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Sexpionage III

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Brick Lane, London.

Agent Anderson sat in her car waiting. She knew that the girl would be here. Despite picking an older pool car to be in, the young Agent still felt conspicuous out on her own in this part of London.

The girl sauntered up the road and Lacey couldn’t help but admire her. She was beautiful under it all, all the makeup, coloured hair and cheap, revealing clothes. The engine of the MI6 vehicle was switched on and it slowly moved down the road towards the oncoming prostitute.

01 - Towards the oncoming girl.jpeg

“What you after honey?” The girl said into the window of Lacey’s car. Male or female it was all the same … all customers … all money.

Leaning over as the window wound slowly down, the girl’s eyes widened when she saw the ID.

“Oh, fuck off.” She muttered.

“I just want to talk.” Lacey said quickly holding out the fistful of twenty pound notes she knew would get her attention. “And I’ll pay.” She saw now how very young the girl really was, nineteen maybe twenty at a push.

“Urgh whatever.” The prostitute muttered opening the door and climbing in. “Drive then. You’re paying so you might as well act like a punter.”

Lacey smirked. “Tell me where to pull over.” She said as she pulled away.

“Just here. This is my usual spot.” The girl muttered, folding her arms across her chest and scowling.

“Okay, so your boss …”

“My pimp you mean.” The girl cut across her.

“Whatever you want to call him. We just need info. We know he’s running a whole load of girls and a lot of you aren’t even of legal age, and we also know which organisation he belongs to …”

“Like you give a shit. It’s our bodies, we can do what we want, thanks,” the girl muttered before looking around to see if anyone was nearby, watching.

“Oh, I agree Dani but how much do you like handing over what you earn to him? And how much do you like his beatings too?”

“You know my name?”

“’Course I do, we know you’re new to this patch too, maybe even new to this whole game,” Lacey replied.

“Oh, just fuck off.” Dani muttered.

“Look I’m not here to judge you, like you said I don’t give a shit what you do but I do give a shit about your pimp, Markus. He’s been trafficking girls for a long time. Some of them are far too young to know what sex is let alone be deciding to sell themselves.”

“What do you want from me?” Dani asked narrowing her eyes.

“I just want info. Markus must be keeping these girls somewhere. Where is it?” Lacey replied.

“Like I know that.”

“Can you find out?”

“What, you want me to just go and ask him? Sure, that’ll end well. Me in a fucking ditch.” Dani stated and she looked around again as if to reassure herself that no one was there.

“Is there any way you can find out? Carefully I mean?”

“What’s in it for me?” Dani asked back.

“What do you want?”

The girl shrugged. “Maybe I want out.” She muttered.

“I can help you. I can get you out if you want that.” Lacey said. Dani rolled her eyes.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She stated.

“I mean it Dani, if that’s really what you want then I can help you but you have to help me too.”

“Let me think about it.” She muttered glancing around again and her eyes widened in horror.

“What is it?” Lacey asked seeing her face.

“Undo your pants. Quickly.” Dani said and Lacey’s jaw dropped.


“He’s here you idiot.” The girl hissed grabbing at Lacey’s jeans and yanking them open so that she could slide her hand down inside and into Lacey’s panties.

“At least act like you’re enjoying it.” She muttered as Lacey grabbed her wrist.

“What the fuck is this?” A man’s voice hissed as he rounded on the car and then his eyes fell on Lacey’s crotch. “Woah.”

“Fuck off Markus, can’t you see we’re busy?” Dani said with a smirk and Lacey literally couldn’t look at either of them.

“Well, isn’t this hot?” Markus said stepping back.

“Please … just fuck off, you’ll get your money.” Dani snapped and thank God the man backed away.

“Well, that was something.” Lacey muttered once she realised, Markus had gone.

“Something to sweeten the deal. I’ll get you what you want but you better deliver too.” Dani stated yanking her wet and sticky hand back out before getting out of the car making sure to grab the bunch of notes as she went.

Fuck me, Lacey thought she actually did … inside me … fuck! Squirming, she refastened her jeans and quickly drove away.

To be Continued …

Roger Moore’s London Apartment, Vauxhall, London

Roger Moore was in the living room when Lacey, having gained access via the keypad … yes, she knew the code, walked in.

“I thought you might still be working, looks like I was right?” The young Agent said as she walked in seeing him sitting, phone in hand sipping a glass of wine.

“We still have an Agent missing Lacey.” He said as if trying to justify why he could not simply stop working when the clock struck 5pm.

“You okay?” She asked.

“Just a lot going on.” He said before running his eyes over her.

“Come here.” He added with a grin.

“I feel dirty, I need a shower” She said and he laughed.

“I like you dirty Lacey.” She rolled her eyes and sat down across from him.

“What?” He asked because he could see she was acting a little strangely.

“What’s the strangest thing that’s ever happened to you at work?” Lacey replied and Moore frowned.

“In what respect?”

“Anything. What comes to mind?” She said.

The Head of MI6 let out a long breath clearly thinking.

“I fucked my submissive mistress across the desk in my office at HQ …” He grinned and Lacey laughed.

Lacey smirked, seeing how his eyes ogled her whilst she stood looking down at him.

02- Ogled her.jpeg

“Why are you asking, anyway?” Moore asked.

The young Agent hesitated.

“What happened to you Lacey?” He asked issuing more of a command than a question.

“An informant shoved her hand inside my jeans.” She said quickly and Moore narrowed his eyes.

“What?” He snapped and Lacey heard it, the possessiveness, the domineering arsehole side of Moore coming out.

“It wasn’t sexual. It was a cover. She’s a sex worker, one of the girls down at Brick Lane. Her pimp turned up and she needed to act like I was a customer.” Lacey stated.

“So, you let her shove her hand…”

“It wasn’t a case of letting her. It just happened.”

Moore stood up. “You are dirty Lacey. Very dirty.” He stated and she smirked slightly which was exactly the reaction he was looking for.

He grabbed her arm and yanked her into the bathroom, before shoving the startled young girl into the shower. When he turned the water onto full flow gasped as the freezing cold shower rushed over her.

“Fuck Roger, I’m still fully clothed.” She said and his eyes flashed dangerously.

“Strip. Now.” He ordered and she shook her head at him disbelievingly before starting to undo her top.

“Too slow.” He growled yanking at the white fabric and ripping it so that the buttons pinged everywhere. He grabbed at the fastenings of her jeans next, pulling the tight denim apart and ordering Lacey out of them, drenching himself as she attempted to obey.

“Roger, you’re being ridiculous.” She said as the water splashed all over them them.

“I fucking am not.” He snapped shoving her back towards the glistening tiles so that he could get in too.

“Roger you’re still dressed.” She cried, half wanting to laugh but not wanting to goad him any further. He undid his belt tossing it back onto the now flooded floor and then yanked his clothes off. She stared at him. He was all domineering male now, all raging man. The testosterone was literally oozing off of him.

“Fuck … Roger ... Sir” Lacey gasped running her eyes over him. He looked like he was going to rip the tiles from the wall, smash the room to pieces, and then devour her over the resulting carnage, and he was hard, so damn hard!

He grabbed her waist, lifting his Agent up, impaling her onto his cock as, without ceremony or foreplay, he rammed home, splitting her, filling her.

“Fuuuuuuck.” She cried out, wrapping her legs around him and digging her nails into his back not caring if she hurt him, wanting to hurt him, wanting him to feel it.

Moore growled, one hand pinning her against him and the other yanking her head back by her hair. “You’re mine Lacey Anderson. Mine to touch. Mine to fuck. Not anyone else’s.” He stated and she let out a deep almost guttural moan.

“Say it.” He ordered.

“Roger please.” She gasped. His cock was pounding so hard into her she was actually losing her focus.

“Say it, Lacey.” He ordered again, yanking her hair, pulling her head backwards so that it felt like her neck might snap.

“I’m yours Roger.” She gasped out. The water was pouring over them, drenching them. She was still wearing her bra, and suddenly she wanted it off, she reached round, unhooking it and he growled again, his hand leaving her hair to rip the bra from her grasp, before he pinched one of her nipples so hard that she convulsed against him.

“This is mine.” He stated before biting it and she cried out.

“This is mine.” He said grabbing her ass and digging his nails into her skin. He pounded her pussy over and over and she threw her head back, relishing every second, every moment he was dominating her.

Moore groaned loudly, filling her with his seed as he came and then he pulled himself out, yanking her legs down and turned her around before pinning her back against the tiles.

“You are mine. All of you.” He said running his hand down to her clit, causing her to push back, grinding into his touch.

“I’m yours Roger.” She gasped as his hands flicked against her clit and she began to ride his fingers.

“Fuck sir, please don’t stop.” Lacey cried, as he plunged his fingers into her slit, pushing as hard and as deep as he could.

She cried out even more loudly.

“This is mine too Lacey. All of you. Every inch. Every moment. Every time you cum, it’s for me.” He stated and she nodded, shutting her eyes, not wanting it to end as he curled his fingers over and over inside her.

“That feels incredible ... Sir.” She gasped into the tiles.

“Cum for me Lacey. Come like you always do. Like I want you to. Like the bad, dirty girl that you are.”

His words were hers to obey, and she shuddered as the climax began to burst through her. She moaned, grabbing at his wrist, holding his hand as she screamed and he bit into her shoulder, marking her, rubbing her harder, as she writhed against him.

And Grace Miller was still missing …

To Be Continued …
Uhhh … Roger is a force to be reckoned with for young women. He’s forceful and insatiable. Gets what he wants without preamble or pretense. And …. Oh the orgasm that follows. Priceless.

Barbara Moore is busy taking notes just in case she ever meets up with him.

Uhhh … Roger is a force to be reckoned with for young women. He’s forceful and insatiable. Gets what he wants without preamble or pretense. And …. Oh the orgasm that follows. Priceless.

Barbara Moore is busy taking notes just in case she ever meets up with him.

An image to conjure with, Barb bending naked over his desk and being seen to by Roger, after he has given her a dozen of the very best. Is she loving or hating it?
An image to conjure with, Barb bending naked over his desk and being seen to by Roger, after he has given her a dozen of the very best. Is she loving or hating it?

As I said and it's not only me to yearn for ... B. Moore will be soon guest on 'On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969)'? Lacey hope you can share your boss a little bit.

SIS HQ, Vauxhall, London, and an old, abandoned warehouse in the Nieuw-West district of Amsterdam

“Send them in, now!” managing operations from HQ Roger Moore issued his order, and the agents on the screen before him moved immediately.

They’d sent a full tactical team, all armed, wearing bullet proof vests and Kevlar. They weren’t taking any chances.

Major Jason Underwood watched the lead agent as he smashed the door in and made his way down the steps. Their hiding place had been obvious, yet so hard to trace, and if it hadn’t been for Grace’s clue, they’d never have found it.

Shots fired almost immediately. The special ops team shot back neutralising the attack. More shots rang out and the team returned fire. Suddenly it became a shootout but the agents had one key advantage, they wore protective gear.

“Fuck.” Roger Moore muttered as he watched it unfolding and saw one by one as the targets dropped.

“Get a fucking medic ready.” He ordered to the team stood around him. “Make sure they’ve got a fucking medic out there with them.”

The agents moved on, clearing through the warehouse, it was dark, someone had cut the lights and so they switched head cams to night vision, before splitting off ... five going one way and five the other.

Jason’s eyes were flitting from one of the leads to the other as gradually they cleared the whole space.

“She’s not here.” A voice said and Jason cursed

“They’ve not searched everywhere yet.” Roger Moore spoke into the mic, as he watched agents milling around, yanking open doors and searching what looked like old offices, old cupboards, old storage rooms, all empty and devoid of life.

Then …

“Agent found.” The voice was loud and clear, and Jason turned to face the direction of the words.

Grace was there, for Jase to see, and on camera for the guys back at HQ.

The sack was pulled from her head, and Special Agent Miller was visible, clearly unconscious, dirty, naked, curled up in a foetal ball.

03 - Dirty, naked, curled up.jpeg

The medic (of course the team had a medic with them) rushed over, got on his knees and felt Grace’s wrist.

“She’s alive, but the pulse is slow.”

Jason held his breath as Grace’s body was covered by a silver emergency blanket. The medic shone a light in her eyes and then opened her mouth, her vitals were checked.

He muttered something, frowning, and Jason heard the word ‘drugged’.

“Get her in the chopper and to the fucking Wellington … NOW!”

Jason issued his orders with a desperate assertion. He wasn’t going to lose her, no fucking way!

“We’ll meet them there.” Jason said walking out because he couldn’t stand waiting, couldn’t stand there just doing nothing.

Back at HQ Moore sat on the edge of his desk, head bowed, breathing a huge sigh of relief as high-fives were being offered and taken all around him.

The Wellington Private Hospital, St John’s Wood, London.

Roger Moore saw Jason pacing outside the private hospital room as he approached. Agents were guarding the entrance and exits, even though they had commandeered a whole row on Ward 6 of this private hospital. No one was getting in or out without their say so

“Any news?” Moore asked.

“Nothing yet.” Jason replied.

“She’s alive though.” Moore stated and Jason grunted back. The door opened and a doctor walked out blinking as he came face to face with them both.

“Well?” Jason snapped.

“She’s still unconscious. She’s got some nasty breaks to her fingers, she’s been beaten pretty badly and starved so we’ve put her on a drip to get her vitals up. We’ve tested her with a rape kit ….”

Jason nodded, not wanting to hear this, but knowing …

“And?” Moore asked not looking at his operative.

“She’s almost certainly been sexually assaulted.”

Jason cried out, turning and punching his fist into the wall.

“For fuck’s sake Jason.” Moore muttered and Jason glared at him.

“Anything else?” Moore asked.

“We did a full toxicology screen and she tested positive… we found heroine in her blood.” He stated but Jason wasn’t listening, he was still trying to keep it together, to not start smashing everything within reach.

“Jason.” Moore said taking the chart from the man.

“What?” He half snarled looking at him.

Moore was holding the chart up and Jason frowned seeing the words. He looked at Moore then, narrowing his eyes.

“They drugged her?”

“Yes, they did.”

“When can I see her?” Jason asked.

“Not yet. She needs to rest. When she’s awake then … maybe.” The doctor replied, and Jason slowly nodded. As the white coated man walked away from them, Jason sat down, his mind racing.

“Jason?” Moore said quietly sitting next to him. “You need to calm down, we will get these bastards.”

The major nodded, “And when we do, I’m going to personally slaughter every last one of them!”

To be Continued …
“Jason?” Moore said quietly sitting next to him. “You need to calm down, we will get these bastards.”

Oh, not the end of this episode. The birds have flown. Great, @Fossy. 'Tomorrow Never Dies (1997)'

P.S.: I hope on a short scene with FBI Special Agent B. Moore. Modest or sexy ... it's up to you, @Fossy. Or ... wait ... is she ... is she ... No! ... still in the hands of these bad guys. You fiendish old friend! You will not do that! ... Jason! Action!
Sexy Grace, looks so lovely on her leash, there, @Fossy, perhaps she should remain chained as part of her Cure from Jonesing for the Man?

Perhaps Jason will need to whip her, to help cope with the cravings…?

Poor Grace, now she really must suffer. For Whitehall. Yes, Suffer! For God, Queen and Country!
Sexy Grace, looks so lovely on her leash, there, @Fossy, perhaps she should remain chained as part of her Cure from Jonesing for the Man?

Perhaps Jason will need to whip her, to help cope with the cravings…?

Poor Grace, now she really must suffer. For Whitehall. Yes, Suffer! For God, Queen and Country!
Just in case the Antipodes haven't heard yet, we have a King now!

(Don't worry, when I pay my taxes to His Majesty's Revenue & Customs, I'm going to bugger them up by writing the cheque to 'The Queen')

The Wellington Private Hospital, St John’s Wood, London.

Grace opened her eyes, feeling the grogginess and the pain but most of all it was the all-consuming need for more of something than overwhelmed her. She looked around seeing the sterile room and knew immediately where she was.

‘They’ had found her, but she was no longer in that place. Those bastards, that bastard, no longer had her. Special Agent Miller tried to sit up and a hand gently pushed her back. A machine was beeping.

Loudly. Constantly. It was driving her nuts.

Several long white coats were there and looking over her chart, talking in low whispers, discussing her like she wasn’t in the room with them. Grace saw them glance at her and she narrowed her eyes.

Then she lip-read the word. “Drugged,” and Grace snarled then. A nurse left the room and came back minutes later and the Special Agent knew exactly what was in her hands.

“No.” Grace shouted loudly and they all looked at her. One of the medics started to argue, to try to reason, and she yelled at them too. “No. Fuck off, I’m not taking that!”

They exchanged glances and one of them stepped nearer, trying to be reassuring and the Agent shook her head. “No.”

“If you refuse the Naltrexone treatment then we won’t have any choice …” He said, and Grace knew that meant they would have to revert to NSS-2 electrical stimulation.

“I said no.” Grace’s voice was more pleading more desperate.

Then she screamed as the door banged open and he was there. Jason.

She looked from them to him swallowing. He knew. She could see it. He fucking knew. She shook her head, trying to control herself, trying to control her emotions but it did no good. The need was there, right there and it was taking over everything and making her sick.

The lead doctor said something to him and Jason nodded before looking back at her. She shook her head before he could speak. “Grace.” He said loudly, trying to take control and she yelled then.

“No. I’m not doing it. I won’t do it. I won’t let you.” She yelled looking from her man to the bunch of other people crowding the room.

“Give us a minute.” Jason said to the medics and they left quickly, like they didn’t want to be there at all. He walked over to the bed and Grace moved fast, pulling her legs up, pulling herself away from him. He frowned, unsure if she was scared of him because of what she’d been through or simply scared that he might somehow force the medicine into her.

“You have to take this medicine Grace.” He said.

“No, I don’t.” She replied.

She didn’t want the medicine … she wanted a fix!

CrossFit Gym, Central London

Agent Anderson’s phone buzzed and she pulled it out frowning at the unknown number.

04 - Agent Anderson’s phone buzzed .jpeg

“Hello?” She said picking it up.

“You said you would help me,” the voice hissed down the line.

“Who is this?” Lacey replied.

“You have to help me.”


“Help me please!” The voice sounded ever more desperate.

“Where are you?” The MI6 Agent asked running back through the Crossfit gym to her locker. She was still in her workout gear, sweaty and in desperate need of a shower.

“Please. He’s going to kill me.” Dani cried.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me where you are.” Lacey snapped back as she slammed the door shut behind her.

“I’m at the house. The one where we work, where I showed you. I’m on my own and he’s here. With people. Markus, he’s going to kill me.” The frightened cry was despairing, and Lacey heard a door slam in the background before Dani then screamed louder than Grace had ever heard before.

“I’m coming, Dani. Hold on.”

Sprinting out into the street Lacey jumped into a black cab, all too keen to stop for a slim blonde dressed in nothing but her tight work out gear.

“I’m coming Dani.” She shouted into the phone, before adding for the driver’s benefit, “Whitechapel please, actually Brick Lane if you could.”

With his eyes seemingly fixed on his rear-view mirror and a smirk on his face, the cab driver wasn’t asking questions.

It took twenty minutes to travel the three miles … too long but there was no quicker way. Even the underground route was tortuous.

Where was Jason? She’s called him but knew that he was only half focused on work with Grace still being in such a bad way.

Given the mistake she’d made less than a year ago, becoming inadvertently involved in the bombing at Whitehall, she was going to do this by the book.

“Is she in there?” Jason said running up to her having appeared from the opposite end of the street.

“Yes, I believe so, but her phone is dead now, and so …”

“Shit,” Jason replied, “So, what do you want to do Agent Anderson?” Jason Asked unable to stop his eyes from running the length of her entirely inappropriately clad body, as two other Agents ran up to them.

They were barely metres from the door now and yet it seemed so quiet inside. Eerily quiet.

“We have to go in. Dani said they were going to kill her.”

“Fine. I’ll call it in now.” Jason said.

“You two go round the back. I will go through the front …”

“What about me?”

Jason smiled a sardonic smile and said, “Well unless you intend putting these bastards through their personal fitness routines, I suggest you stay outside …”

Seeing the hurt look on Lacey’s face, he then added, “But you did really well Agent Anderson, good work.”

Her heart soared a little.

The door was already un-locked. Jason barged in and ran through to the back of the house, where he met one of the other Agents. The other quickly joined them as he clambered down the stairs.

“It’s empty … they’re gone.”

To Be Continued …

The Wellington Private Hospital, St John’s Wood, London.

05 - Grace looked at her colleague and lover.jpeg

“You’re an addict.” He said and Grace shook her head again. He could see the tears then, not falling, not running down her cheeks but they were there in her eyes.

“I’m not. Not like that.” She said and Jason rolled his eyes.

“Then what is it?” He snapped, his anger suddenly back because Grace’s words made no sense.

She shut her eyes to try to block the emotions, try to somehow get some logic into her thoughts, but also some courage because she knew she’d have to trust him now, to reveal a broken, fractured part of herself, and pray that he didn’t reject her.

“They did this to me before, in Albania, and they did it again … in the warehouse. It’s what they do to get me to talk, make me dependant.” She said quietly.

Jase nodded but his face was still hard.

“That stuff, what it does to you, the need it creates. It makes you reliant, it makes you care about nothing else but your next hit. That’s all your focus. All your concerns. That’s what they did to me, what they wanted me to be. They tried to manipulate me into giving information in return for more heroin.”

“And did it work?” He asked and she swallowed hard...

“Sort of. Something. Nothing of consequence, but I did.” Grace said looking away then. She still felt the shame, still felt the guilt even though she knew she’d not really had a choice. Everyone talked eventually. Everyone broke. That was the unspoken truth about torture, it always worked in the end.

“What did you actually tell them Grace?”

“Only that … that … we had an ongoing programme called ‘Shelter’, which they already knew, I was just confirming it.”

“And what else …”

“That it took in activities in London, Amsterdam and Albania.”

Jason nodded. “Did you give any names?”

“N… no, you rescued me before they could break me anymore.”

Jason took her in his arms and held her tightly, but Grace could not respond in a like manner.

“I just want you back baby.” He whispered.

“I know and want to be fully in control of myself so that I can come back to you.’

Jason moved her away from him until their eyes met.

“Is that why you won’t have the medicine now?” He asked.

Grace nodded. “That stuff is designed for addicts, real addicts. It brings you down slowly, but I’m not willing to do that. I don’t want to come down slowly. I don’t want to wean my body off it, I want it gone. I’ve never intentionally allowed that poison in me and I won’t start now. I want it out of me and I want to get control back over myself.”

“What do you mean get control back over yourself?”

“That need, the hunger it creates in you is like some monster that takes over. It takes away all your control, it feeds on you. It makes you into a slave. I have to stop it. I have to cut it out and the only way I can do that is my way.”

Jason took a deep breath, before Grace continued.

“Please don’t let them do it. Don’t let them put that stuff, the Naltrexone, in me.” She begged.

He narrowed his eyes giving her a hard look and she swallowed feeling suddenly alarmed, afraid of his reaction. He walked out of the room and she sat there, on the bed, staring, wanting to get up, wanting to follow him and fight her corner but too scared to do so.

She heard him talking, low, quietly with someone on the other side of the door and she clutched her chest, her heart was racing, and the need was getting worse, and not knowing if they would leave her to her own cold turkey was making it worse, was dragging out the torture.

Her lover and colleague walked back in followed almost immediately by a nurse and Special Agent Miller’s eyes flittered from one to the other. The nurse looked to Jason then moved to where the saline line was hanging.

“No.” Grace yelled. Fuck. She had said all that to Jason and they were doing what they wanted anyway, her words hadn’t mattered at all. He hadn’t listened, hadn’t believed her, he was letting them drug her with an opiate substitute and a smaller fix of H, allowing them to keep her hooked, bring her off slowly.

“It’s okay.” Jason said and she shook her head.

“Please don’t let them do this.” She begged, hearing how pathetic and weak she sounded.

Fucking hell Grace, she thought, because she’d fallen so low.

“It’s okay Grace.” Jase spoke forcefully and she raised her arms to lash out, to push the nurse away but he stepped in front, holding her back.

“Stop. Listen to me.” He ordered and she shut her eyes, trying to shut him out even as he gripped her arms. “We are doing this your way.” He said and she frowned looking at him in disbelief.

“What?” She gasped.

“We’re doing it your way.” He repeated and she felt the tears suddenly falling and she couldn’t tell if they were from relief that they were allowing her this, or from the fact that he trusted her. The nurse moved around, turning the machines off so that they no longer beeped. She left the saline drip in and then she left.

Grace looked up at her colleague and her lover. Her heart was thumping louder than ever and she shivered slightly.

“Here,” he said, gently pulling the blankets up over her.

“It’s not from the cold.” She said quietly. The withdrawal was kicking in fast now. The need was there growing inside her. He frowned before kicking his shoes off and pulling a chair up right beside her bed.

“What are you…?” She began but she fell silent not sure what to say.

“We’ll do this together.” Jason could see her whole body shaking and he hoped to god she was right about this.

To Be Continued …
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