They are giggling adolescents by the time they reach the landing. It has taken them an extraordinarily long time to get that far; stopping every few steps for kisses and caressing has slowed their progress. When Phryne's hand slips below the waistband of his slacks, he cannot contain a groan. With wide-eyed glee Phryne places her palm over his lips.
"We wouldn't want to scandalize Dot." She whispers, but it turns into a barely contained squeak as he laps at her hand and nips gently.
"You mean you haven't already?" He asks against her ear, tongue trailing hotly until she forgets the question. She can see her door, just a few steps ahead. But with the way his fingers brush the undersides of her breasts and his arousal presses against her backside, she has serious doubts that they'll make it that far. It seems as if his whole body is curled around her and neither of them is having any luck at managing their thoughts.
Jack is on sensory overload when they finally tumble across the threshold into her room and Phryne shuts the door behind them.
"Lock it," His voice sounds strained to his own ears and the click of the tumblers falling into place make the entire evening that much more real. He has no misgivings, only delicious anticipation.
Phryne turns and presses her back against the door, both hands behind her still on the doorknob. She is quite the picture, with her blouse hanging open, her lips swollen from their kisses, and the most dangerous look in her eyes. She has never been particularly shy about her interest in Jack. But now, with the prize so firmly in sight, she has a relentless look about her that gives him just the slightest thrill.
Phryne watches Jack closely and he feels as though she's looking into him. Her gaze is assessing and she finally tilts her head.
"I've imagined this moment." She confesses, but it sounds more like a dare. She knows she's not saying anything he hasn't already guessed.
Another opportunity presents itself and Jack takes it. "So have I." He replies gruffly. "In so many, many ways."
Her surprise is mingled with pleasure and Jack doesn't have time to brace before she's flinging herself into his arms. They tumble backwards onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and clothing and they kiss so hard their teeth clatter together.
It is as though Jack has lit her fuse and Phryne is exploding in his arms. Had she truly believed he never imagined being in her arms? Taking her to bed in this sinful room, and burying all his concerns in the warm, wet heat of her?
He was still a man, after all, something he planned to remind her of very soon.
The grappled with each other for control of the situation, as usual. Phryne may have experience on her side, but Jack is very well versed in close quarter combat and before long she is pinned against his chest, her arms secured behind her back. The smirk he gives her is reflected in the tilt of her lips and she lunges forward to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Jack cannot not help but gape at the way her breasts strain against her silk chemise and he is forced to let her go so he could reach and remove the filmy boundary.
When her breasts are finally bared for him, he can't swallow the groan of pleasure. He doesn't have a boatload of experience with breasts - although he has seen his fair share - but he believes hers to be just right. Truly, they are the perfect size and shape for his mouth, as he demonstrates by closing his lips over one nipple. Phryne laughs and tosses her head back with pleasure while encouraging Jack's exploration with a hand at the nape of his neck.
"Yes, Jack," Her whispers slide over his skin, leaving a flush of heat in their wake. He doesn't know why he finds her verbosity in bed a surprise, all things considered. But still, her words of encouragement spur him on.
She allows him his time to explore the delicate skin across her throat, in the shadow of her breasts, and even her slightly ticklish navel. He takes it slowly, laying her back amid the sea of satin bedclothes, charting the territory between her ribs. He lazily undoes the button of her trousers and she shimmies her hips to help him remove the garment, taking her smalls with it.
He stands back and his breath whooshes out in exhalation at the sight of her naked, (save for her stockings and garters and - jesus christ - her shoes) unabashed and spread like Venus. Her eyebrow tilts skyward at his plain admiration and once more she crooks a finger in his direction. He starts to pull at his limply hanging tie and unbuttoned shirt but she shakes her head.
"Leave it." She whispers and he can't suppress a shudder. Slowly he crawls until he is hovering over her, his hands holding him above her on either side of her flat stomach. He is dumb enough to look to his left and catches a glimpse of them in the mirror over her dressing table and if he was hard before, he is steel now. She is almost fully naked, writhing beneath him with a determined look in her eye. He is almost fully dressed between her thighs. It is a wanton image that he knows he will not soon forget. She clutches his hips with her strong thighs and draws him down to her, hands slipping between them to undo the fly of his trousers completely.
The facade of the seductress falters now, as hunger overtakes her carefully constructed persona. Jack can only grab at the bed sheets when he feels her hand close around his cock and free him from his pants. Having him at her mercy seems to give her a rush of confidence because she arches to nip at his chin before urging him down on top of her.
A glance into the mirror again and he is almost finished right then. Phryne follows his gaze and a delighted noise bubbles in her chest.
"Jack likes to watch." She tries to sound amused but it falls from her lips as more of a vow and then she loses the ability to speak as he starts to push inside her.
His brain goes numb momentarily at the soft heat between her thighs, still not entirely trusting that this isn't one of his spectacularly realistic dreams.
But she rises up to meet him, her hips shifting in time and he is forced to leave all coherent thoughts behind as they rock into a frenzied rhythm.
Sloppily Phryne reaches her hand to his face and turns his cheek until he meets her eyes in the mirror.
"Harder," She pleads and bites her lip, staring into the reflection of him. The prolonged eye contact quickly becomes too much and Jack buries his face between her breasts, humming against the soft skin.
Phryne hears him mumbling but cannot make out the words.
"Whaaaa…" She asks ineloquently, not quite sure how he's forming words with the way his body is moving so determinedly moving.
"I," He raises his head just a bit and punctuates his words with a solid thrust. "Love." Another. "Your." She whimpers in pleasure. "Breasts."
It takes a few more strokes for her to digest what he's said and suddenly she is giggling. For a moment Jack is taken aback - many things have happened to him with women in bed. But he hasn't yet had a woman laughing at him. Until now. He falters and Phryne responds with a gentle thwack against his butt cheek.
When she can finally catch her breath (he has lifted her hips to change the angle and put a quick stop to her laughter, something he notes with a smug smile) she closes the distance between them and sucks his lower lip into her mouth.
With one hand clutching his hips to her, the other slips between them to pluck at the nub of her clit. Her fingers brush him where they join and she can feel the tension in his body increase ten fold.
Her toes curl into the sheets and her vision blurs just before she gives in to her orgasm, allowing it to crash over her with a somewhat unexpected intensity. She is just about coherent again when she lathes her tongue over Jack's adam's apple. On a final, pained groan he spill into her and collapses, completely boneless, on top of her.
His warm weight is delicious, like a very cozy blanket, and she wants to curl beneath him for the rest of the night. But he rolls away and slides from her folds and she is instantly pouting at the cool between them. She had pegged Jack Robinson as a cuddler, something she was looking forward to.
"Don't go." The words are out before she can even think what vulnerability they give away. Jack turns to give her a strange look and then proceeds to step out of his pants.
"I'm not. I'm just…" He sheds his dress shirt, socks and shoes - he still has his shoes on? - before falling back into bed beside her. "Overdressed."
She lifts a lithe leg and her heeled shoe dangles from the toe precariously. With a wicked smile she kicks it off across the room followed quickly by the other.
"Well," she drawls, looking him up and down with a satisfied expression that he returns. She is relieved to find no trace of regret on his beautiful face and when she draws her fingers down over his lips he kisses them as they pass. "That was fun."
They're not done because you know what? Jack is a cuddler and we know Phryne likes her pillow talk. So there's that to look forward to.
I went back and forth about having them discuss birth control but I went with the headcanon that Jack knows Phryne well enough to know she's careful. But for all you kids reading (AND WHY ARE YOU DOING THAT? Get off my lawn!) - always discuss your protection. Don't make it the other person's responsibility. We are all responsible for our own bodies. I get to pretend it's a mood killer in fiction but in real life it's one of those Big Kid things you have to do. Ok? /end PSA
I recently told Fi B that I write everything based on a single mental image, or perhaps a series of them. I leave you to guess which mental image spawned this chapter. OH MAI GAWD.
