Showered, fed and dry, Omega and Reikhard settled in for the evening. It’s Saturday night and they're in their apartment, which still needs some major redesigning in her opinion but there’s no restlessness waking in her, making her tense, sending her fingers tapping and making her frown herself into a headache; she’s with Reikhard and they could be in a freakin’ cardboard box and he’d make it feel safe.

With him watching her like she’s some kind of alien, she mixes up the perfect vodka milkshake, ignoring his protests, and giggling when he covers his eyes dramatically as she tips up the vodka bottle and glugs in some of the Gray Goose he said was wasted on anything but a martini.

“Reik, live a little,” she says coming close and wrapping one arm around his neck as she gives him a chocolate flavored kiss. “It’s green eggs and ham time.”

He crosses his arms and gives her an annoyed look – which he’s totally mastered – and shakes his head a tiny bit. “I think not. I bought myself enough of actual alcohol to last an atomic bomb. I’ll –”

She tries to snap out his name and fix him with a commanding glare but it fails miserably and he lifts one eyebrow – damn, does he spend hours practicing this stuff or what? – and looks smug. “Chicken,” she says finally, when she’s held the glass to his lips and he’s kept them so firmly closed you couldn’t pry them open with anything, not even a kiss (she tried that one first of all). She gives him a few clucks and a disappointed look and sighs heavily.

“I’m not,” he says, when she’s stepped back. “I simply have more respect for decent alcohol than you do.”

“Whatever,” she says airily, twirling away and taking a dainty sip. “Still think you’re denying yourself a potentially taste bud enhancing experience through stubbornness and – hey!”

“Was that supposed to be an imitation of me?” he says, his voice grating in her ear, his arms holding her tightly against him. He’d moved when her back was turned and her drink’s in danger of spilling because once he’s done whispering he bites down on her earlobe and the small fierce pain makes her jump and quiver in his arms.

“Maybe you’re rubbing off on me, sir,” she says huskily, grinding her ass gently against him and feeling him harden. She dips a finger in the shake and reaches up over her shoulder. “Try it, and I’ll wake you up with a blow-job for the next week if you like.”

“I don’t like the predictable,” he says, easing back so there’s space between his cock and her ass which takes all the fun away from it. She pops her dripping finger between her lips, making sure her head’s turned so he gets an eyeful, and moans the way she does when his tongue’s flickering against her clit, all appreciative and gaspy.

He rolls his eyes and she guesses he recognized it because he sounds vaguely insulted when he says, “It can’t be that good.”

“Well, you’ll never know, will you?”

She’s about to give up and let him have his boring whiskey on rocks, when he removes the glass from her hand deftly and steps back, holding up a warning hand as she follows him. Entranced, she watches him take a sniff and wrinkle up his nose the way her cat used to when his food had been left out for too long. She expects him to take the teeniest of tiny sips but instead he raises the glass to his lips and downs a good third of it with grim determination. He pauses for breath, stares down at the glass as if he can’t believe he’s holding it and shudders as if it was neat brandy or something.

She saunters over and smiles up at him. “Reikhard! You hero,” she purrs admiringly. “That took balls. Want to finish it off?”

He closes his eyes in mute agony and shakes his head and she chuckles and leans in close, wiping away his milk moustache with delicate dabs of her fingertips until he’s all cleaned up.

“Thank you,” he says, lemon-sour, “for teaching me that you have absolute zero good taste when it comes to alcohol ." He burps. “And making me feel rather unwell.”

“If you throw up, you’re not going to blame me are you?” she says.

He shakes his head. “I, ah, took your dare. Any consequences are my fault.” He eyes her. “You won’t get punished for that.”

“Oh.” She can’t help letting a bit of disappointment creep in. Not that she wants Reik hurling his cookies, or –

“Why Kitten,” he drawls. “Can it be that you did that expecting reprisals?” He strokes his finger down her cheek and pinches her chin as an encore. “Did you want me to punish you?” he asks softly with that disquieting gleam in his eyes that makes her toes curl and her breath quicken.

"Repirsals is a big word for you Reikhard." She replies without thinking, her tongue clucking against the roof of her mouth as she grins wickedly, then instantly realizes what she says and looks at him, cheeks flushed pink with slight shame and a little embarassment. There's a familar look that flashes in his pretty eyes, the one that he gets right before she's bent over whatever table is nearest, but it's gone as soon as it appears, and he's just staring at her, and she knows he's waiting for an answer.

“No-o,” she says hesitantly and fuck, she still doesn’t really know the answer to that one. Does she, or doesn’t she? Only thing she’s sure about is that she likes what follows, when she’s mewling and crying and seeing stars because he’s fucked her into heaven and back.

“No? You don’t sound too sure about that,” he comments. A brisk slap lands on her ass. “As it happens, I do plan to thrash you soundly tonight..” While she’s still gaping at the casual words that seem just a little bit fucking extreme, he nods towards a wooden chest over by the wall. “Go and *fetch* what I’ll need, please.”

“Master...”

He turns away. “I really don’t think I should be made to repeat myself, do you?” he asks the air.

She rolls her eyes and walks slowly to the chest, peeking at him to see if he’s smiling, and giving him a cold look when she sees he’s absorbed in cracking cubes into a crystal glass, slicing a lime so juicy sweet when he licks his fingers clean he smiles instead of wincing, and generally looking like a man with nothing on his mind but mixing a drink.

Muttering to herself about people who can’t take a joke, she kneels and lifts up the lid, wondering what the hell he’s planning to use on her defenceless ass. It’s full of boxes, dusty and battered through use and she sighs and lifts them out until the chest is empty, without finding anything but more jigsaws than Toys R Us have.

“Uh, Reikhard, I can’t find – whatever it was you wanted,” she calls.

He cat foots up behind her and pushes one of the boxes with a bare foot. “That one. Unless you really want to tackle the Matterhorn at sunset. Looks a bit tricky to me; too much snow.”

“Scrabble?” She picks up the jigsaws and games invented when a computer was a man who counted stuff, and packs them away. “You want to play Scrabble?” She’s trying to guess what he’s got in mind ‘cause he can’t just want to rack up a high score and gloat. Way too simple...

Then again with his ego..

“Do you know how to play?” he asks. “The rules are very easy.”

She drops the box on the table and sits down opposite him. “I’ve played it before,” she says unenthusiastically.

Yeah, she’s played it. Played it until that memorable afternoon when Raivyn – who considering, really should’ve been able to spell ‘whore’- shoved the ‘X’ so far up Harlequins nose when she challenged her that it had to get removed with forceps and somehow it never got put back in the box after that...

“Kitten, You might sound a little less like a woman who sees defeat staring her in the face,” he says jovially, practically rubbing his hands together as he sets up the board. There’s a dictionary tucked inside the box and he pats it. “We’ll be a little limited when it comes to challenges, as this is hardly the O.E.D, but I promise you I won’t play any word that’s not allowed.”

Well, isn’t he so fucking generous? She bares her teeth at him in a snarl and gives the dark green cloth bag a vicious shake. “If it’s not in that, Reik,” she says firmly, pointing to the dictionary, “it doesn’t get on that." She taps her finger against the checkered board and meets Reikhards’s narrowed eyes without flinching. “Oh, look,” she says, delving into the bag. “I got an ‘A’. Looks like I’ll be going first.”

As Reikhard pulls a lousy ‘T’, turns out she’s right.

It’s all going along fairly well for a bit. Reikhard chortles like he’s won the lottery when he gets to play ‘jack’ with the ‘J’ on a triple letter and she’s stuck with a rack of one pointers that means she’s trailing by thirty odd points. Part of the problem is that she can’t concentrate because she’s waiting for the fucking twist.

“So what’s it gonna be, Reikhard?” she says casually, running her foot up his leg and giving him an innocent look. “A spank for every point I’m behind when we’re done?”

“I beg your pardon?” he says, barely lifting his head as he frowns at the rack of letters and rearranges them solemnly. “What did you –oh! Don’t be ridiculous; it could be as many as a hundred.” He gives her an indulgent twinkle and a nasty smirk before returning to contemplate the ivory squares that are so fucking fascinating he can’t spare her a kiss. “My hand would get dreadfully sore... ah, now how about that?”

He places his letters in one of those clever, make three words by shoving letters in the middle and tying up the whole fucking corner of the board, ways and adds up his score in a mumble he makes sure is loud enough to be annoying and inescapable. “Twenty-three, oops, forgot the ‘D’’s on a double letter... twenty-five. Not bad.”

He beams, pulls out some replacement letters, and she watches his smile dim a bit. It’s the faintest trace of blood in the water and she takes a long, reflective sip of her shake and gets in the game for the first time.

“Want to make this interesting, Sir?” she coos. “Little bet, prize for the winner, that sort of thing?”

He’s not so rapt in contemplation of the board that he lets that one slide by. “And just what did you have in mind, Omega?”

She’s got just the thing. “If I win,” she says slowly, watching his face, “I get an ‘I get to cum’ card.”

Reikhard looks up at her like he noticed she was there for the first time since the game-board had been set down, then he leans back and taps his fingers against each other, waiting in silence for her to carry on. She rolls her eyes at his posture. “Work it out, Reik; all those times I’m begging to cum and you’ve tied a knot in it or something and figure you can wait all night...”

“Omega!” he says, spluttering with outrage. “That’s hardly a –”

“Well, just once, I’ll get to tell you to stop making me wait and you’ll have to listen,” she says, getting dreamy-eyed just thinking about it. “Have to make me cum in, oh, I guess you’ve got a minute. Maybe two. I’ll be so ready to cum by the time I use it, shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Out of the question,” Reikhard says flatly. Big freakin' surprise.

She smiles and sets the trap. “So you think you’re going to lose, then?”

She can practically see the wheels turning as he works it out and she knows she’s won. Different game, but look at that, Reikhard is checkmated, by his own damn ego and his desperate need to protect it.

“Fine.” Sucker. “And if I win –” He pauses to think about it and she keeps a calm smile pinned to her face, “You’ll have to go without watching television for the next three months...and that includes your DVD collection...oh and playing video games”

What? Wait...what? Is he serious? She raises her eyes to meet his, all wide eyed and surprised. How..How could she live without knowing what's going on with Dexter, or...or reliving moments with Angel and Buffy? That alone is just not even right but the video games? She just got the new pokemon game and she hasn't even gotten to the fifth gym leader yet! She has to evolve her pikachu still! HE'S SO CLOSE...and there are times when clinging to that DS is the only thing that keeps her sane on nights when he's placed her in the bed-side cage for the night. It's not even fucking fair, it's just down right evil. He’s got to be kidding her!

“Or we can just make this a friendly game,” he says condescendingly, patting her hand.

“Too late, Reik,” she says, snatching her hand away so fast she's surprised it didn't leave burn marks. “Stakes accepted.” The jumble of letters in front of her suddenly provide inspiration and she reaches out a trembling hand and adds ‘acomb’ to ‘cat’ – he’d barely been able to hold back a smile when she posted that earlier – and snags a triple word score and a handy 57 points.

Game on, Reikhard. Game fucking on.

When she pulls out a ‘U’, ‘Q’ and ‘Z’ a few minutes later she nearly cums right there.

It takes her twenty minutes to win and she’s really fucking gracious in victory –

"It’s only sixty-three points, Reikhard; that’s, like, so close. Practically a tie..." and he’s a total gentleman about it, giving her a tight, congratulatory smile and tidying the board away while she mixes herself a victory drink... but she’s waiting for him to do something to even the score and expecting it to be pretty fiendish.

Instead he walks over to her and hands her a sheet of paper. On it he’s written her an I.O.U for an instant orgasm. She touches her fingers to it and looks up at him and even though, yeah, he’d been a smug bastard, she loves him too much not to soothe his ruffled feathers and she says softly, "Reikhard, did you let me win? ‘Cause, swear to God, that was just so freaky...”

He frowns. “I wouldn’t do that. Ever.” The frown deepens. “Omega, though it's an incredibly shocking thing to say; you won fair and square and I’m very proud of you.” He gives her a swift kiss. “There. Now, what would you like to do for the rest of the evening?”

She folds the note and tucks it into his shirt pocket. “Don’t know. But you’ve got two minutes to make me cum, Reik.”

****

He hesitates for just a second and she's about to call him on it. In fact, she's totally about to call him on it when he gently seizes her wrists and strokes his thumbs over her pulse points, which immediately start thundering away like the hounds of hell are after her.

"Are you sure about that?" he asks carefully. And it's the same question he kept asking her when they started playing Scrabble and she was putting down her 'cats' and 'pins' in all the wrong places so he could blaze his way to a triple word score on the next go.

"Am I sure that I want to cum in the next two minutes?" she splutters incredulously but she can't help the note of uncertainty that's creeping into her voice, and she shakes free of his stroking thumbs so she can wind her arms round his neck and smoosh her breasts against his chest. "Sounds like all kinds of fun to me, Reikhard."

He nods his head in deference to the fact that she owns his ass for the next 120 seconds and kisses the sensitive patch of skin behind her ear, which makes her shiver like she's cold. "Fine" he murmurs, sliding his hands down to cup her ass. "I just thought that you'd prefer *not* to fritter away such a rare opportunity.."

She's still not sure how or why he's trying to call her bluff and for a moment she's distracted by his fingers smoothing down the skirt of her dress, then rucking it up on the journey back home. "I'll let you have an extra minute on the clock if you think you need it," she offers with a smug, little smirk, squirming against the start of a really promising erection as the tips of his fingers tickle the backs of her thighs.

He's planting a tiny line of butterfly sweet kisses across her jaw line. "It's your choice, Omega, but I would have thought you'd have preferred to play your card when you really need it."

"Like when?"

"Oh, like after I've spanked your ass until it's a nice shade of deep pink," he drawls, all honey and treacle and other sticky things, his nails lightly scratching her smooth skin. "Then fucked you with my fingers and my tongue and my cock for an hour or so and still not let you cum but if you're adamant that you want your orgasm in the next three minutes, I'm sure I can come up with something."

There isn't a fucking reason on earth that she should still be in his arms, especially as she's pouting and huffing and yanking the paper back out of his pocket, "You're such a bastard sometimes Reikhard!"

He gives her a completely evil grin and actually has the nerve to pinch her ass. "I'm well aware of that, Omega, but it seems to get you awfully hot and bothered so I forbear."

He kisses her lips even if they are still closed in her annoyence and clinked his glass against hers before making his way to the bedroom...

She huffs once more, standing her ground before sighing and walking after him into the bedroom.

"M-Master?" She calls out.

He really was such a bastard.