Title: Luck Has Nothing To Do With It.
Fandom: Games of Command - Linnea Sinclair
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~ 200 words
Content notes: for fan_flashworks' challenge #15: Double. D/s overtones, biocybe, brief mention of electro!play, 'verse establishment for future kink_bingo fills.
Summary: Kel-Paten and his Lady Sass finally make it to the pleasure resort.


She rolls a double six.

Her hands itch, and she knows he's returned from his errand.

Then she rolls a second, and when she looks up, his eyes are glowing faintly, the expression on his face is hungry.

She walks away from the table without looking, but there are enough gasps that she knows what she's managed. It's less important that knowing she put that look on his face, that's she put it there for years.

He follows.

Their suite is decadent.

She's believed he was dead for months and she's been fighting for her star nation's survival the entire time, but dropping to her knees and bearing her neck to her Tin Soldier is easy, and once upon a time their psychs would have had a field day with that, but she needs to lose control and he needs to regain it - know he can give pleasure as well as pain.

His admiral's insignia (relic of a nation that's already fallen) hangs from the choker he wraps around her neck, and the last piece slots into place, even as the implants in his hands crackle to life and the electricity burns across her skin.

Here is where she belongs.