Your lips follow that carefully crafted path, forged so delicately only moments before. A soft moan escapes my lips as you take my nipples, one at a time, so gently in your mouth, teasing them with a flick of your hot tongue before moving on quickly, leaving me wanting more.

I cannot help myself as your kisses fall ever closer to my now dripping *****, my ***** jumps and twitches as you kiss along my thigh, teasing me with a gentle kiss on my wet lips. You look up at me with devilish hunger in your eyes and in the warm candlelight; I see my wetness only briefly, glistening on your lips. Your tongue licks it away slowly, daring me to ask for more.

  Suddenly I feel you, a solitary finger brushing through my hot, slick folds, so tantalisingly close to my aching ***** and yet still so very far away. You bring your finger slowly to your lips, prolonging my fulfilment until I can’t take anymore. As you taste my juices, I beg you to fill me, to ***** me hard, make me ***** as you bury your tongue in my *****.

“Eugh!” Jane mumbled from under her unruly hair as she tried to organise her lanky limbs.
Maura looked up, closing the journal and sliding it under her chair before watching her friend with a confused amusement.

“Are you ok?” she asked softly.

“Maura!” Jane sounded surprised as she slid off the couch, landing on the floor in a messy heap of limbs, hair and cushions.

Maura looked around slowly. “Yes?”

Jane sat up and stared at her slowly. “You’re…. well, I mean… it’s you.”

Maura frowned. “Who else would it be?” the enquiry coming from a genuine desire to find out whom the brunette was anticipating.

Jane rubbed her eyes before brushing her hair out of her face, her eyes never leaving the well-presented doctor. Jane’s mind ran with the images that had filled her dreams. That journal had given her more in three short paragraphs than she had felt in many, many months.

Resting her back on the couch cushions, Jane studied Maura, looking for any outward sign of the desires she had written about in the journal, any flicker of want or desire. She saw nothing there but confusion and the warm love and concern that radiated from Maura on a regular basis.
 ‘And you say you can’t lie’ she thought, a smile creeping onto her face and calming her friends ever increasing worry.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Maura asked, watching as Jane pulled herself onto the sofa and continued to stare her at with goofy grin lighting up her face.

Jane nodded. “Yeah. I think I’m just fine.” And in that moment lost in loving hazel eyes, Jane Rizzoli meant every letter of every word. Nothing could touch her, not Hoyt or any of the other crazed killers in Boston, not her mother, brothers or family dramas. In that moment she was totally at peace with herself and the world.

But the world had other plans for both Jane Rizzoli and Maura Isles.