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sillyrabbit81 · 3 years

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The Instructor - Part 3

Summary: Agent Walker starts your training.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: approx 3.2k

Warnings: smut, oral sex (m receiving), rough, fluff?

Masterlist

Part 2 Part 4

Part 3

The plane trip to DC was largely uneventful, for which you were grateful. You didn’t exactly have a fear of flying, you were only scared of crashing. You handled your fear well, except during turbulence.

The flight was smooth, barring one pocket of turbulence. You gasped as the plane dropped in the air and your heart leapt in your chest and you gripped the armrests. Agent Walker was in deep concentration, reading from his laptop. Without taking his eyes off the screen he, uncurled your death grip with warm, gentle fingers, and placed your hand on his thigh before covering it with his. The plane dropped again and your nails dug into his hard muscles. You felt him tense under your touch, sucking in a breath between his teeth, and gave your hand a light squeeze.

You released your pressure on his leg after a few moments of calm air, and removed it altogether after a few minutes. Walker gave a small, dissatisfied grunt when you pulled your hand away. You put your hand back, slipping it under his and were rewarded with a content hum. You left your hand there until you landed.

Now, after disembarking the plane, not a word passes between you and Walker as you follow him out of the airport and into a waiting car. He doesn’t introduce you to the driver, so you follow his lead and stay quiet. You pull up to a standard apartment building in the city, surrounded by other nondescript apartments. You both get out and enter the building as the driver leaves. You shadow Walker into the elevator where he pressed the 9thfloor. The elevator pings as it arrives at the desired level and again you wordlessly follow Walker to an apartment door where he produces a key and lets you in.

He drops his bag on the dining table and you do the same. You stand awkwardly, waiting for him to speak. Is this the room where surveillance would be set up? Is this his room? Your room? Would you be sharing the space?

A door opens and a woman in her late thirties came out. Attractive, well dressed in stylish navy pants and jacket with a knitted sweater, she had the air of confidence you have come to associate with field agents. She looks you up and down, getting your measure, probing for weakness in the same way Walker had on that first day of training. Learning from your mistake, when she meets your eyes you hold her dominant gaze.

She must have approved because she smirks and asks Walker, “Is this Agent New Girl?”

Walker raises an eyebrow and tells her your name.

She scrunches her nose up and says, “I like New Girl better.” She sticks her hand out and says, “I’m Thomas.”

You force a smile and say, “Nice to meet you, Agent Thomas.”

She laughed as we shake hands and says, “Come on, New Girl. We have months of boring listening and watching to do, just call me Thomas.”

Walker picks up his bag, and looking at you he says, “I’m in 907.” He looks at his watch. He continues, completely deadpan, “You’re on duty from six am. Be at my room by four am for a thorough briefing before you start. I suggest you sleep, it’ll be a rough start if you don’t.”

Your façade crumbles at his words and you bite your lip to supress the moan coming from your throat. The first words directed at you in hours were orders laced in seduction, a suggestive reminder of the power he had over you, both professionally and personally. The subtle undertones of his speech, the words he wanted to say were: “Sleep, my pet. You will need it.”

Alone with Thomas, you school your features as you face her. She has a knowing smirk, and although you’re embarrassed, she is light hearted. “Don’t worry New Girl, he has that effect on everyone.”

You allow a giggle to pass your lips, you had to laugh, to ease the tension in your body. Then you stop, curious. With burning cheeks, you play up the New Girl persona and ask, “Should I be worried?” You emphasise your innocence, but hide your desire by asking, “Will he, you know, take advantage?”

Thomas burst with laughter. You look at your feet, hoping the modesty ruse works. “Nah, he’s not like that. He’s hot as fuck, but cold as ice.”

No, you wanted to tell her, he’s not cold. He’s warm, but has locked that part of himself down. You remember the burning kiss he gave you as you left your apartment, there was nothing cold in that. But you also remember the way he pulled away from your touch when your fingers sunk into his hair. No, he wasn’t cold, he was shut down.

“Well, that’s a relief,” you say to Thomas. “Where do I sleep?”

Your alarm wakes you at 3.30 am. You had slept but it was fitful. You woke several times, once so aroused you thought you may have gotten your period you were so wet with anticipation.

You shower, dress, before going to his room, and hope Walker will offer you a coffee at some stage. You knock on his door, and pray your knees don’t give out.

He answers the door in pyjama pants. You see his chest for the first time, and you can’t help staring. You knew he was impressively built, but somehow his finely tailored suits hid his true size. His chest was covered in dark curly hair, and you wanted to sink your fingers into his fur. Would it be soft or coarse? Would it tickle your nose as you kissed him there? Would he allow you kiss him?

His face doesn’t give anything away as he greets you simply with a nod and says, “Agent.” Standing aside from the door, he lets you in with a gruff, “You’re early.”

You mumble an apology, and hear the door close behind you as you enter his apartment. You stand with your head down, waiting. You feel Walker’s breath on your neck and register the heat from his body as he moves behind you. You don’t know how long you stand there, but you don’t move, you wait, wait for him to say something, do something, anything.

“Did you read all of the report I sent you?” He says into your ear. He is closer than you thought he was, his unshaven lip tickles the shell of your ear as he speaks.

“Yes,” you reply, breathless as Walkers body presses into yours. You feel his hand wrap possessively around your throat, lifting your head. His other hand comes over your shoulder, sliding down your chest and into the top of your shirt.

“That’s my good girl,” Walker praises you. “We will have more time for your training,” he says as he slips his huge hand into your bra, cupping your breasts, feeling their weight, digging his fingers into your soft flesh.

You’re confused by his words, you don’t need any more training, not for this case anyway. It was a simple surveillance with express orders not to engage. One of the simplest field assignments you could get. You’re about to ask why you would need training when you feel his lips brush your neck and hear him sniff at your skin and hair.

“I like the perfume you use,” he smells you again and you feel him press himself into your back. “Keep using it, I will add it to the rules.��

At first the words wash over you as you melt under his kisses and hands. His soft warm mouth plays with your neck while his rough hand grips your throat and kneads your breasts.

“Wait,” you try to say, your thoughts are dreamlike under his touch, you’re not sure if you understand him. “Training? Rules?” you mumble.

Walker grunts, “You’re mine, aren’t you, pet? My girl needs rules to know how to behave.” Walker’s hand on your throat tightens and he bites into your flesh, “You want to please me, don’t you?”

Your body shudders, your heart’s rhythm becomes a faltering mess. Fear and excitement grow in your gut. You nod frantically, your voice is unreliable, you don’t trust yourself not to beg for him. If just the implication of his dominance makes you feel this way, you can’t imagine what it would actually be like under his control, under his rules, under his instruction.

Walker lets you go and makes his way to his dining table where his coffee and breakfast is laid out. He sits, his legs spread wide on his chair, the flimsy material of his pants, leave nothing to the imagination as you see the outline of his nearly fully erect cock. He studies you a moment, and says, “Take your clothes off, leave your underwear, stockings and heels.”

Taken aback you bite your lip a moment, and Walker tutted at your hesitation. Not wanting to annoy him further you take off your jacket, button up shirt and skirt. “Good girl,” Walker’s smooth baritone crooned with a gentle roll of the r. Your body warms and heat fills your wet core, both from the praise and the way his eyes ravish you. Then he taps one of his knees. “Sit,” he orders. Not wanting to be admonished for hesitating you go to him and perch yourself on his thigh, your legs resting between his. He wraps an arm around your waist, bouncing you slightly on his knee while he pulls you close. His chest is warm against your naked arm and his curly hair is soft as it rubs against your skin. You want to snuggle into him, but you resist and sit up straight.

“Did you eat before you came to see me?” Walker asks. You shake your head. Once again, he is disappointed. “No more skipping meals pet, you need your strength.”

“Sorry, Walker,” you say. You hated disappointing him, it upset you in a way you couldn’t describe, like it wasn’t just that he wasn’t happy, it was that you wanted to make him happy and any time you didn’t made you feel inadequate.

“When we are alone, I am August or Sir,” he tells you. With a grin he says, “Daddy, if you’re being playful.”

“Yes, Sir,” you reply, your brows furrow in confusion. August and Sir you understood, but Daddy? Usually, Daddy was for a softer Dom, and you hadn’t expected that from him. You knew he had a warmth in him, but you didn’t realise he knew he had it too.

“Don’t let me fool you, pet. I won’t accept bratty behaviour, I enjoy giving punishment. But, do what I want and I can be generous.” He leans over his breakfast and cuts a piece of egg and bacon off and brings the fork to your lips. “Open,” he says.

August alternates between the two of you, feeding you a mouthful then himself. He shares his drink with you too, although you usually like cream in yours, you drink his black unsweetened coffee when he lifts the glass to your lips.

You’re surprised at how turned on you are by sharing this moment with him. It’s almost a glimpse into a life with him, a life where you lived together, had normal lives, maybe even married. You wanted none of those things before, but sitting on August’s knee, having him feed you, you wanted it.

When you were both finished, August glances at his watch. His lips draw into a tight line and you worry you had done something else to disappoint him. Then he looks and you, his eyes on your breasts then moving down your body, mapping you with his eyes. His hand moves between your knees, pushing them apart until he can see your covered slit. You close your eyes, embarrassed, knowing what he would see. He doesn’t comment on the wet patch on your underwear, but you hear a small groan which makes your already throbbing core ache.

“Open your eyes, pet.” August orders. You open them and his bright blue orbs burn into you and you notice for the first time, the brown spot covering the top of his eye. It was as if he came with a warning label, there is a dark spot within him, but his darkness was as beautiful to you as the rest of him.

You lick your lips, your urge to kiss him is strong, you want to show him you want him. The flick of your tongue calls August’s attention away from your eyes and he studies your lips. Your lips part, you lick them again in a silent plea to him, the anticipation too much.

With a nearly indiscernible throat clear August says, “Get up.” His voice is deep and throaty and leaves no room for argument. He guides you to his bedroom and pushes you to your knees in front of him. “If you’re going to offer me your tongue, pet. I will take it.”

August reaches into his pants and pulls out his rapidly hardening cock. He tugs it a few times, you watched rapt as his huge hands twist over his head and down over his broad shaft. You moan as you watch him grow harder, the sight of him holding himself while looking at you is too much. You want to feel him in your mouth, make him feel good, pull from him the reward of his groans and his seed. He looks down at you with blazing azure eyes, and a menacing curl on his lip. His free hand grips your hair, guiding you to him. Without being asked you open your mouth.

There is no gentleness in August now. He presses you deep onto his cock, forcing himself into you until you gag and your stomach heaves. He pulls your head away as tears well in your eyes. “Beautiful,” he whispers.

Forcing you on him again, he fucks your mouth. Thrusting himself into you while pulling your head onto him, you fall into a daze. You keep your jaw open, trying to keep your teeth away from him, your lips fold over your teeth. The bruising action of his pumping cock cause your teeth to press painfully on your fleshy lips and you can feel them swelling. You can’t see August anymore, your sight is too blurry from your tears, but you can hear him. You can hear the grunts as he punishes your mouth, the breathy ‘fuck’ he moans as he uses you and you know you would let him do almost anything to hear him react like that.

His rhythm starts to falter and you prepare yourself for his orgasm, excited to know how he tastes. But he doesn’t, he pulls your hair back so your face pointed up to his, his lips are pulled back, his teeth bared, he sucks in breath which whistles through his teeth. You know he is close.

“Keep your mouth open,” he growls through his clenched teeth. He pumps himself now, and you want to watch but he forces you to look at his face. You watch his eye brows raise and his mouth open as his orgasm hits and the deep guttural cry of his release is followed swiftly by the thick ropes of his seed painting your waiting tongue. His pulse is uncontrolled as he decorates your lips, cheeks and chin.

A long rolling shudder moves over his body and he lets out a content moan. It was one of the single most erotic things you had ever seen. He puffs out a breath and smirks at you. You can’t help but smile back, he appears so relaxed now, almost happy. You’ve never seen him happy.

He tilts his head as he uses his fingers to gather this cum onto his fingers and feeds it you. You eagerly lick his fingers clean with a moan, you feel so proud that you have made him happy. When he has finished feeding you for the second time that morning, he tucks himself in his pants and checks the time. He pulls the covers back and gets into bed, patting the spot next to him, indicating you should join him with a flick of his head.

Sliding your shoes off, you slip in beside him, he lays your head on him stroking your hair a while. You press your ear to his chest and listen to his slowing heart rate, its low reverberation almost lulling you back to sleep. He doesn’t say anything for a long time and when he does speak you are surprised by his question. “Why did you join the CIA? The real reason, not the one in your file.”

Your heart skips a beat. Does he know? Is it his way of telling me? You think for a while, not sure of how to answer. “My aunt was an Agent. She went missing ten years ago. I didn’t want to follow in her footsteps. I wanted to know what happened to her.”

Your reply was an act of trust, the answer could get you thrown out of the Agency. You weren’t supposed to want to know things that were above your security clearance. Wanting to know something was dangerous. If the CIA thought you should know, they will tell you, otherwise, ask no questions.

August just hums and doesn’t ask anything else. For a few more minutes you lay on his chest, until he says, “Time to clean up, Pet and get to work.”

You moan and push your face into his chest, wrapping your arms and legs around him. “I don’t want to, August.”

“If you’re going to whine when it’s time to go, then perhaps we won’t be able to do this again tonight.” His threat gets you out of bed. You are sure August doesn’t make a threat he isn’t prepared to go through with. “Good choice, Pet. I admit, this morning was a little selfish, but tonight we will have longer.” He promises. You go to his bathroom, wash your face and when you return you find your clothes laid on your bed with a black velvet box sitting on top.

Curious, you dress first then sitting on the now made bed you open it to find a discreet day collar. It was gold and was a simple rigid, thin ring shape that required a special hex key to open and close.

“Will you wear it?” August’s voice came from the doorway. Stunned you look from the collar to him and back to the collar. You don’t know what to say. It was pretty and wouldn’t warrant comment, but you still worried about it. Glancing at August again, you couldn’t say no. Wearing his collar, having a sign of his ownership was something you hadn’t dreamed he would want. But you realised how wrong you were, when August owned you, he wanted all of you and wanted you to know it.

“Yes,” you say and take him the box. He opens it and places it around your neck, and you hear the mechanism click in place.

August’s eyes dance as he kisses your swollen and bruised lips. “Now you really are mine, Pet.”

Part 4

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