AN: Thank you for all the reviews! I'm glad you seem to like Jess, it's just rare to see stories from his POV, so I thought it would be an interesting twist.

Enjoy!

The lines of poetry come from Neruda's book, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair. I don't own it.

Chapter 6

I let out a moan, and her eyes widen slightly, surprised at my response. Earlier on the couch, I was there to take her through her first experience, so I kept my control, to a certain degree.

Now?

Control? What control?

Wherever she touches seems to burst into flames.

My hips thrust up involuntarily, meeting her hand, and she smiles slightly.

Oh, my god.

Rory Gilmore likes to be in control.

I feel myself turn to granite under her fingers, and she bites her lip thoughtfully, her inexperience flickering through.

"Is it…I mean..."

I try to reassure her. I try to form the words, but all that comes out is a guttural moan.

This.

This is the moment I have been fantasizing about for so long.

Well, I sure wasn't in the bathroom doing my hair for two hours.

"I don't know how fast I'm supposed to go?" she questions uncertainly, and I shake my head slightly, licking my parched lips to try to form a word.

"Just…keep doing what you're doing," I murmur, getting a tighter grip on her sheets as my muscles tense with pleasure.

I'm not some obscene player, but I do have some experience. This should take far longer than it seems to be taking, I think, as I feel my climax approaching like a freight train. I touch her wrist gently, stopping her movements, and she looks up at me, hurt.

"I'm sorry. I did it wrong," she whispers, crushed, and I shake my head quickly. Clearing my throat, I chuckle softly.

"No, Rory. Not at all. I just…"

"You just what?"

"You did it too well, I just needed a breather," I explain, smiling the crooked smile that melts her every time, and her features soften into understanding. Then, they turn mischievous.

Oh, no. Bad move, Mariano. This girl will be the death of you.

"Oh?" she says coyly, glancing down at my aroused state.

She trails a fingertip up and down my length playfully and I emit noises that I have never heard myself make.

I growl.

She touches me, and I actually growl in pleasure.

She looks pleased with herself, her delicate fingers exploring me, until I feel I'm going to burst.

"Rory-" I let out in a strangled voice, and she giggles breathily, fascinated by the reactions she's causing in me.

She looks up into my brown eyes, heavy lidded with lust, and cocks her head to the side thoughtfully for a moment as her hand continues to move up and down on me.

"Tell me if I do it wrong," she says quietly, and I open my mouth to reassure her before I realize what she's doing.

"Rory, you don't have-"

Oh.

OH.

She presses her lips to the tip of the growing mast I am erecting in her honor, and I think I am going to pass out.

A fleeting thought passes through my mind that I shouldn't rip her bedding, and I loosen my grip a little, but only a little, as her hair brushing against my inner thighs and stomach makes me tremble.

Every nerve within me is firing on overdrive.

Her hot pink tongue darts out tentatively, unsurely. She licks the tip only, at first, then her tongue continues to explore the entire length, tracing slow squiggles down it.

I am making noises that I'm not sure are even human. Desperate, guttural animal moans.

"Rory, I'm going to-" I mumble incoherently, my hips thrusting up to meet her, desperate, wild.

She sits back, watching my reaction intently as she finishes me off with her small hands, pumping me quickly, her hand travelling up and down until my eyes are rolling back in my head.

I call out her name, tangling her sheets in my hands as every muscle in my body tenses, and then it comes like an atom bomb, shooting through me.

Afterwards, panting like I just ran a marathon, I look at her through half closed eyes. Her cheeks are flushed in excitement, not a trace of awkwardness or regret on her face, just pure fascination and lust.

I will teach you everything you want to know.

Please.

I chuckle slightly, taking a last deep breath before finally opening my eyes fully, meeting hers.

"That was…" she trails off, and I run a hand through my hair, slightly embarrassed.

Jess Mariano.

Embarassed.

Never thought that day would arrive.

"Sorry," I reply, and she shakes her head.

"No, it was…you're…wow."

I laugh softly, glancing down at my stomach self-consciously.

"Do you have um…" I nod down, and she nods quickly.

"Right! Yeah, sorry," she says, grabbing a Kleenex from her dresser and handing it to me.

I start to wipe up the mess I've made, but she stops my hand, her eyes mischievous again.

"Wait."

I look at her, puzzled, and she smiles nervously.

She trails a finger through the sticky mess, bringing it to her lips and sucking her finger gently.

Oh, my God.

"Rory Gilmore, you're going to be the death of me," I choke out, averting my eyes to keep from jumping her.

You have no idea how sexy you are, I want to tell her.

Finally catching my breath, my blood starting to circulate properly to my brain, I pat the bed next to me. I reach over, grabbing my boxers from the floor, and pull them on as she situates herself beside me. I wrap my arm around her, nuzzling her warm hair affectionately.

"Taking advantage of me like that, you should be ashamed," I tease, and she giggles quietly, looking up at me.

"Shhh," she murmurs, nuzzling my bare chest, and I smile.

"You're staying, right?" she asks, her words muffled as her lips graze my chest.

"Just try to kick me out," I grin, rubbing her back gently.

"Your arm okay?" I ask in concern, now that my post-orgasmic glow has faded, and she nods.

"It's good, thank you. I might need help in the morning, but I'm okay for now."

"Well, I am here for your every need, Madame."

"Tell me some lines you like from the book," she murmurs quietly, and I smile.

Reciting poetry now, Mariano? What else can this girl make you do?

I clear my throat, searching through my mind for a moment before speaking.

"In you, the rivers sing and my soul flees in them as you desire, and you send it where you will."

I feel her smile against my chest, and I sigh, closing my eyes.

"I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and a rustic basket of kisses. I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees."

Soon I hear her breathing slow, her back rising in a steady rhythm. I shake my head slightly, not able to comprehend what I did to deserve such a girl.

Come on, Mariano. Why not just go work at Hallmark now? You'd be employee of the month.

I drop a soft kiss on the top of her head before I reach over to the bedside table, opening the Neruda book and starting to look through it.