Let's Fuck it Up

Her eyes darted between blurred figures within the crowd, eventually falling onto a couple: a man and a woman who separated from the crowd and settled into a lone corner not far from Seras. Her back pressed against the wall, their bodies meshed as he attacked her neck. An airy moan escaped the woman, head thrown back as her hips ground against his leg. 

Seras shifted uncomfortably in her seat, teeth digging into her lip. Her heart throbbed in her ears. She almost couldn’t look away. 

Their lips met each other’s greedily. Hungrily, even. A hand slipped under her skirt and—

Her stomach flipped. Maybe she was too sheltered or prudish. Embarrassed and ignoring the heat that had settled between her legs, Seras’ gaze shifted elsewhere. Anywhere but there. 

Her gaze fell on a set of narrow, metal stairs that led to a second level, sectioned off from the rest of the club by a clasped rope. There wasn’t anyone up there at all; just two men who sat across from each other. 

One of the men, who appeared to be in his mid thirties, was dressed in a cleanly pressed, white suit. A well manicured hand flicked away a lock of sleek blond hair, his hair gently flowing down the back of the couch and nearly grazing the floor. A scowl had settled on his pointed features.

The other man had his back turned toward her. In direct contrast to the snobbish elegance of the other, he was dressed almost too casually. A hand waved exaggeratedly in the air and gestured at the main level. In her direction. 

The man in white pinched the bridge of his nose, adjusted his spectacles, and scoffed. What is he saying? 

Seras shifted closer, as though she could focus all her senses on the pair— straining as if this one private conversation was the most important thing happening right then. 

Suddenly, a large arm snaked around her waist and yanked her into a lap. She yelped, her fist raised ready to strike, only to realize who had attacked her the moment she saw that familiar sandy blond hair.

Harry was at least twenty years her senior, both in age and on the force. He’d been at it for so long that he worked his way up until he was off the streets and into a cozy desk position, much to his chagrin. He must've been delighted when he was assigned something other than administrative paperwork. He’d been out of the game so long, the commissioner figured there was no one else left on the streets who would recognize him as a cop. However, it was embarrassing that he was supposed to play the role of her loose boyfriend. What middle aged man was spending a Saturday at the clubs, especially with a nineteen year old girl- woman. 

Seras scoffed. Small hands shoved at his shoulder, though he was hardly moved by it. Instead, Harry gave a hearty laugh. Her eyes quickly darted back toward the two men above. The man in white was still up there, receiving wine from a skimpy waitress. The other had vanished. 

“You know, you’ll get a lot more done if you go and mingle with the crowd,” he said jovially, taking a swig from a sleek crystal glass. 

“Are you drinking?” 

“Ah– maybe just a glass or two,” he stammered, then laughed, “Now, don’t give me that look, Kitten.”

“I'm not sure it's appropriate for you to call me that, sir,” she said, remaining rigid in his lap. “Have you found anything so far?” 

Harry ran a hand through his hair, his expression turning more stern and focused as he leaned close to her ear. 

“It’s clean as far as I can tell. It could take a few nights before we find anything.” His drunken smile returned as he leaned back and pulled her close against his chest. “Of course, you could probably get a lot more out of these junkies if you were more willing to work your— er— assets a bit more.”

“I’m not sure I appreciate what you’re implying.”

“You’re a pretty girl, Victoria. You could drive any man here wild if you wanted to. The attention you could pull if you shook your hips just a little—”

Scowling, she hissed, “Absolutely not!” 

"Just think about it, won't you?"

Sliding from his seat, he shook his head disappointedly before staggering away to disappear in the crowd. Gone from her sight once again. A disappointed sigh escaped her as she glanced toward the unassuming bar. She didn’t usually drink. Even mixed drinks had a tendency to taste like piss, and she loathed the way alcohol made her feel lightheaded, less perceptive— less in control. 

But now? She craved relief from the constant assault on her senses. Without hesitation, Seras was leaned up against the bar, arm in the air, though only for a second before slumping forward. The cool glass provided temporary relief from the hot, mugginess of the club as she nuzzled into her forearms. 

A glass clanked against the counter near her, peering up just as the bartender gestured to a guy at the other end of the bar. They locked eyes, his intense gaze bearing down on her as he leaned forward on his elbows. A sheepish smile fell onto her features, the glass cradled in her arms though Seras didn’t dare drink from it. However, he remained completely fixated on her.  

He struck her as the type of man that might’ve been attractive — tall and slender with dark brown hair, warm earthy skin, and golden eyes that pierced through the dark— that is, if he weren’t dressed as some two-bit mobster who lost a fight with a piercing gun.

If there was ever a shadier person…   

Seras glanced nervously at the crowd. Harry was still nowhere to be seen. She could only hope he was doing his job, but the hint of alcohol on his breath from earlier wasn’t promising. 

The air beside her shifted, an arm wrapping around her shoulders just as it had before. The breath she didn’t know she was holding finally released from her lungs. 

“Harry! I— Oh!” Her voice caught in her throat, nose to pierced nose with the stranger from across the bar. She chuckled, maybe out of nervous habit, and muttered softly, “Sorry, I thought you were my… someone else, actually.”

His narrowed eyes bore holes into her as he leaned in closer.

“Er, sorry,” she stuttered; for some reason, she couldn’t stop herself from apologizing to him. “You’re a bit clo—“

“Name’s Jan. Jan Fuckin’ Valentine!” He swung around in his seat, leaning his elbows against the bar-top. “Enjoying’ the club, Kitten? Havin’ fun?”

“Well—“

“Cuz, if you ask me, you look fucking miserable.”

Seras frowned. 

Valentine… Valentine… right! 

That name was familiar; she had read it in the case report, after all. 

Jan Valentine co-owned the club with his brother, both suspected of black market dealings years back. Primarily, they were suspected of operating a large-scale drug and arms trafficking operation right there in the club. However, the department couldn’t dig up any substantial evidence, and the case was officially closed despite the commissioner’s protests. 

This can’t be a coincidence…

“To tell you the truth, my–er, boyfriend thought it’d be fun, but… I guess this really isn’t my scene,” she said with a sigh, “At least Harry seems to be having fun…”

“Ya know what,” he snapped, startling her. “That shit’s fucked up! Don’t ya think you deserve to be havin’ a lil’ fun yourself instead of sittin’ here all by your lonesome,” he asked. 

He leaned into her again. Her body instinctively jerked, though she swallowed down that urge. Instead, she leaned right back into him, aggressively pushing her thigh against his and giving him an innocent smile that she hoped to God wasn’t recognized as being immensely fake. 

“Maybe… but…W-what did you have in mind, exactly?”

“What’s with the stutter? Am I scaring you,” he asked, his tone saturated in mockery. His lips curled, staring her down in a way that made the hair stand on the back of her neck. 

“Er– no! Not at all?”

“You sure?”

“It’s nothing. I–!”

Suddenly, her back was forced against the bar, a pained gasp escaping as she slammed against the counter. Glasses shattered by her feet. Her wrists were held tightly by either side of her head as his body pressed firmly against hers. He looked down at her like the cat that caught the canary between his claws, and poor Seras hated being the canary in any circumstance. 

Fists clenched and unclenched. Her mind raced. Eyes darted wildly. Anyone? People were near. They glanced at her, then turned away and left. They left! And her partner? Nowhere to be seen, completely vanished from her line of sight. Too bad for her. She was out of sight. Out of mind. Out of luck. 

His lips brushed against her ear as he leaned in, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin on her neck as he hissed, “Stupid bitch. Did ya think we wouldn’t fuckin’ notice?”

Finding some semblance of grit, she spat back, “I don’t know what you mean. M-My boyfriend wouldn’t like this!” 

“Bitch, don't make me laugh. I saw your boyfriend, and he’s like fucking fifty,” he said with a laugh. “Besides, it’s so fuckin’ easy to spot two amateur cops."

Straining against him, she asked, "Then why engage if you knew we were officers? That only makes you look suspicious."

"I wanna know why y’all are here— we ain’t done shit!” 

“Oh really,” she said acidly, her voice strained as she exerted herself upwards to break out of his hold. “We’ve got evidence that says otherwise.”

Jan snarled, “Fucking liar.”

“Assaulting an officer, to start." She smiled mockingly as his expression twisted into shock. "How many years do you think that’ll be? Certainly more than what you’ve done before, I’m sure.”

"Smart. Real Smart." He paused, lips pressed into a thin line, then said, “You asked earlier what I had in mind? Lemme show you.”

He yanked her onto her feet by her wrist. Seras stumbled as he jerked her forward, the reality of the situation washing over her. Fear struck her to the core. She was suddenly struggling, kicking and planting her feet, but his grip only tightened. A hand clamped over her mouth and nose when she tried to scream, hoping someone, especially Harry, would hear her and come running. She was dragged along until he kicked open a thick, wooden door and shoved her into a dark room. She stumbled forward, banging her knee on a short table. 

The door slammed shut behind her. 

Seras whipped around, her blood running cold as she saw him standing between her and her escape. Fury and hatred overwhelmed her as she stared at his same stupid grin, overriding any fear she had before. She rushed forward and shoved him against the door with a loud Bang! 

He threw his hands up. “Easy, Kitten!”

“Let me out!”

“We need to fuckin’ talk.”

“There’s nothing I have to say to you.”

“Then shut the fuck up and listen, bitch.” 

She was led to a white, suede sofa and forcibly shoved down. Despite his lanky stature, Jan was far stronger than he appeared. He casually strolled to the opposite side of the room to a cabinet, his back turned to her. 

Dead silent and withdrawn, searching for every exit though she could only find a single window out to a fire escape. It was cold, almost chilled compared to the hot, mugginess of the club below. It didn’t appear to be a separate office or security hub. It was more like a living room, with white or oak, rather posh furniture nearly blinding her. She briefly wondered if the brothers lived there. 

She peered between the door and window. The fire escape would have her outside the club quickly, but she’d have to cross his path and hope she wouldn’t fall over the side of the building. She could try her luck in the club and find Harry– the crowd could conceal her too. Then again, that same crowd could impede her, and he could just as easily drag her back to that same room. It unsettled her how so many people saw him drag her away yet didn't do anything to stop it. How many other girls had he dragged away like this?

She glanced at the door again, muscles tense as she sat on the edge of the couch. She'd have to chance it. At least maybe she could catch Harry's attention and-

“Don’t even fucking try it,” he said, stopping next to her and nudging a glass into her hand. 

Arms crossed over her chest, she grimaced and turned away. “I don’t like alcohol.” 

“Take. It,” he said and shoved it into her hand anyways. 

He plopped down right beside her, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and throwing back a half empty bottle of booze. She wondered if he was trying to intimidate her or if he truly lacked any sense of personal space. “Say, what do you think of our humble establishment? Does it live up to its fuckin’ reputation or what?” 

“I don’t care to make small talk with crooks.”

“I don't give a shit,” he said, “You’re gonna fuckin’ listen whether ya like it or not."

Snidely, she said, “For your own sake, I hope that isn’t a thinly veiled threat.”

“I’m sayin’ we can have a mutually beneficial relationship.” She raised a brow as he continued. “It’s not our policy to work with cops, but since I’m such a nice fuckin’ guy and we’re practically besties, I’m willin’ to work out some kinda compromise.”

“Compromise?”

“Yeah, compromise. We’ve got a pretty fuckin’ good idea on why yall’re sniffin’ around, so me and my business associate are willin’ to impart some information on you and your bum ass partner— call it good will on our part.”

“So you’ll just give us evidence? Just like that?”

“Not for free.”

She raised an incredulous brow. 

Hand on his chest, he feigned offense. “What? You don’t trust me?”

“Call it intuition," she said flatly. "Even if I were to agree, I have nothing I could possibly give you in exchange.”

“Trust me when I say ya do,” he said in a sweet as honey voice, “Imagine what this could do for you. It’s the kinda shit that’ll earn ya respect— real respect. I mean, let’s face it, you’re not gonna get it on your own through hard, honest work. That’s not how the world works. Well, I’ve got your ticket, babe~”

She hesitated before asking, “And what do you get out of this deal?”

“Favors.”

“What kind?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “You’ll know when I call ‘em in.”

She paused and thought, her knee bouncing furiously. 

Getting in bed with a delinquent like him was a criminally stupid idea. It wouldn’t just be morally reprehensible and go against everything she stood for; she could find herself in a world of trouble for even considering the idea— for even having this conversation. And that was before considering whatever ‘favors’ Jan would ask of her. God, she could only imagine the type of favors a creep like him would want. It'd be nothing short of degrading sure...

But... if he truly had as much intel as he was boasting, it wasn’t exactly something she could sit on either.

No, this kind of situation was far beyond her paygrade. She needed Harry or someone more senior than her. But more than anything, Seras needed to get the Hell out of there 

Seras stood and slowly backed away toward the door. She placed a hand on his shoulder to gently push him back onto the couch before he could fully stand. His mouth gaped, the expression on his face nothing short of astonished. 

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t—” She stumbled as her heel snagged the corner of the couch. “It was certainly an… experience, meeting you Mr. Valentine, but I should be getting back since I’ve left my partner alone long eno—.”

A gasp left her throat as her body was forced to the ground. Her shoulder smacked against the hardwood flooring followed by her skull. Stars floated across her vision. Blindly, her fists swung wildly forward. But he was already on top of her. One large hand restrained her wrist beside her head while the other circled her throat firmly but without pressure.

She smacked his hand away and hissed, “Don’t you—” She grunted as he forcefully grasped her face. Seriously?!

“You wanna reconsider that, you stupid bitch? Any other fucking cop in the shit-ass town woulda taken the deal. So why don't ya be a good girl for me and say yes, will ya?"

“Sorry to disappoint you,” she spat, “I just don’t negotiate with criminals.” 

Feet planted firmly beneath her, her hips bucked upward with surprising force. His hands moved forward widely to catch himself. Sinful obscenities escaped his lips as he flailed, and his face met the floor with a satisfying smack instead.  Quickly, fluidly, she threw a leg over top of him before he had the chance to regain his composure. His lips pulled into a hateful sneer. Grunting, his arms wrestled free from hers as she attempted to pin them against his back. An elbow jabbed deep into her ribs. But Seras was unyielding. Determined. Relentless. In their struggle, an arm slid around his throat while the other came up beneath his pit to grapple her forearm and lock them in place. She came to her knees, jerking his torso up along with her and forcing his back into a painful arch. 

Covered in sweat, her face was flushed, chest heaving with every breath. Twisting and writhing in her grasp, the man beneath her was spitting and hissing like a snared animal. 

“C’mon now, the more you struggle, the harder it’ll get.”

Through clenched teeth, he muttered, “You have no idea.” 

“I really should just cuff you right here. I'm sure the commissioner would love to speak with you."

“Sounds kinda kinky.” 

She snarled, “A bit cheeky, aren’t you? Don’t think you’ll be so smart once—!”

All it took was a second. Her grip had slacked ever so slightly. It was less than a second. But in that lone second, his body twisted and slipped out from her grasp. His elbow slammed against her cheek. Seras cried out and clutched her face as she tumbled onto her side. He rolled with her, grappling to pin her down, but her hands caught his. One foot planted itself firmly into his gut to leverage him off though he quickly stabilized himself before she could successfully do so. Her other kicked furiously. Both of them, grunting, growling, like feral animals .

Their movements were frantic, messy, driven by instinct. And him? Stubborn, relentless— quick to boot. With every push, he’d pull even harder, bringing her down with him. 

Her muscles ached and trembled, her chest heaving with every breath as she struggled beneath his weight. She’d become sluggish, as though gravity exerted its force against her and pulled her closer to Earth with each struggle. How long had it been already? It felt as though they'd been fighting for ages yet couldn't have been more than a couple minutes as mo

Just as exhausted, his muscles trembled against hers. He hissed through his teeth, “Getting tired yet, Kitten?”

“Not in the slightest,” she grunted, huffing with every word though her expression mirrored his. 

With his fingers intertwined with hers, one hand pulled while the other pushed. His eyes widened. He was caught off guard. Too bad for him. 

Using the sudden momentum, their bodies rolled until she was on top. Her hips flattened against his, knees planted on either side. Every quick breath filled her lungs with fire, and a dull ache settled into her body, but she couldn't afford to let up now. He made it perfectly clear that if given an inch, no matter how briefly, he'll take the whole mile and then some. Mistakes were too costly. 

Leaning down, her face close to his, she said in a mocking, triumphant tone, “Tired yet, Kitten?” 

The shit-eating-grin that had been near permanently fixed to his face had finally disappeared. His mouth gaped open. Then shut. Their eyes locked. 

Panting heavily, they both sat in total silence for what seemed like forever, neither one of them daring to speak. Then a muscle twitched. She felt and braced for it before he even moved. Her joints locked, weight shifting forward. Jan wasn’t breaking free again— she wouldn’t allow it. But neither his arms nor body moved forward with him. 

Instead, his lips roughly met hers. Messy and desperate— no, hungrily, like he’d been starved and her lips were the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. 

Her eyes shot wide open. A muffled yelp vibrated between them. Seras pulled back, her body suddenly running red hot. A million thoughts ran through her head. But nothing discernible came of it. Instead, a tangled mess of words flowed from her lips. 

The only words she managed to vomit out were, “Are you fucking insane?!” 

A snicker cut through her sputtering. Now propped onto his elbows, his brows lifted as smug satisfaction settled on his face. Her heart dropped into her stomach. 

She let him go. 

You idiot! 

She jerked forward. Too little, too late. Seras was already on her back, staring up at the face suddenly hovering over hers. A hand settled just behind her knee while the other rested by her head. 

Seconds passed. 

Silence.

Neither of them moved a beat. Her heart nearly broke out of her chest.

Should I kick him?

But her body refused to act. Instead, her heart worked quicker, harder. A shuddering breath caught deep in her throat where there should’ve been words. 

He leaned closer. 

Sweat clung to her body as her skin suddenly felt too hot— too sensitive, as though it wasn’t her own and she needed to crawl out of it immediately. The muscles in her abdomen coiled tighter and tighter. Her mind whirled with only a single thought, repeating over again like a record skipping. 

This can’t be happening. This can't be happening!

His lips were on hers again– not gentle but… not as rough as before either. A hand slid up leg and toward her skirt, stopping to trace small circles with his thumb just below the hem before slipping past the cheap fabric. Warm fingers pressed into her folds, massaging the sensitive skin through her panties. She squeezed her eyes shut. An unbearable heat crept up her chest and pooled in her core, a small whimper slipping from her throat. 

Neither the strength nor will to push him off could be summoned, not because she was frightened– well, she was, in fact, scared shitless, but there was something else holding her hostage. That, perhaps, frightened her more than anything else. 

Jan pulled away, half-lidded. He purred, “Havin’ fun yet, Kitten?”

Retaining some of her wit in spite of the throbbing between her legs, she leveraged her hands against his chest and pushed. Not hard. Just enough to put a small bit of distance between them- enough to make a point. 

“That’s a horrible trick,” she said, each word hoarse and airy. 

“You want me to stop?” 

He flicked his finger, striking some part of her she didn’t even know existed. 

Somewhere between frustration and need, Seras fought back the urge to scream. Instead, she clawed into his chest and groaned, glaring directly at him. Another flick, and her teeth dug into her lip as she writhed beneath his touch. It felt good. Really good even. It was a feeling she had rarely experience- one that she never cared to experience before then.

Rarely uttered obscenities slithered from between her teeth in a sharp hiss.

“What’s that, Kitten? I can’t hear you~” 

His fingers massaged that same spot in small, quick circles, each stroke sending electricity pulsing deep within her core. 

“No… hrng— don’t,” she said, panting. 

A soft moan finally rushed from her. Just as she was toeing the edge, his fingers slipped away. She let out a petty whine. 

“Why—”

He mockingly repeated, “No, don’t!” 

Growling, she yanked him down until he was nose to nose with her, her expression a cross between need and murderous intent. Through gritted teeth, she hissed, “Don’t stop.”

Those weren’t the words that should have come out of her mouth. They weren’t even the words that came to mind. It surprised even him. But logic and reason had long since gone out the window. Her mind had gone numb, senseless and irrational. She wasn’t herself anymore. 

This is wrong.

So, so wrong. 

The way she felt— it was messed up. There was a deep hatred; she wanted nothing more than to smack that smug expression off his face, but… that thought alone stirred something inside her. 

She wanted more.

More?

What’s wrong with me?

Writhing, struggling, praying for release, Seras’ body moved as if possessed. Her lips clumsily smashed into his, desperate and inexperienced. Lean arms coiled around her body, pulling her flush against his wiry frame, encircling her as if to trap his prey before devouring her whole. 

Hesitantly, her lips separated. An open invitation, one that was enthusiastically accepted. A moan vibrated in his throat before his tongue rolled over hers. Her nose wrinkled. It was boozy, and the smell of cigarettes and incense was almost overwhelming. Every pass of his left a stinging trail in her mouth, tingling, before moving down her jaw and neck to suck and nip at the delicate skin. He overflowed her senses like a bad decision that she knew would come to bite her in the ass. 

A hand lightly wandered from his chest down his navel, his skin twitching beneath her lithe fingers before pausing just at his waistband. She hesitated. But him? His hand had already wandered beneath the hem of her skirt again, tugging on cotton undergarments before tearing them off her completely and thrusting inside her. Fingers curled, scissoring and stroking at her slick inner sex. 

Seras squirmed and whimpered. He whispered something against her ear, his warm breath tickling her neck. What was said didn’t matter one way or another to her. His fingers had curved upward and found their mark— a rough patch deep that she was wholly unaware of deep in her core. Just a little pressure turned her into a senseless, blubbering mess. 

The muscles in her abdomen coiled again. Trembling uncontrollably, she gasped and moaned as her walls tightened and spasmed around his fingers until, finally, she shattered. Seras cried out. Nails bit into his skin as convulsions wracked her body. Her hips bucked against her will, driving his fingers deeper and edging her further into her climax. 

His fingers eased out of her just as her body slacked. She shuddered. It was suddenly cold, empty, yet something was still throbbing and pulsing within her. Panting, she peered beyond the haze just as he brought his soaked fingers to his lips. He grinned, pleased that she was watching, before running his tongue along their length to lap up her juices.

Grimacing, she breathed, “That’s disgusting.”

“Don’t ruin the mood.”

“It’s just,” she stammered, bringing her arms to her chest as if to hide or sink into herself. Tiny, wriggling germs came to mind. “It’s a bit lewd… and not very clean.” 

He teased, “You’re so fucking uptight. What’re you? A virgin?”

The room suddenly seemed hot. Too hot. A pitched whine left her throat as she shifted uncomfortably, mumbling softly. 

A brow raised, lips twitching. It was like he was suppressing laughter as though she had said something incredibly funny. A fever crept up her chest and neck. Suddenly, eye contact seemed impossible. 

“Are you? Are you?”

She didn’t dignify it with a response. 

He purred, “Well, ain’t I lucky.” His fingers hooked into her thighs as he pulled her hips flush against his. 

She froze. 

Something hard, solid had pushed against her entrance. It twitched. Her heart jumped into her throat. 

Oh God. 

“Impressed? I knew you would be~” 

Her brows furrowed as she scoffed, “Oh– come off it!” 

“That’s the plan.” As if to make a point, he ground his hips against hers. 

A hand darted to her collar before ripping it down and exposing her breasts. She withdrew her arms to cover herself, though he quickly swatted them away to cup each one. Her nipples quickly hardened into stiff, rosy peaks as he rolled them between his thumb and forefinger. His lips curled, the arrogance having been washed away with half-lidded need and lust. 

“Fuck, you’re hot,” he moaned, leaning in close until his lips hovered just over her chest. 

A pierced tongue flicked at the soft, pink bud, the cooled metal forcing a squeal from her, until he fully took it in her mouth. Electricity licked down her spine. She whined, jerking as he rolled the sensitive peak between his teeth and tongue. His hips were already grinding against hers, slow, rhythmic and paced as though he were savoring the act. But Seras? An unbearable heat had already overtaken her, suffocating her every breath. 

She grappled her legs around his waist and rolled him until she was straddling his hips, glaring down at him. His brow raised. 

He pouted. “I’m supposed to be the one on top.” 

She didn’t care. Pointed fingers clawed at his jacket until the zipper snapped and revealed his chest. Pierced nipples- how utterly shocking. Hands splayed on his bare chest, her hips were already awkwardly grinding hard and fast against him, though she couldn’t get it quite right. Seras cried out in frustration. 

“Bitch, that hurts!”

Despite his complaints, Jan didn’t push her off. Instead, his hands slid up her legs to rest on her hips. She hissed and fought against him, but he slapped the side of her ass hard. In turn, the palm of her hand met his cheek. 

Do what you’re fucking told. 

Her eyes met his defiantly. 

Make. Me. 

Air was forced from her lungs as her skull cracked against the floor. Somehow, he’d gotten her on her stomach. A low growl filled her ears. She twisted to look— that stupid, shit-eating expression had finally been purged from his face though replaced with something far more pissed off. Her lips curled upward, mocking that same grin she hated so damn much. She cried out as he smacked her ass hard again. The skin stung, a lingering red mark pulsing where she’d been struck. Another hand clutched a handful of blonde hair and roughly yanked her to her knees. 

“If you’re gonna act like a bitch…”

Fingers wrapped around her pretty little throat as his body pressed into hers, the warmth of his breath against her nape sending shivers down her spine. His lips brushed against her shoulder, only briefly, before sinking his teeth deep into her flesh. She yowled. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and down her breast. Her vision blurred and static filled her ears. The world suddenly spun around her even as he released her. 

Tears welled in the corners of her eyes and streaked down her cheeks. Seras’ body sank to the floor with a pitiful whimper. Fingers laced and stroked her hair. She turned her head, the betrayal and anger evident in her glare though it went ignored as he buried his nose into her neck. 

Inhaling, he murmured something against her skin. “... smell good…” 

Her fists clenched. She was exhausted, her muscles sore and overworked. Her knees ached horribly from kneeling for so long. The flip-flopping between rough and gentle left her anxious, almost miserable. It was as though they’d been laying there doing anything but fucking for hours.

She pleaded, “Please…”

She ground her hips against his pelvis, eliciting a soft moan from him as she left a sticky, wet splotch on his pants. His hand snaked down her side, caressing the red, angry mark he’d left on her ass earlier before pulling away. She groaned, frustrated, only to be stunned to silence as he rubbed the broad head of his cock against her. He shifted then, all too quickly, fully slid into her with a shuddering breath. 

Seras cried out, shuddering and arching her back partially from pain, though it quickly subsided. His body rocked against hers, first slowly before picking up speed, each thrust sending him deep inside her. The aching of her bruised and overexerted body had almost entirely melted away along with her rational self. A pitiful, mewing creature was all that was left. Fingers laced with hers as he pulled himself closer, the other settling just below on her stomach.

It was a strangely intimate moment with someone whose guts she hated. It could have almost been mistaken for something far more gentle and loving than it actually was. 

“Fucking tight bitch,” he breathed into her neck, nipping and kissing at the tender flesh. 

Panting with each word, she said, “I hate it when you talk like that.”

Jan jerked his hips, eliciting a soft moan from Seras. He was pounding her harder and harder. White hot pleasure flashed behind her eyes as though each thrust sent lightning shooting through her. Her knees ached and thighs trembled uncontrollably— she would’ve collapsed right then if he hadn’t effectively locked her in place. 

A finger had found its way between her folds, stroking her already sore clit. A gasping sob slipped from her throat. 

Her legs tensed as her back arched. Her hips bucked wildly as her walls spasmed around him. Pitiful cries reverberated off the walls, her whole body electrified until she finally slumped forward into a sweaty, blubbering mess. A tinge of shame and embarrassment briefly washed over her, as though the whole club had gone totally silent and could hear her being defiled.  

“What else,” he asked in a low, hoarse voice. 

“Huh?”

He slid out of her, giving her a brief moment’s rest before suddenly flipping her on her back. Hazily, she stared up at him for the first time in quite a while. She never got a full look at him before; she still couldn’t with the torn jacket obscuring most of his body. Her gaze wandered down his pelvis, noting how slender and lean he really was, until her eyes fell on his…

She bit her lip.

His… cock was resting just below her navel, throbbing angrily and weeping thick, sticky beads of cum from the head onto her skin. A barbell piercing glinted just below the head. Half-lidded, his lips curled when he caught her staring. Seras might have died from embarrassment if she wasn’t so strung out from the beatings her body took earlier. 

Shame, however, was never in his dictionary. 

Jan took himself in hand, stroking along the length of his shaft a few times before guiding it back into her swollen entrance. There wasn’t any pain or the sensation of being stretched, though it wasn’t as pleasurable as before either. Seras was fully spent; her body had nothing left to give even as he fucked her senseless. 

He leaned into her ear and rasped, “What fucking else do hate about me?”

“Are you serious?” 

He took a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. He growled, “Bitch, what else?” 

Seras clenched her teeth and, with a stutter, hesitantly said, “I-I hate the way you talk.” She yelped as his teeth dug into her neck. Hadn’t she taken enough of a beating already? “I hate that you’ve bitten me. Twice.”

He jerked. His jaw slacked, releasing her from his vice grip though remaining buried in her neck. She hooked a leg on his hip. Her arms snaked around his back, nails biting into his skin and forcing a delicious moan from his mouth. It dawned on her that, for the first time that night, she had more power over him than he did her. 

“I can’t stand the way you laugh or how every other word is something so obscene,” she purred, raking her nails down his back. “This is probably the only thing you’re good for.”

He muttered something into her neck, though the words were lost in translation as his pace became faster, more erratic. For once, he couldn’t talk— at least not coherently. Good. His body pressed tightly against hers, teeth scraping down her neck. She growled, frustrated. She hated that he was still doing it. 

Seras hissed, “Bloody pig— See how you like it!” 

Without hesitation, she lunged forward and sunk her teeth into his neck. His muscles tense, pulsing and twitching as he slammed into her one final time and yelled, “FUCK!”

His brows furrowed, his leg bouncing furiously as he stared down at the thinning crowd below. Specifically, Luke eyed the sandy-haired cop that weaved through said crowd, searching for the partner his brother had brought to the back ages ago. The very cop he was supposed to have dealt with one way or another. 

That damn brother of his. It was always something with him. 

Even with the music, he could hear the shrieking. At first, he was ready to break the door down and put the poor floozy out of her misery, before she could go running to her partner to report his little brother. Then came the moaning. Of course it did. 

There were few things he wanted to know about Jan— lord, did he know too much already— least of all what he sounded like during sex. And he got an earful. God, it would’ve been a miracle to have woken up deaf that morning. 

“That idiot,” he hissed, “I swear if he’s on the couch again.”

The door creaked. He turned an incredulous eye just as the disheveled cop came bursting out, sweaty, face beat red and hair a mess. His brother’s jacket was thrown over her shoulders, likely to conceal whatever his brother had done to her. She didn’t even seem to notice him, her eyes turned down as she ran past him to meet with her partner. 

Luke could hardly discern their exchange, only that it was very brief and left the male cop incredibly confused as she walked away from him. At least they were out of their club and, more importantly, out of their business. 

He took one last sip from his wine glass before gliding toward the door, peering at his brother who was spread out on the couch with a freshly lit cigarette in hand. His new couch. 

He growled, “Are you kidding me right now?”

“What? I didn’t do shit.” A brow raised as Luke gestured to the furniture. “I didn’t break that fuckin’ rule.”

“Oh, you didn’t?”

Snidely, Jan said, “Lay off me, will ya? I didn’t fuck her on your bougie ass couch.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Did you at least accomplish what I told you to?”

Jan paused, took an extended drag from his cigarette, and flatly cursed, “Fuck.”