountered. Ignoring her own sudden and frightening attraction to the man, he clearly felt something similar for her - he never would have reacted to her urging as strongly as he did otherwise - and yet, there had been a continually recurring struggle on his part, a clear battle he fought internally against Asma’s control. Why? How?

Asma peered down through the window. The parking lot below was thankfully empty, save for a few cars. The fog upon the glass generated by Asma’s breath and body heat had misted over and now dripped in tiny rivulets down the transparent surface. Gabriel’s reflection stared back at her with a mix of satisfied lust and growing horror at his loss of self-control.

“Easy, Agent Lima,” Asma said in as soothing a tone as she could muster with her breath settling into a steady pace again. “You’re mine, now. All mine.”

“I…I still need…information,” Gabriel said with choking breaths.

“And you’ll get it,” Asma said with a smirk as she squeezed her inner thighs and felt a rush of sexy pride as Lima’s eyes closed and his breath escaped him again. She gave a slow wiggle of her ass, enjoying the sensation of his half-hard cock moving around inside her still. “You’ll get what I’m ready to give when I’m ready to give it, and you’ll continue to make me happy. You do like making me happy, don’t you, Agent Lima?”

“Y-yes,” Gabriel said, involuntarily pushing himself slowly inside Asma again. “Yes, I do.”

“Alright then,” Jidda said. “He’ll do.”

Asma’s eyes shot open before she looked to her left. Her grandmother stood beside the window, her arms folded, her eyes locked on Lima. Asma realized Gabriel wasn’t even breathing anymore. The whole world, time itself, seemed to have paused.

“As will always happen to the proud,” Jidda continued, “the one thing you did not prepare for was losing your most valued asset. Soon, those loyal to you will realize they followed you against their own will, and they will come for you. But this one…”

Grandmother walked toward Lima, behind Asma where she couldn’t quite turn herself to see; Gabriel’s time-frozen cock was still inside her, his hands still holding her in place against the window.

“He has an…authenticity to him that is rare,” Jidda said with a hint of admiration. “If you play him right, you will earn his loyalty. His true loyalty, not this sex and magic fueled cheat you’ve become so spoiled upon.”

Asma seethed with anger. “You gave me that cheat! You and father taught me how to use it!”

“Use it, yes,” grandmother said, sneering. “Become totally reliant upon it, no. That was your father’s mistake, and you certainly don’t want to die the way he did. We taught you other things, too. Use them.”

***

Back in the hospital, in the stark reality outside Asma’s dreams and memories, she lay in her bed murmuring “use them.” These words were completely lost on Tomas as he locked the hospital room door behind him. All he knew was that Asma would die for her manipulations, right here, right now.

The large man’s hands balled into clenched fists as he advanced upon Asma’s bed. He had half a mind to take advantage of her in her sleep before killing her; it would serve her right. It wasn’t far from what she had done to him, despite how badly he may have secretly imagined her naked and riding him in his most private moments. It didn’t matter. His will had been stolen from him.

With a sigh, Tomas drove the thought from his mind. He was no rapist and he wouldn’t give this woman the satisfaction of making him any more into something he wasn’t.

He would kill her, though. That much he would certainly do.

Asma stirred as both her grandmother and Gabriel faded from her mind. She opened her eyes just as Tomas’s hands closed around her throat.

To be continued…