At the end, the skipped also dinner-preferring to get just a little something while they were out with their friends, family and former coworkers. Jane didn't mind, but he could understand if Lisbon didn't feel like staying out. The last 24 hours had been quite eventful, with Francisco leaving and then his crazy idea. Getting married out of the blue, when they had kissed only twice- and on that very day. Nobody would have done, but him. But after all, it wasn't like he had ever thought he could have shared his life with someone else. Lisbon was the one for him, and he had been stupid enough to stay away for two long years. The longest years of his life. Sometimes he thought he should have stayed more, forever and ever, but at the end, it had been too much. Once given the chance, he came back to the States, and first thing first, he went looking for her. When she had tried to shut him out he had felt like the whole world was crashing down on him, but a glance told him everything: he had to have her back in his life, even if only to make it better and remedy to his past mistakes. And decided to marry instead of some long-term engagement or whatever was the ultimate proof of his feelings. Lisbon knew how he felt about marriage, how seriously he took it. She knew that marrying her meant that he was going to stay, forever and ever.
But maybe he should have thought about it a little better. Maybe he should have gotten her involved. He knew she didn't want a fancy wedding- abhorred the things, actually- and he was ready to give her the simple religious wedding she was going to crave sooner or later, but… well, now what? They were married- and they both still have their places, have never cohabitated before and they had never consummated their love in the physical and carnal way.
But she was in love with him, right? And she wanted him… or at least, he thought so. Lisbon's love had always been so pure and sweet, based much more on her emotions that he didn't know for sure. He was still a good-looking man, had always been, but she hadn't been intrigued by his body. It was his mind, his dark past, the need to show him he was what she saw and not the evil man he had always seen himself as.
"You getting lost?" she asked, chuckling, embracing him from behind. He had been standing at the kitchen counter for over fifteen minutes, musing about the happenings of the last few days. He had been so lost in his own world that he hadn't even seen her coming. He smiled: only Teresa could have this effect on him, the almighty mentalist.
"In my thoughts? Definitely. In your apartment? Hardly." He paused, looking around the space. It wasn't such a big place. There was barely enough room for Lisbon herself, let alone a grown-up man and a child. Yes, her office could be transformed into Francisco's room, but it was something that could work out only for now. Once grown up, he would need more space, and a bathroom for himself alone. No, this house was no place for a family- they had to remedy that, and the sooner, the better. "Did you consider moving in with me?"
She rolled her eyes at him, crossing her arms, her back against the counter. "Yes Jane, in the five hours I've been married to you, my only thought was, where are we going to live now? And if we are going to adopt Francisco, is my place big enough? And how is his place?"
He shook his head, chuckling and messing her hair like she was a baby- which she seemed, when she was pouting like that. "Yes, you did."
She huffed. "Go to hell. Take a toothbrush" she told him, faking indignation. "seriously, I don't even know if you still live in a motel room. I mean, you lived in motel room for ten years after we met, and from what I know, you did as well while you were…." She paused, gulping down a mouthful of saliva. She didn't like to think-. and to talk- about the two years he had been gone. It still hurt, and she had decided that she wasn't going to dwell on the past any longer, living and .loving her present instead. "You don't live in a motel room any longer, right? Because I couldn't live in a motel." Especially not the shady places he seemed to enjoy. She wanted to build an home with her family, not fearing that her husband could be approached by prostitutes and her son by drug dealers.
This time, it was his time to roll his eyes. He was even starting to get a little mad. Has she really been that blind, oblivious to his desires? "Of course I don't live in a motel any longer. Which man in his right mind, set to have a family, would?"
Teresa looked at him with surprise in her shining green eyes. She was in disbelief. "Hang on. Are you telling me you thought this over? That it wasn't a spur of the moment thing because the child I already considered mine had been taken away from me and the only way to get him back was to prove I have a steady family environment and someone to rely on in the times of crisis?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. Yeah, she had been pretty blind the whole time. "Teresa, Teresa, Teresa… I decided that I was going to marry you the moment you slammed the door in my face."
"Oh, wow, so is this the big secret?" she asked, laughing, shaking her head as well, but happy. "all I have to do to make you do something nice is threating you badly? I should have thought about it sooner.."
"It wouldn't have worked." He told her, getting closer and closer, serious, his voice low. "But now it does, trust me." they were so close he was just a breath away from her.
"So…have you really thought this over, Mr. Jane?" she asked him maliciously, running a singer finger along his chest. She felt him shiver under her touch and his intake of breath, and it gave her a rush of adrenaline she hadn't felt in a long time- if ever. Power. She had this power over him. Patrick Jane, her man. "Are you telling me you didn't think about our wedding night?"
He gulped down a mouthful of saliva, closing his eyes and willing his brain and not his traitorous body to speak. "I just thought that… that I'll never do anything you don't want to do. And…" he paused, and Teresa was close to laughter, so much she could see how much he was struggling to keep his proverbial cool. "and, if you want to wait, I'll do it. Wait, I mean."
Teresa shook her head, and took his hand in her own, guiding him across her small apartment. "I think I've waited long enough, Patrick." She underlined his given name, and he felt like a sudden relief hit him with the strength of an hurricane. He suddenly grabbed her, forcing Teresa's back against the wall, and claimed her lips in a forceful kiss that made her toes curl. His hands roamed her body, pressing in all the right spots, busy trying to find a way to get rid of the clothes he had chosen for her that day.
He had chosen them. and she had worn them. for their wedding. And now… now, they were done with waiting and controlling themselves. Jane felt suddenly like passing out; it was overwhelming, it was too much, much more than he had ever thought possible, more than he had thought that he could have had just few months before, when she had closed the door in his face. He started gasping for air, he closed his eyes, and tried to concentrate on her scent, his nose buried in her hair. It smelled like vanilla, cinnamon and something unique that was just Lisbon. He started sobbing, just like he was a child, and he hated himself for that. It wasn't just the lack of control- that, he could accept if it was before her – but the fact that he felt like he was ruining it all. Lisbon wanted to have her wedding night –their wedding night – and the only thing he could do was crying because he still thought she was too much for him and she deserved so much more than him. Over two years, and nothing had changed in his mind- actually, he was pretty sure that things had worsened. He wasn't going to be surprised if Teresa asked for an annulment in the next few hours-he was a wreck.
"Jane?" she asked him, her small, warm hands soothing massaging his chest; he tried to nod, to make her understand he was there and he was going to be all right, but he couldn't find the strength to. He didn't deserve Teresa- but he was what Teresa wanted. And he could live with that. He just needed to calm down a little before.
"Yeah, yeah, I am…" he breathed in and then out, taking big breaths, and shook his head. "I am all right. I just… need to focus."
"No, you don't" she told him sweetly, kissing the base of his neck, her hands still massaging his chest. "You need to calm down and tell me what's going on." She patted his chest, then took his hand in her own, and guided him toward the couch; they sat on the white leather, close but not touching yet, Jane watching in front of himself, Lisbon focusing on him alone. He run his hands on his face, and she didn't need to ask him if he was irritated- she could see it on her own. She gasped, when she heard a mumbling that seemed too much like a I can't do this.
"Do you regret this, Jane?" she asked him, her eyes now focused on her knees; she was scared to meet his eyes; what if it had been all a huge mistake? Maybe they had run too much. Maybe they weren't ready for this.
This time it was time to gasp, and like a fury, like a desperate man, Jane left his position on the couch; he jumped like a panther, his hands on both sides of her face, his lips busy kissing every inch of her features, of available skin. He was crying while he did so, and Lisbon felt her own tears suddenly added to the mix. "No, no, no, don't think this, Teresa, never think that. You are the only think I have ever wanted. And this is…" he paused, nuzzling her. he was starting to smile again, she could feel it against her own skin, he was relaxing. This was good. And it felt incredibly nice- and more intimate than any kiss they had shared until then. "I can't believe we are really here. That you have forgiven me… and you are now mine."
"Ehy" she said, resuming her massage on his chest. Jane seemed to like it, if his moans of pleasure were of any indication. Lisbon blushed as she heard the sound, as she thought I wonder what kind of sounds he makes when he is making love.
"I think I'll never get rid of telling you what a bad girl you are…" he chuckled at closed eyes, still purring, and when Lisbon showed him away, faking indignation after his mini mind-reading session, he laughed, free and happy, and covered her body with his own. "Well, hello Mrs. Jane. Nice to meet you."
"Just for the record" she told him, jokingly, her hands busy massaging now his scalp- and he still purred like a big cat. "I'm not going to change my name."
"And just for the record" he tried to answer between moans. "You'll always be Mrs. Jane in our bedroom."
"But, Mr. Jane, this isn't our bedroom…" she mocked him, still with that teasing voice, her hands still massaging his scalp, busy playing with the curls.
"Oh, you know what I mean…" he told her, his nose now between her breasts, buried in the soft material of her dress. The fabric was so think that she could actually feel his hums reverberating against her thoracic cage. "You'll always be Mrs. Jane when we'll be naked and busy giving each other mind-blowing pleasure." He chuckled, and felt her tensing underneath his. He stopped to purr as Lisbon's hands stood still, and he lifted his eyes, founding her looking at the ceiling in shock.
"Lisbon?" he called her, but he didn't get an answer. He tried again, this time with "Teresa?"
"How do you know I am good?" she asked him with a voice laced with panic, moving on a sitting position, forcing Jane to leave the comfortable position her had found himself him. He sat at the other end of the couch, and stared at her like she was crazy. "I mean, only God knows what kind of things you like and you have tried… with all those Latin-American young women who walked on the beach half-naked undressing you with their eyes."
As she crossed her arms over her chest like to hide, Jane looked at her like she had suddenly got a second head. He growled: what was she thinking? It didn't make any sense, but if talking was what she needed to feel better and more secure about the whole thing, so be it. "Lisbon dear, with all due respect, what you are talking about, it doesn't make any sense." He shook his head, smiling. He just wanted to take her in his arms and kiss all her worries away. In answer, Teresa rolled her eyes, as to say, right.
"Lisbon" he moved his right index in an hail hitcher way, asking her to come closer. When she did, he whispered in her ear. "I haven't had sex yet."
She parted, and blushed. "Oh, you mean…." He nodded. "And… so… in Vegas…" he nodded again. Quite proud of himself. "But… why?" she sounded almost mad and too surprised, like it wasn't normal. Well, he guessed it wasn't- not in the 21st century, at least. But he was an old-school gentleman, after all, and she was supposed to know it.
"Well, you may found it hard to believe, Lisbon, but I tend to take sex seriously. I'm not interested in sleeping around for the sole purpose of a physical release. That, I can do it on my own. I like my sex to go with a little feeling, all right?"
"Jane?" she called him, irked. A lot. "First: Lorelai Martins and Erika Flynn. Second: are you saying I am a whore because I have one night stands?"
"That's not what I said and Lorelai was an exception-made for a good cause, and that I regret, and I never, ever slept with Erika Flynn."
"And, just out of curiosity, am I an exception for a good cause too?" she asked, hissing. Jane closed his eyes. Great. Lisbon was behaving like she was having PMS. Just great. He groaned. How the hell did they reach this point? He had been the one afraid of intimacy and unsure, and suddenly Lisbon thought about the women he had been in his life- and not been with as well.
He shook his head. They had just basically ruined their wedding night. Maybe it was time to save what was salvable and rest, sleeping on it. So, he pinched the bridge of his nose and turned to see Teresa. She looked as hard as a stone, infuriated.
"All right. I guess we are all very tired and we've been through a very emotional day. Maybe we better sleep on it before we say something we may regret come morning." he paused, taking a big breath, his heart broken a little. this wasn't how he had pictured things to go, but he could understand her a tiny bit. Yes, she had taken him back, and forgiven him, but he couldn't change the past, and he had had broken her, time after time. "I'll have a tea if you don't mind."
She shook her head as he was already walking towards the kitchen; it had been a request made mostly out of courtesy, as it was still her place and he had no business at all being there and behaving like he owned the place. Yes, they were married, but they had never talked about it. maybe it was too soon. Maybe it was all a mistake. But he didn't want to think like that. He just couldn't.
While he was getting ready, he started to sniff, like he was a baby who couldn't hide or control his emotions. He hated when he had to drop his mask, but right now he didn't have any choice. Sometimes, he felt that he never had any, if and when Lisbon was concerned, and while he was filling a cup- a turquoise one, a gift from Teresa, almost identical to the one he had lost a couple of years before- he felt two small arms wrapping around his waist, resting on the soft fabric of his shirt. Everywhere she touched, he felt like Hell and its flames were skimming over his skin. He had never been that warm before- he had never been that hot before.
" 'M sorry" she murmured against his shirt. She didn't reach his neck- joust his shoulder-blades, and yet he felt the pressure of her soft lips like she was touching bare skin. "You all right?"
No, he wanted to tell her. I am not all right. You make me feel too much. So much I hurt everywhere. You make me lose my control. You force me to let it go of my mask. You know me. You see me. And I love and hate you at the same time for this reason.
With reflexes of a feline, he turned, and grabbed Lisbon, lifting her until she didn't seat on her kitchen table; then, delighted and spurred on furthermore by her gasps and sighs of delight, he went for her neck. He sucked and nipped the tender skin left uncovered by her dress at the conjuncture of her shoulder, and just thinking about the hickey that was going to be there the next day aroused him- everybody was going to see and know she was marked. Taken. His.
"Jane…" she moaned, her hands not idle, but busy exploring everywhere. It was so much, she was on sensory overload. She didn't know where she was supposed to touch him, there was just so much of his she wanted to discover, now that she was finally allowed to, that she just grabbed everywhere she could. His shoulders, arms, curls, his neck, his chest… did she really try to stop this night from happening because of doubts? His behavior was erasing them all- he was the man he allowed only her to see. Because he was hers.
And she wanted him. Now.
Grabbing him for the curls, she forced Jane to lift his face, and took control of his mouth; she didn't expect his permission, but as soon as he opened his lips, her idle tongue went to work, and explored the still semi-unknown territory; she bit his lips, and as she licked the blood away he gasped, opening his mouth again, furthermore, to her exploration, her attack. What a kiss, he thought. It was different from every kiss they had shared until that very moment. It was dirty, erotic. It was sex and the promise of the sex that had yet to come.
As they kept kissing, she went to work on his clothes, and in no time she had him unbuttoned; in one movement, Jane got rid at the same time of vest and shirt, revealing to her his naked chest. It wasn't the first time she saw it, but it was so different. Last time he was dying. She thought. Last time, she had been too scared to think about it, but now, under hooded eyes, she saw the magnificent specimen he was, and groaned, foretasting the things that were to come. Smooth skin, lean and muscular, almost no hairs- and small, round nipples hardened by the liquid pleasure running through their veins.
"You like what you see?" he asked when he found the strength to part from her skin; he was hilarious, unable to contain his happiness. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. But mostly, he wanted to see her getting lost because of him, losing all her control – it was the only thing he had always wished for since they had met over a decade before.
She was on her way already to get there- she couldn't even nod any longer, she just moaned and sighed, and he just kept kissing her. he hadn't even touched her yet… and she was already lost. He grinned against her skin as he left a butterfly kiss against her neck, soothing the love-bites he had left there before.
"Jane.." she begged, her hands again in his curls, trying to force him to look at her. but he didn't give her what she wanted, he just shushed her with his voice, tender and yet filled with strength she had always knew to be there but had never witnessed first-hand.
She did as he told her, and didn't protest when Jane nudged her legs apart with his knees and his imposing body; his left hand, now bare after so many years, went to her face, and he gripped her chin so that she knew she had to stay there and not move. His left hand caressed her left leg, starting from the knee, and then moved up, up and up it went, until it didn't find the hem of her underwear. He looked down, panting- he knew what he was going to see, what was wearing underneath the dress, and yet it was just too arousing a sight to lose it.
"Jane…" she begged again, sighing. She was almost crying. She had a fire in her belly, a need he didn't want to fulfill-not in the way she wanted him. Teresa Lisbon wanted him, her husband, in her. wanted to see the almighty Patrick Jane losing control. His touch alone couldn't help. It wasn't going to be enough.
"Sshhhh…" he told her, kissing the skin of her neck again, his eyes focused on her lace-covered sex – and without having him to say her to, she mover her gaze toward it as well, and saw him, slowly, excruciatingly slowly moving away the elastic. He skimmed on her lips, again and again and again, making her crazy with need and want. She grabbed his biceps, with such a strength and a force he was probably hurting, she was going to leave bruises, but neither of them could care any less.
"Oh, honey, you are so wet…" She gasped at his dirty words, and he smiled of a lazy smile, and Teresa sighed when, finally, finally, parted her lips and penetrated her with a finger. He started to move it in her, his thumb pressing on her clit, Teresa sighing while she kept at his hand pleasuring her, and then, when she wasn't expecting it, he added another finger to the mix. He moved his fingers with easy and expertise, and when he felt her inner walls starting to contract around them, he adjusted their position, moving his wrist just a little, and when he flexed his fingers, he hit the right spot, and he felt hot, musky juices filling his hand. He looked at Teresa, her eyes huge, lips parted, panting, and a pouring sound escaping her mouth.
"Beautiful" he said, smiling smug- he hadn't lost his touch, after all; he lifted his fingers to his lips, and sucked them in his mouth, moaning at closed eyes. When he was done, he opened them once again, making eye-contact with Teresa. "And exquisite, dear." She gasped, that expression again on her face, and Jane laughed, wondered if it was possible that she had just gotten another orgasm just because of the visual. "I'm going to enjoy very much making love to you for the rest of my love, sweetheart." He told her, nuzzling her neck with devotion and affection.
He took her in his arms, a dead weight, and carrying her bridal style he carried her in her bedroom- their bedroom. He left her on the bed, and then, standing at the feet of the piece of furniture, he slowly got rid of the remaining clothes, making a strip-tease for his lady. "You never told me if you liked what you were seeing, Reese…" he told her. grinning like the cat that got the canary, as he stood in front of the bed with only Calvin Klein dark grey brief on. In answer, she bit her lips, nodding a little- yes, she liked what she was seeing, a lot. He was as well-built under his belt as he was on top of it, well-proportioned and if her eyes weren't betraying her… well, he was a delectable male specimen, not too big but definitely big enough- very enough. Oh well, she guessed it was just their luck she didn't like just vanilla sex. Jane seemed to be the kind of man who could make things very interesting for a woman- in the bed department.
"Do you want an hand with it?" she asked, her voice laced with malice, going to sit on the king-size bed. She wasn't looking at his mouth-watering erection, but kept eye contact with her mate, slowly undressing, until every piece of cloth she had worn that day was forgotten on the floor, and she stood naked before him, in all her female glory. It was Jane's turn to gasp, to feel once again overwhelmed. Teresa… he had only ever imagined her like that, and it was still strange to think it wasn't only a dream, and yet here she was. Naked as the day she was born, breasts well-proportioned, big enough to fill his eager hands, long nipples ready to be hardened and pleasured by his idle tongue, legs that seemed to be infinite, muscular and lean body, no hair, none at all -like he had already seen before. She slightly parted her legs in open invitation, her folds glistening with desire and the juices of her first orgasm. Teresa grinned, and finally moved her gaze along his body, stopping at his groin. There was a wet spot on his briefs, sign of the desire he felt, and his erection wasn't a secret any longer, as the head of his penis was showing itself, the underwear unable to cover his rock-hard manhood.
"Sit on the bed, Jane" she told him, as she stood, moving her hair away from her face. He quickly and a bit awkwardly get rid of what he still had on, and did as she told him, going to sit where she was before; Teresa didn't waste any time, she went for him, one hand in his curls, her lips buried against his own, he right hand conquered his erection. he was quite big, not the biggest one she had ever had, but it was enough to give her troubles when she wanted to encircle it. She squeezed his member, and Jane moaned, begging in the kiss to let him go- he didn't want to ejaculate like that, not year first time together, not on their wedding night. If Teresa liked to play, he would have given her whatever she wanted, just not right now. He was ready to become her sex-slave and obey her every order, but he needed this night, just this once, to be about him and what he needed and wanted.
"Reese…" he begged her again and again between frantic and sloppy kisses. He was getting harder and harder in her hand, he could almost feel the blood filling his erection furthermore, like molted lava in his veins. He wanted to erupt-just not now. Just not like that. But she didn't want to listen. He would have laughed, if he could have found the strength- it was comical how their roles were reversed in the bedroom.
He put his hands on her shoulders, and with a move he had seen Teresa perform once with a suspect he reversed their positions; Teresa gasped, but didn't show any sign of not appreciating the suddenly display of male strength, and Jane resumed the kissing, all the way keeping her wondering hands at bay.
He tsk-tsked her, looking in her eyes, her pupils so dilated they looked like they were black- and he knew it was a reflection of his own gaze, filled with need and desire, years of pent-up lust for each other. They had waited for so long, suffered so much, gone through so much, and now that had overcame all the obstacles keeping them apart. And now, here they were. Finally having their moment.
"Allow me" he begged with a demanding voice in her right ear, just before nipping the earlobe. "Let me."
She gasped, and yet nodded, and when he took her ankles and parted her legs as much as he could, she didn't make any opposition; she held his gaze, and when Jane started to kiss her and tease her entrance yet again with a single digit she saw stars. She was getting frustrated. She was getting more and more turned on by the minute.
"Do you like it, Reese?" he asked, still a whisper from her lips. "I like it very much. I like having you losing control. I like being the one robbing you of your cool…" he kissed her again, and changed position a bit. He used his elbows for leverage, allowing his weight to rest on them so not to crush his love, and lowered his mouth to her nipples. He tenderly sucked first one, and then the other, in his mouth, making her growl. He could see from the signals she was sending his way she was approaching another orgasm, and this wasn't how she wanted things to be. She didn't want to come for his fingers, or for his mouth on her tits. She wanted him in her-now.
"Jane…" she begged, but he didn't listen to her. "Patrick.." she tried again. This got his attention; he chuckled against her, and then, shifting position a bit, he teased her entrance once again- this time with his stiff penis.
"Patrick…please…" she repeated again and again, her hands and her face buried in his curls. They were soft and smelled like sweat, sex and ocean and just him.
"Tell me what you want, Reese…" he told her, unable to contain his pleasure. He was getting mad, it was too much. If she didn't tell what she wanted- and needed- in the next few seconds, he was going to lose his control and take her there and then, bare.
"She told him. "Just you. Nothing else… nothing… I don't… need anything."
He smiled, glad that he was going to enjoy his first time with Teresa without barrier between them; after all, they knew each other; she had always been careful in her sexual encounters and had never stopped taking the pill, and he had never had sex after Lorelai- and took a full screen examination afterward his only time with her.
With a gasp –from Teresa- and a groan -from him- he joined their bodies for real, burying himself in her to the hilt. Part of him wanted to take his time, wanted to make her have yet another orgasm, but Teresa had been clear, and this time he didn't know if he could control himself.
He didn't waste any time, and started to move frantically in her, like an animal, panting in each other's mouth. Teresa never stopped to look at him, and enjoyed the sensation of his cool sweat falling on her heated skin-it was erotic, and almost soothing. He buried his head at the base of her neck, and groaned and biting he moved in her, hitting her cervix, and stimulating her engorged clitoris every time he surged in the deepness of her body.
"Reese…" he told her, his voice hoarse, filled with tears-of regret for a past that couldn't be erased, a future that they had gotten the chance to build together. She shushed him this time, her hands caressing his sweaty back, and gasped every time he surged in her, feeling her body trying to keep him in, and his manhood getting more and more engorged. And then, he bit, hard, her shoulder, and she creamed, coming, making him giggle and laugh, making him proud and smug and arrogant and happy at the idea of granting them both their releases.
He moved other three times in her, then he felt the tell-tale feelings in his testicles, and when he felt he was about to ejaculate, he left her body, straddling Teresa. He looked at her, and pumped his engorged manhood like madman, like a maniac, and it was with a smile that he came on her, covering with his rich cream her abdomen and her breasts. Lisbon was breathless, for the sight, and because she had never thought Patrick Jane capable of such a dirty sex game.
"Too much?" he asked her, out of breath, when he fell with his back on the mattress- he started to feel cold, but he didn't have the strength to move and take a blanket.
She laughed, and shook her head, moving next to him. their faces were just a breath apart, and to make her point, she dipped a finger on his ejaculate, and then licked it clean. Just to prove him that if he was a bad, dirty boy, she could be a bad, dirty girl as well.
"Wow. Didn't see that coming." He told her, quite speechless. "God…death by sex will be such a nice way to die, Reese…" She didn't comment on the nickname. She actually didn't mind it. it was nice, said by him, for some strange reason she couldn't quite explain. She nuzzled his neck, and then took a blanket from underneath their heated, and yet cooled, bodies, and covered them with it.
"And that's just the start." She told him, as they were falling asleep in each other's arms for the very first time as husband and wife. "and this is only the beginning, Patrick."