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CHAPTER ONE
A Gordan Merkel + OC fanfiction.
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“You're insufferable!”
Merkel was in a foul mood. An unusual thing about him. He always kept his cool, he might be less cocky or humorous if he was worried or pissed off, but to see him upset was a rare occurrence. His team and associates knew him well and his ability to keep the calm even on the toughest moments was something all of them relied upon.
That was until Silke waltzed into the team. She appeared out of thin air, preceded only by her reputation. She had crashed once in one of the illegal parties Merkel and Perceval put together for the East Berlin youths, as a means of trading information and secrets for prohibited goods like American cigarettes and bottles of JD, recruiting new members, and other activities who didn't please the Communist Government and their dogs: The Stasi. GDR’s KGB-like Secret Police.
That night the party was big, illegal music, illegal alcohol, illegal conversations taking place in an abandoned industrial warehouse in the outskirts.
Perceval was having a field day, receiving info and intel and rewarding the little birds with bottles of bourbon, jeans and Marlboros. Merkel was at the bar. A vantage point where he could control ins and outs. He was serving beers to a couple when he spotted the kid. A young girl, not older than 15, dressed in black. A dress too tight and short for someone her age, ripped tights with tough boots, and the hair bunched in two messy buns. She was tiny, drunk and eager. Probably having an adrenaline high for being in such a dangerous place on top of any drugs she could have already consumed. He left one of his associates at the bar and barged his way to the child.
He reached her in a few strides, easy when he was 6.4. One of his large hands grabbed her by the arm (God! She's damn skinny!) and turned her around to face him.
“I'm sorry sweetheart, you're too young to be here, I'll take you outside”. He said, softly but firmly.
He was met by two eyes that sparkled like a storm, surrounded by thick, black, smudged eye make-up, glaring angrily at him
“Let go of me, NOW!”
“I will, when you're outside”
He dragged her out and stayed at the door until she disappeared in the night. Then he went back to the bar. Not even half an hour later, he spotted her on top of a podium, dancing like a possessed to ‘Anarchy in the UK’ and looking directly at him. He didn't know what pissed him off more: her blatant defiance or the fact that a good portion of the crowd was cheering her up and kind of worshipping her.
He went out again and tried to reach the podium. The bloody girl was persistent. Sometimes young prostitutes of both sexes crashed these parties. But they were almost always kept at bay. Underage sex was heavily punished. More than contraband or illegal music. When he got there she had vanished. He looked around without much success. After a few minutes he gave up and went to see Perceval at his merch stall.
There she was. Talking to him like if they were old friends. He loomed over her, from the back. She looked all the way up to meet him looking furiously at her. Silke felt a shiver run down her spine. Before he could say anything, Perceval chipped in jovially
“Gordan!!, you should meet my little friend, she could be of use….. “
“Are you insane? Why are you talking to a child that could land us all in one hell of a problem?“
“What the heck are you talking about, which child? “
“This one over here” Merkel growled. “I doubt she even reached fifteen”. His hand gripped her shoulder like a vice.
“I'm twenty!”. The girl answered back, trying to free herself but it was a lost battle. Merkel's hand seemed welded to her shoulder while he chided Perceval.
“She will land us all in a problem if she gets caught here inside. Your man at the door isn't very…”. He stopped talking and blinked at her. “What did you say?”
“I'm twenty years old. Do you want to see my papers? “
Merkel released her immediately while Perceval laughed his ass off. The girl rubbed her shoulder and glared at Merkel, who glared at her in return. Before he could say anything, she walked away, climbed on a podium and two minutes later she had another crowd almost worshipping her as she danced. Merkel looked at the tiny girl dumbfounded. She had something about her….
“Gordan!, wake up!”. Perceval shook him out of his stupor. “You look like if you had seen a ghost “
“An angel, I've just seen a little angel “
“You're right there my friend. You just met ‘The Angel’ “.
Perceval’s words took a second to register. Merkel turned to him
“What do you mean?”
“The tiny girl.. She's The Angel “
The Angel was an almost mythical presence in the East Berlin underground. A rogue character. Specialist in staging bold acts of civil disobedience and gestures of disrespect towards the Communist regime. She intended to inspire people and erode the Government’s morale, which had made her a top priority in Berlin’s most wanted list. Young people admired her fearless attitude. She mostly acted solo and staged her happenings with the utmost secrecy. But recently she had been contacted by Perceval to join forces when he and Merkel smuggled people across the wall.
“Are you fucking kidding me? “
“Nope. But you look thunderstruck”.
Merkel looked again in her direction. She still looked like a child, a brattish one, that he would like to put over his knee to give her a good spanking. He went back to his bar and kept glancing at her from time to time. Every one of these times she was looking at him.
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That had been a year ago. It had been the beginning of a fruitful collaboration. And also the beginning of Merkel's headache. From the first day they were at each other's throats. They bickered, she defied him, he scolded her. Sparks flew when they were in the same room. But when it was about a mission or an extraction, she was as dedicated as him. Merkel couldn't understand how she would take certain risks with her personal safety that were absolutely insane. He chided her constantly for being reckless. Not true, she was as professional as him when lives were at stake. But when she was on one of her stunts she was fearless. She would retort that there was method in her madness. Then she would jab him, calling him ‘uptight’ and ‘antisocial’.
They were like night and day. She was a firecracker that never seemed to stop. He was cerebral and somehow introverted. Nobody knew what he did in his private time. He had not known relations, family, a partner, nothing.
Her last stunt got the Stasi’s knickers in a twist. She literally had spray painted bright pink dicks and balls in @ 100 Stasi green and white cars. A seemingly harmless prank but they couldn't go out in these vehicles unless they wanted to cover themselves in ridicule. The crazy manoeuvre took the cars from the streets during one night. Just the necessary time for Merkel's unit to smuggle a group of 20 people out of East Berlin.
Merkel was fuming. She hadn't told him what her prank would be, nor that she would be doing it all by herself. She could have been caught and arrested or even killed. Hence he was giving her a proper dress down in front of all the group. The rest thought the stunt was genius; she had put one hundred Stasi cars out of circulation for a while. She was leaning against the wall, listening to Merkel pour all his anger on her. Her air of nonchalance was winding him up.
“You're insufferable!” He seethed.
“Yes, but this insufferable girl bought you the necessary time for you to extract twenty people. Not mentioning that the Stasi will be disrupted for a while”. she said as matter of factly as if she was commenting on the weather.
Merkel huffed with exasperation. Wasn't she aware of the huge risks she took every time? He towered over her. It seemed that his height had an effect on her, if that was the case he used it to try to coax some common sense in her stubborn head.
“Why aren't you afraid of them? Don't you know the things they could do to you if you were caught?”
For some reason that seemed to hit Silke as a punch. She narrowed her eyes and squared up to him.
“I know too well, you don't need to lecture me on that. My hatred from them is bigger than any fear”
When Silke was 7 years old, the Stasi had come to the flat she lived in with her parents and her older, only brother. Her mother had hid her in a wardrobe, but both her parents and her brother were dragged into the street and executed publicly. The three of them led a Resistance cell within Berlin. The other members but one had already been arrested and executed. The one that got away had sold them all. Silke had survived in the streets since then. She became a skilled thief and a Resistance fighter on her own. She was very intelligent and resourceful, and became a pain in the ass for the GDR and the Stasi. But they didn't know who she was. She had left false tracks that made them think that The Angel was male and 10 years older than her. Nobody would look for a 15 year old girl, because Silke almost always made a point of appearing younger than she really was.
What got in Merkel's nerves was her total disregard for her own safety. She was selfless but she also seemed not to care if she lived or died. He thought she was brilliant, intelligent and with a special talent to pull off her crazy stunts. But he was worried about her. He had started feeling very protective of that tiny, skinny girl with fire in her eyes.
Silke could see that his concern was genuine. It was endearing, but she had lived two thirds of her life without thinking about the future. She just concentrated in avenging what had been done to her family. Now she found herself thinking of him more than she was comfortable with.
She wouldn't admit it to herself but she craved his approval. When working with her new associates, she had accepted Merkel as the leader. Perceval was tangential. He collaborated with the group and also sought their help, but he was British Intelligence and had his own work to do. But her own fight, that was her business.
“Listen, Merkel. I do appreciate your concern. But I've been doing this for a long time. I don't take unnecessary risks”. Her tone was calmed. There was a time to be brattish and a time to try to keep the peace. “I've spent most of my life being cautious and guarding my own back”
Merkel's expression softened a bit. But deep inside himself he felt the worry gnawing at him. “I know, Kätzchen. But it takes very little for things to go wrong and anyone can make a mistake. I just don't want anything happening to you”
His tone had also softened. She was a valued member of the team, She had truly earned it. But for Merkel she meant much more. He was just not ready to fully admit it yet.
Perceval came in, from the subway entrance. He seemed on edge. It was his usual way when he had news or plans to share. Merkel saw him and knew that something was going on.
“Hey, what's happening? You look agitated”
Perceval wasn't one to beat around the bush. He looked at Merkel while he lit a cigarette and then spoke, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
“We're ready to go undercover at the nightclub. Two people at the front: you at the bar”. He told Merkel. “And Sike on the stage as bait. And two more in the cellar: Dieter and Ludwig to copy the key. Our Stasi officer has been given a free invitation to visit the club. He's got a weakness for pretty dancers”
The Stasi had a secret communication code used on radio and phone. The MI6 had gotten their hands on it long ago, thanks to a double agent, and had, since then, monitored almost all the transmissions, but they were discreet about it. That had allowed Merkel's organization to smuggle people to the other side of the wall with a high percentage of success. Now, because of some indiscretion from a dumb agent, all that was crumbling like a house of cards. The Stasi were getting a new, different code. That essential part of their activities was in danger of being obliterated. Perceval had been moving all his contacts and now he had a plan.
Silke would dazzle the officer and steal the key and the keypad numbers for the doors to the coding room. A copy of the key would be made and then it would be returned back to the officer without him noticing. After that they would go to the Stasi Headquarters to make a copy of the code.
Merkel wasn't entirely comfortable with the plan. The part about Silke used as bait and being the object of the Stasi officer’s lust gnawed at him. But they really needed to get hold of the new code, so he swallowed his discomfort and let it simmer in his gut like a poison.
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That evening, before they got inside the club, Merkel took Silke’s arm and turned her to face him. His eyes were like a storm: dark and ominous.
“Listen kätzchen. I'm not entirely happy about this. It guts me that you have to be the bait. But keep this in your head at all times”. He poked her forehead softly, almost affectionately. “I'll be watching over you. I won't let you walk into any danger. Do you understand?“
Silke looked at him, her big eyes full of uncertainty. “I'm not comfortable with it either. But knowing that you have my back makes me feel much better”. She was whispering, partly for the sensation of dread, but to be so close to him and knowing that he cared about her, made her at ease. It was a strangely intimate moment. He was almost pressed against her, she could feel his warmth and smell cigarettes and cologne. For a split second she wished to get lost in his arms, enveloped in a hug, safe, happy. Merkel brushed a strand of her from her face and she trembled when she felt his fingers. She wished they were somewhere else, just the two of them.
“Ok, let's go. Let's get this done over with”. Merkel said. It took one hell of an effort to step back. He just wanted to keep her to himself forever.
All was set up and ready at the Schwarze Katze Club. Silke was getting changed backstage with the rest of the club dancers, Merkel was behind the bar, keeping an eye on all the go-ons at the club. When the Stasi officer arrived, the club was busy but not full. On a night like this it wouldn't be crowded. Two girls performed their numbers, then Silke came out on stage.
She went with a risky act: Madonna, a new American singer who was causing a revolution of her own. Girls weren't pure and good anymore, they wanted to be Madonna : bad girls, dirty, sexy and provocative. Her music was banned in East Berlin, a bad example for women. But in a club frequented mostly by men, the morals bent. Even more if those men were Government and Stasi members.
She started dancing “Into the Groove”. She mimicked her well, her clothes and mannerisms, but Silke had to play it up one or two notches harder. She totally looked like a sixteen year old lolita. She had the attention of the whole club. She looked at the Stasi officer and froze. It was just an instant. Her eyes darkened; it was so brief that no one noticed. No one except Merkel. The officer was transfixed.
He wasn't the only one. Merkel gulped hard when she appeared on stage. And even knowing that this was part of a mission, he felt jealous. He didn't want any of those pigs looking at her, drooling over her, getting a hard on because of her. He clenched his jaw and he slammed a great deal of bottles and glasses on the counter while he served drinks.
Silke had a very quick change of outfit and now appeared in white basque and undies, lacy, see through white skirts and a pearl rosary in her hand. “Like a Virgin” sounded double dirty in her lips, she gave it an even riskier edge. The pigs in the room went feral. The stasi officer devoured her with lascivious eyes. That young girl, almost a child, with her blonde locks and the heavy makeup, so provocative. And she seemed to prefer him.
But there weren't just the pigs, the ones going crazy for Silke’s innocent sensuality, or was it provocative modesty?. Merkel was having a hard time trying to keep it under control.
For the last months he had been feeling a pull towards her. She was in his dreams, in his thoughts, and when she was present he acted all dominant, preaching to her and telling her off, when what he really wanted to do was pressing her against a wall, kissing her senseless and making her his. Merkel was a person who only would feel sexually attracted to someone if he was also having feelings for that person. He cared for that tiny girl more than he was prepared to admit. His feelings kept growing and all he did was bickering with her and keep them for himself as he thought they would not be returned.
Now in the club he was trying to concentrate on the task at hand, while being consumed by desire and by an insane jealousy at seeing all those men drooling over his little Silke.
She finished her number, and before she was out of the stage, the club manager approached and told her that the Stasi officer requested her company. He had fallen for it, hook line and sinker. Instead of going back to the changing room, Silke descended from the stage and went to the officer’s table. She looked at the bar and saw Merkel’s eyes locked on her, like a bird of prey. He nodded slightly, like saying: ‘I got you baby girl’. She nodded back and then turned her attention to the officer. He got up and kissed her hand complimenting her on her performance. She sat facing Merkel and she endured the advances of the officer for a while. He whispered something in her ear, she stared at him and then smiled. Merkel was watching her, he knew her expressions. That sugary smile was so horribly fake that he almost chuckled.
Then she got up and went to the bar. She asked Merkel for a bottle of sweet plum wine and a bottle of pàlinka, a very strong fruit brandy, originally from Hungary. This one was 75% alcohol. He raised an eyebrow but he understood her intention. The wine was for her whereas the pàlinka was for the officer. She was going to get him drunk.
“He's taking me to one of the private dining rooms” She whispered to Merkel
“Be careful, I'll be around there. If you're in danger, scream, I will hear you. Are you ok? I saw your expression when you were on the stage”
“Yes, I just recognized that asshole, But I'm fine” She muttered
“Dont worry, I'm going to be nearby” his eyes scrutinised her. She seemed off somehow.
Silke nodded and joined the officer. They walked behind a curtain and Merkel followed them, alleging he was taking his break. He saw them entering one of the private rooms, just opposite the storage room. He went in there and stayed alert.
Inside the room, Silke served drinks. He was already drunk on beers and schnapps, the pàlinka would finish him. She gave him conversation, drinking little wine against the continuous shots he was downing. She talked, and laughed and kept making him drink. Finally he collapsed on the table, completely knocked out.
Silke pushed him a bit. She was checking if he had really passed out. When she was sure he had, she searched his pockets. She found a pocket notebook and the key. It was even labelled as ‘Kommunikationsraum’. The notebook had the room key code.
She opened the door of the private room slowly. The corridor was empty, but Merkel was keeping an eye. He approached her, she gave him the key and the notebook and went back inside.
It took Dieter five minutes to copy the key and then Merkel returned both things to Silke.
“Come out as soon as you put everything back in place”
“Give me a moment”
She put both things back in the officer’s pockets. As she was getting up from the chair he woke up a bit, still very happily drunk. Silke made him drink more pálinka. He almost finished the bottle in three swigs, then he collapsed again. This time he was dead. She poured the remaining liquor over him and on the table and laid the bottle horizontal by his hand.
She ran to the back door where she had left a bag with her clothes, changed quickly and joined the others, who were waiting for her in a car in the alley.
They drove to the Stasi Headquarters. And there Dieter and Ludwig, dressed as guards and went into the building. Merkel and Silke waited in the car. Talking and keeping watch. .
“He drank the whole bottle of pàlinka” Silke said absentmindedly while looking through the car window
“What do you mean ‘the whole bottle‘?. That stuff is lethal! He could die!”
She turned to face Merkel. She looked haunted, tears were rolling down her face.
“He was dead when I left. They will know he died of alcohol poisoning” She looked into Merkel's eyes, sobbing.
“Silke, why?” Merkel asked while he wiped her tears with his thumbs.
“He was the monster who executed my family… I saw everything from the window…. I recognized him at the club. I had to do it…. I've never killed anyone before”. She explained between sobs and hiccups.
"Oh, meine kätzchen! “ Merkel pulled the , sobbing girl towards him and held her. He knew her story and many times his heart had ached thinking of her as a child, fending by herself, alone and scared. The pain, the fear, the isolation, he could only imagine.
“Hush, hush little one. You're not alone anymore”
Dieter and Ludwig appeared from around the corner. Merkel straightened up and Silke wiped her face. The other two got in the car and they quickly left the area.
“Did you get it, Dieter? Merkel asked while he passed them the cigarettes.
“Hell yes! And nobody will suspect a thing. While you two made up in the car, we got two copies of the code. “
Merkel looked at them through the rear view mirror. “We weren't making up. The officer at the club is dead, he drank too much pàlinka, Silke is a bit upset, she saw him die”
There was no need for anyone else to know more than necessary. They returned to Merkel's headquarters where Perceval was waiting for them. He kept a copy of the code and Merkel kept the other. Merkel told Perceval about the dead officer. Perceval promised to keep an eye on that, and then he. Dieter and Ludwig went home.
Merkel and Silke were left alone. She had stopped sobbing but she was a bit spaced out. He took her chin between two fingers and lifted it slowly to make her look at him while he caressed her face with the knuckles of his other hand.
“Are you ok little girl?”
Silke shook her head, then closed her eyes. Her breath was irregular, she was scared.
“I don't want to be alone… I'm half sick of being alone”
“And you won't be. I'm taking you to my apartment. I'm not leaving you out of my sight with you in such a state. Let's go”
They left the building carefully and they got back in the car. The journey to Merkel's place was silent. Silke was lost in her thoughts. Torn between the enormity of what she had done and a sense of closure for the unjust deaths of her family.
Merkel kept stealing glances at her while he drove. He also was half sick of being alone, of always putting everything else first and forgetting about himself. Silke had gone through most of her life being alone. Without anybody there to guide her, to help her, to be there for her. Yes she had done relatively well, but she missed someone to bring order to her chaos, to pick her up when she fell, to end the loneliness that engulfed her life. He wanted to be that person.
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They arrived at Merkel's house. They went upstairs to his apartment. He opened the door and let her in. He had just locked the door when she asked if she could have a shower.
“His hands were all over me, I feel sullied, I need to clean up, please! “ She was trembling. So was her voice.
Merkel took her by the hand and led her to the bathroom. The water was warm. He took all her clothes off very slowly and she entered the shower cubicle. Silke didn't say a word, just looked at him with huge, supplicant eyes.
He washed her with a sponge and liquid soap, carefully, like if she was a delicate, glass figurine. She let him do. Basking on the feeling of being cared for. His large hands with long and elegant fingers ran over her skin, washing away the pain, the shame, the longing.
“I want you, Silke. I want to take care of you”. He murmured, with his hands around her neck, his thumbs lifting her chin up. His green eyes were reading all the secrets in her soul. “Whatever you ask for, that's what I'll be. What do you want, my little girl?
Silke was on the verge of tears. “I want someone to tell me what to do. To bring discipline and a sense of belonging to my life. I'm exhausted from having to be constantly taking care of myself because there's no one else to do it. I had no childhood, I don't have a family”.
There it was, in a nutshell, the essence of her being. Under the warrior that succeeded at being a swarm of wasps for the cruel government of East Germany there was just a lost girl, yearning to belong, to be loved.
Her hands were on his wrists, in her eyes, a silent plea. Merkel felt his heart swell and clench at the same time. He always craved to have someone needing him, someone he could protect. He also had lost his family at 18. His parents and two little sisters whom he had felt incredibly protective of. This had left him with an almost pathological need to care for those who were in a position of weakness, to do something to save them. He understood the void she felt, and wanted nothing more than to be her guide, her protector. He had felt her need and only her could fill up his.
“Would you want me to be your family meine kätzchen?. To take care of you? When we are at home you wouldn't need to worry, I'd take care of everything. I would make you happy and content, I would make love to you, make you mine, help you thrive”
Silke shivered, not for being cold: the water falling over her was warm and comforting, but because she wanted exactly what he was offering her.
Then he extended his hand to help her out of the shower, grabbing a towel, he dried her whole body. She was blushing but she let herself be cared for. It felt so sweet and intimate, like when she was a kid and her mum would wash her. Once he had finished, Merkel hoisted her like she weighed nothing. Silke wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around him. They got lost in each other's eyes. Their heads came closer till their noses were rubbing softly, Silke bit her bottom lip, Merkel licked his’. And without any more warning, his mouth descended over hers like a falcon over its prey. It was a messy, sloppy kiss at first but then it turned hungry, needy, ravenous. He devoured her like a starved man. The choked moans and whimpers from her mouth fuelled his hunger. He wanted to consume her whole, to adore her, and pour so much love on her that all her wounds would heal.
Without stopping, he carried Silke to the bedroom. He lowered her by the bed. She looked so tiny and fragile. Her skin was like alabaster, almost translucent. She stood there in all her naked beauty, stripped of her badass persona. She was small, a bit thin, but so sensual, Merkel’s eyes darkened when they stopped on her small breasts. His gaze went back to her face: blushed cheeks, eyes like the sky when it's stormy, usually so full of defiance and bravado, and now showing all the vulnerability she hid from others, lips red and swollen from the kissing, and trembling with unspoken emotions.
Silke started unbuttoning his wet shirt, and she took it off. He made her sit on the bed and then kicked his boots and undid his belt without taking his eyes off her. He undid the zipper, letting his trousers fall off and kicking them to the heap of clothes. Noticing his swollen cock, thick and hard through the boxers, Silke gasped and palmed it, completely in awe. Merkel inhaled sharply. She lifted her eyes to him.
“C-can I…?”
”Are you sure, kätzchen? “
She nodded eagerly and lowered his boxers, which went to join the pile of clothes. Merkel was hard and Silke thought it was beautiful. She grabbed it softly. It was firm, warm and silky. He hissed at her touch and positioned himself between her legs. She kissed the cock’s head softly, her tongue between her lips teasing the little hole at the top. Merkel's breath hitched and held her head, guiding her.
Silke opened her mouth and took him in. It took her a bit to work out what to do, but when she found her rhythm she started enjoying it. She felt her own arousal pooling between her legs. Merkel was entranced, murmuring her name with the same devotion she was showing him. What she was doing with her mouth was heavenly. He grew even harder. She hummed whilst he was in her mouth, her hands flew over his shaft, holding, squeezing, caressing; she swallowed him whole, slowly, gagging but determined, all while she felt her own arousal drip between her legs, all while their eyes kept locked.
Merkel was on the brink of exploding. She felt him tense and continued relentlessly when suddenly he emptied himself in her mouth, with a long throaty moan while he, reverently, held her head. She swallowed all of it, licking him clean when the aftershocks receded. Merkel's gaze was fixed on her, caressing her face while he breathed heavily, still not fully recovered from the blinding orgasm.
“I never had done that before, but I don't want to have any restrictions with you.” She spoke with a tiny voice, blushing lightly.
“Get in the bed”. He ordered her. His voice was hoarse, throaty after the intensity he had just experienced.
Silke scooted further onto the bed with Merkel crawling over her, caging her between his limbs. His tall frame made her almost disappear under him. Her hands fluttered all over his torso, arms and hips while she giggled happily. He covered her in kisses, devouring her mouth, tasting himself on her tongue. His eyes glowed with desire. His mouth trailed over her face, and descended to her neck and throat, nibbling, grazing and licking teasingly enough to set her senses aflame and make her want more.
She moaned and meowed while she squirmed playfully. He kissed her small breasts, sucking her nipples, alternating between both. Nibbling on one while he rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger. The stimulation was already overwhelming. Silke whimpered begging for more.
“P-please, please don't stop, you're making me feel so good”
Merkel gazed at her. She looked so beautiful all flustered and trembling, her bewildered eyes, her pleading voice, were doing things to him. Without stopping looking at her, he sucked one of her nipples and felt her jolt. He didn't stop, but trailed down to her stomach, then to her belly, stopping just before getting to her folds. His fingers flew over her sensitive skin sending waves of goosebumps rippling through her.
He crawled down between her legs kissing her until he got to her centre. His lips hovered over her clit and his tongue darted, tracing maddening circles around it. Silke’s hips bucked but he pinned her down with his arm.
“Stay still kätzchen. I'm just starting to savour you“
His green eyes looked mischievously at her. She was all flustered and quivering.
“You are so wet already, my good girl”
He purred, licking all the way from her entrance to her clit, capturing this one with his lips, sucking it very slowly while Silke thought she was losing her sanity. But he showed no mercy. He introduced his impossibly long middle finger inside her, feeling the warm, wet, velvety softness, finding her most sensitive spots and teasing them to extricate from her all kinds of moans and whimpers. Making her squirm, totally surrendered to him.
Just when she thought that she couldn't take anymore, he introduced a second finger and increased the pace, curling them inside her, exploring her most secret and hidden pleasure points. Silke was already about to tip over the edge.
“Please, I want to feel you inside me”. She begged, almost sobbing.
He carefully lifted her legs over his shoulders, till her knees were almost touching her arms. He passed an arm under one of her knees and then to her back, embracing and trapping her at the same time. He came up to kiss her and swallowed the moans she dropped in his mouth.
“Gordan, please!” Silke desperately mewled
“Hmmm, look at you, so needy and hungry for me” He teased her. When he was actually as needy as her.
He looked at her with a devilish grin on his lips and he grinded his hips against her exposed pussy, letting her feel the tip of his, once again, hardened cock, which made her whimper impatiently as she begged with her eyes
“Tell me what you want meine kätzchen. Use your words” He purred against her lips. His warm breath caressing her skin, his mouth almost there, but not quite touching.
“I want you. Make me yours. Take me any way you want. I won't deny you anything”
Her voice was trembling with desire and sincerity. There on his bed, naked and in a most vulnerable position, she laid her heart and her soul bare before him. Merkel felt his heart swell at the vision of her, trapped in his arms, about to become his, the electricity and sensuality of the moment heightened by her words. He wanted to dominate and worship her at the same time.
“I never have wanted anyone as much as I want you, Silke. I want to cherish you and drown myself in you. You're so perfect, so sweet and exquisite… “
He couldn't continue. His voice was about to break. He went inside her, slowly but all the way in, while he covered her in kisses. Passionate kisses, reverent, charged with emotions.
He then withdrew, leaving the tip inside her, and back in, slowly. Both of them felt how he filled her up and how she molded herself around his cock. Like a glove, tight and soft against his hard, vibrating arousal. He kept that maddening rhythm as he felt her melt in his arms. The position he had her locked in allowed him to reach full depth, touching in her most intimate spot.
Silke was entranced and overwhelmed. It was not only the intensity of the sex but also the way they were lost in each other's eyes. Every feeling, every expression on his face poured on her like a balm for all the pain, a fire to warm her, a blanket to shield her from the bleak world outside. After years of loneliness and sadness, she was finally home. Tears streamed down her face, Merkel wiped them with kisses
“I love you, meine kleinen kätzchen. You're not alone anymore. I want to make you happy”
“You already make me happy, Gordan, I want to do the same for you “
Without breaking rhythm, he kissed her deeply, slowly, feeling her respond greedily to the kiss like a hungry little kitten being fed. The sensation of being whole because of her was intoxicating.
Silke whimpered, feeling the coil inside her tighten. Him gliding in and out of her was delicious. Her whole body jolted.
“Gordan, I-I… I'm… “
“Shhhhh, I know my sweet girl, come for me. I got you “
Merkel thrust harder, relentlessly, feeling her clenching harder against him and himself about to unravel. Silke’s eyes were glassy, losing focus. Then she melted into pulsating ecstasy. He was marveled at the sight of her dissolving in his arms. Her small, lithe body convulsing in his grip. His magnificent rebel girl, and she was all his, only his.
The realization washed over him and he came undone, spilling himself inside her among her aftershocks. A sound halfway between a growl and a moan came free from his throat as he filled her with his cum. Silke watched him come for a second time. In mute admiration of this man, big, strong, ferocious, but who looked like an angel in this moment with his luscious lips parted, his darkened green eyes locked on her, his taut body trembling.
When the aftermath of their orgasms had subsided. Merkel got up and picked up the towel he had dried Silke with before. He cleaned them both and went back in, wrapping her in his arms, where she curled meowing softly, dazed by the intensity of what had happened between them. Merkel held her, whispering sweet things near her ear while from time to time he kissed her here and there. They were both spent but none of them could sleep, so they just laid there, cuddling and whispering as the night lights bathed the room with a soft, unreal aura.
“Silke…. “. Merkel’s voice trailed while drew lazy patterns on her neck with his long fingers.
“Yes?” she whispered while her eyes were closed, enjoying his touch.
“There's something I want to ask you. It has been hinted at and I’d like to know if you would want to do it… with me”
Silke lifted her gaze all the way to meet his. ”Ask away”
“I want you, I want a life with you, and you have shown me that you want the same”
“Yes, Gordan, I want to be with you”
“I told you that I would teach you, guide you, and help you thrive. Do you know what I mean with that?“. He was now stroking her hair, softly, absentmindedly.
“That you will bring order to my chaos, and guide my path” She shifted a bit to better look at him.
“Yes, it's called a dominant/submissive relationship. You have lacked structure and guidance for a very long time. Forced to be your sole source of comfort and support. I would like to be that to you. So your tired soul can relax and focus. This is a very cruel life for a young girl alone. Let me take charge. My purpose will be to help you thrive and achieve fulfillment.”
“Like when I was a child, when my parents’ care made me feel safe and happy?”
“Yes, you can be yourself but I would make sure that you don't take unnecessary risks. And sometimes it will involve our intimate relationship“. His green eyes, bright with fire.
Silke had the impression that she was understanding where he came from. “Is that why you have been on my back for all this past year? Telling me how reckless I am, nagging me because I'm not eating, and so on? “
“Yes. Exactly. I know you're intelligent, bright and brave. But the amount of times you have put yourself in danger is stupidly high. I totally understand your cause. But you're one woman army, and you're on your own. It's about time you think of yourself. That you take proper care, not only about your own safety but care of yourself. Get proper sleep, not skipping meals for days, not working yourself to exhaustion. You cannot be in a constant state of fight or flight”
He stroked her face as he spoke. His voice and his expression were laced with concern.
“You're right, I'm tired of living constantly in a permanent state of alert. I want to heal, I want to feel normal. I… I want you to take control for a while”
Merkel held her face with both hands. His voice and eyes were intense and firm.
“I'll guide you. I'll make sure you take care of yourself, I'll give you a sense of structure and belonging. I'll protect you”
Silke nodded, “Yes, ok, I want to do that. And… “. She blushed before speaking. “And the other thing too. I've read about it and… “
“What other thing?”
She was deep red, and yet she looked him in the eyes.
“The… sex. You know, the whole sex thing that dominants do. You do that, don't you?”
Merkel had to suppress a laugh. She was something else.
“That's a different thing altogether kätzchen . There are things I would like to try with you, but with your full consent. And they don't involve whips and restraints, unless you want them. But yes, there are scenes to play, with rules to obey. It's done with mutual agreement. And it can be very fulfilling and satisfactory. Specially because it requires total trust and full open and honest communication between us “
Silke’s breathing had become a bit more laboured. She felt curious and somehow … aroused.
“I would like to try”. Her voice was low, husky.
Merkel was still holding her face. His eyes were drilling on her now. “Are you sure, babygirl?”
Silke nodded eagerly. He had a whole new world for her to discover and she wanted nothing more than to be part of it. Merkel got up from the bed and pulled her out of it as well. He put some boxers on and gave her an underwear vest.
“Ok, we will try. Not tonight though, you're worn out. Come with me now”
He took her to the kitchen, and opened the fridge, taking a plate of cold cuts and a tub of cream cheese. Then from the bread bin took the rye bread slices out. He put a small sandwich and a cup of tea before her.
“You are going to do what I tell you to do, like a good obedient girl. Do you understand?”. His voice was deeper, more stern, but laced with concern.
“Yes, Gordan”
Silke felt a flush creeping up to her cheeks. The sensation of relinquishing control was very appealing to her. She didn't realize until now how much she had been functioning on autopilot. Fueled by hatred, revenge and recklessness.
“Good girl, come here and sit on my lap”
He sat on one of the kitchen chairs and Silke sat on his knees sideways and Merkel wrapped an arm around her waist,
“Now, eat. You haven't had anything since this morning. You must take care of yourself, I have noticed that you tend to skip meals or not eat at all”
She, obediently, took the sandwich and ate it in small bites. Merkel observed her while he sipped his coffee. The situation might have been awkward to others but it felt natural and intimate to both.
After she finished and had drank her milk, she and Merkel talked about their lives before they met, and slowly they went into deeper topics.
“Gordan, you know my reasons to go into this kind of relationship with you. But what are yours?”
Merkel went still and it didn't go unnoticed by her. But after a short silence he stroked her hip while with his other hand he brushed a breadcrumb from her cheek, grazing her skin delicately with his large hand. Then he took a deep breath and spoke. His deep voice sounded a bit strained.
“I also lost my family to the Stasi. Like you, all of them at the same time. I was eighteen. I came home one day from school to find them all dead: my parents and two little sisters, my two angels, I adored them. They thought I was their hero and I was very protective of them… “
He couldn't continue talking, his eyes welled up. Silke’s heart ached for him, understanding now all the things he did for people. They had similar stories that had shaped their life choices and they had been brought together by a flick of destiny's hand.
She leaned on his body, curling against him, with her tiny hands caressing his chest. She made herself smaller so he would feel better protecting her. She kissed his neck and collarbone softly and sweetly like a kitten looking for cuddles.
“Now you can take care of me. You will be my hero. Your sisters will be immensely proud of you seeing what you have done for people all these years. They watch over you now, because they're your little angels”
Merkel wrapped his arms around her, kissing her head. He was trembling. She never had seen him breaking down. And she wondered how many times he would have done so while being alone. After a mission had gone wrong, after people had died.
Merkel passed an arm under her knees and got up while holding Silke. He carried her back to the bed. She snuggled her face in the crook of his neck, kissing it sweetly. Once in the bedroom he deposited her carefully on one side of the bed and got on the other side pulling the covers over both of them.
He rested his head on a couple of pillows. There was too much on his head and he couldn't sleep just yet. Silke scooted to his side and leaned on his chest,
“I didn't mean to upset you” she whispered.
“You haven't upset me kätzchen. I wanted you to know about me and my life. I keep no secrets from you”
“Neither do I. You are a good man. From all the paths you could have followed you chose to dedicate your life to free others. I feel so lucky and so happy to have found you”.
Merkel pulled her even closer and kissed the top of her head.
“And you're the bravest woman I have ever met. You have defied the Government from a young age, and you have succeeded in inspiring lots of people to fight as well to bring these monsters down. Now, please, keep safe, because I couldn't bear to lose you”
“I will stop being reckless, I promise. But I want to help you.”
“We'll talk tomorrow about that, now sleep”
She fell asleep shortly after in his arms. For the first time in years Silke slept without dreams. The scent of Merkel and the warmth of his powerful arms soothed her. He remained awake for a long while, watching her as she slept, shuffled and mumbled softly. He hadn't felt such peace in years, like the one he felt now having this tiny firecracker in his life. Eventually he succumbed as well, spooning her, wrapping her in his body. Still not quite believing that she was truly his.
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