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Walker started to thrust slowly. He made long strokes, pulling himself back until just the tip of his cock was in her--she could feel his ridge against her inner lips--and then pushing back inside. She was plenty wet before he'd started. She had liked his strong hands playing with her breasts. She liked that she'd had this effect on him. She liked the way he felt working inside her. He rolled her onto her back again and placed his hands on the back of her knees. He spread her apart as far as the bonds on her wrists would allow. Part of her wanted to do more. Camilla could see herself pushing Walker down on a couch, pulling her dress up, and straddling him as she had once before. He was in control now, but so could she be. The drugs he used had lowered her inhibitions dramatically, and he had been chipping away at them since. The other part of her was perfectly happy to lie back on a table while he fucked her. She compromised by squeezing around him each time he thrusted. She had read about pompoir and wanted to try it. He responded to her efforts by increasing his speed and grunting quietly with each stroke. She kept pace.

Her pleasure was rising as well. As it did, she grew bolder and wanted to see what his boundaries were. He had taken a risk by telling her the truth. He was about to cross his employer to let her go. She wondered if he was truly a mercenary or if there were some personal ethical code driving his choices. She tabled that thought. "I thought you said you were going to fuck me," Camilla teased. Walker stopped, surprised. He smiled, gave her a hard, deep thrust and said, "You know, you're absolutely right."

He moved quickly again, releasing her wrists from the cord and tossing it aside. He flipped her onto her stomach, and as her right foot gained purchase on the floor, he lifted her left leg up and set it on the table. He gave each of her ass cheeks a firm smack. She squirmed on the table and gave a little squeal. She heard him slide his pants down around his ankles, his belt buckle clinking on the tile floor. He squatted down behind her and buried his face in her pussy. He stroked his cock with his right hand as his left came up to play with her clit. He was licking her hungrily and teasing her with the tip of his nose. She hadn't crossed the line, she thought, but this was what one toe stepping on it was worth. She gripped a handful of table runner in front of her and let out small, satisfied moans.

He stood back up. "Better?" he asked. Camilla didn't answer and got a light slap on her pussy as encouragement. She jumped up onto her elbows in surprise. Walker put a hand between her shoulder blades and roughly forced her chest down to the table. He brushed the hair back from her face then grabbed her left wrist and held it behind her back. His left hand guided his cock back inside her and then went to her left ankle, bending her leg up on the table. He started again, harder than before. He was as much pulling her back onto his cock as he was thrusting himself. Now he was fucking her, she thought.

Walker was hitting an unfamiliar spot deep inside of her. Camilla managed an, "Oh fuck, yes, there!" before her thoughts melted away and all she could do was moan in pleasure in time with his thrusts. He settled into a steady rhythm to match her breathing and noises. Each thrust inched her closer and closer until, "Ahhhh, god, yes, fuuuck!" Her whole body was tensed up around him. He went as deep as he could into her and held there. Camilla felt a series of muscle contractions around his hard cock and then finally relaxation. She let out a happy moan and sighed, collapsing into the table. He started moving slowly again.

He let go of her wrist and stroked her back. "Good girl, Camilla," he said, for the second time that evening. A thought floated past her that he might have a thing that she could remember and use. She let it go. "When I tell you, I want you to get down from the table and to your knees in front of me. I want you to squeeze your breasts together and stick out your tongue for me. I'm going to come in your mouth, and you're going to swallow everything I give you. Is that clear?" Camilla could tell he was equal parts asking and telling, but he'd just given her a phenomenal orgasm. She felt inclined to reciprocate and replied, "Mmhmm. Yes, Walker."

She could tell he liked that because he started again immediately. Less rhythm, less control, just fucking. She was still sensitive from coming and it felt great. She went back to moaning in time with him. Walker was still holding onto her, but his hands were relaxing and squeezing. He grunted and gave little "Oh fuck"s here and there. He didn't last much more than a minute. "Okay," he said, pulling her from the table. She did as he had asked. Camilla knelt down in front of him, squeezed her breasts together and lifted, opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue, and looked up at him, expectantly.

His left hand moved to the top of her head and he loosely took a handful of hair. His right hand, holding his cock, which he set the tip of on her tongue. He stroked himself a few times, gripped her hair tighter, and came. She felt his ejaculate spill into her mouth. Thick and warm. Salty on her tongue. Walker grunted loudly as he finished in spurts. Camilla felt him relax and licked the tip of his cock as he did. He relaxed his grip on her hair and she swallowed the impressive mouthful he'd just delivered, keeping her eyes locked on him as she did. She saw something change in his expression. It softened considerably. She put the head of his cock in her mouth and sucked on him, moving her hands from her breasts. She squeezed his balls gently and grabbed his ass.

After a couple seconds, he took a half step back, overwhelmed. His cock hung between his legs, still very large, but no longer erect. Camilla licked her lips and waited. "That was," he was still breathing heavily, "everything I expected."

Walker pulled up his pants and zipped them, leaving the top button and belt undone. He walked over to the counter where he'd left her thong, then over to her bra and collected them. He offered a hand, which she took, and helped her to her feet. He gave Camilla her underwear back and she began to dress. He put on his shirt, buttoned it, tucked it again, and did up his pants and belt. Walker rolled his sleeves back down, replaced the cufflinks, and walked over to his jacket. Camilla stood by the island in her lingerie. He came back over, fishing for something in his jacket. He pulled out a clip of money, Francs. He reached into another pocket and pulled out a business card and slipped it into the clip. He slipped a finger under one of the straps of her bra and placed the money, clip, card, and all, next to her breast.

"For your dress, and your time, Camilla," he said, hinting at a smile. "I'll fetch you a coat."

Camilla imagined she could buy another dress or four with the fold he'd just given her. Walker left the kitchen through a side door and she heard some raised voices, including his, speaking German, but couldn't make out what was being said. A few moments later, he returned with a light tan trench coat. He held it up for her to don and she slipped one arm in after the other. He wrapped it around her and tied the waist strap himself. "Let's go," he said.

They walked out of the kitchen. He made a show of holding doors and guiding her by the waist as he walked her past staff in the hall. They reached the front doors. "We're very sorry for the confusion, Fraulein," he said. "The service didn't inform us you'd be replacing Anna." She gave a withering look to the guards who had stopped her earlier. They straightened up and looked away. Walker opened the door for her and walked her outside.

The air was crisp and cool. Invigorating. She felt the breeze by her legs underneath the coat. He took her past the gate to a waiting taxi. "The car will take you anywhere you like," he said, opening the door. Camilla climbed in. They exchanged a look, but no words. She turned to the driver. "The Savoy," she said. Walker closed the door and the taxi started down the road. Walker stood and watched for several seconds. In the rear mirror, Camilla saw him turn and disappear into the night. The embassy fell away and she knew she was free.

She reached into her coat and pulled the clip from her bra. She read the card. Walker's last name and a telephone number only. Camilla leaned back into her seat and closed her eyes as the taxi crossed the Aare and took her into the city center.