Within a short amount of time, the small office had heated up substantially; despite the fact that not only was the door open, but it had also begun to rain outside. We were both draped over the chaise lounge, trying to distract ourselves by talking about everything from how we met (a Scissor Sisters concert), to philosophy, to recent news.
"I can't take it anymore," I huffed, weakly looking down at my legs, which were splayed out before me. "I need to take my stockings off; the nylon is trapping all the heat."
Jim turned his head to face me and arched an eyebrow. "So why don't you?"
"It's too much effort," I justified, kicking one leg up into the air briefly in defeat.
"I know just how you feel," he replied sympathetically, placing a hand on my thigh, "I'd kill to take my shirt off, but there's just soooo many but-tons."
Taking hold of his hand, I turned to him and said, "I'll take off your shirt if you'll take off my stockings."
He eyed me curiously for a moment, and I just then realized what conclusions he may have drawn; and I found myself not having the slightest problem with any of them. He gave the faintest smile and said, "Yes, alright, it's a deal."
I smirked, and moved my hand to his wrist, undoing the buttons on one sleeve, then reaching over him to undo the other. Upon noticing I couldn't unbutton the front of his shirt while sitting next to him, I moved so I was straddling his lap, having to hike my skirt up a bit to do so. He ran his hands up my legs to rest on my hips, making my heart flutter briefly as I slid my own hands up his arms, to his shoulders, to the collar of his shirt. His dark chocolate eyes met mine, their expression —once again, what?— softer than usual, and I couldn't look away, not even as I began to gradually unbutton his shirt, my hands moving progressively downward. Once I had reached the end of his shirt, I pulled it back over his shoulders and down his arms to reveal an attractively toned torso. Almost sheepishly, I reached a hand out and touched his chest, snaking a finger down his stomach to the beginning of a small trail of hair.
Jim leaned forward and wrapped his arms around me, flipping me so that I was sitting on the lounge and he was kneeling on the floor. Keeping his eyes locked with mine, he slowly glided his fingers up my calves, past my knees, under my skirt, up my thighs, to grasp the waistband of my stockings, and pull them down just as slowly. Involuntarily, my body quivered.
Seeing this, Jim smirked devilishly and leaned over me, positioning his hands at the top button of my blouse and letting his lips brush against my ear.
"I'm sure you're still quite warm," he whispered sensually. "Would you like me to—"
He undid my top button, and I exhaled quietly; I felt his lips twist into an even bigger smirk.
"—take this off for you?" he finished, nibbling on my ear tauntingly.
"Y-yes," I replied, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible, and failing miserably.
Without a word, his lips traveled from my ear, down my jawline, to my neck, his kisses becoming more and more savage every inch of the way. He unbuttoned my shirt at a snail's pace, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on me; my body arched itself into his hands, and my own fingers found themselves intertwined in his soft, dark brown hair, my desire building rather rapidly. He tossed my blouse aside, and his gaze strayed to my red silk bra.
"No wonder you're so hot," he commented, reaching out and tracing the outline of my right nipple through the fabric. He must have shifted his eyes to analyze my face; I stared at his mouth hungrily, my lips dying to be pressed against his. "Well? What's stopping you, sweetheart?"
I didn't say anything, but my look must have said it all. His expression turned gentle, yet serious, and he gently cupped my face in his hands. "Genevieve… aren't you worried that this is only lust?"
I tried to look down, but he lifted my chin back up. Looking at his face, I saw that he seemed to be searching for the right words.
"Heh, it's strange. I care about you a lot... more than anyone else in my life. I didn't think it'd be possible, but looking at you now—your soft brown hair, tawny hazel eyes, smooth ivory skin, and that gentle, caring smile—I know I love you. I really do."
He could very well have been lying, I mean, this is Jim Moriarty we're talking about. But, he'd never lied to me before, and there were many times in the past where I could have sworn he was sincerely trying to show affection. So, I believed him. My heart swelling with joy, I replied, "I love you too, Jim…I've just never been quite sure how you felt about me."
"Well," he began, our faces creeping nearer to each other, "now you know."
With that, he closed the distance between us and his lips embraced mine; tenderly, at first, but he quickly took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, becoming increasingly more passionate with every glide of his tongue across mine. I moved both hands to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair at the base of his head. He took hold of the waistband of my skirt and —with minor difficulty— managed to shimmy it off my body. Now that my legs had full range of movement, I wrapped them around his waist and pulled myself to him. He snaked a hand up my back, and unclasped my bra with a simple flick of his wrist, and I let it unceremoniously fall to the ground. He drew me towards him, and the feeling of his bare chest against mine sent a roll of thunder throughout me in time to the storm. Holding me securely in place, he stood up, and moving a hand to my upper-back, began to ravage my neck once more; I gave out a shattered breath, and felt my folds dampen.
Cautiously, he laid me down on the chaise lounge, still kissing my neck, and started to gently knead my breasts. I scratched at his back, causing the tiniest of moans to escape his lips.
"You're going to pay for that," he breathed somewhat menacingly, his mouth leaving my neck and making its way to my left nipple. Making eye contact with me, he traced the outline of it with his tongue, flicking it back and forth a few times, before bringing his whole mouth down and beginning to suckle on it. My breath hitched sharply, and he moved over and did the same to my right. I let out a weak moan that I had failed to hold back.
"Oh, that just won't do," he said, starting a trail of kisses down my stomach. "I'm certain I can make you feel better than that wittle squeak."
He curled his fingers into my panties, and pulled them down just enough to place a finger over my tender nub, rubbing it in a circular pattern, while removing them the rest of the way with his other hand. I whimpered, my arousal only growing. Soon, he locked gaze with me once more; this time, his expression was devious. He gave me a dark smirk, then moved downwards and licked my clit torturously; sliding his tongue back and forth, in and out. I reached down and ran my hands desperately through his hair, and he sped up his motions. Unable to control myself, I let out an audibly pleasured groan.
Sliding up my body, he reached my ear and nibbled on it once more, whispering, "That's more like it… Don't be afraid to give in, Beautiful."
I felt his erection pressing against me, and so I inched my hands down his chest and abdomen, aiming to undo his trousers. In rebuttal, he firmly grabbed hold of my wrists and forcefully pinned them above my head.
"Oh no you don't," he growled, taking hold of me and flipping us so that he was lying down and I was over him. Pulling me against him, he added, "I'm not done teasing you yet."
He held me tightly so that my motion was extremely restricted, so I tenderly kissed my way up his neck and to his ear, slowly, making a few small whimpers escape his throat. Nibbling on his ear, I cooed, "That's all very well, but how do you expect to tease me when I'm on top?"
"S-s-simple," he stuttered, his hands moving down my back and sides. I felt his finger searching for my opening, and I moved down slightly to bring it closer. He thrust first one finger into me, causing me to moan and to instinctively go at his neck. Once he found a comfortable rhythm, he added a second finger, and I groaned even louder, accidentally biting his clavicle. He gave a pleasured scream at the unexpected rush of pain, and pushed his fingers deeper in retaliation. I moaned, ceasing all efforts to hold myself up and letting myself collapse onto him. Shortly after, he withdrew his fingers and whispered, "Now."
Without a moment's hesitation, I raised myself into a kneeling position and trailed my hands down his toned body to the fly of his pants, undoing it and pulling them down his legs. It didn't surprise me much to see that he wasn't wearing any form of underwear; he would wear nothing under a fancy suit. Before I could even contemplate teasing him, he moved so that I was on the bottom again.
"Jimmmmm…." I whined, my body writhing beneath him as he rubbed himself against my soaking-wet folds.
"Yes, my dear?" he purred. "Enjoying yourself?"
"I ache for you…I need you inside me…Jim…"
His gaze locked with mine.
"…won't you please fix it for me?"
He grinned mischievously and, without a second to spare, drove his hard member into me. My back arched, and I half-moaned, half-screamed with absolute pleasure. He groaned as well, lowering his body just enough for me to clutch on to his back. I pulled him down even further, digging my nails into his skin as I did so. He tangled his hands in my hair, tugging on it surprisingly lightly, as if he was afraid of hurting me.
"I adore the little screams you make," he gasped in my ear, his speed increasing momentarily to elicit another.
"I'd kill to find out what sounds you make," I answered, coaxing him into moving to the bottom. Our hands interlocking, I began to ride him, determined to not make any noises myself. I started off slow, watching his face contort with pleasure as I slid up and down his shaft harder and harder. Finally, a long, loud moan escaped his throat, at first deep and guttural, and then transitioning into a breathy sigh.
He moved so that I was on my hands and knees now, and he was positioned behind me. Wrapping a hand in my hair, he thrust into me, moving his other hand from my hip to grope at my breast. He leaned forward and began to eat at my neck, pulling on my hair this time with less restraint then previously. I whimpered again, biting my lip and tilting my head back.
"Come for me," he commanded, pushing himself deeper inside me.
I pulled myself from his grasp and laid down, spreading my legs for him to re-enter me.
"Only if I can look into your eyes as I scream your name," I said, pulling him down into a passionate kiss.
He slid his length into me agonizingly slowly, causing me to groan into his mouth. He gradually picked up speed, kissing me through my moans all the while. Tearing his mouth from mine, he moved to my ear, and breathed, "I love you so much, baby."
"I love you too," I replied, wrapping my arms around him and clawing viciously at his back.
He shifted so I could look deep into his eyes, his brown irises almost completely consumed by his dilated pupils.
"Harder," I gasped, gouging my nails into his back. He groaned harshly in response. "Deeper…oh Jim, I'm so close…."
His thrusts increased in force and speed, and I felt myself nearing my climax.
"Genevieve," he moaned, not breaking eye contact.
"Jim…oh, Jim… JIM!"
We screamed each other's name in utter ecstasy, simultaneous orgasms making our bodies convulse into each other. We kissed until the sensation subsided, when he pulled out and laid down, taking me securely in his arms. I curled into him and nestled my head on his chest, listening intently to his heartbeat as it slowly returned to normal.
"I mean it, you know," Jim said at long last, breaking up the sound of rain against the old window. "I do love you, Genevieve."
"I love you too, Jim," I replied, rotating to face him and running a hand through his hair.
"And as far as I'm concerned," he added, his expression serious, "I'm yours now; no one else's."
I smiled tenderly. "And I'm yours, and only yours."
"I knew you'd say that, but I love to hear the words from your mouth," he smirked, pulling me into a kiss.
Suddenly, "Mordred's Lullaby" by Heather Dale sprang forth from the floor.
Jim reached down and handed it to me; it was Lestrade.
"Hello Greg," I said as cordially as possible, drumming my fingers on Jim's chest.
"Hello Genevieve, how's your little nerdfest going?"
"Incredible," I replied, shooting a wry smile to Jim.
"Good," Lestrade said, "because I just received report that the rain has flooded the ground floor."
"Oh?" I tried to not sound hopeful.
"Afraid so. Looks like you're stuck there until tomorrow when a team can come down to drain it."
"Understood. Thanks for letting me know."
"Of course. Have fun storming the castle."
Hanging up, I nestled myself back into Jim's embrace and sighed, "Might as well get comfortable, Hon; we're stuck here until tomorrow."
"Why?" he inquired, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
"Ground floor is flooded. I don't know about you, but I don't particularly fancy the idea of wading through it to get out of here. Besides…I'm in no rush to leave your arms."
He kissed my forehead and held me tighter. "Good, because I'm in no rush to let you go."
With that, we relaxed into each other, and listening to the serenade of raindrops on the windowpane, we gradually drifted off to sleep.