Angel
by Katherine
NC-17! Too Hot for some!!!
He came to her in her dreams every night after he died. Jurgen. The first night, she felt the pressure of someone sitting down on the bed beside her. She looked up to find him--whole and beautiful, dressed as he had been the night they had almost spent together. He was smiling down at her. The momentary fear she had felt dissipated quickly.
In Nikita's dreams, they talked--about Section, about their lives--about what might have been. He left every morning just before she woke, touching her gently before going. The first night, it was the soft pressure of his hand on her leg, the next night on her hand. After that, he left her with a kiss to her temple, then her eyelid, then her cheek, moving slowly toward her lips. On the next few nights, he kissed her, and then these parting kisses deepened, grew more intense. She would wake with the feeling of him being there and would have to close her eyes to gather herself before rising. The dreams consumed Nikita's thoughts each day. She knew they were probably just her subconscious's way of coping with Jurgen's death, but they were intense and vivid; she could always *feel* his presence with her. Consciously, she wasn't sure whether the dreams were helping her or not. Instinctively, though, she felt they were, even if they left her slightly saddened when she awoke. Her pain and confusion over Jurgen's loss were lessening slightly.
A week and a half after he died, he came to her for what would be the last time. She had known he would. She smiled up at him. He looked a bit saddened. "I'll have to go soon." "I know," she said softly. He reached out a hand to stroke her face. "I'll miss you." Nikita sighed. "I *do* miss you, Jurgen." "I wish our lives could have been different." He paused. "I'm not certain whether we would have worked together, forever . . ., but I wish we'd had a chance to find out."
"So do I," Nikita smiled. She opened her mouth again but then sighed before speaking. "Jurgen, I'm sorry for everything." Her voice got softer. "I'm sorry I betrayed you." His hand stroked back into her hair and then trailed to her shoulder. "No, Nikita, you didn't. . . . Neither of us did anything wrong with each other. . . . We were both betrayed--by Section, by supposed friends," he shook his head, "but not by each other."
Nikita shook her head. "I should have seen it coming." "No." He held her shoulder gently but firmly and stared deeply at her. "If you spend your life trying to get into their heads, they'll suck you in. Promise me you'll live as free from their games as you can." "Jurgen, I . . .," she began. He shook his head. "Nikita, if you play their games, you'll lose. You're too honest--too decent to fight them on their terms." She looked confused. "How do I survive, then?" "Live apart from them," he instructed. "Follow their orders as far as you can and then leave them be."
Nikita thought about it and then looked away. "I'm not sure I can," she responded quietly. It was obvious who she was thinking of. Jurgen rubbed her shoulder. "Nikita." She looked back at him. "I told you once that Michael loves you." He shook his head. "Nothing's changed . . but his definition of `love' isn't one we understand." Nikita looked saddened. "I wish I could tell you the future--assure you that one day he'll share your knowledge of the term, but I can't see that far ahead. . . . There are too many variables."
Nikita reached up to stroke Jurgen's cheek. "I didn't want you to spend your last time here talking about Michael." He reached up and took her hand, stroking it softly. "I need to." He looked away, sighing, needing to explain. "One of the reasons I knew I could leave you was because of him." He refocused on her and shook his head slightly before she spoke. "I don't mean that I left you to him, like a legacy. It's more that your connection with him is still strong. . . . He doesn't deserve you right now, though. Someday, however--and it's a day which may never come-- he might start to prove himself to you." He smiled at her, still stroking her hand. "He'll never be worthy of you, though." Nikita shook her head. "Then, why did you go?" "I couldn't stay, not in the compromised life Section had planned for me. . . . I would have taken my own life after the mission, anyway; then, you'd have been left without even the illusion of compassion." Nikita looked away.
"I'm sorry, Nikita." He kissed her hand. "I wish I could have given you more than we had--more than you can share with Michael. . . . I wish I hadn't failed you." He started to leave. Nikita looked back at him quickly and reached for him, grabbing his arm, keeping him seated on the bed. "No, please, not yet." "I need to go." He wasn't looking at her. "Jurgen, you didn't fail; neither of us did. . . . We were trapped in the wrong time and place--the wrong lives." She was stroking her hand down his arm, her head near his shoulder.
He looked back at her. "You can forgive me for failing you?" "If you can forgive me," she replied. He shook his head. "There's nothing to forgive." She looked deeply at him. "Exactly." Jurgen reached out to stroke her hair. "I love you, Nikita. . . . I think I see that more clearly now." She smiled at him. "I love you, Jurgen." When he looked like he was about to disagree, she continued. "I don't know whether I'm *in love* with you; that's what had me confused when I was with you." He smiled slightly, understanding the difference.
"Stay with me tonight," Nikita asked. "I need to be near you once." "You're sure you want me to?" he pressed. "You weren't positive, before." "I was confused, then." She kissed his cheek. "I had the wrong motives." She kissed up to his temple and then looked at him. "I understand better now." "And your motives?" he asked softly. "I want to say goodbye," she whispered. He still looked uncertain. "We didn't have the closeness I wanted before," she continued. "We do now. Please." She kissed his lips lightly. "Leave me with the tenderness we missed out on before."
He kissed her, his hand on her face. "You're certain?" "Yes." Her eyes were clear, focused--full of gentle desire. He smiled and leaned in to kiss her again; she responded to it, and it gradually deepened. There was still a delicateness to it, though. Jurgen's hand ran into her hair, and he pulled her closer, the kiss growing more passionate. Nikita stroked her hand up his neck, holding him in the kiss.
After a minute or so, they broke apart and looked at each other, then smiled. Jurgen turned to face her, both hands stroking her face now. He leaned in to kiss her again, as her hands traced down to run under his open shirt, slowly pushing it off his shoulders and dropping it on the floor. She sat up on her knees to be closer to him. Their arms ran around each other, as the kiss continued. Nikita's hands traced the lines of Jurgen's back, following the curves of the muscles. He sighed and pulled back slightly to begin kissing down her chin, tracing down the lines of her throat. When he reached her collarbone, he ran a very light line over it with his tongue. Nikita shuddered and held him closer. Jurgen began to move back up her neck, nipping slightly at the skin, as he did so. He then sucked in bits of flesh along her jawline to her ear, before suckling at the lobe and kissing behind it. Nikita sighed, head back, one hand in his hair.
Jurgen ran his lips back to hers, and they kissed more passionately. Nikita changed positions, sitting back and bringing her legs out from under her. She took one of Jurgen's hands and ran it under the hem of her long, grey silk nightgown, running it up her leg. Jurgen continued upward until he lifted the nightgown off over her head. Broken apart by the garment, he looked down at her, tracing a hand lightly down her center. He refocused on her eyes. "You are so beautiful." Nikita smiled and took his hand again, encouraging him to crawl onto the bed. He straddled her, as she lay back. He leaned in to kiss her, hands on her face. He placed a final, light kiss on her lips and then trailed his lips and tongue down the side of her neck. He continued to trace the sensitive parts of her neck, nipping slightly at them, as his hands ran down her sides to delicately tease the curves of her breasts. Nikita's hands were in his hair, as she sighed, "Yes." His mouth ran up to kiss the underside of her throat before trailing back down. His fingers started to draw whisper-like circles around her breasts, never quite touching the hardened nipples. Nikita groaned.
Jurgen's tongue ran down Nikita's breastbone, before he kissed between her breasts, down to her abdomen, and back up. He pulled away to look at her, smiled, and then leaned down to gently kiss one of her nipples before tracing it very delicately with his tongue. Nikita whimpered. He finally took the delicate bud in his mouth and suckled her, his hand teasing her other breast, his index finger lightly stroking the nipple. Nikita groaned loudly and held his head closer to her. "Yes." Jurgen suckled her more firmly, his tongue circling the pink bud.
Nikita's head was back, and her groans were practically shouts. Jurgen's tenderness and passion were arousing her wildly. When he switched to the other nipple, she felt tears start to come to her eyes. Jurgen continued this reverse for several minutes. Nikita's mind was a blank of pleasure. Finally, he left her aroused breasts to kiss down her stomach, removing her underwear, as he worked his way down, tossing them off the bed. He massaged his hands up her legs, then ran his thumbs lightly up her already-parted thighs. He leaned down to tease the delicate skin between them with the tip of his tongue; Nikita was practically sobbing. He then took it in his lips and suckled at it. Nikita was forgetting how to breathe. Jurgen stroked one, then several fingers into her, gently developing a rhythm that had her rocking and breathing in unison to it.
He moved his lips up her body, letting his thumb stroke the now-neglected bud. His lips found her nipple again, and he began to suckle her firmly, his hand stroking more insistently. Nikita was gasping. His teeth ran lightly over the delicate area. Nikita cried out, her whole body shocked into life by the force of her emotions. Her hands gripped the sheets. Her head was back, her eyes closed; she was unable to do anything but feel, as she let out a long, incoherent groan. Finally, as she began to come down, her body shuddered, and she managed to whisper, "Jurgen."
Jurgen ran his mouth back up to hers and kissed her. She entwined her arms around him and held him tightly to her. His hands ran behind her, one tangling into her hair, holding her in the kiss. She was still quivering slightly.
After quite a while, Jurgen pulled back and looked at her. She had tear tracks running down her cheeks, and she stared at him unsteadily. It was as though her body, numbed since his death, had just come back to life, and she was barely withstanding the force of it. Jurgen understood and stroked her cheek. Nikita looked at him tenderly and pulled him into another deep, soft kiss. Then, she rolled over until she was on top of him. She pulled back and looked at him, then kissed him once more. Nikita ran her hands into his hair and kissed down his cheek to behind his ear. She ran the tip of her tongue down the side of his neck before kissing along his collarbone. Her hands ran along his chest, as she kissed up his throat to the underside, running her tongue from there down to the hollow. Jurgen sighed. She kissed it and then ran delicate bites up the side of his neck to his earlobe, sucking on it. Her thumbs found his nipples and traced circles around them. His arms went around her. She ran her tongue back down the trail she had created on the side of his neck, kissing along his collarbone, when she reached the bottom.
Nikita kissed the hollow of his throat again before running her tongue up his throat to his lips, giving him a nipping kiss and then tracing back down to his breastbone, stopping to gently bite the other side of his neck. She replaced her thumb on his nipple with her mouth, suckling him firmly, his nipples not quite as sensitive as some men she had known. He groaned. She ran her teeth lightly over it before pressing the tip of her tongue to it and then suckling again. His hands kneaded her back. After a while, she switched to the other nipple, as her hand ran down to stroke him through his pants. She had felt his arousal growing from the beginning; it now begged to be exposed to her. Nikita ran her mouth down his chest and stomach, as she loosened and removed his pants and briefs, tossing them off the bed. She worked her way back up, stroking his thighs. Jurgen's eyes were closed, his head back. She touched the tip of her tongue to the base of his penis and then traced to the tip-- along the back. Jurgen gasped. She began running light circles around the tip with her tongue and then started stroking him with her hand. He moaned. When she took him in her mouth to suckle the tip firmly, stroking him harder with her hand, he started groaning. She ran her mouth further down him, then back up, still stroking him, establishing a rhythm. He could no longer breathe properly.
Jurgen only let her continue this for a little while before pulling her back up to him. He stroked his hand down her cheek and kissed her, eyes a little desperate. She groaned. Jurgen sat them both upright. Nikita saw his plan and raised herself to her knees, placing herself just above him, poised to let him enter her. She put her hands on either side of his face; he wrapped his arms around her. Their eyes locked. Then, they both moved, as she lowered herself onto him. The process was almost agonizingly slow, but every additional inch was wonderful, and neither one wanted to rush this. Finally, though, he was in her.
She closed her eyes and breathed, "God," her hands running to grasp the back of his head. Even without movement, he felt *so* good. Jurgen let her decide when to begin the pace. He leaned forward and began kissing and nipping his way up and down her neck. Nikita groaned, pushing down on him. Her hands held him to her. Their rhythm began slowly but was already incredible. He kissed down the side of her neck, her arms cradling his head. "Ohhh," she breathed. Jurgen thrust in her slightly harder, and she leaned her head back and groaned. "Yes," she whimpered. He ran his lips back up to kiss her. She kissed him desperately, moaning through it, and ran her legs around his waist. After a minute, she pulled back from the kiss. "More," she moaned. He responded, and she cried out her approval. Nikita unhooked her legs from behind him and pulled him down on top of her; he followed, kissing her again. His hands stroked her thighs. Nikita caught at his tongue and then pulled back.
"Harder," she moaned. Jurgen's hands ran up to hold her hips, as he fulfilled her request. "God, yes!" Nikita screamed. "Oh, yes . . . more." Jurgen stroked her in an insistent rhythm that had her screaming, her arms around him, hands grasping his back. Her mind had no room left for conscious thought; she was overtaken by the most incredible sensation. "Yes . . . please," she breathed. Jurgen varied his rhythm, taking long, deep, sharp strokes, which had Nikita giving groaning screams. Her head was back, her eyes closed. "God . . . Jurgen . . . yes." Jurgen's hands ran up to cup her face, and he kissed her ferociously. Nikita whimpered through it, crying, clinging to him. A second later, though, she leaned back from the kiss, as Jurgen thrust strongly within her. "Yes," she cried, managing to make the word multisyllabic. When he put his arms around her, holding her lower back, and did it again, she screamed, sobbing, her hands clutching at his back. She had forgotten how to breathe, but she didn't give a damn. Nothing mattered to her but this moment. Jurgen watched her, as she came down. "Jurgen." His name escaped her in a whimpering breath, and he groaned.
"Nikita," he whispered, as she was still shuddering. She opened her eyes to look at him and saw an incredible love and need. He was still within her, begging for release. He rolled her over on top of him and began thrusting again. Nikita leaned back, grabbing his thighs, and groaned. God, he felt good. She let him take the lead for another few seconds, then sat back up, put her hands on his waist, and began to ride him. He groaned. "Yes." Nikita sat up straighter, riding him harder. He looked up at her and then sat up swiftly, his hands holding her and leaning her back, as his mouth possessed one of her nipples, suckling it, as they rode. She groaned loudly, half screaming, and held him to her. After a few more minutes, he ran his lips back to hers and kissed her desperately. She groaned through it, beginning to cry again. They clung to each other, as their strokes got deeper.
A second later, they pulled back and looked at each other. Still locked in one another's gaze, they loosened their grip on each other with one arm, bringing them to their sides, palms toward themselves, interlocking their hands a second later, their grip unremitting. One hand held, the other on one another's backs, they watched each other, as the tension inside them became unbearable. They leaned together into a demanding kiss, holding each other in it. Their strokes got longer. Nikita leaned back to moan. Jurgen watched her, open-mouthed, still stroking her in a perfect rhythm, becoming more insistent. Nikita's moan rose through her until it erupted as a scream. Her hand was white-knuckled, as it clenched his. He took two more deep strokes, and her scream went up an octave, then down just as quickly, turning into a rumbling groan. She leaned forward and bit the side of his neck, as her contractions surrounded him, ripping away any last vestiges of his control. "Jurgen," she whispered, and he gave a groaning scream, clinging to her. "Nikita," he rumbled in the back of his throat, losing himself in her with one final thrust, causing her to whimper, her head on his shoulder. It took quite a while for them to come down. When they had, they just held one another before looking into each other's eyes. "Jurgen," Nikita whispered.
"I love you, Nikita." Nikita awoke the next morning with tears on her face, the sunlight beginning to make its way across her bed. She closed her eyes tightly for a second and then got up and went into her living room, moving to her cds, picking the one she wanted, and getting it to the proper song. She walked over to her window, as she listened. Don't be afraid; close your eyes. Lay it all down; don't you cry. Can't you see I'm going where I can see the sunrise? I've been talking to my angel, and he said that it's alright. Nikita held onto the curtain, rubbing her face against the softness of the gauze. She tried not to cry; he hadn't wanted her to. Whether her dreams were a subconscious message or something else, they were an end to a friendship--a culmination.
Damn it. Why didn't things ever get easier? Nikita sighed and closed her eyes, the sun beginning to reflect onto her off a nearby window. "Goodbye, Jurgen," she whispered. "I'll miss you." For a second, a passing breeze almost felt like a light kiss on her cheek. She could almost hear his voice, too--saying goodbye, sending his love. Nikita unconsciously rubbed her finger over her cheek. Then, she opened her eyes and finished watching the sun come up.
[The End]