Touch Me There

Archer sucked on the edge of her sleeve, knowing it was driving the guy who she was dancing with insane, green eyes alight with mischief. Her arms were raised slightly above her head and she moved her hips This was the only real fun she could have. Moving into the stranger slightly, she grazed her lips against his neck and smirked as she felt him shudder against her.

"I'm hot." she murmured close to his ear and smiled again at where his imagination was probably taking him. "Get me a drink, will you?" Archer asked innocently, pulling back from the guy. He nodded dumbly and slipped away from the center of the crowd, leaving the woman standing still, though somehow blending in with the pulsating mass of people, smirking in the middle of the room.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you not to play with your food?" Brock purred from behind her, spinning her into his arms and dancing. "That poor man has no idea what hit him."

He moved his hips against hers, grinning. "You dance like a gypsy." He praised. "Are you this good a dancer in other locales?"

Archer jutted out her lower lip a bit in a pout. "Oh, I wasn't going to eat him." she said mockingly innocently, her arms snaking around the new stranger's neck and pulling herself into him. "I just wanted to play." This one was cocky. His type tended to be more fun anyway.

"And you dance..." her gaze flickered downwards from his gaze for a split second, and she tilted her head back upwards, she was smirking. "...well." she finished off. Archer pressed her body against his as the music began to pick up a faster beat and smiled slyly.

"You'll have to find out, honey."

Brock took a deep breath through his nose as she moved against him, grinning. She smelled divine. "Play?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, even as they danced. "What sort of games are you planning on?"

"And how does one get around to finding out?" He breathed, leveling his eyes at her. "Is there any particular way?"

Archer moved against him slowly, painfully so in contrast to the speed of the music's beat, and grazed her lips against the hollow of his neck. "Mhm." she hummed in confirmation. "I love to play." she purred, hands playing with his hair absently. "Oh, you know the sort..." she trailed off, eyes almost daring him to do something. "just fun ones."

Archer smirked inwardly and did a half shrug with one shoulder as they danced. "One could always spoil me, I suppose." She raked a hand through his hair playfully. "I do love being spoiled."

"Mmhmm..." He groaned softly, his eyes following her. He moved with her, careful to maintain a simple friction. He grinned at her, his lips twitching upward in a smirk. "How fun would I have to be?"

Brock held in a purr as her hand went through his hair, and his pupils dialated slightly. "I would surely enjoy spoiling you." He murmured, placing his hands on her hips. "But I'm sure you'd enjoy it much more than me."

Smirking at his groan- which the woman rather enjoyed the sound of, to her mild surprise- she slid her hands from his hair so they rested lightly on the curves of his neck. Archer cocked her head to the side slightly. He was well built- very well physically trained, it seemed. She wandered for a short moment exactly what he did for a living, but was instantly distracted by his question.

"Oh, pretty fun. You're not boring, are you?" she teased. No, no he wasn't. If he was, she wouldn't still be here. She made a mockingly cute pout at him. "Darling, if you were to spoil me..." she trailed off, guiding her hips closer to his in time with the music, "I'd definitely be happy to treat you,"

Brock shivered slightly, leaning forward to brush his lips along her jawline. He paused at her ear, moving his hips against hers. His voice was low and guttural when he spoke next, his breath hitching as she moved against him.

"I have a room upstairs." He murmured, groaning slightly. "I'll spoil you rotten." He moved his hips against hers again. "I'll show you just how fun I am."

Archer stifled a moan at the feel of his lips against her cold skin, almost moving to bite her lip to stop the delighted sound. She did not moan. She would not moan.

Oh, but she did bite.

Taking in a quiet, anticipating breath, she recovered quickly from his touch- after all, he had just found a sensitive spot on her neck, what was a girl to do?
"Oh, good- because I'm starting to feel very playful," she purred. Of course, there was the issue of trusting the man- the stranger. He seemed intelligent, and well built. Often a dangerous combination, but, she felt oddly impulsive. Less like her usual strategic self- perhaps it was the alcohol's edge. Her mind wandered briefly to the weight that hung loosely around her waist, and other weapons that were hidden in her clothes and....elsewhere.

Brock pulled the woman closer, bringing them flush against each other as his mouth continued to wander across her skin. "mhmm..." He purred, moving his hips against hers again. "I'm feeling extremely..." He nipped at the sensitive spot he'd found on her neck. "...Playful..."

He pulled away from her, taking her hand and winking before leading her upstairs.

It was a simple room, with a door that led to the bathroom on one side and a closet beside that. However, most of the room was dominated by the large kingsized bed in the direct center, leaving the bare minimum of room for anything else.

Without any hesitation, Brock captured her lips with his own, ravishing her mouth with a single minded intensity that surprised even him.

Archer curled her hand into a loose fist in an attempt to stop herself from shuddering at the feel of his teasing mouth. She bit down slightly harder on her lip, trying to remember exactly why she had to control herself. Like she was ever one to take into consideration "common decency." Eyes dilating hungrily, the woman began to feel herself becoming more and more animalistic by the second. Leaning her head to the side, and exposing more of her neck, she breathed, "Can we play properly , now?"

Pouting slightly at the sudden distance between them and their broken proximity, Archer followed him upstairs. She quickly did a once over- all her...personal security measures, were in place. She would have to sort herself out- she didn't want the poor man getting hurt in the heat of things.

Her lips lifted into something between a smile and smirk. "I like i-" she began, but her sentence was abruptly cut off by his excited kiss- Merlin, where had that come from? She kissed him back with equal intensity, so much that it was almost daring, and competitive. Her hands curled into fists in his hair and one leg twisted playfully around his.

Brock's arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her up and enabling her to wrap her legs around his waist. His mouth moved away from hers, trailing kisses along her jawline and neck once more, pressing her down into the bed.

"How rough do you like it?" he murmured into her skin, pressing her down into the bed with his body, his hands moving to her waist to tug at her shirt. He lowered his mouth to her belly button, trailing kisses upward as he tugged on her shirt. Once the garment was off, his fingers went about exploring like the hands-on version of Christopher Columbus as his mouth went on its own journey. He tempted and teased her skin, at some points deliberately substantial, at others nearly nonexistent.

"The name's Brock, darling, so you know what to scream."

Archer’s lips slipped into a vague shape of a playful smirk against Brock’s and her legs locked tightly around his waist. This was…interesting, to say the least, a small corner of her mind registered. You had the hunter, and then the victim on these nights. They both seemed to be hunters. But it was fun. Fun was good. The woman grinned mischievously as his kisses moved to her neck. Fun was brilliant.

“Just don’t draw blood, honey,” she teased, only just catching his question. With so many distractions at hand- well, one, but it was a very attention demanding distraction- she was surprised she had even realised he had spoken. The woman shivered as her skin was exposed to the cool air of the room. When…when had her shirt come off? Her jaw clenched. Whether or not it was due to her frustration, or the anticipation of his hot breath against her, it was impossible to tell.

“I won’t scream, Brock.” She breathed, gaze fixed on the ceiling. Her lips crested into a playful smile. “And the name’s Bree, so you know who to beg.” The woman teased, only half serious. Three quarters.

"...Doable..." Brock murmured through a rough groan, returning his lips to hers. His shirt was gone in an instant, and then there was skin on skin and - as if she wasn't distraction enough - the thought that he was sort of glad he'd come unarmed tonight.

Eli totally owed him five bucks if he pulled this off.

A slight vibration on his wrist reminded him of the time, but he ignored it, stowing that information into the back of his mind as he continued to ravish her mouth, his hands wandering freely until they stopped on her hips, lifting her up and onto his lap as he rose to his knees.

"I have a confession..." He murmured against her lips, keeping the motion between thier bodies fluid. "...I have a bit of a kink..." Ropes shot from the headboard, wrapping around her wrists and jerking them back, even as they shot from the bedpost, locking tightly around her ankles. He laid her back down, his mouth on her neck again, even as the ropes grew taught, keeping her spread eagle on the bed.

"You'll be freed on good behavior." He purred, trailing his kisses down from her neck. "...or maybe if you beg..." He glanced up at her, his eyes sparkling as he bit down on her skin. "Just say my name, baby."

Shit, where was her belt? She needed that belt- belt was her bloody lifeline and the stranger, this Brock, had somehow managed to-

A soft, slightly muffled, moan escaped her as his lips found one of her sensitive spots. He was unusually good at using them. Most could find them, but maybe one or two could put them to good use. He had talent, she admitted to herself reluctantly. She didn’t need her belt. She could handle herself. Besides, what were the chances that he was even a threat?

A low, guttural growl pulled her top lip back slightly, and she tugged violently at the ropes with her wrist. This she didn’t like. This could get her in a terrible pickle. He could be anyone. She was wanted, and he could be anyone. That was a dangerous combination. But God, dangerous was so fun. That was her kink. And what a risky one she found it could be. The woman covered her internal conflict with a cool, relaxed mask, and raised her eyebrow at the man after she had tested the strength of the ropes. Pretty strong. “That’s no way to treat a guest, now is it, Brock?” she smirked, gaze lingering on the ropes tied around her ankles. It would be hard to get out. Hard, but not impossible-though she was pretty much in his hands, now.

She looked down at him as he spoke, just catching the playful spark in his eye. He wasn’t likely to turn out to be…someone difficult. He was too playful.

Stop being paranoid and just fu-

The woman’s body jerked ever so slightly at the unexpected bite, and she growled lowly, her hand attempting to move to tangle itself in his hair, but was restrained by the rope.
“I never behave, and I don’t beg.” She breathed.

"You like it." He purred into her skin, as his mouth wandered lower... and lower...

Ten minutes later, he was above her, grinning, raising an eyebrow. "Thought you didn't scream." He asked, licking his lips slowly before attacking her neck with his mouth again. "I like it when you say my name like that." he breathed.

Craving her now, Brock met her lips before finally forcing her to forget everything but his name.

---

~*~TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME LAAAAAAAAAAAAASPE~*~

-TIME LAPSE THIIIIING-

Archer's breaths were short and shallow, and seemed to disturb the satisfied silence of the room. That was fun. Maybe a little more fun than she had first anticipated. It was also...admittedly, tiring. She was tempted to make a wry comment to the man, but couldn't bring herself to. Her mind was hazy with drowsiness and her eyelids felt so heavy.

What she wanted to do was curl up in her own bed and let sleep claim her. Without the ropes still on her. Where she could drift in and out of sleep without being completely paranoid- but the usual paranoia she felt after having her night with someone wasn't as poignant. She was too sleepy. The woman tugged on the rope with her wrist lazily.

"Do me a favour, will you...?" she breathed, gesturing towards her binds, before accidentally slipping into a blissful unconsciousness.