Disclaimer: Title after Nancy Friday's famous book. Characters sneaked out from ABC, whoever, and I'm telling you, they need it! ;)
The opening passage is not an actual excerpt from the book "My Secret Garden" by Nancy Friday (since I don't own it), but was inspired by an anonymous entry to a certain website (PM me for name). The passage marked by 'x' is from the cover of the book published by Pocket Books, Simon & Schuster Inc., and the next "excerpt" has been taken directly from the said website (I just loved it! Lol) All the others are made up by me.
Warning:
Graphic sexual material ahead. If you're offended by such, simply do not read.
A/N: I know, I'm supposed to continue my first fic (and I am working on the next chapter, promise! But I'm kinda waiting to see the next episode; just watched the last one btw. – anybody else laughed when Sawyer poured the water from the bucket on his head? It was hilarious! LOL), but couldn't resist the idea which my dirty little mind came up with while I was trying to read the latest UK Cosmo (yay! Foxy on the cover! Yay! Who could blame me?;)) in a traffic jam. It has also been inspired by two fantastic fics: "Random" by Stun04 and "What if" by Megs-3 (seriously, go read them if you haven't yet, but not without a ready supply of cold, cold, COLD water! Lol). Both are collections of independent jexy scenarios, and can be updated forever (hopefully!), so I intend to do a similar thing. It will probably have a continuum to it, but a plot is highly unlikely. ;)
So yes, you've guessed it, smut, smut, smut! And more smut. Lol The leitmotiv is sexual fantasies, and of course I get Jack & Kate to explore them! The best part is, that you, my dearest readers, can provide any fantasy scenario that you would like me to put them through:) Looking forward to the challenge. :)
First chapter is awfully long, because I wanted some introduction to the idea, and didn't want to cut it all up into pieces, but the next ones shouldn't be so. Also, their "first time" is kinda plain, but I thought it was necessary to be able to bring up the kinky! Lol
Oh, I guess it's set sometime around late S2, minus the Others and all weird stuff. :).
Have fun!
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"- we are in a basement. There is a large metal bed, all rusty and squeaky. He blindfolds me and puts me down on the bed, handcuffing me to the head post. He's very strong and I couldn't fight him even if I wanted to.
He ties my ankles to the bottom posts and I can't move while he slowly opens the buttons of my shirt. As he goes, brushing his fingers lightly over my exposed skin, his lips follow, placing agonizingly light kisses where his fingers have left. Like the wings of a butterfly.
He unclasps the front of my bra and I wait for him to kiss my breasts, but he doesn't, teasing me and bringing his lips just a fraction above my nipples, so I can feel his warm breath, but he doesn't touch me. I'm arching up – I want to feel him so much!
But he shifts away, and starts stroking my ankles gently, moving up my bare legs, adding his lips in those sweet light kisses when he reaches my inner thighs. I'm still blindfolded, so I can't see where he will touch me next and he still hasn't said a word.
He stops short of where I most need him, barely tracing a finger over my swollen lips; it's so light that I'm not sure if I'm not imagining this. He had me take my pants and underwear off before and now I'm completely open to him. He moves his hands up my stomach, brushing his thumbs along the underside of my breast, and I wriggle and squirm in a plea for more, I need more!
He continues the tease, kissing and touching me deliberately slow, eventually moving his mouth to my hot centre, where he only kisses the tops of my thighs and I whimper and beg him to uncuff me, he's going too slow, I want it hard and fast and he knows it, so he refuses my pleas. No matter how much I beg, he refuses. I need him, I want him and he finally brings his tongue to my aching clit, stroking it ever so gently, blowing the lightest of kisses over its sensitive tip, suckling delicately all around it.
My whole body is burning and I hate to feel him leave my centre. He's undressing now, and then comes back, rubbing his naked body all over mine, making me beg again, to please take me hard, to remove the handcuffs, to let me touch him.
But he doesn't, he never does.
I can feel his broad chest against my hardened nipples, the coarse hair tickling them deliciously. I can feel his hard cock against my inner thigh and I whimper in anticipation – I have to have him inside me! I feel his strong arms around mine and I'm waiting for him to uncuff me, but he still refuses.
He removes the blindfold instead and I can see his face. He kisses mine, but avoids my mouth, concentrating on my temples, my jaw line, my neck. I can feel his rigid shaft rubbing over my damp folds and I moan to please take me now, do it now, hard and fast, I can't wait anymore. But he only dips his tip inside me, kissing my chest and my shoulders.
Then he goes a little deeper, but still not enough and he's moving so slow that I think, I'd go crazy with frustration. I beg and beg for him to free me and to satisfy my aching need for him, to please go deeper…!
Only when I start crying, he slips out of me, to untie my legs and uncuff my hands, and I'm immediately wrapped all around him, my legs locking around his hips and my hands digging into his buttocks, to pull him inside me as hard and deep as I need him, and I arch up into him, and he complies by pushing inside forcefully now and thrusting fast, over and over again, while I move my arms up to grab his neck and pull his lips down to mine in a hard, passionate kiss."
"Well, well, well, Freckles…!"
Startled by Sawyer's bemused voice, her body jerked and her hands clasped the book close in a flash.
"What have we got here? Never thought you' the kinky type -," she could picture the smug smirk on his face.
Kate shut her eyes for a long moment, feeling her cheeks burn. Was there any chance for the ground to open up and swallow her? Biting her lips, she let out an exasperated sigh.
She hadn't heard him coming up behind her, completely lost in the book that she had found a while ago when going through some of the luggage and deciding to keep it, hidden underneath the makeshift bed, she had in her tent.
She'd dig it out at times, on such quiet, sunny afternoons like that, and sneak out and away from the camp, to sit at the ocean shore, where she thought no one would be looking for her.
She would take her time reading, savoring each chapter, going slowly, making pauses to let her eyes drift unseeingly into the open space of the water ahead, while her imagination would form the pictures, the scenes, filling in the gaps according to her own pleasing.
Filling in the sounds, the textures, the smells, the flavours… Of him; as she imagined them.
At the beginning, she'd only take a few curious peaks into the book; she couldn't have really explained why she'd kept it. It didn't seem like an appropriate choice for the traumatic events she had found herself at. Didn't seem very useful for a plane crash survivor waiting for rescue, while hoping it wouldn't come.
But once she had started reading, there was no stopping. She got pulled into the stories, the sensual, sexy stories of strange women revealing the most secret alleys of their desires, their needs, their fantasies.
Kate was surprised, how many of them she could relate to, how easily the words formed into images in her mind, quickening her heart rate, shallowing her breath and moistening her panties.
Gradually but all too soon, a man's figure started appearing in her mind, replacing the faceless characters of those foreign scenarios. She couldn't help it, didn't really fight it much, giving in to the sweet daydreams of him.
Of Jack.
In her head, he would do everything the stories indicated, they would do it together.
He would tie her up to tease her for hours before letting her come, and another time she would do the same, making love to him with her mouth, taking him to the brink only to pull him back, having him at her mercy until he'd come the hardest ever.
Or he'd grab her unexpectedly to take her hard and fast where anyone could have walked in on them. Sometimes someone would, but he never stopped and they'd continue the frantic fucking despite a transfixed audience watching them.
Or they would smear honey and cream all over each other's bodies, to lick it clean, up and down, tasting every inch of their skins.
There were days, when honey just wasn't enough, and she imagined how he would come across her belly, her breasts, and she would skim the pearly droplets off with her fingers straight into her mouth, sucking hungrily, until nothing was left, while he would be watching with fascination, growing hard again.
Sometimes they'd have a raged fight, yelling at each other like they had happened to, and she would be suddenly very hot watching his eyes grow dark and his breath heaving, so she'd grab him and pull him towards her roughly, knowing that he felt the same, and he'd take her hard, fast, angrily, pushing up against the nearest surface, a wall or a coarse tree, and she would bite and scratch him until first blood showed.
In her mind, Kate had him thousands of times, in every possible place.
In the cool waves of the ocean, it the darkness of the caves, amongst the dangers of the jungle, in the rain, in the heat, in the shower, in her tent; she could even imagine having him take her in his hospital office, which she had though never seen. As she dreamed it, he'd throw everything off of his desk: the files, the notes, a phone, all the clutter, to lift her onto the surface, pressing hard against her, not even bothering with removing her clothes, just pushing her top up enough to expose her breast to his impatient fingers and lips, and then pushing up her skirt, moving her panties to the side to make way for his big, hard cock.
Kate had been indulging in the fantasies day after day now, increasingly frustrated with their difference from reality.
In reality, he seemed so distant, so reserved, so careful not to give her any hope…
It was lust, of course, but long outgrown by a far more complex mixture of feelings. Or wasn't it really excruciatingly simple? She was falling for him. She had already had. And it was irreversible.
And in an ironic twist of fate, it had to be Sawyer, who walked in on her little secret pleasure.
She clenched her fingers around the book, pressing it into her lap, front cover down.
"What do you want, Sawyer?"
She braced herself to look around and up to him eventually. The trademark smirk firmly in place, just as she'd expected. He was going to enjoy teasing her.
"Looks like some interesting reading-matter, sweetcheeks -"
Sawyer squatted down to her side and reached for the volume, taking his glasses off.
"And to think all I got was an outdated automotive magazine, while you've been hiding a little hanky-panky booklet away…!" Sawyer moved up closer to her, murmuring the last words into the side of her face.
"Go away, Sawyer."
"You wish!" he chuckled. "Show me," he grabbed the book now from her desperate grip, leaning away into the sand again.
"Nancy Friday, My Secret Garden," he put his glasses back on and read out the title. "Women's sexual fantasies."
Kate felt her face growing hot, despite the cool ocean breeze.
'x' "More outspoken and graphic than any book before its time, My Secret Garden quickly became a classic study of female sexuality. Today, more than one million women hail this astonishing study as a groundbreaking book – a liberating force adding a new dimension to their sexual fantasies and lives," he continued reading aloud from the back cover, throwing an amused glance towards her.
"Since when are you carrying your glasses around, Sawyer?" she asked in a desperate try to turn the tables.
He simply ignored the comment.
"Let's see…," Sawyer opened the book on a random page.
"- I'm sure I can't take another moment of the torment. I am screaming and crying out, "STOP! NO! DON'T STOP!" but you know those words mean nothing. What I want is no longer an issue. It's what you want and that is to free me from the bonds of my own control. I try to move, to take your fingers deeper into my pussy but you hold me still, I can't move, so I cry out again, this time begging, "Give me your cock?" and begging more, "Please, I need your cock! -"
The word "embarrassment" had just gained a whole new dimension.
"Whoa, Freckles, now that's some fun! - "
"It's just a book," she stated breathlessly, annoyed and ashamed and just wishing she could disappear into thin air but dismally aware that he wasn't going to drop such a juicy subject, once he had found it.
"So…. You and sexual fantasies, huh?" Sawyer leaned in once more, smirking, invading her personal space and stressing those two words as he cracked them on the side of his mouth.
"Sawyer, it's just a book!" she began again, this time louder, agitated, her arm flying in the direction of said item.
But he was quicker, waving it away from her reach.
"Just a book, you say, sweetcheeks? Surely brought some colours to the pretty lil' face of yours," he grinned at her.
"Give it to me," she spat out angrily, reaching over again and pulling herself up from the sand, but finding her wrist caught up in a firm clasp of his stronger hand.
"Not so fast, Freckles," he pulled her back down. "Wanna tell me about that only book? About the fantasies…? 'Cause I sure have them too, ya know," he licked his lips with a sly smile. "Would you like to be tied up, Freckles...? Blindfolded…?" his face was inches from hers now, as he held her arm tightly, preventing any movement.
"Screw you!"
"Anytime!" he laughed out. "But I'm curious, Freckles. Is that what you want?" his gaze searching her face almost flirtatiously, increasing her uneasiness.
"I'm not having this conversation with you, Sawyer!" Kate managed to free herself from his grasp eventually and sprang upright. "Now, give it back!"
Just as she'd thought, he didn't, answering her with throaty laughter.
"Ya kiddin', Freckles? No way are you keeping it to yourself! Gotta share, ya'know," he grinned.
She shifted her weight sighing desperately. Indeed, there was no way he'd keep the book and the revelation of finding her lost in it to himself. The whole camp would soon know about her favourite spare time activity. Jack… He'd know. He'd read it all and be disgusted by her, he'd never even come close to talk to her again… Suddenly, Kate had to suppress a miserable sob.
Doing her best to hold up a brave face, she straightened her back in feigned indifference.
"Fine. Good. Have it. Maybe you'll learn something," she stated, her lips tight and her jaw set.
"'That an offer?" he looked up to her, one eyebrow raised, his expression somewhere between playful and hopeful, she noticed, surprised.
"Screw you," was her answer, anger suddenly replaced by mere reluctance. And she turned around, determined to walk away from the situation as soon as possible, heading towards the camp and not looking back to him once.
"Hey, Freckles!" she heard him shouting behind.
Stopping abruptly, prepared for more vexing, Kate shut her eyes.
"What." She stated back, not turning around.
"Would ya have this conversation with Jackass?"
She spun around gustily, her mouth opening and closing in manner of fish out of water, catching her suddenly rapid breath, as if she was trying to say something, but couldn't decide on it. And in fact, she couldn't.
Deep down, in her heart of hearts, there was no denying, that she couldn't think of anything better than to have this conversation with Jack. To somehow find herself in a situation where it would be excusable, plausible, expected.
But of course, none of that would ever happen and none of that she'd ever tell anyone, chiefly not Sawyer.
"Thought so," his distant voice caught up with her.
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"I enter the consulting room; he stands up when he sees me. He's dressed in blue scrubs, the white starched coat ditched on the chair. I can see his masculine forearms flexing just below the sleeve hems. He's asking me to undress for the examination and I shiver in anticipation of his hands on me.
I turn my back to him, and he starts running his fingers down my spine, drawing circles with his thumbs on both sides of the tense muscles there, massaging them slightly. He's standing very close to me, I can feel the heat of his body radiating to my bare back.-"
"Hey, dude, this is…!" Hurley choked up on his own words, blushing furiously and wiping sweat off from his forehead, as Sawyer made a poignant pause, looking up to both him and Charlie, his eager listeners.
"Sounds like… -" Charlie frowned, tilting his head to one side.
"Exactly," Sawyer chuckled in caustic contentment, narrowing his eyes behind the unflattering glasses. "Listen up:
He moves his fingers further down, skimming the curve of my buttocks, and then back up my sides and suddenly his palms are on my front, cupping my breasts. I moan, and throw my head back onto his shoulder, he lowers his head to kiss my neck, and then he spins me around and kisses me hungrily on the lips, while pressing me close to him, so close I can feel his hard cock against my belly and he tells me he can't help it, he has to have me now."
Jack couldn't believe his ears. He was on his way to the fresh water container, a bit worn down already on this late afternoon. Sun would set soon, and he'd be able to catch a little sleep, having no hatch shift tonight.
Getting closer to a little gathering of three men sitting nearby Sawyer's tent, he could hear what sounded like someone reading aloud. As he moved up, the words grew more and more distinct. His body temperature raising, Jack walked slowly, to stop right behind Sawyer, spotted only by Charlie, who was now making faint efforts to interrupt the reading, glancing up nervously.
"He lifts me up, sitting me on his desk and I push his shirt over his head. The muscles of his chest are so strong and warm, when he envelopes me with his body; I can feel the light tickling of his chest hair on my skin and the gentle scratch of his stubble against my shoulder. He tells me, he wants me fast and I whimper, I can't wait so I tell him to take me as fast as he can and he moves his nimble surgeon's fingers up my thighs –"
"What the hell is that?!" Jack had to stop it, before getting into it himself; the words were mesmerizing and his imagination was working on its own volition.
"Doc," Sawyer's head sprung up as he spoke slowly. "Looks like some chica got to your hidden talents," he smirked.
Jack frowned, shifting his weight.
"What is that, Sawyer?!"
"Dude, it's just a book, cool off," Hurley started in a conciliatory manner, taking the book from Sawyer and handing it out to Jack. "See?"
"Ouch, Doc! Touched a weak spot?" Sawyer snorted.
Jack just let out a heavy sigh, taking the book from Hurley. My Secret Garden – Women's Sexual Fantasies; he scanned the front cover.
"Who would have thought, you bothered," Jack was not exactly surprised to find an erotic book in Sawyer's hands, but the sneering remark came up despite his best resolution not to get involved in any squabbles with the blond guy.
"What d'ya know, Jackass," Sawyer narrowed his eyes. "I bet it's you who could use it."
"Dude, it's like really cool, I mean, in a hot way! Never thought chicks come up with such ideas…!" Hurley stood up excitedly.
"Hell, I thought I knew something about that…!" Charlie joined him, shaking his head. "Seriously, mate, you should check it out, Sawyer found it on Kate- !"
Jack's body tensed as he was processing the information. He registered Sawyer throwing Charlie a stern look.
"It's Kate's book?" he frowned again, his heart skipping a bit at the mention of her and the shortcut his mind took from her image to the volume in his grip.
"Did you take it away from her?" he added sharply, hating the fact, Sawyer would drag her privacy out into the limelight again, just like that, to have a little nasty fun; the book was certainly something she wouldn't be terribly open about, after all.
"I borrowed it," Sawyer stated defiantly, standing up now, and looking Jack in the eye. "And now I'm lending it to you, Doc," he smirked.
"I don't want it, Sawyer," Jack put out his hand, but Sawyer just shoved both of his into his jeans' pockets.
"You don't want it, my ass!" the Southerner laughed.
"You can give it back to Freckles, ya'know," he added after a while, moving back into his tent. "Now go away, all ya jerks, I wanna sleep!"
Hurley and Charlie were already heading towards the bonfire, mumbling words of disbelief, still digesting the discoveries about female fantasy world and leaving Jack stuck in between reason – to chuck the book right after Sawyer into his tent – and desire – to unveil the secrets of her lust. Her, he thought, he no longer perceived the book as a collection of random confessions by various women, but by her, as if the fact she had touched the pages, that the words had sunk into her mind would legitimate them as her own.
He found himself stroking the cover gently, as if touching a texture much smoother, much silkier, much suppler to the one of paper. Her skin.
"Hey, Doc?" Sawyer's muffled voice interrupted his contemplations, but before he had a chance to answer, Sawyer closed the statement leaving him completely speechless:
"Some corners are turned over."
And then he could no more hear Sawyer's rustling around in his tent, punctuated by muttered curses, he couldn't hear the low buzz of the camp, as people moved around in their daily activities, he didn't hear the crackle of the bonfire, or the waves crushing on the beach. He was oblivious to the distant sound of baby Aaron crying, of some young girls giggling, of Sun and Jin having a minor argument in Korean.
Some corners are turned over
Why would Sawyer tell him that?
Would that be her fantasies?
Would that be those words which moulded into images in her mind? To awake her senses, to make her hot and sweaty and wet?
Did Sawyer say that because he knew who she fantasized about?
Had she rejected him?
Jack's heart picked up on its pace, and he finally found the power to move, choosing the direction of a quiet little bay, he knew was behind the rocks that cut into the ocean on the far left; he'd be alone there, to glance into her mind.
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Kate couldn't face going back to the beach, to join all the survivors gathering now around the bonfires, chatting, laughing, sharing food, as one more day declined. If Sawyer had given her away… If he had announced to everyone willing to hear what she had been sneaking out to do… No doubt, he'd embellish the situation; he'd add things to disgrace her completely, acting on hurt pride, after she'd rejected his apparent advances.
And Jack… Jack would hear all of that…!
No, she couldn't possibly face him.
Distressed, Kate chose to walk back to the secluded spot where Sawyer had found her before; just as well she could even spend the night there, she'd thought, and prepared by packing a thin blanket and some food into her worn rucksack.
Walking on past the rocks in the amber light of the sunset, Kate spotted a silhouette perched on the sand, elbows rested on knees, hands clasped, face turned into the ocean.
The distance could have been much bigger, and she'd recognize him anyway. The shapely head of closely-cropped brown hair, the broad shoulders, the long legs, the glistening tanned skin of his strained muscular arms. And a faded t-shirt, the one she knew, bore his intoxicating scent even after it had been freshly washed.
Kate felt her heart growing warm at the sight; she couldn't help it, couldn't help feeling happy to see him every single time she did.
Despite the nagging voice at the back of her head, that she could never have him, never would be with him, that she was not what he wanted, what he needed, despite all the feelings of inadequacy and guilt and fear, she was always drawn to him, by a mightier force, and just being near him would somehow ease her discomfort and her anxiety and she wouldn't feel as unworthy as she did when thinking of him in solitude.
So she walked up to him, not thinking about Sawyer and her book now, not thinking about anything at all.
Only when the distance shrunk to arm's length did she notice a book in his hand, to which he now lowered his gaze, much like Kate had done before, in that very place. How uncanny, she observed, the twist of fate feeding her heart with strange hope. Weak, but real.
Before a chance to confirm her suspicions arrived, he heard her and craned his neck up.
"Kate," he said softly, but a chill run down her spine. His eyes dark and glowing now.
"Hi."
Oh god, why did her voice have to tremble?
"Thought it was my seclusion," she gave him a small smile.
"Same here," he returned it, his eyes flickering with a glare unknown to her. "Think we can share?"
Her smile widened by a notch.
"There's room for both of us," he patted the sand.
She lowered herself to his side, mimicking his position, but keeping her distance. Even without touching him, she could feel his warmth radiating in giddying waves; it was entirely possible for her imagination to be making it up, but his proximity had always managed to send all Kate's senses into an overdrive.
He didn't make any attempt to hide the book, simply closed it and turned it around, so the back cover was on display.
Yet, she still couldn't be sure of what that was, especially with her efforts at pretending not to look.
"Not too dark to read?" Kate threw casually, eyes born firmly into the horizon.
Jack was quiet for a while, too long, she decided unnerved.
She turned her gaze to him. He was studying the front cover in apparent concentration.
"Sawyer said it's yours,"
Jack's eyes finally met hers as the book in his hand made its way towards her.
She took it, reluctantly, holding his intense gaze before glancing back to the volume in question. What else did Sawyer say?
"Sort of," she nodded, self-consciously.
The air around them seemed to be growing thicker and thicker, invisible cobweb spinning around them, trapping them into the inevitable.
She knew now, that he knew: the same words, the same images populating both of their minds. The simple cognisance was threatening to take her control and shred it to pieces, pushing her into his arms, whether he wanted it or not.
"I found it. A while ago," she explained, just to say something, something neutral.
"Oh," his chin tilted up briefly.
Kate flipped through the pages without really seeing them. Awkward silence. Risk it or leave it.
"Did you like it?"
"What?" he seemed genuinely confused.
"The book. Did you like it?"
He chuckled in slight embarrassment, but soon enough a warm smile lit up his eyes.
Only for a second did his gaze danced on her, before returning to the sand, bashfully.
"Yeah," he said in a low voice.
Neither made a movement. Kate felt so tense, she was afraid to merely stir on her spot, afraid that she would lose control and go straight for him, his closeness too much of a temptation.
It was now or never.
"Do you…" Kate bit her lip. "Do you fantasize, Jack?"
His head sprung up.
She saw a myriad of thoughts flashing in his eyes. Bewilderment, disbelief, caution. And then hope, affection, longing. It took her breath away.
Kate watched his lips opening slightly, to say something, which he didn't, not for a long moment.
"Yeah," he nodded faintly, "I do."
Thousands of needles jabbed along her spine, in a flash, both painful and delightful, as she felt herself drowning in the promise that his eyes held.
"What about?" her words breathless, rushed.
The wind moved a random strand of her hair against her neck, bringing a shiver of sweet anticipation, as his eyes were silently telling her what she had only wished for.
And then she saw his face shifting closer to hers, so close, their breaths mingling in a carnal flame. Kate watched his bottomless brown depths becoming blurred, while he closed the distance with a whisper:
"This."
And he was kissing her, lips so soft and warm, moving tentatively over hers, tracing out their shape, tongue probing deftly at the corner of her mouth.
Sudden dizziness washed over her, swaying her overwhelmed body, but his arm was right behind her, in time to steady her, so sure and solid, pulling her ever so slightly into him.
Kate felt herself gasping and she opened her mouth eagerly, flicking her tongue over his lower lip in both plea and invitation. He complied, deepening the kiss, moving his tongue to meet hers, sliding it into her waiting mouth to explore the delicate, velvety flesh there.
His kiss was everything she had imagined and so much more. Real and intense and sensual and thorough, agonizingly slow, but she could sense the impatience, the wildness, the crushing passion underlying shallowly, all of which once unleashed, would make her scream in ecstasy, would make her beg him to stop because the pleasure would be too much to take and then beg him more, to never stop.
He tasted so good, so good, she noticed, already addicted to the hot recess of his mouth.
She flung one arm to his neck, to pull him closer, kiss him harder, with all the hunger that he awoke in her, all the primal fire that he enkindled deep within her body in a force, she had never thought existed.
With her hands, with her body, she was telling him, desperately needing to tell him how he completed her, how he rebuilt her, how she believed in them. How she had longed for him each day, not being allowed to touch him, how she embraced void each night, the empty space meant for his body to fill. And there was no more a hollow in her soul, how he had crept in there, bringing light, bringing out light.
Kate registered being lowered to the sand gently, his arm still holding her firmly, the other one landing by her side, supporting his weight, as he hovered above her, kissing her with full force now, nibbling on her lips, suckling on them, stroking her tongue with his own purposefully, as if he wanted to drink her up, suck her up into himself.
Teasing him slightly, she caught his tongue in between her teeth and tickled its tip with her own, while spreading her palms flat up and into his short brown hair, grazing his scalp softly.
She was rewarded with a sharp sigh and his body moving closer, pressing at her side, his free hand playing beneath the hem of her top, where he had found a stripe of bare skin.
Kate released his tongue, kissing the corners of his mouth, and rubbing her cheek against his, delighted to fulfill her desire of testing the coarse texture.
A shameless whimper escaped her throat when his moist lips connected with her throat where it curved into the collarbone while his hand moved up underneath the fabric to skim over the side of her breast tentatively. Kate arched her back into him for more, her brain clouded completely by his heady musky scent, by his taste on her lips, by the warm weight of his body pressing up closer and tighter against her, by the sound of his hot ragged breath blowing into her neck, by his knee parting hers now instinctively, moving to in between her legs, demanding access, which she gladly provided.
It wasn't until his hips were fully cradled in hers, not before she could feel his hardness pressing intimately into her overheated centre through their clothes, while she bucked up enthusiastically to meet him halfway, not before her hands made their way up his t-shirt to stroke the perfectly defined muscles there, that he had suddenly pulled away from another fierce kiss, to look in her eyes.
"What are we doing, Kate?" his whisper hoarse, out of breath.
She continued rubbing the nape of his neck lightly; she had already learnt he loved it.
"Do you want to stop…?" she searched his dark eyes, smiling timidly, dreamily. Her heart was racing in fear that he would and she shifted underneath him, knowing it would produce a grind against his hardness and cut at his self-control.
She couldn't let him stop, not now, not when he was so close, so warm, so alive, the prospect of being left cold and alone on the sand more terrifying now than anything had ever been.
He inhaled sharply and shut his eyes at her invasion, lowering his mouth back to hers, seemingly unable to resist.
"Perhaps we should…," he started.
"Do you want to…?
Jack sighed, brushing his lips against hers and shaking his head in negation.
"You?"
His gaze locked with hers again and its intensity gave her goose bumps.
She understood what he was asking, understood that he needed to know; if she gave herself to him now, would that be for good? Did she want to be his fully, wholly, without running, without hiding, without playing around? Was that real and was she ready?
Kate made her decision long time ago, or it was made for her before she was born, but she had never dared to hope to see those questions in his eyes.
Lost for words and suddenly on the verge of tears, she blinked at him slowly and it was her turn to shake her head.
"No. Never. -" and she pulled him down to kiss his mouth with all that she had to offer: herself.
It was as if he allowed his passion to take over then, crushing her against him, taking his busy mouth to explore each patch of bare skin with complete focus on every spot, gauging her reactions, seeking for the places which made her squeeze his shoulders almost painfully, which would make her gasp his name out.
Everything he did, each touch, each electrifying kiss left her wanting more and more, never enough.
She tugged on his t-shirt, now crumpled up somewhere around his shoulder blades and Jack propped himself up briefly, to take it off, making Kate shiver involuntarily both in loss of his warmth against her and at the sight of his sculpted chest.
Reaching up, she trailed her fingers across the firm expenses of his sun-kissed skin, meeting the prickly hair there, moving to his bicep, to trace his mysterious tattoo and back again, to his hardened nipples.
His chest was raising and falling in quick shallow breaths, as he accepted her caresses, letting her hands travel along their discovery tracks.
The way he looked at her… It made Kate's heart flutter; His eyes black with lust now, as if he longed to eat her alive, to devour her greedily, to virtually rip her clothes off and fuck her hard, burying himself as deep as ever, bruising her on the way and never caring about that, but as if he was consciously stemming himself.
It made her want him more yet; the frail promise of his strong body to overpower her, to force the sweet surrender out of her, it would drain all resistance away, should there had ever been any.
But at the same time, there was endless tenderness in his eyes, the care, the affection, the respect, the need to protect her. It did, however, manifest much alike: as if he wanted to melt her into himself.
Kate wondered what he could read in her own eyes.
And he must have read it right, because the next thing she felt were his lips on her own again, in a kiss so passionate, so devoted, so truthful, that Kate felt the aching for him inside her double, triple, multiply by each dart of his talented hot tongue against hers.
Breathing into his mouth, she grabbed his hand that was playing languidly across her stomach and shoved it up onto her tingling breast, with a simultaneous buck of her groin against the irresistible temptation of his hard length strained beneath the heavy denim, eliciting a low, almost animalistic grunt from the back of his throat.
"Kate - " was all he could utter.
"Jack…" she followed.
And his long fingers were moving over her waiting breast; she pressed up against his palm, unable to stop herself, wanting more, always more.
He drew circles with his thumb around her taut nipple through the fabric, teasingly, but then cupped her breast firmly, pushing it up slightly, and her breath got caught down her throat from the infinite pleasure.
Kate moved her hands down his strong back, to grasp his firm buttocks and urge him closer, tighter, rubbing against him now, in the long-restrained need.
She was glad to see, he wasn't planning on holding to his persistent control, that his impatience matched hers, that he pulled her top roughly over her head and struggled now with the clasp of her bra, but not succeeding, so he just pushed the garment up and out of the way, stopping momentarily, drawn to the sight of her heaving chest in the fading daylight.
His movements slowed down upon uncovering her breasts, his hands on her yearning flesh, passionate now, earnest, focused on cherishing her.
One roughened palm closed over her breast and she moaned in pleasure as its heel rubbed against the flushed nipple, and she panted, capturing his earlobe with her teeth, to yes, yes, please, not to stop, when his hot mouth joined in, his tongue lapping on the tight bud, his lips sucking gently and then stronger, making her head spin and sending the sensation straight down to her lower belly in a delicious spasm and straight into between her legs, in a pool of fervent wetness.
She couldn't stand the increasing tension, desperate for release; she was grinding up against him frantically now, her hands roaming over his sculpted body anywhere she could reach, her lips only leaving his to cover his jaw, his neck, his shoulders in rushed sloppy kisses, to taste everything about him, the salty tang of his sweat on her tongue.
She reached for the waistband of his jeans, and he didn't protest, no, he encouraged her, backing up and giving her access, mesmerized by her tiny fingers fumbling with the zipper of his jeans. She could tell he enjoyed the image; he was going to remember it.
Kate wanted to implant dozens and dozens of images into his memory, she wanted them to replace his fantasies, to fuse with them, to stimulate them, so he would always come back to her when he wanted to feel like this.
Determined, she wriggled her hand past the heavy fabric, eager to touch him finally, and they both gasped when her fingers connected with the velvety skin of his hard shaft.
The look on his face was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, Kate decided, as she grasped him firmly and stroked once, twice, his features smoothing visibly as he allowed himself to fall victim to the ineffable pleasure.
Fascinated, Kate leaned up to capture his parted lips with hers again, and he responded immediately, shaking the momentary inertia of pure bliss off and away, and returning her attention, freeing her from the bra successfully now and bringing his hand down, to where she needed him, cupping her through the jeans.
The arch of her back was pure instinct, as she moaned his name breathlessly, but the contact wasn't enough and he knew it.
Her eyes fluttered open in disappointment when he moved up to kneel between her legs and his erection slipped out of her hand. She knew, now that she'd identified that part of him, now that she'd got to touch it, she would never be able to get enough; she would want him over and over again, under her fingers, in her mouth, inside her.
A chill ran down her spine at the notion, and her insides contracted in a fresh tide of arousal. What he does to her.
She melted under his touch, her skin turning to hot liquid, her whole body evaporating, floating outside time, outside space, in the transcendence they shared; everything became absurdly insignificant now, the world imploding into the eternal call of her body to him. She wanted him, she needed him, now, and so she told him.
His pupils dilated further as he nodded slightly and let out a ragged breath; he unzipped her pants and pushed them down roughly, getting stuck on her boots for a while.
He was loosing the control battle and it only excited her more.
Jack came back to her yearning lips in a trail of butterfly kisses up the curve of her calf, the smoothness of her inner thigh, the hollow of her hipbone, the swell of her breast; the dizzying tickle of his stubble following.
His mouth wanted to be gentle, but his lust didn't let it, and she felt his teeth flirting with the idea of an ample bite, grazing the crook of her neck, brushing over it. With an unsuppressed whimper, she cocked her neck, exposing herself to him, inviting him, surrendering to him. Yes, Jack, yes.
A low grunt left his throat when he suckled on the creamy softness hard, bruising it, attacking it, but she was only too willing to give in, to accept each and every assault, knowing well, that he was paying her back with his bare soul, bare heart, all of it, and that his body was designed to pleasure her, just as hers for him.
Kate heard her own cry, when his skillful fingers found their way past her underwear, to slide into her folds, to rub her swollen clit lightly, to apply deliciously rhythmical pressure, to dance over her opening before slipping in and beginning to thrust now, agonizingly slowly, even though they were shaking with his stifled urge to devour her hard and fast, to quench his carnal thirst.
The thirst that threatened to leave her dried up dead if he wouldn't pour life into her body soon. Now
She urged his jeans down, and he helped her, never stopping his kisses, never stopping his whispers of how beautiful she was, and how he had always belonged to her, and how he wanted to give her everything, anything.
Together they managed to rid him of the offensive layers and now he was coming back to his rightful place in between her legs, and she couldn't stop marveling at how stunning he was, his body a work of art, only so much better, warm and alive.
She was clinging to him, wrapping herself around him, her craving to merge with him never satisfied, not before they'd be unified.
Her hands landed on his hot shaft again, her heart pounding in anticipation – he was so hard, and so big, all for her now; just as the excessive moisture of her body was all for him. She couldn't stop it, even if it was too much; This is real; her panties getting soaked, time and time again.
For him. To take her. To make her his own.
Take me -Jack -…Only you -
And so he did.
Stripping her out from the flimsy panties, he repositioned himself at her burning entrance, both of them dying for the ultimate connection.
Both of their mouths opened, and gasped, and moaned simultaneously, as their eyes kept searching each others' for the answer to the sudden, but perennial question: how does it feel so right? Why does it feel so good…? What if I had never found you? My love?
My love.
He pushed inside her, slowly but steadily, as she stretched for him, realizing that she had never felt anything sweeter, that her whole life had brought her to him, day after day. That they were made for each other, fitting so perfectly, each dip in the bay of her body now finding its fulfillment, designed just to harbour each and every inch of him, each vein and every edging.
This was it, the point of no return, not that she would ever want to return. He was in her, claiming his right of her, bringing the inevitable change, the change that nature had pushed them into, they both too feeble to ever fight it.
And he was moving out now, but she knew it was only to come back stronger and her eyes shut eventually, giving in to the sensation of his thickness stretching her almost painfully, while her inner muscles contracted in a foretaste of her ecstasy, gripping him, pulling him deeper inside in greed.
His lips landed on hers again, in a passionate kiss, matching the infuriatingly slow pace of his thrusts, slow, but thorough, forceful, bringing his cock all the way up into her hot tunnel and twisting his tongue around hers like ivy, while her limbs twined all over him, heels digging into his buttocks, to urge him deeper yet, harder, and hands holding onto his shoulders, encircling his neck hastily, as if she wanted to absorb him whole.
She couldn't even feel the scrape of sand on her sweaty skin, but the scrape of his bristly cheek on her jaw line as he hid his face in the crook of her neck rippled through her body in jolts, meeting the waves of pure bliss that each of his pushes evoked.
It was almost completely dark now, the sun disappeared in the ocean, but she could see the inner glare in his eyes when he looked at her, so intensely, so lovingly, her heart could burst now.
All her fantasies, none of her fantasies could have prepared her for how wonderful it would be.
Kate smiled at him, in the immense joy of their union, and he responded with a suddenly tender kiss, with his hand closing over her breast deftly, caringly, rubbing her swollen flesh as if he knew exactly that was what she needed. So good, so good.
But it wasn't enough, still not enough, she needed more of him, all of him, she needed him to ditch the control, to pound into her with everything he had.
"Could we… – can we - … can I go…?" she panted, nudging him, signaling her intention.
"'Course," he whispered wholeheartedly and flipped them over, so that she was straddling him.
She was now rocking against him, each stroke bringing her closer and closer to her release, at awe how little it was taking, how she was on the brink already, and determined to prolong the pleasure of having him in but at the same time unable to stop.
Her eyelids were heavy, her vision blurred by uncontrollable tears when she continued to move, watching his handsome face all the time, telling him in wordless gasps and whimpers and moans how good he felt, how he filled her up so completely, how he was filling the hole in her heart.
His eyes so dark, so warm now, reflected back at her everything she was silently telling him.
Jack raised one hand up, to caress her cheek and she was taken aback again, how her whole face would fit in there, in that beautiful large palm which must have had been so smooth once, groomed to perfection, but was now calloused and scarred by the harsh reality.
That hand could bring life, she thought, her heart swelling; it had the power to give life.
Never stopping her frantic movements met by his hips thrusting up, she turned her head, to plant an affectionate kiss into his palm and then captured his thumb, which was now stroking her lower lip, with her mouth, sucking on it, swirling her tongue around it, tasting the salt of his sweat. She bit the tip lightly and then moved to his index finger, sucking harder yet, her gaze fixed firmly on his, and she felt his cock swelling even larger within her, while the grip of his other hand on her hip tightened.
Freeing himself from her greedy mouth, he grabbed her hand shakily, entwining his fingers with her own and pushed them both to their joining, pressing up on her swollen clit.
"Guide me -" he whispered hoarsely, and her heart skipped a beat.
And so she did, maneuvering his fingers over the most sensitive spot, to rub against where she desperately needed it, and now he was moving them in sync with their thrusts, sending jolts of ecstasy through her entire being, leading her to the cliff of her sweetest fall, which she was no longer able to back up from.
She leaned down for a kiss, but her lips could not move, immobilized by the feel of his length probing at her insides, by his fingers working her intently, by his eyes bringing the ultimate answers to the questions of existence, by his hot breath meeting hers, so she just brushed her lips against his with every thrust, every push and every pull, much like her hair dangled over his face rhythmically.
And she was coming now, in a series of powerful spasms, wishing so hard to share the experience with him, plunging her fingernails in his skin, coming in waves, in tides, falling out of her body, grasping for air as her lungs were failing her; his name stuck in her throat, in her mind, but unable to pass her open mouth, the sound she'd thought would mould into the one perfect four-letter word becoming a mindless cry, over and over again, just as he kept his fingers moving and never broke the rhythm of his thrusts when she slacked against him, and she was coming, and coming, and coming for what felt like hours, time becoming an irrelevant factor now.
Exhausted, Kate collapsed onto him, his arms holding her securely, soothing her, breaking her fall into the sweet abyss of surrender to the perennial destiny. Come with me, come along, be mine.
"I've never…-, no one's ever…- Jack…" she panted breathlessly, irrepressible tears running down her face.
"Because I love you," he told her simply.
She pressed her lips to the crook of his neck forcefully and run them up his coarse jaw line to hover over his mouth. The look in his eyes was one of endless devotion and Kate's hand flung to cup his cheek while her hips continued their instinctive movements against him.
"My love -" she stated earnestly, opening her soul to him, hoping that her eyes would tell him what her mouth couldn't.
He spun them around again, to pin her underneath his stronger form once more, and she moaned as he thrust forcefully within her, as hard as ever.
"Please…," she whimpered, grabbing his buttocks, urging him to go deeper, as deep as he could, needing to feel him, to free him, to see him loosing himself in her.
"You are my everything," he breathed out against her lips and she was floating again, high from the powerful orgasm that he had brought her to just seconds ago, oversensitive but responding eagerly, with the force of her infinite desire for this man.
"Make me your everything," she whispered back, needing to watch him, to give him the same absolution that only he was able to give her. "Give in to me, Jack…"
Her words seemed to tear on his control, she observed, so she kept whispering how good he felt, how good he made her feel, how she had been dreaming of having him like this, of knowing him like this, how she had craved him, all of him.
She felt his hand grabbing her buttock, lifting her, pressing her tighter to his groin, as he moved faster now, harder, ramming into the recess of her body in desperation, seeking his release, begging her in hot huffs against her neck to follow.
"Kate -, Kate -" he kept repeating her name in a plea or a prayer, she couldn't tell, as a tide of painful pleasure washed over her again, sweeping her out of reality with a force that sunk her teeth into his shoulder and she was tasting his blood now, her cry muffled, her eyes open wide at awe, and she felt his heartbeat racing now, his breath jagged, his thrusts ripping her apart, his body giving into her finally, giving in to the primal lust, shaking off all pretension of control, of courtesy, of consideration, the wildness she had always seen underlying his refined manner finally breaking free and flooding her insides in a hot wave of his release.
She welcomed his weight crushing her smaller body as he collapsed on top of her and went on stroking his sweated back soothingly, running her fingers through his hair, catching her breath in time with him, neither of them able to utter a word apparently.
The night fell above and over them, in thick, humid darkness, cocooning their spent bodies, separating them from the world.
"If I had known that…" she nibbled his earlobe and he chuckled lightly against her hair.
"You know now," he lifted his head to look in her eyes.
She brought both hands up to cup his face.
"Did you mean it - ?" she whispered, heart leaping in sudden anxiety.
"Of course."
And he was kissing her again, not only with his lips, but with his soul, with his entire being, giving himself to her, like she had never been given anything before.
"And I do, too," Kate breathed into his mouth, sighing in slight disappointment, as he rolled them over, leaving her body, but wrapping his arms tightly around her.
His breathing subsided slowly, and she assumed, he'd be asleep, when his voice startled her:
"So, you and the fantasies, huh?" the unusual playfulness making her grin.
"Well…" she giggled, "What about you?"
"That was one of mine," his eyes twinkling with warmth when he turned to brush his lips across the bridge of her nose. "And yours?" he was reaching for the forgotten book now, flipping through the pages casually.
"I think you know."
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At last! Gee, those two have worn me out...:)
Sorry if I bored you to death, I seriously need a challenge to write a compact fic for once. :) Take the note, I kept the "sex-talk" minimal – good or bad? Too mushy?
Also, it was written in one sitting and I got kinda stuck on attempts of possible enhancements – blame my PMS moodiness. So, please don't smack if it sucks big time. I hope the next two chapters will shape up better (done in drafts now). Chapter 2 is Kate's fantasy being played out (the one including blindfold ;)), and chapter 3 – Jack's (surprise:)). After that, I'm gladly taking requests, as promised!
Pretty please, show a little heart and review – so I know what to flaunt and what to avoid!
Ah, and the usual: please bear in mind that I'm not a native English speaker, hence possible lack of language sophistication. I'm working on it:)