Title: Shark Porn

Author: ForeverLeyton

Rating: NC-17, obviously

Summary: PWP, I think is what they call it. Imagine a little Rizzoli/Isles role reversal. One shot.

A/N: Unbeta'd (though she did get a sneak peek) because I wasn't going to post this. At all. Then I got a little drunk and figured why the hell not? Hopefully I don't regret it in the morning!

Doctor Maura Isles strode down the hall towards Homicide, enjoying the click-clack of her brand new Bottega Veneta pumps against the utilitarian tiles of the Boston Police Department floor. Living in a world of countless bodies, Maura had taught herself to appreciate the little things. Like the sound of a three-inch heel.

Although, Jane wouldn't consider an $800 pair of shoes a small thing.

No, Jane Rizzoli drowned the horrors of her job in baseball and beer. Not fashion.

Pulling open the door, Maura stepped into the small room that housed Boston's finest murder cops just as Jane pushed back from her desk with a resounding "Yes!"

"Oh," Maura smiled, stepping over to sit on the edge of Jane's desk, long legs immediately crossed in a position that appeared demure but was in reality a deliberate attempt to redirect Jane's obvious enthusiasm.

After all, the detective and the ME had been dating for over a month now. Long enough for Maura to know Jane held a particular fondness for bare legs in high heels. Even if she did like to pretend the heels would be just as sexy at $750 less.

"Does this mean you've solved the Delgado case?" Maura asked, enjoying the way Jane's finely toned triceps clenched and pulled when Jane's hands shot triumphantly above the brunette's head.

"What? No. I mean, yeah, we got the guy. Tweaking meth addict who hangs out by the docks. Booked him before lunch."

"Before lunch?" Maura asked, tilting her head to peer up at Jane. "Then why all this?" She asked, running a finger up and down through the air to encompass Jane's still-victorious stance.

"This?" Jane repeated, pumping her fists once more into the air before dropping her arms and flashing her watch in Maura's face. "This is because it's 5:00. End of shift. Quitting time."

"Since when do you go home at end of shift?" Maura asked, incredulous. But she held up a finger before Jane could respond. "Ah. There's a baseball game on this evening, isn't there?"

"Nope," Jane shook her head. "The Sox play tomorrow." Shuffling papers around her desk, Jane passed a file to the uniformed officer walking by. "Drop this at booking, would ya, Nowitski? I don't have time."

"Don't have time?" Maura asked, now thoroughly confused.

"Nope. Gotta get home. Already got the beer on ice and I'll be picking up take-out on the way. Hey, you want in on the Chinese?"

"Do I—um, no, thank you. I was coming up to tell you I wouldn't be by until later. Martinez has—"

"Shit, the domestic double," Jane replied. She gripped Maura's elbow lightly and steered the doctor towards the hall. Their relationship was well-known around the precinct but neither girl liked to broadcast their quieter moments. "I heard he caught a Mom and daughter set this morning." Jane ran a hand down Maura's arm, linking their fingers lightly. "You ok?"

"I'm…fine," Maura answered, certain Jane would understand that fine didn't mean fine; it meant determined to do her job well. "Martinez is pretty confident the estranged husband is responsible. He asked me to identify the murder weapon as soon as possible so he can get a warrant to search the man's apartment. I was coming to tell you I would be working late; maybe ask if you wanted to share a meal in my office. But you're obviously done for the—"

"Rizzoli?" Barry Frost rushed down the hall, skidding in his polished shoes to avoid crashing into the doc. "It's 5:00."

"No shit," Jane grinned.

"I am outta here," Frost exclaimed, his arms raised in an exact replica of Jane's earlier celebration.

"I'm confused," Maura frowned. "Is today some kind of police holiday? A celebration or…or an anniversary of sorts?"

"Kind of," Jane relented, joining Barry when he laughed.

"Well?" Maura waited for an explanation.

Rather than answer, Jane and Barry turned toward each other, high fived and shouted in perfect unison, "Shark Week!"

"Jane?" Maura called and peeked her head inside Jane's apartment door.

"Living room," Jane called out in reply.

Slipping off her shoes immediately, Maura let the heels dangle from her fingertips. She found Jane sprawled atop the couch, surrounded by half-eaten Chinese cartons and empty beer bottles. Maura leaned down for a kiss, mildly surprised when Jane pushed her lightly away and squirmed to keep her eyes on the television.

"Oh my God! Holy shit!" Jane sat up with such force, she sent Maura's shoes flying off her fingertips in opposite directions. "Maura, did you see that?"

"See what?" Maura asked, glancing at the television.

Jane scrambled for the remote, digging it out from between the couch cushions, and quickly rewound the last scene. "Watch this," she demanded, tugging Maura down next to her on the sofa.

Maura watched, with mild interest, as the camera captured a large Great White shark propelling itself several feet out of the water just before he clamped down violently on a frantic seal. She winced when the shark drug its prey beneath the water, claiming another victory for the strong over the weak. Before she could respond to Jane's exuberance, however, the cell phone lying on the coffee table blared the opening bars to the theme from Dragnet.

Jane paused the television and flipped open the phone. She began without preamble: "Did you see that fucking shark fly out of the water like that? Shit, Frost, that seal never had a chance."

"I'm going to go change clothes," Maura whispered, amused when Jane absently nodded her agreement and waved Maura away. Apparently Jane Rizzoli buried the horrors of her job in baseball, beer and sharks.

When Maura returned in her crisp pajamas, her face scrubbed clean of all make up and her hair pulled back in a casual ponytail, Jane was off the phone and once again laid full-out along the couch. Maura lifted Jane's legs, slipped beneath them and sat down, allowing Jane to curl her feet into Maura's lap.

"I identified the murder weapon in Martinez's double homicide," Maura announced, running her hand lightly up Jane's calf muscle.

"Uh huh," Jane replied, her eyes never leaving the TV.

Glancing at the television herself, Maura watched as a tiger shark banged its head uselessly against a diver's metal cage. "Jane!" Maura exclaimed. "This is the Discovery Channel!"

"Uh. Yeah." Busted Rizzoli. "Why?"

"Last week, when I wanted to watch the special on cosmic collisions, you told me your cable provider didn't carry the Discovery Channel!"

"I—I…" The best defense is a good offense. "Come on, Maur. No way you bought that."

"No," Maura admitted, "but—you're watching the Discovery Channel!"

"No, I'm not," Jane defended. "I'm watching Shark Week!"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't Shark Week air on the Discovery Channel? Or is that D in the corner of your screen a coincidence?"

"It's different," Jane insisted. "You wanted to watch some weird spacey science crap. This is sharks!"

"And sharks are not scientific? They aren't weird?"

"No way," Jane shook her head, digging into a box of lo mein that was cold 2 hours ago. "Sharks are…sharks. They're predators. All cops watch Shark Week, Maur."

"Do you mean to tell me that Vince is at home right now, watching this," she glanced at the screen, "this documentary?"

Jane snorted, "Korsak? 'Course he's watching. Finding killers and animals—its his two favorite things. 2008 he paid Galletti 200 bucks to cover his call because he was on nights. Besides, Shark Week is not a documentary, " Jane whined. "It's Shark. Week."

"Mmmhmm. Look at that shark," Maura began, assuming her best research tone. She tucked her own legs beneath her body and nodded towards the television. "He is hunting with a unique sixth sense that allows him to detect electric fields in the water. Accustomed to clarifying her statements, Maura continued, "Sharks have special sensory organs made up of a series of pores called—"

"The ampullae of Lorenzi, sure," Jane responded casually, leaning forward to turn up the volume.

"Oh." Maura frowned, surprised by Jane's perfect identification of a shark body part. "Yes."

"That's not science," Jane quickly defended. "That's just cool. Like this," she added, pointing towards the screen. "That's a bull shark, male. He has the highest level of testosterone of any animal. More than man, more than an elephant, more than a damn lion."

"I…yes, I know," Maura responded, baffled. "How do you know that?"

"Shark Week, 2007," Jane answered absently.

"I see. Jane, did you consider a career in marine biology as a child?"

"What? No," Jane frowned, confused, before her brow cleared into awe as she watched a lemon shark tear into an artificial seal equipped with a camera. "Look at those teeth!" She exclaimed. Maura shivered slightly when she watched Jane's eyes widen and her nostrils flare. The detective was excited.

"I'm simply surprised by your interest in something so…scientific," Maura admitted, scooting over on the couch to sit closer to Jane's hip. "Normally you find biology boring."

"This isn't biology, Maura," Jane explained again. "It's sharks. The greatest predators on earth. Every cop likes Shark Week. It's…primal."

"Primal," Maura repeated, rolling the word around on her tongue. Leaning over Jane, but being careful not to block Jane's view, Maura added, "You know, I've heard somewhere that watching sharks on TV can be…arousing, to some. Are you…excited by sharks?"

"What?" Jane asked, distracted, shifting away from Maura. "Excited? Sure. Sharks are fucking cool. Look at that lemon shark ram into the cage. That's pretty freaking exciting!"

"Yes, but this show…This show I saw, it implied that viewing sharks could be exciting sexually. Arousing."

"Arousing? Maura, what in the hell—Wait! You're talking about Friends!"

"What?" Maura pulled back, lifting Jane's feet from her lap. "No, I'm not."

"Yeah, sure you are. The one where Chandler watches shark porn. I know that one. Maura Isles: are you a Friends fan?"

"I…I wouldn't say fan," Maura responded primly. "In college I found it very informative. It helped me recognize and catalogue the common social mores of my peers."

"Like shark porn," Jane laughed.

"Well, yes," Maura shrugged. "Although I seem to recall now that the episode involved a classic comedic trick of misidentification and assumption."

"Meaning there was never shark porn. For Chandler or me," Jane grinned.

"I'm not so certain," Maura replied. "You're physical features are displaying the same signals typically indicative of your arousal."

"Yeah?" Jane asked, finding herself distracted by Maura's Google-talk and forgetting about the sharks swarming on her tv. She had no idea why she found Maura's formal conversational style so endearing. "What do you mean?"

"Your eyes widen and your nostrils flare," she began. "This seems particularly obvious when the shark attacks an object."

"That's 'cause shark attacks are cool, Maura."

"What about your nipples?" Maura continued blithely, nodding towards Jane's chest. "They are hard and extended, the way they get when I touch them."

"I…Jesus," Jane sighed, pushing a hand through her hair. "I forget how direct you can be."

"So you are aroused by sharks?"

"What? No! I am aroused," Jane replied, "because your hand has been on my leg since you sat down. I am turned on," she continued, leaning forward to invade Maura's space, "because every time a shark attacks you squeal and your nails dig into my thigh. I am excited because I know when Shark Week is over, I get to take those pajamas off of you and fuck you. All. Night. Long." She punctuated her speech with a kiss on Maura's lips, sucking the doctor's bottom lip between her own and biting down lightly.

When Jane pulled back, Maura trembled and let her hands dig into Jane's thigh again. "Oh," she shuddered.

"Yeah. Oh," Jane agreed, turning back to the TV. "Shark porn," she laughed.

Maura sat there for several moments, trembling, before she realized Jane was once again enthralled by the television screen. When the phone rang again and Frost called to rehash the latest Great White vs. Tuna battle, Maura quietly excused herself and walked into the bedroom. She had a plan.

It was after midnight when Jane stumbled into the bedroom. Shark Week 2011 had ended an hour earlier but they replayed "When Sharks Get Hungry" from 2001 and Jane couldn't look away. She watched the hour long show with Frost prattling in her ear, explaining how he would survive if he was ever stranded in shark infested waters. She had forgotten about Maura, and her promised post-show plans, until a seal safely evaded a shark and made it to shore and Frost had exclaimed, "Damn! This shit is exciting!"

Exciting.

Jane shook her head. Shark porn. Oh Maura. And that was her last coherent thought of the night.

Because when she stepped into the bedroom, Jane found Maura on their bed, her pajamas off and neatly folded on top of the dresser. Instead, she wore only a frilly, silly nightgown of sorts. The fancy lingerie probably had an actual name and most likely cost more than a beat cop's monthly salary, but Jane didn't care about that. All she cared about was the way the midnight blue silk slithered over Maura's curves; the way lace clung to her skim, skimming just over breasts; the way the material rose up in bunches over Maura's hips and thighs so that the ME's bare legs seemed a mile long.

The way Jane's strap on rested between Maura's thighs, the harness pulled tight and low over slim hips.

Jane stood and stared, probably for longer than appropriate, even in this situation. The dichotomy between Maura's oh-so-girly lingerie and the black leather and chrome slung across her hips had Jane frozen in place. It was…hot, Jane realized. Sexy, fucking, badass, hot.

But she couldn't say that. Not to Maura. So instead she pointed and rambled, like anyone else would do. "I…um," she swallowed, hard. "That…Isn't that mine?"

"It is," Maura agreed, her eyes never leaving Jane. Crawling up to her knees, and loving the way Jane shuddered when the phallus hung low between her legs, Maura felt a power she had always known existed but rarely chose to exercise. "I hoped you wouldn't mind me borrowing it. Just this once."

"I…No. Christ, Maura, have you been laying in here, wearing that…that, and waiting for me?"

"Yes."

"Shit," Jane trembled. Should she love that? "Why—Why didn't you come get me? Why didn't you… Why?"

Maura cocked her head to the side and scooted forward on her knees, leaning over the bed to grasp the waistband of Jane's pants and pull the detective forcibly towards her. "Why didn't I come get you? Because it would have ruined my surprise. You are surprised, aren't you, Jane?"

"Yes," Jane shuddered out. She put her hands on Maura's shoulders and fiddled with the thin straps of her negligee. Jane felt out of sorts, all of a sudden. Unsure. While their relationship in the bedroom was delightfully equal, this was new territory for them. Jane was unaccustomed to Maura taking such obvious control of the situation but she wanted—maybe needed—to give the woman her head here. Oh God. Not like that. Except…No. Not like that. Focus, Jane. "I'm surprised," Jane finally replied.

"Good," Maura smiled, reaching up to kiss Jane, her tongue darting into the detective's mouth, swirling through the dark sweetness she found there and moaning when Jane bit down slightly on her tongue. Pulling back, Maura shook her head and sighed, "No."

"No?" Jane asked.

"Not tonight," Maura smiled and she ran a hand, almost wonderingly, down the length of her new toy. When Jane shuddered and groaned, Maura did it again. "I'm in charge tonight."

"You are?"

"Yes," Maura nodded firmly. She deftly began to unbutton Jane's shirt, happy that the detective hadn't changed from her work clothes. She did so love removing the cop's clothing. "When I got here this evening and you were watching the Discovery Channel I was…intrigued," Maura admitted.

"Oh God," Jane laughed, "does that mean the shark porn thing was for you? Are you turned on by sharks Maura?"

Maura giggled delightedly and pulled Jane's shirt over her shoulders and down the long length of her sculptured arms. "Don't make me laugh, Jane," she ordered. "It ruins the image."

Jane used one finger to slip down the length of Maura's shoulder, under soft lace and flicking over a nipple pebbled beneath the cool nightgown. "Trust me, the image is just fine," Jane announced.

"Good," Maura breathed, before continuing. "I was intrigued by the obvious role reversal. You immersed in a scientific study, spouting facts to teach me about biology."

"I told you," Jane repeated, her finger now tracing soft circles around the nipple and occasionally dragging across it with a light scrape of her nail. "Shark Week isn't about science. It's about—"

"Sharks, yes, I know. And predators. Still, Jane, there you were, watching a documentary. It-it didn't fit in the compartment I have built for you," she admitted. "I realized that perhaps I was too tied, too comfortable, in our usual roles. I don't want to ever take you for granted, Jane, or assume things about you." She punctuated her statement with a kiss, soft and worshipful, against Jane's stomach.

"Thanks, I think," Jane smiled. "But how does all of that get you here, wearing my strap on?"

"I started to wonder what other ways I could…well, reverse our roles," Maura admitted. "This seemed the most obvious."

"Maur—"

"Also," she stopped Jane, "it's something I've wanted to do for a long time. Every time you…use this…on me, I wonder what it would be like to do the same to you. So," she took a deep breath and gathered her courage. Unbuckling Jane's belt and undoing her pants, Maura asked, "Will you let me fuck you, Jane?"

"Oh my God," Jane whispered. Maura on her knees wearing a strap on was enough to have Jane wet and desperate but the doctor cursing, asking Jane if she could fuck her, it was enough to make her come.

Taking that as a yes, Maura stepped off the bed and stood tall next to Jane. She pushed both hands over Jane's hips, shoving beneath Jane's pants and pushing the slacks to the ground in a single motion. Before Jane could react to how quickly Maura had her pants down around her ankles, the ME shoved Jane backwards until her knees buckled against the bed and she fell into a sitting position. Maura knelt between Jane's now freed legs and pulled them wider, letting her nails dig into the inside of Jane's thighs when the detective resisted out of reflex.

Leaning forward, Maura kissed the center of Jane's panties, breathing in the heady scent of arousal and enjoying the cool feeling of wetness pooling against her lips. She used her teeth to scrape against the bud that was swollen and peaking between Jane's lips, straining against the damp cotton. She started to pull the panties aside, lost in the taste and texture of Jane, when she felt the detective's hand bury itself in her hair and pull her insistently forward. The sensation was achingly familiar, and for tonight at least, that made it wrong.

So Maura tore herself from between Jane's legs and stood. Forcing her voice into its most commanding tone she ordered Jane, "Kiss me."

Jane, a willing participant in her lover's game, leaned forward to kiss Maura's lips. She grinned when the ME moaned, wondering how long it would take her to top the good doctor, even if Maura was the one wearing the equipment. But it was Jane who got lost in the kiss; Jane who was bewildered and confused when Maura used hands against her shoulders to shove her back and growled "No."

"No?" Jane asked again, aware she was starting to sound like a broken record.

"I didn't say where I wanted you to kiss me."

True.

"Ok. Where?" Jane asked, nervous because she was already prepared to beg. She began to pant when Maura pulled down one side of her negligee, carelessly tearing through expensive silk, to reveal one breast, it's nipple stained dark red with tightened yearning. "Here," Maura commanded. "I want your mouth on me."

Because it felt right, Jane responded, "Yes, Ma'am," before leaning in and taking the nipple into her mouth. She sucked it softly, the way Maura liked, laving it with her tongue. When it hardened even more against her tongue, Jane smiled. She knew what her girl liked.

But she was caught off guard when Maura tugged on her hair and ordered, "Harder. Use your teeth."

After only a moment's hesitation, Jane complied and scraped her teeth over Maura's nipple. Reaching up with her hand, she squeezed the other breast with her whole palm, roughly tweaking the nipple with her thumb. When Maura cried out and pushed her breasts more fully in Jane's face, Jane began to suck at the nipple, hard, insistent tugs that she knew bordered on pain. With her fingers she mimicked the feeling on Maura's other breast, tugging and squeezing the nipple and wondering whether it would bruise. She was on the verge of pulling the doctor into her lap, forcing the woman to straddle her when Maura demanded, "Stop."

"Stop?" Jane whined, allowing the nipple to pop out of her mouth. She was playing along with Maura's game, sure, but she hated to be stopped when she was enjoying her lover's body. Flicking the nipple again with her thumb, Jane murmured, "I don't think you want me to stop."

Maura batted her hand away with a surprisingly strong 'smack' and used her own hands to pull Jane's hips further towards the edge of the bed. "I said I was going to fuck you, Jane Rizzoli, not the other way around." Maura again ran a hand down the strap on, lifting it to run the head up and down the length of Jane's folds. "But how do I know you are ready for me?"

"I am," Jane promised, surprised despite herself. It was rare that she wondered what it would feel like to be fucked, rather than fuck, with this toy but now, seeing Maura willing and eager to use it on her, she was overwhelmed with desire to feel the doctor push inside her. "I'm ready."

"How do I know?" Maura asked again. "I don't plan to be gentle, Jane. I don't plan to be nice. I didn't say I wanted to make love. I want to fuck you," she annunciated the word, well aware it turned Jane on to hear her curse. "I'm going to be rough. Hard. Tomorrow when you go to work and you sit at your desk and you talk to suspects, you're going to feel what I did to you between your legs. You're going to wish I was doing it again."

"Fuck me," Jane moaned, caught somewhere between a curse and plea.

"How do I know, Jane?"

Finally catching on, Jane spread her legs wide and cupped a hand over her own mound. She dipped her fingers inside, moaning instantly, but she knew if she made herself come she would ruin Maura's game. So she swiped her fingers inside herself, then up the length of her folds to circle her clit once. When Maura's jaw slackened and her eyes widened, Jane knew she was doing the right thing. Reaching up with fingers wet with her juices, Jane traced them against Maura's lips, rewarded when the ME sucked them into her mouth and licked them clean.

"Mmm," Maura nodded. "You taste ready. Do you feel ready?"

"Yes," Jane nodded, dipping her fingers back inside, pumping them in and out quickly to show Maura how ready she was. "Look how wet I am Maura. Look how much I want to feel you inside me."

Maura reached down with her own hand, pulling Jane's fingers out of the way and plunging two fingers into wet, and yes, ready heat. "Is this what you want," she asked, pumping in the same rhythm Jane had begun. "Do you want my fingers inside you?" She punctuated her question by twisting and scissoring her fingers inside Jane, scraping along sensitive walls.

"N-No," Jane moaned though she would have gladly settled for Maura's fingers in that moment. Still, she knew there was more to come, literally, if she could hold out.

"If you come, I'll stop," Maura announced. "I won't fuck you. I won't let you come again. I won't touch you again tonight." With each word she pushed her fingers deeper inside Jane, challenging the detective to withstand the pleasure. When her thumb pushed hard circles against Jane's clit, twisting in perfect counterpoint to the rhythm of her fingers, Jane's hips lifted off the bed.

"God, Maura, please. Wh-What do I need to do? What do I need to do to get you to fuck me?"

"Tell me. Tell me what you want," Maura demanded, pushing her fingers to the hilt and holding them steady there. Only her thumb continued to move, circling over Jane's clit in rapid movements.

"I…I want you. Fuck. I want you to put that thing inside me. Fuck me with it. Hard, Maura. H-hard."

Now it was Maura's turn to tremble. She had started this game to please Jane; to give her something different than their ordinary (and extraordinary) sex. She hadn't expected to be so turned on by this. She hadn't anticipated the way the strap on moved and pushed against her clit, it's base slipping through her arousal to rub her in a most delicious way. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to be inside Jane.

Calling on all of her experience, all of her knowledge of the human body, Maura positioned the strap on quickly. She removed her fingers and pushed into Jane in a single, hard thrust, catching the waiting detective completely off guard and causing her to shout out, her horse voice cracking at the end of her scream.

When Maura was buried fully inside of Jane, standing next to the bed while Jane was spread in wanton invitation before her on the bed, she paused. She lifted Jane's legs from the ground and wrapped them around her waist, thrilled when Jane squeezed tight and pulled Maura even deeper.

Caught up in the moment, Maura smacked the side of Jane's thigh, physically demanding that the detective release her grip. When Jane's legs lightened their pressure around Maura's hips, Maura began to move. Slowly, at first, figuring the toy and its strange sensations out. Then harder, her hips arching back as far as she could pull them before slamming back into Jane with full force.

She heard Jane come almost immediately, crying out into the dark room and screaming Maura's name. She felt, from somewhere else, the way Jane palmed her breast as she came, squeezing the flesh in a painful grip while the doctor continued to pound into her.

It barely mattered to Maura that Jane had already come once. She didn't see the way the detective was panting and spent, her grip on her breast relaxed and her legs slipping back down to the floor. All Maura could think about was how surprisingly good—amazing—this felt. How her hips, of their own accord, wanted to keep pounding and pounding and pounding into Jane until the detective was crying out again. Until the pressure against her own clit released and Maura could come herself.

It was Jane's voice, however, that cut through the fog. The detective didn't ask Maura to stop. Thank God, because Maura wasn't sure she could. Instead Jane begged, "On top of me, Maura." Pulling and clawing at any inch of skin she could reach, Jane tried her best to pull the doctor on top of her on the bed, wanting her lover as close as she could get her. "Maura, I want you on top of me. Fucking me. Pounding into me. I want you on top."

Well, that was certainly new.

Maura nodded, pulling out of Jane and allowing Jane to scoot back on the bed. Crawling on top of Jane's willing body, Maura wasted no time thrusting back inside her. But this time she knew she wanted them to come together. This time it was about both of them, together, rather than each of them, individually.

So she pushed into Jane but when the detective's hand reached around and cupped her ass, Maura didn't complain. Instead she let the detective dictate her pace, which was as hard and strong as Maura would have wanted. Hands pushed and pulled Maura in any direction they wanted, silently begging the doctor to go faster, harder. More. When Jane slid her legs up and bent them at the knees, opening herself completely to Maura, they both went a little insane.

With a strong thrust ramming inside of Jane's body, and the base of the toy pushed hard against her clit, Maura felt her orgasm start at her toes and seem to climb slowly up, covering every inch of her skin. Desperate to take Jane with her, Maura reached down between their bodies and rubbed hard against Jane's clit. She was sure her prediction would come true tomorrow; Jane would feel every twinge and ache between her legs as a reminder of what Maura had done.

She would remember how Maura had pounded into her and roughly fondled her clit and bit down on her shoulder while they both came. She would remember how she had begged her girlfriend to top her and how she had reveled in the feel of Maura's arousal dripping downwards to meet her own. She would remember how Maura had worn her out, pushing until Jane was literally falling asleep beneath Maura with the toy still buried between her legs.

And she would laugh when she remembered the last thing she whispered to Maura, her voice barely recognizable with sex and sleep, before the doctor collapsed on top of her with a muffled groan: "Thank God Shark Week is on again tomorrow. More shark porn."