Chapter Text

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/ / / Chapter One / / /

The heels clicking down the corridor shouldn’t make his spine itch but he knows, just knows, who it is and that is what’s giving him the itchy feeling. He doesn’t wait for her to arrive in the bullpen, instead he strides ahead and heads her off, forcing them into a semi-private corridor.

Nick grabs her arm and pulls her close, ignoring the feeling of her soft skin, the way her eyes dilate slightly and how it makes his breath catch. That wasn’t why he was getting close to her.

“What are you doing here?”

She tries to pull her arm away but he doesn’t let her. “That’s none of your business.”

“I’m watching you,” he all but growls.

“Ooh kinky, detective,” she retorts, eyes narrowing in on him. “What does your kershite girlfriend think of that?”

“She’s got nothing to do with this. You leave her out of it.”

“You’re the one leaving her out by dragging me to you. Does that mean I’m the only one you want to watch?”

Nick’s fingers flexed against her as he felt his pulse jump. This was not the way this conversation was supposed to go.

“Does that mean I’m the one you want?” She whispers and whilst her voice is full of snark and antagonism there’s a flash of something else in her eyes; something vulnerable and needy. Something that pulls him in, as damning as that is.

“And what would you do if I was watching?” He asks, the devil on his shoulder taking over and making him voice the words.

Which is ironic as he’s asking them of a witch.

“What would you want to see?” She replies breathily.

His fingers flex on her arm, digging further into her skin and there’s a terrible part of him that wonders if he’s marking her. That wants to be marking her.

“What have you got to show?” His words are inane but it’s more than the words, it’s what they’re saying with their eyes and their bodies and everything that’s in the air between them.

“Everything you’ve ever wanted to see.”

“You’d give me everything?”

“Well, if you think you could handle it.”

“I think you’re all talk.”

Her eyes flash at that and suddenly her body is pressing against his. “You’re the one who’s always talking, never doing.”

He moves without thinking, using his body weight to shove her into the wall behind, his hands shooting up of their own accord, one grasping her hip and pinning her between him and the wall and the other clutching her chin and forcing her head back to the angle he suddenly wants. With her looking up at him and held by his hands, she’s under his control, almost subservient to him and it’s making his blood pound.

“And if I told you what to do? What then?”

“Would I be punished if I disobeyed?”

“Thoroughly.” He wants it to be sarcastic but he knows there’s truth to the word.

“Then I guess I better do whatever you tell me to,” she answers breathily. “Of course that means you’d actually have to command me - and mean it - and so far you’re a Grimm who’s all talk and little act-“

“Shut up and take it,” he snarls and then slams his lips against hers.

She gasps up into him and it gives him the opportunity to invade her mouth. There’s a voice yelling in the back of his mind, the words girlfriend and hexenbiest, enemy and madness, trying to break through, but the pounding of his blood is too loud. He battles her tongue and overwhelms her, teeth clashing into her lips as he dominates their kiss, though maybe kiss is too kind of a word for what he’s doing.

Her arms snake up his chest and try to grab onto him but he can’t have it be about them, this thing that he’s doing is about him taking her, showing her not to mess with him in this way, that he’ll take whatever she’s done and make her pay for it.

They say payback’s a bitch, but in his case it’s a witch and he’s going to get everything he’s owed.

His hands grab hers and force them behind her back, making her arch up into him, rub against him. She’s bowed against him now and her head wrenches back with a moan but it’s not one of pain. He clasps her hands in one of his, holding them tight against the small of her back and keeping her locked in position against him. His other hand grasps her chin and forces her head back down so their eyes meet.

“I said, take it,” He grates against her lips before forcing her mouth open with his tongue, seeking the wet heat and thrusting into it.

She mewls against him and the sound does nothing but ramp him higher whilst sending his blood pulsing lower. There’s nothing sane about his actions right now but there’s so much heat between them he can’t stop or even slow down. He has to see this through.

Somehow a rational whisper of thought that they’re in a corridor at his precinct breaks through but rather than deter him it just makes Nick move. He yanks her forward against him even more, than forces her to walk backwards as he propels her into a nearby cupboard. The door slams shut behind him and he relinquishes one hand from her to twist the lock sharply, the noise echoing over their laboured breathing.

Adalind is looking at him like she never has before; disbelief, lust, uncertainty, all crowded together in her eyes but he can’t find himself stopping to think.

“I want to see you.” His voice is like gravel, lower than it’s ever been he’s sure, but his hands are faster than they’ve ever been, gripping her shirt and pulling it, tearing it apart so he can see her skin. The lace bra she’s wearing is flattering but right now Nick hates it, it’s in his way, so he pushes it roughly down, pulling her breasts up and cupping them, thumbs rubbing over her nipples causing her to jerk and gasp. Her eyes close as she arches up into his touch and Nick hates the loss of connection immediately. One hand curls around her breast and then twists her nipple sharply as the other yanks her head forward by her hair. “I said, see you, don’t you dare close your eyes.”

She yelps at his actions but her eyes open again, luminous and dazed, and that’s all he cares about.

“I’m watching you,” he growls. “And I want to watch your mouth suck me off with these eyes open all the time as I make you take it.”

The words are obscene and there’s a part of him that’s horrified he’s even saying them let alone the fact he knows he’s about to make them happen. But he can’t stop. There’s a fever in his blood and it’s been building ever since he first saw Adalind, forced higher with every oppositional interaction since. She’s brought this on herself as much as he has.

“Get on your knees.”

She whimpers as she does so, her skirt probably pulling at her or maybe it’s her shirt bending her arms back but Nick can’t focus on the why when the sound does something to him, let alone the visual. His hands fumble on his belt and zip but he’s so hard he has to have release now.

She licks her lips and opens her mouth as he releases himself and then he’s inside the wet warmth of her and thinking stops altogether.

His hands delve into her hair and angle her head, making sure her eyes can look up at him and he moves, thrusting lightly into her.

This is the worst kind of objectification and control but there’s a part of him that needs it, that needs to do it to Adalind and he can’t look too closely at that right now, his brain is short circuiting with the pleasure of her mouth and tongue, of her eyes beseeching up at him and the way she’s doing exactly what he told her to do; just taking it.

His hips take over, thrusting harder and quicker into her mouth, his fingers flexing in their hold of her head. She keeps her gaze trained on him and moans around his dick filling her mouth and Nick’s never felt anything like it before, nothing this hot and intense and full of need. He feels his release racing down his spine and he just knows he’s going to make her choke on it.

He doesn’t warn her, can’t seem to make the words come, just squeezes her head slightly and pulls his hips back a little more before thrusting himself into her mouth harder, one last time, before erupting into her. She gags against him, her swallows and gasping against him prolonging his release.

Then he’s pulling her up, lips slanting against hers, licking at his come as he searches for her tongue whilst his hands grab her skirt, forcing it up so his fingers can delve between her legs. She’s wet when he finally finds her centre and he barely registers pulling her knickers aside so he can thrust his fingers in. He glides in easily she’s so drenched.

“God you liked that didn’t you?” he moans against her lips. “Taking it just turned you the fuck on didn’t it?”

“Taking it from you,” she whispers. “Only you. Nick-“

He growls at the sound of his name and kisses her hard, adding another finger and twisting inside her. She screams against his mouth but he can’t stop, burying his hand up to the knuckles in her heat, flexing and twisting and curving so he can feel all of her. When she clenches around him he just wants more. She jerks up and away from him but he has her in a tight hold and her body can go nowhere. Her head flings back and her eyes roll, staring sightlessly above as her orgasm overtakes her, Nick doing his best to prolong it as he thrusts his hand in and out of her, feeling her pull around his fingers as wet warmth covers his hand.

She’s heaving for breath as she comes down, her pulse beating erratically against her neck and Nick has to restrain himself from biting her there.

All the things that are wrong with what he just did, what they just did are whispering through his mind and he knows soon they’ll be shouts. But for a moment he gets to hold Adalind and watch as she re-centres herself and there’s something profound and connecting in that, something he can’t put a name or a feeling to but he knows she feels it too when she looks up at him and gulps.

He lowers his eyes over her dishevelled state and unbelievably finds himself reacting to her again, despite his epic orgasm of a few minutes ago. He tells himself not to do it but his hand reaches out and skims her still exposed breast, grinning when he flicks her nipple and she gasps.

She’s reacting to him as much as he’s reacting to her.

“Like I said, I’ll be watching you.”

It’s not the best of parting lines but his brain is still somewhere his body can’t find, his thoughts stuck on what just happened, the feel of Adalind’s skin, the way she clenched at his fingers, how she looked with his cock in her mouth, breasts exposed below. He needs to get out of there and re-align himself.

He grabs himself and stuffs his semi-erect dick back in his pants before swivelling for the door, doing his zipper up as he goes, knowing if he stays even a second longer he’s going to do something with his growing erection. The door slams shut behind him and he forces himself to move swiftly to the nearest bathroom.

Only when he’s washed his hands and looked up at himself in the mirror does he think - what the hell just happened?

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