Inexplicable Part Two - Not Ever...

[9_things]

  
   
  


Title - Not Ever
Type - Soppy Smut
Rating - NC17
Pairing - River/Jayne
Spoilers - None that I can see.
Disclaimer - Not mine, didn't get paid (not likely), please don't sue.
Warning - This is not beta'd.
Notes:  This is what happened when Jayne dragged River out of the cargo bay just after they got married (as described in Inexplicable

Not Ever

The Justice of the Peace, a kindly faced woman, (even if she did look a bit witchy) smiled and reminded him that he could kiss the bride.

Jayne grinned at River, his wife, all crushed up against his chest. “Hell I’ve bin doin’ that every chance I get since she lost her mind n’ took up with me.”

Chest to chest he finally noticed at least part of her wedding dress and it completely distracted him from kissing the woman inside it. It was cunningly designed to emphasise his wife’s small breasts by pushing them in and up, as a result she was spilling out of the top.

He stepped back and looked his fill.

“Who-hoo! Now that is all kinds of shiny!”

Inara gave a surprisingly unladylike snort of laughter. “Have you only just noticed?”

“Weren’t lookin’ at her dress, too busy lookin’ at her,” Jayne replied.

“I might as well have sent her to the alter naked,” said Inara pretending to grumble but smiling. Zoe, standing a little away from everyone else choked and covered her mouth with one hand. Mal just glared at Jayne in a fatherly fashion.

“Awwwww!” cooed Kaylee, grinning, glowing, and squeezing the life out of Simon who seemed fascinated by his shoes, even though he was smiling.

The dress, Inara’s present to the bride was moulded to his wife’s torso. Every one of her curves was emphasised to the maximum. Every breath involved heaving bosoms and in Jayne’s opinion, the imminent danger that they would burst right out of the dress. A notion that he was more than happy to give head room to. The skirt fell to the floor in a long swirl like a spill of cream.

It was beautiful and sexy and he supposed white was supposed to look virginal, but the look in his wife’s eyes was nothing like that as she stared back at him.

He stalked around her, one hand trailing along her shoulder, so that he could get a look at the back. There were a lot of tiny buttons; Jayne frowned at them because they looked fiddly. River tensed and took an instinctual step backwards, nestling her back into his front. She pulled his arms around her waist and looked up at him, her face all upside down.

From that angle Jayne could see the dress straining as she breathed. She was breathing fast and then faster as she watched his eyes trail across her body.

Jayne wasn’t entirely sure he was breathing at all; he knew he was light headed because every drop of blood had gone south. There was just too much. The sight of her lips all red and plump. The sound of her breath hissing through her teeth. The feel of her trembling inside his arms. The smell coming of her, a glorious mix of warm spices and her own special scent. He pushed his face into her neck, just for a moment, so that he could taste the skin there, over her pulse point. She tasted like salt and honey to him.

Involuntarily his arms tightened around her. River gave out the quietest little breathy grunt from the back of her throat. It drew an answering, deeply lustful growl from him.

There was a movement somewhere, someone shuffling their feet. Jayne spared a glance for the rest of the crew who were all pretty much mouths open, eyes glazed. Mal even had an arm round Inara absently stroking her waist.

Even the Justice of Peace, who looked about seventy, was a bit flushed

Only Zoë was looking at them differently, like they were the most painful and wonderful sight in the verse all at once.

Mal’s thumb, on Inara’s side drifted a bit further north than he’d consciously intended and Inara’s jump and squeak brought him back to earth with a thump. He cleared his throat and snatched his hand away “Just kiss her already,” he grumbled, “I need a drink.”

“Yeah,” said Kaylee vaguely, hazy eyed “kissing would be good.”

Jayne looked at his wife thoughtfully for a moment, then grabbed her hand and dragged her laughing out of the cargo bay.

“Where are you going Cobb?” yelled Mal.

“Gonna kiss ma wife.”

“Can’t y’all do that here?”

“Not the way I’m plannin’.”

As Jayne barrelled down the corridor, towing River behind him, he heard Mal, doing his favourite thing, giving an order. “Ain’t no one gonna leave the cargo bay ‘till they get back. Ain’t a chance in hell they’re gonna make it to their bunk.”

Kaylee’s breathy laughter and faintly the voice of the Justice squeaking, “Oh my!” followed them down the corridor.

Jayne stopped in the waiting area outside the Infirmary and looked around; he rejected the room as somewhere with uncomfortable memories and set off again, River’s hand tight in his. They headed through to the passenger dorms. Jayne was thinking of River’s old room, unused for months. It was the first place he’d got to sex her up and therefore the first place he ought to sex her up now that they were wed. He was starting a tradition.

The crew had been using the room as storage for small items. The bed was detached from the wall and propped up against it; the room was cluttered with boxes, small engine parts and tins of food that Mal had picked up cheap. It looked like Kaylee had been at work because some of the panels were off the walls, wiring cascading down and across the floor.

He pulled his wife to him and looked down at her again, tight in his arms. She looked back up at him, her face triumphant, loving and plain wanton. The heat in his belly swelled and expanded until he was filled with it, right down to the tips of his fingers.

Her lips were parted, her eyes glazed, her skin flushed, the moment was too perfect. He didn’t want to move, just wanted to look at her.

A shade of impatience crept into his wife’s face and he just had to chuckle. Her hands crept up to the back of his head and tried to pull his face to her’s. He resisted, just to make her a little mad.

“I will hurt you Zhang Fu!” she hissed, eyes narrowed.

His heart beat danced when she called him husband for the first time. He chuckled again; just a deep little rumble in his chest and her face lost its impatience and got that glazed eyed hungry look he loved. There were things that never failed to turn his wife to jelly, including any one of his growly noises, his bare arms, the hair on his stomach and looking in her eyes a certain way. He had them all catalogued and used them without mercy, deeply, deeply grateful for them.

The hands on his head tugged at him. He dove in for a knee-crumbling kiss; his arms squeezing her to him, trying to make them one body though all the irritating layers of clothing.

When he broke the kiss, an agonised moan and insistent hands trying to pull him back rewarded him. He used the most devastating weapon in his arsenal, his smile, the ‘I’m gonna show you every pleasure there is in the verse’ grin and it stilled her, while his hands gathered and pulled at the fine fabric of her skirt.

Reading his intentions, knowing how and where he wanted to kiss her now, she whimpered and dropped her hands to his shoulders, pushing him down.

He knelt and disappeared under her skirts.

There was a filmy scrap of white lace where he wanted his mouth to be. He considered it a moment, his hands moving, griping and sliding over her thighs, his breath puffing on her wet heat making her shiver and moan and sink her fingernails into his shoulders.

He kissed and nibbled at the fabric, then ran his tongue slowly over the lace; it was oh so wet and tasty. Her hips bucked and she all but shrieked. Her hands scrabbled on his shoulders, puling at his shirt, insistent that he stand up.

With a last quick nuzzle, making her shudder and keen he gave her what she wanted and stood, looking into her clouded hot eyes. Her hands went straight to his fly, frantically popping buttons.

“Can’t wait baby?” He huffed with what little breath he could muster. She just shook her head and pulled him out. Once he was free, she turned her attention to the buttons on his shirt.

Reaching round her working on his clothes he examined the front of her dress with greedy eyes and hands. He ran his caloused fingers over the mounds of her breasts, feeling them rise and fall, barely held in place by the dress. On one side the top of her areola was peaking over the fabric. Jayne traced the curve of it with his thumb, digging under the material to find the hard nub hidden there. She jumped and panted, her hands speeding up on his shirt.

The dress was laced up at the front, Jayne tugged at the laces as River scrabbled, irritated with her trembling hands at his buttons. The laces got in a knot and frustrated he broke them. He wanted his mouth on her there just once before he got inside her.

His wife gave an aggravated moan and gave up trying to undo his shirt. Copying her husband she tore it open, buttons popping and flying. She dragged it off his shoulders and kept yanking until the cuff buttons flew off and it slid to the floor.

River’s fingers dug into his bare arms and pulled him to her, insistently. Her eyes burned across his chest and down his arms. She made a desperate noise in her throat and put her mouth on one of his biceps, licking and biting across to his chest, until her mouth was full of him, until she was groaning and grinding herself into him.

The silk of her dress was exquisite, rubbing against his skin as she pushed herself against him. His head fell back, lost in the feeling of the fabric against his flesh, her hands, her mouth and her teeth. His hands tangled in her hair, pushing her mouth to him. His eyes started to roll back in his head.

Frantic not to loose everything before he’d even got inside her he pushed her back a little, against a wall, so that he could scoop out a breast. He placed his mouth open on her softness, sliding his tongue over the tip, as hard for him as he was for her. He growled into her flesh and her hips bucked while she made desperate needy noises that were far, far too much.

He had to get inside her.

Frantically he pulled and bunched up the skirts of her dress. She practically climbed up him to wrap her legs around his waist. Once he had her placed he reached between them. His eyes fixed on hers he took hold of the delicate lace that lay between them and tore it away from her.

This action nearly sent River screaming over the edge. She tried to hold herself back, her eyes huge, her teeth digging into her lip, her nails drawing blood on his shoulders, her breath bursting from her mouth. She thrust herself towards him, shifting her hips, seeking him out, until she found him, for once needing no guiding hand and swallowed him into her, fully and completely.

Once he was home they froze, every breath tight in their throats, so close they were scared to move. They stayed like that for breathless seconds until he couldn’t stop himself from grinding his hips into her, trying to get further when there was no further to get. They gasped, each breath ending on a grunt or a moan.

He put his mouth on hers so that they could share their breath and as one, they pulled back and slammed together, everything tight and unbearable.

Once, twice, three times

The whole verse stopped

For both of them

Balanced itself

And exploded in shards and splinters full of light and hollered out jumbled, tumbled names and words, clenching and throbbing and gushing, again and again and again.

There was Silence, no breath, no words, no thought.

Until

Gales of laughter floated into the room from above, they both looked up, startled. There was a plate missing from the ceiling, leading to a duct through which the laughter of the crew was rattling, clearly audible.

Faintly again, they heard the flustered voice of the Justice saying “Oh my...”

He groaned and pressed his forehead to his wife’s, “They ain’t never gonna let us forget this.” He puffed through a smile.

“Good,” panted River, “Don’t want to, not ever.”