"Observation." One Shot. Rated R.
Title: Observation
Character(s)/Pairing: Rayne... technically
Written for: Well, was supposed to be for bugchicklv's Porn-a-Thon, but obviously I was way too late. Used the prompt: Voyeur
Rating: R
Word Count: 3671
Disclaimer: Not mine.
-Author's Notes: Well! My first time at Rayne-smut - how'd I do? I'd started it awhile ago but then never finished, but then I was working on some maths yesterday and I REALLY needed a break. Ahh, thought I, what goes better with Calculus than Rayne? XP So all Rayne-shippers reap the benefits of my deep dislike of homework. Heh. Thanks for reading!
Observation
Coin wasn't usually an issue, but of course just when he'd spent almost all he had on a beautiful, old-fashioned little gun with a wooden handle Mal would decide they got a break; it was gorgeous - small, and shot straight as an arrow. He'd called it Yasmine - saw that name on the cortex once and had taken a liking to it.
But that shiny little gun meant no whores. And Jayne Cobb was a man who appreciated whores.
So there he was, sitting in a dingy little dust-hole of a bar, hoping to meet a woman interested in a quick tumble. Most of the folks there were space-faring, which was what he wanted, but the majority of them were also men - so his options were limited. Out of all the ones good looking enough to bother with, two women who’d come in had only been there to drink - and hadn’t minded letting him know exactly that. The next thought she was too good for him, snubbing him with a cold, condescending look and her nose stuck up in the air. After that he’d just decided to nurse his glass of whiskey and wait for something a bit more approachable to wander in.
He luckily didn’t have to wait long. A tall, slender woman walked in, a veritable storm cloud over her head. She scanned the whole bar quickly, eyes lingering over any particularly appealing men. When she landed on Jayne, he gave her a lecherous wink and a tight, ready smile. She raised one brow for a moment, surveying him with undisguised interest. And then she walked over.
It took two drinks for her to strike up a conversation, explain she was looking for a one night stand, no strings attached, and then invite him to the small place she’d booked a room in across the street. He didn’t need any more convincing than that.
They found themselves against the back wall of the bar about three minutes later.
She hadn’t told him her name; hadn’t even wanted to know his. She just wanted a quick, hard romp with some stranger - and oh was he happy to give it to her. The woman had come out of some relationship or other and was pissed as hell; whoever had hurt her was in a world of trouble because she seemed ready to kill. The woman tried to kiss him, but he wouldn’t let her; which only pissed her off more, and she started tearing at his clothes with sharp nails. He got her arms away from him and tried to nudge her off but she pulled away and slapped him hard before slamming her mouth onto his.
It was probably the worst kiss he’d ever had - and Mary-Lou Turner back home had been one of the reasons he’d gone off kissing in the first place. Either she thought he was some kind of gorram food or she thought he’d like getting slurped up into her mouth. Wasn’t so bad, though - and as long as no Goodnight Kiss was involved he could put up with a little bit of poor kissing. She was breathing hard when she pulled away, letting out all her fury as she tore his shirt off his body.
“Liked that shirt,” he mumbled as he cupped her breasts through the coarse fabric of her own top. The shirt fell to the dirty ground and she let out a breathy moan and grabbed as much of a handful of hair as she could and pulled hard on the back of his head. He grunted, but ignored the pain, focused instead on getting her closer to fully nude. He ripped the buttons off her shirt as she bit at his neck and earlobe, pulling the sleeves down to her elbows and then grabbing at her breasts -which were blessedly uncovered -, pressing her nipples hard with his thumbs.
The woman moaned and arched into his hands, pressing the lower half of her body hard into his. Now that was more like it. Jayne growled appreciatively and bent down to suck at the hollow above her collarbone. She slid her shirt off and raised one leg to his waist, whimpering a little at the friction. He responded immediately, sliding a hand under her and lifting her up. She wrapped both legs around him, gripping his body tightly. Her fingers glided down his chest, then went feverishly to work on his belt. He seemed to be little more than an observer; she was pulling at him, scratching at him, almost enjoying his caresses secondhand; the woman was certainly keen as hell on forgetting whatever she’d come into that bar to forget, and Jayne was only along for the ride.
She’d managed to get his pants pushed to halfway down his thighs, though it was so constricting he could hardly move. He’d undone the tight braid her hair had been in and his hands plunged into the wavy brown curtain, tilting her head up so he could better get to her neck. She panted, making whiny little moaning noises. Her hands reached between their bodies and felt greedily past the hem of his under shorts, wrapping firmly around his cock.
He groaned. Oh, John Thomas was a big, strong boy, but she had no call to be that rough with him. The woman, however, mistook his groan for one of pleasure and began to whisper heatedly in his ear. “That’s right… Oh, I could never satisfy him, but you like it; yes, you want me.”
No, he really didn’t, and he was almost starting to regret giving her that wink when she’d looked him over. Sure, she was attractive and her body felt amazing under his hands, but the woman was a gorram nutbag. He liked angry sexing sometimes, maybe some scratching and biting, but only when both people were angry. The weird, desperate vibe she was giving off made him a little less than eager to continue. At least, after the sex, he wouldn’t ever have to see her again.
Suddenly, just as the woman had shimmied out of her pants and underwear and was climbing back up him, a soft, tentative voice said, “Jayne?”
He turned towards the voice, shocked out of his skin to see the little moonbrain there at the building’s corner, watching him as he went at it with some stranger against the back wall of a bar. He was the only one to notice, though, as the woman was occupied with divesting him of his pants completely. River gaped at him a moment, her eyes wide; and he just stared right back. He was about to tell her to get lost when his partner noticed his inattention. She grabbed both sides of his face and pulled it back to hers. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Her breathing was heavy and her eyes were on fire with something burning cold. “Don’t look away from me; please just touch me - just rutting touch me.” She looked like she was about to cry or something, and Jayne was feeling a little out of his depth.
But that wouldn’t stop him from trying to enjoy her. He helped her push his pants down to his ankles and nipped at her jaw, a hand tracing down her abdomen. His fingers danced along her silky thigh, and he pressed her harder against the wall to keep her supported. When those large, blunt fingers dipped inside her, she groaned loudly, pointy fingernails biting into his shoulder. He grinned arrogantly at her response, though her gorram nails hurt like hell. He stroked roughly with his thumb, relishing the shuddering whine she gave when he found that sweet little spot. She dug in nearly hard enough to draw blood, and he rolled a shoulder to try to loosen her grip. It didn’t work, but he was at least grateful that when his fingers were talking, she couldn’t.
And he could play her like a gorram instrument - she was making a whole symphony of sounds, loud and soft, high and low, like she couldn’t even make up her mind how to feel. But she was closing in on that wave, he could tell. He kept pumping his fingers in and out of her body while heavy waves of heat kept washing higher and higher over him. Her head was rolling back and forth and her hands could hardly hold onto him. And when she came, she sounded like some sort of rutting banshee woman, wailing long and loud. He covered her wide open mouth with his hand, but that didn’t do much.
He looked around quickly to see if anyone had heard and come out, but nobody was there. Nobody, that is, except for River Tam, still standing there staring right at him, eyes like limpid laser-sights.
What the hell?!
Jayne was shocked to see her still there, especially because she didn’t look disgusted or shocked or anything. She looked… She looked pretty damn aroused to his educated eyes, and that was something he didn’t know how to deal with. She’d never shown any sign of being sly, so that meant she was looking at… Was she looking at him?
Even if it was the creepifying little moonbrain, that was a mighty erotic thought. So she liked watched others when they were sexing, huh? He felt his blood boil a little at the thought; he could understand the appeal - it was one of his own little kinks. And feeling her eyes had more of an effect than the other woman’s whole gorram body did. So she wanted a show, huh? He let out a shaky breath, steadying the woman before him. He could give that girl the best rutting show she’d ever see.
Clenching his teeth, he slammed into the dark-haired banshee wrapped around him. The feeling of soft, warm channel of woman around him was amazing, but hers wasn’t the body he felt. Hoping like hell the girl was Reading it, he filled his mind with images of her naked and screaming.
*
She was sitting with him, cleaning guns. She gave him a dark, mysterious smile before trailing her hand down a long barrel. He growled as her movements grew more suggestive, and in the next moment he had her laid out on the table amongst the other weapons, pulling down her dress and taking a nipple between his teeth.
*
In the hold, she held on to his pull-up straps with her legs wrapped around his neck. His hands pushed up her shirt, holding on to her tiny torso. She could hardly breathe, whimpering and shaking as he teased her with wet strokes of a long, skilled tongue.
*
She was dressed in an outfit like Inara’s, all purple and gold silk, her hair pinned up and her face painted so she looked like his own personal whore. She crawled up to him slowly on her knees, and he let her drag down his cargos. Her mouth - perfect, hot little mouth - closed around his John Thomas, taking him deep down her throat. He grabbed her hair, wrapping curls around his fingers.
*
The little moonbrain was still watching him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. His rhythm got off as he stared, but the woman he was pounding into only grunted and clung tighter. And then she looked up and met his eyes for a long, trembling second. One hand lay clenched at her side, fisted into the fabric of her dress. She was frozen; she looked frightened, but so aroused. Her little chest was heaving with every breath, dress stretched across small, soft breasts. His hands cupped the other woman, imagining that it was River he felt instead.
And that was enough to throw the other woman into ecstasy, thrashing about as she cried out in pleasure. River took a step forward, her own body trembling with another’s bone-deep. She closed her eyes and let her head fall backwards, her teeth biting hard on one thin, little lip.
Jayne grinned, like some big predator closing in on its prey. He closed his own eyes and thrust harder. The other woman - the woman whose body he was actually in - was murmuring sweet little nothings, encouraging him, letting him know how much she liked what he was doing. He didn’t care. River was all he could see.
*
They were in a passenger dorm, and she slid out of her dress before pulling his shirt out of his pants and running her hands tenderly up his chest. He quickly took off his shirt and threw it across the room, then pulled off his heavy boots. She stood naked and proud before him as he stripped out of his pants. Her eyes were on him, on those man-parts he’d bragged about. She stepped forward, her arms outstretched, inviting him to her. The invitation was eagerly accepted and he grabbed her, yanking her towards him, grabbing near her stomach and pulling her back up against his chest.
He grunted something into her ear - something dirty that made her gasp and squirm. Then he bent her over, her arms braced on the bed. His hands grabbed her hips, digging into skin enough to hurt her. With another grunt he thrust into her hard - and they both groaned at the sudden hot, exquisite burst of connection they felt.
*
Jayne’s grip on reality was getting hazy, his thoughts scattered, sensations imagined overpowering the sensations he actually experienced.
He drove into her so hard he pushed her further up the wall, the wood scraping against her flesh.
*
She had the smoothest expanse of back he’d ever seen; he wanted to trace the little dip where her spine was with his tongue. He bent over her, a hand sneaking up to her breasts and grabbing a handful of warm flesh, palm scraping against her nipple. She made a strangled noise in response and her tight little body clenched around him.
*
Moaning deep and low, he tucked his head into her shoulder, nose just touching her neck. He inhaled the warm, smoky scent of her, then bit down gently, taking a slow taste. She was panting and whining - neither one of them could last much longer.
*
She said his name pleadingly - like some devotee whispering an ancient, sacred prayer. It made his body quake; he knew that if he could he would worship this woman’s body for every moment of every day for the rest of his life. Everything was magnified, pleasure rising so rapidly it hardly seemed real. Her body was exactly what he’d always dreamed it would be; and she was the most responsive little lover he’d ever had, even with all his romps all across the ‘verse. They fit together so perfectly he just knew she’d been made to have him inside her.
*
But he opened his eyes - and instead of River’s face, he saw the woman’s from the bar. It shocked him, like a whole tub full of cold water dumped over his head. He didn’t want her, he wanted that gorram little piece of sexy with the tangled hair and the wise, never-ending eyes.
She cried out, her body aching for release after he’d brought her right to the edge and then set her down before the drop.
Jayne growled and tried to push the girl out of his mind. He’d made the bitch come once, he could do it again. She was clawing at him, trying to speak, her voice barely more than a whisper. He let his body take over, and then his hand felt down where their bodies connected and almost as soon as his fingers found her clit she screamed, that climax she’d been reaching for hers at last.
Jayne ground his teeth together, his body dying with the need to follow hers. But there was no way he was letting himself think of the little moonbrain and that was -
“Jayne… Jayne, yes, please.”
At the sound of River's voice, high and soft and pleading, something in him burnt out. And then exploded. He howled, the supernova of feeling inside him unwavering in its intensity. He clung to the image of her face, the sound of her sweet, sweet voice as it spoke his name. Oh, just his rutting name and she had him spilling like a turned over pitcher. It felt so gorram good…
“That was amazing,” the woman panted, her face streaked with sweat, damp tendrils of her wavy hair stuck against her temple. “You’re… you’re a god, honey.” She let out a little purr as he lowered her to the ground.
“Yeah, uh, thanks,” he said blandly, gathering up her clothes and then handing her the bundle. There was an awkward silence - at least on his end - as they dressed. His shirt was really sort of unwearable, but he put it on anyway - there was a big rip down the front, but he could ignore that until he got back to the ship. “So… Guess I’ll be seein’ ya.”
She did up the buttons on her pants and looked up at him fretfully. “Wait. I mean… Ain’t you even gonna tell me your name? What ship you on? Might want to… run into you again sometime.”
“Y’said you weren’t int’rested in nothin’ like that.” He felt a little panicky; she wanted his name? His ship? That spoke of nothing but trouble. “One night only, that’s what we ‘greed.”
“Yeah, but - “
“Well good to see you ain’t changed your mind.” And with that, he turned tail and ran, ignoring her as she called after him.
The little moonbrain wasn’t standing where she had been, and he wondered vaguely where she’d gone. He was about to re-enter the bar when a small figure stepped out of the shadows. It was the girl.
Jayne wasn’t sure whether to be arrogant or apologetic; he felt a mixture of both, in addition to a hefty amount of guilt. “Girl,” he said, his voice hard as steel.
“Man,” she replied tritely.
“I, uh… Well, I ain’t really sure what to - “
“No need, man-called-Jayne.” Her little face was flushed and she looked down to the ground. “Cap’n Daddy was looking for you; girl wanted to help so she went searching, too.” In a quiet voice, she said, “Found you.”
“Yeah, you ruttin’ did find me.” He wanted to call her on what she’d done - standing and just watching him while he was fucking another woman - but that meant she could call him on all the things that had been going on in his head. “Why don’t you go back to the ship’r where-the-hell ever ya were. I ain’t keen on keepin’ up with you.”
She didn’t look up at him, though one hand came up to put two little fingers against her lips. “The little death,” she murmured. “That… I found you,” she said again, finally looking up at him. “I found you.”
He was feeling a deep uncomfortableness at her words and he couldn’t quite meet her eyes.
“I am not sure I liked that,” she said honestly, her sight turned inward as she spoke in the tone she used when she was talking of things she’d Read. “You have no right to see the girl like that, to do things like that to the girl.” She was turning a little red as she talked. “I should be very, very incensed, man-called-Jayne. But I am not.” Her head was down again but her eyes looked up towards him, a young, nervous gesture that struck something inside him. “I have never felt like that before. And even if you caused it…” Her voice was laced with a deep, naked longing. “I want to feel it again.”
“What? Hell no, girl, that ain’t… Feel it, sure, what the hell ever, but not me. I ain’t havin’ nothin’ to do with you like that; idea’s nothin’ but bad.” She’d said even if it was him; surely she knew just as well as him what a terrible idea it was. In fact, considering a good number of their previous exchanges, once the girl snapped out of that gooey post-sex feeling she’d probably try to feed him his own testicles. “I mighta been thinkin’ it, but I ain’t gonna touch you. You an’ me sexin’? Won’t ever happen, I promise.”
“Je suis désolé.”
He didn’t know about any “sweet Desiree” - but maybe the girl meant the woman he’d just sexed was named Desiree. “No, not with her, neither. Ruttin’ woman was a gorram maniac.”
“Fangs on her fingers.”
“Yeah. Weren’t exactly my kinda thing.”
They were both silent, thinking of all the things that had passed through Jayne’s head. River sighed and shook her head, trying to shake the disconcerting new perceptions of him Jayne’s intense visions had caused. “Captain’s mission no longer top priority. I am returning to Serenity.”
“Best gorram idea for both o’ us, I’m thinkin’. I’m going t’walk back now. Follow if’n you want, moonbrain.”
“Yes, Jayne. I will follow.”
They started walking. Jayne felt more awkward than he could ever remember feeling. He still sort of disliked the girl, but at the same time he felt oddly connected - there was no way to play off what happened. Just thinking about her had given him one of the most explosive moments of his life. He hadn’t even touched her! If just imagining what she felt like had his body that wound up that quickly, he didn’t even let himself think about how gorram amazing she would feel if he ever got his hands on her.
“Hey,” he said suddenly as they walked, Serenity nearly close enough to spit on. “We ain’t ever - an’ I mean ever - gonna talk ‘bout this again. Goin’ t’be like it never even happened, you got that?”
Her head was swimming with thoughts of his hands, his mouth, his bare, hairy chest. She felt the phantom pressure of gripping fingers at her hips, as she let him bend her over and bury himself inside her. “I ‘got that’ perfectly well, man-called-Jayne.” She let out a dry, short little sort of mournful sigh. “It never even happened.”
~~~
Feedback, as always, would be greatly appreciated!
Character(s)/Pairing: Rayne... technically
Written for: Well, was supposed to be for bugchicklv's Porn-a-Thon, but obviously I was way too late. Used the prompt: Voyeur
Rating: R
Word Count: 3671
Disclaimer: Not mine.
-Author's Notes: Well! My first time at Rayne-smut - how'd I do? I'd started it awhile ago but then never finished, but then I was working on some maths yesterday and I REALLY needed a break. Ahh, thought I, what goes better with Calculus than Rayne? XP So all Rayne-shippers reap the benefits of my deep dislike of homework. Heh. Thanks for reading!
Observation
Coin wasn't usually an issue, but of course just when he'd spent almost all he had on a beautiful, old-fashioned little gun with a wooden handle Mal would decide they got a break; it was gorgeous - small, and shot straight as an arrow. He'd called it Yasmine - saw that name on the cortex once and had taken a liking to it.
But that shiny little gun meant no whores. And Jayne Cobb was a man who appreciated whores.
So there he was, sitting in a dingy little dust-hole of a bar, hoping to meet a woman interested in a quick tumble. Most of the folks there were space-faring, which was what he wanted, but the majority of them were also men - so his options were limited. Out of all the ones good looking enough to bother with, two women who’d come in had only been there to drink - and hadn’t minded letting him know exactly that. The next thought she was too good for him, snubbing him with a cold, condescending look and her nose stuck up in the air. After that he’d just decided to nurse his glass of whiskey and wait for something a bit more approachable to wander in.
He luckily didn’t have to wait long. A tall, slender woman walked in, a veritable storm cloud over her head. She scanned the whole bar quickly, eyes lingering over any particularly appealing men. When she landed on Jayne, he gave her a lecherous wink and a tight, ready smile. She raised one brow for a moment, surveying him with undisguised interest. And then she walked over.
It took two drinks for her to strike up a conversation, explain she was looking for a one night stand, no strings attached, and then invite him to the small place she’d booked a room in across the street. He didn’t need any more convincing than that.
They found themselves against the back wall of the bar about three minutes later.
She hadn’t told him her name; hadn’t even wanted to know his. She just wanted a quick, hard romp with some stranger - and oh was he happy to give it to her. The woman had come out of some relationship or other and was pissed as hell; whoever had hurt her was in a world of trouble because she seemed ready to kill. The woman tried to kiss him, but he wouldn’t let her; which only pissed her off more, and she started tearing at his clothes with sharp nails. He got her arms away from him and tried to nudge her off but she pulled away and slapped him hard before slamming her mouth onto his.
It was probably the worst kiss he’d ever had - and Mary-Lou Turner back home had been one of the reasons he’d gone off kissing in the first place. Either she thought he was some kind of gorram food or she thought he’d like getting slurped up into her mouth. Wasn’t so bad, though - and as long as no Goodnight Kiss was involved he could put up with a little bit of poor kissing. She was breathing hard when she pulled away, letting out all her fury as she tore his shirt off his body.
“Liked that shirt,” he mumbled as he cupped her breasts through the coarse fabric of her own top. The shirt fell to the dirty ground and she let out a breathy moan and grabbed as much of a handful of hair as she could and pulled hard on the back of his head. He grunted, but ignored the pain, focused instead on getting her closer to fully nude. He ripped the buttons off her shirt as she bit at his neck and earlobe, pulling the sleeves down to her elbows and then grabbing at her breasts -which were blessedly uncovered -, pressing her nipples hard with his thumbs.
The woman moaned and arched into his hands, pressing the lower half of her body hard into his. Now that was more like it. Jayne growled appreciatively and bent down to suck at the hollow above her collarbone. She slid her shirt off and raised one leg to his waist, whimpering a little at the friction. He responded immediately, sliding a hand under her and lifting her up. She wrapped both legs around him, gripping his body tightly. Her fingers glided down his chest, then went feverishly to work on his belt. He seemed to be little more than an observer; she was pulling at him, scratching at him, almost enjoying his caresses secondhand; the woman was certainly keen as hell on forgetting whatever she’d come into that bar to forget, and Jayne was only along for the ride.
She’d managed to get his pants pushed to halfway down his thighs, though it was so constricting he could hardly move. He’d undone the tight braid her hair had been in and his hands plunged into the wavy brown curtain, tilting her head up so he could better get to her neck. She panted, making whiny little moaning noises. Her hands reached between their bodies and felt greedily past the hem of his under shorts, wrapping firmly around his cock.
He groaned. Oh, John Thomas was a big, strong boy, but she had no call to be that rough with him. The woman, however, mistook his groan for one of pleasure and began to whisper heatedly in his ear. “That’s right… Oh, I could never satisfy him, but you like it; yes, you want me.”
No, he really didn’t, and he was almost starting to regret giving her that wink when she’d looked him over. Sure, she was attractive and her body felt amazing under his hands, but the woman was a gorram nutbag. He liked angry sexing sometimes, maybe some scratching and biting, but only when both people were angry. The weird, desperate vibe she was giving off made him a little less than eager to continue. At least, after the sex, he wouldn’t ever have to see her again.
Suddenly, just as the woman had shimmied out of her pants and underwear and was climbing back up him, a soft, tentative voice said, “Jayne?”
He turned towards the voice, shocked out of his skin to see the little moonbrain there at the building’s corner, watching him as he went at it with some stranger against the back wall of a bar. He was the only one to notice, though, as the woman was occupied with divesting him of his pants completely. River gaped at him a moment, her eyes wide; and he just stared right back. He was about to tell her to get lost when his partner noticed his inattention. She grabbed both sides of his face and pulled it back to hers. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Her breathing was heavy and her eyes were on fire with something burning cold. “Don’t look away from me; please just touch me - just rutting touch me.” She looked like she was about to cry or something, and Jayne was feeling a little out of his depth.
But that wouldn’t stop him from trying to enjoy her. He helped her push his pants down to his ankles and nipped at her jaw, a hand tracing down her abdomen. His fingers danced along her silky thigh, and he pressed her harder against the wall to keep her supported. When those large, blunt fingers dipped inside her, she groaned loudly, pointy fingernails biting into his shoulder. He grinned arrogantly at her response, though her gorram nails hurt like hell. He stroked roughly with his thumb, relishing the shuddering whine she gave when he found that sweet little spot. She dug in nearly hard enough to draw blood, and he rolled a shoulder to try to loosen her grip. It didn’t work, but he was at least grateful that when his fingers were talking, she couldn’t.
And he could play her like a gorram instrument - she was making a whole symphony of sounds, loud and soft, high and low, like she couldn’t even make up her mind how to feel. But she was closing in on that wave, he could tell. He kept pumping his fingers in and out of her body while heavy waves of heat kept washing higher and higher over him. Her head was rolling back and forth and her hands could hardly hold onto him. And when she came, she sounded like some sort of rutting banshee woman, wailing long and loud. He covered her wide open mouth with his hand, but that didn’t do much.
He looked around quickly to see if anyone had heard and come out, but nobody was there. Nobody, that is, except for River Tam, still standing there staring right at him, eyes like limpid laser-sights.
What the hell?!
Jayne was shocked to see her still there, especially because she didn’t look disgusted or shocked or anything. She looked… She looked pretty damn aroused to his educated eyes, and that was something he didn’t know how to deal with. She’d never shown any sign of being sly, so that meant she was looking at… Was she looking at him?
Even if it was the creepifying little moonbrain, that was a mighty erotic thought. So she liked watched others when they were sexing, huh? He felt his blood boil a little at the thought; he could understand the appeal - it was one of his own little kinks. And feeling her eyes had more of an effect than the other woman’s whole gorram body did. So she wanted a show, huh? He let out a shaky breath, steadying the woman before him. He could give that girl the best rutting show she’d ever see.
Clenching his teeth, he slammed into the dark-haired banshee wrapped around him. The feeling of soft, warm channel of woman around him was amazing, but hers wasn’t the body he felt. Hoping like hell the girl was Reading it, he filled his mind with images of her naked and screaming.
*
She was sitting with him, cleaning guns. She gave him a dark, mysterious smile before trailing her hand down a long barrel. He growled as her movements grew more suggestive, and in the next moment he had her laid out on the table amongst the other weapons, pulling down her dress and taking a nipple between his teeth.
*
In the hold, she held on to his pull-up straps with her legs wrapped around his neck. His hands pushed up her shirt, holding on to her tiny torso. She could hardly breathe, whimpering and shaking as he teased her with wet strokes of a long, skilled tongue.
*
She was dressed in an outfit like Inara’s, all purple and gold silk, her hair pinned up and her face painted so she looked like his own personal whore. She crawled up to him slowly on her knees, and he let her drag down his cargos. Her mouth - perfect, hot little mouth - closed around his John Thomas, taking him deep down her throat. He grabbed her hair, wrapping curls around his fingers.
*
The little moonbrain was still watching him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. His rhythm got off as he stared, but the woman he was pounding into only grunted and clung tighter. And then she looked up and met his eyes for a long, trembling second. One hand lay clenched at her side, fisted into the fabric of her dress. She was frozen; she looked frightened, but so aroused. Her little chest was heaving with every breath, dress stretched across small, soft breasts. His hands cupped the other woman, imagining that it was River he felt instead.
And that was enough to throw the other woman into ecstasy, thrashing about as she cried out in pleasure. River took a step forward, her own body trembling with another’s bone-deep. She closed her eyes and let her head fall backwards, her teeth biting hard on one thin, little lip.
Jayne grinned, like some big predator closing in on its prey. He closed his own eyes and thrust harder. The other woman - the woman whose body he was actually in - was murmuring sweet little nothings, encouraging him, letting him know how much she liked what he was doing. He didn’t care. River was all he could see.
*
They were in a passenger dorm, and she slid out of her dress before pulling his shirt out of his pants and running her hands tenderly up his chest. He quickly took off his shirt and threw it across the room, then pulled off his heavy boots. She stood naked and proud before him as he stripped out of his pants. Her eyes were on him, on those man-parts he’d bragged about. She stepped forward, her arms outstretched, inviting him to her. The invitation was eagerly accepted and he grabbed her, yanking her towards him, grabbing near her stomach and pulling her back up against his chest.
He grunted something into her ear - something dirty that made her gasp and squirm. Then he bent her over, her arms braced on the bed. His hands grabbed her hips, digging into skin enough to hurt her. With another grunt he thrust into her hard - and they both groaned at the sudden hot, exquisite burst of connection they felt.
*
Jayne’s grip on reality was getting hazy, his thoughts scattered, sensations imagined overpowering the sensations he actually experienced.
He drove into her so hard he pushed her further up the wall, the wood scraping against her flesh.
*
She had the smoothest expanse of back he’d ever seen; he wanted to trace the little dip where her spine was with his tongue. He bent over her, a hand sneaking up to her breasts and grabbing a handful of warm flesh, palm scraping against her nipple. She made a strangled noise in response and her tight little body clenched around him.
*
Moaning deep and low, he tucked his head into her shoulder, nose just touching her neck. He inhaled the warm, smoky scent of her, then bit down gently, taking a slow taste. She was panting and whining - neither one of them could last much longer.
*
She said his name pleadingly - like some devotee whispering an ancient, sacred prayer. It made his body quake; he knew that if he could he would worship this woman’s body for every moment of every day for the rest of his life. Everything was magnified, pleasure rising so rapidly it hardly seemed real. Her body was exactly what he’d always dreamed it would be; and she was the most responsive little lover he’d ever had, even with all his romps all across the ‘verse. They fit together so perfectly he just knew she’d been made to have him inside her.
*
But he opened his eyes - and instead of River’s face, he saw the woman’s from the bar. It shocked him, like a whole tub full of cold water dumped over his head. He didn’t want her, he wanted that gorram little piece of sexy with the tangled hair and the wise, never-ending eyes.
She cried out, her body aching for release after he’d brought her right to the edge and then set her down before the drop.
Jayne growled and tried to push the girl out of his mind. He’d made the bitch come once, he could do it again. She was clawing at him, trying to speak, her voice barely more than a whisper. He let his body take over, and then his hand felt down where their bodies connected and almost as soon as his fingers found her clit she screamed, that climax she’d been reaching for hers at last.
Jayne ground his teeth together, his body dying with the need to follow hers. But there was no way he was letting himself think of the little moonbrain and that was -
“Jayne… Jayne, yes, please.”
At the sound of River's voice, high and soft and pleading, something in him burnt out. And then exploded. He howled, the supernova of feeling inside him unwavering in its intensity. He clung to the image of her face, the sound of her sweet, sweet voice as it spoke his name. Oh, just his rutting name and she had him spilling like a turned over pitcher. It felt so gorram good…
“That was amazing,” the woman panted, her face streaked with sweat, damp tendrils of her wavy hair stuck against her temple. “You’re… you’re a god, honey.” She let out a little purr as he lowered her to the ground.
“Yeah, uh, thanks,” he said blandly, gathering up her clothes and then handing her the bundle. There was an awkward silence - at least on his end - as they dressed. His shirt was really sort of unwearable, but he put it on anyway - there was a big rip down the front, but he could ignore that until he got back to the ship. “So… Guess I’ll be seein’ ya.”
She did up the buttons on her pants and looked up at him fretfully. “Wait. I mean… Ain’t you even gonna tell me your name? What ship you on? Might want to… run into you again sometime.”
“Y’said you weren’t int’rested in nothin’ like that.” He felt a little panicky; she wanted his name? His ship? That spoke of nothing but trouble. “One night only, that’s what we ‘greed.”
“Yeah, but - “
“Well good to see you ain’t changed your mind.” And with that, he turned tail and ran, ignoring her as she called after him.
The little moonbrain wasn’t standing where she had been, and he wondered vaguely where she’d gone. He was about to re-enter the bar when a small figure stepped out of the shadows. It was the girl.
Jayne wasn’t sure whether to be arrogant or apologetic; he felt a mixture of both, in addition to a hefty amount of guilt. “Girl,” he said, his voice hard as steel.
“Man,” she replied tritely.
“I, uh… Well, I ain’t really sure what to - “
“No need, man-called-Jayne.” Her little face was flushed and she looked down to the ground. “Cap’n Daddy was looking for you; girl wanted to help so she went searching, too.” In a quiet voice, she said, “Found you.”
“Yeah, you ruttin’ did find me.” He wanted to call her on what she’d done - standing and just watching him while he was fucking another woman - but that meant she could call him on all the things that had been going on in his head. “Why don’t you go back to the ship’r where-the-hell ever ya were. I ain’t keen on keepin’ up with you.”
She didn’t look up at him, though one hand came up to put two little fingers against her lips. “The little death,” she murmured. “That… I found you,” she said again, finally looking up at him. “I found you.”
He was feeling a deep uncomfortableness at her words and he couldn’t quite meet her eyes.
“I am not sure I liked that,” she said honestly, her sight turned inward as she spoke in the tone she used when she was talking of things she’d Read. “You have no right to see the girl like that, to do things like that to the girl.” She was turning a little red as she talked. “I should be very, very incensed, man-called-Jayne. But I am not.” Her head was down again but her eyes looked up towards him, a young, nervous gesture that struck something inside him. “I have never felt like that before. And even if you caused it…” Her voice was laced with a deep, naked longing. “I want to feel it again.”
“What? Hell no, girl, that ain’t… Feel it, sure, what the hell ever, but not me. I ain’t havin’ nothin’ to do with you like that; idea’s nothin’ but bad.” She’d said even if it was him; surely she knew just as well as him what a terrible idea it was. In fact, considering a good number of their previous exchanges, once the girl snapped out of that gooey post-sex feeling she’d probably try to feed him his own testicles. “I mighta been thinkin’ it, but I ain’t gonna touch you. You an’ me sexin’? Won’t ever happen, I promise.”
“Je suis désolé.”
He didn’t know about any “sweet Desiree” - but maybe the girl meant the woman he’d just sexed was named Desiree. “No, not with her, neither. Ruttin’ woman was a gorram maniac.”
“Fangs on her fingers.”
“Yeah. Weren’t exactly my kinda thing.”
They were both silent, thinking of all the things that had passed through Jayne’s head. River sighed and shook her head, trying to shake the disconcerting new perceptions of him Jayne’s intense visions had caused. “Captain’s mission no longer top priority. I am returning to Serenity.”
“Best gorram idea for both o’ us, I’m thinkin’. I’m going t’walk back now. Follow if’n you want, moonbrain.”
“Yes, Jayne. I will follow.”
They started walking. Jayne felt more awkward than he could ever remember feeling. He still sort of disliked the girl, but at the same time he felt oddly connected - there was no way to play off what happened. Just thinking about her had given him one of the most explosive moments of his life. He hadn’t even touched her! If just imagining what she felt like had his body that wound up that quickly, he didn’t even let himself think about how gorram amazing she would feel if he ever got his hands on her.
“Hey,” he said suddenly as they walked, Serenity nearly close enough to spit on. “We ain’t ever - an’ I mean ever - gonna talk ‘bout this again. Goin’ t’be like it never even happened, you got that?”
Her head was swimming with thoughts of his hands, his mouth, his bare, hairy chest. She felt the phantom pressure of gripping fingers at her hips, as she let him bend her over and bury himself inside her. “I ‘got that’ perfectly well, man-called-Jayne.” She let out a dry, short little sort of mournful sigh. “It never even happened.”
~~~
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