TITLE: Intoxicated
AUTHOR: Lilith
FANDOM: Pitch Black
PAIRING: Riddick/OFC
RATING: NC-17 for graphical sexual situations, BDSM themes
SUMMARY: Riddick deals with a new kind of fear... a woman is becoming quite bothersome. Why? You find out on your own.
DISCLAIMER: The Characters of Pitch Black are copyright to USA Films. There is no infringment intended by the use of them in this story. I claim none of those characters.
For the first time since his boyhood, Riddick was afraid. He stood in
the shadows, nursing a bottle of beer, focusing on the source of his discomfort
as she worked behind the bar. Cait was spirited; little could intimidate
her, yet next to Riddick she was physically fragile and no match for his
strength. But, as she looked up and her soft, welcoming smile greeted
his shaded eyes, he knew he could never harm her. She was his, totally
and utterly his, and he was damned if he was going to relinquish the one
thing that he truly owned in his life.
Fuck! Fuck! This wasn’t meant to happen. All he’d wanted was a
bed, a bath and some hot food and sex – just for a couple nights. He’d
only needed a short respite from the continuous pursuit by bounty-hungry
mercs. He’d seen Cait and known that she could provide it. Like every
other male in that bar, he had been taken by the shortness of her skirt
and the tightness of her top that held an ample bosom. He grinned inwardly
at the thought. How he loved to release those breasts from their confinement.
A fine strand came loose from her French pleated hair. She hooked it back
behind her ear with her little finger. As he watched, his mind drifted.
Riddick closed his eyes and once again he could feel her soft, warm mouth
enveloping his manhood. His hands slowly undressed her hair pin by pin,
until a mass of silky, brown locks swathed his stomach and thighs and
brushed against his skin, electrifying his senses. Cait’s probing tongue
and taut, eager lips drew his eyes closed on his contorted face, bringing
a deep, dark rumble from his chest until he could hold his essence no
more. He had been to whore houses, he had been with other women, but no
one – no – no one had given him such pleasure as she had – ever.
Riddick opened his eyes. He had become lost in time. Shit! Never let
your guard down, never! Yet again he had become intoxicated by thoughts
of Cait. His eyes narrowed behind the darkened lenses and his lips tightened
in irritation. She must be a witch, a sorceress. She must have put a spell
on him – a trickeration. There could be no other explanation for these
lapses. There could be no other reason for him hanging around the same
place for weeks, risking his liberty. He was too sharp for that, wasn’t
he?
Cait weaved through the crowd towards him and, with a beckoning look in
her eyes, replaced the empty bottle in his hand with a full one. As her
fine boned hand lingered over his, he could feel her desire for him and
– despite the throng in the rough, dingy bar – he could pick out her womanly
scent. Yes, she was wet; she was ready for him. It would not be long now
until they were back at her place, once again engaged in their erotic
ritual.
He remembered the first time it happened; the first time
he’d truly possessed her. It was not at all like the previous nights when
he just fucked her. This was different – very different. His mind drifted
back to that night.
She had arrived home from work in the dead of night. As she entered the
living room, her hand reached for the light switch.
“No,” he said from the armchair.
Her hand stopped.
“Come closer…”
She moved towards him.
“Stop.”
She stood about three feet away, quiet and subdued.
“Undress.”
Again she obliged, slowly peeling off her clothes until she was naked
before him. He removed his shades so that he could gaze upon her in the
darkness with iridescent eyes.
“Kneel.”
Cait went to her knees, resting back onto her heels. He noticed how her
breathing changed; it was slow and measured. He looked to her face and
couldn’t believe it. She was in a trance. Her liquid brown eyes were glazed
and dilated, her angelic features almost expressionless. He sat and watched
for what seemed like forever. She did not move.
Riddick took his shiv and leaned towards her, his tongue sliding out and
wetting his lips. He traced the tip of the fine blade under her chin.
Still she did not move. He ran the blade down her body, her skin chilling
in its wake; close enough to pose a threat, but light enough not to pierce.
And still the trance wasn’t broken. Riddick paused the shiv at her hip,
staring at her dilated pupils and frozen mouth. He increased the pressure
of the blade until her skin gave away beneath it. She inhaled sharply
at the pain, but again she remained at his mercy.
Riddick sat back and creased his brow in wonderment, his silvery eyes
catching the faintest shards of light as he scanned Cait’s petite, yet
curvaceous body. Then triumphant smile broke across his face as he realised.
Her whole world had shrunk down to him; the only sound she heard was his
voice; the only thing she saw was him. She had given him total control
over her. Never before had he experienced such power over another human
being. The feeling was good, it was powerful, it was intoxicating. It
was only surpassed by the sweet release that her body gave him. He eased
her to her feet and drew her close, his lips sealing the spot where his
shiv had broken her buttery skin.
That night she was truly his.