Title: Compelled
Author: TracyT
Rating: T
Category: Romance, a little angst
Summary She didn't know why he felt compelled
Spoilers: None
Archive: Yes, please
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Disclaimer: Not mine, but I wish they were. No profit will be made on this. It was a labor of love.
Author's note: I was looking through some of my old writing and found this. I hadn't even remembered that I wrote it, and I certainly never published it. Short and sweet. Hope you like it.
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She never knew why he felt compelled to say it, but she knew it would be said. Breathlessly, in the grips of something inevitable, something wild and primal, he would utter the words every time.
Just now he'd come into her lab and caught her unaware, turning her to him roughly and covering her mouth with his, devouring her, holding her to him and letting her feel what was driving him. Rough, hard hands on her hips drove her backward until the barrier of the work table stopped them, trapping her between it and the heat of his body.
She glanced toward the door, noting he'd closed it on his way in. The security camera had been disabled on one of his recent visits, and to her knowledge had not been fixed, but she wasn't sure.
He tore his mouth from hers, kissing his way down her neck, each one burning her skin, setting her on fire as she felt a hand burrow under her shirt seeking and finding her breast. She moaned her approval and pushed into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He broke the embrace long enough to pull her T-shirt over her head, then he took her into his arms and kissed her with long, deep kisses that made her weak at the knees. Finally, he broke away with breath heavy on her face, he said the words:
"I love you."
As he covered her mouth again and began working at the fastening of her pants she once again thought, what was this? Explanation? Request for permission? Rationalization? Payment for services soon to be rendered? What? She had never asked it of him, had never required it, had never returned the words, so why?
Her response as she felt his fingers skim past the edge of her panties, was what it always was, just his name.
"Jack," the word was a little rough as she felt him stroke her, fingers spreading the moisture he found there. She worked the buttons on his shirt until she got it open, then she was touching the warm skin beneath, the scattering of hair crisp to the touch. She let him do as he pleased as she buried her face in his neck, breathing deeply of his scent, then tasting the skin with a long stroke of her tongue. She felt his sharp intake of breath, then a low moan.
She could feel the heat and hardness of him pressed against her. As she heard the sound of his zipper sliding down, he cupped her chin in one hand and claimed her mouth in a searing kiss and she ceased to think. She only felt.
Fin