The light from the bedside lamp spilled over her, casting her skin with a warm glow which bounced of every inch of skin he revealed as he slowly undressed her.
"When you said you'd make it worth my while to wear a dress tonight, I wasn't thinking that this was what you meant-" she broke off as his lips sucked a sensitive spot on her neck, making her shudder.
"To be honest Lemon," he said between kisses to the column of her neck, "I can't say that this was the way I planned to thank you. Dinner tomorrow evening was meant to be the thank you, but this.. This is just.. Extra."
She was totally embarrassed at the way she whimpered after he said extra. The way he drawled the word out, like a low growl, made her shiver. He said it like he craved her, like she was desired. And that made her whimper because she'd never thought Jack Donaghy would desire her. But evidently he did want her, because he was pressing his lips against her, and his tongue was lapping at her skin. He pulled back, and at this point she felt like she was melting in a pool of lust, something no man had ever been able to ignite in her before. She didn't care how she looked as his eyes burned her skin, as he drank in her form.
She bit her lip as he watched her before asking "What's wrong? Am I.. Do you not want?.. Because we totally don't have to and I'll go and then tomorrow we can be all 'Hey you, I haven't seen you naked so we're cool' and be just fine.. In a totally non-fine way." She rambled sitting up.
He blinked and shook his head before ignoring the majority of what she had said in order to say "I think you look beautiful." And then his lips are pressing against hers again and she can feel his erection against the skin of her thigh. She gets with the programme (finally), and hurriedly she starts pushing at his clothes. By the time she successfully rids him of his clothes, he's somehow managed to strip her of her underwear too.
And then he's on top of her, and he's pushing into her, and it's like something that they regularly did because even Liz (who is pretty inexperienced in the whole sex department area) can feel that this is different. They respond instinctively to each others movements, quickly finding a rhythm. He feels different to every other man she's been with, and it's not just because he's reaching a hand between them, going straight to her clit. Or the fact that his thumb starts rubbing at her so diligently, whilst he's pressing kisses, hot wet kisses, against her mouth. Or the fact that every time he thrusts into her his fingers tighten their grip on her hips. Or that he keeps mixing the rhythm up, sometimes slowing so that she can feel every inch of him pulling back so only his tip is still in her and then pushing back in so it feels like he's getting deeper and deeper. Or because he groans with every thrust, and she in turn whimpers. No, she's pretty sure it's none of those facts, because it's most probably to do with the fact that he actually makes sure she comes first. And she does. It's long, and hard and the room feels like it spins and if she didn't feel so amazing she's pretty sure she'd be terribly embarrassed at how she moans his name. Loudly.
He rests inside her, one hand stroking her hair away from her face, as she recovers. When she can breathe again she leans up and kisses him before she starts moving her hips, encouraging him to do the same. He does, and his hands grip her thighs, pulling them up around him so she's gripping him tightly. He shifts them slightly and then... dear god he's so much deep, she doesn't think any other man has done this before because she definitely can't remember ever feeling like this. This good. He's grinding against her, hot and hard, and she doesn't care that her breaths are coming in deep rasping heaves, or that they are sweating like marathon runners. She just cares that she climaxes again (another first, two orgasms) and her walls clench around him tearing his orgasm from him.
Moments later, he levers himself up, slipping from her as he drops on to the bed beside her. She laughs as she feels his nose brush against her neck, and he follows it with a swipe of her tongue as his arms wrap around her.
When she's finally coherent enough to actually form words her only question is "I still get that meal right?"
His answer is a chuckle, one that she can feel rumble through her body, and he kisses her shoulder.
"No, but really Jack, I do get my food? Right? Are you sleeping Jack? Jack?"