The detention suite wasn't as bad as he thought; of course, despite the name, it wasn't all petals and flowers, but it wasn't the chamber of torture he was waiting as well- something that, he was sure, Abbott would have loved to provide. The federal agent wasn't a torturer, but Jane could already foresee how things were going to play out. It wasn't going to be like with his previous bosses at the CBI- with maybe the exception of Hightower. He could see Abbott playing the role that had once belonged to Teresa Lisbon alone. Ah. His new handler. That was going to be fun, he had no doubts. After all, he guessed that all his requests- or at least the majority of them- were going to be accepted. The FBI, Abbott's bosses, and not the man himself, were that desperate to want him back. And if they really wanted him back… they were going to do as he wanted. They couldn't even risk a trial. He would get jail, but the jury's sympathy as well, and some clemency. 20 years to live, with just one prior? He guessed not.
Ah. And Lisbon thought he couldn't use the same trick twice. Over twelve years, and still she didn't know better.
Just few minutes, and the door opened, revealing in the doorway Agent Fisher- Kim- and two other business-like men; both dressed in pristine clothes, one was wearing an expensive suit, the other, although elegant, screamed state employee from miles apart. He also screamed young and a bit inexperienced DA, while the other… who the hell was that charming, smug and arrogant, Armani dressed guy? Some CIA agent come to torture him? Uhm. He was still a bit rusty, if he couldn't figure him out fully. Guessed that isolation and lack of communication hadn't been that good for his skills, after all.
"Mr. Jane" The FBI Agent greeted him, with a polite smile filled with arrogance. The woman. She had really tricked him. but if she thought he had fallen that much for her, she was wrong. there was a reason he had asked for Lisbon and Lisbon alone. If they wanted to give him a team, so be it, but Lisbon had to be there as well. He was going to be partnered with her alone, and "Kim" had to learn to live with it.
"Well, hello Agent Fisher." He didn't even try to hide his annoyance; he slurred her name, hissed it like it was poison. He appreciated a good con, liked to see there was still people who could outsmart him, but being fooled was another thing. And being fooled by a pretty brunette… well, Abbott had just been mean. "What can I do for you and your kind friends today?"
Fisher dropped her briefcase on the small metallic table, and gestured to Jane to sit; he did, but not on the table, preferring to stay on the bed (it was quite a nice bed. More comfortable than the one he had made in the attic back in California). The state-issued shy guy sat at Fisher's side, while the other man joined Jane on the bed.
"Mr. Jane, allow me to introduce you to ADA Carter and this is your lawyer, Mr. Sebastian Stark." Jane turned to give a look at the guy. The man couldn't be a state-issued defense attorney. He screamed money from miles apart. Fisher noticed the side-looks Jane was sending the other man, and felt the need to intrude. "they are both requested to be present as you sign your deal."
Jane shook his head, he didn't even care about remembering them that her had already signed a deal, and wasn't interested in getting another one- especially not the five years curse Abbott wanted to inflict upon him. "I am not interested. I already told you what my terms are. If not… I think my lawyer and me will risk a trial." He snorted, full of arrogance. He had never been more serious in his life- not even when he kept telling Lisbon he was going to kill Red John.
"A napkin, Mr. Jane" she said, giving him the six copies of the agreement he had had Abbot sign "is not legally bounding. Especially on foreign soil."
"Oh well. Silly me, to thought that a signed contract was a signed contract all over the world." Fisher took a big breath and took some papers from her briefcase, and Jane smirked. He could see why Abbott had sent her- she looked a bit like Lisbon. Especially now, all frustrated with him. "that's a version of your agreement my superiors and the DA had agreed on."
He took the papers and read them; it wasn't exactly what he had asked for, but he could work with it. BUT he wanted for dear Kim to believe he had to think about it first, so he took his sweet time reading the thing over and over and over again. "I don't see mentions of the trailer or the tea. Nor of the couch."
That was when Stark joined in the conversation. "Mr. Jane, as your lawyer, I suggest you take in consideration this deal. It's pretty good, and on some level, even better than what you asked. Agent Abbott wanted for you to work for free, but with this new deal, you just accept to work for them for five years. In exchange of money. Why would they provide for you, as you'll be able to do it on your own. Also, as your record will be cleared, we'll get to unfreeze your assets- money, cars, land, everything."
Jane had to agree. It was a good deal, and he could work with five years as a consultant travelling the country. The couch and the tea, even the trailer, he could do without, but there is one thing that wasn't mentioned, and it was the only non-negotiable voice. The first thing he had asked for. "I don't see mentions of Teresa Lisbon being my partner here."
Fisher took a big breath and closed her eyes. "It's the last voice" she explained him like he was a five years old. Oh, yes, working with Fisher was going to be fun.
"Yes, I see it, but I also see that it says, as I am quoting here, Provided Miss Teresa Anne Lisbon (Chicago, 5/15/1973)acceptance. That, I don't like. It's Lisbon, or prison."
Fisher smiled, trying to get ion his head. She wondered what role Teresa Lisbon played in Jane's life. Her boss kept addressing the two of them as "boyfriend and girlfriend" and he had written over 100 letters to the woman that they knew of. Now he seemed to have come back for her and her alone; did he actually listen to what she said on her last day on the island, when she told him that sometimes, to came back is to move on?
"Jane…" she paused, for effect, interlacing her fingers. "We're the FBI. We can't normally force people to work for us. And Miss Lisbon works for The Sheriff Department. We can't just turn her into an FBI agent. But – she paused again for emphasis- if she accepts, we'll hire her under the same terms we did you. Five years employment, your same salary, traveling expenses, medical and dental. We'll also provide housing until she'll not be able to find something suitable for her necessities."
"Well, then I guess it's up to me to talk Lisbon into accepting to work with me…" Jane shrugged his shoulders, and without thinking twice, he took Stark's pen and signed all the copies of the document, hoping against hope that they were all the same and he didn't agree on something crazy . "So, can I go now?"
Fisher chuckled, looking at the perfect signatures, elegant and stylish. They seemed to belong to an upper-class that went to some prestigious school, not to a guy who had been home-schooled, best case scenario, his whole life. Patrick Jane was really something- there was no doubt there was more than it met the eyes when the man was concerned. If she didn't get it on the island… she did now.
"By all means, you are free to go. I am sure your lawyer will be happy to escort you to your temporary residence." She smiled- a smile that screamed she was already fed up with him- and then left the room, leaving Jane and Stark behind.
"My lawyer, uh?" Jane asked, chuckling. He had the impression to know who had hired the guy. "Funny thing, I don't remember hiring you." They left the cell, and walked outside, toward a sport car. Jane whistled- it was what once he had loved with a passion, and what Teresa still craved, a flashy sport car that knew what speed was. "Nice ride."
"Thanks, and by the way, Teresa hired me." smiling, Stark underlined the cop's given name, and Jane wasn't sure he liked it so much. This man- this lawyer- knew Lisbon, and seemed affected by her on some level. The real question was, did Lisbon feel the same? A long time before, he had known she had been in love with him, but now, two years later, could he still say the same? She still seemed affected like his presence, if her embrace and her smile- and her glossy eyes- meant anything, but after all, they had never made any promises. He had never asked her to wait for him, and she had had no reason whatsoever to. If she had slept with Stark… if she was sleeping with Stark, he couldn't blame her. she had moved on- it was, after all, what she had always asked him to do. It was only right she had followed her own suggestion.
"When, two years ago, the Blake Association fell, I was working as an assistant district attorney in Los Angeles. Later in the investigation, it was discovered that my boss and a couple of my co-workers were involved in the conspiracy." Stark paused, looking at the road ahead, his mouth a straight line of rage and disgust, and maybe regret. "What happened to the CBI, happened as well to the Los Angeles DA's office. Every single one of us was suspended, investigated and later fired because the government just couldn't take the risk."
"So, that's how you met Lisbon. The two of you shared the same fate."
Stark didn't need to ask Jane what he meant with his words, and since he had met Lisbon two years prior, he had gotten to know the man well enough to understand that it was in his interested clarify things asap. Jane could be vengeful- and as he had once said, death was merciful, vengeance, not so much. "I'm quite… fond of Teresa" he said, lacking a better word. "But I'm not interested. Don't get me wrong" he continued, gesticulating like to defend himself. "She is a beautiful woman, but I have troubles enough with my adolescent daughter, my ex-wife who keeps getting married and then comes back to me crying when she has eventually to divorce because her last husband has been cheating on her, my girlfriend- yes, I am over fifty years old and I call her my girlfriend- and one of my ex bosses-turned partner, who happens to be a woman as well."
"Hands full, uh?" Jane chuckled. The man wasn't half bad. He guessed her could live with a lawyer like that. "Ehy, out of curiosity, where are we going?" If Lisbon had been there, Jane was sure she would have rolled her eyes. It was typical him, skipping the most important questions just to ask them when there was no reason whatsoever to ask them at all. Like now- Stark has stopped the car right before an hotel, was there really any reason to ask him where were they?
"That, Mister Jane, is the hotel where you will reside for the time being, a gently offering by our friends at the FBI. I am already working on defrosting your accounts, so I'd suggest to avoid buying yourself a mansion with off-shore secret counts if you don't want your deal to end up in the sewers."
Jane rolled his eyes, lightly frustrated. He didn't get why people didn't understand the simplest thing: his deal had nothing to do with himself. He couldn't care any less about his own life- if Lisbon wasn't in there. It was all about her, and as much as he hated to admit it… Fisher had been right. Sometimes, to move on, you had to come back. And that was what he had done. He had returned to the States hoping to get the chance of having a life with her.
"Teresa is in room 1216. God- he said, talking more between himself than with Jane. she must have such a great view of Pennybacker bridge from her room. Anyway, your room's number is…"
"No need to, Sebastian" Jane answered, very cheerful, his back to the lawyer, already strolling into magnificent the hotel – the FBI did know how to treat its employees. "I'm not planning to spend the night alone!"
Sebastian sighed and went back in his car. He seriously hoped that Jane was talking about spending the night with Teresa. God only knew if his friend didn't deserve to get the man of her dreams, finally…
Jane wasn't exactly happy that he had to meet Teresa with these old, smelly and crumpled clothes. Maybe he should have listened to Sebastian, and at least take a shower in his own room- he hadn't seen water since a couple of days before leaving the Island, after all – but who knew. If he was going to be lucky, he was going to shower in Teresa's room- with Teresa herself.
Teresa. He felt good to call her like that. She had been Lisbon for so long, but only as a way to protect his heart. Until she was "only" Lisbon, he could still believe that she was only his boss, a mean to an end in his battle to get… him. He shivered thinking about the decade-long hunt, about the two years spent between the nice people from the Island, and yet in complete solitude. He had always, only fooled himself. There had never been any difference between Teresa and Lisbon. She had always been the one he craved. He should have listened to his subconscious when, masquerading as a grown-up Charlotte, it told him to let it go and move on with her. But he had been too scared, too obsessed with vengeance and feared too much for her. Red John had touched her too many times, he was already too close for comfort.
But now… now it was different. No more secrets and lies, no more (well, almost) manipulations. They would just get to stop the bad guys, together, without the threatening shadow of a mad and obsessed serial killer towering over them. But that, that was only going to happen if she decided to accept the FBI proposal to join him as a consultant. Well, he smirked, knocking at her door, he knew few ways to get her to agree to stay with him. He would get her addicted- it was mean, but he was a charming and handsome man, and he knew how to play his cards, knew how to play any woman's instrument, reading every desire and thought before she could actually finishing thinking them.
"What?" Lisbon opened the door half-asleep, her eyes still semi-closed, her dark hair like a curtain in front of them. Jane chuckled, and barely resisted the desire to whistle as the wolf in the cartoons he used to look at when he was a kid, since she was there dressed with only one of her jerseys. Just like old times. But there was a big difference: in the past, when he had looked at her with a jersey, he had craved her, but done nothing about it. now, he was going to unleash the beast in him. He didn't say a word, though, just leaned against the door and waited for her to understand who it was and what he was doing there. and she did- she gasped, and with an hand she moved her hair back, revealing two huge emeralds for him to see only.
"Jane?" she looked around, and grabbed him for the jacket, forcing him in, not even thinking about the fact that she was wearing only lingerie and a jersey that barely covered her ass. Well, he guessed she wasn't giving him free access to her room because she couldn't wait to have him naked on top of her, but he could with it. it was as good a start as any, after all. "What are you doing here? Did you escape custody?"
He tsk-tsked her, looking around for her bed, and once sat there, he patted the comfy surface, motioning her to join him there. She did, and kept in silence, blushing when she sat and the jersey rode up, reveling a sexy vision of black lace underneath. She tried to move away from Jane, put some space between them despite the desire to just get closer and closer, to feel him there after two long years. But she was just so, so scared. What was he planning? And wasn't it too good to be true? There had always been something between them- and in the same way, there had always been something getting between the two of them. A long time ago it had been Red John, then, his escape, and the pending accusations on his head. Now, what? Now he could be a free man- free from Red John, free from the crimes he had committed- but it couldn't be that easy. Something was going to happen, sooner rather than later, and she had a feeling that this something was called Special Agent Kim Fisher.
"I'm a free man, Lisbon. What I wanted, the FBI gave me. now, there is only one last thing to see, before deciding if I'll be a free man or I'll agree to spend my life in prison." He got closer and closer, his right hand curling around her hip, forcing her against his side. He inhaled her scent like he was an animal ready to devour its prey, and then, whispered sensually in her hear the remaining of the sentence. "Are you going to stay, sweetheart? Be my partner?" he paused, and bit her lobe. "…My Mate?"
She gasped at the words, at the contact of his mouth leaving what was going to be a murderous hickey on her neck, but it wasn't just that. She groaned, her nipples getting hard, she fisted her hands in the soft and expensive fabric of the bed-covers, but for a whole other reason. It was his sensual attack, everything he was doing. His presence- how he felt bigger than life, than anything she had ever felt before, but mostly, to drive her crazy, it was the assault of his free hand.
Oh, that hand. What it was doing… what he was doing with it, and to her! things she had only dreamt about, that she had never thought he would try with her. she was so plain, so.. such a cop, that she had never believed it possible back then. Then, after he left… this had been her favorite fantasy, it was a beautiful dream and sheer torture at the same time. The best do-it-yourself orgasms of her life, and the worst as well; every time she imagined his finger in her, his mouth claiming her nipples while he masturbated her, she felt alive, a sex goddess, but then, afterward, she was always devastated, because it was just a thing in her mind, never meant to happen. And yet… here he was. Doing to her the very things she had always desired to feel and get from him.
She shivered when his hand traveled underneath the jersey, lifting it furthermore; he caressed the smooth skin of her stomach, his fingertips so sensual and delicate that it felt like a caress, like they were dancing on her, every touch was like liquid fire lapping at her sex. She had closed her eyes, couldn't see him, but she knew he was grinning. She heard him chuckle at a certain point; was he inhaling her scent, realizing how wet she was? "Do you know what I am thinking, Teresa?" She sighed, her eyes closed, and shook her head. It was crazy, she was half-away to orgasm, and he hadn't touched her sex yet. "I think I want to make you come. Then, I want to slip deep inside you- deeper than any other man ever did, so deep I'll fuck your womb- and I'll make you come again, spraying your insides with my juice." He paused, grinning against the skin of her neck when he realized her breathing had accelerated, so turned on she was by his sexy talk in his luscious bedroom voice. "I think I want to hear you screaming my name while you come. "
She gasped, and her eyes went huge, she left out a breath she didn't know she was holding as her panties got wetter than ever. She wasn't simply aroused, and she couldn't believe it, but just listening to him had her came. God, he was a magician, the greatest expert of sex on the whole planet. And he was hers. She would do anything, but right now… right now she needed, wanted to come again, this time for real, this time with his touch. She wanted those fingers in her, fast!
"Jane…" she begged, and he smirked yet again. He shushed her, getting what she wanted. And he got ready to do as she pleased. Make her every wish coming true. everything, anything to keep her, have her at his side.
He eased his hand down her stomach and cupped the wet, soaked fabric covering her core. He stroked her through the lace, and lowered his head to her jersey, biting a nipple through the material. She arched up and gasped, but it wasn't enough. He had told her, after all: he wanted her to cry his name while she came.
Giving up any teasing, he dragged her panties down and slipped one finger in her wet channel. He didn't need to lube it himself, she was so, so wet it wasn't any problem. He could have easily fucked her, even with his size- he couldn't wait for that to happen. He felt for her clit, hard and eager, and when he brushed it, she groaned. He lifted his eyes and stared at her, searching for pain, but he didn't find any. She was.. it was just too much. He smirked, full of himself, smug and arrogant as never before. Looked like his boss-lady hadn't gotten close and person with anyone since he had left. She was so close, he could feel her approaching orgasm, her walls tightening around his thrusting finger. But it wasn't enough. Not yet.
He touched her clit again, and she threw her head back, and opened her legs furthermore for this sensual attack, and pressed against his hand, hard; she wanted to come so badly, and he knew that just a small adjustment of his finger, a movement of his wrist, would have her squirming in his arms, but he didn't want easy. So, instead of concentrating on her clit, he added another finger, and he penetrated her pussy with them, stretching her tiny opening.
"Mmm…" she purred. "that feels good…"
He rubbed the heel of his hand into her clit, and her mouth opened in a sigh. He curled his two fingers up in her, and looked at her face in awe; he pressed against her body, fucked her tiny entrance with his hand, and he felt it, subtle, her G-Spot; he pressed his fingertips against it, rubbed her clit at the same time. Her eyes popped open, and she kept sighing, again and again, like a chant, and he kept doing it, again and again and again, sheer torture and unthinkable pleasure at the same time. She grabbed his wrist and took his there, pressed him hard against her body. "Don't stop.." she sighed, plead. Her fingernails dig in his skin, marked him with half-moon incisions, and the small pain did nothing but excite him furthermore. His, she was fucking his, and he was going to show her now. He wanted so bad inside her, his cock was so filled with blood it was hurting, but not now. Not yet.
"Oh God…" Then, she whimpered, and suddenly she was crying out his name, she was shaking, her hips bucking against his hand as she came. "Oh, Jane…" he waited until her last sob had passed before leaving the oven that was her sex; she turned to look at him, still panting, and he moved the hand that had been on her hip to cup her ass. it was a generous ass- not too big, just curvy, real. He sighed as well, his eyes dark and with a far-away look, as he envisioned screwing her from behind, looking at that same ass tensing as he thrust in and out of her. Spilling his rich cream on her behind, rubbing it everywhere. Offering her his hands to lick clean.
"More?" he asked, and she just meowed at closed eyes, sighing in contentment. He stood, and undressed as quickly as possible, Teresa doing the same and at the same time undressing as well. She threw in a corner her clothes, and when she slid off the jersey, he saw that she wasn't wearing any bra, just like he had assumed when he had bit her nipple.
"Nice" she said as he stood at the feet of the bed completely naked, his erection so hard it was touching and slapping against the smooth skin of his stomach. She looked at him with intent, and immediately knew what she wanted to do with him and with such a nice cock.
She joined him, and then went on her knees, her tiny hand trying to circle his cock, but failing. He was so hot, a work of art, and she couldn't stop looking at it, having her fill. She wanted close and person with Mr. Cock. Its plump head, perfect, and his shaft… oh, she was speechless. It was, by far, her favorite cock. The most beautiful one she had ever had.
She stroked him, only once, firmly, and a tiny bead of liquid leaked from the tip. She pressed a small, wet kiss to the spot, just as she glanced up to see his face, and he was serious and in complete control. She licked the underside of his cock just to see what kind of reaction he was going to have , and he gasped a little. it was enough for her; she smiled and licked again, again and again and again, she couldn't have enough of it. she was addicted to his taste, clean and masculine and a bit… bitter. Like non-sweetened tea.
"Reese…" he breathed. "I just… I wanted to make you feel… good. it was supposed to be… about…." He sighed, his eyes closed in bliss. "…you."
It was her time to shush him, her words vibrating against him. "this is for me…"
She wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft, taking it slow, building up, pressing tiny kisses at first, then lingering ones, letting him feel the moisture of her lips. Then, she slid her mouth over him, pressing her tongue to the underside of his head. His taste settled again in her, making her hum in pleasure. Soap, ocean, tea and sex combined all together, and when she sucked, salt touched her tongue. She eased him deeper, aware of how thick he was, how impossible it was going to be for her to really deep-throat him. her clit felt painfully hard as she took as much as she could of him before easing back. She took him deep again, letting him push roughly against her tongue. She pulled back again, and stroked him with her fist at the same time. He gasped at the use in tandem of hand and mouth.
"Christ…" he grunted. His hands were open, hovering near her head as he wanted to get an hold of it and just fuck ruthlessly her mouth. She closed her eyes and let herself felt everything, his tension, his hardness, the way he seemed to get thicker with each pull of her mouth. This was the only thing she had always wanted to give him- love and pleasure. She wanted the pure blankness of it, wanted it to go on forever. She took him over and over again, loving every minute of it. she lost herself in every stroke, forget how much she craved to have him inside her, covering her womb with his rich juice. She just kept taking him in her mouth, as deep as she could manage.
"Reese…" he breathed after long minutes of silence.. she knew what he was going to say. she could taste it on the tip of her tongue. "stop… I can't…"
But she didn't want to stop. Because his hand was finally-finally!- in her hair, urging her to stay still or take more, she didn't know, nor it mattered. She tightened her fist around him, quickened the slide of her mouth, and felt his hand slip toward the back of her skull. His breath hissed between his teeth, then he groaned and jerked as his come flooded her throat. Then, he collapsed on the bed, his body warm and weak. She followed him, chuckling softly, pressing against his side, and he turned to look at her, his weight on his right arm. "You know, I haven't planned to have my first orgasm with the real you during the most amazing blowjob of my life…" he chuckled.
"Oh, really?" she sighed, and as she went to kiss his neck and bit the tender skin there, she took hold of his cock. She felt the bear scratching her skin, but she didn't care. Abbott already called Jane her boyfriend. He wasn't going to say anything, or judge. "Mmm.. I like the beard. One day, you'll have to make me come with your mouth. I want to feel your beard scratching my thighs, leaving abrasions against my sex as you fuck me with your tongue…"
Jane closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. He wanted to remember everything about this. her voice, her touch, how she was in bed. He had come to her room thinking he was going to have to try to win her over, but Lisbon was a witch between the sheets. It was either a spell or, as blasphemous as it was, a miracle: he was getting hard again.
"Lisbon…" he sighed, trying to find the strength to talk. There were things they needed to discuss now, before it was too late, before he turned into a complete caveman and just fucked her then and there without thinking about the consequences of their actions. "Reese.. I need to know… if… do I have to… do you want me…" God. She was doing such a magical thing with her stroking hand, he can barely remember how he was supposed to talk. It was just a good thing she knew him so, so well- and now, she knew him even better, up and personal.
She purred. "Mmm… that's not up to me, Patrick" she purred his name, biting his lobe, making him gasp. "I am clean, and on the pill. And you, Patrick? Have you been a bad boy? or did you behave, and now you'll be granted the pleasure of fucking me without any barrier, spilling your seed in my womb?"
"I am.." he hasped as she tightened her grip on him. "I never… I am…" he groaned, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. "Good. clean. No sex. You. Only my hands and your wet dream." It was the only thing he could say- he couldn't add much more, talking was too hard. And right now, overrated. She purred in response, glad she was going to try lovemaking with him for the first time without a plastic barrier between their bodies. Just them-heat and passion and sweat and their juices.
"But…" she sighed, her lips leaving a trail of wet open-mouth kisses on the kin of her neck. Her breath was cold and made his shiver, all hairs on his body stood to attention. Her free hand went in his curls, and she started to explore the texture, gently, and yet probing, running her fingers through the soft gold. They both sighed- for over two years, Teresa had read his letters in front of her fireplace, with the mere consolation of a glass of red wine and her fingers, she had read them again and again, sometimes thinking about nights of pleasure, sometimes lulled to sleep by the image of the two of them hugging at the sunset. And his hair, for some strange reason, had been featured in all her fantasies. She always thought about massaging his scalp, discovering if his curls were as baby soft as they looked like. And now, now she knew. Like she knew he purred and sighed when she massaged him there. it was such a small thing, and yet, it seemed to have a powerful impact on him. he seemed like a baby, and if they hadn't been both stark naked, if her other hand hadn't been busy pleasuring his cock and learn the texture of his sex attributes, it would have been caste.
Nut right now, she was discovering that there wasn't anything caste about them any longer. Red John's death, the two years apart, and now meeting again- and his request to be partnered with her and her alone had broken something, unleashed something she had never thought was there to begin with. There was nothing shy, sweet and slow-first time about them. they were beasts in heat, animals unleashed, passionate with the need and desire to use sex as a mean to get back their lives, a reaffirmation of life itself.
"But there is something I want you to do for me, before you'll get to fuck me… Patrick." She kept underlining his given name, whispering it with a sensual note, breathing it out like a sexual hiss. And he loved it. loved that she called him by his given name in bed. Loved that she couldn't stop saying it. it was even better than having her calling him Jane while coming.
"Kiss me." she ordered. And he followed her wish. He hadn't kissed a woman since Lorelai, but it had been different. Red John's minions had requested it, and he had granted her to get what he wanted. Now it was different. He didn't want anything in return-because as soon as she had asked for his lips on hers, he knew that it was what he craved as well.
His hand reached for her, and when his fingers touched her cheek they both felt like a sparkle; it was so much more than the mere sex, it was a connection that they had both felt, and feared, from day one, something they had denied each other for too long. But not now, not any longer. They had pretended to be less, something different, since they had met, so much was always coming between them. he had been a consultant to her unit, she had been his boss. Then, despite everything, as closer as they could get, they became Jane and Lisbon- but it was all that there was. No more, no less. It wasn't possible. But now, an ocean was before them, an infinite space, filled with love and pleasure like they had never felt before. Finally.
He moved his body impossibly closer to her, shrinking the space between their heated bodies. She shivered, as hot as she felt, burning with liquid fire running through her veins, gathering in her core. She felt the premise of his sinful and love-filled kisses, and something moved in her, a spark of desire impossible to contain. She got wetter and wetter, gasping at the sight of Jane's smiling lips getting closer and closer. The breath died in her throat, and she tried to resist the desire to rub against him like a sensual kitty. She closed her eyes because she wanted to remember all the sensations, wanted to know exactly how she felt and not being distract by his Ocean Green eyes, smiling mischievously at her. she felt him, his touch against her skin, and her nerves danced, the breath caught in her throat. She stilled when she felt his breath on her mouth; for everything they had done together since he entered her room, that was the most intimate, and important, thing they could do. This kiss was going to have meaning, be filled with promises not only sensual, but of a life filled with their love with each other. No more lies, no more pain. Nothing between them, if not their love.
She stilled, and made Jane do all the work; his lips touched hers, and she didn't know if she was supposed to moan out of pleasure or giggle when his beard ticked and scratched in such a sensual way the skin on her face; tomorrow, everybody would know what had happened, but she didn't care. he was hers- and that was all that mattered. All that they needed to know.
His fingers spread along her jaw and titled her head just enough that their mouths fit perfectly together. She sighed, and her lips parted, and then she tasted him. it wasn't sweet, but angry, rough, deep. It wasn't because he-they-wanted the sex. It was a kiss filled with years and year of pent-up frustration; she matched it with her own anger and frustration, pressing into his mouth, tasting him as he slid his tongue along hers. Both his hands were around her waist now, holding Teresa against himself as he devoured her, rocking his hips against hers. She felt him hard and big, and she was lost. Her mind spiraled out of control, in a place of pure bliss. All she knew was the way his tongue slide over hers, his fingers pressed in her flesh, the way his beard scratched the tender and baby-soft skin of her cheeks… she turned her face away, overcame by the onslaught of sensations, and he slid his mouth to her neck and sucked and kissed there.
"Patrick…I…" Jesus. It felt so good. especially when she thought of him moving his mouth lower and lower, sucking the whole way, his beard scratching the skin of her abdomen. "…now.." she gasped as she felt a single finger teasing her entrance, testing her wetness. She was so ready… had been so since she had first seen him in the FBI office.
"Yes…" he answered against her throat. He lowered his head once again, taking a luscious nipple in his mouth. She gasped when he did so, the sensations dancing all the way to her core, and the desperation in that sound made him even rougher. He bit her, scraping his teeth over her nipple as he sucked, and she cried out with a sound between pleasure and pain. He licked gently to soothe her, then bit again, loving the way his name broke in her throat. He then gave the same attention to the other breast, until she sobbed his name. Teresa twisted her hands in his hair, and made their mouths collide for a wet, deep kiss that left them both on their knees. And then, finally… she pushed him down all the way, his back against the cool mattress of her bed. She went on top, and pressed her sex against his cock with torturous force, leaking moisture against her wetness, priming them for their impeding mating. She kissed him again, but she gave him her tongue only for the briefest moment, then she rose up, full of grace and power, like a pagan goddess from a lost and forgotten time. She settled her weight against him, smiling, and then rocked her hips. She slide over him, her eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as a sigh escaped her mouth. But if she was content with it, Jane wasn't; it was too much, and too little as well. He needed in her, her mouth or her pussy it didn't matter, just inside her powerful, sensual body.
He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her, and for the surprise she gasped, but smiling, she got it. she spread her legs, and he growled. That was what he wanted. He pulled her hips higher, "Watch me… watch us, Reese" he ordered. She did as he asked, coming up on her elbows so they could both watch as he pressed the head of his cock into her.
"Oh" she breathed, her stomach sucking as she took a deep breath. He moved slowly, watching as her pussy stretched to accommodate his giant width. Her dark hair glistened with their combined moistures. She made a small sound as he pushed farther, and Jane looked up to find her mouth open, gasping for air. Her cheekbones stood out against her flushed skin.
"More" he said, pulling back a fraction of an inch before surging deep.
"Oh, God," she cried, her back bowing, thrusting her breasts high. She felt out of her body, like she didn't have any bones left in her; Jane could feel it too, knew exactly what was going on in the mind and body of his beautiful, lovely and loved Teresa, and used the moment to reverse their position; she fell to her back then, and Jane started to fucked her like he meant it. The harder he fucked her the more she seemed to like it, so Jane gave up any idea of subtlety. He tucked one arm behind her knee and spread her wide so he could get even deeper. She was a tight vise around him, as if he were tunneling through her body.
"Jane…" she panted. "Ah, God. Yes, Patrick, yes…"
Yes. Yes, she wanted it hard and rough, and he was still filled with that dark joy and that jealousy and that need to have more of her, now that he was finally allowed to. She was to be his forever and ever. To forget every man she had ever been with. All the ones who had warmed her bed up during those two long years apart. Their bodies slapped together as he pulled her leg higher and thrust hard and fast. When Teresa reached a hand down to rub her clit, Jane slowed so he could watch, but he kept a steady rhythm, watching as his shaft worked in and out of her and her fingers desperately circled her clit. Her muscles squeezed him tighter.
"Just…" she whispered. "Just a little more. Please. Just…" One second, he told himself as his blood surged hard into his dick. Just one second and he could—
"Oh, God," she screamed. Her hips surged up to meet his, shaking against him as he thrust, her internals walls clenching painfully his cock. Her nails clawed into his arm, deep enough that he grunted, perfect enough that he felt himself seizing up, and then it all crashed into him and he came in a nearly painful release. The most intense orgasm of his life. It surged over and over until he could hardly breathe, it was so intense that she felt like he was still thrusting in her. he filled her, filled her so much that he kept spilling his seed everywhere, rubbing it between their bodies with his frantic movements.
As his senses began to return, he realized that a bead of sweat was rolling down his jaw, his knees were killing him and his arm burned where Teresa had scratched him. She looked like something beautiful and wild, stretched out, her eyes closed, sweat shimmering against her brow as she panted. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her damp neck. "Hey. You okay?"
"Mmm," she moaned, not moving a muscle. He slid out of her body, wincing at the sensation against his overloaded nerves. He winced again when he forced himself up, his knees screaming at the movement. But every twitch of discomfort was a sweet reminder of what they'd done. He touched the marks he had left on her marble-like skin carefully, but she didn't grimace.
"You really know how to make a guy gloat, you know that?" he smiled. He hadn't had that much fun in a lifetime. And it wasn't just that. It was what it had been mixed with. Love, passion, lust, desire, need and rage and jealousy all together. The greatest aphrodisiac of them all.
She finally opened her eyes. "You deserve to gloat," she said as she cuddled against his side.
"Come on. I'll tuck us in." He said, as he moved his arm past her, and took hold of the bedcover. He lifted the soft and expensive material and covered both their sweated, cooling bodies, and got closer and closer to her. he was limp, but he didn't care as she rubbed against him like a kitty. Right now she didn't want the sex, but the comfort of his presence. The knowledge that he was going to be there in the morning, that she wasn't going to wake up to find him gone, or discover that it had been all just a cruel dream, a trick of her imagination.
"Goodnight, Reese" he whispered as he tucked a strand of dark hair behind her hear. "Goodnight my love." He kissed her forehead an inhaled her scent, committing it to memory. Teresa fell asleep immediately, sighing against the skin of his chest, holding him with her tiny hands, closed in fists like she was a baby. It was sweet and tender, she didn't want to let it go of him. He chuckled and felt his eyes getting teary, so much he was feeling right now.
This was starting anew felt like. This was coming back home felt like- and he guessed he had to thank Fisher for that. The woman was going to get a huge basket next Christmas- and if he was in the mood, maybe a boyfriend as well. She could say as much as she liked she liked being single, but he guessed it was only because it hadn't happened yet. But if he had been lucky enough to be blessed by such a perfect and great love twice in a lifetime, there was no reason to believe Fisher didn't deserve- or had- a perfect match for her. He chuckled again- right now he didn't want to think about his work with the FBI any longer. he just wanted to fill his senses with the warm body in his arms.
And then… then, he inhaled her scent once more, and allowed his head to collapse against the pillow, and cuddling against Teresa he fell asleep- to sleep peacefully and to dream sweet dreams of the two of them in front of her fireplace, naked on his beach, and busy solving crimes like old times, for over eight hours straight.