Hey folks! I always wondered about the intimate details of what occurred between Jack and Kate during their sexual moments in '316'. Judging from his grin and her relaxed disposition the next morning, I take it that it was definitely satisfying for both parties. So, I decided to write a fic about it. Lots of Jate smut ensues! Enjoy!
Kate walked through the door of Jack's penthouse condo, using the key that he gave her months before. The key that he told her to feel free to use anytime she wanted, and now, she not only wanted, but needed to. She didn't see his truck in his usual parking space, so she knew that he wasn't there. The space was dark, cold, as if he hadn't been there for hours, and she wondered where he could be, because she really needed him right now.
She walked into the kitchen, hoping for any remnants of his presence there, but instead she found a clean space that hadn't been utilized in hours, maybe days. The coffee-pot was empty and the liquor cabinet was closed. None of his dishes lie dirty in the sink. Giving up on her quest to estimate how long he'd been out, she walked into his bedroom and sat down on his bed, took her shoes off and then fell back onto the soft, cushy comfort of his bedspread.
Immediately, she smelled his scent, surrounding her, like an aura of security and love. She turned on her side to take in more of it, and all at once, it hit her. The life that she planned to live with him was shattered, falling to pieces, all because he had to go back. Sadness unlike any she's ever felt choked at her, and the streams of tears fell from her eyes, accompanied the sobs of pain ebbing from her lips.
She just gave her son away, to go back, with him. She knew that it was the right thing to do, but there was always this glimmer of hope at the pit of her stomach, that he would come back to them, and that they could be a family again. She wasn't ready to let go of that dream just yet. She wasn't ready for what he was asking her to do, but seeing him side with Ben, it was more than enough to see how desperate he was to leave.
The dream of Claire shook her, made her realize that what she was doing was wrong, that raising Aaron wasn't her job, no matter how much she loved him. The child wasn't hers, he was never meant to be. Jack wasn't hers, not anymore, even though she felt he was meant to be, he couldn't be and it was becoming clear to her that he may never be again.
Jack gave the nurses strict instructors about how to detect and prevent his grandfather's mischievous antics, but no matter how many times he told them what to do and what to look out for, Ray still found a way around it. He was a lost cause for sure, and he loved him just the same.
He hoped into his truck and drove to the nearest watering hole, where a nice drink burning down his throat all the way down felt like the best idea he ever heard. He stopped in front of the place and felt the urge to hear her voice again. That urge never went away really, it was always there, but right now, he needed it more than ever. He took his phone out of his jacket pocket, opened it, pressed a button and her number popped up. Kate Austen, 323-752-2354. He stared at it longingly. The last thing she said to him, 'Don't', as she backed away from him in distrust, slammed her car door and drove away from him rang in his head. She didn't want to hear from him, barely wanted to see him.
With that devastating thought, he slammed the phone closed. He stared over at the bar's front door, and simultaneously turned the key, and pulled off. He needed to refrain from numbing his pain. He willed himself to feel all of it. The hurt he has caused her and himself by leaving her, by having to go back, he needed to feel it, before tomorrow morning, when he had to leave her yet again.
Jack opened the door to his condo and immediately sensed a presence, like he wasn't alone. He simply shrugged it off and went to the kitchen. He poured himself a drink and suddenly heard something distinctly in the darkness of the rest of the space. He moved to inspect the noise, and as he got closer towards his bedroom, he heard a light sniffle. Confused and curious, he walks towards his bedroom where he finds a small figure lying on its side. He moved closer to get a better look, and he saw her staring into space, the trail of her tears shining in the moonlight that cast over her face from the nearby window. Kate.
He hovered over her, asked her what she was doing there, a chronic glare of concern in his eyes. She had to know if he was going back. He confirmed that he was, and she had to let him know that she was coming with him. He asked about Aaron, where he was, but she couldn't let him know what she'd done. Not yet.
She rose, leaning so close to his face that a hint of her breath breezed over his cheek. She told him not to ask questions, to say nothing about Aaron if he truly wanted her to go back with him. He looked as if he was going to say something, to beg her to tell him what has her so upset, but he saw in her eyes that all she truly needed at the moment was sheer, unquestioned compliance. So he agreed to her conditions.
She uttered her thanks and then opened her mouth over his unsuspecting lips. She crushed his lips with her own, over and over again, opening as wide as she could, in the passionate and fervent attempt to swallow his face. She stole the air from his lungs until they burned, crackled. He brought his hands up to cup her face and slow things down a little, but she wasn't interested in slow and steady. She made it clear that this would be hot, hard and damaging.
She tilted her head, slanting her lips over his as she continued to feast on him. Grabbing at the shoulders of his jacket, she tugged it away from him. He helped her in her efforts by shimmying out of it as it dropped to the floor.
She wrapped her fingers into the hair at the back of his head and tugged him into her, falling aimlessly onto the bed, her mouth stealing his breath over and over, as if she planned to drown him with her eagerness. She bit, tugged and nipped at his lips while he fumbled to rise onto his elbows, careful not to squish her. She followed him up, unbuttoning his shirt as she moved her lips over his neck, just below his jaw, sucking hard, determined to leave a mark.
She tore into him, heavily. Biting and sucking at the skin of his neck, all the while being careful of getting too close. It bothered him. He sensed her icy wall the moment she instructed him to never ask about Aaron, and he allowed her to do with him what she wanted for the moment, but he wouldn't allow her to hide, because he knew that she knew that it didn't work that way, not with them. It would mean something beyond their control. It always did and it always would.
His dress shirt finally fell off of him as she pushed it away while grabbing at his undershirt and pulling it from his slacks and over his head. She continued to be rough and brazen, almost possessed. She clawed at his exposed flesh with her blunt fingernails. A thin red line from the center of his chest to his collarbone soon formed once he sat up on his knees, bare-chested in the moonlight. He sensed her apology before she had the chance to say it. He whispered that he was okay as he bent back over her reclined frame, his knees on either side of her. She felt so safe under his watchful gaze and aroused frame, watching as the crotch of his slacks grew tighter in response to her.
He met her eyes, only to watch as she quickly diverted her gaze elsewhere, evading his attempt to cosmically communicate with her. A look between them said everything and she knew that all she had to do was truly look at him and this frenzied distraction she was engaging in with him would turn into so much more.
He knew how to break her, and while he no longer had a right to any emotion on her part, he felt entitled to something more than just sex, because she did come to him after all.
Frustrated with his thriving attempts to connect with her beyond physical desire, she urged him to lie on his back. She soon straddled his stomach as she pulled her shirt up and over her head. She pulled her pants away in one swift motion, and he became mesmerized by the sight in front of him. The woman he loved more than anything in the world, wearing nothing but her bra and panties, lips swollen from his kisses, her long curls tousled about her pretty face, her skin blushing as his eyes languishly traveled from her eyes to the tips of her toes.
He met her eyes again and for the first time since she started kissing him, she locked his gaze. His breath caught in his throat as he watched her, and he finally released it when he saw a single tear trickle down her cheek, then another and another.
He sat up and brought her closer, his hands cupping her face, his eyes never leaving hers.
"I'm so sorry Kate" he whispered, wiping her tears away with his thumbs.
He didn't have to elaborate, because she already knew what he meant. He was sorry for leaving her, sorry about Aaron and sorry for having to go back. She saw it all in the sad glint of his eyes, and it was almost enough to make everything okay again. He wasn't just sad, he was sad for her. She shook off the emotions bubbling to the surface and moved against the hands bracketing her face to devour his mouth again; her sole interest lied in kissing him senseless. This was all she had left to give. She needed him to take it.
She attached his belt buckle while he unclasped her bra and gently slid the straps from her shoulders. He rose off the bed as she pulled his boxers and slacks to his knees, immediately bringing her soft, warm hand around the base of the impressive erection that greeted her. He groaned at the contact while he tugged at her panties, ripping them to shreds. His fingertips found her most sensitive and reactive spot, rubbing and flicking lightly, yet boldly. It was now her turn to gasp and moan, her slippery, hot folds at his tender mercy. She leaned into him, losing her balance as he continued to ply her flesh with even caresses.
Her breaths began to come out in short pants, her hips involuntarily bucking against his hand, release so close, yet so far. His lips latched onto her neck, his other hand lie on the curve of her back right before her behind, encouraging her to ride his hand. He added a finger into her, and then another. Her rugged gasp against his ear encouraged him to continue to fondle and tease.
While his fingers moved in and out of her in steady strokes, he strategically pressed his palm onto her clit, with just enough pressure for the tantalizing heat of her loin to rise and flow out of her. The rhythm he created was so good, too good. She loved how he always knew how to use his hands to his advantage. She suspected that surgeons of his caliber knew their target well and how to get it to react the way they wanted.
Of the countless times they made love, she noticed that he knew her well, just where to touch and taunt, and how long to focus on any given spot until she erupted in his arms. She needed that. Someone who knew her. He was the only person in the world who truly did.
He felt even more wetness seep from her hole, and he swore he felt his cock grow another inch or two in the hand that never left it. She wrapped her other arm around his neck, pressing herself into him, her breasts smashed against his chest, her cheek resting against his as she cried out in release. Her head fell back, her spine arched and his large hand that landed between her shoulder blades kept her from falling backwards as she spun over the edge.
Something inside of her cracked in that moment and she knew exactly what it was. The stubborn determination to emotionally evade him was gone, because no matter how much he infuriated her, no matter how disappointing his decisions were to her lately, they would always have this, the two of them.
As lost and out of control as she, he bowed his head to sip one tight, pearly nipple between his lips. He sucked and nipped greedily, desperate to latch onto her wherever he could. It only intensified the sensations burning her from the inside out as she felt a new wave crash through her.
When she finally rode it out, when her squeals and moans ceased to echo through the darkness, she pushed him onto his back, and fell onto him. She created a trail of hot kisses down his chest and stomach, until she felt the damp tip of his shaft on her chin. She sat up a little and met his eyes, one hand traveled the length of him over and over, while the other squeezed and massaged his balls, so reactive to and cognizant of every feathery touch that he almost lost his load in her hands.
He knew what she was about to do, and she knew how much he loved to watch while she did it, but he knew that he wouldn't survive it, not tonight. He needed to be in the velvety cradle of her body when he came, it was the only way he could truly convey to her how much she meant to him, how sorry he was, because while he can say the words and mean them, she was against listening at this point.
"Kate, I won't last. I just need to be inside of you. Please" he begged, his voice choked with desperation that only she could create within him, so blinding that he saw nothing but her, felt nothing but her.
She crawled towards his face, her curls cascading over one shoulder, the ends brushing against his side as she lazily traveled over him, her lips pressing against the skin of his upper chest. Every impression, even the light tickle of the ends of her curly locks, magnified. He felt her everywhere, even in places where she wasn't.
He suddenly turned over, taking her with him until she lied on her back. Wiping away the strewn curls stuck to the dampness of her forehead, he entered her slowly, and immediately met her tightness. He sucked in a groan while he inched closer and closer inside, her pleas to hurry up made it impossible for him to resist. He was finally deep inside, waiting for her to adjust to him as she purred and sighed against his ear, her hands squeezing his backside, as prepared for the ride as he was.
He stared into her eyes while he moved against her, his hands gently grasping hers and pulling them above her head. She soon realized that this wasn't just about sex anymore; he was going to make love to her. She wanted to push at him, but it felt too good to be touched this way again, to be the center of his passionate attention.
This wasn't what she wanted. She wanted to punish him with this, to show her anger proudly and unrelentingly, but it buckled her resolve to realize that this was exactly what she was looking for; this was why she came to him. To love and to be loved. He was the only person in the world she trusted this with, that she wanted this with.
He read the confused infatuation in her eyes and dipped his lips to hers, shaking her to the core with one sloppy, heated open-mouthed kiss, clearly payback for devouring him earlier. He wanted this to last, the months they'd been apart felt like years and he wasn't ready to let go of the moment, but he felt himself slipping, floating away.
His strokes went from slow and calm to hard and reckless. She met him with her own enthusiasm, lifting and pressing her center into his, urging him to go harder and faster, her release at the tip of her every nerve. After a few more focused plunges, she screamed his name as the familiar blast of tingling warmth sliced through her groin and rippled outward. She felt him shudder against her as he exploded, his breaths coming out in clipped spurts.
Heavy breathing and sighs of exhaustion filled the room as their bodies held to one another in blissful aftermath.
"I'm sorry that I hurt you" he said, so heartrendingly so that a huge lump formed in her throat.
She raked her hands over the sweaty skin of his back, his apology and the weight of his hard form against hers equally comforting.
"I'm so sorry that I couldn't come back to you" he breathed and kissed her.
"I know" she said, her palm resting against his cheek.
He collapsed onto his back again, his forearm placed over his eyes, his chest rising and falling on uneven breaths after releasing inside of her for what felt like the millionth time that night. She collapsed onto his chest soon after, as out of breath and slick with sweat as he was. She lost count of the number of ways they took each other; her muscles grew tired and achy from the lengthy, satisfying experience.
"I know" she whispered, as his eyes drifted close, her last sight before sleep took her.
His heavy eyelids rose against the steadily mounting sun outside of his window. Dim sunlight flooded the room from the gaps between the curtains. He felt her soft and warm form pressed into his side before he looked over to witness how beautiful she looked when she slept. He watched her for a little while. Her head rested in the dent where his shoulder met his upper chest, her leg wrapped around his, and her free arm wrapped over his chest.
He knew that this wasn't going to solve all of their problems. They still needed to talk and figure out where to go from here. He prepared himself for the fact that she would continue to be angry with him. Kate wasn't one to let him slide back into her good graces without some work on his end. This wasn't a simple fight or an argument that can be cleanly forgiven in one night. He really screwed up, he knew that and he hoped beyond reason that going back to the Island, to find out what it wanted from him, would provide the fresh start they both needed.
Thanks for reading!