Quixotic

Quixotic Chapter Six (NC-17)

Disclaimers Apply

 

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta…Maybe Tim2 would feel
better if he had a hut in the backyard?
InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena make me make all sorts of uncool noises because they
host/archive. *g * ProPhile is a suggestive smutmuse. J Readers/Reviewers: *glomp * I’m glad you like it! Thank you for the reviews and reading and
making me giggle like a schoolgirl!

 

 

 

 

Kurt
frowned. Something was definitely not
right. Crotchet Castle bore a
disturbing resemblance to the evil wizard’s abode. It even, he noticed, smelled like it… “My darling,” he
hissed, pulling her behind a potted palm, “we tread on dangerous ground!”

Kitty bit
her tongue and counted to ten. “Kurt…er…Robin…Kurt,”
she said finally, decisively, “we’re perfectly safe in here!”

He shook
his head. “You would be safer with me
in Sherwood…” He looked way ways down
the hall and leaned closer, “I would feel better if you let me bring my staff,
if not my bow, within the walls of your home.”

Kitty
sighed. “No projectile weapons in the
house,” she said sternly. “Kurt, we’re
safe here. You know this. We live here.”

Misunderstanding,
he nodded. “Yes, Sherwood is our home and we are safe there within it’s woods,
but here…” He gestured to the walls and
ceiling. “Here, we are not so
safe. My love, come back with me. On the morrow, the men and I will make
inroads towards the wizard…”

It was too
much for Kitty. She knew she could
either give into her impatience and hurt him or give into his delusion and…who
knew? “Sheriff.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not a
wizard. It’s the Sheriff of Nottingham.”

She could
practically hear the wheels turning in Kurt’s brain as he assimilated this. His
eyes grew distant and glazed for almost a full minute before a smile cracked
his face. “Nothing but Prince John’s lackey!
He is easily disposed of!”

Kitty
closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder for a moment. “Kurt, I think it’s time you went to bed.” She could hear the “Merry Men” trickling
into the house via the backdoor and mud room and wanted to get Kurt upstairs
before he saw them and went off on another mental adventure.

“My
dearest,” he murmured, “you’re as yet a maiden…”

Kitty
blinked, flipping through her mental dictionary. “A vir…oh, yeah.
Right. I’m a maiden. Sure.”

He frowned
again. “ No, that’s not right, is it? I
remember…” His eyes widened and seemed to glow. “To bed. Yes, a most
excellent idea.”

Kitty felt
a flush of excitement, then guilt. Is
this cheating on Kurt if he’s not Kurt?
“Maybe it’s not such a…hey!”
She felt the world tilt on it’s axis as he lifted her off her feet and
headed towards the stairs.

Kurt pause,
one foot on the first riser, his grin growing even more predatory. “Shhh…I can’t fight off an armed man and
hold you at the same time!”

Kitty
thought that the only armed man they would have to worry about in this
situation would be Logan, but she wisely kept silent for fear of jinxing
them. Giddy with excitement and
trepidation, she mentally willed him to go faster, so they would not get
caught. He paused outside her door,
suddenly very still. “What is it?”

“I’ve been
here before, yes? That’s how I knew
where it was…”

“Right,”
she sighed. Probably a bad idea to phase him right now…might send him into a
gibbering heap… “We have to be quiet,” she said softly. “If we get caught…”

He nodded
vaguely, seemingly processing new information again as he jostled the door
open. She wondered at how he did not
seem to notice modern things such as door knobs and indoor heating while he
spun his hero fantasy. Her question was
answered as he kicked the door shut behind them and stared in open amazement at
her room, the light still burning from her hasty departure earlier. “Surely these things are miracles! Lights that burn without oil or wicks…a fine
carpet over the entire floor…and what is this?” He practically dropped her as he made a beeline for her
stereo. “Is this some…scrying device?”

“No…it’s a…er
lo
look, a bed!”

Kurt was,
it turned out, easily distracted. “Eager,
milady? I won’t let on to the men how
unmaidenly your virtues are.” His tone
was distinctly teasing as he pulled her towards the bed with a gentle tug on
her wrist. “You must be uncomfortable
in those mannish clothes,” he said with a nod to her jeans and sweater.

“Not
really,” she sighed. “I’m very warm.” She sat down on the edge of her mattress and
patted the space next to her.

“Warm, are
you? I think I can help with that…” He slid one hand behind her head while
resting the other on her hip, pulling her to him for a passionate kiss.

Well, he
still kisses the same. She closed
her eyes and let her body go. His teeth
scraped the very edge of her lower lip, making her gasp. With the parting of her lips, his tongue
dipped into her warmth, making her press against him as she sought more. Kurt’s grip tightened and Kitty felt her
breath draw short, her blood pounding in her ears. He had always been the dominant one in their lovemaking, while
not always initiating almost always taking control. She had never given it much thought until now, as he pushed her
back onto the bed without breaking the kiss.
His hand skimmed under her sweater and paused as he felt bare flesh
instead of whatever it was that he had been expecting. Kurt pulled away enough to breathe and fixed
her with a searing gaze as she stared back, panting slightly. “Does any of this seem familiar to you?” she
finally asked, almost afraid of the answer.

He smiled
slowly. “Very.” He claimed her mouth again, this time more
fierce than the last.

She barely had time to catch her
breath as his hands worked beneath her shirt, unfastening her bra. He knows how to do that still…he can’t be
all gone. Her own hands clasped
behind his neck, prolonging the kiss as he found her breasts, her sensitive
flesh responding instantly to his firm touch.
Kitty sighed as warmth spread outwards from every place on her body that
his touched. She happily forgot for a
few minutes that Kurt was not quite himself, that he had a delusion overlaying
reality and she even was able to forget her worries that he might not “come
back.” Instead, she helped him work her
sweater over her head and shivered in the slightly cool room in the seconds
before he captured on peak of her breast with his lips, his teeth and tongue tantalizing
her flesh before drawing on her until she wanted to scream with the pleasure of
it all. Somehow, and she did not
honestly care how, she lost her pants and underclothes. She highly suspected that they were under
the bed but did not give it too much thought as Kurt’s left hand took a
distinctly southern course. Her hips
arched involuntarily, her flesh swollen and wet for his touch. Her own breath was ragged in her ears as his
teeth nipped her throat, her shoulders, then her neck again, his fingers
drawing even more guttural responses from the core of her being. He was
demanding of her, brushing away every attempt she made at returning the
pleasure he was bestowing, finally resorting to pinning her wrists above her
head when she reached a third time for his tail. “Kurt,” she breathed, “please…”

“I never…refuse…a lady,” he panted,
grinning at his own bad joke as she made a moue of irritation. His eyes
squeezed shut as she surrounded him, a feeling so excruciatingly good that it
brought him near pain. His endearments
dissolved into German, his delusion apparently not caring that he was supposed
to be British.

Kitty only caught about half of the
meanings he murmured in her ear but she did not have to understand them all to
know she was feeling the same thing. She
tried to pull her arms free but he held her fast, his awkward position
apparently no detriment to his ministrations.
The more she half heartedly struggled, the more primal his
response. God help me, I like this… She arched her back and pulled against him
again, this time not wanting to be released. He bit her neck where it joined
her shoulder, drawing a tiny bead of blood to the surface. She moaned and writhed, seeking release even
as he became more enflamed. He thrust
one final time, hard and fast, into her depths and she gasped, her eyes flying
open as her body tensed then shuddered in release, the center of her need
flooding with warmth and moisture and shaking hot desire. It was only as her tremors subsided that she
realized that Kurt had reached his end as well. He released her wrists with a horrified expression and began
pulling away from her shakily. “No,”
she breathed. “Stay.”

“I behaved badly,” he
murmured. “That was…unforgiveable.”

“I love you, you twit. There’s nothing to forgive.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and
held him to her, refusing to let him move.
“Now just calm down and sleep for a while. You’ll feel better when you
wake up.” And hopefully know you’re
Kurt again…the real Kurt…

He sighed and moved just enough to
let her breathe. He was so tense that
he was certain his bones would snap under the strain from his muscles but he
finally began to relax as Kitty drifted off to a postcoital doze, obviously not
going to kick him out of her room.
Slowly, so slowly it was nearly painful, he extracted himself from her
grasp and retrieved his clothes from where they had been flung. His few arrows that he had been allowed to
keep when they entered the home were scattered across the floor. Fingering one thoughtfully, he had an idea…

Kitty woke up some time in the
middle of the night, chilled to the bone.
She was so cold that she could not feel her toes, fingers or any other
extremity that peeked from beneath her thick duvet. The hell… Her window was open and she was alone. Damn it… She wrapped the covering about herself and padded to the window
to close it against the night air, pausing when she saw the note pinned to her
wall with the crude arrow. “Kurt,” she
groaned. “No…”