It concerns Jack's "Teri speech" to Nina in episode 8 S2.
It deals with what was on Nina's mind when she seemed not to listen and had this blank expression.
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" Sunday, before you killed my wife..."
She didn't need to hear this ,she didn't want to.
The veil descended over her mind separating her from reality. She still heard him talking, but the words, their meaning, were lost.
She only acknowledged the timbre, the "feel" of his voice - vibrating, thick, dark, velvet sliding right into women's core...and her soul entered memory lanes that seemed long forgotten...His voice was one of the things that first attracted her to him.
The affair happened so naturally, she let him in ,in emotional and physical sense not because it was useful or because of sheer desire, she let it happen because she wanted it with her entire being. She wanted it on every level, intellectual, emotional and physical.
After their first time they lay breathlessly on their backs, the sides of their arms, hips and thighs still touching, their hands still clasped.
She listened to his slowing breathing, the smile on her face fighting with tears, emotions overcoming her - she has never felt this way before, this was good, life was good, no harm could come to her. The past was distant, future didn't exist, there was only now.
He has never made her feel like "the other woman", the mistress, temporary pleasure and escape.
In his integrity he treated her like other human being, like a woman, like friend and lover.
He was never rough with her (although sometimes she secretly wanted it )he was always tender and gentle in his passion, the danger that ran trough his veins ,only a murmur then.
He once even told her that he feared he could break her in two if he wasn't careful enough, that to him her body was like rare and beautiful but delicate and fragile porcelain. (She could only smile inwardly at this, knowing how hard she really was.)
All was good, and in her heart, emotion never present before, started it's reign.
"Nina..."his voice came to her from distant reality,only this single word recognizable.
Yes, his voice...Sometimes during their lovemaking, when she was almost climaxing, and he was still 'behind' her, she begged him to talk to her.
It wasn't important what he was saying, there was only the pleasure burning between her thighs and this liquid, velvet sound flowing into her mind.
And when he couldn't talk anymore, she listened in her post-coital haze to his ragged breathing and a few quiet, growling moans of ecstasy which always were bringing her almost back on the verge of orgasm.
It was her weakness, but she knew his as well.
She knew that his inner wrists, places where flesh is soft and tender, where pulse beats just under skin, were very sensitive spots for him.
She discovered it once, when in passion she kissed his palm, went further, and when her lips, hot and wet touched his wrist and inner forearm, she heard his sharp intake of breath, felt him stiffen and then tremble slightly as if electrical current just ran trough his arm.
She lifted her gaze up to his face, her lips never leaving his skin, tongue licking delicately over tendons in his wrist.
She saw him closing his eyes, eyelashes fluttering, pale lips parting slightly and expression of great pleasure softening his features.
She made a mental note of this discovery and wondered if his wife knew about this...
His wife...
So, it didn't last long ,with time he became distant trying to go back to her, to his family.
And it hurt, it hurt more than she could ever imagine, because for the first time she experienced what it's like to have love that is real, and to loose it.
And then the assignment came...and it all had to be done...
"I just wanted you to know that." His last words reached her and she stared into his cold eyes, her own face emotionless, unreadable mask.
It deals with what was on Nina's mind when she seemed not to listen and had this blank expression.
***********************************************************************
" Sunday, before you killed my wife..."
She didn't need to hear this ,she didn't want to.
The veil descended over her mind separating her from reality. She still heard him talking, but the words, their meaning, were lost.
She only acknowledged the timbre, the "feel" of his voice - vibrating, thick, dark, velvet sliding right into women's core...and her soul entered memory lanes that seemed long forgotten...His voice was one of the things that first attracted her to him.
The affair happened so naturally, she let him in ,in emotional and physical sense not because it was useful or because of sheer desire, she let it happen because she wanted it with her entire being. She wanted it on every level, intellectual, emotional and physical.
After their first time they lay breathlessly on their backs, the sides of their arms, hips and thighs still touching, their hands still clasped.
She listened to his slowing breathing, the smile on her face fighting with tears, emotions overcoming her - she has never felt this way before, this was good, life was good, no harm could come to her. The past was distant, future didn't exist, there was only now.
He has never made her feel like "the other woman", the mistress, temporary pleasure and escape.
In his integrity he treated her like other human being, like a woman, like friend and lover.
He was never rough with her (although sometimes she secretly wanted it )he was always tender and gentle in his passion, the danger that ran trough his veins ,only a murmur then.
He once even told her that he feared he could break her in two if he wasn't careful enough, that to him her body was like rare and beautiful but delicate and fragile porcelain. (She could only smile inwardly at this, knowing how hard she really was.)
All was good, and in her heart, emotion never present before, started it's reign.
"Nina..."his voice came to her from distant reality,only this single word recognizable.
Yes, his voice...Sometimes during their lovemaking, when she was almost climaxing, and he was still 'behind' her, she begged him to talk to her.
It wasn't important what he was saying, there was only the pleasure burning between her thighs and this liquid, velvet sound flowing into her mind.
And when he couldn't talk anymore, she listened in her post-coital haze to his ragged breathing and a few quiet, growling moans of ecstasy which always were bringing her almost back on the verge of orgasm.
It was her weakness, but she knew his as well.
She knew that his inner wrists, places where flesh is soft and tender, where pulse beats just under skin, were very sensitive spots for him.
She discovered it once, when in passion she kissed his palm, went further, and when her lips, hot and wet touched his wrist and inner forearm, she heard his sharp intake of breath, felt him stiffen and then tremble slightly as if electrical current just ran trough his arm.
She lifted her gaze up to his face, her lips never leaving his skin, tongue licking delicately over tendons in his wrist.
She saw him closing his eyes, eyelashes fluttering, pale lips parting slightly and expression of great pleasure softening his features.
She made a mental note of this discovery and wondered if his wife knew about this...
His wife...
So, it didn't last long ,with time he became distant trying to go back to her, to his family.
And it hurt, it hurt more than she could ever imagine, because for the first time she experienced what it's like to have love that is real, and to loose it.
And then the assignment came...and it all had to be done...
"I just wanted you to know that." His last words reached her and she stared into his cold eyes, her own face emotionless, unreadable mask.