The door handle pressed painfully into her back, but Phryne Fisher didn't care. Nothing at all mattered right now, nothing except those fingers.
The dress she'd had made especially for today was pulled up to her waist, the band of her knickers pulled tight around the hand pushed under them, reaching between her legs.
"Jack," she gasped, "Ohh..."
He smirked, curling his fingers inside her and watching as her hips bucked against them.
"Shhhh," he murmured into her ear, his thumb moving to brush over her clit and make her whine, "We don't want anyone to hear you through that door, do we Miss Fisher?"
Phryne heard his words, but couldn't get her mind to process them. Her eyes were shut tight
"Jack." she panted, "Jack I want, I want-"
"What do you want, Phryne?" He asked her, smug and knowing.
"I want to-"
"Yes?" He grinned as she writhed.
"Jaaaack..." She was whimpering his name, drawing it out and he could feel her beginning to shake.
"Do you want to come?"
"Yes! Yes, please Jack, please."
Jack removed his hand. Phryne cried at the loss, her legs tingling with the promise of a climax that Jack had just snatched from her reach.
"You can come, Phryne." He said evenly, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his wet fingers with it, "but not now. Your Aunt is probably looking for you. You did say you just needed the facilities after all."
Slowly Phryne blinked at him. Her dress had fallen back around her knees, and though completely dressed she felt utterly undone. Jack stood before her completely composed, and now as he tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket there was not a sign he'd done anything but step out for some air.
"I was about to-"
"I know." He smirked. "But you know I like you coming on my cock. So you'll have to wait. Just until we get home."
She groaned. Who knew how long her Aunt would keep them here, this boring society fundraiser dinner was full of uptight men that kept looking down their nose at her, a woman who dared to take control of her life, and their high society wives looking down at at Jack, a policeman dressed in a suit the same price as the fine champagne they were drinking.
"Uh-uh, Phryne." Jack scolded, "Don't you complain at all. You should be grateful I'll let you come at all tonight, after you dragged me here."
"However," He continued, "if you behave for the rest of the evening, I might just take you in your parlour when we return tonight. Or perhaps that's still too far. Perhaps against the front door, we'll see how lucky you are."
Longing filled her gaze and Jack smiled.
"But only if you behave." He admonished, "Do you promise to behave, Phryne?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"What was that?"
"Yes, Jack."
Jack smiled, "Good."
He reached out then and grasped her arms gently, pulling her away from the door and unlocking it. He left the bathroom without another word, closing the door behind him and leaving Phryne to try bring herself back to some semblance of decency.
When she rejoined the party downstairs Phryne tried to be patient. She tried to behave and wait quietly until she and Jack could leave without raising eyebrows. But patience had never been her strong suit, especially when she was wound as tightly as this.
Without her permission her hand found its way onto Jack's thigh as they sat in the large parlour of her aunt's house and shared polite conversation and drinks with a young woman -unmarried and hinting she preferred to stay that way- the girl was soon called away by her stern looking father, and once she'd left Jack covered Phryne's hand with his own, moving it from his leg to her knee.
"That is not," he murmured quietly, "what I would call behaving, Phryne."
Before Phryne could stop to think of the consequences she found herself leaning in close and whispering;
"Her father must think so too. He was glaring so directly as you smiled and laughed with his daughter." She smiled, leaning in closer so Jack could feel her breath against his neck, "I believe he thought we might corrupt her. Perhaps he considered we'd invite her into a ménage à troi. Wouldn't that be nice Jack? Two of us to control, you could make us take turns in coming and bending over for your will. You could make us explore each other as you watched, she is so pretty too, don't you think darling? Wouldn't she look lovely in your arms, in our arms?"
Jack growled, turning a firm gaze toward Phryne by his side.
"I doubt she screams quite so well." He murmured dangerously against her ear, his hand squeezing hers, still placed over her knee.
Phryne shivered, feeling her thigh muscles clench and shudder around nothing.
"I want to go home," she whispered, "Please Jack, I want-"
"Patience, Phryne." He smirked at her, "Just sit here, talk to your aunt's guests and try not to stain the furniture. I'm going to go over there now and if you're good, we'll leave in half an hour." And with that he stood, walking through the room of guests to find himself another drink.
After a full hour and a half they were finally leaving, Phryne giving her aunt just the briefest of kisses on the cheek before abruptly striding out towards her Hispano. Jack paused to offer Mrs Stanley a more adequate goodbye, then followed after Phryne to the car.
She drove, she needed to keep her hands busy and she wasn't sure her self control could last the entire distance from her aunt's to her own house in St Kilda if he had driven them.
Speeding her way through the streets even faster than she might normally travel, they arrived in St Kilda rather promptly, and the moment she'd pulled over outside her house she was jumping from the car and searching her small bag for her house keys.
Jack chuckled, strolling at a leisurely pace behind her, watching her fumble to unlock the door as he walked up the front steps of her small porch.
The door opened and she turned expectantly, waiting for him as she stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
"Jack?" She asked, breathless and hopeful.
"Parlour." he ordered.
Phryne didn't need telling twice. She pushed the doors open and turned on the parlour lights, her bag dropping to a side table. Jack walked up behind her, an arm winding around her waist to press firmly into her lower stomach. She moaned, reaching back for his neck, twisting her own so he could kiss her.
As his lips pressed to hers his free hand reached down and grasped at the fabric of her dress. Slowly he began to pull it up, inch by inch, revealing her knees then the tops of her champagne stockings and the hem of her knickers.
"Hold this." He murmured, and Phryne quickly lowered her hands to hold the fabric in place.
"Good." He kissed her once, softly, then stepped back trailing his hands along the backs of her legs, slipping under the hem of her knickers to squeeze her backside.
His breath was hot against her skin and Jack rubbed his face along the back of her neck, reveling in the shudders he felt running down her spine.
"You won't be needing these, Miss Fisher." And he bent slowly down to the ground, his face a hair's breadth away from her back, pulling the French knickers down her thighs until they fluttered gently to the floor.
A soft whimper in the back of her throat was the only response Phryne made. She stepped obediently from the garment as Jack prompted each of her ankles with a soft tap, and he stood, just as slowly and close as when he'd lowered. Phryne bit her lip, now standing in the middle of her parlour holding her dress up to her waist with just her stockings and fine Louis heeled shoes underneath.
He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, then murmured softly into the crook of her shoulder, "Hands on the armchair, Phryne."
She reached out and gripped the head rest of the closest chair, then felt Jack's hand on her waist, pushing at her so she shifted under his touch.
"Bend over, that's it." He said, "Feet wide."
Phryne stepped her left foot out further, spreading her legs. Behind her Jack groaned his approval, his hands once again exploring her backside.
"Perfect."
The word had barely left his mouth before one of his hands pulled back and quickly shot forward, hitting her with a loud 'smack!' of palm on flesh.
She gasped, her grip on the chair tightening. Behind her Jack raised his hand again, and the sting of his second slap rushed through her like fire. Phryne moaned softly.
"I can't hear you." Jack murmured, and his hand flew back and hit her again, the otherwise porcelain skin of her backside beginning to flush delightfully red. His next hit came harder than the others, the sound of it echoing through the room and Phryne yelped, the pain of it still radiating through her when his hand met her backside for the fifth time.
"Oh!" Phryne yelled and Jack grinned, his hand rubbing gently at her sore skin.
"Very good," he murmured, "very, very good."
His hand moved then, sliding around her waist and reaching down past her coarse curls until -Phryne moaned- he found her clit. He teased it as she gasped, smirking down at her and trailing the fingers of his left hand along the back of her bare left thigh.
"Other side," Jack told her, pinching the untouched side of her bottom. She moaned, quivering slightly as his right hand continued to stroke so slowly at her clit.
"Ready?"
"Yessss." She whispered, "Oh Jack."
He raised his hand and smacked her. She whimpered, her hips jumping at the contact and pushing into his fingers, making her moan again.
"That's it Phryne, rub yourself against my fingers." Jack grinned, smacking her again, a bit harder this time.
She moaned, feeling heat not just pooling in her abdomen, but beginning to drip down her legs. She was still reeling from earlier, still so close to that edge and with each sharp smack she moved even closer.
"Jack!" she cried, her hips starting to stutter and buck, "Jack, Jack please, I'm so close, please Jack." Her words were a jumble, her thoughts an incoherent mess as she trembled, only her grip on the chair and Jack's arm around her waist stopping her knees from giving way beneath her.
"Tell me, Phryne." Jack said then, trailing his fingertips over the gorgeous red of her skin. "Did you behave tonight?"
"Yes Jack,"
"A hand high on my leg, and whispered smut in my ear, then squirming with you legs pressed tight all night, not speaking a word to anyone until your abrupt departure... Do you call that behaving, Phryne?"
His fingers had slowed, then stopped; now resting quite still over her wet flesh as she whimpered.
"I tried,"
"Not hard enough." Jack said, "And so, Phryne, I don't think you deserve to come. Stand up and go upstairs."
His hands fell away and Jack took a step back, watching as Phryne shakily stood to her full height, her dress falling back into place, covering her nudity. She turned and faced him, her face red and pupils blown wide.
"Jack," she whispered, still hoping for the release he'd refused her twice that night.
"Upstairs, Phryne." He said calmly, "And if I go up there and find you've touched yourself, there will be consequences. Do you understand?"
Slowly, Phryne nodded.
Without moving Jack watched her turn and walk shakily from the parlour to the stairs. She held the banister tight, taking each step carefully as she climbed. Once she was out of sight, Jack smiled.
He collected her knickers from the floor in front of him and tucked them into his pocket, taking his time before walking around the room and shutting the lights off. Then, just to keep her waiting, Jack moved to the drinks tray by the doorway. In the light from the hall he poured them both a good measure of whisky, and then slowly began his journey upstairs to the sanctity of Phryne's boudoir.
Jack stepped into the doorway to find the room dimly lit, and Phryne lying completely naked across her bed. She was like a vision he thought, and as he often did in these moments Jack wondered how he'd come to deserve such an honour as this. The beautiful Phryne Fisher, not only his to touch, adore and make love to, but his to control... well, perhaps that was to strong a word. His to conduct, direct, dominate.
"Sit up," he murmured softly, "Against the pillows. Hips forward."
She did as he asked and he grinned, taking a decent sip of his drink before toeing off his shoes and climbing on to the bed with her.
"Hold these for me." he asked her,
She took the glasses from him easily and sat against the headboard waiting. Jack crawled over her and leant in close, kissing her softly. When he pulled back he smirked, and whispered.
"Careful now, Phryne. Don't spill a drop."
He sat back completely, and Phryne watched him with a small frown of confusion as he moved down the bed and lay down between her ankles.
Jack smiled up at her, then ducked his head to kiss one ankle, then the other, his hands coming to wrap around each one and slowly spread them.
He moved up, trailing kisses along her left calf muscle, then the inside of her right knee. Phryne shivered, gasping in surprise as his tongue traced over the sensitive skin. The whisky in each glass wobbled, and Phryne bit her lip. This was suddenly looking like it would be a lot more difficult than she'd considered.
Between her legs Jack smirked, then continued upward to her thighs making Phryne moan and wantonly spread her legs further.
He moved between right and left with every inch he climbed, until finally he reached the apex of her legs and kissed her right where she most needed it.
Phryne moaned and let her head tip back as Jack tasted her. He licked her slowly over her labia and circled teasingly across her entrance, then jumped another inch and closed his lips around her clit.
"Oh, Jack!" Phryne cried, trying with all she had not to buck and spill the fine whisky across her silk sheets.
A man should not be able to move his tongue the way Jack Robinson could move his, she thought. Not even a minute since his mouth had reached her sex and she had tears forming in her eyes, an orgasm teetering in front of her, just out of reach.
"Jack," she whimpered, "Jaccckkk."
At the waver in her voice Jack stopped suddenly and sat up, taking one of the glasses from her as she actually sobbed her frustration. Smirking, Jack knocked back his drink, swallowing the entire contents in one.
"Drink." he said, watching her until she too raised her glass to her lips and emptied it.
He accepted the empty tumbler and placed it with his on her night stand. Moving back he looked at her flopped back into her pillows, eyes glassy with desire, skin aglow. He kissed her then, pushing his tongue against hers and feeling her whimper and moan as she took in the taste of whisky and her own salty sex on his lips.
As he kissed her Jack reached between them, his fingers finding his belt. He undid the buckle and the buttons of his trousers, then shucked down his cotton boxers and pulled his erection free. Cock held in one hand, Jack reached for Phryne's hip with the other, still kissing her as he traced his tip along her sex.
She whined pitifully and bucked beneath him, her fingers grasping his jacket lapel and gripping tightly.
Jack grinned into her mouth, sliding along her torturously until finally, finally, he pushed himself forward and sank inside her with a groan.
He began to move, pulling back from her mouth to watch her as he pulled back and thrust firmly into her. She cried out, still holding his lapel as he smirked. His hands slid over her legs, adjusting them around his hips and he continued to thrust inside her. She had her eyes shut tight, her mouth open in a continuous silent moan until, like lightning, she broke, her hips her buckling into his, her chest thrusting forward as he back arched and her head fell back, a long cry falling from her lips, her muscles clenching all around him and Phryne came.
Jack couldn't even bring himself to be annoyed she'd climaxed without permission. He was too astonished it had been on his third thrust inside her.
"I'm sorry," she gasped, "I didn't mean to- please don't stop."
And he didn't stop. In fact, if anything, he began to fuck her harder, bending forward to take a breast into his mouth as he pushed further and further, a hand slipping between them until his thumb ran over her clit and she screamed his name and he knew she was close again.
"What do you say Phryne?" he asked breathlessly into her skin, "What does a good girl have to say before they come?"
"Please!" She yelled, "Please, please, I'm sorry Jack, please!"
Jack smirked kissing her sloppily before nodding and whispering against her ear.
"Yes."
She screamed her release, clenching down on his cock so that Jack had to shut his eyes and bite her shoulder against his own orgasm. He was not ready to end this just yet.
The moment her shuddering stopped, her yells turning to heaving gulps of air, Jack pulled back and out of her. His own breathing was heavy and audible, and he stepped away from the bed, trying to gather control over himself.
He walked to Phryne's private bathroom and splashed his face with water from the sink, then filled his cupped hands and drank. After a few long minutes of standing braced over the sink Jack felt he could return to the bedroom.
Phryne lay there much the way she had when he'd left, but she'd slid further down, to be lying mostly along her back, rather than up against the pillows against the headboard.
She turned her head to look at him and he smiled, slowly removing his his jacket and placing it over the chaise on the far side of her room. Next he undid the buttons of his waistcoat and removed that before starting on his cuff-links, his tie, his shirt, his vest. Then his trousers, his garters and hose, and finally his boxers. Completely naked now Jack returned to the bed, climbing onto the mattress and sitting back against the pillows.
He watched Phryne curiously as she looked up at him from beneath her lashes.
Slowly, and seemingly with great effort she rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up onto all fours. Phryne crawled lazily over to him, then let her body lax, holding herself up on just her elbows as she dropped her head and kissed down his stomach.
"Mm," Jack hummed, "Good girl."
He dropped a hand to her head and ran his fingers gently through her black hair, holding the bob out of the way as her mouth found his erection. He groaned, watching her lazily as she slowly bobbed up and down his length.
"Faster, Phryne."
She obeyed, sucking harder and moving faster until he was groaning and his gentle hand at the back of her neck came to grip painfully at her hair.
"Enough," he pulled her off, "I want to come in you, come here."
Phryne climbed easily into his lap, and Jack held her hips as she lined up to his cock and sank down.
They both groaned, and Phryne whimpered, still so sensitive.
"Can you come again?" he asked her.
Biting her lip Phryne nodded.
Jack cupped her check, his thumb caressing her lips until she let if free from her grip.
"Phryne?"
"Yes, Jack," she whispered.
"Lovely." and he pulled her to him for a gentle kiss. "Show me."
Bracing her hands on his shoulders, Phryne pushed her hips roughly against his and began to move. She bounced easily in his lap, small breasts dancing tantalisingly, hips rolling in swirling and changing patterns that has Jack swearing under his breath.
It wouldn't take them long, he knew, and he reached up to grasp her breasts, his thumbs and fingers pinching her nipples.
Phryne shrieked, eyes wide, a universe of emotion hidden behind her gaze.
"Yes," Jack stuttered, "Yes Phryne, come with me. Yes."
"Jack!"
"Phryne,"
They shattered, falling spent into each others arms. Chests heaving and hearts pounding, every nerve in both their bodies slowly coming down from an attack like no other.
Sated their eyes drooped. Lying back against the pillows, still wrapped around each other, Jack and Phryne fell asleep.