cc by wikimedia / Emily

cc by wikimedia / Emily

Summary: This story takes place outside the NCIS universe and puts the characters into a different setting altogether: a society in which women are slaves. In this setting, Kate is a rebel, a warrior woman, who has been hiding in the woods for years. But one day she gets captured by a disturbingly handsome lord…
Rating: R
Pairing: Kate/Gibbs of course! ;)
Disclaimer: Character names are not mine, yadda yadda… Just the setting and interpretation of characters is my idea.
Category: AU, Romance, Kink
Warning: BDSM-related setting! Also angry sex!

A/N: This story is part of my “Another Dream” series, which consists of all BDSM related draft-like stories. Probably slightly different in style then what you are used to from me. It’s at times a bit darker, but I tried to keep it romantic. In this series you may find violence or violent scenarios though… So if you are more into the usual stuff, or a hardcore feminist, or just opposed to porn-like writings in general, please stop reading at this point!

Thanks: This small piece was kind of inspired by xdawnfirex’s (Rainne) story “The Floods cannot drown it”, which can be found here on her LiveJournal.

 

Attention
This is one of my older stories written before 2009. My style in this story differs greatly, due to lack of experience. One of these days, if I get the time, I plan on revising these older stories thoroughly.

Until then, please excuse the many flaws, and rest assured, I know better now. ;) (Or at least I hope so.)


The twinkle of the silver blade in the pale moonlight, which he saw in the corner of his eye, was the only warning he got. He spun around and grabbed her wrist, only to feel her other hand punch him right into his stomach. If she hadn’t carried a deadly weapon in her hand and the intention to use it in her eyes, he would have laughed at the almost-softness of her punch.

„Kate!“ he barked and tried to twist her hand. She squealed, but that sound of pain immediately turned into one of blind rage.

„Bastard!“ she screamed into his face. It was his own fault, she repeated to herself over and over again. She had warned him to let her go, otherwise she would kill him. But he had just chuckled, and ordered this– this lackey of his- what was his name? Tony. He had ordered Tony to let the net down which she was captured in, and then bound her and brought her here into his hideout.

She knew the woods. Her father had raised her in them, and taught her everything she needed to know to survive and fight so that she would one day be free, not a slave to a caste of a few chosen royals.
And she had put the knowledge to good use. She had trained, and eventually been able to build up her own little resistance.

Until three days ago, everything had been fine. Until she had met him, her self-declared master.

She fell to the ground when his hand hit her face hard. For a few seconds, she was blinded by the pain, and so she could only hear the clattering sound of the dagger somewhere to her left. Blindly she reached for it, clasped the handle tightly in her hand and pounced on him again. Her anger was deep, as was her hurt. He had used her to his will, manipulated her and then simply let her down.

He had seduced her during the previous night, whispered sweet nothings into her ear and captured her heart with his mouth only to drop it into the cold of the night afterwards, leaving her lonely and shattered. And she would not forgive him. Not for capturing her, not for tricking her and most importantly not for making her giving herself up to him.

Their bodies crashed hard to the ground from the force of the pouncing of her small body against his. He groaned in surprise, their hands quickly battling for the knife before he found it pressed against his throat. Her face was just centimeters above his and her disheveled hair covered them both like a curtain.

His hand grabbed her wrist in a steel grip to drag her arm away from his throat, but that only served to make her increase the pressure of the sharp blade to his throat.
Only when a warm, salty drop hit his lips he realized the tears in her eyes. His grip softened.

„Kate, let me go.“

„No!“ she hissed into his face, her breath interrupted by soft sobs which she hated herself for. She was a warrior. She should not show fear, nor compassion – or love towards an enemy.

„Kate,“ he persisted, his voice calm and low now. „If you kill me, you will be surrounded by dozens of my soldiers, who will immediately end your life.“

„I don’t care!“ she pressed out under shaky breath. „At least I would not be your slave, you lying, arrogant scumbag!“

Calmly, he stared back into her dark eyes which were filled with so much pain and heart-break.

„Did you think I would simply accept it?“ she snapped against his face, wiping the tears with the back of her hand. „A slave has no right to emotion, as she is simply a thing to play with, isn’t that what you believe?“

„Kate.“ His voice became louder, an obvious warning lying in it. „Drop the knife, and I will forget what happened.“

She chuckled under tears. „Oh, you think it’s that easy? You think I can forget what you did to me just as easily? You took everything away from me! My freedom, my dignity, and my heart only to crush them under that arrogant foot of yours. But you will not get to my pride. I would rather die along with you then let you get away with that!“

Their eyes had locked deeply during her passionate speech and eventually he let go of her hand. His ice-blue eyes bore into hers, when he immediately felt the steel push painfully against the skin of his throat. There was something else that he felt though, and that was the shaking of her hand. He was sure she had never killed before, and he wasn’t going to make it easy on her by putting up a fight.

„Then do it, my sweet beauty. Kill me.“ His voice was calm, and almost tender, and his fingers touched her naked knee softly.

„What?“ she snapped shakily, wiping her tears again, and glared back at him. „Don’t just give me permission! Fight!“

„I won’t fight you, honey. If you want to kill me, you will have to do it now. Go on, you called yourself a warrior when I captured you!“

She let out a cry of frustration, and felt her body shake in confusion. „But what kind of honorable warrior kills an enemy when he’s not putting up any defense?“

„You want to see me dead, kill me. But do it quick, because in about a moment I am going to disarm you and then you will be in real trouble,“ he hissed and his tone did not only send chills down her spine but made clear that he was capable of what he had just threatened to do.

She knew the procedure. Her father had trained her dozens of times on animals. She knew that she would just have to cut his throat and it would be over. It was so close… so close…
The silver dagger started to shake in her hands while she kept staring into those eyes. Eyes that had looked down at her so lovingly and tender last night while he was making sweet love to her and pushed her to heights she had never imagined to exist. She knew that weakness was a warrior’s greatest flaw – and it was this moment that she realized that he was her weakness.

Sobs left her mouth and she bit her full lower lip in desperation.

„What is it?“ he teased softly, and there was the same tenderness in his voice as last night, just that now she knew that it was fake. „Do it, brave warrior.“

She growled lowly, pressing the weapon against his throat. A drop of red blood pearled onto the silvery blade and when she beheld it, her eyes widened in shock. Intuitively, she loosened her grip, primal fear to have hurt him suddenly taking possession of her. He saw the shock reflected in her eyes.

„I can’t,“ she whispered almost soundlessly to herself in complete disbelief. „Why… why?“

This content is property of http://www.kimberley-jackson.com.

He seized the moment, grabbed her wrist tightly, hooked his leg between hers to make her loose balance and turned them around, pinning her beneath him. Her hand which held the dagger was slammed to the ground by the forced he applied and she lost her grip on the weapon, hearing its clattering sound somewhere on the floor above her head.

“Told you to hurry,” he rasped against her lips, before he closed them forcefully with his mouth, demanding entrance with his tongue. She tasted sweet and female and so fragile. But she had tried to kill him. He would teach her a lesson – a lesson in obedience.

He pinned her wrists with the strong grip of one of his hands above her head and them moved the other one down between their bodies, removing the thin silk skirt that she was wearing. His mouth devoured hers almost violently, smothering the sounds of protest that she was making.
With a forceful move, he ripped the delicate skirt off her slender waist, and then covered her female core with his hand. She wriggled against him, trying to free herself, and hated her body for betraying her again, for falling for his closeness and reacting to it. She despised the fact that he was able to arise lust and blind desire by just a few touches of his.

He groaned when he found her core wet and ready, and quickly opened his pants. She moaned in weak protest into his mouth and managed to turn her head.

“Don’t! Bastard! I will…” The rest of the sentence was reduced to another series of moans, which he swallowed in the next kiss.
He moved his hand over her without ever stopping his assault on her mouth, rediscovering every inch of her smooth skin. She was a beauty, a jewel which was almost impossible to find with a fascinating spirit to her. He wanted her to warm his bed at night, not just this once, but every night from now on. But for some reason she had decided to hate him – so he would have to deal with this hate.

His lips bit her lower lip and her chin almost roughly, while he position himself in between her legs. She wanted to growl in anger, but the sound was softened by the moan which escaped her.
He softened his assault on her skin with a soft chuckle and then thrust into her forcefully.
Initially, her body tensed and he knew she had to feel discomfort at his sudden intrusion, but he didn’t care. He wanted to punish her for her attack by making her writhe under him again in need and passion – by making her beg him not to stop.

Slowly, he moved out of her, only to thrust back in even deeper. She screamed into his mouth and fisted her hands in his grip. He chuckled breathlessly, looking down into her face that was framed by her disheveled, brown hair. “You’re mine.” he rasped against her cheek, and thrust into her again, enjoying the soft squeal that she made.

“Oh… I hate you!” Her breathing was uneven and she was writhing under him in a futile and weak attempt to offer resistance. “You’re a bastard! I hate you!”

“Then why didn’t you kill me, my beautiful Katie?” he whispered into her ear, his next thrust being softer and hitting just the right spot inside her. Her hips jerked and she moaned involuntarily.

“Because…” she turned her head and breathed in the scent of him, male and intoxicating. She hated him for doing it again to her – for making her love him. “Because I wouldn’t kill a coward.” Her breathless reply was accompanied by a soft bite into his earlobe which made him groan, and bury himself all the way inside her with his next thrust.

He breathed in her scent and smiled against her neck, “A coward? Wouldn’t that rather be the person who couldn’t kill an enemy?” Another thrust, followed by a high-pitched sound of hers, a mixture between desire and revolt against what he said.

“No!” she gasped, her hips involuntarily pushing back against him. How he was able to do this to her, she didn’t know. “A coward is a person…” Another moan, when his free hand twitched her nipple. “…who refuses a fight.” she eventually ended.

“Well… you are right in one point, Katie.” he rasped, and moved his hand lower, until he found the little bundle of nerves at her center that he knew would push her higher. His thumb immediately hit the right spot and she reared up in unexpected ecstasy. He smiled, fascinated by the sight of her. “I don’t want to fight you. I want to do this to you… over and over again.” He pressed his lips against her neck and sucked her over-sensitive skin while continuing to teasing her clit. “I want to shackle you to my bed to keep you from running away, until everything you can think of is how much you enjoy my presence.” She writhed under him, high-pitched little moans coming from her mouth. “Do you like this, my beautiful warrior?”

She opened her desire-clouded eyes and stared at him, her whole consciousness drugged by his words, his presence, his eyes. “Yes…” Her whimper came almost desperately.

She wriggled her hands in his grip and managed to free one. He was about to grab it again to keep her pinned when he realized she was nowhere near reaching for the dagger, but her hand came down to his shoulder, clutching it tightly as if he was her only hold.
He increased his thrusts, and sweetened his touches.

“Oh God…” A silent tear made its way down her cheek.

“Shhh…” he whispered against her lips, and kissed her tear away. “Let it go, Katie… come for me. I want you to shatter in my arms and scream my name tonight.”

“No!” she bit her lips and fisted the hand that was lying on his shoulder. “Don’t do that…”

“What am I doing, my sweet?” he teased her and nipped her earlobe with his teeth. “I want you to be mine.”

Her moans turned into pants, when he thrust faster and more erratic in and out of her, drawing her with him on the road of passion. He swallowed her sounds in a series of hot open-mouthed kisses, the hand that was still pinning her wrist moving up slightly to entwine his fingers with hers. His thrusts were deep now, his rhythm quick and they were both quickly approaching the edge.

Kate struggled to free her legs from under his and when she managed to do so, she wrapped them in ecstasy around his hips causing both of them to moan at the intensity of the new closeness she created by this shift.

“Oh God, Katie…” His voice was hoarse and low, and vibrating against her oversensitive skin.

“I hate you…” she gasped, closing her eyes when he hit the right spot inside her over and over again. “Oh God!… I… I hate…” She moved her head up to kiss him desperately. Her free hand grasped his naked shoulder, and then moved up to entangle in his hair.

His hot breath made her shiver when it hit her shoulder from his soft chuckle. “That’s right. Continue to hate me… if it makes you react like this. Come on… I know you’re close.”

“Yes,” she panted and arched her back, her head falling back. He moved his lips over her throat, biting her softly where she had hurt him earlier. And then he felt her movements become erratic, her breaths become irregular and her hands clutching him and holding on to him like he was the only steady ground on earth. He moved up and sucked softly at her lower lip.

“Scream my name, Katie…”

“No…”

His teeth scratched at her lip, biting it softly and tasting blood, inducing a whimper from her. “Do it,” he demanded tenderly.

And then she shattered. Her inner muscles spasmed around him and she threw her head back in unbelievable ecstasy. “Oh God! Gibbs!!” She panted his name over and over again, tears running down her cheeks as she knew that she belonged to him. Not her body, or her workforce – but her heart.

He kissed her deeply, over and over again, thrusting into her forcefully until he spilled his hot fluids inside of her. Time seemed to stop for a short moment, and turned into an eternity.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Kate realized that her second hand was free, and she reached around his tall and well-muscled body to hug him.

“God, you will be the death of mine,” he rasped eventually and lifted his head, still breathless. She opened her eyes and met his gaze, and there it was again: the closeness, the tenderness and the sweetness that only young love can know.
Kate lifted her hand and placed it on his cheek, her thumb brushing away a drop of perspiration on his nose. Then her forefinger traced an invisible way down his sweat-covered skin to his throat, where the wound from her earlier attack was still visible. She lifted her head and then tenderly licked the drops of blood away with her tongue, feeling his groan vibrate in his throat. Her hands moved into his hair to hold him in place, and when she was finished, she simply breathed in his scent.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he whispered softly, and moved his hand through her long, chestnut-colored hair. “Next time I will make love to you very slow all night-long. Wouldn’t you prefer that?”

She remained silent.

“You are mine, little warrior.”

With a sad expression in her eyes, she pushed him up a little so that she could wriggle out from underneath him. “Yeah,” she whispered, slowly lifting herself to her knees, taking the shreds of her silk skirt with trembling fingers and sad eyes. “Yes, I’m yours.”

And then she got up and walked through the room to sit down on his bed in the far corner. Tears were falling down on the delicate material of her silk skirt, and she discarded it, realizing that it was torn. She pulled one of the thin blankets around her shoulders, gazing out the window. Slowly he lifted himself and touched her shoulders from behind, placing a soft kiss on them. “You don’t need to cry. I will never hurt you.”

She sobbed, and the sheer desperation that was hidden in that sound tore his heart apart. Tenderly, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back to lean against his broad chest.

“The problem is just that-” she whispered, her head turning to look at the dagger on the ground, which was glistening whitely in the soft light of the moon that was shining in through the stony window. “-even if I am yours, you can never be mine. I’m just your slave…”

~ The End (Nov 05, 2008) ~