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Court only prayed that Zack knew what a locked door meant.
Zoya even tested the lock to make sure it would stay, and Court listened hard for Zack to use his lock picks, or knock, or interrupt them in some way. But nothing happened, and Zoya gave him a small smile. "Worried someone will come in?"
"Of course. Zack has a habit of interrupting.. a lot of things." Court returned her smile. "But I think he's a little scared of you."
Her head came up. Proud. "He should be."
Court felt that right in his gut. "He should be," he agreed, hoping his voice sounded as appreciative as his body obviously was, hampered as he was by his broken left hand and bruised ribs. "I'm not sure if he's scared enough to not interrupt, though."
She considered, looking at him where he sat on the bed next to her, her cross-legged on one side, him with his back against the headboard on the other. "Maybe we should just be very quiet."
Court met her eyes, saw the challenge there. He lowered his voice. "I can do that. Can you?"
"Are you saying you think you can make sure I can't?"
"Maybe. We'd have to see." He waved his bandaged left hand and wrist. "I'm operating at a disadvantage, tonight."
Zoya ran a hand through his shower-wet hair and down to his neck. "You think you need both hands for this?"
He leaned into her touch. "Probably not."
She kissed him, scooting so she was leaning on his right side, under his good arm. Court angled his head, returning her kiss, opening for her when she licked along his mouth. He clenched his right hand where it lay on her shoulder to keep from groaning, heaving a breath with his nose.
He felt her smile into the kiss and pull away, Court automatically chasing her mouth with his.
"Off," she said in a whisper, gesturing to his t-shirt and sweats. Court obeyed, careful of his injuries, and tossed his clothes on the floor, getting back to his previous spot fast enough to watch Zoya get out of her sports bra and underwear, hearing his breathing speed up as more of her lean, acrobatic body was bared.
She got back onto the bed and folded herself under his good arm again, both of them sighing a little at the contact. Court ran his hand over her back, tracing her shoulder with his fingertips, pulling her a little closer so he could feel her again his chest. He ran his tongue over her lower lip, then had to move his left hand to keep from making noise when she sucked his tongue. Court let her hands get bolder, kissing her with everything he had, only pulling away when she used her finger tips to stroke his inner thighs and cock so he could hiss out of his nose, mouth shut.
"Jesus, Z," Court said, still as quietly as he dared, kissing her neck and shoulder. He looked back up into her eyes. "Can I-"
"Can you what?" she asked, so quietly the words mixed with their shared heavy breathing, her hands roving around his chest, tracing scars.
"Let me go down on you, please," he said. Paused. Added, "please."
Zoya kissed him and said, "On the floor, your knees aren't broken."
Court was on his knees on the side of the bed so quickly he wondered if Zoya thought he might have practiced the movement.
"Come here," he whispered, gesturing with his good hand for her to come to the edge of the bed. "We didn't have much room, in the closet that time," he added, watching her watch him on from his spot on the floor.
She lifted herself up and tossed herself the small distance, landing on the edge, spreading her legs so Court was framed between them. With her left foot, she pushed his shoulder, directing him to come as close as he could.
Court put his face into her right thigh, eyes closed, trying not to come on the spot, his whole field of vision nothing but soft, gleaming folds and curls of brunette hair. He mouthed "fuck" into her skin and heard her laugh softly above him.
One of her hands threaded itself into his hair, tugged gently. "We do have to sleep eventually," she said.
Court looked up at her from where he had been pressed into her silky thigh, wondering if he looked as desperate as he felt. Without another word, he got his right arm over her hip, thumbing over her hip bone, and bent his head, his mouth tracing every layer of her, breathing her in.
The hand in his hair clenched once as he traced her clit, then relaxed. He risked another peek up at her, and Zoya had her other hand over her own mouth, meeting Court's gaze briefly before nudging his head with her knee.
Court ducked his head back down, kissing her clit (another half clench) and licking slowly up and down every inch, dipping his tongue into her and sighing at the taste, feeling her thigh muscles tighten under his arm.
Another dip in, a little deeper this time, and then he concentrated on her clit, kissing and licking in circles, changing directions, all the while feeling her thighs closing around him and hearing the muffled sounds she was making behind her hand. Her hips were shifting, trying to buck against his tongue and lips, and he picked his right arm up to she'd have more freedom to move, fingers following his tongue to caress her and then leaving damp traces on her inner thigh.
Her thighs pressed hard on both of his shoulders, the hand in his hair now leverage for her to move the rest of her body, restless against his tongue. His chin and neck were covered in saliva and Zoya, but he doesn't move to wipe anything off as he pulled away to ask her, "What do you need?"
Her hips shifted again, rucking up the bed sheet. "Keep going, let me have something to ride."
Court started back up, letting his fingers follow his tongue until they were soaked, then slid two into her, tongue back to trace her clit as he thrust into her slowly, utilizing every decade of training to not moan as he felt her flutter around his fingers. He felt a droplet leak out of his dick and shifted his hips.
"Court—" she whispered, grabbing his hair hard and meeting his mouth and tongue, eyes clenched shut. He matched her pace with his hand and tongue and felt her get tighter and tighter around him, every shift of his hand and her hips making his dick pulse between his legs.
She ground against him, a whine caught behind her hand, and he went still, let her use him as she bucked once, twice against his tongue and shuddered, thighs squeezing Court so hard he thought he might fold in half. All around him, she trembled, his fingers cataloging every internal clench and release, kissing her clit as she folded over him, cheek coming to rest on his head.
"Z," he said quietly, pulling slowly out of her and looking at his middle and forefinger glisten in the light.
"Fuck," she replied into his hair.
"You were very quiet." He wiped her slick on his dick, quick movements which were not strokes but make his body clench anyway.
"I didn't want to be."
Court allowed himself approximately two seconds of pride. "What else can I do?" he asked her.
She rubbed her cheek on his head. "Get up here and fuck me."
Only now did he wipe his face on his bad arm. "Let me up."
She moved back and laid against the pillows, arms open, and Court went right into them, up off the floor and crawling one-handed so he was above her, weight on his knees and right arm. Had they ever had the chance to fuck in a bed? Court couldn't recall either of them having the time or safety before this (brief) moment in the current mission.
Zoya pulled him close and kissed him, and Court shuddered as she licked herself off his lips, feeling another hot pulse on his neglected cock. "Please," he said against her mouth. "Can I?"
Zoya shifted beneath him, legs against the outside of his hips, and she touched herself, getting her fingers wet and touching his dick. Court has to bite his own tongue to keep a moan down, watching her dip her fingers in and coat him with herself.
She tilted her hips up and guided him down, held herself open for him. Court kissed her again, feeling her legs shift to wrap around his hips as she pulled him in, wrapping him in wet, tight heat.
Court pushed forward, thighs shaking, and stopped, fully seated, pressed as close as he possibly can. He breathed, felt Zoya shift beneath him. The thought occurred to him that this might be the best he'd ever felt in his life, broken hand and all.
Zoya put her hands on his face and kissed him. "Come on, Court," she whispered, squirming.
He pulled half way out and in again, breathing out hard into her shoulder as she met his thrust. He'd gone down on his elbows, trying to spare his left hand and his right arm, and Zoya had moved to meet him, mouth on his, legs around his waist.
Court set a slow pace, making sure the bed doesn't squeak as he moved. Zoya kept kissing him, keeping in all the noises they both wanted to make.
She's so wet, he can feel it on his sack and and smearing where their thighs meet. He moved faster, Zoya meeting him. Little noises get caught in her throat, and Court took them in, kissing them into his own mouth.
"Zoya," he murmured when he moved to kiss her neck, eyes closed, licking a bead of sweat off of her skin, thrusting in harder now, feeling the pleasure start to tighten in his gut, the slick heat of her all around him.
Court felt her shift, and he opened his eyes to see her sneak her arm between them and touch herself, fingers circling her clit, and he immediately bit the inside of his mouth to keep a strangled noise from coming out at the sight.
She tightened around him, fingers moving, and Court cursed his broken hand, not for the first time that day, for not letting him join her.
He was close now, he could feel it, but he forced himself to slow a little, watching Zoya touch herself. "Come on," he said quietly, moving in and out of her on shivering thighs. "I want to feel you."
She inhaled and sped up her fingers, tilting up so Court sank a little deeper into her perfect heat. He kept the pace up, eyes darting between her hand and her face, her eyes closed and a tiny line of concentration between her eyebrows. He bent to kiss her, and she opened immediately, tongue touching his, and Court opened his eyes as she whimpered, wanting to see the pleasure on her face.
Her legs clenched around him, her eyes opened wide to meet his, and she made an abortive half-groan as her hand stilled on her clit.
Court met her hips as she pushed hard against him, the feeling of her orgasm around his cock forcing a short half-movement within her, and Court echoed her noise.
After a second, Court stilled and closed his eyes, memorizing all the places their bodies met. A touch on his lips, and he opened his mouth for Zoya's fingers, sucking her release off of them and nipping her fingertip with his teeth. He heard and felt her take a sharp breath.
They stayed that way for a moment, and after he could speak, Court looked down at her flushed face and started to ask, "Can—"
Zoya kissed him and in a movement Court made a distant mental note to ask her to teach him, flipped them over so she was on top. The bed beneath them made a ka-thunk, and despite the heated look between them, Court and Zoya froze, waiting to see if anyone tried the door.
When none came, Zoya ground down onto him, and Court bucked up to meet her, good hand on her hip to feel her fluid movements.
"I'm no girl," she said quietly, leaning down to kiss him. "Come on!"
Court could do nothing but obey, and he pressed up into her, setting a fast pace, pushing as deep as he could with each thrust, mouth on hers. His hips snapped up again and again, but they were matched in endurance and strength—Zoya met him every time, sighing into his good shoulder. One particularly hard thrust, she bit him, and Court had to slap his own hand over his mouth to keep from moaning her name. In some corner of his mind, Court wished they had the time to do more than this, to truly figure out what made the other tick. But they had work to do.
Zoya seemed to know that he was thinking and, without missing a gyration, removed his hand and kissed him, nipping his bottom lip. He breathed out hard, hips picking up more speed, and dove back in, tongue on hers as she ground down against him.
She grabbed the back of his neck with one hand, a finger nail pressed into the muscle where his shoulder and neck connected, and the other hand reached behind her to caress his sack, the mattress shifting under them with every movement.
Court felt her fingernails press a little harder, the fingers caressed him again, and she tightened around him—-the sensations combined and hit him at all once, ratcheting his pleasure even higher, and he thrust hard, again and again, and broke, pushing in as far as he could go and coming hard inside her, pulse after pulse of ecstasy, thighs shuddering, panting into her mouth.
"Fuck, Zoya," Court said, feeling himself pulse again as she tightened on him. He relaxed down, pulled her to him and nuzzled his face into her neck and tried to breath normally. He felt her smile into his hair, then her hands in his short strands.
"Mmm-hmm," she said.
"Articulate," he teased, kissing the skin he could reach.
"You're no better."
With an acknowledging noise, he gave her his right hand to help her up and off of him and reached for his boxers on the floor, handing them over to Zoya to be the clean-up towel. She chuckled at him but didn't protest, getting up and going to their shared bathroom.
Court let the post-orgasm lassitude fill him, remnants of fizzling pleasure making his thigh muscles twitch. He laid there unmoving until Zoya rejoined him, curling herself against him and letting him put his good arm around her again. He shifted and kissed her hair, enjoying the combined scent of her shampoo and their bodies.
"I think we tied in terms of keeping quiet."
"I agree," Court said. "I didn't want to either. Jesus, Z."
She smiled at him, and she looked like she might say something else when Court yawned. "Move so I can get the sheets open," she said, nudging him with her elbow.
They scooted around, and Zoya pulled the top sheet over them both before returning to her spot on Court's right. Before she laid down, she switched off the lamp on her side of the bed, plunging the room into darkness.
Court pulled her close, the warmth of her skin relaxing him. "Good night, Z," he said, sitting up a little to kiss her.
She kissed back. "Dobroj noči, Court. Good to know I can tire the Gray Man out."
Court only laughed against her mouth. "Maybe another time, we can figure out who has more endurance."
Another kiss, and they settled back down, her head on his shoulder. Court allowed the thought to come back, that he wished they could go somewhere alone, somewhere safe, somewhere they didn't have to keep running from mission to mission.
For now, though, he just held her close and listened to her breath. If they succeeded tomorrow, maybe they could get a chance to find that place.
In the next room, Zack Hightower looked exasperatedly at the ceiling. He was on first watch and would never violate protocol by running the fuck away from everything he could very clearly hear, but he thanked whatever God that might be watching over them that Court had yawned and not demonstrated some other fucking miraculous skill and run Zoya through the works. Again.
Even the Gray Man needs a post-nut nap, was not a thought he wanted to have, but it was a good reminder that Six was only human—-even if he didn't act like it.