by Lila Dubois
When the story heated up again, Jane slipped into her room to grab a notebook
Michael leaned back, stretching out one long arm and pulling Jane to rest against him. She settled herself in place, loving his body heat soaking into her side and back, and made notes about what he’d just said and what the story potential was.
Distracted by her writing, Jane didn’t notice when the episode ended, or that, rather than move on to the second episode, thereby falling into her trap of wasting a night watching a whole season, Michael had turned off the TV.
One bronzed hand reached over Jane’s shoulder, stealing the pen and slowly closing her notebook. Jane was about to snatch her pen back when she noticed the tension that flowed off him. She could feel the pressure of his attention on her, as palpable as the heat his body emitted. Desire radiated off Michael.
“It’s time, Jane.” His voice was a low rumble in her ear, his lips only inches from her.
“Time for what?” she whispered, though she knew the answer.
“Time to play.”
He stroked her cheek, and then turned her head so he could kiss the corner of her mouth.
“Michael, I’m scared.”
“I know.”
Then he was gone, rising from the couch and clearing the remnants of dinner off the low coffee table. When he came back he held his hands out to Jane.
Mouth gone dry, Jane placed her hands in his, and let him raise her off the couch. His face was a stone mask, offering no quarter, but his eyes were hot with his desire.
“Take off you clothes,” he rumbled.
“Here? Now? Just like that?” she squeaked.
“Yes. Take off your clothes, Jane, and do it now.”
Jane grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt and pulled it off before she had time to freak out. Next she stripped off her socks. And that’s as far as her bravado got her. She needed to remember this was just for fun, just play. But then why did it feel so important?
Jane considered refusing, considered making him undress her. Then, later, she could tell herself it had been all his fault, she was merely a well-pleasured victim. But Jane wasn’t that girl, and even knowing that there was no future with him, she would not lie to herself about her participation, even if that would make the eventual heartbreak easier.
Jane closed her eyes, and took off her shirt. She was wearing a bra, a simple cotton thing, but it was thin, and her erect nipples pressed out.
Michael made a small noise, and Jane’s confidence ratcheted up a notch. She reached for the waist of her sweatpants, but he stopped her.
“No, your breasts first. I want to see them.”
Jane, eyes still closed, reached back and un-did her bra, pulling it off.
“Hmmm, beautiful,” Michael said. “They are lovely, very pale. I can see the blood moving through them. Your nipples are a lovely pink, and very large.”
“Michael…”
“Yes?”
“Why are you doing that, talking about me like that?”
“Everything I’m saying is true.”
“But why do you need to say it out loud?”
“Because talking during sex, talking about what you see, taste, smell and feel, heightens the experience. Soon I’m going to make you do it too, Jane, but for now I’ll let you hide and keep your eyes closed. Remove the rest of your clothes.” His voice hardened on the last sentence, becoming a command.
Jane’s breath caught, and she felt moisture flood her sex at his command. She didn’t like bossy, arrogant men, she shouldn’t be aroused by that. She should want to kneecap him. What was wrong with her?
Hooking her thumbs in the waistband, she slid her sweats off. Her pink bikini panties were all that stood between her and Michael.
“Your legs are beautiful. I noticed them before. Long and curvy, very pretty. Remove that pink thing.”
Jane grabbed her panties, and bent to take them off, stepping out of them. She paused like that, hiding herself with her posture, and then slowly, her nerves trembling, stood straight.
“Oh yessss,” Michael said. “Very pretty, and with nice blonde hair. I like that. No more hiding, Jane, open your eyes.”
Jane opened her eyes. The moment she did, her nakedness became real. Michael stood before her fully clothed, elegant and powerful, while she was naked and vulnerable. She started to cross her arms over her chest, but he stopped her, grabbing her hands.
“You will not hide from me, Jane. You’re mine.”
Jane’s breath quickened, her nipples drawn tight, her legs trembling from the potent mixture of fear and arousal.
“I haven’t seen all of you, yet. Stand on the table.”
“On…on the coffee table? You want me to stand on it?”
“Yes.” He tugged on her hands, pulling her to the coffee table. Without really thinking about it, Jane stepped up.
“Much better,” Michael murmured, circling her. “You have a delightful ass, very soft-looking, with two cute little dimples near the top. Your hair is very pretty, I like the way it lays on your shoulders.”
He circled around to the front, and looked her over. He was eye-level with her breasts.
“You are beautiful, Jane, and very naughty for having hidden this beauty from me.”
She shivered at his words and Michael raised a brow. “What made you tremble, Sleeping Beauty? Was it the word ‘naughty’?” She bit her lip. “It was. That makes me think that my Sleeping Beauty would enjoy being called a naughty girl and maybe…punished.”
Jane moaned, but shook her head. Of course she didn’t want that.
“I think you are a very naughty girl, Jane, and that you will be punished for it. I know about making pleasure pain, and pain pleasure, and about playing games, but I must say the things I’ve discovered about human sexuality since Luke told me Lena enjoyed her spankings have really opened my eyes. I actually like humanity better after doing some…research into its favorite vices. You have all the delightful dominance and pain games we have, but some other very creative items. Role-play is one we’re going to try…”
Jane was startled by the reference to her friend, but Michael’s words were coming to her as if she were underwater. She felt like she was in a trance, each delicious, dark thing he said feeding the trance. Her entire body was flushed with arousal. She was scared her sex was so wet that if she were to stop pressing her knees together he’d be able to see it.
“Yes, my Sleeping Beauty, we will do all those things. But for now it is time for you to stop hiding from me. Spread you legs.”
“Michael, I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I’m…embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed to let me see your sex? You shouldn’t be, for she and I are going to become very intimately acquainted. Or are you embarrassed by how wet you are? I’ve been able to smell your arousal since before you finished undressing. I know you want this. I know you are enjoying this. Spread your legs and let me see the proof.”
Her gaze on him, Jane slowly stepped wide. Cool air hit her sex. Michael continued to look into her eyes for a moment, before he dropped his gaze to her sex. Jane almost died of embarrassment when he crouched to examine her better.
“Beautiful. Your sex is beautiful. I can see how wet you are, and it’s incredibly erotic.”
Jane looked down at her own naked body, wondering if she could see the beauty he claimed was there, but no, it was still just her body, same as always. Breasts, too small, thighs and hips in dire need of muscle toning.
Michael sat on the couch, relaxing as he continued to watch her.
“Are you just going to sit there, looking at me?”
“Yes.”
Jane closed her eyes, her imagination going wild.
“I’m going to sit here and look at you, admire you, memorize you.”
Michael’s voice was low, his words gentle. Jane imagined that same voice whispering words not so gentle and she shivered.
“What are you thinking, Jane, what
are you imagining?”
“You’re a sultan, looking to buy a new concubine at an auction, or, or…a pirate, examining the woman he’s just kidnapped.”
Jane could practically taste salt in the air as her traitorous imagination sunk her into a fantasy staring Captain Michael.
“Oh, my beautiful Jane, you are perfect.”
She opened her eyes as he rose from the couch.
“Arms up,” he ordered, and Jane lifted her arms in the air, resting her wrists on top of her head. “Watch my hand,” he commanded, laying his much darker hand against her belly.
Jane dropped her head and watched, her breaths coming quick in anticipation as he rubbed her belly. His hand moved in ever-widening circles, until he brushed the bottom of her breasts. He cupped one breast, palm covering the painfully erect nipple. Jane jerked into his touch. She was sensitive from the prolonged arousal.
He kneaded her breast in his hand, watching her bite her lip. “We’re going to have a lot of fun this week.” He plucked her nipple a few times before cupping her other breast, this time rubbing her nipple back and forth with his thumb.
“Michael, please…”
“Please what? Do you want me to stop?”
“No, more, please!” Jane begged, sure that if he didn’t touch her more, alleviate the desperate need that clouded her mind, she would die from it.
“Jane, tell me what you want.”
“You, just you. Touch me more.”
“Where?”
“My pussy.”
“What kind of touch do you want? Do you want pinches or strokes? Light or soft?”
“I…I don’t know. I didn’t know there were so many options. Please, Michael.”
“My poor girl has not known the pleasure she should have. I’ll just have to teach you.”
One hand remained on her breast, the other settling on her belly and sliding down until he cupped her sex.
“Your body is hot, and you are very wet, beautiful Jane.”
“Please…”
One finger dipped inside her, finding the pool of wet heat. Michael pressed a second finger between the lips of her sex, and then slid those two fingers back and forth, stroking her from the entrance to her body to her clit. His fingers pressed around her clit, rubbing both sides at once, lightly pinching it before sliding back to stroke the inner lips of her sex.
“I… Oh…that, that feels so good,” Jane panted. Her hands were clenched into fists. When one particularly perfect touch to her clit caused Jane’s whole body to jerk, she put her hands on Michael’s shoulders, using him for balance.
“Michael, please, more…”
“I will, but I want you to stop clenching you belly so tight. You’re trying to force the orgasm. You’re scared it won’t happen, but I promise you it will. Relax your belly.” He slid his hand from her breast to her lower abdomen, his hand spanning the space between her belly button and curls. “Relax and the pleasure will be much greater.”
Jane barely understood what he was saying, so great was her arousal, but she relaxed the muscles in her belly. The next time his fingers brushed her clit her toes curled.
“Ohh, that’s nice.”
“And this?” He used a single finger to circle her clit, maintaining a steady pace.
“I like that too. Ohhhh, I like that better.”
Michael continued to play with her, Jane now talking non-stop about what he was doing and how it made her feel. He was right, talking made it much, much better.
“I like it when you touch my clit like that. But I want your fingers inside me too, and pinch my nipple, ohh like that. Harder. Ow! No, do it again.”
Michael leaned in, capturing her bare nipple in the hot vise of his mouth. He sucked hard, raking her nipple over his teeth, and Jane let out a little yelp of pleasure.
Both nipples and her sex were subject to a non-stop stream of sensation. Again and again he circled and brushed her clit, pinched and sucked her nipples.
He was still fully dressed, master of the situation even as she begged and demanded that he pleasure her more and more. She stood on the table, naked and vulnerable before him, presented like an object for his pleasure. She stood on the table before him, a goddess secure in her beauty, elevated above him, demanding his service.
“Michael, I-I can’t, I need…”
“Tell me.” He murmured around her nipple
“I feel like you’ve been winding me up, all my muscles are tight again, but it was slow. The tension is…is…”
“Do you like this? Feeling like this, hovering near orgasm?”
“Oh yes.”
“Then you’ll like this even better.”
He slid his other hand from her breast to her sex. Using one finger he began circling her clit at a rapid pace. He slid his other hand between her legs, and slammed two fingers up inside her.
Her orgasm ripped through her, wave after wave of pleasure, taking her to a place where she forgot everything, everything except the man who held her. Jane’s body sighed in pleasure, knowing it was finally in the hands of a skilled connoisseur.
Jane choked out a sob as the pleasure dissipated, her trembling legs giving out.
Michael caught her, lifting her in his arms. Jane pressed her face into his neck as after-gasms shook her.
“Beautiful Jane,” he murmured, carrying her into the bedroom.
Jane was shaking with the force of what had just happened. She felt soft and vulnerable in a way that scared her, even as she craved a repeat performance. His tender care, the way he cradled her in his arms and kissed her forehead, was somehow just as powerful and intimate as the orgasm. When Michael set her down on the bed, murmuring meaningless things as he tucked a blanket around her, all Jane could think was that her friends were right—it was going to be a very long, dangerous week.
Chapter Eleven
“String Theory?”
“No idea.”
“Parallel Dimensions?”
“Huh?”
“Space-time portals?”
“I know that one!” Michael’s exclamation startled Jane into typing “alksjebr”.
“Finally,” she said, erasing the nonsense. “So, tell me about portals. Are they real? Do monsters use them? Can humans use them?”
Michael sat up and frowned in thought. He’d been slumped on the couch, arm across his eyes, radiating dislike of Jane’s Q&A session. She sat at her desk, fingers poised over the laptop keys.
“Portals, portals… Oh, actually I’m just thinking of Stargate.”
“Michael!”
“What?”
“You are so aggravating.”
“You’re annoyingly persistent.”
“Persistence is a good quality.”
“Persistence is good in relation to sex and food. The rest is just annoying.”
“Calling me names isn’t going to get you anywhere.”
“You said we can’t have sex, or lunch, until you get through this hellish list, I’m already not getting anywhere.”
“I wouldn’t have to go through this ‘hellish list’ if you would volunteer information.”
“You know everything you need to know. We’re monsters. Humans are taking over the planet, our people are panicking and we need to tell the humans the truth about us. There’s your story.”
“Right, I’ll just write that down, print it out, and voila, we’ll have a screenplay. Everyone knows screenplays are that easy to write.”
Jane slammed her laptop closed and stacked notebooks and pens on top of it. She yanked the plug out of the wall.
“Whoa,” Michael said, alarm coloring his voice, “what just happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh man… Luke told me about ‘nothing’. Nothing means I fucked up. What’d I fuck up?”
“Nothing.”
“Shit.”
“If you give me a minute to put away these silly things, we can go to lunch and then have mindless, nostrings-attached, no-hope-for-the-fut
ure, not-sex.” Jane stomped into the bedroom.
Damn. Michael grabbed Jane’s cell phone off the table and called Lena. Luke had told him that when Lena was freaking out Jane had been able to talk some sense into her. Maybe Lena could tell him what had just happened.
He figured out the contacts section, located Lena’s name and hit the green button.
“Heya, hot stuff, how was your first night with Michael?” the voice on the other end answered.
“Lena, this is Michael.”
“Oh, hello. Wait, what’s wrong, what happened, where’s Jane? If you hurt her I will cut off your balls with a rusty spoon.”
“And monsters have a reputation for violence… I don’t know what’s wrong with Jane. Everything was fine, and then she got this funny look on her face and started slamming stuff around. Then when I asked her what was wrong she said ‘nothing’.”
“That’s bad. Start from the beginning and tell me everything you said.”
Gaze warily on Jane’s bedroom door, Michael related the conversation. When he finished Lena summed it up with “you dumbass”.
“Thanks for your help.”
“Listen. Jane takes her craft very seriously. There are a lot of people out there who talk about writing a screenplay as if it were nothing. People seem to think it’s easy, when in reality it is incredibly hard. It bugs Jane that people don’t value how hard it is. Michael, I need you to listen to me. Everything rides on the screenplay. Without an awesome script we won’t be able to shop the project, this will never get off the ground and everything you’ve done will be a waste. I was all for Jane working exclusively with you, mostly because I knew you were into her, and I thought you’d be good for her. But this is strike number two as far as I’m concerned. Either man up, stop hiding and cooperate with Jane, or you’re off the project.”
Michael pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it in astonishment.
“Did you hear me? If you don’t start participating and treating her better I’m taking you off the script aspect. Henry can take your place.”