This story idea came to me really suddenly. Rated M for a reason. Let me know your thoughts on how/if I should even continue.

Enjoy!


Jane pumped harder.

Maura moaned louder.

There wasn't a sound in the room that wasn't wet and breathy.

The bed rocked back and forth and sweat dripped from Jane's body, looming over a frenzied Maura. She was so close to breaking that it was impossible to stop. Maura's eyes were clenched shut, her head thrown back, hair sprawled out across the pillow. Her beautiful freckled neck was taut on display and Jane rid herself of the fleeting thought to lick the drop of sweat rolling down toward her chest.

Jane's elbow was on the pillow as she rocked back and forth with the motion of her arm. Her legs were on either side of Maura's left thigh and helping her push her fingers into the woman beneath her. Wetness spread around Maura's thigh and prompted her to rock her hips and legs up. Jane's eyes were screwed closed and it was hard to maintain this motion with her hand starting to hurt from the position they were in.

Jane moved down and Maura dismissed the fact that she missed the heat and weight from the brunette's chest on her. Jane pushed Maura's legs open and changed the angle of her arm, bending it more to pump her fingers in and out faster and harder. Hips jutted up as the pounding became more intense and Maura's hands clutched at sweaty bed sheets. Her breathing got heavier and heavier and her legs tensed. Jane felt it a millisecond before Maura let out a high mewl of pleasure and her body began to shake. Her legs trembled and hips undulated on the bed and Jane felt warmth spread over her fingers and hand. Jane's hand slowed but didn't stop, savoring the tremors from Maura's body.

They rested their heads and bodies down and breathed for a moment. Jane had gotten the first orgasm of the night. And the second. It was only fair that Maura got the third and fourth. And fifth. When they were together, they were like firecrackers. They surrounded each other for hours, being soft but not too gentle and hard but not too rough. They would enjoy each other's bodies with their hands and eyes, neither yet willing or wanting to make the first move to kiss and lick.

Instead, they would bite their own lips to keep from crying out. Their lips would be open in a silent invitation to press themselves against the other's lips, but neither took the chance. Their tongues would dart out to wet them aimlessly, trying to settle the urge to drag it down the other's body.

This was their fifth night together, the first being a little over two months ago. It started with a kiss. Jane was curious. Maura was willing. Somehow their clothes ended up on the floor and they were suddenly clawing at each other's backs and wrapping their legs around each other's waists. They hadn't kissed since that first one, Jane preferring to bury her forehead into the crook between Maura's shoulder and neck. Maura had the tendency to turn her head to the side or throw her head back. They never felt the need to kiss since that first one.

Jane sat up slowly, stretching out her sore limbs. She tightened her hands into a fist and felt her fingers slip against each other. She briefly considered a taste, but she'd told herself "never." Her body felt relaxed and tight at the same time, having worked Maura up so high so many times and having been worked up herself. She was sticky and hair was matted to her neck and back. She rolled her head from side to side and stole a glance at Maura's quick-breathing form, one hand rested over her forehead the other sprawled across her leg, barely brushing the wet spot where Jane was. Jane felt the urge to run her mouth against the soft curve of Maura's stomach, but thought against it.

"Thanks," Jane murmured, lowering her eyes before slipping out of Maura's large bed. Maura opened her eyes and watched as Jane left the room to pick up her clothes from the hallway and living room floor. Maura sighed internally. That was how Jane always left.

Maura pushed herself up on to her elbows, resisting the urge to call Jane back. It would be so simple. It was a one-syllable word. Jane would come if Maura called, but even when Maura quietly cleared her throat, her voice did not come.

She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, feeling Jane's hands on and in her like phantoms across her body.