Springtime in Paris (RPF, McDonnell/Bamber)
Title: Springtime in Paris
Author: so_frakked_up
Summary: Jamie and Mary, sans James, in the kitchenette.
Spoilers: Ummmm, Jules Verne Festival?
Pairing: Mary McDonnell/Jamie Bamber
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 2,250
Notes: This is the sequel to Guest of Honor. It's not required reading to understand this fic, but I highly recommend it. Originally written for the bsg_pornbattle Version 2.0. Also, as this is RPF, if you don't like it, please don't read it. :)
Disclaimer: Please consider this story as existing outside of any real personal relationship that these actors have with any other people. I’m a selfish, sick little fic writer. That being said, no copyright infringement or personal slander intended.
They're tipsy and it's Paris and it's springtime, and Mary cannot believe she's pulling this stupid shit again.
Two days in a row.
An extra day in the city means a chance to visit the Louvre, where she and Jamie are indistinguishable as they peruse Ariosto, Waldmüller, all the while pretending that a brush of a hand across a leg or his hand on the small of her back are platonic gestures.
They sit at the small, underrated sidewalk cafe where they're indistinguishable amongst the bustle of French streets, the roar of cars, the clicks of cameras finally not pointed at them, but at what's around them instead. They drink wine and talk about the people they think they know, about the art they just perused, but they don't talk about the night before with James. There's really nothing to be discussed.
They drink more wine. She feels lightheaded, more free.
This is Paris in the springtime.
They get back to Hôtel Fouquet's Barrière and they walk together to her room. An unspoken agreement passes between them as she slips the keycard into the door. Jamie's blue eyes convey approval with a side of hope.
Mary smiles downward and opens the door, leads him to the kitchen area and uncorks another bottle of wine. They toast to Jules Verne and drink, long draws on their wine while their eyes meet over the glasses.
She blames it on the wine when she ends up pinned against the counter. Jamie's firmly pressing his body into her, a little bit of a tease at first as she cocks an eyebrow at him, and then he's looking more deeply into her eyes, their mouths inches apart, and she feels her body start to flutter the way it did the night before.
They watch each other's expressions as their hands slowly begin a voyage over clothes, smoothing over the warmth of covered body parts. His hands slip over the sides of her tight thighs; her hands run down the toned muscle of his chest under his polo shirt. She feels her skin tingling inch by inch as he touches it.
When his hands move down to the hemline of her dress, Mary starts to breathe a little harder despite herself, their gaze unmoving. She tries to catch her breath as his fingers tease bare skin above her knee, then slide under the light fabric, cool against the heat of her legs.
"Tell me what to do," he says, and something inside her twinges, like a tightly wound string, plucked and humming.
"Don't stop," she whispers, pulling him closer.
He exhales slowly then and presses his face into her neck, and she feels rough stubble graze across her skin as he kisses her there. She hums in the back of her throat and leans against the counter more heavily as his hands move under her dress, up to her hips.
x x x x
Jamie can't believe he's pulling this stupid shite again, two nights in a row, but there's this part of him, actually the majority of him, that doesn't really care about the repercussions of fucking Mary again.
Her legs feel smooth under his palms and with every inch he travels upward, he feels his cock growing harder against her abdomen. He buries his face in her neck and smells her perfume, which is bloody amazing and intoxicating, and he tastes the slight hint of sweat on her neck, her soft moan making his head dizzy.
He holds her hips against the counter, his fingers tracing the waistband of her panties as he kisses and flicks his tongue against her neck. Mary's writhing slightly against his body now, her head to the side to allow him access to the tender skin he so desperately wants to taste. Her hands work their way up the front of his shirt and smooth-edged fingernails scrape over his nipples, sending a shiver down his spine.
"Fuck," he groans, and she moans in response, her leg hitching onto his thigh, wrapping around it, pulling him closer.
"Yeah," she whispers, pinching his nipples and making him gasp. "I'd like that, Jamie."
Bloody hell. The woman drives him crazy. He moves one of his hands between her legs and cups her over her panties, and fuck, is she hot and wet underneath that sheer sheath of fabric. He moves his mouth from her neck to her lips and kisses her hard, and suddenly this is less romantic and more frenzied, her mouth open to him, her tongue nearly forcing its way into his mouth. He accepts it and sucks on it with a groan, scraping his fingernails against the damp fabric between her legs.
Mary's hands move to the back of his head and she holds him there, and his lips nearly hurt from the force of her mouth. Her breath is hard against his cheek as she scrapes the back of his hair.
She feels amazing and he can't stop himself, and this is how he justifies his fingers sliding under her panties and working through her swollen, wet folds. Her tongue retreats quickly as she gasps open-mouthed against his lips.
"Oh, God," she breathes, panting. "Oh, God..." She falters for a split second, breathing onto his lips. "Jamie, fuck me, please."
This is Mary, holy shite, and Mary is begging him to fuck her.
He leads a pretty fucking charmed life indeed.
x x x x
Mary realizes she just begged Jamie to fuck her, but how could she not--the moment his fingers slid through her flesh she blushed at how wet she was for him, at how much she wanted his body pressed against hers, his mouth on her again, his cock buried deep inside her like it was the night before.
Jamie pulls his hand away and pushes her skirt up around her waist, then hoists her jerkily up onto the countertop. The tile is cold against her legs and the part of her ass not covered by her panties and she gasps and shivers, even as his mouth meets hers again. This time, he takes control, his tongue demanding, his lips bruising hers. She hears him unzipping his pants and feels him pushing down his underwear and she groans in anticipation.
Mary kisses him harder, sliding one hand down his chest to grab his cock, wrapping her hand around the hard, hot flesh. She gives him a jerk, pulling him closer, and he yanks his mouth away and bites at her neck, his teeth sinking in slightly.
"Jamie," she whispers, and she feels him push the fabric between her legs aside and her head starts spinning. He grabs his cock from her and she winds her arms around his neck. She feels him push against her, and she can't believe her panties are still on and she's on a counter and he's about to...
"Fuck, Mary," Jamie groans as his cock slides into her, filling her fully, and she immediately thinks of the moment, in the room with he and James, when she felt Jamie enter her for the first time. This is just as new, because it's only them, and she cries out at his first hard thrust into her, slick and wet.
Jamie doesn't waste any time building up a rhythm and she wraps her legs around his waist, trying to hold on, to keep up with him. His teeth snag her earlobe, her neck, her collarbone, and his stubble is going to leave a rash on her but she doesn't really care, and she's panting and twisting against his body as he holds her hips in place and fucks her hard, then harder.
She feels wild, ready to completely let go.
x x x x
Jamie enters Mary and it feels fucking amazing, just like the first time, except now it's just them, and it feels just as new.
She's tight around his cock and he groans at the surge of pleasure he feels radiate in his groin as she squeezes around him. He can't stop himself or pace himself, so he fucks her harder, faster, and she's doing one hell of a job keeping up with him, and he bites at any skin he can find, because he wants to take all of her. He wants to mark her as his, even just for a few bloody moments.
"Jamie," she groans through gritted teeth, and the way she says his name is so fucking sinful it nearly makes him come. She whimpers at a particularly emphatic thrust that he feels hit the end of her. He digs his fingernails into her hips and feels his body responding to her heat and her softness and the whimpers in the back of her throat, and the gyration of her hips into his.
His balls are tingling and he pulls away, slipping out of her quickly, then pulls one of her hips away from the counter. She gets it--she knows what he's doing, and she turns around immediately, bending over the countertop and showing him quite a nice view of her hot, black-satin clad ass. Her dress falls down over it slightly and he pushes it up her back again, then yanks down her panties.
Jamie hears her gasp as he shoves two fingers deep inside her without warning, to the knuckle. She spreads her legs further and looks over her shoulder, and as their eyes meet he silently thanks God for being so fucking lucky. Yes, she truly does drive him crazy.
He removes his fingers and replaces them with his cock, thrusting into her hard, her hips hitting the counter. She hums in what he thinks is approval.
"Okay?" he asks, sincerely hoping, praying she says yes.
"Yeah," she growls, pressing back against him. "Yeah, just do it."
x x x x
"Yeah, just do it."
Jamie's always been a good listener and he slips out of her and then glides back into her, all the way to the hilt, and she groans at the sensation of him entering her from behind like this. She stretches her arms out on the counter and braces herself, wanting more, needing more.
His hand slides around to her front and clumsily searches for her clit--she lets out a breathless laugh which is cut short when he finds it and rolls it between his fingers, sending a sizzle up her spine.
"Do you like that?" he asks as he starts fucking her harder again, his fingers rubbing circles on her swollen clit.
"I like it," Mary manages, feeling the ache of her orgasm building around his cock as he pushes into her, over and over.
"Me...too," Jamie gasps, and she feels him pressing against her body harder, and feels his thrusts get jerkier, but she stops paying attention to his movements and feels her body start to spasm around him as her orgasm hits her hard. She feels it sear her from the inside, from where he's buried inside her outward, and she tilts her head back and cries out with each thrust now, because he doesn't stop, nor does she want him to.
Mary quivers around him and she feels a tug on her hair as he grabs onto it. "Yeah, Mary, fuck," he groans, and his hips hit her ass hard and grind deep into her, and he must be coming, and she's still shivering around him as he falls onto her slightly, his breath coming in pants.
They don't speak, only breathe, and remain in this position for what seems longer than the thirty seconds or so it actually is. He feels almost comforting on her back, still deep inside her, and he lets go of her hair and she rests her cheek on her arm, closing her eyes.
"I..." Jamie starts. She hears him sigh heavily, then feels his weight rise off of her back. He pulls out of her slowly and she feels the wetness dripping down her thighs.
"You?" she says. She feels him pull her dress down over her hips with a tug and smiles at the gesture.
"I don't even fucking know," he concedes with a soft laugh.
Mary pushes off of the counter and turns around to face him. He's got an expression of confusion mixed with smugness on his face and she puts one hand against his cheek, then kisses the other.
"Thank you," she says, looking into his eyes.
"You don't have to bloody thank me," he says. "I got a lot outta that too."
She laughs and looks down, then back up at him again. "This can't continue, you know."
Jamie's expression softens from smug to slight disappointment, yet he nods. "No. It can't."
Mary kisses him on the lips, and this kiss is chaste, the kind of kisses she used to give him when they were working on the show, before any lines were crossed, before she even had an inkling of a thought of how this could possibly happen. Twice. In two days.
"I'll see you around," he says, pulling away with a halfhearted smile.
"You will," she affirms, crossing her arms across her chest. She can smell the mix of his cologne and her perfume, of his come and her own, and the reality of it all sets in.
Jamie bends down to pull up his shorts and pants. He runs a hand through his hair, then gives her a cocky grin, the kind he's known for, the kind everybody loves.
"Do I look freshly fucked?" he asks.
She laughs. "Absolutely fucked, Jamie."
"Good," he says, then leans in to kiss her cheek quickly. "Have a good trip back stateside, Mary."
"Thank you," she answers with a quick ruffle of the front of his hair. He smiles at her, then pulls her hand away from his head and kisses her knuckles before pulling away.
She watches him leave, hears him close the door firmly behind him.
"Fucking Jules Verne Festival," she says with a sigh.
She blames springtime in Paris.
Author: so_frakked_up
Summary: Jamie and Mary, sans James, in the kitchenette.
Spoilers: Ummmm, Jules Verne Festival?
Pairing: Mary McDonnell/Jamie Bamber
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 2,250
Notes: This is the sequel to Guest of Honor. It's not required reading to understand this fic, but I highly recommend it. Originally written for the bsg_pornbattle Version 2.0. Also, as this is RPF, if you don't like it, please don't read it. :)
Disclaimer: Please consider this story as existing outside of any real personal relationship that these actors have with any other people. I’m a selfish, sick little fic writer. That being said, no copyright infringement or personal slander intended.
They're tipsy and it's Paris and it's springtime, and Mary cannot believe she's pulling this stupid shit again.
Two days in a row.
An extra day in the city means a chance to visit the Louvre, where she and Jamie are indistinguishable as they peruse Ariosto, Waldmüller, all the while pretending that a brush of a hand across a leg or his hand on the small of her back are platonic gestures.
They sit at the small, underrated sidewalk cafe where they're indistinguishable amongst the bustle of French streets, the roar of cars, the clicks of cameras finally not pointed at them, but at what's around them instead. They drink wine and talk about the people they think they know, about the art they just perused, but they don't talk about the night before with James. There's really nothing to be discussed.
They drink more wine. She feels lightheaded, more free.
This is Paris in the springtime.
They get back to Hôtel Fouquet's Barrière and they walk together to her room. An unspoken agreement passes between them as she slips the keycard into the door. Jamie's blue eyes convey approval with a side of hope.
Mary smiles downward and opens the door, leads him to the kitchen area and uncorks another bottle of wine. They toast to Jules Verne and drink, long draws on their wine while their eyes meet over the glasses.
She blames it on the wine when she ends up pinned against the counter. Jamie's firmly pressing his body into her, a little bit of a tease at first as she cocks an eyebrow at him, and then he's looking more deeply into her eyes, their mouths inches apart, and she feels her body start to flutter the way it did the night before.
They watch each other's expressions as their hands slowly begin a voyage over clothes, smoothing over the warmth of covered body parts. His hands slip over the sides of her tight thighs; her hands run down the toned muscle of his chest under his polo shirt. She feels her skin tingling inch by inch as he touches it.
When his hands move down to the hemline of her dress, Mary starts to breathe a little harder despite herself, their gaze unmoving. She tries to catch her breath as his fingers tease bare skin above her knee, then slide under the light fabric, cool against the heat of her legs.
"Tell me what to do," he says, and something inside her twinges, like a tightly wound string, plucked and humming.
"Don't stop," she whispers, pulling him closer.
He exhales slowly then and presses his face into her neck, and she feels rough stubble graze across her skin as he kisses her there. She hums in the back of her throat and leans against the counter more heavily as his hands move under her dress, up to her hips.
x x x x
Jamie can't believe he's pulling this stupid shite again, two nights in a row, but there's this part of him, actually the majority of him, that doesn't really care about the repercussions of fucking Mary again.
Her legs feel smooth under his palms and with every inch he travels upward, he feels his cock growing harder against her abdomen. He buries his face in her neck and smells her perfume, which is bloody amazing and intoxicating, and he tastes the slight hint of sweat on her neck, her soft moan making his head dizzy.
He holds her hips against the counter, his fingers tracing the waistband of her panties as he kisses and flicks his tongue against her neck. Mary's writhing slightly against his body now, her head to the side to allow him access to the tender skin he so desperately wants to taste. Her hands work their way up the front of his shirt and smooth-edged fingernails scrape over his nipples, sending a shiver down his spine.
"Fuck," he groans, and she moans in response, her leg hitching onto his thigh, wrapping around it, pulling him closer.
"Yeah," she whispers, pinching his nipples and making him gasp. "I'd like that, Jamie."
Bloody hell. The woman drives him crazy. He moves one of his hands between her legs and cups her over her panties, and fuck, is she hot and wet underneath that sheer sheath of fabric. He moves his mouth from her neck to her lips and kisses her hard, and suddenly this is less romantic and more frenzied, her mouth open to him, her tongue nearly forcing its way into his mouth. He accepts it and sucks on it with a groan, scraping his fingernails against the damp fabric between her legs.
Mary's hands move to the back of his head and she holds him there, and his lips nearly hurt from the force of her mouth. Her breath is hard against his cheek as she scrapes the back of his hair.
She feels amazing and he can't stop himself, and this is how he justifies his fingers sliding under her panties and working through her swollen, wet folds. Her tongue retreats quickly as she gasps open-mouthed against his lips.
"Oh, God," she breathes, panting. "Oh, God..." She falters for a split second, breathing onto his lips. "Jamie, fuck me, please."
This is Mary, holy shite, and Mary is begging him to fuck her.
He leads a pretty fucking charmed life indeed.
x x x x
Mary realizes she just begged Jamie to fuck her, but how could she not--the moment his fingers slid through her flesh she blushed at how wet she was for him, at how much she wanted his body pressed against hers, his mouth on her again, his cock buried deep inside her like it was the night before.
Jamie pulls his hand away and pushes her skirt up around her waist, then hoists her jerkily up onto the countertop. The tile is cold against her legs and the part of her ass not covered by her panties and she gasps and shivers, even as his mouth meets hers again. This time, he takes control, his tongue demanding, his lips bruising hers. She hears him unzipping his pants and feels him pushing down his underwear and she groans in anticipation.
Mary kisses him harder, sliding one hand down his chest to grab his cock, wrapping her hand around the hard, hot flesh. She gives him a jerk, pulling him closer, and he yanks his mouth away and bites at her neck, his teeth sinking in slightly.
"Jamie," she whispers, and she feels him push the fabric between her legs aside and her head starts spinning. He grabs his cock from her and she winds her arms around his neck. She feels him push against her, and she can't believe her panties are still on and she's on a counter and he's about to...
"Fuck, Mary," Jamie groans as his cock slides into her, filling her fully, and she immediately thinks of the moment, in the room with he and James, when she felt Jamie enter her for the first time. This is just as new, because it's only them, and she cries out at his first hard thrust into her, slick and wet.
Jamie doesn't waste any time building up a rhythm and she wraps her legs around his waist, trying to hold on, to keep up with him. His teeth snag her earlobe, her neck, her collarbone, and his stubble is going to leave a rash on her but she doesn't really care, and she's panting and twisting against his body as he holds her hips in place and fucks her hard, then harder.
She feels wild, ready to completely let go.
x x x x
Jamie enters Mary and it feels fucking amazing, just like the first time, except now it's just them, and it feels just as new.
She's tight around his cock and he groans at the surge of pleasure he feels radiate in his groin as she squeezes around him. He can't stop himself or pace himself, so he fucks her harder, faster, and she's doing one hell of a job keeping up with him, and he bites at any skin he can find, because he wants to take all of her. He wants to mark her as his, even just for a few bloody moments.
"Jamie," she groans through gritted teeth, and the way she says his name is so fucking sinful it nearly makes him come. She whimpers at a particularly emphatic thrust that he feels hit the end of her. He digs his fingernails into her hips and feels his body responding to her heat and her softness and the whimpers in the back of her throat, and the gyration of her hips into his.
His balls are tingling and he pulls away, slipping out of her quickly, then pulls one of her hips away from the counter. She gets it--she knows what he's doing, and she turns around immediately, bending over the countertop and showing him quite a nice view of her hot, black-satin clad ass. Her dress falls down over it slightly and he pushes it up her back again, then yanks down her panties.
Jamie hears her gasp as he shoves two fingers deep inside her without warning, to the knuckle. She spreads her legs further and looks over her shoulder, and as their eyes meet he silently thanks God for being so fucking lucky. Yes, she truly does drive him crazy.
He removes his fingers and replaces them with his cock, thrusting into her hard, her hips hitting the counter. She hums in what he thinks is approval.
"Okay?" he asks, sincerely hoping, praying she says yes.
"Yeah," she growls, pressing back against him. "Yeah, just do it."
x x x x
"Yeah, just do it."
Jamie's always been a good listener and he slips out of her and then glides back into her, all the way to the hilt, and she groans at the sensation of him entering her from behind like this. She stretches her arms out on the counter and braces herself, wanting more, needing more.
His hand slides around to her front and clumsily searches for her clit--she lets out a breathless laugh which is cut short when he finds it and rolls it between his fingers, sending a sizzle up her spine.
"Do you like that?" he asks as he starts fucking her harder again, his fingers rubbing circles on her swollen clit.
"I like it," Mary manages, feeling the ache of her orgasm building around his cock as he pushes into her, over and over.
"Me...too," Jamie gasps, and she feels him pressing against her body harder, and feels his thrusts get jerkier, but she stops paying attention to his movements and feels her body start to spasm around him as her orgasm hits her hard. She feels it sear her from the inside, from where he's buried inside her outward, and she tilts her head back and cries out with each thrust now, because he doesn't stop, nor does she want him to.
Mary quivers around him and she feels a tug on her hair as he grabs onto it. "Yeah, Mary, fuck," he groans, and his hips hit her ass hard and grind deep into her, and he must be coming, and she's still shivering around him as he falls onto her slightly, his breath coming in pants.
They don't speak, only breathe, and remain in this position for what seems longer than the thirty seconds or so it actually is. He feels almost comforting on her back, still deep inside her, and he lets go of her hair and she rests her cheek on her arm, closing her eyes.
"I..." Jamie starts. She hears him sigh heavily, then feels his weight rise off of her back. He pulls out of her slowly and she feels the wetness dripping down her thighs.
"You?" she says. She feels him pull her dress down over her hips with a tug and smiles at the gesture.
"I don't even fucking know," he concedes with a soft laugh.
Mary pushes off of the counter and turns around to face him. He's got an expression of confusion mixed with smugness on his face and she puts one hand against his cheek, then kisses the other.
"Thank you," she says, looking into his eyes.
"You don't have to bloody thank me," he says. "I got a lot outta that too."
She laughs and looks down, then back up at him again. "This can't continue, you know."
Jamie's expression softens from smug to slight disappointment, yet he nods. "No. It can't."
Mary kisses him on the lips, and this kiss is chaste, the kind of kisses she used to give him when they were working on the show, before any lines were crossed, before she even had an inkling of a thought of how this could possibly happen. Twice. In two days.
"I'll see you around," he says, pulling away with a halfhearted smile.
"You will," she affirms, crossing her arms across her chest. She can smell the mix of his cologne and her perfume, of his come and her own, and the reality of it all sets in.
Jamie bends down to pull up his shorts and pants. He runs a hand through his hair, then gives her a cocky grin, the kind he's known for, the kind everybody loves.
"Do I look freshly fucked?" he asks.
She laughs. "Absolutely fucked, Jamie."
"Good," he says, then leans in to kiss her cheek quickly. "Have a good trip back stateside, Mary."
"Thank you," she answers with a quick ruffle of the front of his hair. He smiles at her, then pulls her hand away from his head and kisses her knuckles before pulling away.
She watches him leave, hears him close the door firmly behind him.
"Fucking Jules Verne Festival," she says with a sigh.
She blames springtime in Paris.