Chapter Fourteen – That Could Get Addictive
Saving Abel - Addicted
For a miracle, no one interrupted them as they headed down the corridor. But then it was about three in the morning and Jemma supposed they were all asleep. She should be tired too, but the very touch of Remy's hands on her skin was making her feel energised – alive and awake, and frantic for him to touch her. She planted kisses across his neck and jaw as he carried her, ran her hands eagerly over his exposed chest and shoulders.
"Witch," Remy groaned, setting her against the door of her room, pushing her back against it, caging her in with his arms and body. "You have put a spell on me, Jemma – I can think of nothing but you, of having you again… peux-tu sentir combien tu m'excites? Do you feel that, how much I need you?"
She certainly could feel that. He'd slid her down his body and she had literally hung up on his arousal, pressing hard against her groin and holding her off her feet, thickly swollen even under the denim of his jeans.
"Please," Jemma whimpered. "Please, Remy, I want you so much, please…" she put a hand down, scrabbled frantically for the door handle, trusting him to catch her as the door swung open. He did, of course, easily holding her to him, kicking the door shut behind them as he stepped inside. The moment he set her on her feet, Jemma whipped her sweater off over her head, revealing that she hadn't bothered to put on a bra when she changed out of her wet clothes earlier.
"Jemma, mon Dieu!" Remy's eyes widened, began to burn with that familiar red flame. "So beautiful," he marvelled, his big hands reaching out, tracing gently over her breasts. And then something occurred to him. "Are you wearing any underwear?" His hands slid down to her waist, plucked lightly at the waistband of her trousers.
"That's for me to know and you to find out," Jemma said teasingly, backing towards the bed.
"Oh, I'm going to find out, ma belle. I still haven't seen my words on you." He stalked after her, feline in his grace, a predator on the prowl. Not that Jemma was making any effort whatsoever to escape. She backed up until she felt her knees hit the edge of the mattress and waited for him to come to her. As Remy reached her, she sat down on the bed and reached for his belt.
"You'll have to wait. I want a turn first." She unbuckled his belt swiftly, flicked the buttons of his jeans open. Thankful for her medical training and the time she'd spent learning how to most efficiently remove clothes, as she easily stripped them down to his thighs.
Remy let out a low groan as Jemma's slim, clever fingers wrapped around his cock. She used both hands, tugging lightly until he stepped closer, standing between her parted knees. She looked up at him mischievously, a slight grin curling her mouth, before she leaned in and licked delicately over the swollen, purple head of his cock, even as both her hands moved, one sliding down to trace her fingernails lightly over his balls, the other wrapping around the base of his shaft and pumping slowly.
"Jemma," he whispered her name softly, reaching down and cupping her jaw gently in his hand. She opened her mouth and slid it slowly down over him, flicking her tongue into the leaking slit at his tip, and then bobbed her head, moving both her hands in time with her mouth. It was by a huge effort of will that he managed not to thrust into her hot, welcoming mouth. Instead he stroked his fingertips lightly under her jaw, feeling her throat working as she sucked him deeper for a moment.
Remy was certainly well-endowed, but he was being a gentleman, letting her control how much of him she took in, which Jemma certainly appreciated.
"Arrêtez," he said suddenly, "stop, Jemma." He pulled back gently against the grip she had on his cock, and she reluctantly let him slip out of her mouth.
"What?"
"Good though you are with that pretty mouth," he stooped to kiss her, and then pushed her gently to lie down on the bed, "it's not where I want to come tonight."
"Oh!" she blinked, and then laughed. "You weren't that close…"
"I was about five seconds from spilling down your throat." He knelt above her, reached to slip her yoga pants down. Jemma lifted her hips obligingly, and Remy sucked in a breath as he saw her, because she was indeed completely nude beneath the loose pants. "Beautiful, so beautiful," he muttered thickly, sliding his fingers up the inside of her thigh – and then he saw it, right at the edge of her bikini line.
"Ah, there they are!" You have a lovely voice, chère. "Wow, was I really that cheesy? What a terrible pick-up line."
"You've spent twenty-seven years living with the words of a Kenny Rogers song on your arm, I am in no position to complain," Jemma said with a soft laugh that trailed off into a moan as he traced his fingers lightly over the inky lettering and then past, up into slick folds.
"A friend of mine thought it was an actual tattoo," Remy told her, "because I like to play cards. It seemed very appropriate."
"Nnnn," was about all Jemma could manage in response to that as he slid two long fingers deep inside her, crooking them expertly and circling his thumb over her clit.
"I'm glad your mark on me is where I see it all the time," Remy whispered, bending over her to kiss her breasts, flick her nipples with his tongue. "I can't think of anything but you in that red dress, singing to me, every time I look at it now. So fucking beautiful. Couldn't believe that I could be so lucky."
Jemma gasped and moaned as Remy caressed her expertly, his mouth hot as he alternated between her breasts, never neglecting one for long, all the while that wicked, clever hand stroking, chafing, urging her steadily towards orgasm.
"Remy," she cried out suddenly. "Oh God, please – there!"
"That's it," he whispered, rubbing a little faster. "Want to see you come, mon amour…" He leaned up to watch her face, and wasn't disappointed, as her mouth opened, plush lips parting to let out a low, keening cry, her eyes closing and her head tilting back. She clamped down on his fingers, sleek internal muscles rippling and tremoring as further juices flooded over his hand.
"So fucking beautiful," Remy murmured, awed. He kept stroking gently, moving up the bed to kiss Jemma tenderly until she sighed and went limp, lifting a shaking hand to push at his wrist.
"Too much. Please."
He took his hand away, knowing she'd need a few moments to come back down, and rolled to sit upright, tugging off his boots and the remainder of his clothes before lying back down and pulling Jemma into his arms. She rested her head on his muscular shoulder with a sigh of contentment, but it wasn't long before her hand started trailing lightly over his body, exploring the ridges and hollows of his chest and stomach muscles.
Remy said nothing, just stroked her back with the arm he'd curled underneath her, letting her explore him as much as she liked, even though the light touches were driving him wild, and it had to have been evident to her because his cock was fully erect, flushed and bobbing lightly against his stomach as he sucked in shaky breaths.
"Shall we do something about this?" Jemma asked finally, passing her hand over his arousal in one long, soft stroke from root to tip. Remy let out a moan and she did it again.
"Need you," he ground out. "Jemma, please!"
"I'm yours," she kissed his chest, open-mouthed, licking over one hard male nipple. "However you want me, Remy."
He groaned at the offer; she likely had no idea of some of the things he wanted to do to her! Nevertheless, he reached a shaking hand for the bedside drawer and grabbed a condom. She took it from him and rolled it on with clever fingers; by the time she had him sheathed he was shuddering and clutching at the sheet beneath him with clawed fingers.
"Remy?" Jemma whispered as he stilled.
"I'm about to be a really possessive asshole," he warned, opening his eyes and looking at her. She wished she could read his expressions by his eyes; about all she could tell was that the brighter the red colour burned, the more aroused – or angered – he was.
"Thanks for the warning?" she gave him a little smile, and then squeaked as he moved with superhuman speed, pressing her down to her back and kneeling between her thighs, taking both her hands in one of his big ones and holding them above her head.
"I want to fuck you hard," Remy growled, "I want to pound you into this mattress until you're screaming my name. Make it so good for you that you'll never think of any other man…"
"Shut up and do it, Remy!" Unbearably turned on by his words – even though he was being possessive – Jemma hooked her heels behind his thighs and tugged frantically, desperate to have him inside her.
With her knees up like that, she was beautifully open to him. Remy didn't even need to use his free hand to guide himself in; he braced it on the mattress instead and kissed Jemma hungrily as he slid slowly home.
"Tu es tellement serré," he groaned, "so tight, Jemma, c'est si bon, ahhh!" It was a deep groan as his chest as he bottomed out, filling her completely, and he stilled for a moment.
Jemma arched under him, pushing her breasts up into his chest. "Move, Remy!" she begged breathily, "please – please move!" She tried to roll her hips, but he had his whole bodyweight pushing her down, and she could barely wiggle them, even tightening her legs around his hips didn't create any of the friction she so desperately wanted.
"Attendez," he gasped, eyes squeezed tightly shut, "wait – Jemma, wait a moment. I'm not going to last long, I need to bring you in first…"
It seemed an odd choice of words, but then Jemma saw a faint violet glow begin to appear on his skin, felt a warmth begin to build as it slowly seeped through her. It was an amazing, indescribable feeling – Jemma tried to analyse it so she could take notes later, her scientific brain ever at work – but then Remy started to move inside her and she forgot everything but how utterly wonderful that felt.
He released her hands, braced both of his on the mattress beside her head for better leverage, and began to fuck her in earnest, making good on his promise of pounding her into the mattress. And Jemma loved every minute of it, running her hands down his back to grip onto his lean hips, angling her hips so that every long stroke hit with maximum impact.
Remy closed his eyes, hating to block out the sight of Jemma writhing and moaning beneath him, but knowing at the moment of orgasm his eyes would flare incandescently. He'd terrified more than one poor woman out of her wits before he learned that lesson. Besides, without his sight all other sensations were magnified. He could feel how close Jemma was to another climax, feel the tiny fluttering pulses around him as he pumped hard, feel her panting breaths against his throat, the very slight pain as she dug her nails into his hips, encouraging him on, the brush of her hard nipples against his chest.
"Jemma," Remy groaned, driven well past the point of no return. He could feel the prickling, tightening sensation in his balls, feel them pulling up to his body, ready for release. "Oh, Jemma, je jouis…"
She let out a guttural sort of howl, hips bucking up, the wet passage he'd been sliding in so easily suddenly clenching around him, and Remy lost it completely, exploding in a hot, frantic rush, buried to the hilt in his soulmate's welcoming heat.
They stayed locked together, both shaking with the aftermath, for several minutes, and then Remy began to press soft kisses against Jemma's neck and cheek. She groaned, unlocked her ankles from behind his back, and he eased from her slowly, causing a couple of gasps of reaction as her internal muscles reacted involuntarily.
"So good." Remy kissed her once more, clambered off the bed and headed for the bathroom. Jemma stayed where she was, blissfully relaxed – although not tired at all, her brain wide awake and her body fizzing with that bubbly, caffeinated feeling again.
"That could probably get addictive," Jemma said aloud.
"Hm, what's that?" Remy came back in, slipped into bed beside her, pulling the covers over them both. "You could get addicted to sex with me? I certainly hope so, chère," he grinned, leaning over to kiss her.
"Not that. Well, yes, that too," Jemma amended, seeing his surprised and slightly hurt look. "The energy thing. It feels like – champagne bubbles and caffeine. Like floating."
Remy went very still beside her, and she turned her head to look at him. "What?"
"It doesn't hurt?"
"No – isn't that why you said you had to share the energy field with me? Because otherwise it would hurt?"
"Otherwise it would hurt a lot," Remy amended. "It's – other women have described it to me," he gave her an apologetic look, "as okay at first, indeed quite nice, but very quickly it starts to feel uncomfortable, like an itch under the skin, all over. Same as if I heal someone by putting the energy into them so that their body can heal itself – you know how a wound itches when it heals? It feels like that, I believe."
Jemma thought about that, rolling to her front and leaning her chin on her hands, propped on his chest. He looked away sheepishly, though he did put his arm around her, resting it lightly in the small of her back.
"Oh stop it, I'm not going to get jealous about women in your past, I already told you that. You better be careful now, though," she narrowed her eyes at him. "I was about ready to scratch poor Anna-Marie's eyes out for what I thought I saw."
"I know, and I'm sorry," Remy apologised again. "Anna-Marie is right in that I've never really had to worry about how my actions could look to other people."
"I know, and I get it. I'm sorry too, Remy, I should have trusted you and not jumped to conclusions. All I've been getting for the last few days is warnings to be careful about how quickly I give my heart to you."
"Mine is already yours," he said quietly, "but your team are right. You should be cautious around me. I'm a lot to take."
"You certainly are," she couldn't resist the lascivious tease, wiggling her hip against his groin. Her eyes widened with surprise as she felt him begin to harden again. "What, already?"
"I'm sure Coulson showed you my file – didn't you pay attention?" Remy grinned. "Superior strength and dexterity, apparently limitless endurance… didn't you think about what that might mean, chère?"
Jemma hadn't. She really hadn't. But she certainly wasn't protesting as he slid his fingers into her hair and pulled her face gently up to his so he could kiss her again.
Peux-tu sentir combien tu m'excites? – can you feel how much you turn me on?
mon Dieu – my God
ma belle – my beauty
Arrêtez – stop
mon amour – my love
Tu es tellement serré – you're so tight
c'est si bon – that's so good
Attendez – wait
je jouis – I'm coming (yes, that kind of coming)
Lucky, lucky Jemma.
Just sayin'.