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Nikita was dressed like a princess. Her fluttery, wispy strands of blonde tresses were perfectly curled and they cascaded down her back. The long side bangs were styled elegantly and lay beautifully against her cheekbones. Her dress was pink chiffon and a trillion tiny bows with white flowers in the centers were scattered liberally all over. It was a floor length gown and it even had puffy sides. The bodice was high and tight, and it pushed her bosom up and out. In her hand she held a delicately carved white, lace fan. She held it open and she continually fanned herself in feeble attempts to cool herself and to look coquettish.

Madeline had put her up to this. Nikita and Michael were to arrive separately to this ball. Maximillian Trek, an eccentric billionaire, who adored the Victorian era with a passion, also adored plastique bombs with a passion. Nikita and Michael were there to get to his office and destroy all his formulas and contacts with various illegal and legal organizations. Section knew the power of money, so Trek would live, unmolested, but his years of accumulated research would not survive. All the hardware already developed was being taken care of by Team two. All Nikita and Michael had to do was get into Trek's office, destroy his hard drive and torch his office.

Nikita observed the milling groups of guests. Damn, she thought, where the hell is Michael? Nikita had been there for twenty minutes already and had turned down five invitations to dance. If he didn't show up in the next five minutes, she'd have to dance with next buffoon who asked her.

"Hello my dear, may I have this dance?"

Nikita turned to the voice, irritated, but ready to accept. Fortunately, this buffoon was Michael. He took her breath away. He was dressed in tight black breeches, and a white flowing poet's shirt. His shoulder length hair was tied back at the base of his neck, with a black velvet ribbon. He looked positively rakish. Over time, Nikita had grown accustomed to his looks, but every once in a while, when a mission dictated a change of style, Nikita was still surprised to see how elegantly sexy Michael could be. However, she regained her composure quickly and gave no sign that he affected her.

"Of course." She graciously offered her gloved hand to Michael, and he neatly swirled her onto the dance floor, right in tune to a gorgeously scored waltz, which was just beginning.

As they began to move, Nikita became more conscious of Michael's movements. He was a superb dancer and he expertly twirled her about. She felt the gentle, but firm pressure of his hand on the small of her back and on part of her hip. Normally, his eyes would be scanning the room, observing the guests and noting possible escape routes. Instead, he watched her. She felt his green eyes devour her face and she drowned in his liquid gaze. Every time he turned her about, the pressure of his hand increased on her back. Her hands, covered by white lacy gloves, grew sweaty. She became warm all over and she knew her face was growing pink. Nikita was surprised by the way her body reacted to him.

"What's wrong Nikita?" Michael looked concerned as he watched her face carefully. Nikita decided to face him honestly and spoke.

"I don't know. I feel like a school girl, and we have a job to do."

"What do you mean?" Michael questioned her with a slight frown on his face.

"I mean . . . . I mean, uh . . . Oh never mind!" Nikita gave up, and broke away from him. She spotted an exit that led to a garden and ran toward it. She needed some air. As she stepped out on to the terraced landscape , the cool night air washed over her like a soothing balm. Meticulously tended flowers greeted her. The fragrance of roses filled her nostrils. Nikita barely noticed the scenery as she nervously grasped her fan and waved it frantically in front of her flushed face.

What is wrong with me, Nikita thought, pacing back and forth. It's only Michael. What was I supposed to tell him? Oh Michael, I'm blushing because for some reason, I'm totally turned on and I just can't control my body? It was infuriating. It was insane. It was kind of nice. She paused in her ruminations and realized she liked it. I've got to admit it, she told herself. I've been attracted to Michael since I met him. But, why now, in the middle of a mission, do my knees turn to rubber? Just because he's dressed up like one of my young girl's fantasies? With a shock that made her tremble even more, she realized that that was exactly why she was so horny all of a sudden. He *was* dressed up exactly like one of her adolescent fantasies. Before she could absorb this truth, a slight bang interrupted her and she turned to the sound.

Ten feet away, Michael stood in front of the stained glass door he had just shut. Nikita's heart beat faster and she faced him silently.

"Forgive me for being late."

He took a step closer to her.

"I destroyed the hard drive without you."

He moved a few steps closer.

"The office is also taken care of."

He shrugged and moved closer still. "The opportunity presented itself, so I took it."

He now stood three inches from her.

"I hope you don't mind."

Nikita's heart felt as though it would burst out of her chest. Her lips parted to speak, but no sound came out. Michael raised a finger to her lips and pressed his finger against her mouth. He stared deeply into her eyes, the meaning in them bare and primal. Then he spoke so softly, she could barely hear the words.

"Don't speak. I don't want to talk to you."

**********

Nikita's lips trembled under Michael's finger. Michael simply smiled.

He gently pushed his finger into her mouth and slowly probed. Nikita's tongue began to caress his finger and she raised both hands to control *his* hand. As she was about to grasp his hand, he pulled his finger away.

"No."

Nikita stared back at him, wide-eyed and hungry. He took both of her hands in his right hand and held them gently, but firmly together between their bodies. Then, he put his finger back into her mouth. Nikita nodded in acquiescence, closed her eyes an d continued to slowly suck on Michael's finger. Michael watched Nikita's face, mesmerized. She was so beautiful tonight. Her golden hair shone in the moonlight and her porcelain skin was flawless. Her breasts slowly rose and fell in rhythm with her de ep breaths. Michael stopped staring at her face.

He freed her hands and he placed his right hand on the curve of her neck. He let his fingers softly trail across her shoulder and glide down toward the tops of her breasts. Nikita's breath caught in her throat and her eyes flew open. Michael ignored h er. He stared intently at his hand, as it outlined the soft curves of her breasts. When his index finger caught the tip of her nipple through the gauzy material, his breath caught. His fingers tugged the material over her breasts, revealing them to the moonlight. He pulled his finger out of her mouth and used both hands to cup the underside of one exposed breast. He lowered his head and breathed hot breath over her nipple. Then he covered the nipple with his mouth, and his tongue lazily circled the r osy tip.

Nikita moaned and her hands rose, then lowered on the top of Michael's head and her fingers entwined themselves in Michael's silky hair. Nikita pressed her body against Michael's and enticingly pushed her breast harder into his face. Michael sucked har der and they simultaneously began to lower themselves to the ground. Once there, they both lay stretched out with Michael covering Nikita's body. As Michael continued to suckle Nikita's breasts, in turn, Nikita began fumbling with Michael's breeches. M ichael felt her hands and took over. While manipulating her hands with his own, he began to place little wet kisses along her neck. Nikita's hands, caught in Michael's, reached into his breeches and met with hard flesh. He forced her fingers to wrap a round his member and she willingly obliged. Nikita pushed his hands away, and she carefully, lovingly stroked him.

Michael continued to place soft, wet kisses on Nikita's neck and teasingly bit her ear lobe. Nikita turned her head and their lips met. Nikita's eyes opened again, and she saw Michael staring back at her. They continued to kiss and their tongues met a nd politely darted around in each other's mouths. Nikita closed her eyes. So did Michael.

Nikita stopped stroking Michael and placed her hands back in Michael's hair. Michael groaned and his hands scrambled to reach under her dress. Once his hands reached her inner thighs, he straightened up, threw her dress up over head then knelt between her thighs.

Nikita stiffened as Michael placed familiar soft, wet kisses along her inner thighs, closer and closer to her inner flesh. Michael lay fully on the ground now, and as his mouth reached her most sensitive spot, his hands quickly snaked out from under the dress and quickly grasped her breasts. He pinched her nipples as he sucked at her inner core.. Heat radiated from Nikita in waves. Michael felt her thrash around as she reached her climax. He squeezed her nipples harder and a harsh cry broke from her throat. Hot moisture came from her and Michael pulled himself out from under her dress. Nikita lay heaving and Michael stared at her, as if fascinated by the sight. He knelt beside her now. Nikita's eyes were glazed over and she finally focused on Mich ael, then sat up abruptly. She reached toward the top of his breeches and gently tugged at the hard flesh. Michael groaned again and allowed Nikita to handle him. She pushed him down, then stood above him. She smiled at him impishly. Nikita lifted her dress above her waist, then slowly lowered himself onto his manhood.

Michael moaned loudly as she began to rhythmically lower herself up and down. Michael's hands reached up to her breasts again and he squeezed them softly this time. Nikita smiled at Michael and she moved faster. Michael's head rolled back and forth on t he ground and his eyes were closed tightly. Nikita suddenly felt Michael stop and she watched his eyes open and he stared at her wonderingly. He then helped her move so that she was sitting next to him comfortably.

Michael didn't speak. Neither did Nikita. They didn't look at each other. After a few moments of silence, Michael turned to Nikita and began to put her dress in order. Nikita watched his movements for a few moments more, then she began to help Michae l put his clothes in order.

After that, they both stood up. The garden around them was beautiful. Only the spot where they had consummated their long ignored need looked rumpled. The grass was torn in places, and a few flowers were scattered. As Nikita stared unbelievingly at th e spot, she realized that Michael was too.

They then looked to each other. Michael's lips parted and he was about to speak.

Nikita placed a finger on Michael's lips and pressed it against his mouth. Then she spoke, loud and clear.

"Don't speak. I don't want to talk to you."

THE END