They slumped against the wall, both breathing heavily and feeling a little stunned. His arm stung like hell.
"Are you all right?" he asked between breaths.
Phryne nodded, "Are you?"
"I am fine," he nodded, feeling a smile tugging at his lips.
She frowned at him and he huffed out a laugh. Sure, they were stuck in what appeared to be a cellar, and he was hurt and exhausted. But he was alive.
She shook her head with a smile, "You are a never-ending source of mystery, Jack Robinson."
He laughed again and then leaned over and kissed her quickly on the lips. Obviously surprised at first, she didn't respond, but when he went to pull away, her hand clasped the back of his neck and drew him back to her. She kissed him roughly, her breath still a little short, and his hand gripped her thigh as he moved closer. A desperate rush of need streaked through him, making his body shiver, and he felt her quivering muscles under his hand.
It felt so good to be touching someone, anyone; to have human contact again. His heart hammered in his chest and his shallow breaths were loud in the eerie silence that had descended around them. He knew she had come to help him, and he had pushed her away. He shuddered to think what would have happened if she had actually listened to him when he asked her to leave…
He quickly shoved that thought to the back of his mind as he lightly nipped at her lower lip. His hands gripped her hips and they maneuvered themselves until she was lying beneath him. Luckily, Phryne was providing enough of a distraction to keep his mind off their now precarious situation, her legs wrapped around his waist, making him moan as her pelvis rubbed against him. Needing to breathe, he trailed kisses along her jaw and down to her neck, suckling on her skin and feeling a racing pulse beneath his lips.
"Jack," she gasped, tightening her thighs around his hips and scratching her nails lightly over the nape of his neck. Then her hands cupped his head and she drew his face to hers, her cerulean eyes burning into his. "You saved my life," she whispered, a faint smile on her lips as she gently massaged his scalp.
"There is nothing I wouldn't do for you, Phryne," he shrugged his shoulders, and regretted it instantly as the movement sent a jolt of pain through his arm. He growled, sitting back on his heels and ignoring the sharp pain in his arm as he moved.
He grabbed hold of her pants, quickly popped open the buttons, and, with one hand on either side, gave a quick tug, pulling them and her knickers down as far as he could. She helpfully raised her knees and pulled them all the way down to her ankles, then placed her feet flat on the ground and let her knees fall apart. Smirking at her, he licked his lips, shifted backwards and lowered his head, sliding his arms under her thighs and sweeping his tongue over her clit.
"Oh god," she choked out, back arching off the ground and her hands gripping his hair. He didn't waste any time, just focused his tongue on her tight bundle of nerves and moved with just the right pace and pressure to have her gasping his name, her breathing erratic and her fingers clutching his unruly locks.
Her thighs trembled by his ears and when he felt them tense and her fingers tug at the roots of his hair, he increased the pressure of his tongue. Her hips bucked towards him, and she let out a loud cry as she came that echoed in the darkened room.
He sat back on his heels and fished in his pockets, giving her a little time to recover. He eventually found the small paper packet he was looking for and ripped it open.
Propping herself up on her elbows, she quirked an eyebrow at him. "Do you always carry those?" she asked.
"Only since we…you know," he stammered, slightly embarrassed by the admission.
She laughed and was about to reply until he shimmied his trousers and smalls off his hips and her eyes were drawn to his groin, her words sticking somewhere in the back of her throat. Wetting her suddenly dry lips with her tongue, she watched him slip the rubber on in one slick, practiced movement.
He lurched forward, crushing her mouth with his and pushing her back down onto the ground. His cock trapped between their bodies, he ground his hips into hers as his tongue devoured her mouth, and he heard a small whimper in her throat as she no doubt tasted herself on his lips. Breaking the kiss with a groan, he lifted his hips and gripped the base of his cock, wincing as his arm protested the movement.
Trembling with anticipation, he bit his bottom lip between his teeth as he concentrated on angling himself just right and smoothly slid inside her with a deep growl. Nestling his head into the crook of her neck, he moved quickly, thrusting into her fast and hard, feeling her hot breath wash over his ear.
She was trying to move her hips in time with his, but they were a little out of synch and the way their bodies were jerking and writhing together only added fuel to the intensity. The friction of the clothes covering the top halves of their bodies was uncomfortable, but there was no way they were going to stop.
He was close already; he could feel it building low in his belly, those tendrils of pleasure tugging at his body. He thrust harder and her breathing changed, quick pants in his ear, and her fingernails clawed at his neck, digging in, and he responded by sinking his teeth into her soft skin.
She cried out and her body jerked with the extra stimulation. He thrust harder and his arm stung when he put extra weight on it, but he ignored it, all of his concentration focused on reaching his climax. When he felt her muscles clamp tight around him, he groaned and heard her small huff of laughter. She was doing that on purpose! Contracting her pelvic muscles each time he thrust into her, driving him closer and closer until he lost all sense of rhythm and his hips bucked against her of their own accord. He grunted harshly into her neck as an intense orgasm wracked his worn out body, and then he collapsed on top of her, trying to suck oxygen back into his lungs and stop his head from spinning.
When his breathing finally slowed, she wriggled underneath him and pushed him gently away. Grumbling at the disruption of his post-coital haze, he only realized she was trying to push him off her when she sharply rapped out his name.
"Jack!" she cried, "My back..."
"Oh, sorry," he muttered, moving off her quickly and sucking in a sharp breath as his arm reminded him that it was still cut and bleeding. He sat back against the wall and watched her stretch her back, pulling her blouse tight across her breasts as she did so. She pulled her pants back up around her waist while still lying down and threw him a wry smile when she realized he hadn't even bothered to pull his trousers back up yet.
"Aren't you cold?" she asked, and he chuckled.
"Maybe a little."
She crawled over to him, and he noticed she gave him a wary glance as she did. When she settled beside him, her eyes were drawn to the bloody mess on his arm.
"How bad is that?" she inquired, a worried frown creasing her forehead.
"I've had worse," he answered, "I will need a minute or two, though, before we try to get out of here." He nodded towards the cellar entrance and she took a deep breath as she stared upwards.
"Right," she mumbled, "Out of here."
"Hey," he nudged her leg with his, "Look on the bright side, the bad guys are likely gone and hopefully Collins is on the way. Things are looking up." He grinned at her and she couldn't help but smile back, but shook her head too.
She leaned in and kissed him sweetly on the mouth, "A never-ending source of mystery indeed…"