She straddles you as you're leaning back on the couch.
"You're drunk."
"So are you."
"I'll be taking advantage of you."
"No, you won't be."
"Maura, stop."
She doesn't. Before you know it her hands are on your neck, pulling you in and her lips meet yours with such fervor, it's like she was dying and they held the elixir of life. You can't help but give in and your whole body arches up to bind to her. She tastes sweet, like the coconut rum, half a bottle of which you both downed in ten minutes. Her lips are soft and moving hastily down to your neck, and you feel the tingle of her fingers gently grazing your abs as she lifts your top. You remove hers promptly too and your eyes drown in the sight in front of you. You hesitate, but she goes back to kissing you.
"Maura, you'll regret it in the morning."
"No I won't." She says this quickly, unwilling to part her lips from that sensitive patch of skin between your neck and right shoulder.
"Yeah right, like last time." you think it, and it comes out of your mouth so silently, you don't know if she heard it. The music she played in the background covers it up further. You're now not sure if you even voiced it.
She shuts you up by kissing you and your back slams into the couch again. You want her on top of you. You want to be on top of her. You can't decide which one you want more.
"Let's pull this couch out." you say, afraid you'll overdo it if you suggest moving to her bed.
She gets up and steps back without a word and you take the coat and her purse you casually threw next to where you were sitting and move them to the armchair. When you turn back she's already pulled out the couch. You both end up in a mess of limbs and you don't know who did what but you find yourself over her, spreading her legs with your knee and she moans. It's the most beautiful sound, and you want to hear it again. And again.
The music stops.
"I forgot to start it as a playlist. Can you..." she points to the laptop and you get off her.
She says the name of a band and the title of a song you are certain you haven't heard before but she definitely know what she is doing because the song was obviously made for sex. The tune envelops your brain, still hazy from the drinks, you think you've lost sense of time and space, and when you turn back her pants are off. You look at her underwear but in the light she had carefully previously dimmed you can't possibly tell what it looks like. You don't care. You're distracted by the shadows on her abs and your lips move on their own. Your hand slides below her back, searching. It looks like it's going to be troublesome but you feel the tension of her bra disappear in one swift motion of your fingers, and while taking it off you're wondering if you've teleported to some fictional universe where everything is like in the movies. She mirrors you and throws the black piece of underwear somewhere around. When you lie down your torsos explode. You've never been this close to her before. Not last time. Didn't go this far.
You kiss her. She kisses back. The strange urgency in your gut returns and you feel like you have to kiss her as much as you can, while you can, because if you don't you'll yearn for it when it's taken away, the moment will escape and you won't be allowed to do it anymore. Her hands trail down your chest, wander slowly around and end up on your back. A jolt of electricity strikes you, makes you primal and you just want to give in to everything and anything but you remember not to be too rough. She doesn't like rough.
Your lips and tongue travel down her neck and breasts and you kiss them. Was that a moan? You hope so. You move your lips to the other one. Your hands are everywhere and her nails are scratching your back.
Your hair falls from the sides of your face. It gets in between you as you kiss. She giggles.
Your eyes open with a question mark and she's still grinning.
"Hair. Hair everywhere."
You know the exact part in the drawer below the TV where Maura has a full arsenal of headbands and you jump for it.
Seconds later your eyes drop to the gorgeous, now fully naked laying form. Your heartbeat echoes like a drum-roll in your head.
She's so quick tonight, you think. You try to recall how much alcohol she's had but your brain isn't sober enough either, and you can't recall, let alone compute. Most importantly, you don't care. Just live in the moment, Jane, just live in the moment.
You lie down alongside her, propped on your hand as the other one traces down her torso.
Maura...
You meet her eyes and you hope she understands you. It's not an explanation request cause you don't need it. Not a permission request cause you know you already have it. It's different. Are you sure.
Her hand grabs the one you have lying on her abs and as an answer to your unspoken question slides it lower on her body. You reach her. You gasp.
Ohmygo...
You're lost in the moans that both of you let out and you close your mouth around hers as if you're trying to capture her breath.
She's slippery and silky and her head is thrown back.
"You're so wet." Like an inquiry, not to her, but to the universe. A request for confirmation that this is happening. That you're really there, with her, doing that.
You don't have any control over your body, and your fingers listen to themselves only.
You slide in.