Author's Note: A little later than I planned - sorry, guys!
I'm so lucky that this man loves me.
As Kurt finished up massaging the backs of her thighs, Jane wasn't sure if she could move—not because she was in pain, but because she was so relaxed. She was under no illusions that she wouldn't still be a little stiff and sore in the morning, but for now, the only tension held within her was purely sexual.
"You're running out of places to massage."
Kurt leaned over and nuzzled her neck. "You think so?" He kissed a path down her spine, all the way to her tailbone, then sat up. "Turn over."
Jane rolled over and gazed up at him, wishing she could summon the energy to sit up and kiss him. Despite the fact that she knew him better than she knew anyone else—maybe even with herself included—he looked a little mysterious in the candlelight, light and shadows playing across his face.
He warmed another small puddle of oil between his hands before laying them on her abs, then gliding them up to just below her breasts. Jane slid her own, oil-free hands up his forearms, just for the joy of being able to touch him. "How much longer are you gonna keep teasing me?"
Kurt smiled. "Where's the fun in telling you that?"
Jane gave him a pleading look, and after a minute or so more he gave in, massaging up over her breasts before teasing her nipples with slick fingers. Yes…finally… She arched against his touch, then rose up on one elbow for long enough to slide her hand to the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss her.
He followed her down to the bed, his lips betraying the need behind what had seemed like endless patience. Supporting his weight on one arm, he continued to massage the oil into her breasts with his other hand as she met his fervent kisses with her own.
When he began to kiss and lick his way down to her nipples, her heart skipped. She loved his touch, but there was something about having his mouth on her that she found powerfully erotic. As he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, then gently bit down, she ran her fingers through his close-cut hair, her anticipation growing.
"You taste so good. Maybe I should just lick all the places I've already done, make sure I didn't miss a spot."
"Trust me. You missed a spot," Jane told him pointedly, and he laughed against her breast, his amused eyes meeting hers as he continued to cover her chest with open-mouthed kisses.
"I didn't mention this oil isn't meant to go there?" he asked, his fingers trailing suggestively down her lower abdomen.
Jane couldn't help an involuntary noise of frustration. After all this build-up? "Kurt…"
He sat up, leaving her a little confused for a second, but when he took something else out of the nightstand drawer, her pulse spiked.
"That's what this is for," he told her, holding up another small bottle.
She watched while he cleaned the rest of the oil from his hands, then tipped a little of whatever was in the new bottle into his palm. "Gonna tell me what that is?"
"Something that is meant to go here." He dipped his hand between her thighs, slowly massaging the slippery lubricant over the whole area.
Jane let her eyes flutter closed, enjoying his touch and moaning softly when he reached her clit. Kurt kept her wanting, continuing to kiss across and down her abdomen while he used his thumbs to alternately excite and frustrate her.
"Please," she begged. "It's been so long already. I want—"
She forgot how to form words as Kurt finally pulled her legs over his shoulders, then dipped his head between her thighs for a long, slow taste. His mouth felt amazing against her sensitive clit, and she half-moaned his name, pressing up against his tongue.
How could he be so impatient while they were working cases, yet so willing to spend what seemed like an infinite amount of time on her pleasure? She was already so relaxed that the orgasm that began to build felt different, somehow. Her body wasn't coiling up the way it usually did, yet the intensity was still rising, making her gasp and writhe.
Kurt slid a finger inside her, then a second, and she tilted her hips in the same rhythm as his shallow strokes over her sweet spot. Everything felt almost too much, the sensation concentrated and overwhelming.
"Oh, god, I can't…" she said, but Kurt didn't stop, increasing his pace as her thighs began to shake.
Dimly, she realised she was crying out, wordless noises of hedonistic pleasure that she couldn't stop from tearing from her throat. How did this feel so good when she was hardly tense at all?
Suddenly, her whole body was arching with an intense orgasm, pleasure rippling over her skin and making her clench inside in deep, shuddering pulses. It kept going long after she'd expected it to stop, even as Kurt took off his underwear, moved up and into her, then cut off her moans with a hard, hungry kiss.
Jane wrapped her arms and legs around him, still high on the sensations he'd provoked within her. "Fuck me, Kurt," she whispered in his ear, and he slammed into her harder, faster, taking what he needed from her as her world tipped into another wave of heated pleasure.
It took them long, lazy moments to collect themselves afterwards. "Can't move," Jane murmured, as he settled himself more comfortably beside her.
"You don't have to." He kissed her shoulder, then licked it. "Mmm…you still taste like chocolate-covered strawberries."
"Love you," she told him, her brain fuzzy and exhausted.
If he replied, she didn't register it, the relaxation from her massage and the orgasms tugging her down into sleepy oblivion.
Kurt pulled on some sweatpants and a T-shirt quietly, then checked Jane was properly covered with a blanket before he left the bedroom. If she didn't get some decent rest now, after hours of exercise, a hot bath, a massage and sex, he didn't think anything short of heavy-duty sleeping pills would work. Jane was adamant she couldn't take sleeping medication in case Sandstorm called her in at short notice, and as much as he hated to admit it, her mission was too important to risk her slipping up while half-sedated.
It was still only about six in the evening, and he considered leaving Jane a note and going back to the NYO to make amends with Pellington. Then he remembered the state she'd been in last night, when she'd sleepwalked halfway across the apartment before he'd woken to her yelling in Bulgarian, English, and another language he hadn't quite managed to identify. She wasn't getting any better, and he cursed Keaton for the millionth time for making her relapse.
A few hours later, coming up on ten p.m., he heard the familiar beeping of the pager Roman used to contact Jane, and swore under his breath. He got up from the couch and headed into the bedroom, where Jane was pushing her hair back off her forehead, staring sleepily down at the small electronic device in her lap.
"Hey," he said softly. "They calling you in?"
"At this time of night, probably setting a time for a meet tomorrow. I need to get down to the payphone to be sure which." She got out of bed, flinching a little as her overworked muscles protested. Even after all the precautions they'd taken to ease her aches and pains, she'd probably be sore for a couple of days.
"Roman picks his moments," Kurt muttered.
Jane got out of bed and headed over to the drawer he'd cleared out so she'd have room for her clothes. "Hey, at least I slept for about four hours."
"You probably would have managed another four if he hadn't woken you."
Jane finished dressing, then stretched her arms up over her head, yawning. "I might still manage it, if I don't have to go anywhere tonight. But if I don't come back from the payphone within a few minutes, assume that Roman was nearby and picked me up."
He pulled her into a hug as she approached the bedroom door, holding on for long moments. "Stay safe," he told her. "I love you."
She smiled and gave him a quick kiss. "It's probably for tomorrow. Don't worry. But I love you, too."
After she left, Kurt paced the apartment restlessly, hating the helplessness that always took over when Jane had to go undercover without him. When she came back in, he tried not to make his sigh of relief too obvious. "What did he want?"
"Shepherd wants me to go to the compound tomorrow after work." Jane kicked off her shoes again, then went to grab a glass of water from the kitchen. "It'll be the first time since I let Cade escape. I hope she's in a better mood by now."
Kurt nodded. "Did Roman say anything else?"
"Just wanted to know how I was sleeping. I think he really does worry about me." She shook her head, a little perplexed. "Things were a lot simpler when I thought I had no family."
Even with his own conflicted emotions around his father, Kurt couldn't imagine how complicated things were for her now. "You hungry? You slept through dinner."
"I'll grab a sandwich or something," Jane said, glancing towards the refrigerator.
"Sit down. I'll make it."
"Kurt…" Despite the token protest, she sat down at the breakfast bar, smiling a little.
"So before the pager woke you, were you sleeping okay? No nightmares?"
"No nightmares," she confirmed, watching him take ingredients out of the refrigerator and begin to prepare a sandwich for her. "Though who knows? Roman might have woken me up just in time to avoid one."
Kurt hesitated, not wanting to make her more stressed, but wanting to offer support, somehow. "I know you're talking to Borden…but if you want to talk to me about what happened in Bulgaria, or in Oregon, or with Cade…"
He trailed off, reading the flat refusal in her face. She was shutting him out again—she'd take practical support from him, and lean on him in a crisis, but when she was calm, she refused all emotional support.
"It's okay. Borden will be back after the weekend. And really, talking about it is only half of the therapy. The rest of it, I have to work through in my own head."
"You don't think I can help with that?" He put her sandwich on a plate and slid it over to her, then started making a smaller one for himself with the leftovers.
"Kurt…" Jane looked up at him, her expression conflicted. "I know you hate not being able to help. But talking to Borden is hard enough, and he's completely unconnected to the situation. I know you still feel guilty about Keatontaking me from your custody, and I just want to spare you the details, okay?"
Oh, Jane…
"Whatever you feel most comfortable with," he said, taking her hand across the breakfast bar. "But don't shut me out just because you think I can't handle it. I already have a pretty good idea about what happened, from what I saw in Oregon after you escaped. I'm here for you."
She gave him a forlorn smile. "I know you are. I promise. And you make me stronger just by being with me. I know you think you're not doing enough to help me, but Kurt… I couldn't ask for a more supportive partner. Thank you."
He wished he could see it in the same light she did. Jane didn't seem to believe she deserved much sympathy or understanding at all, so of course what he did manage to give her was above her expectations. But he should be able to do more. He needed to do more.
But she needed him to back off, and that was more important. He just hoped that the PTSD and the ongoing stress of the Sandstorm operation weren't more than she could handle, because he was almost certain that if things got too much for her, she would never admit it.
Author's Note: I'm starting to feel like this story is beginning to drag, so I'm working towards the end fairly steadily now - first the Borden's-a-mole reveal, then a Sandstorm showdown. :) And that'll be about it for this fic! Which is great, because I have another two million fic ideas to concentrate on after I finish this one (and hopefully none of them will be this long).