elrhiarhodan

Title: Never Gonna Give You Up
Author:

elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Written For: MMOM 2013
Prompt: Cold
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Elizabeth Burke, Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey (Peter/Elizabeth/Neal)
Spoilers: S3.11 - Checkmate, S3.12 – Upper West Side Story
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Mild D/s themes
Word Count: ~800
Summary: Elizabeth and Peter welcome Neal back to their bed after the debacle with the treasure and with Keller, but Neal has to accept his punishment. A rather naughty episode tag for Upper West Side Story.

A/N: Title from The Eurhythmic’s “Cool Blue.”

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"You chilly?"

Elizabeth gave a puzzled look to her assistant, Yvonne. "No – are you?" It was mid-July and while the fans and the air conditioning were going, it wasn't particularly cool in the office.

Yvonne smiled and shook her head. "Nope, I'm fine." She went back to work, invoicing last month's clients.

El, however, wasn't quite so diligent. She pretended to look at her computer screen, but in truth, she was lost in a memory. Last night…

Neal had returned to their bed for the first time since Keller had kidnapped her, since Peter had accused him of stealing the treasure. He had been so deliciously repentant, so eager to please, to do whatever it took to make things right between the three of them.

In truth, it really didn’t take all that much. She was surprisingly okay - maybe because she had rescued herself instead of passively waiting like the heroine from some bad romance novel. When Neal had shown up just before dinner with flowers, wine and a ball gag, she felt such a surge of lust it was all she could do not to drag him up to the bedroom and tattoo his ass.

She squirmed in her chair, her cunt slicking up at the memory.

Peter made Neal wait. Made him kneel on the floor by the dining room table, head bowed, hands cuffed behind his back, while they had their dinner. Made him wait while they took their time cleaning up. Made him wait while they went outside on the patio and discussed the events of the day, including Neal’s impromptu performance as a substitute teacher and Peter’s frustrations with his apparent ability to escape the consequences of his actions.

They argued a bit about that, and finally Peter sighed and looked back into the house, where Neal was still kneeling, head bowed, the very picture of obedience.

They both knew better.

Neal was quiet as they led him upstairs, to their bedroom. He hadn’t been here for months. For a while, after the thing with the U-boat and the treasure, they had occasionally fucked at the apartment, but that had stopped when Peter became convinced that Neal was getting ready to run. He couldn’t keep risking his heart, and it was impossible to have sex with Neal and maintain an emotional distance.

So, in a way, last night was like the first time they made love to Neal. Except that it wasn’t. The first time had been all about love and laughter and the promise of a future, not about discipline and punishment and needing absolution for everything that had gone so terribly wrong.

“Strip.” She gave Neal that one-word command. He obeyed. “Kneel on the bed.” He obeyed again.

Peter had dropped the ball gag in front of Neal’s face. “You don’t get to use this. You don’t get to hide behind your toys tonight.” Neal looked shocked. Maybe he never realized that they knew how much of himself he’d hidden from them with the gags and the masks and the hoods. They’d played along, but were never fooled.

There was something terrible in Neal’s eyes. Pain, hope, longing, need. And Elizabeth had responded deeply to it. She’d bent over and whispered in Neal’s ear, “I’m going to make you cry tonight.”

Neal had the good sense to look frightened, but it also aroused him too. He was expecting his punishment to be painful, and Elizabeth could so easily have given him his heart’s desire. Instead, she orchestrated one of the tenderest seductions imaginable. She had Peter worship him, love him with his mouth and his hands, arousing Neal to the point of orgasm, then pulling back, starting over and over again.

She did make him cry. She made him sob and beg and promise never to hurt them again. His desperation soothed an ache in her that she didn’t even realize was there. When she’d finally given Peter permission to let Neal come, he had his face buried between her thighs, his panting breath its own torment against her flesh.

“Elizabeth? Elizabeth?” Yvonne’s voice brought her back to the present. “You’re all flushed now, are you sure you’re okay?”

El wiped her forehead, she was perspiring. “Yeah – it’s warm in here. I’m going to go splash some cold water on my face.”

Yvonne gave her an odd look as she got up to go to the ladies’ room.

The cool water felt good against her skin. As she dried her face and fixed her makeup, El couldn’t help but notice what must have set off Yvonne’s odd looks. Her nipples were hard, prominent nubs poking against the smooth jersey knit of her tank top.

She ran her fingers across her breast, enjoying the caress. Elizabeth flipped the lock on the door. The paperwork could wait.

FIN