Kate registered being lowered to the sand gently, his arm still holding her firmly, the other one landing by her side, supporting his weight, as he hovered above her, kissing her with full force now, nibbling on her lips, suckling on them, stroking her tongue with his own purposefully, as if he wanted to drink her up, suck her up into himself.
Teasing him slightly, she caught his tongue in between her teeth and tickled its tip with her own, while spreading her palms flat up and into his short brown hair, grazing his scalp softly. She was rewarded with a sharp sigh and his body moving closer, pressing at her side, his free hand playing beneath the hem of her top, where he had found a stripe of bare skin.
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Kate released his tongue, kissing the corners of his mouth, and rubbing her cheek against his, delighted to fulfill her desire of testing the coarse texture. A shameless whimper escaped her throat when his moist lips connected with her throat where it curved into the collarbone while his hand moved up underneath the fabric to skim over the side of her breast tentatively. Kate arched her back into him for more, her brain clouded completely by his heady musky scent, by his taste on her lips, by the warm weight of his body pressing up closer and tighter against her, by the sound of his hot ragged breath blowing into her neck, by his knee parting hers now instinctively, moving to in between her legs, demanding access, which she gladly provided.
It wasn't until his hips were fully cradled in hers, not before she could feel his hardness pressing intimately into her overheated centre through their clothes, while she bucked up enthusiastically to meet him halfway, not before her hands made their way up his t-shirt to stroke the perfectly defined muscles there, that he had suddenly pulled away from another fierce kiss, to look in her eyes. Her heart was racing in fear that he would and she shifted underneath him, knowing it would produce a grind against his hardness and cut at his self-control. She couldn't let him stop, not now, not when he was so close, so warm, so alive, the prospect of being left cold and alone on the sand more terrifying now than anything had ever been.
He inhaled sharply and shut his eyes at her invasion, lowering his mouth back to hers, seemingly unable to resist. She understood what he was asking, understood that he needed to know; if she gave herself to him now, would that be for good? Did she want to be his fully, wholly, without running, without hiding, without playing around? Was that real and was she ready? Kate made her decision long time ago, or it was made for her before she was born, but she had never dared to hope to see those questions in his eyes.
Lost for words and suddenly on the verge of tears, she blinked at him slowly and it was her turn to shake her head. It was as if he allowed his passion to take over then, crushing her against him, taking his busy mouth to explore each patch of bare skin with complete focus on every spot, gauging her reactions, seeking for the places which made her squeeze his shoulders almost painfully, which would make her gasp his name out.
Everything he did, each touch, each electrifying kiss left her wanting more and more, never enough. She tugged on his t-shirt, now crumpled up somewhere around his shoulder blades and Jack propped himself up briefly, to take it off, making Kate shiver involuntarily both in loss of his warmth against her and at the sight of his sculpted chest. Reaching up, she trailed her fingers across the firm expenses of his sun-kissed skin, meeting the prickly hair there, moving to his bicep, to trace his mysterious tattoo and back again, to his hardened nipples. His chest was raising and falling in quick shallow breaths, as he accepted her caresses, letting her hands travel along their discovery tracks.
The way he looked at her… It made Kate's heart flutter; His eyes black with lust now, as if he longed to eat her alive, to devour her greedily, to virtually rip her clothes off and fuck her hard, burying himself as deep as ever, bruising her on the way and never caring about that, but as if he was consciously stemming himself. It made her want him more yet; the frail promise of his strong body to overpower her, to force the sweet surrender out of her, it would drain all resistance away, should there had ever been any.
But at the same time, there was endless tenderness in his eyes, the care, the affection, the respect, the need to protect her. It did, however, manifest much alike: And he must have read it right, because the next thing she felt were his lips on her own again, in a kiss so passionate, so devoted, so truthful, that Kate felt the aching for him inside her double, triple, multiply by each dart of his talented hot tongue against hers. Breathing into his mouth, she grabbed his hand that was playing languidly across her stomach and shoved it up onto her tingling breast, with a simultaneous buck of her groin against the irresistible temptation of his hard length strained beneath the heavy denim, eliciting a low, almost animalistic grunt from the back of his throat.
And his long fingers were moving over her waiting breast; she pressed up against his palm, unable to stop herself, wanting more, always more.
He drew circles with his thumb around her taut nipple through the fabric, teasingly, but then cupped her breast firmly, pushing it up slightly, and her breath got caught down her throat from the infinite pleasure. Kate moved her hands down his strong back, to grasp his firm buttocks and urge him closer, tighter, rubbing against him now, in the long-restrained need. She was glad to see, he wasn't planning on holding to his persistent control, that his impatience matched hers, that he pulled her top roughly over her head and struggled now with the clasp of her bra, but not succeeding, so he just pushed the garment up and out of the way, stopping momentarily, drawn to the sight of her heaving chest in the fading daylight.
His movements slowed down upon uncovering her breasts, his hands on her yearning flesh, passionate now, earnest, focused on cherishing her. She couldn't stand the increasing tension, desperate for release; she was grinding up against him frantically now, her hands roaming over his sculpted body anywhere she could reach, her lips only leaving his to cover his jaw, his neck, his shoulders in rushed sloppy kisses, to taste everything about him, the salty tang of his sweat on her tongue.
She reached for the waistband of his jeans, and he didn't protest, no, he encouraged her, backing up and giving her access, mesmerized by her tiny fingers fumbling with the zipper of his jeans.
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She could tell he enjoyed the image; he was going to remember it. Kate wanted to implant dozens and dozens of images into his memory, she wanted them to replace his fantasies, to fuse with them, to stimulate them, so he would always come back to her when he wanted to feel like this.
Determined, she wriggled her hand past the heavy fabric, eager to touch him finally, and they both gasped when her fingers connected with the velvety skin of his hard shaft. The look on his face was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, Kate decided, as she grasped him firmly and stroked once, twice, his features smoothing visibly as he allowed himself to fall victim to the ineffable pleasure. Fascinated, Kate leaned up to capture his parted lips with hers again, and he responded immediately, shaking the momentary inertia of pure bliss off and away, and returning her attention, freeing her from the bra successfully now and bringing his hand down, to where she needed him, cupping her through the jeans.
The arch of her back was pure instinct, as she moaned his name breathlessly, but the contact wasn't enough and he knew it.
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Her eyes fluttered open in disappointment when he moved up to kneel between her legs and his erection slipped out of her hand. A chill ran down her spine at the notion, and her insides contracted in a fresh tide of arousal. What he does to her. She melted under his touch, her skin turning to hot liquid, her whole body evaporating, floating outside time, outside space, in the transcendence they shared; everything became absurdly insignificant now, the world imploding into the eternal call of her body to him. She wanted him, she needed him, now, and so she told him. His pupils dilated further as he nodded slightly and let out a ragged breath; he unzipped her pants and pushed them down roughly, getting stuck on her boots for a while.
Jack came back to her yearning lips in a trail of butterfly kisses up the curve of her calf, the smoothness of her inner thigh, the hollow of her hipbone, the swell of her breast; the dizzying tickle of his stubble following. His mouth wanted to be gentle, but his lust didn't let it, and she felt his teeth flirting with the idea of an ample bite, grazing the crook of her neck, brushing over it. With an unsuppressed whimper, she cocked her neck, exposing herself to him, inviting him, surrendering to him. A low grunt left his throat when he suckled on the creamy softness hard, bruising it, attacking it, but she was only too willing to give in, to accept each and every assault, knowing well, that he was paying her back with his bare soul, bare heart, all of it, and that his body was designed to pleasure her, just as hers for him.
Kate heard her own cry, when his skillful fingers found their way past her underwear, to slide into her folds, to rub her swollen clit lightly, to apply deliciously rhythmical pressure, to dance over her opening before slipping in and beginning to thrust now, agonizingly slowly, even though they were shaking with his stifled urge to devour her hard and fast, to quench his carnal thirst.
The thirst that threatened to leave her dried up dead if he wouldn't pour life into her body soon.
She urged his jeans down, and he helped her, never stopping his kisses, never stopping his whispers of how beautiful she was, and how he had always belonged to her, and how he wanted to give her everything, anything. Together they managed to rid him of the offensive layers and now he was coming back to his rightful place in between her legs, and she couldn't stop marveling at how stunning he was, his body a work of art, only so much better , warm and alive.
She was clinging to him, wrapping herself around him, her craving to merge with him never satisfied, not before they'd be unified.
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Her hands landed on his hot shaft again, her heart pounding in anticipation — he was so hard, and so big, all for her now; just as the excessive moisture of her body was all for him. She couldn't stop it, even if it was too much; This is real ; her panties getting soaked, time and time again. Stripping her out from the flimsy panties, he repositioned himself at her burning entrance, both of them dying for the ultimate connection. Both of their mouths opened, and gasped, and moaned simultaneously, as their eyes kept searching each others' for the answer to the sudden, but perennial question: Why does it feel so good…?
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What if I had never found you? He pushed inside her, slowly but steadily, as she stretched for him, realizing that she had never felt anything sweeter, that her whole life had brought her to him, day after day. That they were made for each other, fitting so perfectly, each dip in the bay of her body now finding its fulfillment, designed just to harbour each and every inch of him, each vein and every edging.
This was it, the point of no return, not that she would ever want to return. He was in her, claiming his right of her, bringing the inevitable change, the change that nature had pushed them into, they both too feeble to ever fight it. And he was moving out now, but she knew it was only to come back stronger and her eyes shut eventually, giving in to the sensation of his thickness stretching her almost painfully, while her inner muscles contracted in a foretaste of her ecstasy, gripping him, pulling him deeper inside in greed.
His lips landed on hers again, in a passionate kiss, matching the infuriatingly slow pace of his thrusts, slow, but thorough, forceful, bringing his cock all the way up into her hot tunnel and twisting his tongue around hers like ivy, while her limbs twined all over him, heels digging into his buttocks, to urge him deeper yet, harder, and hands holding onto his shoulders, encircling his neck hastily, as if she wanted to absorb him whole. She couldn't even feel the scrape of sand on her sweaty skin, but the scrape of his bristly cheek on her jaw line as he hid his face in the crook of her neck rippled through her body in jolts, meeting the waves of pure bliss that each of his pushes evoked.
Kate smiled at him, in the immense joy of their union, and he responded with a suddenly tender kiss, with his hand closing over her breast deftly, caringly, rubbing her swollen flesh as if he knew exactly that was what she needed. So good, so good. But it wasn't enough, still not enough, she needed more of him, all of him, she needed him to ditch the control, to pound into her with everything he had. She was now rocking against him, each stroke bringing her closer and closer to her release, at awe how little it was taking, how she was on the brink already, and determined to prolong the pleasure of having him in but at the same time unable to stop.
Her eyelids were heavy, her vision blurred by uncontrollable tears when she continued to move, watching his handsome face all the time, telling him in wordless gasps and whimpers and moans how good he felt, how he filled her up so completely, how he was filling the hole in her heart. Jack raised one hand up, to caress her cheek and she was taken aback again, how her whole face would fit in there, in that beautiful large palm which must have had been so smooth once, groomed to perfection, but was now calloused and scarred by the harsh reality.
Never stopping her frantic movements met by his hips thrusting up, she turned her head, to plant an affectionate kiss into his palm and then captured his thumb, which was now stroking her lower lip, with her mouth, sucking on it, swirling her tongue around it, tasting the salt of his sweat.
She bit the tip lightly and then moved to his index finger, sucking harder yet, her gaze fixed firmly on his, and she felt his cock swelling even larger within her, while the grip of his other hand on her hip tightened. Freeing himself from her greedy mouth, he grabbed her hand shakily, entwining his fingers with her own and pushed them both to their joining, pressing up on her swollen clit.
And so she did, maneuvering his fingers over the most sensitive spot, to rub against where she desperately needed it, and now he was moving them in sync with their thrusts, sending jolts of ecstasy through her entire being, leading her to the cliff of her sweetest fall, which she was no longer able to back up from.
She leaned down for a kiss, but her lips could not move, immobilized by the feel of his length probing at her insides, by his fingers working her intently, by his eyes bringing the ultimate answers to the questions of existence, by his hot breath meeting hers, so she just brushed her lips against his with every thrust, every push and every pull, much like her hair dangled over his face rhythmically. And she was coming now, in a series of powerful spasms, wishing so hard to share the experience with him, plunging her fingernails in his skin, coming in waves, in tides, falling out of her body, grasping for air as her lungs were failing her; his name stuck in her throat, in her mind, but unable to pass her open mouth, the sound she'd thought would mould into the one perfect four-letter word becoming a mindless cry, over and over again, just as he kept his fingers moving and never broke the rhythm of his thrusts when she slacked against him, and she was coming, and coming, and coming for what felt like hours, time becoming an irrelevant factor now.
Exhausted, Kate collapsed onto him, his arms holding her securely, soothing her, breaking her fall into the sweet abyss of surrender to the perennial destiny. Come with me, come along , be mine. She pressed her lips to the crook of his neck forcefully and run them up his coarse jaw line to hover over his mouth. The look in his eyes was one of endless devotion and Kate's hand flung to cup his cheek while her hips continued their instinctive movements against him.
He spun them around again, to pin her underneath his stronger form once more, and she moaned as he thrust forcefully within her, as hard as ever. Her words seemed to tear on his control, she observed, so she kept whispering how good he felt, how good he made her feel, how she had been dreaming of having him like this, of knowing him like this, how she had craved him, all of him.
She felt his hand grabbing her buttock, lifting her, pressing her tighter to his groin, as he moved faster now, harder, ramming into the recess of her body in desperation, seeking his release, begging her in hot huffs against her neck to follow. She welcomed his weight crushing her smaller body as he collapsed on top of her and went on stroking his sweated back soothingly, running her fingers through his hair, catching her breath in time with him, neither of them able to utter a word apparently.
The night fell above and over them, in thick, humid darkness, cocooning their spent bodies, separating them from the world. And he was kissing her again, not only with his lips, but with his soul, with his entire being, giving himself to her, like she had never been given anything before.
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Sorry if I bored you to death, I seriously need a challenge to write a compact fic for once. Take the note, I kept the "sex-talk" minimal — good or bad? Also, it was written in one sitting and I got kinda stuck on attempts of possible enhancements — blame my PMS moodiness. So, please don't smack if it sucks big time. I hope the next two chapters will shape up better done in drafts now.
Chapter 2 is Kate's fantasy being played out the one including blindfold ; , and chapter 3 — Jack's surprise: After that, I'm gladly taking requests, as promised! Pretty please, show a little heart and review — so I know what to flaunt and what to avoid! Kate finds a book. A very inspirational one Fantasies get played out. Jate, of course, because I'm a Jack slave. Lol Oh, I guess it's set sometime around late S2, minus the Others and all weird stuff. But he doesn't, he never does.