Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Counting the Seconds ❯ Chapter Four ( Chapter 4 )

From the Desk of Scilja

Warning! This chapter contains a lot of sexual innuendos! <flashes red light> Rated R, perhaps? The action is finally here!

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DISCLAIMER: You know the drill. I'm tired of saying it.

As You Like It

By Scilja

Chapter 4

Cupboards, cabinets, and drawers were opened in haste as Midii flitted across the large kitchen. She needed something rich and creamy, and she needed it fast. There was a very good-looking man currently sitting in the dining room ― a victim of her ingenious ploy.

Opening the refrigerator, she poked her head in and scanned the numerous shelves of food. She bent down to push aside some jars, hoping she would find it. Her exposed flesh was getting chilly from the frigid air; she knew she had to work faster. After several bottles out-of-the-way, she cried out in triumph and grabbed the container. Taking out a butter knife, she added the spread to the toast, seeing to it that she made more than enough layers.

Trowa propped an elbow on the armrest and tapped against the glass table's surface idly, wondering what upheld Midii. He knew something was going on ever since they were presented by the so-called contract, but he decided to play along with the charade to fulfill his curiosity. A light weight prodded against his chest. He glanced down to see the silver, glistening cross that hung from his neck. With a faint smile, he fiddled with it, remembering how they had met. Her, a spy, scrutinizing his every move while he was only a nameless soldier. Ironic that the cross that once acted as a transmitter to track him now represented a symbol of love between them. It had been such a long way since then. His thoughts were interrupted when a certain female entered the room holding a platter.

Her hips swayed lightly as she walked to him and he immediately felt the temperature rise. She rounded the table, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek before setting down the plate before him. "Bon appetite, Trowa."

He looked at the sandwich warily, particularly the strawberry jam that was packed in between. The spread had to be half an inch thick and was close to spilling over. He had encountered Midii's cooking before but this was odd to him.

He stole a quick glance at her. Upon seeing her hopeful expression, he shrugged inwardly and took a dive for it.

He held the sandwich at an angle so the jam wouldn't trickle down on him but on the plate instead. Midii watched happily as Trowa ate her sandwich, silently waiting for the right moment to happen…

Splink.

The bite Trowa made squeezed the slices of bread together, causing the jelly to seep out and plop unto the glass platter. Not wanting to make anymore of a mess, Trowa finished his piece then turned to Midii to question her about the thick amount of jam she gave him. His question died in his throat when he saw what seemed to be a forlorn look on her face. Her posture had gone tense as she pressed her lips together firmly. Her eyes were fixed dejectedly; he followed her gaze and came upon the red spot on his dish. Was she pitying the jelly?

"Midii?"

As if on signal, her expression changed and she beamed at him, shaking her head, "Tsk, Trowa, I hate to waste food."

He gave an inquisitive look at first, not quite comprehending what she meant. He was then taken back when two fingers swooped down and scooped the jam off his plate in one, swift motion. He stared at the red jam that now covered both her index and middle finger. 'Don't tell me she's going to…'

Midii glanced up at him to make sure he was paying close attention. With a playful smile on her lips, her tongue darted out and started to lick the sweet substance off her fingers.

He watched helplessly as she bathed her tongue over her fingers. His breath caught in his throat while his heartbeat thundered against his chest. He was teetering near the edge of his sanity as he saw her dainty tongue swirl, lick, suck, and flick. He held his ground by gripping both armrests firmly; otherwise, he would've bolted right out of his seat and ravished the taste of jam from her mouth. With her eyes slightly hooded as she continued to put him in sheer agony, soft moans of sheer delight escaped her lips. Her fingers were slick from the wetness of her tongue as she continued to stroke up and down.

In the lower part of his body, heat ripped through his male lust. His mind screamed out loud, and all that was holding him back was a stupid piece of paper.

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Swords clashed together in the air again and again as two figures battled with evident skill and expertise. Steel slashed against steel with grit and intensity as feet moved rhythmically to the fight. They parried, dodged, struck, and swung.

Having forgone the heels, Sally was doing well despite her state of dress. Wufei grunted as he dodged her strike. She bent to do a forward thrust, but her action was intercepted by his katana. She grinned up at the man before doing a side spin to attack from behind. Wufei was fast enough to catch up with her plan and he rapidly turned to cut her off.

The abrupt swing of his sword caught Sally by surprise. As quick as a heartbeat, the tip of his katana came extremely close to her neck. With her own sword still clutched in her hands, she knew it was over. She peered down the length of the weapon that trapped her to the dark eyes of its victor. Their labored breathing echoed into the training room.

"Not bad," Wufei said, smirking, "especially for a bunny."

Her chest heaved with puffs of breath, and Wufei found himself staring at the rise and fall of it. Desire took hold of him as his gaze traveled downward and back up again. It made sense why women weren't allowed to wear low-cut attires in battle; it was too distracting. He gritted his teeth. It was bad enough she wore that kind of outfit in this spar. Every time she did a turn that damn ribbon of hers would flutter against her legs, enticing him to teeter over the edge. The clutch on his katana tightened as he recalled each time she performed a strike or parry, her chest would…Argh!

Sally did not waver from his gaze, her eyes narrowed, "Do not mock the bunny."

He pushed away his thoughts, "And why not?"

She loosened the grip on her sword and allowed it to drop to the floor. Fearlessly, her raised her hands and grabbed both sides of the katana, carefully handling it so she didn't get cut from the sharp blade. She tugged against it, and not wanting her harmed, Wufei relaxed his hold on the weapon. The slackened state of his hold gave Sally the chance to draw the blade back towards him, and at the same time, she stepped closer.

Wufei now had his hand below his waist with his katana pointing upwards to the ceiling. Sally stood right in front of the sword's edge. Keeping her palms still on the weapon, she languidly dragged the katana down her body. The blade traveled languorously over her every curve, each movement matching the sound of Wufei's own unsteady breaths. She took her sweet time, dragging him along with her to the edge of enticement. Sally watched proudly as his eyes narrowed when she intentionally swerved off the sword's path ever so slightly beneath her breasts.

The play that went on in his dark pools was remarkable, flickering intensely with emotions and suppressed craving. She couldn't believe the hold she could have on him. Wisps of his hair had fallen from his tie, it had given him a carefree and yet mystifying frame around his face. In all the years of mental training, he certainly wasn't prepared for what was going through right now. It was unbelievable what a woman could do to him, one in particular.

His hands trembled a bit from the deadly path the katana went through. He was tempted to cut open her bodice when the blade rested on the edge of the costume. The fabric was practically screaming for him to shred it into pieces. As soon as she brought the sword right below her chest, the grip on his sword tightened.

She traced the arc of her chest with the weapon, caressing the blade now and then. His palms started to become moist and the hold on his sword was starting to loosen. It was getting more difficult to maintain his focus. He did not take his eyes off the weapon while it continued down her body.

Wufei had been so lost in his world that he became stunned when he felt his shirt gape open. Standing still, he saw the shine of a sword glimmer in Sally's hand held at a low angle. He looked down at the shirt buttons scattered on the floor and back to his partner's face, where a devious grin slowly formed.

She winked, a smug look shining in her amber eyes, "Because I'm no ordinary bunny."

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"What a marvelous instrument," Dorothy stated admiringly at the violin she held. Indeed, it was a magnificent piece of work shone proudly from the finest materials around. And when a marvelous instrument was played by the hands of a master, it was enough to leave you melting on the floor.

She took a few graceful steps toward him, placing the instrument in his hands. "I've always been in awe of your music, Quatre," she casually ran a slender finger along the strings, "it's as if it pierced through your very soul," he shivered when her rituals went to his hand, "and then reaching out to wrap itself around your heart." He sucked in a breath when her hand came to touch his cheek, and ever so slowly, her fingers danced down his neck and collarbone.

"So," her other hand whipped out the bow that created sensational tunes on the violin's strings, "play for me, Quatre."

If she asked him to play in early hour of 2 A.M., he would. Even if they were at the brink of the world, he would still gladly do so. All the while, he was having a difficult time keeping his control in check. Though he may be strong-minded, if Dorothy simply breathed all would come crashing down. She stood too close for comfort in his perspective. The corset she wore had done a wonder on her chest and he was given an up-close view of it. He forced his head to stay up, yet his eyes seemed to take a will on its own and have, more than once, glanced down on her cleavage.

He swallowed mutely, grasping the bow she held. A small, satisfied smile played on Dorothy's lips as she lightly pecked his cheek before sitting on a nearby divan. That simple gesture sent his nerves haywire, it was enough to make him yell in frustration since he couldn't retaliate. He sighed inwardly, only a few minutes with her and already he was fighting a quickly losing battle. He hid his thoughts by shifting the violin in play position, rested his chin against the end, holding the bow just over the strings. Gathering what was left of his dwindling focus and strength, he concentrated on the violin to relieve himself of any…distractions.

Taking a deep breath, he let the bow slide against the strings and brought forth the notes of a heavenly melody.

She watched intently at the way he played the violin. His eyes closed and he let himself escape to the harmony that flowed through the air. He did not see her rise quietly from her seat. Nor did he see her take off her shoes and move to the music.

Blue eyes opened, when they saw what was before them, he gaped in surprise and nearly stumbled on the song. Long streams of lavender and violet swirled before him, coiling and looping in an exotic dance. The two colors celebrated to the rhythm of his solo symphony in waves and flutters, but he was solely entranced at the figure in the middle.

Her lids were closed, hiding the illuminating ice-blue orbs. White golden tresses swayed luxuriously to the sensual movements of her body. Shades of purple were tied on her wrists. Every twirl, dip, and curve gave an illusion of a magical aura made from the lengthy sashes that circled around her. She tilted her head to the side and arched her back with her arms stretched over her head as if offering herself to the skies above.

The violin almost slipped from his fingers and he frantically regained what little control he had left. Her arms moved in an enticing manner, calling him to her. She bowed low to the ground, an arm rounded to the side and she spun around while she rose up again. Her elegant footwork was majestic and she danced as if she were on a cloud. She pirouetted gracefully, her arms slowly moving up and down so the elongated stretches of cloth appeared to embrace her.

She skipped with poise over to him, finally revealing her eyes. They looked back at his blue depths and shimmered. His music hit a triumphant note and rose grandly into a crescendo. She slid up behind him and encircled her arms around his waist. The last few notes became hurried and frantic. Quatre forced his will not to pay attention to the slender hands that now ran alluringly up and down his chest. The melody was gradually fading due to his attention being called elsewhere. She settled on his shoulder, and he unconsciously slanted his head, which gave her the perfect chance to brush her lips gently against his neck. The violin and bow in his hands were now long forgotten. One hand boldly ran higher on his chest and the other traveled down his leg. Then ever so slightly, her tongue parted through her lips and she traced a path down his throat.

All the pent up desire in him finally came out in a low moan.

Dorothy instantly tore herself away from him. The absence of her body brought him to full alert. He tensed, narrowing his eyes at the unimaginable torture she was putting him through. His rapid heartbeat thumped against his chest. The air became humid, and his knuckles turned white from containing his yearning for her.

He briefly wondered what he did to cause her to move away, until she faced him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she stroked his nape tenderly and smiled. "Dare I hope for an encore?"

He could only hope it involved them together…in a room…alone.

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Duo rested his elbows on the sides of the marble tub. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. The water was just at the right temperature. He felt his tense muscles relax at the warmth that enveloped him. When Hilde suggested that he hop into the bathroom, he was, at first, perplexed at the request but complied to her words anyway.

The closing of the door told him that she had returned. He opened his eyes and let out a wild grin. That small action could make any girl fall, and Hilde was filled with pride, knowing 'that smile was for her only', as he had put it in his words. From her view, she could see that he had kept his trim figure even after the war. She considered herself incredibly lucky for meeting him and making him a part of her. But now, it was time to play.

She slid up behind him and gently grasped his lengthy braid.

"Babe?"

He looked at her incredulously and she only smiled at him in return. Taking the tie that held the style of his hair together, she pulled it off. The braid instantly unraveled from its confines, she watched in awe at the loosened state. She knew the many stories and memories behind the braid. The Maxwell Church tragedy, the two people who loved him more than anything in the world was taken from him on that event. He had confided in her of his painful past, and she cherished them like a precious jewel. Spreading its length with her fingers, she grabbed the bottle. Pouring a gallop of shampoo in her palm, she began threading it through his hair.

Duo sunk even lower at the magic her fingers worked at his scalp. Shifting into another position, he placed his elbow on a bent knee. As much as he treasured his lengthy braid, sometimes the weight of his braid would leave him a bit lightheaded, and Hilde was doing a wondrous job at relieving the strain.

"Damn, Hilde," he gave her another one of his suave smiles, "you do good work with those hands." He moaned in delight at her performance.

The sudden absence of her actions caused him to look back at her. The water vapor that gathered in the room had settled on her flesh and it glistened with moisture, making it ever more appealing. Even in the water, his hands ached to touch every part of her body.

He bit back a groan when she absentmindedly trailed her fingers across her chest. "Whew, it's quite hot in here." She fanned herself to cool her flushed skin. "Excuse me a 'sec so I can take this off."

At first, he panicked at those words for if she did what he thought she would do, there would be no stopping him for his actions. Take what off? There was nothing to take off but the corset! It was what currently hid the view of temptation away! Relief overwhelmed him when she reached for her rabbit ears and set them aside on the sink. Though he couldn't help but feel a hint of disappointment at that.

A rubbing noise caught his attention. He looked to see Hilde lathering her hands with soap. "Can't leave my favorite customer unsatisfied!" She said while placing the bar in one hand and wetting it in the water at the same time.

He sniffed the air ― lavender , he was going to end up smelling like a purple plant, but that was far from his mind when she was involved. His throat hitched when her hands went on his collarbone, lathering his skin by making circular motions. If anything, her actions were slow, agonizingly delicious, and…

Sensual.

The amusing glint in her eyes spoke volumes to him; meanwhile, he was holding back a growing sense of heat within him. She paid particular attention on the broad expanse of his chest. Her fingers traced the muscles on his stomach, and she watched in fascination at the way he responded to her touch. His abs twitched under her heated strokes. Her hands caressed adoringly at the sculpted planes of masculinity. Her fingers applied pressure to certain points she knew had effects on him.

He grit his teeth to bite back the moan that desperately wanted to escape his lips. Desire grew and churned within. She gave deep passion with her hands. Temptress.

Ever so slowly, her hand traveled downwards…

He yelped. "Hi-Hil!" His large hands quickly dove in the water and enclosed around her wrists, bringing them back up to the surface just as fast.

He gawped back at her in astonishment, staring past her hands held in mid-air to her inquisitive, yet secretly smirking, face. "New rule, Hil, you can go anywhere you please, but NOT THERE!" He sunk lower in the tub for emphasis in his words.

The brunette femme smothered a laugh and quirked a brow at him, "Why not? You certainly did not mind me doing that the other night."

"Exactly! That was the other night, this is today. Big difference there." He babbled, hoping to bring her off the subject. When she placed her hands there, all dams in him cracked from pressure and they were ready to break loose any moment. By jabbering, he was purposely stalling to get back some composure. Now, not only did he have a raging hard on, he also had no way of getting rid of it. How cruel the world was.

"Are you sure, Mr. Maxwell?" She pursed her lips to him in what he thought was an adorable, small pout, "I was hoping you would be satisfied."

Right before they could fully immerse in the bath water, Duo caught her hands once again. "Nu-uh, babe," he shook his head firmly, "hands off!"

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Prussian blue eyes followed her as she placed a bowl on the glass patio table then casually seated herself on the available space left of the patio lounge he occupied. "Heero, do you realize you're glaring at an object intended for eating?"

He looked from the contents of the bowl to the figure leaning over him and continued to leer. Slices of fruit were chilled on top of a mountain of ice, and set on the side were small squares of dark chocolate. A brow rose at the sweet tooth Relena suddenly had today. Nonetheless, he continued to avert his eyes away from the very near view of her chest, which failed miserably.

His features were overcome by shock when she rose on her knees and began to straddle him. A snarl emitted through clenched teeth when she strategically placed herself on top of his pelvis. Damnit, it was enough of a problem that he restrained himself for this long ever since she appeared in that bunny suit, but now she was on top of the strain of his desire with only thin layers of fabric separating them from his goal.

This was harder than a battlefield with mobile dolls. No, this was hell.

A smile formed on her rosy lips, indicating she knew exactly what she was doing to him. The narrowing of his eyes only made her reach over to the bowl and pick out a few grapes.

"Eat," she demanded rather than suggested. To cease any futile resistance on his part, she lightly pressed the round grape between his lips and he had no choice but to open his mouth to her request. He admitted, the chilled fruit was enjoyable, the cold giving it a bit of a zing to the juicy flavor. After three more, she reached over to the pile of fruits again, this time plucking two ripe cherries from it.

He tilted his head to one side when her hand held one of them to him. "These fruits aren't going to eat themselves, you know. I could at least have some appreciation after all the work I put into that fruit bowl." She emphasized with a small pout, drawing the cherry ever closer.

When he only smirked at her, she popped the other cherry she held, stem-and-all, in her mouth, removed the stem from the other and practically made him swallow it. These small challenges between them were cherished in a way, for they had the value of learning more from each other. A surprised yelp emitted from him when a few ice cubes traveled a wintry, dripping path down his collarbone.

Relena gasped softly as Heero scrambled in his seat to relieve himself of the sudden coldness. He growled, "Relena," he fidgeted with the buttons of his shirt. How the ice got there he had no clue, but he knew the golden-haired femme that was seated atop of him had something to do with it.

Then his moving hands were stilled by her delicate ones. He brought his gaze to hers and became worried at the coy smile she was giving him. "Let me get that." Never did he take heed of how those four words could pierce his self-control.

Within a second, he watched nimble fingers work at the buttons of his grey shirt, parting them open to the side. The heat of the day made the ice sizzle against his body. A sly expression glazed over her eyes as she admired the well-sculpted figure before her. He had still kept in shape even after the war. She lingered on the toned muscles she had the pleasure of touching many times. The ice had now come to a slow trail on his chest. The coy smile on her lips was starting to worry him.

He almost jumped when she clamped a hand over the cubes, trapping each underneath her palms. There was a small pause, he briefly wondered, 'Why wasn't she taking the ice off him?' He didn't think he could have been any more surprised when instead of lifting the icy objects off him ― she started to move them around.

His entire body went taut at her unexpected actions. A shiver ran up his spine as he felt the smooth, gliding path of freezing water over his now very heated skin. She left no corner untouched, letting the ice travel on every plane of him. He threw his head back slightly and suppressed a groan when she touched a sensitive part. The sensation was indescribable, as hot and cold battled together and swirled into a pool of growing craving. His palms gripped the side of the chair lounge painfully as he lay in unbearable bliss.

Relena watched awestruck at the slight twitches of the hard muscles beneath, not once ceasing her actions. A deep growl resonated from her lover's throat when she slid across his torso, tracing the ridges of his abs with slick fingers. No doubt about it, she could feel his concealed want for her through the cloth of his jeans. Looking at him, she could only see a sliver of blue from his intense orbs.

When he no longer felt the stimulating touch of her hands, he gradually opened his lids. He let out a breath of relief and frustration, the moist surface of his upper body turning warm from fiery longing. Pushing away the small feeling of dread at what her next mischievous attempt, he lay back on the lounge and focused his attention on her.

She had settled back to her position over his raging lower region, hands together in front of her placed inches above his groin. Her mouth was not talking, only moving from closed lips.

"Relena, fun and games are over," he managed to say after the vigorous fight of will and strength he just endured.

As if his words only encouraged her, she grinned wickedly at him and brought her hand up to her mouth. His eyes widened at the sight before him and felt like a bolt of lightning sent his restraint crashing down quickly.

Between two fingers, she revealed the stem of the cherry, all tied up in a fancy and alluring knot.

Crap.

TBC…

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END NOTE: In case you haven't known what Relena just did, ask yourself this question: Can you tie a stem of a cherry into a knot while it is in your mouth? Using nothing BUT your tongue? Heh heh, says something about how good you can work your tongue, doesn't it?