Nikita sighed and came slowly awake in the soft bed. It was delicious there, her limbs feeling heavy and languid, her body relaxed and reluctant to move, still half caught in the rich languors of sleep.

She didn't open her eyes, wanting to prolong the guilty pleasure of sleeping in. That was a rare thing with her these days, since she had been working for Adrian.....

Adrian.

Nikita's eyes flew open and she looked around the unfamiliar room. She was not in her own apartment in her own bed as she had thought. Instead she was in Adrian's cottage, in the bedroom where she had first been held prisoner.

Nikita tried to sit up and found she was a prisoner still. Both arms were restrained, a thick binding around one and tape on the other. There were bandages across her chest, her arms crossed in front of her and wrapped tightly to her body, mummy-style.

She panicked, and giving a frustrated moan, struggled to sit up. Sharp pain shot through her at the movement, and she collapsed back onto the bed.

She was looking wildly around the room, thrashing on the bed, when the door was flung open and Michael rushed in.

"Nikita, no!" he cried out to her. He crossed swiftly to the bed, knelt with one knee on the edge of it, and leaned down to grip her shoulders gently, holding her firmly still.

"Easy, easy..." he soothed her, as she panted and struggled, wide-eyed, in his grasp. "It's O.K. You're safe.... it's all right.. shhhh....."

"What's going on?" she demanded, still distressed and disoriented.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, voice rising in fear.

Adrian would consider Michael as one of the enemy; he was Section One's fair-haired boy, Operation's right hand man. What would Adrian do to him if she found him here?

"Michael," she sobbed, trying to lift up her head, "Get out! Now! If Adrian finds you..."

Inexplicably, Michael seemed unaffected by her fear and urgency. He smiled slightly and brushed his hand gently against her cheek in a soft caress.

"Shhh," he soothed again. "There is no need to worry about Adrian..."

She sobbed and tossed her head. "Michael," she pleaded, "Please tell me- what is going on? I don't understand..."

She looked around the room, and then down at her restrictive bandages. "What are we doing here? Why am I a prisoner here?" she begged.

"You're not a prisoner, My Dear," said an amused feminine voice from the doorway. "You're a patient."

A small, delicately built old woman crossed the room and stood by the bed. She gazed fondly at the bewildered blonde lying helpless on the coverlet, and gave a friendly nod to Michael.

"Your injuries were unfortunately unavoidable when we took you," the old lady explained. "The tranq dart caught you at the top of some stairs and you fell, spraining one shoulder."

"The injury needs to stay immobilized in order to heal," Adrian continued calmly. "The other shoulder.." she said, gesturing at the arm with the least bandages, "will have to heal as well, since we had to remove Section's back-up tracker from deep inside the joint..."

"But hopefully you will only be a patient for a short time," Adrian went on. "After that, you will be a trusted member of my new staff, in the top echelons of my new organization."

The old lady put a hand on Michael's shoulder and patted it warmly. "Under Michael's direction, of course."

Nikita stared from one to the other, and then closed her eyes. Her head was whirling, her mind racing in circles. She felt like she was like another blonde adventurer known as Alice, and that she had just taken a headlong tumble down a rabbit hole. If a large white rabbit with a pocket watch had stopped her to inquire about the time right then, she could not have been more surprised.

She opened her eyes and shook her head. "New... organization?" Nikita queried hoarsely, her eyes darting from one face to the other. Both Michael and Adrian appeared inexplicably relaxed and comfortable in each other's presence.

Adrian gave a short laugh. "It was Michael's idea, really," she said happpily. "I'll let him explain it all to you, My Dear."

The old lady walked to the door and nodded fondly at the girl on the bed. "I'll come check on you later, hmm?" she said with a smile, then she was gone, closing the door behind her.

Nikita turned bewildered eyes to Michael, who was still gently stroking her face, and still looking inexplicably, impossibly, happy.

"Michael?" Nikita asked, apprehensive and breathless.

This time he did not soothe her with words, but with a deep, gentle kiss. He sat on the bed and leaned toward her, pressing his mouth firmly to hers, tongue exploring her depths with slow, passionate intensity.

Nikita moaned against his soft mouth and opened herself further, surendering fully to his very effective way of comforting her. The kiss did more to reassure her than any words could have that everything in their world was indeed all right.

At last he pulled back from her and sat up straight. His green eyes glittered and he gave her another soft smile, and began caressing her face again.

"Remember when I told you that there were things that had to remain hidden?" he said gently. "Things that I couldn't tell you... yet?"

"Yes, Michael," she gasped, breathless at the implication of his words.

He laughed and kissed her again, brushing his lips against hers in a swift and light caress.

"Well, now I can tell you those things, Mon Amour," he said, his eyes gleaming. "I can tell you everything..."

He leaned forward again, and rested his face against hers, breathing the soft words into her ear. "I can tell you everything about Adrian, and about Section, and, most of all....." He kissed her neck and sighed against her cheek. "I'm free now to tell you everthing that is in my heart....."

Then the world around Nikita tilted wildy once more as Michael's mouth came down on hers and he kissed her once again.

************

"Tell me," Nikita breathed, when Michael finally broke the gentle kiss.

He sat up and smiled at her, inching closer on the bed until his black trouser-covered thigh was resting all along her hospital gown- covered one. He wanted to touch her, to hold her hand, but that was impossible with the bandages on her arms. Almost unconsciously, he began stroking the smooth, bare skin at the back of her knee.

"I knew about Adrian's plan to bring down Section One," Michael began calmly. "She believed, like I do, that Operations was getting out of control; that he wielded too much power..."

"You were helping her, too?" gasped Nikita, trying not to be distracted by the feel of his warm fingers on her sensitive skin.

"Not exactly," said Michael, unconsciously slipping his hand under the hem of the thin gown to caress one lean thigh.

"Adrian and I had different goals, different end games....." He smiled almost shyly. "I just managed to persuade her to my point of view."

"And what view was that?" asked Nikita, panting a little and automatically shifting on the bed so that his hand would come more firmly in contact with the tender flesh of her inner thigh.

His fingers still moved tantalizingly back and forth under the gown, almost of their own accord. "I didn't believe that Section should be destroyed," continued Michael in a faraway voice. "I just thought there needed to be a new organization formed to do the things Section tried to do, only in a new way.. a humane way...."

He paused and licked his lips. "Adrian's way," he stated, looking into her eyes.

"Adrian?" said Nikita, wide-eyed, scooting down in the bed so that Michael's hand would move higher on her leg.

"Yes," answered Michael, the hand now making light circles on her skin under the gown, his fingernails lightly grazing her, sending goosebumps to rise all along the long length of her leg and run tingling up her back.

"I've been trying for a long time to find a way for us to be together, to.. to live together openly," he said, his green eyes soft with emotion. ".. without the fear of being cancelled..."

Nikita sighed. His longing for just that sort of freedom had been aparently as deep as hers. "Oh, Michael..."

The hand under her gown stopped for a moment as he gripped her leg firmly. "At the same time I realized it was too late to just give up trying to make a difference," Michael continued.

"You and I have both been trained to fight for the lives of the innocent, to uphold he greater good.." He shook his head emphatically. "Neither one of could just run away from our committments and expect to have any peace...."

With a huge sigh, he stretched out beside her on the bed, feeling an overwhelming desire to embrace her. Carefully avoiding putting any pressure on her injured upper body, Michael wrapped his arms around Nikita's hips and laid his head gently on her belly.

"But now we can have the best of both worlds," Michael whispered. "With Adrian's help, we will start a new organization that will stop the evil in this world that needs to be stopped..."

He pressed a kiss to her navel, burying his face in the hollow of her hip and breathing in her sweet scent.

"And you and I, Nikita," he said, voice hoarse with passion, "can be together...."

He lifted his head and met her tear-filled eyes. The grip on her hips tightened, fingers digging in to the soft flesh. "That is," he said almost fearfully, "if you still want me..."

Nikita laughed, and let out a sob at the same time. This was one of the most magical moments of her life.

"Yes, Michael, yes," she moaned, arching her back and thrusting her hips against him.

"I've always wanted you," she sobbed breathlessly. "I've always wanted to be with you...." she gasped. His words had filled her heart, making it soar to the heights, making her feel complete. But his touch, his kisses, his hands on her, had only served to ignite her deep passion for this man she loved.

Her body cried out for fulfillment, for the ultimate joining, for a corporeal completion, for a physical expression of her love....

"I want you right now, Michael," she begged, writhing under him and trying to wrap her legs around him.

She lifted her head up and looked at him with passion-glazed eyes. "Make love to me, Michael," she pleaded. "Please..."

Michael gazed at her as if he were a man just coming awake from a dream. His smile faded and he sat up abruptly, backing away from her on the bed.

"No," he said in an anguished voice. "I... can't..."

Nikita tried to wriggle closer, bereft at the loss of his touch. "Why not?" she gasped, voice equally as anguished.

Michael gestured at her bandages. "You're injured," he exclaimed in obvious distress. "If I got on top of you, made love to you, I would injure you further..."

Nikita laughed, her world suddenly right again. Michael had not been rejecting her after all, but was only afraid of hurting her.

"Then don't make love to me THAT way," she chided him softly, her eyes gleaming.

She leaned her head back on the pillow and arched her hips up toward him again, in a gesture of ancient need. "Just keep doing what you were doing..." she told him breathlessly. "Just keep kissing me... touching me....." she groaned. "Please..."

She heard him gasp and then felt the delicious weight of his body settle again between her legs on the bed.

"Nikita.." he moaned, and then she sighed again as Michael's hands once more slipped under the hospital gown's short skirt.

*************

Nikita closed her eyes and let out out a sighing breath as she felt Michael's warm fingers caress her inner thighs again.

"Ohhhh, uhhh, yessss...." she breathed, arching her head back as the confident hands moved slowly higher and found the edge of her panties, fingertips slipping lightly underneath.

"Let's get these off you," Michael murmured huskily. He pulled up the hem of the hospital gown and shoved it out of his way, bunching it around her waist.

Her taut abdomen and long legs lay revealed to his eager gaze, her lower body naked except for the small lacy scrap of underwear.

Nikita whimpered. She thought he would yank the offending garment from her in one hasty movement, but he didn't.

Instead of his strong hands on her, she felt Michael's soft mouth, gently licking and kissing her tummy, tongue flicking maddeningly across the top edge of the panties.

"Michael, please.." she groaned, bucking her hips to encourage him. Her injuries and the pain in her shoulders was forgotten; all she was aware of now was her aching need for his touch deep within her feminine core. She wanted him so much...

His mouth never left her as she felt his hands slip under her, holding her firm buttocks and then moved toward the front, snagging the thin garment with his thumbs at each hip.

He lifted himself from between her legs just enough to pull the lacy scrap down and off, tossing it to the floor. Then his warm breath was on her again, his face buried in the crease where her body and her legs joined, his hands cupping her buttocks again.

He lifted her gently, tilting her pelvis upward in his grasp, and lowered his face to the secret, hidden female mystery of her body. He groaned and inhaled her sweet, heady fragrance and then plunged his tongue inside the delicate folds of her womanhood.

Nikita almost fainted from the pleasure. She writhed against him, gasping, thrusting her hips eagerly against the source of her delight, wanting to increase the pressure of his incredibly talented mouth on her most sensitive parts.

He gave a little laugh and gripped her rear tighter, holding her still.

"Patience," he breathed against her, his warm breath softly stirring the tangle of dark blonde curls.

She could only moan incoherently in response--- words were beyond her, lost as she was in anticipation of the further sweet torment of his caresses.

His hands moved gently from under her to caress the tender skin of her inner thighs again, gently pressing her knees wider open. Nikita quivered in helpless longing.

Then he ended his torture and with hands and tongue, began his pleasuring of her in earnest.

With infinite care, his fingers teased back the outer lips of her femininity, revealing the intricate folds beneath. He traced the outline of each inner labia with his tongue, and then kissed each side of the tender pink flesh fervently, feeling her moistness against his lips.

Her breath came in sharp gasps now, her belly heaving with the efforts of her body to suck in enough air to remain conscious under the onslaught of sweet sensation.

Michael pulled her closer, his tongue going deeper inside her fragrant depths. He lapped at her like a cat with cream, using broad strokes of his tongue all along her center and up toward the most secret and sensitive of her pleasure places.

He licked her relentlessly until the hood of her pleasure bud peeled back, coaxing her clitoris from the sheltered haven of the soft pink folds.

"Ahhh....ahhhh.... ahhhhh...." the woman on the bed cried out with each incredible caress of his tongue.

He changed styles effortlessly, no longer using the broad front of his tongue to excite her, but now flicking its pointed tip rapidly across her sensitized flesh, knowing instinctively that his caresses at this point, needed to be at once faster and more gentle.

He closed his eyes and moaned, feeling himself grow uncomfortably hard as his manhood throbbed and strained against the now tight material of his pants. His engorged c*ck clamored for attention, demanding to be plunged deep inside her where his tongue had so luckily been.

He paused to gasp and take a deep breath, then gathered all his concentration to continue Nikita's pleasure, and take her to the release she had begged for.

Her body was tensed in a bow, her hips coming off the bed as all the muscles in her long legs clenched in readiness for the ever higher spiralling ecstacy she knew would come.

She couldn't take much more- she knew she was close. It would only take a little more of Michael's intimate kisses, a few more caresses of that talented mouth, and she knew she would explode in night-shattering fireworks of delight.

"Michael.. Michael, please...." she whimpered.

In answer to her cry of need, he moaned and plunged his tongue back in her depths. He suckled on each small inner labia in turn, and then found the throbbing pleasure bud again and repeated the rapid flicking motion of before.

The tip of his tongue moved so rapidly across her clitoris, and with such perfect intensity and pressure, it was almost as if it vibrated against her most sensitive core, sending waves of pleasure deep within her body.

Holding her hips in his hands, he felt the first shudders of her orgasm begin. Michael moaned and tightened his grip on her more firmly, holding her steady as he swirled his tongue in one sweetly enveloping circle around her delicate pleasure bud.

Nikita bit back a scream and quivered, bucking her hips against him. Michael swirled his tongue again, knowing with satisfied happiness that his next movement would send her crashing over the edge of ecstacy.

He lapped at her swollen clitoris again, then drew it- so very gently- just inside his lips, and then firmly suckled it.

Nikita arched her back and cried out, almost sobbing as the waves of her intense orgasm took her. Michael held on to her wildly bucking hips, maintaining the contact of his mouth against her rippling flesh.

He kept kissing her, kept stroking the soft pink folds, kept licking her lightly as the violent tremors that shook her body gradually lessened and then ceased.

When he felt her at last relax and go limp on the bed, he lifted his head from her and moved up just a little to place soft kisses on her navel, giving her tummy gentle licks.

Nikita gave a litle laugh of deep contentment and shivered in delight, as this last tender caress tickled her and sent gooseflesh all over her body.

Michael's own swollen pleasure center between his legs still throbbed demandingly, his c*ck still clamoring for a release of its own. But, unlike his body, his mind was content that he had brought the woman he loved the ultimate pleasure, and he was resigned to the fact that his needs, for this night at least, would remain, unavoidably and regretfully, unfulfilled.

He would just have to wait until Nikita was healed until he could take his own pleasure with her, until they could share their passion together.

With a sigh, he raised up on the bed and adjusted the twisted hospital gown more modestly around the injured woman's legs. He stood up and bent down to kiss her softly, looking into her drowsy, passion-glazed eyes.

"Are you relaxed now?" he said in a teasing murmur against her cheek.

"Mmmmmm......" she sighed incoherently, closing her eyes.

Michael laughed and bent to kiss her cheek lightly; as he did, his body brushed against hers, and she felt his unrelieved aching hardness against her side.

Her eyes flew open, and she turned a concerned face to him, looking slightly guilt-stricken.

"Michael?" she asked in a whisper.

He gave a short shake of his head and smiled at her. "It's O.K., ma Cher," he said with an embarrassed laugh. "I'll leave you to rest now...."

Nikita adamantly shook her head and tried to struggle up on the pillows. "No, Michael," she declared stubbornly. "It's not O.K.! You have needs, too..."

She hated to have done something almost cruel to him, after all the kindness he had shown her. "It's not fair..." she stated emphatically.

Michael shushed her and pushed her gently back on the bed. "Hush, Love," he said softly, touched at her concern.

"I'll live, you know," he said with a shy grin. "There's nothing you can do for me, anyway, right at this moment.." He rose to leave the room.

Nikita stopped him by calling him back. "Michael, don't leave," she begged.

He turned in the doorway. "Yes, Love?" he asked softly.

She had a determined look in her eye. "You may not be able to do it WITH me, but you can still do it FOR me," she said in a demanding inexorable tone.

Michael lifted an eyebrow in shock. "WHAT did you say?"

"We're not done making love," she declared stubbornly. "Not until you are satisfied, too."

He shook his head, stunned. "But you can't- we can't....." he stammered.

"I know," she said softly. "I know *I* can't. But *YOU* can.." Her eyes lit with a soft glow. "My hands don't work, but yours certainly do.." she said with a grin.

"Nikita!" he gasped in shock.

She glanced pointedly at the space on the bed beside her. "Lie down here," she ordered, her voice firm.

Michael hesitated, suddenly shy.

"DO IT," Nikita pleaded. "Do it for me..."

Her gaze flickered hungrily over him, sending chills of anticipation and excitement through him. The tumescent, almost painful, lump in his pants grew taut and hardened further. He wanted this.

He met the hungry blue eyes with needy green ones of his own. He took a deep breath, shut the door firmly behind him, and crossed to the bed.

Nikita smiled. "Perform for me," she begged.

************

Michael stood at the side of the bed, gazing softly down at the beautiful woman lying there. For she WAS beautiful, bandages and all. Of all the people in the world, this was the person he felt the closest to, the person he loved, the person he had shared his most intimate moments with.

More than anyone else on earth, he trusted her. He loved her, completely, with his whole being.

Still, there was something so infinitely private and personal about the act he was about to perform. And somehow terrifying.

Michael felt his skin grow cold, even as his insistent manhood burned hotter. If he didn't know better, Michael might have thought the feelings he was experiencing were not unlike a bad case of stage fright.

He gazed shyly at the floor.

"Take off your shirt, Michael," Nikita whispered, encouraging him. "I want to see you...."

He looked up at her then, and met her eyes. The love he saw there in her eyes dissipated his fear. Her warm gaze never left him as he slowly began unbuttoning the long-sleeved black shirt.

When he reached the last button, the garment fell open to reveal smooth skin over firm muscles, almost marble-like in their sculpted hardness.

"You're beautiful, Michael," she whispered. "Do you know how beautiful you are?"

He smiled at her, and let the shirt drop from his broad shoulders to the floor.

"Touch it, Michael," Nikita said, guiding him in his pleasure, as well as her own. "Touch that beautiful chest."

He stared mesmerized at her and his lips parted slightly as he began to breathe harder.

Trance-like, he obeyed, realizing that what he would be doing would not be some solitary act of self-gratification, but instead would be an act of mutual pleasure, an act of intimate love-play between them.

He knew Nikita would enjoy this as much as he would. He tried to make it good for her.

He laid gentle fingers on his sternum and felt his heart beat wildly beneath his hand. Slowly he brushed his palm across the skin with its light covering of hair until his fingers found the flat nipple and pinched it lightly.

Nikita smiled as she watched his eyes close and his head fall back as he caressed himself harder.

"Does that feel good, Michael?" she asked softly.

"Mmmmm," he moaned incoherently, fingers moving faster, firmer.

"Who's touching you, Michael?" she whispered.

He opened passion-glazed eyes and looked at her. "You are," he breathed with intimate sweetness. "You are....."

Nikita swallowed hard, touched at his intimate trust of her.

"Do you want me to touch you more?" she said hoarsely, voice choked with emotion. "Let me touch all of you, Michael...."

"Oui... oui...." he said huskily, moving toward the bed. "Touch me...."

"Please touch me," he begged.

************

"Take off the rest," Nikita whispered. "Let me see all of you."

Michael held her gaze and slid his hand down from the now hardened nipple over his smooth ridged stomach until he reached the waistband of his slacks.

With a small groan, he unsnapped the fastening at the top and slowly lowered the zipper, carefully easing it over the hard pressure of his engorged manhood.

He slipped his fingers under the elastic band of his boxers and with one swift movement, pulled both trousers and underwear down and off, kicking his shoes off at the same time.

Still bent forward, he stripped off his socks and then straightened, standing entirely naked before her.

She drank in the beautiful sight of him, all hard muscle and long lean lines. His green eyes glittered in the angelic face, his hair tousled and curling in wild dissaray down to his shoulders.

His chest was heaving as he took in rapid breaths in his excitement. His hands trembled where they hung at his sides near the sculpted lines of his lean hips, and from between the muscular thighs rose the perfectly formed hard length of his manhood, rising proudly to lie against his taut abdomen.

"You're beautiful, Michael," she said again. "So beautiful...."

He locked his gaze with hers, and she directed him again in their love play. "Touch yourself for me, Michael, please...."

He moaned softly and closed his eyes, his head tilting back again.

Slowly, he slid both hands down his sides from his lean waist down the length of the firm thighs and then slid between them.

One hand cupped the darker skin of the soft sacs between his legs while the other moved higher to grip the hardened length of his penis, pulling the foreskin upward with firm strokes, where it glided back and forth smoothly over the purple, sensitive tip.

Nikita stared fascinated at his instinctive rhythmic movements, mesmerized by the way the muscles in his hips rippled and bunched as he thrust himself against the searching, caressing hand.

She licked her lips and let out a small sigh, feeling her own breath quicken as she felt her excitement build with his.

Michael tossed his head and let out a loud moan. "Nikita..." he cried, panting loudly. " Ahhh, oui... oui..."

"Tell me what I'm doing to you Michael," she whispered hoarsely.

He opened his eyes, and a second later he had crossed swiftly to the bed, and knelt beside her. She could smell his musky male scent, the heady natural fragrance of his arousal causing her own feminine core to throb in response.

Carefully, making sure he didn't jostle her injuries, he leaned toward her and took her lips with his own, exploring the soft insides of her mouth with his probing, insistent tongue.

He moaned softly against her lips and then answered her last passionate question.

"You're sucking me, Nikita," he panted against her cheek as his hand stroked the hard length of his manhood again.

"Ahhh ...oui... you're taking me into your beautiful mouth...."

Nikita laughed joyously. "You taste so good, Michael," she said softly, continuing the game. "I love to feel my lips around you.."

He groaned loudly again and sat up further on the bed, leaning back on his haunches and thowing his head back, his face contorted in passion.

His thick lashes of his closed eyes lay against his cheeks, his mouth twisted to one side, lips pressed tightly together.

The cords in his long neck stood out plainly, and a light sheen of sweat glistened on his face and chest. The sweat dampened his hair as well, and it hung in wild tendrils across his face.

He huffed out his breaths in short panting grunts, and the hand on the hard shaft moved faster, stroking harder, gliding, pulling, rubbing, in an ever more intense rhythm.

Nikita held her breath watching him. She had never seen him look more vunerable; and, at the same time, she knew she had never seen him look more powerful, in his complete and utter maleness, in his strong, masculine passion....

"Michael," Nikita whispered once more. "What are we doing now?" she said, enthralled by his escalating passion. "Am I still sucking you?"

He gave a slight shake of his head, but he did not open his eyes or slow the firm caresses of his hand. "No," he groaned out his answer. "We're in the briefing area at Section. .." he panted.

"What?" Nikita gasped in shock. "What are we doing in the briefing area?"

Michael moaned, and stroked himself harder. "I... I've thrown you across the table, and pushed up your skirt..."

He took in a shuddering breath and went on. "... I've torn off your panties, and now I'm taking you..... f#cking you.... fast and hard..."

"Ohhh..." he gasped, and collapsed on his side on the bed.

Nikita felt a glow of warmth spread through her, and a sweet lifting of her heart. She thought of all those times that

Michael had sat beside her at the briefings, seemingly so cold, so controlled----- she smiled.

He must have been thinking of her, wanting her, wishing he could fufill this fantasy of ravishing her in the middle of Section, defying the restrictions that Section had put on their inevitable passion....

Michael writhed on the bed, and turned on his stomach, his hand still under his body, firmly caressing the turgidly swollen c*ck. He sobbed in harsh gasps into the coverlet, and his hips undulated in a slower rhythm now as he thrust into his hand with sinuous, grinding movements.

Nikita could not help but admire the sight of his well- muscled back and his firm, shapely rear as the muscles bunched tautly, then relaxed, then bunched again as he ground himself deeply into his fist with sensuous, circular thrusts.

Nikita moaned. "Michael...." she begged, writhing on the bed herself as his movements turned her on further, "Tell me what you're doing to me now....."

He lifted his head up, arching his neck back as he thrust himself again and again into the firmly grasping fingers. His eyes came open, but they were unseeing, faraway in some new fantasy...

"I'm making love to you, Nikita," he groaned. "So sweet, so slow...."

Her eyes grew moist at the tenderness in his voice. "Where, Michael?" she asked softly. "In Section?"

He shook his head and turned again to lie on his back. He turned his passion- glazed eyes to hers and stared at her as if she was the only light in his dark universe.

"Not in Section, Nikita," he said breathlessly. "Right here..." he moaned. "Right here in this bed....."

"Michael..." she sighed, tears welling. "Michael...."

With a frustrated groan, he inched over to her until they were lying side by side. He slipped his fingrs once more under the hospital gown, and caressed the soft skin of her inner thigh.

"Please, Nikita," he begged hoarsely. "I can't do this anymore.."

"What do you mean?" she asked, unconsciously thrusting her hips up to increase the contact of her flesh with his hand. "Can't do what anymore?"

He moaned. "I can't keep touching myself and not touch you..."

His fingers moved higher, brushing against the soft mound of her womanhood, caressing the soft curls....

"Please," he begged again. "Please let me touch you, too, ma cher..."

It was Nikita's turn to tilt her head back and moan. She arched her hips up into his hand and then she begged him once more for release.

"Oh, God, yes, Michael...." she pleaded. "Touch me... Touch me, please..."

************

With a low moan, Michael nestled himself beside her on the bed, so that the long length of him was stretched out against her, their sides touching- shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, hip to hip.

He turned his head to look into Nikita'a blue eyes and their gazes locked. She stared back into his passion-filled green eyes, losing herself in their endless, warm depths.

Slowly, deliberately, Michael's hand moved over her thigh and under the hem of the hospital gown, finding the hidden treasures beneath. Nikita whimpered and writhed on the bed, as his fingers slipped through the blonde curls and and again parted her soft folds, dipping inside her quivering womanhood. He began arousing her, caressing her, fingers rubbing, teasing, exploring....

Her eyes never left his.

"Michael..." she moaned, as she searched his face and found such raw need and desire there.

"Touch yourself, too...." she whispered, wanting him to feel the pleasure along with her, wanting him to share in the onslaught of sensation brought about by his wondrous caresses.

"I'll be touching you, Michael, just like you're touching me..." she groaned. "Make love with me...."

Michael let out a sharp breath, and without slowing or stopping the delightful caresses of his left hand on her body, he slid the right down his taut abdomen until his fingers found the hard shaft and gripped it again.

"Ah, ahhh, uhhh, oui," he cried out in short gasps, throwing his head back and arching his back on the bed. He stroked her raw need in the same rhythm as he did his own, both hands gliding, circling, moving, firmly caressing them both at the same time, in an almost instinctive, perfectly co-ordinated, carnal dance.

"Nikita.." he gasped out through half-parted lips, as he bucked against one hand and she thrust herself against his other.

" Yes, I want to make love with you... " he groaned. "I want to be inside you, to feel you around me....."

"Please...." he begged, totally enthralled in their shared fantasy.

Nikita was too enchanted by his touches to speak; her only response was to lift her right leg over his and let her knees fall gently apart to give his exploring fingers greater access.

Michael obeyed her unspoken command and with a lover's tender care, his hand parted her folds and he slid one finger inside her.

She let out a high cry and writhed against his hand, her hips coming completely off the bed. A second finger joined the first, and then he was stroking them hard inside her, while his other hand, with exquisite harmony, caressed the pulsating c*ck with hard strokes in perfect time with hers.

"I'm in you, Nikita..." he moaned breathlessy. "Do you feel me inside you?"

"awwhh, ohh, uhhh...." came her incoherent reply. Nikita was past any conscious understanding of the words, so lost was she in the magical sensations he was creating in her. She arched her back, and closed her eyes, aware only of of his thrusting fingers plunging in and out of her, mimicking the act of physical union.

She thrust herself against his hand with rhythmic pushes, forcing his fingers to slide deeper, until she had engulfed them all the way in her soft flesh.

Then suddenly, the lovely sensations stopped, and his fingers grew still and then slipped out of her. Nikita, bereft and disoriented, opened her eyes and tried to get her breath back.

"Michael?" she gasped. "What is it? What's wrong?"

He had scrambled up from his prone position and was now turned to face her, kneeling at her side by the bed. His green eyes were liquid with anguish.

He leaned toward her and kissed her softly on the mouth. "Nikita, you know that I love you, don't you?" he pleaded.

Her eyes softened, and she gave a little laugh of happiness. "Of course, I know that..." she answered, her heart skipping in delight.

"And you know I would never do anything to hurt you?" he went on in touching earnesty.

Nikita had no idea where he was going with these questions, but she didn't care. She loved hearing him say the words outloud, as much as she loved it when he expressed his feelings for her by his intimate, exciting touch. To have both the words and the actions this night was an incredible blessing, a rainstorm after a years-long Section-induced drought.

"Yes, Michael," she assured him softly, "I know that, too."

He gazed at her with heartfelt sincerity, and moved closer to stroke one hand against the back of her cheek.

"Then, will you trust me now?" he whispered softly. "Will you let me.... let me...." He stopped, his eyes urgently pleading with hers.

"Let you what, Michael?" she asked in bewilderment. She had wantonly surrendered her body to him, had joyously joined in and led their love-play. There was nothing she wouldn't allow him, no pleasure she wished to deny him.

"You know I trust you completely, Michael," she said gently. "You know I want to give you everything....."

He groaned loudly and leaned down to kiss her carefully again.

"Thank you, ma Cher," he whispered hoarsely. "Merci, mon Amour.."

With a soft groan, he moved to the end of the bed and put his hands on her thighs again, pulling them gently apart. Then he knelt between her knees and lifted her legs up and rested each, one at a time, on top of his broad shoulders. He took his still engorged manhood in his hand again and held the wide, swollen tip of it lightly against the opening of her female core.

Nikita gasped as she felt him ease the head of his manhood slowly inside her.

"What are you doing, Michael?" she breathed, half in apprehension, half in excitement. It felt wonderful.

He thrust his hips gently forward until a little more of his thick penis dissappeared inside her.

"No more fantasizing, Nikita," he whispered. "No more games..."

He pushed another hard inch into her, and then another, and another, until his engorged manhood filled her completely.

They both cried out in simultaneous moans as their bodies met, his scrotum resting against her firm rear, his shaft buried to the hilt inside her, their thighs pressed length to length.

"We've waited too long to go on pretending," he whispered, "to go on just dreaming...."

He shuddered with passion and pulled out of her a short way, and then plunged himself forcefully back into her depths.

And then again. And again.

Nikita bit her lip and arched her head back, sighing out a moan at the sweet completeness of it. Michael was right. They had waited too long.

"Yes, oh yes...." she sobbed out, as he began his delirious rhythm of hips dancing against hips. "Take me, Michael," she moaned. "F*ck me, please... please... f*ck me...

************

"oui, ma Cher.... oui..." Michael moaned, and began thrusting in earnest into her sweet depths. His strokes lengthened as he pulled almost all the way out of her, then plunged himself back in, the intensity of his pace increasing along with the strength and urgency of his thrusts.

Both of them were ready for this love-making- everything that had come before, no matter how tender and how wonderful, had been only foreplay, an almost bitter-sweet torment leading up to this sublime moment of joining.

Michael felt a bone-deep satisfaction at the total rightness of it: it was what his body had clamored for, and what his heart had yearned for for such a long time as well- to be with Nikita, to make love with her, to make her his own....And he had done that, he realized. She was now his, and not Section's. He had gotten her free, had gotten them both free, and now there was nothing to stop them from loving each other, uniting together blissfully in heart, soul, and body...

Body... Nikita's injuries had been the hindrance, but Michael's careful positioning had protected her damaged upper body from being jarred by the impact of his powerful thrusts as he slammed forcefully into her.

He did not lie across her, but stayed upright, his sweat-sheened thighs connecting with her raised slender legs, which absorbed the brunt of the erotically sublime shockwaves of his pummelling, deeply thrusting, insistent c*ck.

Nikita swooned at the inescapable feelings that were building inside her; the delicious friction of his hard length inside her, moving, twisting, connecting with every sensitive inch of her feminine depths, as well as the sound of his harsh moans and the feel of his chest, hot and heaving, under the weight of her legs, all combined to spiral her up and up to the heights of ecstacy.

She cried out, as she felt her orgasm building, building.... "Oh, God.." she moaned, as each successive stroke felt incredibly more wonderful than the last, "Oh, God, Michael....."

Michael opened his eyes and gazed at the woman lost in passion on the bed beneath him. She was right there, right with him, her lower body joined intimately with his, as close as it was possible to be, but he felt somehow distanced from her, felt an almost inexplicable loneliness..

He wanted to hold her, to have his whole body on top of her, connecting with her, not just his thighs and his c*ck; however satisfying that might be, it was not enough. He wanted to be kissing her, wanted to be making love to her face to face.....

"Nikita..." he moaned, and carefully lowered himself down on top of her.

************

It occurred to Nikita fleetingly that she should have been alarmed, should have tensed up in apprehension of being hurt, as Michael stretched himself out over her.

After all, she was helpless beneath him, bandaged, her arms restricted, so she couldn't move or push him off. And she knew from her previous attempts at movement that if there was any pressure put on her shoulders or arms that the resulting pain would be excruciating.

Yes, she should have been frightened. But she wasn't. She trusted him completely. She knew he loved her, knew he would find a way to make love with her like this, face to face, without hurting her. But it was more than that. She trusted him completely to make this part of their lovemaking even more wondrous than anything that had come before.

And he did not dissappoint her.

Carefully, he leaned forward and placed his hands on either side of her on the bed, letting his weight rest entirely on his arms and his knees and none of it on her. Her legs were now under his instead of over them, and the delicious friction that his movements created made her moan outloud, as his manhood slid even deeper into her.

"Ummmm, uhhh, uhhhh....." she sighed, and closed her eyes, lost in the feel of his c*ck filling her so completely.

"All right?" Michael whispered, anxious to see if she was o.k. with this new, unexpected position.

She moaned again and opened her eyes. "Mmmm.... uhhh...." she gasped. "Feels.... so.... good...." she answered brokenly, hardly able to speak in her incoherent passion.

She looked up and found herself gazing into Michael's beautiful face hovering just above hers. His hair curled in sweat-dampened tendrils around his face, and his lips were parted as he panted rapidly, but what drew her gaze were his compelling green eyes, glowing with deep passion.

"Michael..." she begged, not knowing what it was she begged for.

"Michael...."

He groaned and bent his head to kiss her. His soft, full lips met hers in gentle devastation, his tongue plundering the soft depths even as his manhood ensheathed in her core did the same.

The bliss was overwhelming. It seemed to Nikita that he was everywhere at once---- in her, over her, around her, through her.... The kiss had transported her to some other dimension, some other plane of being. Nothing in this world could ever be this good, she thought.

"Nikita..." Michael moaned hoarsely against her lips, and then bent his head to brush his mouth against her jawline, her ear, her cheek, her forehead, and then back to capture her mouth with his own once again.

Simultaneously with each soft kiss came a hard stroke of his shaft within her, strong, firm, and deep. Michael made sure his slamming thrusts did not jostle her by shifting his position carefully, coming up on his toes so that he rode her body higher, all his weight on them and his arms, so that the only contact between their bodies was his hard thrusting c*ck and his soft, eager mouth.

But the contact between their souls went beyond that. It was as if the two had merged completely, every cell of the one touching every cell of the other, every breath intermingling, each heart intertwined, inseparable, and beating as one.

Perfectly they danced together, mouths enmeshed and tasting deeply, hips parting and meeting, gliding back and forth, back and forth, in slow, sinuous, gyrating movements.

Nikita thrust her hips up to meet his, writhing under him, as her passion flared out of control, her ecstacy building higher.

With each thrust and twist, his c*ck caressed her most sensitive inner places, her pleasure bud throbbing in response to the pulsating shaft that slid so enticingly, so insistently, within her.

"Yes.. Michael, yes..." she moaned loudly as the moment of her release grew nearer. Michael could feel the tremors start deep within her core and knew that she was close the edge of fufillment.

Michael was close as well, feeling that this joining was somehow perfect, and perhaps, in a way, destined. Despite Nikita's injuries, or perhaps because of them, they had shared something beautiful, almost holy--- their complete, intimate trust of each other.

Michael had trusted Nikita, had surrendered himself to her, letting her take control, and she, in turn, had done the same to him.

He took control now, knowing that with just a few more movements, a few more thrusts, just one more kiss, and they would plunge together over the edge into sweet, shattering release.

With a soft groan, he increased his pace, c*ck pushing deeper, stroking faster, grinding harder, against her. Every muscle in his sweat-sheened back rippled and bunched as he strained above her, rising up as high as he could, pulling back and out, and then plunging down into her, again and again.

He grunted with the effort, and his breath came in harsh gasps, chest heaving, as he labored to bring them both to closure. But if there was any pain or discomfort in his exertions, Michael was unaware of it.

Entranced in passion, Michael knew only that he was where he was supposed to be, ensheathed in this beautiful woman, his Beloved, and about to shudderingly explode his seed inside her.

Nothing mattered, nothing existed, but this moment, this woman. "I love you, Nikita..." he groaned. "I love you..."

A second later, even as he felt his own tremors begin, he felt Nikita start to quiver beneath him. He captured her lips with his once again, and plunged his tongue deep inside, pressing his mouth firmly against hers in act of complete union.

Their moans intermingled in the kiss, and Nikita felt herself almost faint as he plunged his manhood rapidly into her once more, his thrusts even more forceful than before, and triggered her long, shattering climax.

The epicenter of her orgasm was her pulsating womanhood, that clenched and spasmed around Michael's turgid, throbbing shaft, but the tremors radiated out from her core, down her legs and up her back, and Nikita jerked helplessly as the earthquake of fufillment shook her violently from head to toe.

Michael's own release gripped him and shook him as well, and even as he shuddered under the waves of pleasure that engulfed him and almost swept his consciousness from him, he still instinctively moved to protect Nikita.

He rose up over her, spreading his knees to lie over her hips, so that his thighs would pin hers to the bed and slow her involuntary, helpless thrashing. He rocked forward over her, his elbows carrying his weight now instead of his hands, and gently cradled her head and neck in his arms, trying to hold her still. He rested his head against her cheek, and felt her quivering still with the aftershocks of her climax, their climax, that caused him to tremble as well.

He couldn't help the joyous loud shout of release that escaped him as he came, even as he heard Nikita's high cry and hoped that her soft scream was one of pleasure and not pain.

"Nikita?" he gasped, when he had caught his breath enough to speak again. "Nikita, are you all right?"

She heaved a huge sigh and turned her head to look at him, her face flushed, her eyes glazed with tears, her lips trembling.

"Oh, God, Nikita," Michael cried in anguish. "I'm sorry.. I'm sorry... I shouldn't have done it.. I'm sorry..."

Dazed and breathless, Nikita stared at him for a moment and then let out a low moan. Michael's heart sank as he thought of how he had selfishly caused the woman he loved such pain. He mentally cursed himself and hoped she would someday forgive him, that she would let him make it up to her....

He turned his head away in shame, unable to look at her.

A moment later he jerked in shock as he felt Nikita's soft lips on his cheek and then heard her laugh in delight.

"Mmmmm," she moaned. "Michael.... ohhhh... that was....so....good....."

Michael groaned in joyous relief. He hadn't hurt her after all. He gave a delighted laugh of his own and kissed her hungrily, then pressed his forehead to hers.

"How good?" he teased happily.

She laughed again and her blue eyes glittered mischieviously. "Let's just say I owe you," she said breathlessly teasing back.

Michael smiled and carefully eased himself off of her, turning to lie beside her on the bed. He traced the outline of her mouth with one finger in a gentle caress.

"Really?" he said with a grin, continuing their banter. "And how exactly are you going to repay me, ma Cher?"

Nikita smiled wickedly and nipped at his finger, her soft mouth nuzzling it and her tongue darting out to give it quick, erotic licks all along its length.

"I'll think of something," she replied innocently.

Michael laughed and then kissed her again. He sighed happily and then rested his head on the pillow, his exhaustion suddenly hitting him.

"When you're well, Nikita, mon Amour," he chided her, "I'll remind you of your.... debt."

He reached out a hand to brush back a lock of her hair, then he sighed again and closed his eyes. After a moment, his breaths came slow and even and he fell into a contented, dreamless sleep, his fingers still lying gently against her cheek.

Nikita closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of this sweet, unconscious caress.

"I love you, Michael," she whispered, and then followed swiftly behind him into deep gentle slumber.

************

For Nikita, the next few days went by in a beautiful, blissful haze. Adrian demanded nothing from her, leaving her to rest, recuperate, and heal. The older woman was gone from the cottage for long periods of time, seeing to the business of the new organization.

Michael and Niktia were alone in the beautiful house, except for the daily visits of a doctor Adrian had sent to see to Nikita's injuries. He was an older man who spoke little, just silently, efficiently changed her bandages, checked the wounds, and then was gone.

Except for an occassional brief telephone conference, Adrian required nothing of Michael, either. She left him alone to do exactly what he wanted to do- be with Nikita.

Michael took over the patient's care. Because of the bandages, Nikita needed assistance with everything. Michael bathed, dressed, and fed her. There was little awkwardness between the lovers, and no resentment on Michael's part for the burden of these tasks. If anything, the intimacy of these rituals brought them closer.

Michael loved touching her, loved being near her, loved the freedom to spend all his time with her. He especially loved brushing Nikita's hair for her after her bath. He would lead her to the bedroom chair and stand behind her, using long, steady strokes with the brush down the glimmering gold length of her hair, until it lay shining and smooth down her back.

Sometimes the hair brushing would take hours and hours, because Michael could not resist mussing up the silky tresses he had just smoothed, could not resist the urgent desire to touch them.

Mesmerized by the silky texture of the golden strands of hair, he would gather it in his hands, caressing it between his fingers, and bury his face in it, inhaling her fragrance. Then he would lift the hair from her neck and begin kissing the sensitive spots underneath, then kiss all along her throat, then tilt her head up to his and capture her mouth for even deeper kisses.

Soon, he had lifted her and carried her to the bed, where they would make love again and again through the afternoon. When they were done, Michael would give her another bath, and brush her hair again, and the process would start all over again.

This time in the cottage was a space of Heaven for them both: it was the honeymoon they had never had, the carefee, intimate time they would have shared years ago if things had been different- if Section had been different.

They talked little of Section, or about the past. In fact they talked hardly at all, content just to be together, letting the intimate joining of their bodies say everything for them.

Despite Nikita's injuries, and their joint apprehension about how working with Adrian's new organization would work out, neither she nor Michael had ever been happier. They savored these special, precious few days, a joyous, beautiful idyll suspended in time.

They both knew it couldn't last forever, that reality would soon intrude on their Paradise. They clung to each other, cherishing every tender touch, each wondrous moment.

All too soon, the idyll ended. On the fourth day, the taciturn doctor examined Nikita and pronounced her well enough to do without the bandages, and proclaimed her completely fit for work. Nikita never thought she would be so crushed and dissapointed to be declared healed.

Michael felt bereft, the doctor's words bringing the heavy burden of reality again crashing in on him, bringing their magical world to an end.

When the doctor had left, Michael turned to Nikita and looked at her with suspiciously luminous green eyes. He kissed her briefly on the forehead and then picked up his cell phone to notify Adrian that her team was again ready for duty.

After a brief conversation with the old lady, Michael flipped the phone closed and again turned his anguished gaze to the woman he loved.

"I'm sorry, Nikita," he whispered.

For an answer, she stood up from her chair, went to him, and putting her newly-freed arms around him, tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him close.

They stood together like that for a long time, holding each other in a sweet, desperate embrace, and then finally broke apart and went into the living room of the cottage to await Adrian's return.

************

"Lovely to see you up and about, my Dear," said Adrian, smiling happily at Nikita and giving a brief nod to Michael.

Their new commander had arrived a short time ago, and the three of them had settled into the living room to begin a consultation about the operatives new duties.

Adrian was obviously eager to get started. "I wish I could allow you more time to recuperate, my Dear, but I think it's best not to dawdle," their leader began. "We need to get the new organization up and running as soon as possible, and to that end, I need both of you to complete a rather difficult assignment for me."

"An assignment?" asked Michael somberly, wondering how much risk would be involved this time, how much danger they would be in.

"Yes," the old lady replied with a sigh. "I'm afraid it will probably be unpleasant for you, but that can't be helped. You are the only ones I trust with this particular task."

"What do you want us to do?" asked Nikita apprehensively.

Adrian gave her a sympathetic smile and elaborated. "While you have been stuck here,My Dear, no doubt incredibly frustrated and bored out of your mind lying alone in your sick-bed, I have been getting things ready," she began, seeming not to notice the sudden blush that came to Nikita's cheeks.

"I have been preparing our new headquarters, your new command post," Adrian went on. "I want you two to go there, check the place out, and give me your final approval."

Michael looked confused. "Our.... approval?" he said, his eyes widening.

Nikita was puzzled as well. "Shouldn't that be your decision, Adrian?" she asked. "Isn't that where you'll be working, running things from..."

"Oh, my goodness, no, no.." denied the old lady with a small laugh. "I intend to stay right here."

Adrian gestured to the lovely room they were in and to the luxuriant garden outside. "I'm an old woman, and I prefer to be here, in my own home, free to tend my lovely growing things...." She gave the young lovers an emphatic nod. "I'm perfectly happy to go into semi-retirement, as it were - to just supervise from here, and leave you two to run things as you see fit."

Stunned into silence, neither Michael or Nikita was able to respond to this entirely unexpected revelation.

The old lady went on. "Of course, you will have to make adjustments to your new life-style as well."

"Life-style?" Niktia choked out, more confused than ever.

"Yes, My Dears," said the old lady with another regretful smile. "I know you will probably miss the excitement and adventure of going on missions all the time, but you must see that that has to end."

She nodded at them again. "I can't risk losing either of you. So, you see, my Dears," she continued, " There will be no more dangerous, dashing lifestyle for either of you."

She leaned forward in her chair and patted Michael sympathetically on the shoulder. "I'm afraid it will be terribly tedious for you, but you will have to stay at headquarters and run things from there."

Michael broke out in a slow smile, and looked at Nikita, who was smiling brightly back.

"It's O.K.," he assured his new boss, "We can handle it."

The old lady sighed in relief, and leaned back in her chair. "You are such, dear, brave children," she murmured, almost to herself. She gazed at the two handsome young people with deep admiration and pride.

After a moment, Adrian roused herself and shooed them out. "Go, now," she said, with a wave of her hand. "You'll find the keys in the car and a map to the new location. Check out your new headquarters and tell me what you think."

Michael rose from his chair and swiftly went to stand by Adrian;

Nikita joined him at his side. The old lady was startled when both young people leaned down and kissed her softly on the cheek, on on each side.

"Thank you," said Michael fervently.

Adrian only smiled and pushed him away. "Go, now, Dear ones," she said, blushing and wiping sudden tear from her eye.

Michael took Niktia's arm and led her outside in the sunshine.

On the doorstep, Nikita stopped Michael with a question. Michael?" she said anxiously.

He turned to her, concerned. "What is it, Nikita?" She gave him a sudden impish grin and asked her question.

"Do you think our new headquarters has a really nice, big briefing table we could try out?" she said innocently, batting her eyelashes.

Michael's only answer was to groan and sweep her into his arms for another magical kiss.

The End

Send suggestions and comments to ranma.
OR
If you would like to send a comment to Lorraine, click HERE!!