Timeline: Right after last chapter

Rating: R for sexual content

Chapter 21

The Heart Cannot Be Involved

"I can help you change tired moments into pleasure.
Say the word and we'll be well upon our way.
Blend and balance

Pain and comfort
Deep within you
'Till you will not want me any other way." –Tool, Stinkfist

Passionate kisses followed their first; their tongues slid against each other as Mark's hands slipped upwards to cup both of Amanda's breasts. She was still nestled in front of him, her back against his broad chest. As she'd only been able to fantasize about before, Mark kneaded her breasts in the same manner he'd massaged her back; in rotation, alternating between soft and hard in perfect tempo. He circled her nipples in sync with her moans, and the pink nubs hardened beneath the tips of his thumbs.

"Mark," she whimpered, breaking their kiss as she squirmed against him, her buttocks and lower back rubbing against his crotch in response to the movement of his agile hands. He visualized her naked already, imagined simply lifting her on top of him and impaling her on his already swelling cock. He had thought about where this could lead as he was massaging her pain away…but now those fantasizes were accelerating in overdrive because it was actually happening.

"Amanda…" he gasped as she rubbed her backside against him with more force, his hardness pressed against her soft flesh, wedging in the crevice between her cheeks. She felt him stiffen underneath her; the combination of his slacks and her cotton shorts lacked a strong barrier to guise the pulsating of his cock, throbbing harder with her every moan encouraging him onward.

He squeezed her pert nipples and leaned into her neck to leave a trail of slightly breathless kisses, his mouth parted as he panted between each one. She shivered in response to the hot, moist breath on her neck.

"God, that feels…so good…" she moaned, the vibration in her throat ringing against Mark's lips. Her voice adopted a tone of complete rhapsody, the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. He wanted to see the blissful facial expression that matched that lovely voice. Mark removed his hands from under her shirt, and she responded as he predicted she would. As soon as he freed Amanda of his binding embrace, she spun around and attacked him with more fervent kisses. She shoved him against the mattress and grinded her heated centre against the exciting throbbing sensation beneath his work slacks, straddling him like…

A mechanical bull at rodeo week…and I'll bet he thrusts like one too…

His hips bucked upwards, nearly toppling her off of him and proving her conjecture correct. Amanda's smoldering heat trapped in the delta between her legs tempted him into seriously considerating shredding those flimsy shorts beyond repair. She smiled as his face contorted in an expression of sheer pleasure, eyes squeezed shut, eyebrows furrowed, mouth gaping open as he gasped for air. It felt both amusing and extremely arousing to observe the usually stolid detective who always strived for control in any situation groaning and thrusting beneath her, panting with parted lips, looking so out of control, so out of his element…and she was the one he had relinquished his control to. His eyes fluttered open, and he stared up at her with a ravenous expression. Her smile widened. How very in character of Mark to bring that intensity into every area of his life…even the bedroom.

"Amanda, what are you trying to do me…dry hump me into insanity? Are you going to take your clothes off, or am I going to have to tear them off of you?"

"Sorry, Mark. Just enjoying the show. It's amusing to see a detective lose control for once," she purred in response.

He laughed, and his hands progressed up her outer thighs.

"Glad I amuse you. Lose control…" he shook his head. "Amanda, you haven't seen anything yet…but I'll show you…just how fucking out of control I can get."

Before she could counter with a witty reply, he rolled her over on her back and grabbed the waistline of her shorts- no zipper or buttons to fumble with, thankfully- and he swiped them off with one quick motion, revealing black, sheer panties underneath. Not red, although the color she wore would have been close second choice for Mark, and not that it mattered since it would soon be discarded, but he looked at Amanda curiously, fingering the outline of the thin textile, wondering for a moment if Amanda had somehow anticipated this…

"What? Oh…" she blushed furiously, realizing what he must be thinking. She didn't know if it would be more humiliating to tell him all her underwear looked something like that because of her previous job at Euphoria, or if she should just let him make his own assumptions. She decided to remain silent and let him run with his train of thought, why not let it boost his ego a little to think she'd picked them out just for him.

Mark slipped the scanty panties down her legs, so thin he could see his fingers on the other side, and flung them across the room into a random pile of clothes on her floor. He gazed at Amanda for a few seemingly everlasting moments, as though he needed to memorize every detail of her and forever imprint the image in his mind. He locked eyes with her, and they shared another kiss before he plunged two fingers inside of her. She sucked in a short gasp of air, and her pelvic muscles contracted as she became accustomed to the feeling of him inside of her. He pumped his fingers in and out of her, his thumb pressing down on her clit, before sliding another finger into her opening, stretching her, reawakening the woman in her that had been dormant for so long…too long.

Amanda writhed beneath him, arching upwards to meet his thrusts. He pulled out, his hand now drenched in her sweet wetness, and his tongue wrapped each individual digit, lapping up the residue, tasting her. He salivated in response to her scent, his hard-on demanding to be released from the confinement of his pants and into her. Now.

She yanked her shirt over her head and her bra, already unclasped from earlier, fell off with it. Without hesitation, Amanda reached for his belt and began shedding him of his clothes with as much satisfaction he'd felt in stripping away hers. Her taut nipples nudged against his chest while she unbuttoned his shirt. As she reached the last button, she gazed up at him with a wicked smile whilst her hand slipped under the fabric veiling his massive hard on and grasped it at the base. His burning erection pulsed with a steady rhythm like a beating heart. He shuddered as she stroked him, using one hand to jerk him off while the other stayed preoccupied with unzipping his pants and removing the last of his clothing.

"You are losing control, Mark…because I'm taking it," Amanda teased with a mischievous smile, squeezing him to emphasize her point.

"That so?" he panted. His thighs quivered as her motions picked up speed. He tossed his head back and growled.

"I think you're on to something...but two can play that game, Amanda," he said, and reached for her, his fingertips sliding up her inner thigh and then once again entering that delicious part of her. She thrusted up and down in response, her breasts bouncing as his fingers worked to bring her closer to release.

"What's wrong, Amanda. Losing control?" he whispered in her ear, quite desperate for air himself.

"Oh, fuck!" she moaned, her mouth opening wide in a breathless gasp. She continued to stroke Mark with one hand as the other clawed into his flesh. They carried on like that, stimulating one another, their eyes burning into each other, feasting on the sight of every tinge of emotion that displayed on the other's face, every twinge of unsurpassable pleasure tainting their expressions with lust.

"Say it," Mark taunted. Amanda looked at him in an odd combination of total lust and slight curiosity. "Tell me that you want me. Tell me that you want me to fuck you. Tell me that…"

That you want me…That you've been wanting me, ever since the first night we saw each other. Tell me that you've been fighting this as long as I have.

"I want you, Mark," she said, interrupting his thoughts with her desperate pleas, "Now. I want you to fuck me right…now. Please…Mark!" Her words were lost in a moan as he obliged.

Her body trembled as he entered her, such a wonderful shock to her system to feel him inside of her. Their bodies found a perfect rhythm almost instantly, as if by innate intuition. He hovered over her, alternating the uses of his delightfully plump lips between kissing her own and moving lower to suck on her neck. He savored the salty taste of her flesh, driving him even more insane with lust. Mark propelled faster within her as she vocalized her pleasure with louder and more frequent moans. As her voice escalated to a scream, he leaned back, parting his mouth from her so that he could watch her face. Her every expression and movement fascinated him, made him fuck her harder as the sight of her becoming more desperately aroused made his own body respond the same way, sending him into a frenzy.

Mark verged on the peak of desire, kept at bay only by the insatiable craving to watch her reach her ecstasy first, to see the expression of total yearning in Amanda's face before succumbing to the pleasure himself. His patience paid off. She came, screaming his name while her nails drilled into his back, completely an involuntary response, like a small animal that knows instinctively to burrow beneath soil. Hot liquid spread beneath her fingertips. Mark's blood, or simply his perspiration? Both thoughts turned her on, her body tensing, pulling him in deeper and clinching tighter than before. The image of Mark's glistening skin and the thought of a hot mixture of sweat and blood beneath her nails sent her into another fit of screams as the pinnacle of her orgasm became only the mere preamble, and another more intense wave of pleasure crashed over her.

"Oh, fuck! Yes! Ohhh, Mark! MARK!" she screamed, as her blood red nails dug even deeper. Mark grunted in response. Although he felt the pain, his mind could hardly process the source. The sensations of pain, pleasure, and the unforgettable vision of Amanda coming underneath him and howling his name, completely out of control of her own body and so completely under his control, if only for a few idyllic moments until the pleasure faded, were enough to send his mind into a spin of ecstasy.

The sight of her clinging to him as the last moments of her orgasm faded sent him over the edge. The end of her euphoria was replaced by the sensation of hot liquid shooting deep within her. Mark tossed his head back as he spilled himself inside her, his hands kneading into her flesh as he pounded into her. His entire lower body shuddered. He closed his eyes as the pleasure enthralled his every nerve ending into a kind of senseless bliss. Time mitigated the intensity of the sensation, and he collapsed next to Amanda after it finally died away.

He laid beside her, catching his breath and feeling his heartbeat decelerate. Her body heat radiated onto him. Her skin felt like a thousand degrees, like fire engulfing him as her head leaned against him, and her arm tentatively crossed over his chest. How strange that mere moments ago when enraptured in absolute desire she could hardly claw her way close enough against him, yet at the present she hesitated with her every touch.

Words seemed necessary, but the right ones…out of grasp. So they basked in the post-sex sensation of racing hearts, the aroma of sweat, the feeling of their still scorching hot bodies so near each other. The longer the silence became, the more awkward the prospect of breaking it felt. Amanda looked over at Mark, and his disheveled hair and content face made her beam. He returned the smile and kissed her. As always, one kiss inevitably led to another, and soon then they were lost in passion again, words and explanations discarded as easily and carelessly as their forgotten clothes on the floor.

"This isn't how I wanted this to happen!" Mark said in defense, looking incredibly irritated for someone who'd had such a pleasant and eventful time the night before, with a good long respite afterwards. Probably the best sleep he'd had in years. Somehow he'd forgotten how good the feeling of having someone in bed beside him could be, and somehow an awkward, "Good morning" from a man Amanda had been very startled to find in her bed, much less naked and clinging to her own bare body, had turned into a very nasty argument at nearly record speed.

"So you wanted this to happen?" she asked as though Mark had been mischievously plotting the entire thing, as if he'd known her back would be hurting and where massaging her would lead to.

"I thought about it. Considered it," he confessed, looking a little guilty and shy, despite laying in her bed nearly exposed and making no effort to get dressed or conceal himself better than the small sheet covering his lower half. Amanda sat as far away from Mark as possible on the tiny mattress and briefly scoped around the room for clean clothes. She looked at Mark again.

"Considered it?" she asked. One eyebrow rose suspiciously.

"What?" he said with a shrug. "Well, I wasn't expecting it obviously. But the way things were going between us, it…didn't seem like such a stretch to imagine that-"

"So you considered it. Did you consider it a good idea, or a bad one?" Amanda asked, eyeing Mark up and down, her eyes inadvertently lingering a moment too long in the down area.

"Just…considered it," he said, not wanting to admit he had never really focused so much on what he expected to happen afterwards as much as the act itself.

"Come on, Mark. Give me more than that," she said, crossing her arms over her breasts, looking uncomfortable.

Just stop talking, he thought. Mark wasn't sure if that thought was directed at her or himself. He reasoned it was most likely a self-criticism. Nothing he said was coming out right. It made sense to himself at least, but once verbalized, Amanda seemed to interpret everything he said in the worst way possible.

"What I meant was that this isn't how I would have chosen for this to happen," he said, and it was the truth. He definitely would have planned better. For one thing, contraception didn't seem so trivial in hindsight. Nor would he have chosen the warehouse as the location for their rendezvous. His innocent remark meant only one thing to Amanda.

"…So what are you really saying?" she asked, and he realized he truly had no idea. Somehow the words coming out of his mouth weren't matching up to what he was trying to convey, and Amanda was too damn impatient this morning to even try to interpret. She leapt out of bed and began rummaging around for clothes. Mark tried to figure out a way to make her understand exactly what was going on in his head, as he tried to understand it himself.

"What I really meant to say was that-" he began to say, but Amanda cut him off.

"This was a mistake," she said as though finishing his sentence and also telling him off as well, and the moment the words came out of her mouth she believed them with overwhelming conviction. She threw on the rest of her clothes, trying to dismiss the indignation of having to storm out of her own room in order to get away from him; she needed space and time in order to think about everything.

"Thanks for the fuck, Mark," she said, but it didn't come out nearly as cruel and callous as she intended because of the strain of trying not to break into tears. She slammed the door behind her and went into another room, hoping Mark would have enough sense to leave her alone for awhile.

Amanda acted on instinct, and her mind was telling her two things. She needed to escape Mark; she couldn't think clearly when he was in the same room as her, much less naked in her own bed, and she also knew that she needed to find John, like a lost soul seeking confession for fresh, unforgiven sins. Of course, she knew she wouldn't breathe a word of what happened. The mere thought of doing so sent a humiliating shudder through her. The shame she'd feel, if he ever found out she had screwed…the help? The heavy lifter? The guy who only stuck around because he fucked up a case badly and needed John to keep quiet? The thought of John knowing she had those kind of feelings at all for Mark, despite them being natural, human feelings, made her checks burn with humiliation. It would be a sign of weakness in John's eyes, a sign of betrayal. What if he decided she wasn't good enough to carry on his legacy after all? What if he could never stand to look her in the face again? What if she disappointed him, and once again became that unlovable person absolutely no one in the world gave a shit about?

"Amanda," she heard John say from behind her. Her eyes widened, and she froze in place. It was as though he'd gotten inside her head at last. Could he see her memories of last night, read the guilt in her expression? Amanda then realized the reason she'd needed to see John right away. She had to know if she'd been ruined, if the omniscient John Kramer would take one look at her and just know everything that had transpired between her and Mark. It was an impossible thought. No one could really just look at someone and know they'd fucked somebody the night before; she's had enough cheating ex-boyfriends in her past to prove that fact. Before she met John, Amanda never would have imagined something so ridiculous, yet somehow she could almost believe it was possible, and that made her heart race like never before.

She gathered the courage to turn around and look John in the eyes.

"Yes?" she said, sounding tiny and squeaky, like a frightened mouse.

"It's time to begin setting up our next game," John said simply. Amanda nodded. Relief washed over her. Business as usual.

"And call Mark. We'll need his assistance."

She felt strained from remaining silent about the secret that gnawed inside of her. She needed to think about Mark and his place in her life objectively, and at the same time, she also needed to eradicate every thought of him out of her mind completely, because the only ideas coming to her were definitely not objective. The tempting memories of the night before flooded her conscious, making detachment unattainable.

"Yeah, I'll get right to it," she replied before leaving the room, inwardly groaning at the thought of facing Mark again so soon. John was too preoccupied with his own contemplations to notice that Amanda was focused on many thoughts as well, and not one of them related to their next test subjects.

Author's Note: Hope you guys enjoyed reading this chapter, the first part was especially fun to write. Poor Mark, what was he trying to say? Maybe you'll find out in the next chapter. ;)