Leader of the Pack (Jack/Liz), Dominant
Title: Leader of the Pack
Author: stamatina_rae
Challenge: lover100
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Genre: het
Table: C
Prompt: #25, Dominant
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~ 580
Summary: Taking charge in the bedroom was not her forte.
A/N: A special shout out to mindymakru for inspiring me to try my hand at a 5 day fic challenge. I've been away from LJ for far too long, but am finally ready to get back into the swing of things. What better way to push myself than to post 5 fics in 5 days, right? My sincere apologies to any Jack/Liz authors whose fics I have missed during my absence. I will try my best to catch up on comments very soon.
So here's Day 1. Thanks for reading everybody. Hope you enjoy.
Feedback/comments always appreciated.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Don't sue.
Taking charge in the bedroom was not her forte. She could order around, or yell at, her underling employees all day and never get tired of doing so. But during sex? She’d much rather relinquish control. And it's not what you think! It's not because she’s prudish and repressed. Or vastly inexperienced. Because thanks to Mr. John Francis Donaghy, she’s been schooled. Schooled in the arts of passion and lust.
And she was a damn good pupil.
By now she most certainly knew what she liked. What turned her on. Turned her off. What, most importantly, got her off.
Jack is a confident decision maker. He leads, never follows. So it's entirely unsurprising that he prefers a dominant role in the bedroom.
She doesn't mind.
When Jack tells her what to do, micromanages her in any other aspect of their relationship it can be exceedingly irritating. When they have sex, it's the exact opposite.
Jack telling her how he wants her, when he wants her, where he wants her is incredibly...hot. No man's ever been so verbal, so steadfast, so specific in his desires. It's overwhelmingly flattering, in a way she never thought possible.
"Stand up," he says, in his deepest of rasps, right next to her ear. "And turn around."
"Okay," she whispers, still very out of breath from her recent climax.
He's already demanded she come up to his office. Not asking permission before he pushed up her dress and clawed at her panties. But he did specifically order her to leave her shoes on. Presumably for this exact scenario.
Propped up on her heels, legs spread to either side, with Jack's bare feet planted firmly on the ground, and his knees slightly bent, their bodies are precisely aligned.
In a matter of moments, he's thrusting up inside her, pinning her tingling body against the back of the door. The door to his private bathroom. Where the sights and sounds of their passion will hopefully remain hidden from Jonathan's prying eyes and ears.
His lips never leave her flesh. Firmly tracing over her skin, his teeth grazing her shoulders and neck. No longer perched on the edge of the sink, wrapped up in his beefy arms, in a virtual bear hug while he fucked her, she's now forced to stand on her own two feet. Her legs start to shake in no time at all. But he's pressing her so hard up against the door, there's no chance she'll collapse.
And now he's taken a hold of one of her hands and guided it down the door, down her stomach and between her legs.
"Jack! Oh, God," she gasps.
Manipulating her fingers with his own, her clit is massaged faster and faster in time with his thrusts. Until she's coming again, and then he's coming, and they're both choking for air. Hearts racing, muscles clenching, their conjoined hips rock to an eventual standstill.
He slips out of her, but keeps her steadfast in his grasp. His touch, his mouth becoming contrastingly gentle compared to his previous constitution. She turns around, slides her arms around his neck, guiding his mouth down to hers. All by her own accord. The proper balance of control now re-intact.
She'd gladly argue all night over where they should eat dinner, or why it's impossible to squeeze any more product integration sketches into the show.
Decisions of the carnal variety, however, are left entirely up to Jack.
She's fine with that.
END
Author: stamatina_rae
Challenge: lover100
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Genre: het
Table: C
Prompt: #25, Dominant
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~ 580
Summary: Taking charge in the bedroom was not her forte.
A/N: A special shout out to mindymakru for inspiring me to try my hand at a 5 day fic challenge. I've been away from LJ for far too long, but am finally ready to get back into the swing of things. What better way to push myself than to post 5 fics in 5 days, right? My sincere apologies to any Jack/Liz authors whose fics I have missed during my absence. I will try my best to catch up on comments very soon.
So here's Day 1. Thanks for reading everybody. Hope you enjoy.
Feedback/comments always appreciated.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Don't sue.
Taking charge in the bedroom was not her forte. She could order around, or yell at, her underling employees all day and never get tired of doing so. But during sex? She’d much rather relinquish control. And it's not what you think! It's not because she’s prudish and repressed. Or vastly inexperienced. Because thanks to Mr. John Francis Donaghy, she’s been schooled. Schooled in the arts of passion and lust.
And she was a damn good pupil.
By now she most certainly knew what she liked. What turned her on. Turned her off. What, most importantly, got her off.
Jack is a confident decision maker. He leads, never follows. So it's entirely unsurprising that he prefers a dominant role in the bedroom.
She doesn't mind.
When Jack tells her what to do, micromanages her in any other aspect of their relationship it can be exceedingly irritating. When they have sex, it's the exact opposite.
Jack telling her how he wants her, when he wants her, where he wants her is incredibly...hot. No man's ever been so verbal, so steadfast, so specific in his desires. It's overwhelmingly flattering, in a way she never thought possible.
"Stand up," he says, in his deepest of rasps, right next to her ear. "And turn around."
"Okay," she whispers, still very out of breath from her recent climax.
He's already demanded she come up to his office. Not asking permission before he pushed up her dress and clawed at her panties. But he did specifically order her to leave her shoes on. Presumably for this exact scenario.
Propped up on her heels, legs spread to either side, with Jack's bare feet planted firmly on the ground, and his knees slightly bent, their bodies are precisely aligned.
In a matter of moments, he's thrusting up inside her, pinning her tingling body against the back of the door. The door to his private bathroom. Where the sights and sounds of their passion will hopefully remain hidden from Jonathan's prying eyes and ears.
His lips never leave her flesh. Firmly tracing over her skin, his teeth grazing her shoulders and neck. No longer perched on the edge of the sink, wrapped up in his beefy arms, in a virtual bear hug while he fucked her, she's now forced to stand on her own two feet. Her legs start to shake in no time at all. But he's pressing her so hard up against the door, there's no chance she'll collapse.
And now he's taken a hold of one of her hands and guided it down the door, down her stomach and between her legs.
"Jack! Oh, God," she gasps.
Manipulating her fingers with his own, her clit is massaged faster and faster in time with his thrusts. Until she's coming again, and then he's coming, and they're both choking for air. Hearts racing, muscles clenching, their conjoined hips rock to an eventual standstill.
He slips out of her, but keeps her steadfast in his grasp. His touch, his mouth becoming contrastingly gentle compared to his previous constitution. She turns around, slides her arms around his neck, guiding his mouth down to hers. All by her own accord. The proper balance of control now re-intact.
She'd gladly argue all night over where they should eat dinner, or why it's impossible to squeeze any more product integration sketches into the show.
Decisions of the carnal variety, however, are left entirely up to Jack.
She's fine with that.
END