Seven by Seven

Title: Seven by Seven

Rating: M (For sexual content, violence, adult language, and manipulation)

Beta: At the Writer's Block and Jericho Pryce

Disclaimer: I own nothing. The owners own. This is for fun, not profit. I've made no money.

Summary: Seven virtues, seven sins, fourteen one-shots. They offer small glimpses into the lives of a very troubled girl and her charismatic master. (Slade/Terra, Slerra)

Author's Notes: First Terra chapter! I wrote it in first person, because it felt more "in the moment" and I like challenging myself with a more limited vocabulary, but not all her pieces will be like that.

Special thanks to the United Nations Military Symbols Handbook and the song "Untouched", by the Veronicas, which played on a loop for this to get written.

Lust - Desire for Pleasure.

I had never thought much about boy-crazy girls on TV or the ones screaming for some band on an airport tarmac, but I always suspected it was because I just...wasn't overly girly in the first place. The idea of rushing into a room and squealing about a guy I'd seen with a bunch of giggling, screaming idiots seemed absolutely alien. I would never go crazy over some random boy. I would never let him tell me what to do. And I would never, ever throw myself at him, wanting physical contact all the time.

I have decided that growing up is mainly about breaking promises to yourself.

He wasn't even doing anything, just sitting there at his big computer display and flipping through business forms. There were lots of different currency symbols I recognized, like the yen and the pound, so I guess they were finances. Every once in awhile he would type something in or click a button, but I wasn't really looking at the screen. Just him. The way he shifted in his seat, causing his muscles to momentarily strain against the long-sleeve shirt he was wearing. How his legs were crossed, but his foot didn't jiggle like anyone else's. He moved his right hand to his chin and began lightly stroking his goatee, which was when the funny feelings surging in my stomach made me hop up out of my seat on the rug and meander as casually as I could to his chair.

"Terra, you are not finished with your project," he said without even looking away from the screen. "You may go once that is complete."

I reluctantly glanced back at the pile of books and the large graph paper I had only halfway filled up. It was supposed to be a battle plan, using all the stuff we had gone over that week. I moved to his side. "My eyes hurt," I lied, making sure not to whine for effect. He hated whining. "I just wanna take a break."

Since he didn't answer immediately, I leaned on the arm of the large wingback he used instead of a rolling office chair like any normal person would have. I love being close to him. I made sure I was on his left side, to be polite, but it meant that I got caught staring at him like a dope when his eye moved from the screen to me. "A break is acceptable," he stated, before going back to his work. And his hand started stroking his goatee again. Oh God, how I wanted to touch him. Something was certainly wrong with me. I never started touching him, he would start touching me.

But I still sat myself down on the arm, my left leg tucked under my butt; the pressure I was getting on the seam of my jean shorts from my ankle bone made me want to feel his skin on mine. I settled, after a long moment, on merely moving my hand to his head and brushing my fingers through his short, white hair. It had just been cut close the other week and had an interesting texture to it now. He didn't pause in his typing of a message to someone with a bunch of weird symbols, but he did tilt his head back, towards me. So I kept doing it.

After a couple minutes, I moved my left arm up too, draping it across his collar bone and resting my head on his shoulder. He smelled so good. I buried my my nose into his neck, but he didn't stop typing until the fingers of my left hand slipped underneath the collar of his shirt. "Terra," he rumbled lightly, while I opened up my mouth to taste his neck, like he did with me in bed. "Is this your way of trying to get out of your studies?"

I ran the palm of my hand through his hair again, harder, moving my lips to his ear. He shoved the keyboard back into the console. As much as I wish I could say I knew exactly what I was doing, the reality was that I didn't have one damn clue. It was just mimicry. "I dunno," I mumbled into his ear, giving a lick. I had liked that, right? "I just wanted to touch you, like you touch me."

It took a few heartbeats for him to do anything else and it felt like forever. Never had I wanted him to touch me so bad. His hands were just resting there on the console. I wanted them on me. It was all I could think about and I felt like I was burning up from the inside. Finally, he pulled me onto his lap, so that my legs were on either side of him, and began to speak.

"Terra," he started, and I moved my face from his neck to listen. "I didn't tell you to stop, honey," he stated smoothly, placing his hand on the back of my head to guide my mouth back to his neck. He continued speaking once I'd resumed, his voice huskier. "Terra, you are going to finish your project tonight." His hands moved to the legs of my shorts, fingertips sliding up to touch bare, hidden skin. "I am going to complete my business dealings." I ground my hips against the front of his slacks and he made a muffled sound into my hair before continuing. "And neither of us is going to leave this room until these things are complete."

Please don't make me move, please please please. "Yes, sir," I said into his chin, enjoying the soft tickle of his facial hair. I didn't want him to make me stop, I wanted his bed and his sheets and that mouth. Suddenly, he kissed me, tasting like the tea that sat abandoned a few inches away. His fingers migrated to the fly of my shorts and I started to ask against his lips, "I thought-"

"You thought wrong," he interjected, pressing a button on the console with the hand not tugging my zipper down, my legs moving automatically to wiggle out of the denim. I heard the door to the room lock with a click, right before I heard my jean shorts land on the floor, the metal button hitting the steel with a deafening 'ping'. "I said we wouldn't leave the room before the work was done, not that I wouldn't take care of you." His mouth was on my throat then, his hands gripping my waist right at the top of my underwear. I could feel him firm beneath me. "Isn't that what you wanted, little girl?" he asked, his voice rough and low. "For me to make you come?"

"Yes," I let out as a jagged breath, my fingers brushing the back of his head, barely having enough sense to avoiding the strap for his eyepatch. "Yes, Slade. Please..."

One of his hands left my waist, moving between us to his belt. How could he do so many things at once? "Give me your word that you'll get right back to work."

"Promise, promise," I said in a rush, diving in for another kiss. Only a month and some change since I'd had my first one and now I couldn't live without them. Can't live without him. Like food or air or chocolate.

"That's a good girl." His voice is golden against my mouth, even punctuated by heavy breathing. "So obedient."

Bold line of bumps for present, hollow line for planned...oops. It was the third time I had made that mistake with my forward line of troops. I reached for my eraser again. The boundaries and fire points were done at least. I added a booby trap near the edge of a warehouse, mostly because it was fun to draw, like a spotlight shining. "Slade," I called out from my belly down position on the rug. "Can I put a road on here too? I want it for this thing in the second part."

"You may," his voice drifted from the other side of the room. "Don't lose your mind with extra pieces, though."

"Kay." I went back to erasing the unneeded coloring job, trying not to bear down too hard and tear the paper. If I was going to put in a road, my attack arrows would need to be adjusted. But I would be done in just an hour or so. I snuck a glance back at Slade, who had given me just enough time to dress again and settle among my books before buzzing Wintergreen on the intercom for a new cup of tea.

It had been a good night.