~MOUSE~
He wasn't just jealous.
He was furious.
It was a volatile concoction of possessiveness and insecurity that seeped through his every pore.
He had wanted her this whole time and he hated it.
And what he hated even more was that she had kept dancing away from him.
But it seemed Askel had been the last straw.
The heat of his jealousy radiated from him, an almost tangible force that set the room ablaze.
König's once-penetrating gaze had changed into raw, unbridled fury.
The air crackled with tension as Ophelia, unfazed by the storm brewing in his eyes, took measured steps toward him.
Her face, a canvas of composure, betrayed no emotion, resembling a finely crafted mask concealing the raging inferno of need inside.
She had no idea what she was doing. All she knew was that she needed to.
König as if recoiling from her stepped back until his back found the wall.
He was trapped with her, and she could see the panic claw its way over his anger.
As Ophelia closed the distance between them, her footsteps echoed with a measured cadence.
König's breaths came in sharp inhales as she got closer, his gaze never moving from her face.
Ophelia, now standing in front of him, locked eyes with him as she raised her chin defiantly.
He seemed to think this was her fault.
That she had started this.
But he had.
The first day he had fled from her like a little bird escaping the snapping jaws of a fox.
His blue eyes churned like water as he stared down at her.
Her gaze hardened like flint as stared into the maelstrom of his fury.
"Turn the light off," Ophelia uttered the words with a stiffness that hung heavy in the air, a command that cut through the room.
The man, taken aback by the abruptness of her request and the sharpness in her tone, blinked in confusion.
His eyes widened as he searched hers, seeking an explanation.
She didn't give him one.
Just stared at him with an empty expression.
Without a word, he reached for the switch, and with a decisive flick, the room succumbed to an inky blackness that swallowed every hint of light.
She was almost surprised that he had done it.
Had given in so easily.
Without the light, the room transformed into a cavern of shadows, where shapes dissolved into formless silhouettes.
Ophelia, shrouded in darkness, her features hidden from the man who moments ago had met her gaze with uncertainty.
She could feel the concrete floor beneath her, the tactile embrace of the darkness hugging them close.
In this lightless void, the boundaries between them blurred, and the world outside ceased to exist.
He, too, was now invisible to her, his presence a mere echo in the vast emptiness.
"Take the hood off," this time her voice was soft.
A caress in the darkness.
In the blackened void, she sensed rather than saw the man's compliance.
A rustle of fabric reached her ears as his hands moved upward, and the hood was lifted away from his face.
Ophelia felt the subtle disturbance of air as he lowered the hood, the fabric brushing against her arm.
As the hood fell into his hands, a heavy silence settled over the space.
Without allowing herself to hesitate, Ophelia extended her hand, her fingertips trembling with anticipation as they reached out to him.
As her hand drew closer, she felt a surge of electricity dance along her skin.
Her touch was hesitant at first, tentative as her fingers brushed against his scarred skin.
But as she felt the rough texture beneath her fingertips, something within her shifted, a sense of purpose guiding her movements.
With a newfound resolve, she allowed her fingers to trace over his strong, scarred hands, memorizing every contour and ridge.
As Ophelia's fingertips trailed from his hands over his arms, she felt the rough texture of his scars, each mark telling a story she didn't know.
Her breath hitched as she traced the lines of his scars, her touch igniting a fire within her that threatened to consume her whole.
She felt the tension in his muscles as her fingers danced along his skin, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he let her.
With every stroke of her fingertips, she felt him unravelling beneath her touch, his defences crumbling.
Her fingers gently trailed from his upper arm down to his palm so softly she felt his skin break out in little bumps.
She felt the heat between them intensify, a primal need driving them both to the brink of madness.
As she felt his breath hitch against her skin, she knew that she was teetering on the edge of something dangerous and intoxicating.
"This is a bad idea," he said quietly from above her but she could hear the strain in his voice as her hands gently moved upwards.
"Probably," she said as she let her hands explore in the dark.
Without his hood, she could hear him better, and it was strange to think about the man underneath it.
But she needed him.
Driven by an unbridled force, she reached out, her fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt.
With a swift and decisive action, she pulled him closer, feeling the heat emanating from his tall, muscled frame.
His body yielded to her command, descending towards her as if caught in a gravitational pull.
Without a moment's hesitation, she closed the remaining distance between them.
Their lips collided in a fervent collision of longing and intensity that sent shockwaves through her and pooled desire at her core.
The taste of alcohol lingered on her lips, merging with the taste of him, sandalwood, leather and sweet honey.
Ophelia, fuelled by the heady mix of alcohol and longing, explored the contours of his plump and soft lips with a raw intensity.
Her tongue traced a bold path across his bottom lip, an assertive invitation that shattered any remaining barriers between them.
A low, guttural groan, almost a whine, escaped from his chest, a primal response to her as she gripped his shirt and pulled him closer.
The sound reverberated in the silence, adding a layer of desire over her.
She really liked that noise.
She felt the spot between her thighs throb and dampen with need.
With a fiery determination, Ophelia pulled their bodies closer together, feeling his own arousal pressing into her stomach.
She knew he was big.
He was six-ten, and she wasn't even sure if she could take him.
But the pressure in her would not allow her to let him go.
His lean frame hovered over hers, hips slightly moving to press further into her.
He was desperate.
His strong hands wrapped around her, drawing her closer in a possessive embrace.
The sensation of his touch sent shivers down Ophelia's spine and made her moan softly.
His hands, exploring with a feverish hunger, traced the curve of her back, over her bare skin, tattoo and scar, leaving a trail of fire on her skin.
His protest was a stammered whisper, a feeble attempt to uphold the boundaries between them.
"I'm your Col-" But before he could finish, his words were devoured by the relentless hunger of Ophelia's mouth.
He didn't resist. Instead, he surrendered and fell into her.
As their mouths met again, he melted further into her, abandoning the constraints of reason and rank.
"Off duty," she breathed the words of a defiant declaration that severed the ties of duty and protocol.
Ophelia, emboldened by the intoxication of the moment, bit down on his lip and pulled it between her teeth.
This time, a loud moan escaped him, a symphony of pleasure that rumbled through his chest.
From where they clutched his shirt, her fingers slid down, tracing the contours of his body until they reached the hem of his pants.
"Ophelia..."
His voice, a quiet moan that carried the weight of both longing and hesitation, whispered her name like a fragile plea.
Any lingering restraint she had left snapped like a fragile thread.
With an urgency, Ophelia's hands worked to undo the barriers that stood between them.
The fabric of his pants yielded to her touch and he didn't stop her.
Instead, she heard his head fall against the wall roughly as his breathing grew ragged.
Her hand wrapped around the length of him and they both froze.
She felt all his muscles tense, his breathing stopping as his cock twitched in her hand.
She, on the other hand, had frozen because she had only just managed to get her hand around it.
She stroked gently, feeling veins and soft skin run over her palm.
His breath hitched at her movement, the quiet sound resonating like a scream around her.
She pumped a few more times, letting her hand get used to how he felt.
Gently she ran her fingertip up and over his tip.
He moaned loudly and she felt the hot burst of precum flowing over her palm the minute her finger traced over him.
Her eyes widened in surprise.
"Fuck. Don't stop," he said in a whine as he heaved above her.
He sounded a lot nicer when his hood wasn't on.
His accent was richer, less muffled.
She listened obediently and kept rubbing, moving faster, his cock twitching and throbbing in her hand as she moved.
He moaned loudly and she almost jumped in surprise as his hands fell onto her hips, large fingers digging into her skin as he moved against her hand.
Her finger ran over his tip again and another burst of precum dripped over her fingers.
"Ophelia," the room trembled with his loud moan, a guttural sound that reverberated from his chest to hers.
Ophelia, caught in the intoxicating sound couldn't help but smile.
It was a revelation, almost amusing, that a man so terrifying would yield so easily to her.
His massive frame seemed to quiver under her hand as she stroked him.
"You sound very pretty without your hood on," she purred, her words a silky caress that rose like smoke in the dimly lit room.
The impact of her praise seemed to ripple through him.
A physical reaction that manifested in the constricting of his chest, the expulsion of breath, and the tensing of his entire body.
Before she could understand why he stilled, she felt his cock twitch and harden as hot liquid spilt over her hands and hit her stomach.
Ophelia's mouth dropped open in shock.
He came.
A lot.
From a small amount of touch and words of praise.
She could feel his cum dripping down the curves of her stomach and from her hands.
The realization that he liked praise painted a sly smile on Ophelia's lips as she drew her hands away.
His response was immediate, a whine of need that echoed in the quiet as she moved away from him.
The vulnerability of the noise only intensified the intrigue that surrounded him.
"Nein, nein, nein, bitte komm zurück," he whispered, his words a desperate plea that hung in the air.
He reached out for her, hands slipping from her hips as she stepped back.
Dodging his hands with a playful finesse, she moved back a little further her smile growing as he stepped forward after her.
With a calculated grace, Ophelia sank to her knees in front of him.
The shift in her position carried a subtle power shift and he went still as he felt her move.
He couldn't see her. But she had a feeling he knew exactly what she was doing.
She could tell by the way he went still.
"You have the most handsome eyes," she murmured, the words carrying a weight of sincerity.
His response was an immediate sharp breath that reverberated in the stillness.
"They remind me of the ocean," she added, her voice a soft caress that hung in the air.
She could hear him taking ragged breaths, the rhythm of his inhales and exhales punctuating the air around her.
Her hands came up and touched him again.
He was hard already and Ophelia smiled as she realised her words had done that.
He groaned in relief when her hands fell back on him.
She could feel the pulse of need throbbing in his cock.
She began to move her hands slowly, in deep languid motions that made him make soft noises from the back of his throat.
The wet noise rang around the room as she pumped him purposefully slow.
His hands came nowhere near her as he let her do whatever she wanted.
"I like your hands," she added softly, feeling him throb under her hands.
Just her words were enough to make him cum again.
She was burning with need.
It ached inside her, begging to be fucked. But she wouldn't give it what it wanted.
She enjoyed teasing him too much.
"And I really like how tall you are, mon amour," she whispered as she sat forward her breath hitting his tip.
His moan was much louder this time and Ophelia knew she had hit his weak spot.
"More. Bitte, ich möchte, dass du mir mehr erzählst-" his words were a breathy deep moan that turned to silence as she smiled and placed her lips on his tip.
Without waiting she took him in her mouth, her tongue swirling around his tip, letting the salty sweet taste of his precum coat her lips.
She heard his head fall against the wall with a sharp crack but he didn't seem to care as deep moans filled the room.
She smiled as her hand pumped slowly, taking him deeper into her mouth.
She knew he was only halfway, but he already hit the back of her throat and made tears fill her eyes.
"Scheiße!" he yelled and this time he wound his hands around the back of her head grabbing the short strands of her hair and tugging harshly.
A high-pitched moan of her own rang out and she felt his cock twitch in her mouth as the sound reached his ears.
He was close.
He tugged roughly on her hair again making her moan louder.
"Fuck, I love that noise," his words were a deep groan that made her so wet she could feel it trailing down her thigh.
Moving faster she took him as far as she could, letting his cock pass her gag reflex and hit the back of her throat again and again as his moans ripped around her.
She loved that noise too.
His hips began to buck as she went faster, his hands digging into her hair and tugging so hard she felt her eyes roll in pleasure.
"Ophelia, I'm going to-" his hoarse words were cut off as she whined loudly at the feeling of his hands in her hair.
It was a high and pitifully needy sound that seemed to break something in him.
She felt him come undone in her throat.
His cock grew harder, going rigid and getting impossibly bigger before letting out a steady stream of cum in her mouth.
She swallowed it all, savouring the taste of him.
He slumped against the wall as she slowly moved away.
Standing on shaking legs, she wiped the saliva, cum and tears from her face.
She could hear the heavy cadence of his breath.
Ragged and uneven.
He loomed above her, a formidable presence resting against the wall.
Taking a tentative step forward, Ophelia frowned into the darkness.
His rough breathing persisted, not slowing down, only getting faster.
Concern coloured her voice as she began to walk towards him.
"Are you okay—"
Her words were abruptly cut off as soft lips crashed onto hers.
~~~~~~~~~~
TRANSLATIONS
German
"Nein, nein, nein, bitte komm zurück," - No, no, no, please come back.
"More. Bitte, ich möchte, dass du mir mehr erzählst-" More. Please, I want you to tell me more-