Rizzoli & Isles, M, Romance (or rather PWP smut, which is a first for me), Jane Rizzoli/Maura Isles

Disclaimer: Rizzoli & Isles, its characters, places, and situations are property of Ostar Productions, Warner Horizon Television and TNT. Credit for the original book series goes to Tess Gerritsen. This story was written for entertainment not monetary purposes. Original character, and this story, are intellectual property of the author. An similarities to existing characters, fictional or real, living or dead, are coincidental and no harm is intended.

Notes: This was written for the Third Annual Femslash Kink Meme over at Dreamwidth. The prompt was Rizzoli & Isles, Jane/Maura, ownership/marking. Hence: Pure PWP smut and also pretty OOC. But you never know, do you? I just couldn't resist to write something without a storyline of sorts for once and this is the product of two hours of not thinking too hard...

For those who might wonder: I am terribly sorry for not having updated 'Evening, kitchen' in so damn long. Ideas for that one abandoned me without warning, all that came out instead was more CSI. But I will come back to it, definitely.

This feeling

"Mine!"
Hips twisted and undulated, warm, sweaty skin clashed together, creating slick smacking sounds in rapid succession.
"You're mine!"
It was Jane's growl that got to Maura each and every single time it rasped, grated, husked its oh so very hoarse and low way out of Jane's throat.
It was Jane's hand grabbing her trapezius in a way that could hardly be described as gentle anymore from behind, the way she could not see but conjure the image up so very vividly behind her hooded eyes of the tendons in Jane's hands, the muscles in her brachioradialis, triceps, biceps, brachial and deltoid- Oh, screw that. -in Jane's arms and shoulders, sculpted, tan and mesmerising. Beautiful. Like all of Jane. How they strained and flexed every time she pushed her backwards and deeper onto the strap-on.
It was the position she was in, on her hands and knees at the edge of the bed while Jane stood behind her, not kneeled on the bed, on the same level, but stood, towering above her, that turned Maura on to no end. Sublime, powerful, so in control of every thrust, of how far she pushed Maura, when she held back to let her slither along the very edge of orgasm just to cool her back down, panting and begging, then give in to the pleas and plunge into her again. With an abandon and force that had taken the ever patient Doctor a long time and all her refinement in reassuring and affirming Jane that she could, that she was allowed to use, to be like this, that Maura would not break or splinter, that she, in fact, liked, no loved that feral side to her Detective that Jane was so insecure, so shy to let show to its full extent.

Until now.

And how Maura loved it. All that aggressive energy, the drivenness, the focus, all that skill focused solely on her. The ferocity she knew Jane carefully kept so guarded, afraid to destroy something that seemed still so new, still so delicate to her, so fragile, their relatively fresh intimate relationship. But it was unbreakable to Maura. From the very second on the scales had tipped from friends to lovers. No, even before that. And now, Jane understood.
Jane's other hand dug deep into her hip, propelling Maura back time and time again with a force that would leave bruises shaped in the form of Jane's delicate, strong fingers.
All the things Jane had thought Maura might shy away from, Maura loved. She loved the feeling of the little beads of sweat forming all over her body, some dripping onto the sheet, some pooling a bit in the small of her back, loved how Jane's hand spread them all over her back and loved how she then clawed her way down to swell of her cheeks again, the salt burning on the narrow red lines that formed in the wake of Jane's nails. Though she'd squeaked a little undignified, she loved the sting as Jane's hand had come down on her ass for the very first time. She'd moaned shamelessly with the second and third stroke, groaned wantonly at the fourth and fifth and had set her knees wider apart to allow the dildo to sink in even further and after the eighth slap Jane had to stop all her movement for almost a minute, stilling hilt-deep within Maura, who whined, having been so close.
She was not to come. Not yet. Not with what was happening tonight. Not now that Jane'd allowed herself to let go of her inhibitions.
Now she couldn't get enough of it. She basked in the tiny mewls and whimpers Maura elicited as she rotated her hips slowly and changed the angle by bending down over her girlfriend, effectively trapping the shorter woman beneath her. Jane braced herself on one arm, the other curled itself around Maura's body, pinching and twisting an erect nipple hard while she pumped slower and almost gentle. Maura twitched and trembled, caught between fleeing the pleasurable pain that seared through her entire body or begging for more, still more.
"Harder, Jane, oh please, har-der!" The decision was too easy.
Jane tweaked again and bit down on the exposed soft flesh of Maura's neck at the same time, just short of breaking the skin there before she soothed the abused spot with her lips, lavished it with her tongue and drew a wet path up to Maura's ear.
"Mine now!" She growled again, pinching the so far neglected nipple even harder than she had the other before and Maura wheezed, long and breathy.
"Yes-sss!"
Jane could've sworn at that moment she felt Maura convulse around the artificial cock, again motionless, but deep inside her girlfriend. She felt arms shake with the extended effort it took to still hold the light brunette beneath her up and Maura hesitantly beginning to rock back and forth again. So she antagonized the movement, slowly resuming her former position, nipping and biting her way down Maura's back, leaving a trail of marks on the damp porcelain skin so that the back would match the front and the patterns Jane had painted on there with her mouth and teeth earlier, until she stood tall again, this time with both her hands on Maura's hips, increasing the speed, depth and force of her thrusts.
Maura burned. Her muscles burned, so did the bite and claw marks all over her body, her left butt-cheek and ultimately, her mind was set on fire. For once, she didn't think, didn't analyse, didn't deconstruct the moment into bite-sized, explainable actions and reactions. She just felt and her last grasp onto her sanity evaporated as she felt Jane's fingers suddenly circling and rubbing her clit and the strap-on almost hitting her cervix in Jane's now frantic, staccato thrusts that only knew one goal, finally.
Don't stop, don't stop, don't ever stop...
She didn't scream Jane's name, though she screamed, hoarse, voice breaking and so vulnerable, so complete and so free.
"Yours!"

Thanks for reading! And reviews are, of course, very welcome.