Erotic fiction by Michele London
Jane kept her head down, focusing on the algorithms on the screen in front of her, and not on the smirk and the dark, lowered eyes that were staring at her from the other side of the room.
“Your brother’s not here,” she said without looking up.
“It’s not him I came to see.”
She pursed her lips and ignored him, again. Minutes ticked by, and still he hadn’t left.
“I’m really busy, you know. Do you need something? Or can this wait?”
The heavy rhythm of his boots on the linoleum floor echoed off the sterile walls of the lab. He came to stand beside her, towering head and shoulders over her, and slid his hand down her arm to still her fingers on the keypad.
“You know what I want,” he said, his mouth close to her ear.
Jane knew he could sense the quickening of her pulse and the flush of heat that rose across her skin, but she pretended they weren't there anyway.
"If you want me to go, just say the words," he said. "Do you, Jane? Is that what you want?"
The tablet slipped from her hands onto the table as she closed her eyes and took a steadying breath.
"I don't know."
“I would never have left you the way he did,” he said, pressing a soft kiss on the back of her neck, “alone. For two years. I need you. You mean everything to me.”
He pulled her back against him until their bodies were flush and wrapped his hands around her waist. “I love you,” he said. The gravel in his voice had softened to something she hardly recognized in him, and it melted her as well.
“Let me, Jane. Let me love you.”
“It’s not right.”
“For who? My oaf of a brother who’s left you here? Me, who desires you? Or you, who deserves happiness for once, in this whole ordeal?”
She turned around to face him, to tell him all the reasons why not. But his icy eyes, and the way they bore into her, destroyed her resolve. He was right, with all his silver-tipped words; she did want this, had for quite some time, and had only let the last fading vestiges of loyalty to a love that clearly was never to be get in the way of what would truly make her happy.
So instead of talking she sank deeper into his arms and let him kiss her. He was gentle with her, taking her mouth in soft caresses and short pecks until his lips wandered down her throat and left a cold trail in their wake.
Jane refused to think or care or listen to the old worries; the old concerns swirling in her brain about what she ought to do. She ignored all those things until only her body remained, her flesh and the way it responded to his touch.
He peeled away the lab coat she wore and let it fall to the ground, kissing her again, stroking her face with his slim, strong hands. She backed up until her bottom hit the edge of the counter and then he was lifting her up onto it. She sat and wrapped her legs around his thighs, pulling him closer.
“I want you,” he said, burying his face in her neck.
She fumbled with the buttons and zipper on her jeans, shoving the rough denim down her legs until there was nothing but the cold steel of the lab table against her skin.
He found the sensitive mound in her folds and rubbed her with a touch that was almost magic. Jane struggled to contain her mounting exclamations as he drove her higher and higher, knowing exactly the rhythm and the pressure that she needed to swoon.
“In me...in me, now,” she panted.
Her head was swimming with the madness of what they were doing, with the impossibility that it had finally come to be.
When he entered her, sliding deep into her core, pressing the fabric and metal of his clothing up against her thighs, a bolt of delicious heat shot through her. She shuddered against him as he took up his rhythm in earnest. He was wide, so much wider than she had expected, and he prodded a place inside her that very soon began to stir her into action once again.
He held her to his chest as he pumped his sex into her, caressing her hair and her back, embracing her as tightly as if he were afraid she would disappear; as if he, too, were marvelling that this was real.
“Jane...oh god, Jane!”
He grasped her hips and flung himself upon her as his orgasm overwhelmed him, heaving unsteady breaths and dropping his head back. Slowly, they pulled away. He helped her to dress again, and she pushed her hair back behind her ears, suddenly unsure of what to say.
“I meant what I said, Jane. I love you. If you’ll have me.”
Jane met his eyes and saw in them a future she hadn’t envisioned stretching out over a universe she had never seen. And for the first time in a very long time, she felt as though things made sense.
Michele London is an author, editor, and romance consultant with Scarlet Girl. She is a regular contributor to Scarlet’s Letter and the archive of articles at ScarletGirl.com. She writes dark fiction and erotic fantasy, and dips into real-life tales of sexy for the lovely ladies as a Scarlet Girl pleasure party consultant in the San Francisco Bay Area.
If you like this bit of erotica, and would like to see more, please let us know.
In the meantime, for 10% off the items of your choice from ScarletGirl.com, just enter code "LAB13" into the Coupon Section at checkout.