Economy of Reaction
Economy of Reaction
by templemarker
Notes: For the “wrist/ankle restraints” square of my 2011 kink_bingo card. Thank you to samjohnsson for ninja-like editing skills and taking the R&I plunge to better beta this story. No spoilers beyond the pilot and the premise.
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“And what if your tactics were used against you, Detective?”
Maura looked like something out of an old catalogue, a silk nightie on with subtly contrasting robe, a pair of her dangerous heels on, hair artfully tousled. She was, as she always was, the most gorgeous thing Jane had ever seen.
“Maura, I’m tired,” Jane tried, already knowing it wasn’t going to work. “Can’t we just go to bed?”
Maura smiled, mouth painted MAC Russian Red and curved to wickedness. “No,” she said, and the way she said it made Jane shift uncomfortably on the bed. She was just in a pair of stretchy pants and an old t-shirt, nothing to write home about. Who dressed up to go to bed?
Maura walked around to the side of the bed, every step a saunter and sway that couldn’t help but draw Jane’s attention. She placed one hand on the bed, next to Jane’s waist, and bent down so their heads were close together. “I’m talking about force tactics, Jane,” she whispered, some heady scent coming from the heat of her skin. “How about we turn the tables?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Maura,” Jane said hoarsely, sleep very far from her thoughts and her heartbeat thudding in her chest.
Maura kept her eyes on Jane’s, and drew her hand from behind her back, revealing a pair of handcuffs. They were cheap, the kind Jane could break with a little time and a hairpin, nothing like her own police issue pair that made it into the gun safe alongside her badge as soon as she got into her apartment. They were the least intimidating things in the world, but in Maura’s hands, dull silver next to red nails, they looked like something powerful.
Carefully, very carefully, Maura took Jane’s right hand and drew it up to the slats of the bed. The click-click-click of the first cuff resounded through the room, and sent a shudder through Jane’s body. Maura brought Jane’s wrist to her lips, kissed the thin flesh over fragile bones there softly. Jane let her eyes slip closed, but as soon as the metal touched her skin they flew open again to meet Maura’s unwavering gaze.
Click. Click. Click. She looked up the length of her arm and saw her hand dangling loosely from the bedframe, and swallowed, trying to push back the thread of adrenaline that wove through her.
“Is this okay?” Maura asked quietly, running fingertips up and down the sensitive skin of Jane’s inner arm, eyes never moving from Jane.
Jane thought about it, really thought about it. It wasn’t the first thing she would’ve jumped to in bed; there were memories there that could rise too easily to the surface, and thin scars on her palms that she mostly hid in fists.
She had always thought of herself as easy, pretty much there for the fun and the getting off. It had never been too complicated to get pleasure. Sure, she’d been with people that had wanted stuff she hadn’t immediately been excited about–the guy that wanted to suck her toes didn’t last very long, and the other guy that had wanted her to smack his ass while they were doing it was really nice, but not sticking around material.
This, though. This was something Maura wanted, wanted to do to her. With her. For her? Jane wasn’t really sure, and it didn’t quite feel like she could ask without making it a thing. But in principle, she didn’t think she was freaked out by it, wanted to overwrite any bad thoughts with good ones. And if she was going to do that, she wanted to do it with Maura.
Not to mention, Maura looked really pretty with the light behind her hair, and okay, fine, it made her blood pressure spike a little bit because she wasn’t sure there was a hairpin in reach.
“Yeah,” she said finally, watching Maura smile, pleased. “Yeah, it’s okay.”
Maura stood, shrugging out of her robe and stepping out of her shoes before climbing on the bed, straddling Jane’s legs. With slow, precise motions, Maura tucked her fingers into the waistband of Jane’s pants and slid them down, making Jane shudder a little when the cool air from the a/c hit her skin. She wished she’d shaved at the gym that afternoon; she wished she’d worn her sexy underwear instead of the black Jockeys that got her through the work week. Maura never seemed to mind, though, and it didn’t stop her from running her hands up and down Jane’s thighs.
Jane couldn’t help but exhale a moan; it always felt so damn good when Maura touched her, like Maura enjoyed it as much as she did being touched herself. It was sexy to be wanted that way. Maura always made her feel desirable, even when she was criticizing Jane’s wardrobe.
It didn’t take much for Maura to get Jane to open her legs, let Maura touch her, blow air over her that made Jane shudder and bite off a curse. Maura just laughed, ducking down to lick into Jane, something Jane never expected but loved more than just about anything else.
Jane’s eyes flicked up to where her hand was still dangling from the headboard, her hand starting to tingle. She tried to push up, to better shift against Maura, but Maura put a hand over Jane’s free wrist, grounding her, holding her against the mattress by the heat of Maura’s palm, so she couldn’t move. Or, she could move, she could throw Maura off easily, but she wasn’t going to do that, not to the woman who cared about her and fucked her and loved her, told her so every day. So Jane closed her eyes, made her body relax and release the tension she was holding up everywhere, and just felt.
Maura knew every trick in the book, told some really goddamn dirty stories about private school and the girls who taught her how to do that thing she did with her tongue. Jane didn’t care how Maura came by the knowledge, just thanked God every damn day that Maura wanted to be in her bed, share her life with Jane. Jane heard the noises escape her mouth, felt her back arch, nearly locked her knees around Maura’s head but managed to just hold herself rigid while the pleasure washed over her, receded, and then came again when Maura worked her fingers inside and hit that spot that made Jane crazy.
When she came down from it, Maura was lying next to her, looking at her with that sphinx smile on her face, tiny handcuff key held between two of her red-tipped fingers.
“You liked that,” Maura said smugly.
Instead of agreeing, Jane tried to put on her grumpy face and said, “You could’ve at least let me take my shirt off first. It’s kind of ugly.”
Maura looked thoughtful. “That’s true. I do really like your breasts.”
Jane groaned and covered her face with her free hand, but she couldn’t really hide her smile.