Another World- Tag for the PROMO for 5.01 „The Crimson Ticket"
Beware: this is a PROMO-tag! I have absolutely no idea how the scenes in the promo are connected, if they even belong in any close context, so this is just my irrelevant depiction of things- nothing more but a fantasy that might have NOTHING to do with the actual episode, not even in the unsmutty parts!
I wrote this on request from some people, something I almost never do- I don't cope well with pressure, and always write best when I don't think about my readers too much- I hope you like this anyway!
About the OOC-factor: I don't expect Jane to apologize or feel sorry ONE BIT. But if the "Love you", the holding hands and the hug has told us anything, then that Lisbon gets to Jane… he has deep feelings for her, and he certainly hasn't planned to reveal them. So on a certain level, she can make him lose control- I just exaggerate a little bit in my stories ;D. But: I don't really expect to see a humbled Jane. I just twist and turn his character for my stories. If you don't like that, better don't read my stories.
Last but not least, this is a Rothelena-story, and whenever I encounter strong emotions between my OTP, they end in roughly the same result- so this is rated M, M, M and contains sex, so if that's not your cup of tea, better don't go on.
Disclaimer: I don't own "The Mentalist" and I don't make money from fan fiction.
Another World- Tag for the PROMO for 5.01 „The Crimson Ticket"
The moment Patrick Jane left the interrogation room, he realized that things wouldn't be going quite as smoothly as he had anticipated. He groaned inwardly.
But what had he expected? That Lisbon would meekly sit back and let him do whatever he wanted in that room? He winced and sighed before he walked on to face the music.
Senior special agent Teresa Lisbon stood directly in his way, and she looked thoroughly pissed. As in, downright livid.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" she hissed, her small hands fisting next to her thighs.
She looked gorgeous, he couldn't help noticing. Ever since he'd returned from Las Vegas, he couldn't look his fill. Good that he absolutely didn't have the time to wonder about that at the moment.
He donned his usual, nonchalant smile, although the rising tension running through her body told him that it might not be the sensible thing to do. Well, since when did he do sensible?
"I have no idea what you're referring to, dear Lisbon." He smiled.
"You kissed her!" she cried out, and for a second, he glimpsed a spark of desperation in her eyes that halted him.
He did the usual, plowed on.
"I told you not to listen!"
He'd known she would listen, of course. If not out of strictly professional reasons, her curiosity would have made her. But the fact remained accurate: he had told her. She hadn't taken his advice.
But his statement fueled her anger into proportions that made his insides clench in an unnamed emotion he didn't dare to look too close at.
"I'm not your girlfriend, I'm a law enforcement officer!" she cried out, "The suspect is in MY custody, and you have NO business forbidding me to listen in on my own interrogations, you…"
"You're right," he interrupted, "you're NOT my girlfriend, and I didn't want you to listen because I didn't want to compromise your position as official leader of this investigation!"
"Oh," she said, making huge soft eyes he found incredibly cute out of a strange reason, "so you wanted to shut me out of your FREAKING interrogation because you wanted me to keep my professional integrity. How thoughtful of you! You sure it wasn't so I couldn't stop you from making out with your criminal lover?"
He straightened and looked closely at her. She was shaking with anger, but her eyes were open, liquid, the heat inside them mesmerizing. He wanted to end this, make everything better by a strike of magic, but he knew he couldn't.
"Is it possible that you're not very professional, Lisbon, but instead incredibly jealous?"
Her blush was fast and swift, and it did all kinds of interesting things to his equilibrium.
"In your dreams, Jane" she growled and came closer, so close he could feel her sweet breath on his face. His skin tingled, and he had to lick his dry lips. Repeatedly. "let me tell you one thing: if you ever do something like that again, there gonna be consequences. You're scared the FBI could restrict your access to Ms. Martins? What if I restrict it?"
Anger shot up inside him like a flame.
"You wouldn't do that."
"If you can't keep a PROFFESSIONAL distance," she practically snarled into his face, "I'm going to consider it."
"You know damn well we have to make her talk," he hissed back, closing the remaining distance between them even further, "and whatever I have to do to make her, I'LL DO!"
"And that entails kissing her in the interrogation room?"
"In fact, IT DOES, Lisbon!"
"You're a liar, Jane," she growled, "you fell in love with her while you were undercover in Las Vegas, Red John's bait for you, and now you can't admit to yourself that you…"
"My feelings are nothing of your concern," he interrupted, "and I won't share them with you. Trust me that my main interest is still catching Red John- and it should be yours, too."
Any trace of cool left her face then, and a hot shudder of shame ran through his body. The sensation was rare to him, and all of a sudden, he could hardly look at her. Her face was so pure, the emotions on it fierce and passionate, easily readable to him. Like a gift. An offering. He swallowed. Her disappointment was a palpable force between them.
"Bite me." She breathed and stormed into her office, slamming the door behind her.
For a moment, he stood dumbfounded, shocked by what was happening inside him. But her eyes wouldn't leave him, hypnotizing in their alluring sadness.
How did she dare to burden him with THAT? He had important things to concentrate on, more humans would die when Red John wasn't caught, and she even thought about restricting his access to the only available witness, when he was the ONLY one who could make her talk? Out of petty jealousy?
Before he could reconsider it, he had opened her door and walked inside her office. She stood in front of her desk, was in fact leaning against it, her small frame shaking slightly, hardly perceptible, but he could see it.
She was silently crying, her cheeks wet from countless hot rivulets, and her tears made him snap.
He wouldn't let her bungle this unique chance for him.
He stalked her, feelings of triumph and glee shooting through him when she retreated behind her desk, bringing it between them as some kind of protection. He simply walked around it, intimidating her enough to make her back off again, retreating further until her back hit the window next to her desk. The blinds rattled, but he came closer, so close his chest touched hers.
The contact sent a sharp tingle over his skin, but he ignored it.
"You know you are my friend, Lisbon," he whispered menacingly, "and I respect you. But Loralei is a once in a lifetime chance to get to Red John. And I won't let you spoil it. So don't threaten me EVER AGAIN."
"LEAVE MY OFFICE." She growled, "I mean it, Jane- get out."
Her breath was as sweet as candy, hot as lava. He found himself inhaling sharply, sucking it into his lungs.
"Not before you acknowledge that I have the right to do these interrogations in whatever way I deem fit." He breathed.
Her mouth was so close, it was small, cherry-red, her lips slightly parted, her teeth pearly white.
He shuddered.
"The devil I will," she said firmly, "back off, Jane. Before I have to arrest you."
"I guess I'll take the chance." He growled and pressed his lips on hers.
As soon as her taste registered on his tongue, he knew it was a terrible mistake. A hot flood of emotions washed through his veins, and the urgency inside his blood became fierce and demanding.
He grabbed her slim hips, his grip so tight he knew he was bruising her, and pulled her closer, pressing his hips against hers, his erection growing against his stomach. He groaned, things like that never happened to him, he'd honed his skills since he'd been able to talk, and involuntary arousal just didn't occur in his life.
He felt himself start to throb against her flat abdomen, it was almost painful, and he gasped into her mouth. His tongue pushed between her lips before he could form a single coherent thought, and the feeling of her sucking on it completely did him in.
He felt dizzy with a poisonous cocktail of emotions, anger, fear, determination, and some stranger things he couldn't even consider, his heart reaching out, feeling dumb things he would've forbidden himself if he could just think clearly, but she tasted so perfect, like caramel and the first warm touch of spring, he shivered all over.
Her hands drove into his hair, scratching his scalp, making him squirm against her small, supple body.
When she broke the kiss, he felt slightly disoriented, and his raging hard-on didn't make self-control all that easier.
She shoved at his chest, and he stumbled back.
"Get out," she growled, her lips kiss-swollen, her glorious hair tousled. Her voice was hoarse and breathless, and she was shaking as much as he was.
"Tell me that you leave Loralei to me and won't interfere any further." He said hoarsely.
She snorted.
"On the day hell freezes over," she cried out, "you want a carte blanche from me to stick your tongue into her…"
He grabbed her, damn, she was small, he'd never noticed how much, his grip was much too hard, but she didn't even flinch. He shoved his tongue into her mouth without warning, pressing his hand against the back of her head to hold her still.
Her kiss was angry, violent, hot love bites that instantly made him crave more, he almost wanted her to hurt him. His mind screamed at him to stop, get out now, the whole thing was risky and stupid. She would never give him free reins, and he had never expected her to, so why in hell couldn't he pull out of the game gracefully?
"GET THE FUCK OUT!" she snarled against his mouth, and that crushed the sorry rest of his self-control.
He cleared her desk with a distinct swipe of his arm, the clutter hitting the floor noisily, and turned her in his arms, bending her over the table. He grabbed both her wrists with one of his hands.
"JANE!" she screamed, "Do that and I swear you're DEAD!"
But she belied her own words by spreading her legs instinctively, only to close them again when his free hand wandered around her hips, opening the button of her slacks, pulling the zipper down.
He couldn't believe he was doing this, swore to himself he would stop if undressing her would prove the least bit difficult, but obviously he was cursed today, for her pants slid down her legs so easily as if they were there to accommodate him. He ripped off her panties, ignoring her enraged outcry, and fumbled with the fastenings of his pants.
The blood was rushing inside his head like a solid wall of noise, drowning his senses.
He slid his hand over her buttocks, her wrists wriggling only slightly inside his hold, her flesh was firm and muscular. He pushed his index finger between her folds and found her wet, so wet he growled in the depths of his chest.
"Tell me you won't interfere again, Lisbon," he whispered.
He swore to himself if she would relent now he would stop, back off, leave her office immediately. He would accept whatever punishment she'd dish out. But he needed unrestrained access to Loralei, dammit.
"NEVER!" she shouted, foaming with anger, and he pushed inside.
The first sensation was better than anything he had ever felt. She was tight, hugging him snugly, her core hot and liquid, allowing him to slide into her with offering only a whiff of resistance. He felt that he was too big, stretching her so far it had to be uncomfortable, but she pushed back against him, spreading her legs even wider to give him better access.
He groaned heavily and pushed deeper, gritting his teeth against the onslaught of simply wonderful feelings.
What was he doing, for god's sake? He was compromising everything he had worked for, he should concentrate on LORALEI, dammit! This was unimportant, dangerous, downright idiotic.
Another surge of his hips brought him inside her to the hilt, his balls slapping against her buttocks. He felt her sheath burn around his cock like liquid fire, the vise-like grip squeezing him until he could hardly breathe.
God. No way he could stop now.
He released her tiny wrists and almost hoped she would stop him, push him away, slap him left and right for what he had done.
But she put her hands flat against the tabletop and pushed her backside against him, shoving him away a little, moaning when he surged back immediately, slamming into her utmost depths.
He needed to get out of here, he thought and wrapped his hands around her waist, starting to thrust with an urgent groan that almost made the panes rattle.
He thrust hard, fast, releasing his anger, his fear that Lisbon would take the one chance of catching Red John from him, the strain of lies and deception and a charm that didn't feel as easy and fluent as it had before, the mind-blowing desire for his beautiful, stubborn superior.
She writhed beneath him, her sounds spurring him on, he all but rammed his cock into her, again and again, sending it over tissue so soft and swollen, so tight around his hard flesh. Her body shook under his rough thrusts, her hips slapping against her desk every time he drove into her as deep as he could go.
He tried to spread her legs further, but her pants stopped the movement. Heaven and hell, she was too tight like this, but he would die if he stopped now, so he simply pushed through the resistance and resumed his pounding, punishing strokes, her flesh sucking on him every time he pulled out and surged into her again.
He felt the supple tension that gripped her body when she came, the tightening of her internal muscles around his thrusting cock, although she stubbornly bit her lip to stop from crying out her release.
He would have smiled if he hadn't lost all control over his facial muscles, his features contorting with a climax he could already taste.
He bent over, pushing his chest against her back, panting into her ear. Her core's delicious little aftershocks rippled around his length, he felt himself getting wider, longer, filling her completely, the telltale indication that he would come any second.
"Are you on birth control?" he gasped, his brain hardly able to form the words.
"Yes." She breathed, and almost at the same moment, he felt the first jets of seed shoot into her, long, deep, like a series of fiery explosions. It cleared his head, made him able to breathe again, but he didn't stop pressing his hips against her buttocks, filling her with more and more spurts of his semen. His stomach clenched with the force of his release, and he shuddered violently with every single outburst, until all that remained were dry heaves of pleasure.
He pulled out immediately, turning away from the desk, pushing his softening length back into his underwear, fumbling to get his clothes in order.
When he turned, she was once again half-sitting on her desk, looking at him. She was so beautiful he had no words for it. Her perfect, wavy hair flowing around her heart-shaped face, her expressive, moist eyes glowing like stars. Hot, small mouth red and pouty.
When he tried to say something, he realized there was nothing to say.
Her eyes were sad and resolved, as if she already knew how much whatever came now would hurt. Shame washed over him in a steady river, but he knew the feeling so well. He was a miserable excuse for a human being, and this did nothing but prove it.
Averting his gaze, he turned away and opened the door, trying not to make a sound when he closed it behind him.
Xxxxxxxxxx
His smile felt fake and mechanical, but he had no doubt that it worked. Loralei already knew his goal, they didn't have to fool each other about that. He just had to make her change the sides. That was all that mattered.
He knew he couldn't underestimate her. She wouldn't believe that he was wildly in love with her, not when all they had shared was a single night. He was still surprised that she hadn't looked through his trickery when he had let her inside his motel room. She certainly seemed more perceptive now, so he had to be careful.
"Trouble in paradise?" she asked, her voice the usual sweet drawl, slightly hypnotic. Effective.
"Which paradise?" he sighed, smiling gently.
"I take it agent Lisbon doesn't approve of personal displays of affection in her interrogation room." Loralei said, her soft smile lighting up her whole face.
"No, she doesn't ," he chuckled, "but I don't answer to her. I'm the wild card on her team, so she isn't especially surprised."
"And you keep telling yourself you don't care." She stated calmly, reclining on her chair.
"I don't care." He shrugged, and immediately realized his mistake. It was stupid to deny things that were obviously true, it weakened his position, and damn, he should know better. He steeled his façade, called the non-committal smile up. "She… doesn't understand a few things about me, and that can't be helped."
That sounded okay. If he was lucky, it presented a challenge to her, made her want to be the one who unearthed his secret, got him completely. He had to strengthen the connection between him and her, that had to be his main focus.
"That's what you keep telling yourself, alright." She shrugged, leaning forward.
He got up, needing to bring some distance between them all of a sudden. This was not going well, better to retreat now before he said something really revealing. He could try again tomorrow, after he had regained his control. He was thoroughly shaken after his encounter with agent Lisbon-maybe he shouldn't have come here at all.
He turned to her, smiling brightly.
"It's the truth."
"It's not," Loralei chuckled, "agent Lisbon gets to you. Everybody can see it, even me. You're a LITTLE bit in love with her."
It took him far too long to get his facial expression back under control.
He felt that it would be stupid to deny it with a grand gesture. Every time he acted up like that, she could look deeper into him, so he needed to appear absolutely calm. Unfazed.
As if her words meant nothing to him.
He smiled and winked at her, trying to keep any emotion from showing on his face.
"Goodbye, Loralei," he said softly, "I'm looking forward to meeting you again, very soon."
"Me, too, lover." She answered, her voice the same sensual drawl as his.
He nodded and left the room, relieved to see that his fingers weren't shaking.
Xxxxxxxxxx
She couldn't stop reliving the moment when she had overheard Jane kissing Loralei Martins, and she couldn't understand why.
She had tried ice cream and strong coffee and TV-soaps, but her usual methods of comfort seemed direly trivial when she thought about what had happened today. She pulled her knees against her body and hugged them tightly. Had she really let him… she shuddered violently, the sensation resulting in a heavy shivering that just wouldn't stop. Her teeth were rattling.
Damn, why hadn't she stopped him?
One second she had been full of hate, his arrogant, condescending words stoking her anger into a blazing fire, and next she had needed him inside her so desperately she'd almost begged for it. Although of course she'd NEVER beg him for anything, dammit!
She released a helpless little sob and hated herself for it.
Whom was she kidding? She had been like this since the moment Loralei had dropped her bomb in that first interrogation. Had casually admitted that she'd had what had always been off-limits to Lisbon. It had hurt much more than it should have, and to be honest, not all of that white-hot pain had been professional.
Damn, she was stupid beyond words.
She had no doubt that Jane wouldn't stray from the path he'd planned to go- he would try to turn Loralei, and she had no idea how deep his feelings for Red John's minion ran. They could complicate everything. If Jane felt truly attracted to her, he could be running wild in no time.
Who told her he wouldn't try to help her escape? If she promised him to give him Red John, would he go against Lisbon and her team to free Loralei?
Thoughts of Erica Flynn came to the surface, adding to a hurt she still couldn't understand. He had never told her if he had known about Flynn's plan. Which was hardly a surprise- he only told her half of what he knew, she had no illusions about that.
She just wanted to keep him safe, dammit, but he was making that direly difficult.
She angrily wiped at the tears that were clouding her vision.
She could still feel him. His seed had dried on her legs before she had taken a hot, endless shower, crying under the spray where even she herself hardly noticed.
Why had she let it happen? He was too deep inside her soul already. She didn't need any more complications.
But she almost lovingly brushed her knuckles over the bruise he had left on her hip.
It would haunt her for the rest of her life, although she had no doubts that he would try to sweep it under the carpet. They had been angry, it had escalated, if they never spoke about it, there was no harm done.
But she would never forget it.
She knew she couldn't sleep like this, so she just curled into a ball on her couch and tried to will herself unconscious, the noise of the TV blaring above her head like a thunderstorm.
It was nothing against the turmoil inside of her.
Xxxxxxxxxx
Jane kicked against his makeshift bed in exasperation. Why couldn't he make himself cold and dead inside like he usually did, dammit? He still felt lonely and forlorn, his skin aching to be touched.
The night was cold, darkness had fully settled only an hour ago, and he looked out over the sparkle of lights the city presented at night.
You're a little bit in love with her.
He groaned. There were things in his life he just didn't NEED right now, and emotional confusion like this absolutely ranged on top of the list.
When he had noticed that he started to care far too deep, he had sworn that he would never look more closely at his feelings for his fierce little colleague. They were both in a position that didn't make them class A relationship material, she certainly had no interest in getting involved with him, so if they just stared the other way hard enough, they could protect their friendship.
But he had slipped- twice. The first time he had told her that he loved her, when he'd been about to fake-shoot her in her office. He had been out of his mind with fear at that very moment, she had been as pure and innocent and beautiful as he'd ever seen her, his angel dressed in black, and he had been so afraid that something would happen to her, that he would never see her again. It had simply poured out of him.
He'd thought he had made amends later, had distracted her enough to get her off the topic as fast as possible.
But it had worked inside him like a disease.
Love you. Love you, Teresa.
Teresa's name had flashed inside his mind like an alert when he had kissed Loralei, he hadn't been able to stop it, so he had surrendered willingly, listening to the soft words inside his mind like a mantra. He didn't need much emotion for kissing Red John's assistant, and it didn't matter which feelings he showed, as long as they convinced her.
He was a completely different matter. And he had slipped the second time when he had … what had he done?
He hadn't raped her, he was absolutely sure he would have stopped the second she had shown the slightest physical resistance, but she never had. She had been open and hot and passionate, had spurred him on, fueled his desire…
He trembled with renewed longing, a groan of frustration wrenched from his lips. He had wanted her more than his next draw of breath. And it had been more than a physical need. Oh god.
He loved her.
He had been stupid to hide it from himself, every secret made him weaker, his father had taught him as much. While he could never let strangers see into his heart, lying to himself was fatal. Loralei had picked up on his emotions like a vulture. If he had come clean long ago, that would never have happened.
He put his forehead against the cool glass of the window.
How he must have hurt her. He couldn't dismiss this, couldn't just pretend this had never happened, and at the back of his mind, he heard his father scolding him. Feelings were there to be addressed and gotten rid of. His love for Angela had caused the final rift between his father and him.
Now he was about to endanger his mission for love again.
He had no idea if he could pretend to be attracted to Loralei while his heart belonged to another woman. But the fact couldn't be changed. He just had to be good enough to do this- his ultimate con.
He took a deep breath and recalled Lisbon's face, how she had looked at him before he had left her at her office. He couldn't let her hurt like this, couldn't leave her with the doubts this time. Not after everything he had done.
He donned his jacket and left the attic on a brisk stride.
Xxxxxxxxxx
She almost didn't hear the knock on her door, and when she did, a frustrated groan tore from her throat.
Most likely the neighbors who wanted to complain about the loud TV.
She wiped her cheeks as dry as she could, took several deep breaths, put on a fake smile that wouldn't get her any prices and switched off the television before she strolled to the door.
To say she was surprised would have been the understatement of the century. Okay- so much for pretending that the whole thing hadn't meant anything to her. Even a mole could see that she had spent the whole evening bawling her eyes out.
She groaned inwardly and didn't bother with a neutral expression. So the wild, angry sex with her consultant had fazed her. Sue me.
He looked ashamed, and she frowned at him. Patrick Jane did NEVER feel guilty for the crap he pulled, he lied and deceived to get what he wanted. What had he done this time?
"What happened?" she asked. "Please, don't tell me that Loralei has escaped from the…."
"You're awful, Lisbon," he groaned, "I have practically forced myself on you and tried to blackmail you into giving up control over your investigation, and you think I came here to admit that I have burned headquarters down? Am I really this bad?"
"Worse," she said, the small smile totally involuntarily, "don't you see that your involvement with Loralei could complicate matters to no end? For example, you could weaken our case against her!"
He looked at her, worrying his lower lip.
"I won't lie to you," he said slowly, "I don't care about the case against Loralei. Whatever I have to do to make her give me Red John, I'll do. Even if I have to go against you and the law."
His words even didn't make her feel cold inside any longer. She had always known this, so she just nodded.
"You know I can't let you do this." She said.
"Yes," he nodded, "I expect you to stop me. We will fight over this, Teresa, and I will make you sad. But no matter what happens, there's one thing I want you to know."
He stepped closer, so close she could feel the heat of his body. He put a finger beneath her chin and made her raise her head.
"No matter what happens," he whispered, "I want you to know that I don't have any feelings for Loralei Martins. She is my road to Red John, nothing more. If I have to French kiss her in the interrogation room to make her talk, I will do it. A hundred times. If I have to lie and deceive, promise her I'd do everything to give us a future together, I will do it. But that will be nothing but beautiful lies, Teresa. Because my heart is already occupied. It belongs to my wife, who I've sworn to avenge. And to you, who has saved my soul. I always want you to know that. When you listen to the interviews, remember my words."
"I need to restrain your access, Jane." She whispered, but she knew she was lying as soon as the words were spoken.
"Yes," he said calmly, "but you won't do it. Because you can't bear to hurt me. You're too good for me, Teresa Lisbon. But you love me as much as I love you."
He bowed down and kissed her forehead, his lips soft and gentle against her skin.
"Please, sleep well, love," he said, "don't allow me to bother you that much. I'm not worth it."
He gave her a warm smile, almost a little shy, and turned to go.
The tension was suspended in the coolish air around them, like a flickering of light caught in time and space. She knew it would be wise to back off, just let him leave now, their feeling nothing more than a background hum. She didn't have to acknowledge them, didn't have to look their way. It might feel cowardly, but it would also be safe.
He should go now.
But she couldn't let him. She would bleed for this, would accept the hurt as a part of her life. She just couldn't let him go.
"Jane," she whispered, "don't go, please. You don't have to be alone. We both don't."
He stood absolutely still, his back to her.
"I have nothing to give you, Teresa," he said, "no hearts and flowers, no romantic promises. There's just blood and gore down my way, and believe me, what happens when I catch Red John won't be nice."
"Don't be a fool," she sighed, "I'm in this so deep I'm almost invisible. You think I can just stop loving you, Jane? Accept the feelings like a festering wound without ever touching you again? You might be a magician. I'm not. "
He turned and looked at her, and she saw the moisture in his eyes, the slight tremble of his lower lip.
"I don't want you hurt." He whispered.
"Can you let me decide that, please?" she said and grabbed his hand, pulling him inside.
The room was dark, his face drenched in shadows. She wrapped her arms around him, his body warm and solid, and he put his head on her shoulder, holding her close, his grip so firm it knocked the air out of her lungs.
She ran her fingers through his hair, felt him tense slightly before he all but melted against her, sighing softly.
When he lifted his head and looked at her, she felt hot and helpless, her hands still embedded in his lush curls. His lips claimed hers, gentle and careful this time, learning the texture of her skin as if time were infinite. His fingers roamed her body, tracing her curves, gliding under the hem of her panties.
Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, the feelings seemed too strong to cope. She felt his sadness, his regret that this could be nothing but a short moment of relief, that there were many obstacles in front of them, that more pain was waiting behind every corner.
"I wish I had met you in another world, Teresa," he whispered, "I would cherish and protect you and never cause you pain."
She smiled.
"You wouldn't be the man I was stupid enough to fall in love with then."
He kissed her again, urgently, hungry, and she matched his passion, battling his tongue with hers, sucking on its tip until he writhed with arousal. She could feel his erection hard and heavy against her stomach and shivered when she remembered how big it was, how it had made her feel full and tight, cramming every ounce of space inside her.
Her thighs clenched in anticipation.
Not taking his mouth from hers he lifted her onto his arms, pressing her tight against his body, his pulse palpable in his lips.
He climbed the stairs to her bedroom slowly, almost as if he expected to hear her protest any second, couldn't believe that she would truly keep him.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed the side of his throat, licking over his warm, clean skin. He smelled delicious, and she inhaled deeply, sighing with pleasure because being close to him was more wonderful than anything she'd ever felt in her life.
He put her down in the middle of her bed and lay down next to her, every movement careful, almost a little insecure.
She pulled her tank top over her head and wriggled out of her panties, watching his eyes going wide. She could see his hard-on tenting his pants, and a surge of red-hot arousal ran through her, making goose bumps rise on her skin.
He lay absolutely still while she unbuttoned his vest, his shirt, her fingertips brushing over his bare chest, his taut stomach. His eyes were glued to hers, bottomless and dark, starkly beautiful in their glass marble green.
She kissed his lips gently, encouragingly, and breathed a sigh of longing and relief when he turned her onto her back and covered her body with his, allowing her to slide shirt and vest off his shoulders.
She reached between them and opened his belt, the button on his pants, slowly drawing the zipper down while he showered her face with kisses, always returning to her lips after a while, pushing his tongue deep into her mouth.
Lisbon pushed his pants and underwear down with one distinct shove, and he toed off shoes and socks before he wriggled out of his grey dress slacks, finally as naked as she was.
His body touched hers everywhere, and it felt delicious, his skin hot and smooth, arms, legs and chest covered by a sparse dusting of downy blond hair. She let her hands wander wherever they wanted, and he groaned into her mouth, the sound deep and heavy, making her toes curl in need for him.
She spread her legs beneath him, felt her wet sex open up for him, his heavy erection nudging her sensitive entrance. She arched her frame, pushing her hips against his, and felt him give in with a deep moan of pleasure.
He slid his length into her, her walls slippery enough to let him inside, but he went slow, working his girth into her with infinite care. More and more inches he gave her, until she felt as if she could take no more, laden by his hard flesh, her sheath stretched as far as it could go, and still he pushed deeper, deeper, the sensations filling her up with sweet pleasure-pain. She felt the tension coiling low in her stomach as soon as he was embedded inside her to the hilt, his cock as firm and unrelenting as a pillar of heated steel.
Lisbon groaned for all she was worth, her nerves screaming, her mind silently begging him to take her hard.
"God, you drive me insane." Jane growled and pulled back almost completely only to slam back inside, the pleasure sharp enough to make her cry out. She came on his third thrust, her whole lower body clenching, the tension bursting so violently her fingertips went cold with shock.
Jane went wild, his strokes fast and hard, his hands pinning her down, holding her still while he hammered into her. Every new thrust sent flames of ecstasy through her, her body writhing in orgasm, one after the other. She was violently aroused, and her sheath couldn't stop contracting around him, all nerve endings firing while he pounded into her in a fierce, harsh rhythm.
His sweat dripped onto her face and it felt marvelous, heady and raw. She pulled his head down and licked over his damp skin, groaning when his mouth claimed hers in a frantic, ruthless kiss.
His strokes were rough and hard, and she wrapped her legs around his waist to take him as deep as possible, while he pushed his body up on his arms, heightening his momentum, every hot thrust shoving her higher on the bed. She braced her arms against the headrest and met every movement of his hips, already able to taste the next mind-blowing climax on her tongue.
Her eyes snapped open, and she looked into his eyes, molten with lust for her, deep and hypnotic. His orgasm seemed to take him by surprise, he yelled and threw his head back, and when she felt the first voluminous spurt of seed shooting into her it made her come for him yet again.
It felt painfully good, milking his cock for every drop of semen, and the sharp jerks that coursed through his frame every time he spilled more prolonged the luscious aftershocks which claimed her body.
She felt thoroughly exhausted when she came down, her fingers groping aimlessly for him, greedy to touch his skin, needing to increase the contact any way she could.
Jane clenched her tightly to him, his heat enormous, and when he finally pulled back and slid out of her, she felt cold and bereft. She sighed in relief when he lay down next to her and pulled her into his arms.
Her heart was hammering in her throat, and when she touched her fingers to his neck, she could feel his pulse flutter in the same rhythm. For a few moments, only heavy breathing could be heard.
He scooted down until they were face to face, their noses touching.
"Promise me you won't kiss her again," she whispered, "promise you'll play by the rules."
"I can't, Teresa." He said quietly, and she saw resolve and regret battle inside his eyes.
"I know." She sighed, and it was the truth. The time for illusions was over, in her life, between them. She hadn't been naïve since her mother had died. "But I had to ask anyway."
He kissed the tip of her nose, pressed a soft, smacking kiss onto her lips.
"I know." He breathed," I love you."
She nodded, and the kiss she gave him was deeper, hot and sensual, her tongue wrapping around his in a seductive caress.
"Let's take it from there then." She whispered into his mouth.
He scooted further down and put his head against her chest, and when she whispered "I love you, you idiot," she could feel his smile against her skin.
THE END
For this tag, I took the promo at face value, although I know that you should always take them with a grain of salt. Here, I just pretended to believe everything I saw… I'm thrilled to see what the show will present us with!
I'm very insecure about this, I rarely write stories which have been requested by readers, I just hope I did everything "right"-please, give me some feedback! I depend on it, and without it, I'm permanently doubting myself- you can review anonymously, it will be MUCH appreciated! THANK YOU!