He’d proved her right. She’d stuck by him and got him back, though he said he’d never left. And then he went on to prove exactly why he was her very best operative, even if she’d never put it in those words anywhere else than in her own mind. His next mission was a huge success. If he’d have screwed up again it would have been her head that rolled, but thankfully, he was on great form. Vesper was finally out of his system, though always haunting him. M could see it in his eyes. She felt for him. Their job never saw any hearts unbroken. Her golden boy had fallen from grace, but risen like a phoenix. She’d been right to promote him after all. And she knew now, unequivocally, that she could trust him.
The following assignment should have been trickier, but between James and Q Branch they’d been able to nip it in the bud. Bond was fast building a solid reputation for himself; superseding his loose-cannon image and making it easier for M to forgive his cheek, for the most part.
They both felt it. Something had changed over the months. The trust she’d sought for so long seemed set in stone. She couldn’t admit it, but a part of her was considering her legacy. She needed to know she’d raised a generation of operatives and officers who she could trust to take things forward. With her husband passing away, it seemed more important than ever to pass the mantle. Many remarks had been made on her ‘usually long tenure’ as Chief of MI6. But she wasn’t done yet.
She was on her way to brief Bond on a typically gorgeous island that he was no doubt lapping up. She couldn’t blame him. She never stopped missing field work; especially in exotic locations. At this point, however, she felt lucky to have clearance to make the journey. The SIS had become ‘twitchy’ ever since her personal bodyguard betrayed her and she’d had to fight fiercely for her freedom, all the while feeling like an overprotected teenage girl.
She smiled softly, just out of sight of her security detail, as she looked down and saw the shadow of her helicopter glide over the tranquil and sparkling blue ocean. Even in the most dangerous of situations and countries, with everything at stake, M always felt safer in the hot sun, as if it were on her side. As they touched down, she felt rejuvenated, keen to tread on the shimmering tarmac just a few hundred metres from where Bond was staying.
The heat made her skin tingle. She was somehow at home. She took a deep breath and tried to conceal the dreamy look in her eyes as she was chaperoned to the hotel.
“No need to wait,” she informed her men simply. “Go and refresh yourselves. I’ll call when I need you.”
They nodded politely, if uncertainly, and left her in the hotel lobby. She sighed. Free at last. She headed for the room she knew James was in, feeling lighter with every step.
She knocked on the door. No answer. She knocked again. “James,” she hissed impatiently.
The door opened and she was met with a scowl. “That wasn’t the secret knock,” he chided, eyes twinkling. He was still dressing, apparently following a shower, as his hair was still damp and his skin pink.
“Oh don’t be silly,” she said coolly as she stepped past him and into the room.
James watched her as he continued buttoning up his shirt. There was something different about her. He closed the door with a smirk. “No bodyguards?”
“Nope,” she said.
“Is that wise?” he asked with a note of disapproval.
“They’d probably try to kill me anyway. I know I’m safe. In here.”
He gazed at her for a moment. Her hair seemed golden rather than white, her face glowing as if she’d filled up on sunlight.
“Island life suits you, M,” he said warmly. “Perhaps you should retire here.”
She pursed her lips and her blue eyes turned cold instantly.
James felt himself recoil minutely before realising his faux pas. “Not that retirement is on the menu for a very, very long time…”
“Yes, thank you OO7,” she said curtly. “Shall we get down to business?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes ma’am.”
“Still waiting for final details. There will be a package at reception for you around 7pm. Our man has you booked on two of the island package events tomorrow, where you’ll be joining OO5. Between the two of you I expect you to have this situation contained by sundown.”
James sighed. She made ‘the situation’ sound like an escaped pet, rather than an international crisis potentially bankrupting the British government. And not in a nice, wholesome ‘billions in debt’ way.
He swallowed. “Of course,” he said, not without a tinge of sarcasm.
M’s eyes narrowed. “Additionally, as glowing as the report was on your most recent mission, I am still waiting for the completed paper work. If you wish to get paid.”
“Been a bit busy, ma’am,” he muttered, now quite annoyed.
“Yes, quite,” she said happily. “Though I did give you two weeks respite.” She turned away from him and walked the length of his luxuriant hotel room, hands behind her back as if expecting the quarters. She stopped at the window.
James huffed. She was splitting hairs now. All because of the retirement remark.
“Ma’am?” he began.
She turned around, looking entirely boss-ish, no longer the golden creature who’d arrived just minutes ago.
He clenched his jaw, thinking fast. “How was the trip?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Fine.” She made no move to elaborate.
“I trust you got my email about Vaughan?” prompted James.
She turned away again. “Yes. Excellent work, OO7. You’ve truly proven your worth this time.”
“So you do trust me now?”
She spun back around with a fierce glare. He froze.
“Yes, James,” she said sternly. “But that’s not what I meant. There are other people watching besides myself. People who needed to know my faith in you wasn’t misguided.”
He had the grace to appear chastened. “Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“Don’t take everything so personally,” she continued to scold. “I’ve vouched for you for some years now. Don’t kid yourself that it’s something I do without good reason. If I didn’t trust you, you’d either be dead or in jail by now.”
He gave her a long look. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said sincerely. “Only I feel permanently on trial.”
“You are,” she said. “We all are. But I am not the jury.”
She walked back towards him slowly.
“Just the executioner?” quipped James.
“If only,” M said dryly. She looked up at him. “We’re in the dock together. You do get that, don’t you?”
He gave her a soft smile and a nod. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And don’t assume my sentence would be more lenient than yours. Quite the opposite.”
“You’ve made your point.” He shot her a challenging glance and crossed to the dresser, pouring himself a drink.
“Thirsty?” he asked flippantly.
“Yes,” she said, feeling now that it had been a long journey.
He poured her the same and handed it to her. Her eyes were sad as she took the drink. She looked right at him.
He frowned. “Cheers,” he said, still regarding her. What was wrong with her?
They both took a sip, eyes locked. A long moment.
“You’re all I trust now, James,” she said quietly. “Don’t let me down.”
His heart fluttered. He shifted on his feet. She was very, very close to him. “Never,” he said firmly, still gazing at her. The room seemed incredibly warm. There were tiny beads of sweat on her creamy skin, her hair dampening slightly where it touched her forehead. He knew it was unwise, but nevertheless he found himself gently brushing the hair back off her brow.
She didn’t flinch. Her eyes drifted closed a moment as he did it.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t trust me,” he mumbled forlornly. Her hand simply met his.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t trust me,” she croaked. Her eyes filled with surrender and James felt his body respond. His hand moved to cup her chin.
“Oh but I do,” he said. “Absolutely.”
He kissed her and she kissed him back. A glass was dropped while the other was discarded onto some surface or other. Heat was between them, inside them and all around them and they held each other close, kissing hungrily.
They moaned into each other’s mouths. James pulled back a moment. “This really is your climate, isn’t it, M?”
Her eyes shone with mischief. “Yes,” she said with a shrug. “One I don’t get to enjoy so much these days.”
“Mmm,” breathed James. “Perhaps I should make sure you have something to remember while you’re imprisoned behind your desk in London.”
She kissed him, taking him by surprise for a moment before he matched her intensity. They shuffled to the bed, knowing exactly what they would do. They started to pull at one another’s clothing.
“When was the last time you illicitly tumbled an agent into bed while in the field?” asked James, amused by M’s eagerness. His shirt was long gone; hers gaped open revealing what James had once called ‘the breasts of the empire’. Her skirt remained in position.
She raised an eyebrow as she pushed him down on the bed. “Never you mind,” she said, emanating command and causing James skin to tingle. She smiled and straddled him, enjoying the flush that had come into his face. “Suffice to say I require a top up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said James politely. He made to manoeuvre her in a way she could only assume was one of his trademark moves.
“Oh no,” she said, stopping him by placing both palms firmly on his shoulders. “It’s time you got a taste of your own medicine. Stay.” She unfastened his trousers and immediately wrapped her warm hand around his hard cock. He groaned in spite of himself.
With a knowing smile and never breaking eye contact, she gently worked his length until he showed signs of dizziness, occasionally arching up off the bed in protest against her painfully slow pace.
He opened his eyes to see her deftly removing her knickers, before lifting her skirt around her waist and shimmying back into position. She tugged his trousers down around his thighs.
James gasped. She was really going to do this. He felt with his fingers, moaning to find her silky and wet. He pressed harder and she sighed loudly, pushing herself against his digits. He diligently smoothed and caressed her sex as she hovered above him, her breasts almost popping out of her blouse. Those he massaged with his other hand. She rutted almost serenely, savouring each sizzling nerve.
She thrust hard and his tentative fingers were suddenly sheathed inside her. Now she gave a guttural cry and her eyes snapped open, flashing at him threateningly. Only her lopsided smile reassured him things were going to plan. He swirled his thumb over her clit and she bucked before pulling his hand away from her heat and reaching for his straining length. She aligned them both; James eyes widening as it struck him this was actually happening. His hands went to her hips as he helped guide her down.
With a sly smile, she sank down on him, her slick heat maddening. They moaned and gasped together. He threw his head back, his bottom clenching frantically, but M dictated the pace. She leaned in over him and kissed him with breathtaking tenderness. “Slowly,” she whispered.
She sat back and flexed her hips, watching for his response. His pupils were blown, his lips swollen and parted. Her hands rested on his chest, the vibrations of his fast-beating heart travelling up her arms. She flexed again. With one hand, she returned to unbutton her blouse completely. It fell open, revealing her gleaming white lacy bra and two very ample, beautiful breasts.
James thrust hard and she almost toppled off him, but steadied herself with her hands on the sheets. He grinned as he took a dangling breast in his mouth. She was moving a little faster now. He sucked and licked her nipple before moving to the next one. With her leaning forward, he had more leverage which he made full use of. She was becoming noisy.
As much as he was enjoying himself, the view wasn’t quite as good. He helped her back until she was sitting square on top of him again, her breasts bobbing fabulously in front of him. Her muscles were torturous, as she squeezed and writhed quicker now, but with all the same intensity. He gripped her hips again.
“Come for me,” he breathed longingly.
“Very well,” she said with a smirk. Her eyes clouded over as she began to ride him in earnest, her pleasure clearly building beyond the point of no return. Her head fell back. She was crying out now, and though it was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard he hoped her security detail were a good distance away. Her voice was unmistakable, and given the circumstances, officers might assume she was being murdered rather than pleasured.
She was meticulous; one hand on his nipple which almost made him pass out, and the other slipped to her crotch were her fingers were rubbing in time with her hips. This was a woman who knew how to get what she wanted. The thought almost made him come, but he stayed still and enjoyed the view. He wanted to touch her, but watching her was too much of a privilege.
She tightened around him with a throaty groan; her body tensing and slowing as her climax rocked through her. She came with a series of gasps; her face a picture of ecstasy as her body clung to him. She rode out the undulations, falling forward as she began to slump. Her eyes were screwed shut, her mouth open wide, her hair now damp and stuck to her face. She never stopped moving, her hips still rolling gently and slowly as her eyes opened to gleam at him.
She could tell he hadn’t come yet. He gazed up at her, clearly affected by witnessing her orgasm. She flopped forward and kissed his chest, then his throat, then his mouth; still rocking against him. She cupped his face, caressing his cheek. Her blue eyes were dark and soft as she smiled down at him. She stayed close, still squeezing him with small, tender movements. Her muscles were torturing him.
She leaned in and whispered in his ear. “James, I want to feel you come inside me.”
She felt his hands slide from her hips and grab her backside, almost in panic. He gasped, thrusting up into her carefully, determined to adhere to the rhythm she’d set. Any faster and it would be over all too soon. He loved the feel of her around him; the look of peace in her eyes.
She smiled. It was all she did. The kind of smile that M never gave him. One of absolute affection.
He came suddenly with a soft cry. She moaned as she felt him splashing inside her as he squirmed underneath her. He lay quite still, panting, eyes wide in surprise, as they came down together. She carefully dismounted him, lying on her side and feeling gloriously decadent with his essence between her legs.
“How did you do that?” he asked when he caught his breath. “That was witchcraft.”
She sighed. “Men like you are the reason women like me were burned at the stake. You couldn’t understand us so you murdered us.”
“Not exactly the pillow talk I was hoping for,” grumbled James, still limp and dazed.
She chuckled and kissed him on the cheek. It was her turn to brush the hair off his face. They regarded each other in silence for some time.
“Don’t let me down,” she repeated in a whisper.
They shared a look, then he rolled on top of her, taking her in his arms like dashing hero. “Never,” he also repeated, quite masterfully. “Don’t you listen, woman?” He gave her his cheekiest smile and kissed her thoroughly.
She moaned under his ministrations, enjoying the feel of this strong, younger man between her thighs, and the weight of him pressing down on her. It was so good. If only…
She gasped suddenly as she felt something hard pressing against her.
“You can’t be!” Her eyes were twinkling.
James raised an eyebrow. “You told me not to let you down,” he said. “Now. Lie back and think of England.”
He slid back into her, hard as a rod, and fucked her for the next hour.