An Investigation Interrupted

"Lucien, this is ridiculous," Jean complained. "We've been here over an hour already. It's getting late, and I'm rather sure he's gone to bed."

"Just a little while longer, my darling," he insisted rather patronizingly. Lucien put his hand on top of her knee, patting her leg comfortingly.

Jean just sighed in annoyance. They were sitting in his car in a dark alley across the street from a suspect's house. Lucien was absolutely certain that he could catch Bruce McCullough in the act of covering up for the murder of his brother. Jean rather agreed with him, which was why she'd volunteered to accompany him when Matthew had explained that the police just did not have the resources to put a tail on McCullough all day every day on the off chance he revealed himself. Of course Lucien immediately took matters into his own hands. And Jean, never one to want to be left out and no longer content to be left home alone while her husband was out and about, had quite enjoyed the opportunity to go on investigations with him.

This time, however, they'd spent all day following McCullough from his work to his home, and he'd done absolutely nothing of note. And at this point, Jean was exceedingly bored of the whole thing.

But Lucien was undeterred. He had his hand on her knee, lazily stroking her leg over her stockings, his fingers making random patterns on her thigh. She'd found that he often did things like this when he wasn't thinking about it, always reaching out to touch her. But even after so long together, Jean hadn't quite gotten used to it, the casual tactile nature of this husband of hers. It had taken quite a while to understand and to feel comfortable with; his touch never failed to inspire something in her, whether it be affectionate comfort or powerful lust. And right now, it was quite the latter.

Lucien just kept watching McCullough's house. He clearly had no idea what he was doing to Jean, what her bored mind and hungry body were doing in reaction to his touch. Shivers and electric jolts emanated from where his fingers rubbed absent circles on her thigh. If only he would slide his hand up a bit higher, under her skirt and up to where she needed him most. If only he'd use his free hand to pull her into his lap and kiss her and make love to her. If only she could have him right here and now.

Jean swallowed hard, trying to get rid of her dry mouth. "Lucien," she began, noticing the way her voice was hoarse and wavering. "Lucien, can't we go home, please? Before someone sees us?"

"No one will see us, Jean, so long as we're quiet and keep to the shadows here," he replied, not even bothering to look over at her.

And something in her, something deep in her soul urged on by wetness pooling between her legs, something in Jean snapped. She slid across the bench seat of the car and threw her arms around Lucien's neck, dragging him into a fiery kiss.

Lucien pulled away almost immediately. "Jean!" he yelped in surprise.

"I need you," she whispered against his mouth. Jean returned to kissing him messily. This time, Lucien participated quite fully, slotting his mouth over hers and letting his tongue surge into her mouth. All thoughts of Bruce McCullough flew right out of his mind.

Jean reached into Lucien's lap and fumbled with his belt buckle and the zip on his trousers. He was already started to get hard. She had been completely unable to ignore the tingling heat between her thighs and the tension in her belly, coiling with want for him as he touched her.

Lucien pulled away so he could move away from the steering wheel. He then grabbed her to straddle him. As he kissed and nipped at her neck, his hands found purchase on her bum, grinding her against him.

"Oh god, Lucien, please," she moaned.

"Tell me what you want, Jean," he whispered in her ear.

"I want you deep inside me." Her voice was clear and confident, strained only by her own arousal and heavy breathing.

Lucien groaned, never more turned on than he was now, pawing at his wife in the front seat of the car. He felt like they were hormonal teenagers, unable to keep their hands off each other. But Lucien Blake had a miraculously beautiful and sensual wife who somehow wanted him as much as he so desperately wanted her.

He wasted no time in taking his throbbing cock out of his shorts. Jean started to stroke him slowly, rubbing her palm over the head and shaft. Lucien couldn't wait any longer for her. He hiked her skirt up to her waist and ripped her knickers off, tossing them to the floor of the car. Jean raised herself up on her knees. He teased her for a moment, rubbing his tip against her folds, spreading the wetness around before plunging inside her. He spread his legs out against the brake pedal to allow him to thrust into her over and over and over.

Jean emitted moans and muffled screams as she rocked and gyrated against him in time to his movements. She sucked hard on his neck, biting down as he found the spot inside her, exactly where she needed him. "Yes, Lucien, right there," she instructed breathlessly.

And he did as he was told. He held tight to her hips as he pounded into her. Lucien had to grit his teeth as he tried to stave off his own release so she could find hers first. He needed to feel her and hear her. Thankfully, he didn't need to wait long. That loud hum and breathy moan followed by her walls clenching around him. Almost immediately, Lucien came inside her.

As they both returned to earth and regained their breathing, they remained exactly as they were. Jean on top of Lucien, holding him close. He was going soft inside her but he couldn't bear to let her leave him just yet.

"Oh my god, I love you," she murmured in his ear.

He grinned and kissed her jaw. "Let's go home."

She giggled slightly against his neck. "Was this all it took to get you to give up this stakeout?"

His laughter joined hers. "Oh, my darling, I will make love to you anywhere and any way you want."

"Maybe we can try it in our bed," she suggested.

Lucien hummed happily, pressing more kisses to her lovely face. "Maybe we can." Her confidence in him was perhaps a bit unrealistic, but he had plenty of other ways to please her. After almost a year of marriage, he'd learned quite a bit about his Jean and what she liked. And more than anything, he found she liked quite a bit. All of which he was quite pleased to provide.

Jean clambered back to her place on the seat as they both put themselves back together, her ruined knickers shoved into her purse as Lucien started the car. She grinned, pleased with herself and eager to go home. She would join him on his investigation of Bruce McCullough tomorrow, but for now, Lucien would join her back in bed and make love to her until sated sleep claimed them both.