Title: Games Between a King and Queen
Genres: Drama/Romance
Rating: M
Couple: Roy/Olivier

Games Between a King and Queen
Chapter 1.

'My date is late,' Roy Mustang muttered, checking his pocket watch for the sixth time that hour. Heaving a heavy sigh, he leaned against the bannister. 'I hope this isn't a sad prank of hers.'

In the past, his date had been guilty of cancelling their arranged meetings on short notice. Sometimes it was quite hurtful, if not obnoxious. Roy always took great care in his appearance whenever it was a special occasion. To realise all of his work was for nothing could be irritating. Although, really, Olivier Armstrong wasn't the type to sympathise.

'Don't worry too much, Chief. I'm sure she'll come soon.'

Turning to Lieutenant Havoc, Roy tried to smile, but he doubted him. Mind, this was a very special occasion. It would be rude of Olivier to not appear; many were expecting her. She would not only disappoint Roy, but the majority of the guests as well. Catching sight of his reflection, Roy brushed back a few strands of hair with his hand.

Almost subconsciously, he checked his pocket watch again.

'If she doesn't arrive in the next fifteen minutes, Havoc, I'll just assume she's ditched me on the spot. Again. I don't know why I continue to put up with this.'

The boot had left a muddy imprint on her dress. Scowling, Olivier rubbed her hand roughly against the stain. Unfortunately, the mud wasn't going anywhere. Olivier straightened and exhaled slowly. Hopefully it wasn't too noticeable. Anyway, her "date" wouldn't care much. As long as she arrived, then he would be happy and smiling.

Olivier had no intention to disappoint him, but thanks to the ambush not long ago, she was delayed. Returning her pistol to the strap around her thigh, Olivier glanced at the three dead bodies, before kneeling down beside one of them. Emptying his pockets, she retrieved an ID, wallet and a folded sheet of paper.

The other two had nothing of interest to reveal. Olivier opened her purse, and placed the items inside, before standing to her feet. 'Good night, gentlemen.' Heels echoing the dark alleyway, Olivier proceeded for the Manor which wasn't too far away. She had a feeling those bodies would still be there by the time the party ended, not that it was her problem. Some poor child might discover them.

Looking up at the clock tower, she realised she was almost an hour late.

'Shit.'

Although Olivier liked to keep Roy sweating, she didn't want to be too mean. This time, it wasn't her fault, but she wondered if Roy would believe her. Well, surely the muddy imprint on her dress would be enough evidence.

Her destination was one of her family's many homes. This Manor was a little smaller than the one she used to reside when she was younger. The Manor she approached was specifically held for celebrations. Inside was a huge dining area, either used for eating or dancing. Tonight, it would be used for both. What was impressive about this Manor was how open it was.

The roof was circular, ending in a tip, pointed up at the night sky. Lights from the Manor illuminated the entire street, and from where she was, Olivier could hear the jazz music of live singers and bands. Her father had put a lot of work into this. Or, more, paid a lot of money into this. He would expect her arrival to be early.

Oh well. She had many more chances to please him.

Guests crowded the outside porch, and tables were scattered across the lawn, lovely lamps seated on each table. Olivier hurried past the chatting crowds and entered the large doors. A red, lavish carpet was deliberately paved from the entrance to the main dining area where hundreds of guests resided. Olivier had no interest in who was there, except for her companion.

To her dismay, Roy was not in sight. He agreed to meet her here, but she had a terrible hunch he had grown impatient. Could she honestly blame him?

'Livvy!'

Katherine Armstrong's presence could brighten any room. Olivier turned, watching her younger sister come hurrying over. She was dressed in a wonderful white dress, ending just above her knees. A pink flower was in her long, blonde hair, and Olivier noticed Katherine was wearing more makeup than usual.

It was odd how fast Katherine had grown. The last time they met, she didn't reach Olivier's shoulders. Now, they were pretty much the same height.

'I love your dress––' Katherine spotted the muddy boot imprint. The smile transformed into a cringe. '––Oh, another one?'

'I'm afraid so,' Olivier said. 'It will wash out.'

'Yes, I'm sure.' Instantly Katherine was distracted by another thought. 'Father says he wants to see you as soon as you arrive, and I think Mister Mustang is waiting for you.'

'Was.'

'Oh.. Oh dear.'

'I'll catch him somewhere. You said Father wants to speak with me?'

'Uh-Huh. Let me take you to him.'

Katherine escorted Olivier into the main dining area where many guests crowded in little or large groups, wine in their hands, chatting and laughing. The noise was so loud, Olivier didn't hear Katherine speak when she announced where her Father was. Philip Armstrong had a large crowd of his own, red in the face, and looking cheery as ever. His suit was new, Olivier guessed, for she had never seen it before: completely white, a rose sticking out of his blazer.

When Olivier approached him, Philip instantly spotted her, and spread his arms out, gesturing for an embrace. Olivier did not desire a hug from her Father so remained put, smiling slightly. Philip came forward, grinning ear-to-ear, sparkling from every angle. Deciding it would be best to just place a hand on her shoulder, he spoke.

'I'm overjoyed you arrived, Olivier. Your Mother and I were concerned you wouldn't make it. Lovely dress. Let me look.' Philip took a couple of steps back to admire his daughter. It was true that Olivier wouldn't be seen dead in a dress, but the occasion was special, and she thought her "date" deserved to see a dress. Even though he didn't wait. 'Absolutely stunning, dear.'

The dress was simple (Olivier was fond of simple). Black, the sleeves see-through, cut off a little above her elbows. Fitted around her waist, loose and slightly flowy below. Not puffy or showy. Olivier wasn't fond of such dresses. This one, however, had been in her possession for quite some time. The red tights were probably a bit too teasing, but Philip didn't seem to mind.

'There is someone I want you to meet,' Philip said quietly.

Olivier sighed. 'Of course.'

'You will want to meet him. I've made sure he is...' And from then on, Olivier just blocked out Philip's voice entirely. He. He, you must meet this he, because he will be perfect for you. 'Look, here is the man himself!'

Wonderful. Olivier braced herself, and caught sight of a handsome man, around her age, if not a couple years older. His suit was typical: black blazer, white shirt, black trousers. Lots of blond hair, combed back. Very smiley. Too smiley. 'Hello, Miss Armstrong, Lord Armstrong.' He bobbed his head in respect. 'This is who you wanted me to meet, Sir?'

'That's right,' Philip chuckled. 'Olivier, meet Mister Ashby. You know his family, remember? His parents gave you a scrumptious dinner when you were younger.'

'Must have passed my mind, but a pleasure to meet you,' Olivier said, holding out a hand for Mister Ashby to shake. Not really to her surprise, the man decided to take her by the fingers, and kissed her hand.

'I've heard so much about you, Miss Armstrong. Or, is General Armstrong preferable?'

'Actually––'

'No, no. Not when my daughter is off-duty,' Philip interrupted, 'Most unprofessional.'

Olivier refrained herself from sneering. Having this ass-kissing idiot calling her "General" all night would be very satisfying. 'My Father is right, Mister Ashby.'

'Please, those close to me call me Jim.'

'I'm sure they do.'

A pause of awkward silence was shared between the trio. Philip and his booming voice broke it, with much enthusiasm. 'Olivier, you must show Mister Ashby your military honours.'

'They're hardly anything of interest,' Olivier persisted.

'No, I'd love to know what you've achieved, Miss Armstrong,' Jim said, smiling admirably.

'Excellent!' Philip exclaimed. 'I shall leave you both to it then.' And with that, Philip walked away, a bounce in his step.

'I've only heard about you from gossip. I am still amazed today that a woman was able to control such a fierce and ruthless army in the North,' Jim said, eyes sparkling with glee.

'A woman?' Olivier cocked a brow.

Jim swallowed. 'Uh, not like that, Miss Armstrong. I just–– it's unusual to witness such a circumstance.'

'Believe me, Mister Ashby, the army in Central would be far more efficient if it were controlled by a woman. Unfortunately in today's society, men only have eyes for men.'

'Well, that's a little too harsh––'

'Is it? Forgive me. I'm sure you, with your profession, know more about the military than a military commander would.'

'Woman or man, one can only be efficient at what they do depending on their character.'

'True, Mister Ashby, but let's consider a scenario: you're either saved by a man or woman from a battlefield. Who do you pick?'

Jim chuckled nervously. 'On the spot, Miss Armstrong, I honestly wouldn't mind.'

'You're not on the spot, though, Mister Ashby. Or do I intimidate you? You do appear flustered.'

'It–– It's nothing to do with your question. I'm merely flustered because you...' Jim pulled at his tie, and cleared his throat. 'You're so pleasing to the eye.'

'Mm,' Olivier frowned. 'Disappointing. I don't appreciate limitations being placed on my beauty. It's funny with men: they act so strong and mighty, but in the presence of a woman, they're the most pathetic creature that ever walked the earth. Don't breathe the illusion of pride, Mister Ashby, because you're a man. You are man, but that's all.'

Two strong hands fell at her shoulders from behind. 'I think Miss Armstrong is in need of a drink. Rough day, my dear?'

'Mister Mustang,' Olivier turned her head. 'I am having a conversation with this pleasant fellow, Mister Ashby.'

Jim raised his gaze to look at Roy who was currently behind Olivier. 'Hello, Mister Mustang. I've heard plenty about you as well,' he said, offering a hand to shake.

'Oh. Yes, I am very popular after all,' Roy said, coming round Olivier to take Jim's hand. It took everything in Olivier to not slap her forehead when Mustang repeated the kiss on the hand which Jim had done for Olivier. 'Seeing as you thought such a gesture was appropriate for our lady friend, I thought what's the difference if I do it to you also?'

Jim retrieved his hand, a look of disgust plastered across his face. 'Miss Armstrong is a woman, Mister Mustang. It is polite of me to kiss her hand.'

'Then, surely it's polite if I do the same thing to you?'

'I am a man.'

'Wow. Olive, this one's smart.'

'Mustang...'

Jim scoffed. 'You are far less impressive in person, Mister Mustang. Good day to you both.' Pulling at his blazer, Jim swivelled around on his heel and left the two in silence.

It wasn't long until Roy started chuckling. 'That was too easy.'

'My Father will be the least bit happy. I think he was hoping Mister Ashby and I would see eye-to-eye.'

'I know you better than your Father does then. By the way, you're late. So you're buying me a drink. Make it a pint of that fancy wine your maid is serving.' Roy pointed towards said maid, who was carrying a tray of wine glasses.

'You have to order those,' Olivier said. It was then she realised his attire. Much different than usual, even quite wild. Purple and white lined shirt, purple trouser braces, and a blue ascot. 'Did Christmas buy you those clothes?'

Roy pulled a crooked smile. 'Why? Do you approve?' He motioned his chin towards the dirty mark across her dress. 'Had a little accident on the way?'

'Yes, that's why I'm so late. When I say that Drachman soldiers are desperate, I'm not joking. Some spies discovered my plans for this evening and decided to ambush me. Quite a silly mistake on their part.'

'Agreed. You should have invited them, Olivier.'

'Urgh, no. They'd bore me.'

Roy made a loop with his arm, and Olivier cooperatively linked her arm with his. Together, they made their way past the many crowds and into the fresh air. Roy grabbed two glasses of wine on his way out, before passing one to Olivier. It was a cool evening, but pleasant. Olivier had a feeling she might spend the rest of the night here than in there.

It didn't take her long to realise Roy's eyes had been on her for a couple more seconds than was appropriate.

'What?' She asked, not looking at him.

'The last time I saw you in a dress was when Katherine was born. It was in celebrating of her birth. A while ago.'

Olivier sighed. 'She's grown.'

'I know.' He smirked. 'She looks like you.'

'Good. That means she got the best genes from my parents.'

'Have you seen Alex?'

Alex, her only brother. The actual reason she was here to begin with. A couple of weeks ago it was announced that Alex was marrying a lovely lass from a close family. Olivier was happy for her teary-eyed brother, but she wondered if his fiancée felt the same way. However, Alex was her brother, so it was natural for her to feel suspicious.

Turning to the entrance, she considered finding him but: 'I bet he is really popular tonight. My appearance can wait. I should have expected him to marry soon. Father can barely stand in one place. Anything to do with Alex has him jumping in the air. I guess I can see why now. He's continuing the Armstrong bloodline, something he wanted me to fulfil a long time ago.'

Roy dropped his gaze. Only he was aware about Olivier's relationship with her Father. Ever since she was born, Olivier had been pressurised into the role of wife and mother. The woman was anything but, yet this did not please her Father. He wanted a grandson, and desperately. Katherine was still not of age, Olivier's sisters weren't actually pleasing to look at, and Olivier was a hopeless case.

Thankfully, Philip did have Alex, his only son. Ever since Alex's birth, everything was about Alex. Roy understood why Olivier used to be jealous when they were younger. Sometimes, the only thing she would discuss with Roy was Alex and how her Father rarely noticed her presence. That was some time ago now. Olivier had passed the stage of envy.

'I'm happy for him,' Olivier muttered, taking a sip of her drink.

Roy nodded. 'Yeah, me too.'

'Colonel Miles sends his love.'

Roy snorted. 'Ah, yes. And I return the affection! He is a very good soldier, Olivier. The best I've seen, even.'

'I know. I did train him, but he still has much to learn.' However, Roy noticed a hint of pride in her expression.

'You know, I couldn't do what you did for him.'

Olivier faced Roy with a slightly sarcastic look. 'Of course not. I'm better than you at everything, Mustang.'

'Not everything.'

'Is that a challenge?'

Roy grinned. 'Not to me.'

She tried to figure out what was on his mind by studying his chuffed expression. 'I can't believe a moron like you has the rank of Colonel. No wonder Central is always in wrecks.'

'Hey, at least my talent got me to where I am.'

'Really?' Olivier stepped closer to him. 'I dare you to say what you just implied there, Mustang.'

Roy raised his chin. 'You know what I implied, Armstrong.'

'If we weren't surrounded by snobby idiots, I would have hit you in the jaw by now.'

'You are the kindest of lady I've ever met.'

'Must be. Explains why you're with me so much.'

A cold, shrill voice was heard from nearby: 'Olivier? What are you doing out here, when your brother is inside?'

Olivier turned to face her Mother. She did not look pleased, but nothing really made the poor lass happy. 'I needed some fresh air. It was way too populated in there.'

'Philip informed me he left you with Mister Ashby. With all due respect, Mister Mustang, you are not Mister Ashby.'

'One can dream,' Olivier murmured.

'Olivier, you were not invited to just speak with Mister Mustang. He also has to mingle as well. You two haven't changed since you were children–– just a pain for me to handle. Both of you, inside. People want to talk to you.'

The General didn't have to look and see if Roy was smirking. She already knew. When her Mother exhaled in exasperation and returned inside, Olivier decided to follow suit. 'That was a lovely greeting by my Mother. A "hello" would have been nice.'

Roy sniggered. 'She's wonderful when you're not around me.'

Olivier ignored that comment and separated herself from the man's presence. Her Mother was right; Roy would only distract her, as usual.

Not to her surprise, the night merely dragged on when she left Roy. Mister Ashby bumped into her again, and had very little to say. Philip noticed, and she could tell there would be words after the party. Finally, she managed to see Alex, who instantly had her in a backbreaking embrace, ignoring her resistance. At once Alex burst into tears and wiped his face with a handkerchief.

'I'm so happy.'

'No kidding,' Olivier said.

Alex sniffed and pocketed his handkerchief, although he would most likely require it in the next couple of seconds. Placing a hand at Olivier's back, her brother escorted Olivier towards a petite, feminine young lady. Long, brunette hair flowed past her shoulders, and she wore a fitted, blue dress, revealing her tiny form.

It then occurred to Olivier this was his wife-to-be.

She was nothing like Olivier had imagined. The lady was so small. 'Natalie, dear, this is my sister, Olivier.'

Natalie turned, and her eyes widened when she met Olivier's gaze. 'Oh! Miss Armstrong, I–– I'm very honoured to meet you.' Her smile was wonderful, the type of smile one had to return. Olivier preferred to judge people when she got to know them, but this lady was very likeable already.

'I should have met you a long time before any marriage was arranged between you both.' Olivier stepped forwards, thousands of questions whirling in her head. 'When did you and Alex meet?'

'About two years ago,' Natalie said, looking at Alex for reassurance.

'It was love at first sight!' Alex boomed.

Oh here we go, Olivier thought to herself.

'Though Natalie was very reluctant to let me be her husband, at first.'

'Alex, I was desperate for you to be, but–– there were complications.'

Olivier smiled crookedly. 'No need to apologise for being hesitant. Alex should be patient.'

'He was––' Both women exchanged glances, '––Mostly.'

'Men are naturally impatient for our approval. Believe me, I know plenty. In fact, there's one right now in this very room.' She grinned, and then realised she was having fun. She liked Natalie.

'I've had my fair share as well, Miss Armstrong. It is rude how they expect us to swoon as soon as we meet.'

'Isn't it? I mean, what am I supposed to be swooning at?'

'Ladies!' Alex exclaimed, not appreciating what Olivier was encouraging. 'Maybe I can get you both a drink?'

'Already got one,' Olivier said, raising her glass. 'And what's wrong, little brother? Feeling insecure?'

'No...' Alex rubbed the back of his head, blushing.

Natalie smiled. 'You have no reason to be, dear. You are the most gentle man I have ever met. They're so rare to find these days,' she said, linking her arm with Alex's. Then her eyes flickered over past Olivier's shoulder. 'Oh, it's Mister Mustang again.'

Olivier groaned.

'Hello. You two are so wonderful together,' Roy said, approaching the two and standing beside Olivier. 'I'm glad Olivier finally met you, Miss Hailey. I know you were very keen.' Mustang looked at Olivier. 'You were nice, right?'

'Miss Armstrong has been given the wrong image entirely,' Natalie said. 'I hope you don't mind my say so, Miss, but you do look beautiful in that dress.'

Olivier wasn't one for compliments, but she nodded anyway. 'Thank you. You do look lovely yourself.'

Roy smirked. 'So, only two more days until the wedding? I'm quite excited.'

'You're invited?' Olivier said.

'Of course he is!' Alex beamed. 'Mister Mustang has been a part of our family for years, Olivier. You of all people would have to agree. Mother continuously complains about how you two always used to create trouble together.'

'Roy did. Not really me. I was... dragged into his shenanigans.'

'More, obliged to be a part of them, Olive. Actually, if memory recalls, you were the one who planned the majority of our schemes.'

'Your memory must be fooling you.'

'My memory is my greatest trait.'

'Well, you're screwed then, aren't you?'

Alex sighed heavily, and squeezed Natalie's shoulder affectionally. 'Well, us two are going to grab some food. Would you both care to join us?'

'I'm not hungry,' Olivier said.

Roy grabbed her hand. 'Don't be silly, Olivier. We must eat. You have to see the cake!'

Chugging down the last of her wine, Olivier followed her friend into the room where food was being served. And there was a lot of food. Olivier swallowed, eyeing the dishes of meat, salads, sweets and whatever else there was. Nothing appeared that appetising. All those years eating gruel at Briggs had ruined her appetite completely. Now she only appreciated the worst.

Thankfully, Roy was there with his enthusiasm, picking out food for both of them to wolf down. He even started eating while he was still serving himself. By the time Roy was done, his entire plate was stacked with God knows what. Olivier could only stare in awe while he shoved all of his food down in less than two minutes.

Wiping his mouth, he looked at Olivier's dirty look, then her full plate.

'You going to eat that?'

She slid her plate closer to her. 'Yes.'

Taking her knife and fork, she cut a slice of her meat, diverting her attention to Alex, who had the entire table's attention. He was talking about how he and Natalie met, how their relationship developed and other tedious information Olivier wasn't sure she wanted to hear. While Alex continuously discussed, Olivier had to admit the meat wasn't bad.

Raising her gaze, she watched Roy pour himself a pint of beer which was available.

'How is Lieutenant Hawkeye?'

Roy looked at her. 'Fine. Why?'

'Just curious. I'm surprised she's still with you. I wouldn't have had the patience. Remind her that if she comes under my command, I'll make sure she gets better pay, is treated with respect and has more promotions.'

Mustang had a swig of his beer. 'She already has those luxuries.'

'She doesn't, really.'

'Why do you want my subordinate, Olivier?'

'Because she's your subordinate.'

Roy threw her a look.

'Fine: she is very skilled with artillery, one of the best snipers I've witnessed. We need someone like that at Briggs.'

'No.'

Olivier cocked a brow. 'Protective.'

'Maybe. Jealous?'

'You wish.'

'You're jealous.'

'I'm not jealous, Mustang. A little sick, yes, but not jealous.'

A pause.

'I was jealous of that Mister Kashby.'

'Ashby.'

'That's the one.'

'Not much to be jealous of. He didn't stand much of a chance, poor petal.'

Roy folded his arms and squinted his eyes. 'It's weird that your Father keeps shoving men into your face, completely oblivious that I keep shoving myself into your face. Quite literally too.'

'That's probably because he can't hear money in your pockets when you walk.'

'Surely what's important to Philip is his daughter being with someone who cares about her.'

'By caring you must mean "fucking". All my Father wants is for me to get fucked, so a baby boy can pop out of me.'

'I don't believe you. Your childhood has slanted your perception on how your Father feels about you. He picked Mister Ashby only after having a long conversation with him. He wanted to make sure he would take care of you well.'

Olivier had stopped eating a while ago. Now, her appetite was completely gone. 'That's just it: taking care of me, because I can't take care of myself.'

'The world knows that's not true.'

'I'm surprised my Father hasn't given up.'

'Well, from the looks he was giving you tonight, I'm sure he's not very happy.'

'Maybe I should jump into Ashby's arms and see if that cheers my Father up.'

'I'd love to see that.'

'Whatever,' Olivier said, grabbing Roy's pint of beer and tasting some for herself. 'That's disgusting.'

Roy took the beer from her, grinning. 'You've never liked alcohol for some reason.'

'It doesn't taste nice, plus it.. makes me feel weird.'

'What does that mean?'

Olivier didn't respond. Finally it looked like Alex had finished his conversation and seated himself by his smiling fiancée. Now it was Philip's turn to stand. Olivier propped herself on one elbow, prepared for a very cheesy speech. Sure enough, there was one. She looked over at Mustang, who was smiling like an idiot. She wondered if he was really that into what Philip was saying.

When Philip finished, he raised his glass as did everyone else, offering a toast to Alex and Natalie. Roy kicked Olivier under the table to mimic the gesture.

'Are you heading home alone tonight?'

Olivier narrowed her brows. 'Yes, like I always do. Will you? Maybe I should escort you in case someone starts bullying you.'

'Good friend as always.'

'I'm fine, Mustang. The Manor has plenty of rooms, and I have many to pick from away from my wonderful family.'

It was then that Alex came over and hugged Olivier from behind, almost squeezing the life out of her. 'I look forward to your arrival at home, Olivier. Katherine has said we shall be playing a few board games, and having plenty of conversations with some of our relatives. They look forward to meeting you.'

As soon as her brother left, Olivier leaned over to Roy. 'I'm going back to your place.'

Roy's apartment was nothing to look at. There were three rooms: a bedroom which could only fit a bed in it, a tiny kitchen, and a room called the "lounge" even though it only had a gramophone and settee. Olivier's first intention was to sleep in Roy's bed, and he could sleep on the sofa, but, of course, Mustang refused to abandon his bed to her.

The cupboard containing a variety of alcohol drinks was broken into, and Roy encouraged Olivier to have a drink herself. It remained untouched, and it was Roy who drank her glass after having quite a couple himself.

Roy wasn't drunk by the end of the night, but he was much more confident, which was probably why his hands knew exactly where to touch her. Several months ago, the two had slept together, and a couple of months before that. An unhealthy way of relieving stress and other issues life seemed to throw at them. However, it worked well for the two, and as long as Roy had time for Olivier's needs, then it was a sufficient cure.

Thanks to all the alcohol, Roy was a bit floppy once he fell onto the bed. Olivier straddled him, unclipping the braces attached to his trousers, watching them flick back. Placing both hands at her thighs, Roy inhaled slowly between his teeth, sliding his hands up her well-toned legs until he felt the strap for her gun. A grin stretched across his lips.

'Always prepared, aren't you?'

While Olivier busied herself with his shirt, Roy peeled away the strap and threw it onto the floor, before raising himself into a sitting position. He bit down on her lower lip while she stripped away his shirt, her hands running down his firm chest, his muscles tensing under her cool touch.

Olivier moved over his groin, feeling his arousal against her thigh, causing her to smile impishly. 'You're too easy to please, Roy.'

Roy kissed her neck, then her collar bone, his hands finding the back of her dress and pulling down the zip slowly. Her smooth flesh was soon touched by his palms, and the dress soon met with his shirt on the floor. Arms around her hips, Roy flipped her over, kissing her lips roughly, hands soon finding her thighs again, sliding up, the hem of her tights then in his grasp.

Once the last piece of clothing was removed, Olivier sighed into his mouth, allowing him to run his palm across her breast, squeezing once, before trailing his thumb over her nipple. His lips soon met his thumb, tongue flicking across her most sensitive spot, loving how her hands clenched onto his hair. But he wanted her to make a noise, to moan, to beg.

They kissed again, Olivier's hands working at his belt and slipping it away, before shoving down his trousers. Roy was soon naked atop of her, already breathless before he had even started. Olivier was expecting him to get under way, but he was teasing her. Roy's lips left her own, trailing down her neck, to her belly, and then––

Olivier gasped, amazed he would dare venture so far. This wasn't fair. She inhaled sharply when his tongue confidently searched for where he would receive the best response from her. Roy soon found it, sucking there, until finally her body seemed to burst into flames. How he touched her was phenomenal, she couldn't describe it and God that annoyed her.

Pulling at his hair, she breathed a moan, loving and hating how the pleasure had gradually increased, until it nearly filled her completely. Roy was not going to stop. She could demand he stop, but Roy knew what game she was playing at. Pride controlled him, confidence was his power, and she was completely at his mercy.

A load exclaim escaped her lips after a few more seconds, and she bit down on her lower lip, her hands still holding onto his hair. She wanted him to raise his head and let her have control, but she couldn't move, and Roy had her pinned. His amazing activity continued, and she was afraid she would burst, it felt too good.

Then a sharp, sudden flourish of bliss made her body tense, and her hands claimed the bed sheets, squeezing tightly, unable to remain silent any longer. Proud of his work, Roy finally raised his head from between her legs, and wiped his lips, before kissing her again. He noticed how Olivier, at first, was rather weak to respond, which only made him smile wider.

I need to remember what I did there...

Olivier could barely focus on what was happening, but his body against hers was torture, she had to have him. A little angry he humiliated her in such a manner, she literally threw him onto the bed, and straddled his hips, breaths heavy and shaking. Roy, mouth slightly ajar, slid his hands up her thighs again, reaching over to fondle her chest.

When she found him, he inhaled slowly, before releasing a slow exhale, allowing Olivier to rock gently against him, slow at first, becoming used to him again. It wasn't long until she became more forceful, more confident, remembering what he loved, how he reacted to what, and what he did which pleased her the most.

Roy curled his lips, raising his gaze to meets hers, and smiled slightly. This was naughty–– very naughty. Olivier's parents would not be proud, and this only aroused him further.

Hands at her hips Roy groaned, letting his head fall back, allowing Olivier to have complete control of what was happening. It was what she wanted, and he honestly didn't mind. Their lovemaking continued and continued, both beginning to tremble by the amount of bliss they endured. His lips met hers again, mouth wet and inviting, and when her pace quickened a little more, Roy clenched onto her arms, jarring his teeth.

Olivier knew he wouldn't last much longer, and he finally surrendered, breathless, sweaty but very satisfied.

Several minutes passed until Roy could finally speak. Turning around, he noticed Olivier had almost fallen asleep. 'I think Mister Ashby will be really jealous now.'

Olivier slowly opened her eyes, then rolled them. Roy sniggered, wrapped the sheets around them both before pulling her close. He kissed her forehead, and smiled.

'Good night, Olive.'

Yet consequences always come back to play more games.

author's note: Without a doubt, the longest chapter I've written ever. Thank you for reading, and sorry if lemons aren't your thang. I tried to be as least graphic as possible, and this was by far my most detailed lemon. I always focus on emotions- this had a very different mood to it, so was different altogether. I decided to end the chapter here because it was getting too long, and I didn't want to bore you.

Yes, Alex is getting married :P

If you did read, please leave a review. I would like to continue this story a lot. Thanks again, and see you when I next update.