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The Treasure at Home	By : abra Category: S through Z > Tomb Raider Views: 12616 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Tomb Raider, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Disclaimer: Disclaimer:The characters Lara and Hillary do not belong to me. I took them from the movies "Lara Croft: Tomb Raider" and "Lara Croft Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life", produced by British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC), Eidos Interactive Ltd., KFP Produktions GmbH & Co. KG and several other companies. No money are being made from this story. Amelia Donaghy is the lead character in “The Bone Collector”. She was played by, surprise! Angelina Jolie. So… I have to add that I don’t own the characters from “The Bone Collector”. Also, I used several lines from Red Dwarf in this chapter, the same way I did in the first two. How many do you recognise? Rating: NC17 (It’s getting a little rough!) Midnight, you’re a champion! Thanks for reading and correcting this chapter! Thank you for the reviews! You’ve been very kind. That’s pretty much the way I write, laughing and feeling, well, romantic. Chapter III “Would you like a cup of tea, m’lady?” He found it very easy to slip back in his butler role. This was the first time in Lara’s experience when his perfect words did not have the proper effect. He had said the right thing, but she wasn’t feeling any better. “Don’t leave, Hillary!” Her tone was somewhat more abrupt than she intended. “Take a holiday! Or join me in the Caribbean to look for the sunken galleon.” “I’m sure Mr. Turning will be back in time to accompany you.” He said, pouring her the cup of tea she hadn’t requested. “Forget Bryce! Come with me! You’ve been ready for this for years. You don’t need to hold the fort anymore.” She took the cup from his hands. “I’ll always be your friend, Lara.” He reassured her kindly, knowing she felt like she was losing her family again. “Do you even love her, Hillary?” She exploded. So, she knew. Hillary took his time before answering, which only served to infuriate her. He had known Amelia Donaghy for a long time. They had talked on line for years. He had been a far-away moral support for her when her husband had died. Lincoln Rhymes had been one of the greatest forensic genii of the age and his achievements had not stopped when he was paralysed from the neck down. Amelia was a police officer who acted as his eyes and his hands during a hunt for a serial killer. The relationship between the beautiful young woman and the amazing genius had been a platonic love, turned into a short, but happy marriage. Lincoln’s death left Amelia’s soul barren and she accepted Scotland Yard’s offer trying to get away from a painful New York without Lincoln. Hillary’s appearance in her real life after the internet conversations brought an unexpected sunlight in her despair. “That’s why you’re doing this, isn’t it? You want to go live with her in London. Do you love her?” “I like Amelia,” he used the other’s name trying to make Lara see her as a person, not an anonymous foe, “and I know this could turn into something more if I give it a chance.” “What if you’re wrong?” “What do you want of me, Lady Croft?” There it was. The very question she kept avoiding for months, maybe for years. The long period of calm Lara had traversed came to an abrupt stop when her judgement clouded: she was eighteen again and he was the only man in the Universe. “What do I want?” the words came out slowly, rolling off her tongue menacingly. It was a voice Hillary had never heard. It was a voice Lara used to seduce and intimidate, the voice that preceded life or death battles. Most of her lovers knew it and they could still hear it in the dead of the night years after Lara had disappeared from their lives. All her enemies who had heard it were dead. Hillary had no way of knowing the danger he was in at the moment; Lara was not sure if he was a lover or an enemy. Lara took the last step towards him. Their bodies were still apart, but only barely. Hillary felt the nervous tension and stiffened. He did not wish for the situation to escalate, but he was given no choice: she was turning it into a not very friendly match. The pause had lasted long enough for Lara’s blood to fill up with adrenaline and to make up her mind. She spoke without thinking anymore. “I want a final shag.” She said in casual tone, trying to undermine her need to have him one last time, refusing to admit how much this man, her first, meant to her. He was not reacting yet, continuing to survey her with the alertness she had learned to observe in combat. “I want what all women in Buckinghamshire have had.” He twitched. Who was she to talk about that? She had had stores of lovers! As least he hadn’t brought any of his girlfriends at home! At least he hadn’t let her know he was making love to another woman when she was only a few rooms away! At least he hadn’t been as cruel as her… She noticed his scowl and decided to wipe that indignant look off his face. Not even his bright, clean, perfect white shirt was going to throw her off game. So what if he smelled of laundry detergent and looked fresh after a whole day of work! So what if she nearly climaxed just dreaming about this idyllic image for so many years? Tonight was all that mattered. She pushed Hillary towards one of the pillars of his bed, containing the longing to kiss him. She was planning to kiss him only once more in her life and that was going to be the last kiss goodbye. ‘She’s doing it again’ Hillary thought, knowing that he could not let it happen. Not for the wrong reasons. Lara ripped off his shirt without looking in his eyes. She hated him intensely. His lack of reaction made her blood boil even more fiercely. She had to get a response from him, even if it were just hatred. “What’s wrong, Hillary? I’m not young enough for you?” Hillary trembled as if she had slapped him. He saw her smiling. She thought she was winning. Her breast was now pressed against him. He could feel her breathing heavily and he suddenly felt an eerie lucidity. The anger spawned by her words passed over him and through him. He was in a state of concentration he only reached under Lara’s unceasing attacks. Before she could react, he had captured her wrists and was satisfied to see her taken aback. Lara never liked it when someone was changing her pace. “You’ve always been to young for me,” he murmured, swooping in for her mouth. ‘No! No kisses.’ Her mind rebelled without any success. How could those thin, unremarkable lips of his capture her soul from the very first touch? How could his tongue, so versed in fine irony, unleash such wild lust through her body? Many minutes later Hillary broke the kiss. By this time his fingers had left impressions on her wrists that were going to be visible for days. “Is this what you had in mind, my lady?” He asked her out of breath. Anger overtook lust and Lara’s temper sparkled again. Hillary had used without realising the very technique that was sure to enrage her. He had pointed out a moment of weakness, the way he marked his winning hits in combat to egg her on. Lara didn’t attempt to free her hands, but pushed him in bed, landing on top of him. Instinctively, Hillary let go of her hands trying to break the fall. She pinned him to the mattress, holding his body between her thighs and pulled her top off. She felt Hillary react beneath her. “Should I be modest, Hillary?” she asked him, while guiding his hands on her breasts. The man tried to fight the temptation, but from the moment her nipples grazed his palms, the battle was lost. He began to fondle her breasts, making Lara’s anger dissolve into a wave of desire. He had wanted to do this for fourteen years. She sometimes taunted him getting undressed in front of him, offering him alluring glimpses of her splendid body. At such times, Hillary put in balance her friendship against the chance of a sexual encounter. What stopped him was not as much the fact that she would sleep with him for the wrong reasons in her perpetual search for a father figure. What stopped him every time was that, had they made love, it would be for the last time and he knew how addictive she was. He knew that if he had her once, he would only want her more. She moaned and Hillary understood that there was no turning back. This was going to be their last night together. He sat up straight startling her. His mouth was on her breast and she felt her panties soaking. He was working her breasts like no one before, as far as she could remember in the whirlwind of sensations bustling in her brain. He was ruthless in his pursuit of pleasure. There was no kindness in his tongue’s fast lapping, no mercy in the intensity of the suction his mouth created. Lara writhed in painful pleasure. She pressed his head to her bosom. She wanted more. She willed herself back to some degree of control. The young woman fought her way through the relentless stimulation and opened her eyes. She looked attentively at Hillary’s head buried between her breasts and she had to bite her lip hard to prevent closing her eyes again in front of the erotic image. Her fingers got lost for a while in his hair, caressing his greying temples. Hillary looked better at forty-three than he did in his thirties. With a superhuman effort, Lara pulled herself out of the uncontrollable state of desire and yanked his head away. She grinned seeing Hillary disoriented and took advantage of this, she pushed him back to the mattress imprisoned in a ferocious kiss, which she broke only to give him an order. “Pants off, Hillary!” She lifted herself from his lap to give him space to do it. ‘Not again!’ he said to himself. If this were going to be the last time she would have to do it his way. Lara’s legs were shaking, and her whole body was tingling with anticipation. She was trying to intimidate Hillary, but she found increasingly difficult to maintain eye contact when she felt his hands between her legs. He was disobeying. Instead of unzipping his trousers, Lara felt him unbuttoning hers. He forced his hand inside her tight pants and the wetness he discovered there pleased him a great deal. He flicked his index over her hot, swollen, throbbing flesh and Lara trembled. He loved to see her vibrate under his touches. He made the most out of her temporary lack of control and pushed her off him. In a split second, Lara found herself crushed beneath Hillary’s heavy body. “I’d rather think that your pants should come off, sweet Lara!” He had never called her that before. But then again, he had never truly frightened her before. There was something harsh and despondent in Hillary’s gaze. Lara had seen that look before in others. It was the look of someone who had nothing to lose. It betrayed the darkest hopelessness. Her worst fear came true when Hillary turned her over on her belly in an brutal and precise manner. Hillary clamped her thighs together while sliding her pants and knickers down to her knees. The cool air brushing her exposed skin made her feel even more vulnerable. It was a sensation she usually hated and she tried to regain the upper hand out of habit. Lara’s sudden movement unbalanced Hillary for a second, but he reacted promptly. He squeezed her legs tighter between his knees and spanked her. Her face was buried in the mattress, but Hillary heard her muffled moan. He spanked her again, just to make sure whether she had groaned in pain or pleasure. The young woman was shocked by the intensity of her response. She hated lack of control. She had always hated it. Then why was she reaching orgasm before he even penetrated her? Hillary looked at the reddened buttocks and unfastened his trousers swiftly. He didn’t bother to take them off, he just pulled his hardening cock out and slid it between her cheeks. Lara writhed again at the touch of his smooth, hard cock. She wanted to rebel against his domination and at the same time she wanted him inside. She was exempted of taking a decision. Hillary’s right arm sneaked beneath her and lifted her off the bed while his left placed a pillow to support her. She was unbelievably wet and eager in that undignified position. She had her ass in the air and when she felt Hillary’s fingers search for her entrance all she could do was clutch the sheets and try not to cry out his name. Not just yet. Hillary parted her lips and caressed her honeyed slit with his fingers. He guided his cock towards her entrance and enjoyed Lara’s reaction to his intrusion. She tasted every bit as good as he remembered, he noticed licking his index and middle finger. He tortured Lara not penetrating all the way. His hips were moving back and forth in a frustratingly lazy rhythm, driving her insane. He was arousing her slowly, apparently with no intention to ever make her come. Lara tried to deepen the penetration raising her back high up in the air. Hillary’s reaction was swift again. He got out of her completely and pulled her head up by the hair. He leaned and whispered in her ear. “My way, Lady Croft!” For the first time that evening, Lara tried in earnest to get out of his influence. She attempted to throw him off, but Hillary was an excellent rider, just like her. He remained astride her and pushed her head into the bedcovers. Lara soon stopped her fight to push him away and struggled to breath. She was acting like a frolicking filly in a harvest-time pasture and Hillary took great pleasure in her restlessness. He didn’t believe for a second that she was in pain or afraid of him. He knew that she had managed to subdue all the alpha males who had ever passed through her life and she was not used to being overpowered. After being her butler, her lover and her friend for the better part of twenty years, Hillary sensed that she needed this. He bathed his fingers in the honey dripping out of her and studied detached the fascinating picture of her exposed, quivering, vulnerable body. He considered entering boldly where only customs men dare to probe, but decided against it. She was the opposite of relaxed at the moment, and that only meant that the experience would be painful for both of them. He played with his lubricated index around that tight entry, he even jammed it inside her several times only to hear her moan. He knew just where was the limit between pleasure and pain, so his teasing pokes confused her even more. Lara was unable to decide whether she liked it or not, of if she wanted him to take her that way. All she knew was that she did not want him to stop. He could device any form of stimulation as long as he was still touching her. Hillary’s restrain vanished and he made his way abruptly into her. The woman’s stifled moans were giving him permission to take her. He was all the way inside her in one smooth thrust and he felt her walls enclosing him in hot wetness. His finger kept going in and out of her other entrance creating a mixed arousal that was spreading in violent waves through her body. Lara’s hand tried to sneak beneath her, to add her own stimulation to his, but he stopped her instinctively. He placed his hands on her arms and supported his weight on them, refusing Lara any movement. He felt her enjoying the submission and started to pump aggressively into her. His thrusts were hurting her, but it was such a satisfying pain that she came a lot sooner than she had expected. The man enjoyed her orgasm and allowed her convulsions to take him over the edge. Hillary was relatively lucid when he decided not to pull out. He came inside her and found that to be a very satisfying revenge. ~~~ Several hours later, Lara woke up. Her whole body was sore. She opened her eyes and discovered she was still in Hillary’s four-poster bed. But Hillary wasn’t there. The only physical trace of him was a torn white shirt. ~~~~~~~ Author’s note: That was consensual! She entered his room with the intention to have sex with him and that did not change in any way.
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The Treasure at Home