Falling Through the Ice (Jack/Liz, bad)
Title: Falling Through the Ice
For: Porn Battle VIII
Prompt: 30 Rock, Jack/Liz, bad
and
Challenge: lover100
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Genre: het
Table: C
Prompt: #5, Writer's Choice
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~1450
Summary: He shouldn't have come. They shouldn't have done this.
Feedback/comments always appreciated.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Don't sue
Jack swirls his fingers around her hot, wet center a few more times before pulling them out, then transfers them immediately into his mouth. He sucks them clean, the slick accumulation of Liz’s arousal dancing over his tongue as she gasps for air beneath him.
She tastes exactly the way he remembers.
When he unhooks her bra and tosses it to the ground, her soft breasts feel the same in his hands. Her nipples respond the same way when he closes his lips around them. She’s just as amazing as she ever was. And infinitely more arousing than his memories of her, locked away in his dreams and fantasies since he lost her.
Still very out of breath, she pulls him up by the neck, brings his mouth to hers. She kisses him like she still desires him, still loves him even. Like she won’t regret what they’ve done and are about to do.
She spreads her legs wider around his waist, pushes her hips up against him. Her soaking wet sex rubs against his boxers, and his throbbing cock inside them. He aches to push inside her so badly but he’s forced to restrain himself.
He pulls back, acutely aggravated with himself. “Shit, Liz, I’m sorry. I have to stop. I’ll be right back.”
She grabs his unbuttoned shirt with all her might, lustfully pants, “What?! What’s the problem?”
“I don’t have a condom. My suitcase is down in my room. I didn’t anticipate needing one.”
Her sharp exhalation sounds enraged. “Jesus, just shut up and fuck me. I can’t wait any longer.”
A shiver runs through him when Liz reaches inside his boxers, strongly grasps his erection, pulls it up and over the waistband. She pushes the vexing fabric down and guides his cock to her entrance, demands in a breathless whisper, “Now, Jack.”
“Oh, Liz,” he groans and pushes inside her.
“Yes, God yes,” Liz moans over and over.
Her arms and legs wrap tighter around him, holding him all the way down on top of her. He feels like the weight of his body might crush her but she’s not letting go. She clamps her hands on his flexing buttocks, forcing his hips lower and his cock deeper inside her. The adrenaline surges through him, their frenzied lust more pleasure than he’s felt in ages.
Liz’s hands move higher up his back, under his shirt, sliding easily against his damp skin. Her freshly manicured nails dig into his flesh so hard she breaks the skin. The pain is seething but he doesn’t care. He’s missed her too much. Missed her in his arms and in his life.
It’s been so long since they’ve had sex like this, as hard and as fast as they can. Liz is insatiable. She keeps pushing her pelvis up against him, begging him to fuck her harder. Her hands, balled into fists and striking his back, added to her stifled, agonized whimpers make it evident she’s in pain, but she keeps asking for more. Her repeated requests insinuating he may hurt her more if he doesn’t oblige. So he does.
In a flash, he moves his arms under her knees, shoves her legs higher and further apart. He thrusts back inside her as quickly as he can; plunges deeper, harder, faster than he can ever remember. She cries out several times until her noises turn into nothing but erotic gibberish. She can barely open her eyes and look into his. She groans what sounds like his name and reaches behind his back to bring him down on top of her again.
They’re moving wildly, grinding against one another violently. Her familiar gasps echo in his ear and he can feel her start to clench around him. Her climax peaks and it’s so unbelievably arousing. Before he can stop himself, he’s coming too. Still thrusting at breakneck speed, he ends up coming mostly outside of her. His thick cum smears all over his cock and her sex, some dripping down onto the expensive hotel sheets.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he grunts.
Liz says nothing. Just relaxes her arms and legs, mercifully allowing him to collapse down onto his back next to her. They’re both covered in sweat, desperately fighting to breathe. His heart is racing, his chest heaving so fast it feels like there isn’t enough oxygen in a mile wide radius to quench their loud panting.
When they’ve cooled down enough to converse, she remains silent. He has no idea what to say. He’s still in a state of shock. Shocked she asked him to come up to her room, shocked to hear of her intense apprehension about getting married, shocked that she kissed him. Shocked most of all by her almost masochist desires when they ended up in her bed. Besides the obvious insanity of them sleeping together the day before she’s supposed to marry another man, he’s not sure what came over her. He assumes she was subconsciously trying to punish herself. That she wanted to be physically hurt, forced to feel pain as some sort of penance for committing such a terrible transgression with him.
The sound of her cellphone beeping, denoting a voicemail or text message, perhaps both, breaks the silence in the room. She gets out of bed and retreats into the bathroom with her purse. He hears her on the phone with him, making up some story about accidently putting the ringer on silent. Then she has to call her mother, telling more lies to cover up what she’s really been doing and who she’s been with the past couple of hours.
She comes out in a fresh bathrobe, says quietly, “I need you to go now, okay?”
“I understand.” He gets up and starts to get dressed. “Are you going to be alright?”
She barely looks at him, only giving him the slightest of nods.
“Is he coming back soon?”
“No. He’s out with his brothers and buddies and stuff. I probably won’t see him until tomorrow.”
They look at each other wordlessly for far too long. Until he crosses to her, lightly brushes his lips over her cheek and whispers goodbye.
Hours later he’s nowhere near sleep, just lying in bed thinking about her, the two of them, their past and uncomfortable present. He already knew letting her go was the worst decision of his life. Seeing her again, doing such bad things with her just makes it all the more painfully obvious.
His self-loathing continues until he hears a quiet knock on his door. He quickly opens the slew of hotel room locks, revealing the woman he still adores on the other side. The woman he should be marrying in a few short hours.
Her face is streaked with recent tears. “I...I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He takes her hand and brings her inside, offers her a drink, thinking the time for them to talk is long overdue. Nothing of substance is exchanged between them until she slides over to his side of the couch.
A few more beats of silence, then, “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t deserve that, Liz. You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Then and now.”
She’s again the one to initiate the first kiss. This time it’s unhurried, soft and gentle.
He knows they shouldn’t, more than enough damage has already been done, but he follows as she leads him to the bed.
They take their time, making slow, passionate love like they did so many times in the past. It’s intimate, loving, euphoric.
He holds her close afterwards, on the verge of saying “I love you” so many times but the words don’t come out. What good would they do now? She’s moved on, found someone else who wants the same things in life. Someone able to give, and give up for her, what he was not.
When she speaks, her tone is flat and tired. “This is so bad. I’m such a horrible person.”
He kisses her shoulder. “You’re scared. And vulnerable. And I shouldn’t have come here.”
She sits up and moves to the edge of the bed, wrapping herself in the blanket. She looks back over her shoulder, says, “I have to go.”
“I know.”
She redresses quickly in more painful silence. Just before opening the door she turns around. “Am I making a huge mistake?”
He steps closer, looks into her gorgeous brown eyes. “I’m the one who made a mistake.”
He drives back to New York a few hours later before the ceremony even begins. He passes the ‘Now Leaving White Haven’ sign, sadly knowing it’s the last time he’ll likely see either the sleepy town or Liz Lemon again.
END
For: Porn Battle VIII
Prompt: 30 Rock, Jack/Liz, bad
and
Challenge: lover100
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Genre: het
Table: C
Prompt: #5, Writer's Choice
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~1450
Summary: He shouldn't have come. They shouldn't have done this.
Feedback/comments always appreciated.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Don't sue
Jack swirls his fingers around her hot, wet center a few more times before pulling them out, then transfers them immediately into his mouth. He sucks them clean, the slick accumulation of Liz’s arousal dancing over his tongue as she gasps for air beneath him.
She tastes exactly the way he remembers.
When he unhooks her bra and tosses it to the ground, her soft breasts feel the same in his hands. Her nipples respond the same way when he closes his lips around them. She’s just as amazing as she ever was. And infinitely more arousing than his memories of her, locked away in his dreams and fantasies since he lost her.
Still very out of breath, she pulls him up by the neck, brings his mouth to hers. She kisses him like she still desires him, still loves him even. Like she won’t regret what they’ve done and are about to do.
She spreads her legs wider around his waist, pushes her hips up against him. Her soaking wet sex rubs against his boxers, and his throbbing cock inside them. He aches to push inside her so badly but he’s forced to restrain himself.
He pulls back, acutely aggravated with himself. “Shit, Liz, I’m sorry. I have to stop. I’ll be right back.”
She grabs his unbuttoned shirt with all her might, lustfully pants, “What?! What’s the problem?”
“I don’t have a condom. My suitcase is down in my room. I didn’t anticipate needing one.”
Her sharp exhalation sounds enraged. “Jesus, just shut up and fuck me. I can’t wait any longer.”
A shiver runs through him when Liz reaches inside his boxers, strongly grasps his erection, pulls it up and over the waistband. She pushes the vexing fabric down and guides his cock to her entrance, demands in a breathless whisper, “Now, Jack.”
“Oh, Liz,” he groans and pushes inside her.
“Yes, God yes,” Liz moans over and over.
Her arms and legs wrap tighter around him, holding him all the way down on top of her. He feels like the weight of his body might crush her but she’s not letting go. She clamps her hands on his flexing buttocks, forcing his hips lower and his cock deeper inside her. The adrenaline surges through him, their frenzied lust more pleasure than he’s felt in ages.
Liz’s hands move higher up his back, under his shirt, sliding easily against his damp skin. Her freshly manicured nails dig into his flesh so hard she breaks the skin. The pain is seething but he doesn’t care. He’s missed her too much. Missed her in his arms and in his life.
It’s been so long since they’ve had sex like this, as hard and as fast as they can. Liz is insatiable. She keeps pushing her pelvis up against him, begging him to fuck her harder. Her hands, balled into fists and striking his back, added to her stifled, agonized whimpers make it evident she’s in pain, but she keeps asking for more. Her repeated requests insinuating he may hurt her more if he doesn’t oblige. So he does.
In a flash, he moves his arms under her knees, shoves her legs higher and further apart. He thrusts back inside her as quickly as he can; plunges deeper, harder, faster than he can ever remember. She cries out several times until her noises turn into nothing but erotic gibberish. She can barely open her eyes and look into his. She groans what sounds like his name and reaches behind his back to bring him down on top of her again.
They’re moving wildly, grinding against one another violently. Her familiar gasps echo in his ear and he can feel her start to clench around him. Her climax peaks and it’s so unbelievably arousing. Before he can stop himself, he’s coming too. Still thrusting at breakneck speed, he ends up coming mostly outside of her. His thick cum smears all over his cock and her sex, some dripping down onto the expensive hotel sheets.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he grunts.
Liz says nothing. Just relaxes her arms and legs, mercifully allowing him to collapse down onto his back next to her. They’re both covered in sweat, desperately fighting to breathe. His heart is racing, his chest heaving so fast it feels like there isn’t enough oxygen in a mile wide radius to quench their loud panting.
When they’ve cooled down enough to converse, she remains silent. He has no idea what to say. He’s still in a state of shock. Shocked she asked him to come up to her room, shocked to hear of her intense apprehension about getting married, shocked that she kissed him. Shocked most of all by her almost masochist desires when they ended up in her bed. Besides the obvious insanity of them sleeping together the day before she’s supposed to marry another man, he’s not sure what came over her. He assumes she was subconsciously trying to punish herself. That she wanted to be physically hurt, forced to feel pain as some sort of penance for committing such a terrible transgression with him.
The sound of her cellphone beeping, denoting a voicemail or text message, perhaps both, breaks the silence in the room. She gets out of bed and retreats into the bathroom with her purse. He hears her on the phone with him, making up some story about accidently putting the ringer on silent. Then she has to call her mother, telling more lies to cover up what she’s really been doing and who she’s been with the past couple of hours.
She comes out in a fresh bathrobe, says quietly, “I need you to go now, okay?”
“I understand.” He gets up and starts to get dressed. “Are you going to be alright?”
She barely looks at him, only giving him the slightest of nods.
“Is he coming back soon?”
“No. He’s out with his brothers and buddies and stuff. I probably won’t see him until tomorrow.”
They look at each other wordlessly for far too long. Until he crosses to her, lightly brushes his lips over her cheek and whispers goodbye.
Hours later he’s nowhere near sleep, just lying in bed thinking about her, the two of them, their past and uncomfortable present. He already knew letting her go was the worst decision of his life. Seeing her again, doing such bad things with her just makes it all the more painfully obvious.
His self-loathing continues until he hears a quiet knock on his door. He quickly opens the slew of hotel room locks, revealing the woman he still adores on the other side. The woman he should be marrying in a few short hours.
Her face is streaked with recent tears. “I...I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He takes her hand and brings her inside, offers her a drink, thinking the time for them to talk is long overdue. Nothing of substance is exchanged between them until she slides over to his side of the couch.
A few more beats of silence, then, “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t deserve that, Liz. You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Then and now.”
She’s again the one to initiate the first kiss. This time it’s unhurried, soft and gentle.
He knows they shouldn’t, more than enough damage has already been done, but he follows as she leads him to the bed.
They take their time, making slow, passionate love like they did so many times in the past. It’s intimate, loving, euphoric.
He holds her close afterwards, on the verge of saying “I love you” so many times but the words don’t come out. What good would they do now? She’s moved on, found someone else who wants the same things in life. Someone able to give, and give up for her, what he was not.
When she speaks, her tone is flat and tired. “This is so bad. I’m such a horrible person.”
He kisses her shoulder. “You’re scared. And vulnerable. And I shouldn’t have come here.”
She sits up and moves to the edge of the bed, wrapping herself in the blanket. She looks back over her shoulder, says, “I have to go.”
“I know.”
She redresses quickly in more painful silence. Just before opening the door she turns around. “Am I making a huge mistake?”
He steps closer, looks into her gorgeous brown eyes. “I’m the one who made a mistake.”
He drives back to New York a few hours later before the ceremony even begins. He passes the ‘Now Leaving White Haven’ sign, sadly knowing it’s the last time he’ll likely see either the sleepy town or Liz Lemon again.
END