DISCLAIMER: Rizzoli & Isles and its characters are the property of Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro and TNT television network.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To raedmagdon[at]yahoo.com

What I Want
By Rae D. Magdon


Sexuality, I have learned, is a very complex and fluid thing. It requires several sections of the brain and nervous system to work in tandem, with such synchrony and finesse that researchers still have difficulty studying it. Female sexuality, especially, is a most complicated subject. It is still not fully understood, and I myself cannot understand it completely on an intellectual level.

Sex is something I can only feel.

Until this moment, my instinct has been to serve. To be held tight in strong arms, to be coaxed into submission by firm hands, to kneel and to beg, to offer my body up for the pleasure of my lover along with my heart. Despite some opinions to the contrary, I do have a fully functional heart (in the metaphorical sense, of course), and it has been showing itself more and more frequently since I became involved with Jane.

But I have decided that tonight will be different. Tonight, instead of being possessed, I want to be the possessor. I want to make her cry out as I drive her past the point of release. There is a need in me, a need to make Jane, strong, stubborn, wonderful Jane, break down completely so that I can build her back up piece by piece with my love.

Merely thinking about how this scene will play out sends my body humming. It will not be anything too extreme, not compared with what we have already done in our usual roles, but the simple idea of having Jane submit to me has my head reeling. I desire to possess her, and although it is a new desire, it is incredibly strong nonetheless. I want to imprint myself on her soul, erasing the memory of anyone who came before me and making anyone who comes after meaningless. Secretly, I hope that no one comes after.

Jane is on her way home from work. I know this because she texted me fifteen minutes ago before she left the station. My plan is to assault her as soon as she walks in the door to my house. She probably suspects that we will make love tonight – it is Jane who introduced that term to me, claiming that intercourse was too clinical for use in such an intimate setting. I have not told her that she is the first person I have truly made love with, the only one that I have wanted with my heart and not just my body. She is a romantic, but she is a shy, closeted romantic. She becomes skittish when her emotional boundaries are pushed, but I plan to push them tonight.

Picturing the scene that I am hoping for sends possessive energy shuddering through my body, and I embrace it, letting it spread to my every cell. I release the energy I have been holding back, letting it radiate from me in waves. Jane will feel it as soon as she sees me. I check the clock for the third time in the past two minutes, thinking that Jane had better not get stuck in traffic. I am not sure how long I can wait like this.

I indulge myself for a moment and imagine what tonight might be like. I know Jane will not submit easily. I picture her fighting the soft sounds she wants to make as I smooth my hands down her firm stomach, sweeping up again to palm her breasts, torturing their sensitive tips in the way I know she likes, but never admits to enjoying. I don't understand why she always tries to hold back when I am the one touching her, but I hope to break her of that habit.

My fantasy has a direct effect on my already excited body, and I feel blood rush to fill the space between my legs, making me ache for her even more. I consider touching myself to relieve some of the pressure – I don't want to rush this thing with Jane, and it has to be gone about very carefully so that I do not put her off – but decide against it. Release is always so much more delicious when it is delayed.

The sound of keys in the lock startles me, and I stand up taller, straightening my spine. I must remain confident. I breathe deeply, letting my desire radiate to my every pore, knowing that Jane will sense it as soon as she comes in.

Slower than I expect, my lover finally opens the door and steps inside. Jane's eyes instantly lock on mine, and she gives me a loose grin, eyeing me up and down. "Is today no-clothes-day, Maur? I didn't get the memo."

When I don't respond to her quip with an exasperated sigh or a deadpan literal observation, her cheer transforms into confusion. Her gaze runs up and down my body, pausing at my eyes. Slowly, the searing look travels down to my breasts, and Jane sucks on her lower lip slightly as she observes the hardened pink tips. I feel the burn of her eyes as they finally settle between my legs, stroking the nest of neatly trimmed golden curls there and swollen, shaved lips almost like a hand would.

She does not look away as she removes her coat and hangs it on the rack, taking more time than usual because she refuses to watch what she is doing. I feel my heartbeat pick up, and I am pleased that I have captured her attention so easily simply by presenting myself to her naked. Once she finishes with her coat and slips out of her shoes, she takes a few steps forward, waiting for me to lower my eyes, hold my hands behind my back like a good girl, or even settle into her arms. When I don't move, her eyebrows lift in surprise and confusion.

Jane begins to smile, mistakenly thinking that she understands what will happen between us now. "I guess you want to be a bad girl tonight, then?" she teases, stepping forward and reaching out to caress one of my breasts.

I grab her wrist firmly, using a grip she has taught me, and twist just enough to show her that she is not allowed to take liberties yet. Then, I weave my fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and pull her forward into a crushing kiss. It only lasts for a few moments, but I can tell that Jane is stunned. I pull away only a few centimeters. "No. Tonight, you're the girl."

"Hate to break it to you, Doctor Isles, but we're both girls," Jane says, attempting humor in order to escape the intense feelings that are rushing between us faster than breath or sound. "Didn't they teach you that in medical school?"

I punish her with a sharp nip to her collarbone, making her cry out in pain as my teeth sink in to her tender, unmarred flesh. She tries to squirm away, but eventually goes slack in my arms as I soothe the sting. "Allow me to correct myself," I breathe into her ear once I am finished. "Tonight, you're the bitch. I intend to claim you."

For just a moment, she gives me an unguarded response. I feel her sag against me, the stiffness in her muscles melting away in a wash of heat as she abandons her proud posture for just a moment. Then, just as suddenly as it left, the steel returns. It is a small victory, only momentary, but a victory nonetheless. I have enough confidence to move forward now.

Jane tries to bring our lips together again, but I pull back before our mouths can meet. She groans in protest, surprised that I have refused her despite our previous altercation.

Although Jane is a highly intelligent woman, sometimes she is so slow. Past experience has taught her that my body is hers to plunder and possess, and I realize that I must teach her differently.

"Patience, Jane. You haven't earned another kiss from me yet."

My detective gives a frustrated grunt, obviously unhappy at being made to wait, but her struggle will only make her later surrender so much sweeter. I let go of her hair, and when she does not try to touch me again, I resist the urge to smirk at her. Another point for me.

I trace the features of her handsome face with my fingers, outlining her lips and sweeping across her cheek with the pad of my thumb. Jane's eyelashes lower as she closes her eyes, and her mouth opens ever so slightly. I take advantage of the opportunity and slide my thumb inside, feeling a pulse between my legs as she kisses the tip and then takes it between her lips, caressing it with her tongue. I catch her hip with my other hand, gripping it firmly enough to remind her who is in command of the situation, and she lets it stay there.

Then, just as she is sinking into the submission I have been craving, Jane forgets herself and reaches for me, desperate for the fruit hanging from Tantalus' branch.

I grip both of her wrists and force them in front of her, pulling as close as possible so that I can speak right beside her ear. "No, Jane, not yet." She ignores me and tries to break free of my hold, but I stop her with a few more carefully chosen words. "I want you to do everything I say."

"Why should I?"

I click my tongue disapprovingly at her. "Because if you don't, I'll leave you hanging. You wanted to make love to me tonight, didn't you?"

Jane groans, her hands balling into fists and hanging stiffly at her sides when I finally release them. My body draws close to hers, sharing heat through the thin fabric of her shirt. Keeping my movements torturously slow, I undo the buttons. "If you stay good for me, I promise to make it worth your while. If you don't... If you don't, I'll have to let your ache," I let her shirt fall open and reach one hand between her legs, cupping the warmth I find there through her trousers, "go unsatisfied."

Jane wars with herself for a moment, fighting down her instincts and resisting the temptation to pin me against the nearest surface and make me eat my words. Her knuckles flex as her fingernails bite into her palms. Finally, she lets her shoulders drop just a little and lowers her eyes, staring at her feet. It isn't a verbal answer, but an answer nonetheless.

"If you don't want this, you know how to get me to stop, right?" Jane nods silently, and I pat her lightly on the cheek. The special word that I use whenever things between Jane and I become very intense is hers now.

"I don't want you to stop," she says, her voice hoarse.

Even though it is lovely to hear such submission in my sweet Jane's voice, I take ownership of her mouth again and cut off her words. When we are kissing, there is less room for doubt. A moan vibrates in the back of Jane's throat as my tongue pushes past her lips, dancing with hers and taking possession of her warm mouth.

"Then say please." Slowly, Jane looks up, and as she stares at me with such dark eyes that I am sure I have pushed too far, too fast.


The word is almost lost beneath the loud hammering of my own heartbeat. My breath catches.

I allow myself a moment to savor my victory, but only a moment, because I want to reward Jane for accepting everything I want to give her. I am touched that the strongest woman I know has willingly given herself over to me, and I am determined not to make her regret her choice.

"How sweet," I purr throatily. "I think I should reward you."

This time when I kiss her, there is no argument, no resistance, just delicious surrender. I nibble on her lower lip, tugging it until she gasps. Part of her wants to struggle against the unfamiliar sensation, but she remains still for me and I soothe the place where my teeth sank into her lip with the soft heat of my tongue. She even moans slightly when I pull away, and that makes me smile.

Holding my hands behind my back, I walk a full circle around her, observing her from every angle. She is so perfect, so beautiful, but I want to see her body unencumbered. "Strip, Jane." There is no give in my voice. I want to see as much as Jane's flesh as possible, and quickly. Then, perhaps, if she continues to be good for me, I will get around to touching her.

My strong detective's hands shake as I stand in front of her, hands on hips, watching her expectantly. "I'm waiting."

It amuses me how quickly Jane's fingers fumble with her pullover. It is not a slow tease, but the revealing of her bare skin excites me nonetheless because it means that she is eager for more. Her bra follows her shirt onto the floor, and she wastes no time unzipping her pants and wiggling out of them as well. When she gets to her boxers, however, she glances up at me with uncharacteristically shy eyes.

I suddenly understand that, although I have seen Jane naked dozens of times, this is something more.

Finally, she bares herself completely with one quick tug of the elastic. Her boxers drop to her feet and I smile as they hit the carpet.

"Very good. I like what I see," I say with a growl in my voice, motioning for her to come closer.

She pads forward on soft, bare feet, her hands loose now instead of tightened into fists. Having her close to me is tempting, and I decide that it is all right to touch her now. My hands slide up and down her curves, enjoying the swell of her hips, a lovely feature that is usually hidden by her clothes but that, in this moment, makes her seem so utterly feminine. My fingers are drawn to her nipples, which I can't resist tweaking, and her hips push forward slightly against empty air. I think about punishing her, but then wonder if she even knows that she has done it.

"Tell me how much you want me," I order, using that as a compromise. My hands begin a fuller massage of her breasts, and she sucks in a quick breath. I do not intend to make answering easy for her.

"So much, Maura. You can feel if you want."

I consider that. Since her all too brief struggle, Jane has been so incredibly sweet and pliable, and I am unable to help myself. She sighs and quivers as I release her nipples and drag my nails down her stomach, leaving faint white lines that quickly disappear, but her head falls back and her eyes slam shut as two of my fingers probe between her legs. They circle her entrance in one direction, then another, occasionally flicking up but stopping just below her clitoris. Whenever I come close to that hard little point, she shakes to try and keep her hips still. Somehow, she understands that I am not ready to touch her there yet, and she is showing her obedience by taking only what I choose to give.

I can feel Jane's wetness pooling in the palm of my hand, and it encourages me to dip inside her just the barest little bit. "My goodness," I say, pretending to be surprised by the slippery heat I have discovered. It thrills me that I am the cause. "You really need this, don't you? My poor girl..."

She pleads silently with me, frustrated that I have not gone deeper, and eventually I thrust up and forward, making her gasp and nearly lose her balance. Jane does not usually enjoy penetration as much as I do, but tonight, I can tell she is absolutely aching for it. I curl my fingers slowly, stroking and petting her from the inside, and she lets out a soft little cry, a mixture of relief and the desire for more.

"Maur – ahhhh! Can't stand... I'm gonna..."

I am not sure whether Jane is going to come, fall onto the floor, or both, so for caution's sake I remove my hand and slide my arms around her waist, helping her onto her knees and finally lying her down on the carpet. No longer in danger of collapsing, Jane grabs my hand and thrusts it back between her legs, rolling her hips against the heel of my hand and groaning out her pleasure. I pull back instantly, kneeling over her and glaring down angrily at her heaving chest. "No," I say firmly, reaching down to grip her shoulders and digging my nails into her skin just the slightest bit too far. "You need to wait your turn."

I see comprehension dawn in Jane's eyes and she runs her tongue over her lips, excitement replacing her frustration. I have always been shy about this position before, but now, kneeling over Jane, I am confident in myself. I scoot forward until my knees are beneath Jane's arms, and I allow her hands to caress my lower back in order to help me keep my balance. "Only use your mouth," I instruct her as I lower myself over her face, enjoying the way her head must rise just a few inches to meet me. She looks up past my breasts, waiting for permission. "Go ahead. Impress me."

It is all the encouragement Jane needs. Her tongue sweeps greedily between my lips, seeking out my entrance and probing forward before I can catch my breath. My back arches, and I am unable to keep myself from pressing more firmly into her mouth. Jane's tongue has always been able to unravel me quickly. She lets out a muffled cry of pleasure as she wraps her lips around me and sucks, forming a seal with her mouth and sending stars spinning around my head.

Before I realize what has happened, my hand is wrapped in Jane's hair again and I am pulling her even tighter against me. "That's it – just there," I sigh, chin tilting up and making my hair tickle between my shoulder blades. "Oh yes..."

My words are clearly encouraging, because Jane sucks even harder, the tip of her tongue darting over me in endless swirling patterns. I briefly wonder if she is drawing the alphabet, because the strokes are never consistent, but forget that thought as my pelvis rocks faster against her chin. "So good, Jane," I murmur as I clutch the back of her head even tighter.

Ignoring my harsh grip, Jane doesn't pause for breath as I grind out my release against her mouth, trying her best to follow the erratic jerk of my hips and work every last pulse from my core. At last, I fall back onto my hands, panting for air and allowing her a few inches of space to breathe. Normally, I know she would replace her tongue with her hand, cradling me gently until I recovered, but she remains still since I have not given her permission to touch me with anything but her mouth.

"Your tongue," I gasp, still trying to catch my breath and calm my racing heart, "is very talented. I think you've earned your reward."

I stretch out beside her on the floor, letting my hand trail lazily over the dips and valleys of Jane's beautiful body. Whenever I stroke the sensitive band between her hipbones, her stomach muscles tighten beneath the skin. She parts her thighs for me, spreading them as wide as she can, putting aside her pride in the face of her need for me. I allow my hands to stroke closer to the place she has invited me so sweetly to touch. "Is there something I can do for you?" I ask, using my most innocent voice, but it is still laced with sex despite my best intentions.

Jane knows that she must speak to get what she so clearly wants, but she is reluctant. "Maura – want you... please..." She is barely able to gasp out that broken sentence, but I haven't heard what I need from her yet. She will just have to try harder.

"Speak up, Jane," I coo at her as my hands stroke her inner thighs, trailing up and down, tracing the shape of her outer lips, occasionally teasing her clitoris through its hood, but never delving into her heat.

Finally, the dam breaks and the words come from her in a flood. "Inside, please! God, Maura, fuck me! I want you to fuck me!"

Even if I wanted to, I can't deny her any longer, and I slam my fingers back into her, using my thigh to add force to the motion. I give her what she asked for, slow and hard and as deep as I can reach, not allowing her a moment's respite. I want it to be just on the edge of too much. That's how I enjoy it best, and I want Jane to experience the same bliss that she gives me every time we make love.

Her hands remain above her head, leaving her breasts exposed to my eyes and the air. It allows me to see every twitch of her stomach and the rapid rise and fall of her broad chest. Her velvety inner walls tighten around my fingers, warmth spilling over into my hand as she tries to keep me as deep inside of her as possible. "I want you to come for me, Jane," I tell her, both giving permission and urging her to submit to the pleasurable torture that burns through her instead of fighting to extend it. "Give me everything you have."

Her pelvis freezes and there is silence for a split second before a scream tears from her throat. I am grateful that we are at my house, because in Jane's apartment, surely we would have alerted the neighbors. I look on in awe as every inch of my lover's body pulls tight for me, shivering uncontrollably before dissolving into a blissful warmth that is emotional as well as physical. I can feel it radiating from her in strong pulses.

I keep moving within Jane until the last of her spasms fade. When I finally pull my fingers away, she responds with a soft, disappointed whimper. Trying to replace the emptiness inside of her, I press kisses to her forehead, her eyelids, and her proud cheekbones. Her face is happy and content and utterly satisfied, all of the strain smoothed away.

"You see?" I breathe, trailing my wet fingers along her inner thighs and making her squirm beneath me, "I told you that submission would be rewarded."

Jane's eyes remain closed, but she manages to find the strength for a few words. "Mmm. Guess you're just special enough to make submission worthwhile for me."

The End

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