A/N Smut virgin popping a fic cherry here. First time for everything, I suppose. This is one's for Indelible Evidence, I blame all of this on her call out for some NSFW Reller fic. So, here's my attempt - go easy on me, I'm a noob at this :D
Remi woke to a tension headache, her mind and body feeling dull. At first she thought she'd just fallen asleep in one of the SUVs as Weller drove, something she did alarmingly often. But then she realized that she was handcuffed, that the blur in her mind was from being drugged.
Remi fought through the brain fog, searched for her last memory. It was something physical, that much was clear. Along with her aching head, her body felt tight and sore.
Oh right, she thought. She'd been having it out in the warehouse with her dear husband. Desperately physically assaulting each other.
It all clicked into place at once as her mind started to clear. Weller had drugged her, but probably shorted the dose, fearful of her ZIP-affected condition. Yet another sign of his inherent weakness.
So she had woken up en route to wherever he was taking her, lying across the backseat but still awkwardly buckled in. There was even a blanket under her head acting as a pillow, which made her scowl in annoyance, hate him even more.
He couldn't even get that right. They were enemies now, her cover blown to bits by stupid Eve and her underground bank. With all the pretense stripped out of the situation, there was nothing left between them except Weller's desperate hope for someone that was never coming back. At least not if Remi had anything to say about it.
But as she thought about Weller's pathetic need for Jane, an idea started to form, the beginnings of a plan. As she dug further into the thought, Remi realized that it was really her only option. Otherwise they were going to get to wherever Weller was taking her and she would be at his mercy, handcuffed and unarmed.
So she took a deep breath, then another. It was going to be hard to convince him now that his guard was all the way up. She was going to have to play it really pathetic, hammer on that extreme Jane Doe innocence she had seen in old FBI video footage.
Remi tried to think about how scared Jane would be to wake up in this situation, with no memory of how she got there. How she herself had felt waking up in the hospital with no memory of the past three years.
When she had finally channeled all the fear and weakness she could muster, Remi started to speak. And even she was amazed at the voice that emerged, so completely unlike her own that she questioned if it had really come out of her.
"Kurt?" she whimpered, his name emerging with a teary waver. "What's happening?"
Weller drove through the city aggressively, desperate to get to the NYO where Patterson was waiting. The procedure she had planned could be his only chance to get Jane back and he was extremely anxious to get it started. Especially since he hadn't drugged Remi with a full dose of the sedative, afraid of doing more harm to her already ZIP-damaged brain. It had been hard enough hitting her, duking it out in with his sick wife.
He knew he shouldn't think of her like that anymore, that Remi wasn't his wife at all. She had plotted against him at every turn, had apparently hated having to put up with him. He hated that he hadn't figured it out, that they had shared a home, a bed, for months. Because looking back at it now, Weller could easily see the differences, everything he'd explained away to her diagnoses.
Remi was sharp-edged, her push back always an attack. An aggressive forward movement instead of Jane's tendency to just hunker down, stand her ground. And there was a defensiveness to Remi that went far beyond anything he'd ever seen in Jane. It took a lot but Jane could be open with her need, allow herself to show her hurt. Remi, on the other hand, had a true fear of being vulnerable, couldn't stand to face her own fears and failures.
It was hard to believe he had finally gotten to meet her, the woman that had so fundamentally changed his life. The child soldier, the abused adoptee, the teen mother, the ex Navy SEAL, the domestic terrorist, the FBI mole. Part of him wanted to hate her, for everything she stood for, all those people she was willing to kill. But mostly he just empathized with her, everything she'd been through, how it had all warped her sense of right and wrong. He'd seen her do so much good in the past few months; risk her life over and over to save others, just as Jane always had. Sure, Remi would say it was only to maintain her cover, make them believe. But he knew her better than she thought, even if it was only in hindsight.
For example, she said she hated him but it was hard to find the evidence. She had taken care of him so tenderly when he was recovering from the surgeries, genuinely seemed concerned about him. Which could definitely just have been good acting, she could have despised it all. And yet there were so many times she could have killed him, starting way back with the poison syringe behind her back. But there he was, alive and ready to do whatever it took to get Jane back.
As he drove Weller kept glancing back at Remi, wondering about the woman who had plotted against him, deceived him for so long. It ate at him that he hadn't figured it out sooner, that his love for Jane had blinded him to all the ways in which Remi had been playing him.
Thinking about Jane made his heart ache, especially now knowing that she had been gone for months without him even realizing it. How could he have not known he was sleeping with a stranger?
Weller was lost in thought when she spoke, wondering if he was ever going to talk to his wife ever again. And then her voice came from the backseat, scared and confused.
"Kurt?" she cried quietly. "What's happening?"
It sounded so much like Jane that he forgot how to breathe, register rational thought for a moment. He barely managed to hold his emotions down, remind himself that he'd already fallen for it once.
"Don't even bother, Remi," Weller replied. "You're not going to fool me twice."
"What are you talking about Kurt?" she asked, her tone so perfectly panicked that it made his back crawl. "Why am I cuffed?"
His brain was telling him that it was obviously still Remi, that she was playing him with the same game again. But his heart so desperately wanted his wife back that it broke hearing her plaintive voice, how it sounded exactly like a very scared Jane.
Was it possible that drugging her brought her back to being Jane? Unlikely, but it was such an unique situation that Weller couldn't be certain about anything. And obviously if Jane had spontaneously regained control of her brain, they wouldn't have to put her through the dangerous procedure Patterson had planned.
So he had to be sure. Which sounded easy - he should know if it was his wife or not. But then again Remi had gotten away with it for months and, even right then, had him questioning himself.
Weller thought about his options, the different ways in which he could play it. In order to be sure, he needed her to be loose, off her guard. So there was really only one way he could go, even though it broke his heart into even smaller pieces.
"Jane?" he asked, his voice full of hope and wonder. "Is that really you?"
"Jane?" Weller said, his tone absurdly optimistic. "Is that really you?"
Either he was the most gullible man on the planet or he was playing her right back. Remi wasn't sure which and it was driving her crazy.
He sounded so trusting, only the tiniest bit wary. Which was ridiculous for a trained investigator, someone as good as his job as Weller was. So most likely he was just trying to put her off her game, make her confused. But then again he was so utterly blinded by his love for Jane that he'd looked past all his suspicions for the past few months.
"What do you mean?" she replied, trying to sound as confused as possible. "Of course it's me. What's going on, Kurt?"
"Jane, what's the last thing you remember?" Weller asked, like he was really buying the act.
"Um, we got back from South Africa," she answered. "Roman died. And you got shot. I was really worried about you."
Weller took a breath, as if he was judging her story. Remi wondered if he could really be that stupid, take her at her word again. Even if she was making the right tones, hitting the perfect Jane inflections. He couldn't be that dumb, could he?
Oh Kurt, she sighed mentally, rolling her eyes at him in the dark. Her saccharine sweet idiot.
Remi thought back to him nearly dying on the table in surgery, how, back then, she had seen his possible death as a relief, an escape from pretending to be his wife. She remembered dreading the thought of cohabitating with a federal agent, wishing that he would never leave the hospital and make everything easier on her.
Right then though, the thought froze her spine, made her feel oddly queasy. Weller dead; having spent all that time without him around, driving her crazy. None of that arguing about her health and his, none of those irritatingly languid mornings in bed. Even though she had idiotically let herself be captured by him, was currently at his mercy.
"Jane, I know you're confused but everything is going to be okay," Weller replied gently. "We're almost at the NYO, I'll explain everything when we get there. Just relax for now, I'll get you out of those cuffs as soon as I can."
She hated that his words, his tone got to her even though she was the one playing him. It reminded her of all those times he had held her in the throes of a vicious headache, soothed her pain away while murmuring ridiculous bullshit in her ear. She had told herself it was part of the act, that she had to allow it. Yet really she knew that she had wanted it, craved the feeling of his hands, his breath in her ear. Because she despised herself for it, the underlying desire she felt for his touch.
It wasn't the time to question herself though, not when it was so essential to play up the Jane act. Remi tried to channel her most vulnerable voice without touching on any real emotion. But somehow playing Jane was unlike playing any other persona she'd had to assume. It had become a two-way street, occasionally made her want Jane things, think Jane thoughts.
So when the words came out, they were covered with real fear.
"Kurt, I'm scared," she said, the way she imagined Jane would. It came out a bit squeaky, with a hint of real panic.
Remi flashed back to saying the same thing to him in the hospital, before that test. She had made herself believe it was for Weller's benefit, all part of her Jane act. But in her heart Remi knew it had been a slip, another moment of weakness. She had needed his comfort, his solidness. And now, again, there was too much real fear in her voice. She hated it but she wanted him to reassure her, convince her things would be alright.
She vaguely wondered what Weller had planned for her, if she was just going to replace Shepherd in her CIA cell. Absurdly, Remi felt assured about her safety, even with her secret exposed. Weller would never hurt her, even if she didn't possess his wife's body. Still, she was not used to feeling so helpless, stuck in a situation.
"I know you are," Weller soothed. "But trust me, it's all going to be okay."
Ugh. She didn't want to, but she does. Trust the idiot. With her life apparently, as the recent evidence showed.
Weller pulled into the NYO parking garage, his heart already in pieces. He wanted it so badly, he could almost believe it. Even though his entire rational brain was telling him it wasn't true. His heart was desperate to have his wife back, to talk to Jane. To not have to put her through a procedure that could kill her.
He had been searching his mind for a way to know for sure, some foolproof test that he could administer quickly and accurately. Because as much as he hated to admit it, it was clear that he couldn't tell the difference just by looking at her, talking to her.
Despite his suspicions about the strange ways in which she'd been acting and his knowledge about the possible effects of ZIP poisoning, he'd never suspected that it wasn't Jane. He mostly blamed his long hospital stay, her diagnosis and encroaching illness. But even now, in full knowledge of what had happened, he couldn't be one hundred percent sure it was not his wife in the backseat of the SUV.
Sure, Remi had tells. The way she argued, the way she provoked him. But nothing he could reliably pull out of her on the spot to prove things one way or another.
Though there was one other way in which she was clearly different, something she hadn't ever been able to hide. Something he had noted right away, as soon as he'd gotten out of the hospital. And even after months, it hadn't changed, was still just as present.
With that thought, a plan began to form in Weller's mind. It was unconventional, certainly not one he'd submit for official approval. But he only had a short window to work with, needed a test that was both immediate and sure.
Kurt parked and quickly sent a text message to Patterson before exiting the vehicle and pulling the back door open with a heavy feeling.
She lay there, wearing Jane's scared face and it took everything he had not to fall right into the lie. He wanted to believe it, more than anything.
Weller uncuffed her, felt her sag in relief at being released. He took her hands into his, rubbed the circulation back into her wrists as he pulled her up, then out of the vehicle.
She was a little shaky, fell into him a bit as she stumbled stepping out. He wondered if it was just a play, to bring out his protective tendencies. If it was, it worked, despite his own rational mind.
Kurt wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the forehead, just the way he would.
"It's okay, I can explain," he said. "Just come with me."
He watched her fight an onslaught of emotions, felt a tautness come over her body before finally letting it go. She looked confused and exhausted, still dazed from the sedative. So he cradled her to him, started walking her away from the parking garage.
They were in the elevator, heading down when she frowned at him, asked him where they were going. Still, her tone was scared, soft-edged. So Jane that it ate at his heart.
But Weller just gathered her in tight, muttered calming words as he kissed her in reassurance.
"I know you're confused about what's going on," he said. "I just need you to trust me for a few more minutes and then this will all be sorted out."
She didn't look happy about his statement, seemed to be on the verge of growling at him. But instead of arguing she just frowned in concern, gave him a look somewhere between irritated and bewildered as they exited the elevator in the depths of the federal building.
The real Jane would likely have guessed by then where they were going, but to his knowledge Remi had never been to the Zero division cell that Roman had been held in.
By the time they were standing inside the stark concrete cell, she was tense again, giving him an anxious distressed look. Though of course Jane had a lot of history with that place too, so again he couldn't be entirely sure.
There really was only one way he could know for certain.
But just the thought of it messed with his head, made his guts cold as ice and his groin alarmingly hot.
Weller didn't have long though, and everything was ready. He had gotten her there and if it was Remi, he probably didn't have long before she tried to disable him and run for it. And Patterson had manufactured a glitch to turn the cameras off, leave no trace.
He had to know. And there was only one way he could be sure.
"What are we doing here, Kurt?" she asked, somewhere between terrified and angry.
He answered by shutting off his brain and pressing her into the concrete wall, quelling her question with an aggressive kiss.
He had managed to keep her guessing, she had to give him that. All the way into the basement, Remi had wondered where they were going while looking for a way out of her predicament. She could take him one on one at anytime, even with him armed and her slightly sedated. But they were deep inside the building by the time she had fully considered making an escape; another mistake on a long list of them.
She should have disarmed Weller the second he uncuffed her, forced him to drive her straight out of there again. But it was so easy to fall into being Jane, pretend that he was really going to make everything okay for her, that they weren't inherently at odds. So she hadn't acted when the opportunity was in front of her, which was disturbingly unlike her.
That had then led to being curled up in him as they walked into the elevator and started to descend. By that time Remi was already started cursing herself for not dealing with it sooner, falling too far into her Jane act. When he then led her to a concrete cell, her shoulders had seized and alarm bells started going off in her head.
But, unexpectedly, Weller had then followed her into the cold hard room, slowly backed her up against a wall. Silently took her hands in his, stared hard into her eyes as if making some momentous decision.
Remi froze in his gaze, wondered if he was onto her, about to imprison her there indefinitely in his own personal FBI black site. Despite the anger that arose with the thought, she scoffed to herself at how soft any prison operated by Weller would be. Even if he was absolutely sure she wasn't Jane she knew he didn't have it in him to harm her.
Yet the mere thought of illegal imprisonment made her consider him scornfully. How far the mighty incorruptible Kurt Weller had fallen from Shepherd's absurd pedestal. Willing to sacrifice justice for a selfish personal hope.
There couldn't be any other reason that he brought her there and yet the look in Weller's eyes did not indicate anything other than indecision, complete conflict. Which meant there still could be a chance to play him, make him believe.
"What are we doing here, Kurt?" Remi asked, inwardly wincing at the real fear she heard in her voice.
Weller's response was the last thing she expected, the look in his eyes shifting dramatically as he stepped forward and shoved her into the wall, bringing his hands up her body to frame her face as he pressed his lips hard into hers.
Her first reaction was shock, quickly followed by anxiety. But overarching all of that was a fierce desire, an immediate heat that spread from her groin to her chest.
Her rational mind told her that the game was over, that she'd been made. Kurt Weller would never push himself on his scared and sedated wife, had not ever touched her in that way when he thought she was Jane. There was an anger in his hands along with the hunger of his mouth, all of which was already making her uncomfortably wet. And she knew that the moment she touched him back, all his suspicions would be confirmed.
Remi had always guessed that they didn't fuck the same. In her weaker moments she might have called it an anxiety, a thought that plagued her far more than it should have. But for Weller to have turned to this as his litmus test for Jane; that meant it was true.
The thing was, rationality was quickly having very little bearing on what her body was doing. It no longer mattered if he knew who she was is. In fact, it almost made it better. All those times she put up with his tenderness, those soft caresses that somehow irritated her into blissful release. She had wondered, what it would be like. To really fuck him. To have him know.
Because she was sure it wouldn't be gentle, not if she had her way.
So screw it. There was no point in playing. And there was likely to only ever be one chance.
Remi grasped him by the shoulders, dug her fingers deep into his flesh and then ran them up the back of his neck until she was gripping him behind his ears, hungrily exploring his mouth with hers.
For a long moment there was just his mouth, his tongue. Aggressive but playful, nipping at her lips, pushing deep then curling away.
"Mm Kurt," she groaned autonomically, not at all by choice. But he was leaning into her, the growing bulge in his jeans grinding against her and Remi suddenly lost all ability to think, began operating on pure need.
She clutched at Weller's shoulders, securely wrapping her arms under his armpits and pulling herself up against him forcibly. She could feel her underwear soak through as she pushed against his hard on, the friction of his jeans pressing firmly into her groin while his lips moved from her mouth to her neck, his tongue licking its way towards the erogenous zone that he had irritatingly taught her about.
By the time he started sucking hard on her ear lobe Remi knew that she was gone, all self-dignity evaporated by his touch. She pulled herself against him tighter, breathed him in. She wanted him, needed him. More than she ever had when she was pretending to be his wife.
Remi let her hands run down his back, her touch firm and possessive. When she reached the hem of his shirt, she started to to lift it, exposing the hair on his belly and making her desire flare even higher.
But before she got his shirt even halfway off, Kurt's mouth stopped nuzzling at her neck, made her moan at the missing sensation. He looked down at her fingers, still gripping his shirt and stepped back, forcing her to drop her hands. Remi looked up at him, a shudder running through her at the sudden lack of contact, Weller no longer pressed against her yearning body.
He has to know, she thought, feeling angry and defeated all at once. This was his own special kind of torture for her, worse than any of the shit the CIA could pull. Because right then, she needed him more than anything. Grabbing onto Kurt Weller and throwing all his clothes off was, at that moment, more real, visceral than any desire for revenge or justice. She just wanted him, this adoring, loving man that she hated with all her guts.
And still, Kurt just stood there frozen, his eyes boring into hers.
Then, just as all her heated anticipation started to turn to anxiety, Weller looked her up and down, sent another shiver through her spine.
It's over, she thought. He made me and now he's done with me.
But then something shifted in his eyes and a ravenous look appeared as Weller grasped his own shirt and stripped it off before moving onto hers.
He knew the instant she touched him; Remi was just tactilely different from Jane. Her hands, the same physical hands, somehow did not feel the same. Her touch was both harder and yet tinted with fear. Like everything else, he had attributed it to her medical condition, Roman dying, his own near death. But of course it was crystal clear to him now what the difference was.
Weller meant to stop, at least that's what he'd declared in his own head. A part of him was disgusted with himself, sleeping with a stranger for months. But the thing was, she wasn't a stranger, he knew her too. After all that time, he'd seen her in action a lot. And there were all those little behaviour things that Jane kept doing that were so not-Jane. He knew Remi, he just hadn't realized it.
She was calculating, always one step ahead of him. But now she must have guessed that the game was up, that he knew it was her. And still her fingers gripped his shoulders, hard enough to leave bruises. Then they ran up his spine until she was pulling him into her, her mouth demanding and irresistible.
He meant to stop. There was even a tiny holler from the corner of his brain telling him he would regret going any further, that it wasn't Jane. But then her mouth started exploring his further and he couldn't help but bite at her lips, tease her with his tongue.
"Mm Kurt," she groaned in a way that made him instantly hard, his jeans suddenly becoming uncomfortably tight as he pressed against her.
It was Remi, all the way. No more pretense. And she wanted him, that much was clear.
She wrapped her arms under his shoulders, pulled herself to him and rubbed herself against him aggressively while he worked his mouth up to her ear, sucking hard on it when he got there.
Remi ran her hands down his back and grasped at his shirt, started pulling it off of him. But when the cold air of the cell hit his sweaty torso, an icy feeling ran up Weller's spine, gave his brain a sudden restart.
He pulled his lips off of her neck, away from that spot that drove Jane crazy. Remi moaned softly, an irritated frown replacing the pure pleasure that had just been on her face.
Definitely not Jane, he reminded himself, with Remi's hands still on his shirt.
Kurt stepped back, needed to break the physical contact with her for a moment. He couldn't think straight while touching her. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure that not touching would even help much.
She wanted him. This woman that supposedly hated him, everything he stood for. That much was satisfaction in itself.
Everything in him told Weller to stop, walk away. All of his values, everything he stood for. Morally, right up until then, he had thought he'd been fucking his wife. Now though, he knew.
That in itself should be enough, all that mattered. The plan had been to kiss her, know for sure.
And yet. He had asked Patterson to turn off the cameras.
Remi was right there, her eyes smouldering with anger tinted lust. Her expression was also a mixture of need and frustration, so much like Jane but not the same at all. He looked her up and down ad had so many feelings about her, all firing off at once, that he couldn't think, just felt completely overloaded.
Most of the problem was his goddamned dick trying to burst through the fly of his jeans and give his sanctimonious brain a message. Every part of him wanted her; wanted to taste Remi Briggs, to give her more pleasure than she could handle. But still he was frozen with indecision, about to lose the moment entirely.
He watched as Remi's eyes darkened, as doubt started to creep in. He knew her better than she thought, could see her realize that she was made, why he had pulled back. Right then she was trying to shut off her emotions, clamp down on the hurt. Because she thought he didn't want her, had only come on to her to determine her identity. Just like he had told himself. Or more accurately, had tried to convince himself.
Right there and then though, all he wanted to do was fuck her senseless, resolve her doubt. Every cell in his body strove to strip her of everything; her clothes, her worry, all of the hatred and anger inside of her.
Weller felt his erection start to grow again at the thought of ripping the clothes off of her and then he wasn't thinking with his brain anymore, just operating on pure desire. He was almost surprised as he tore off his own shirt, the cold basement air clashing with the heat rising from him. And then hands were all over her, lifting her shirt off as he ran his fingers deeply along her back.
Remi gasped at the sudden contact, the pressure of his touch. It took her a moment to react but then she grabbed him by the neck, pulled herself against the firmness in his pants and started grind him, hard and fast.
Then, just as his jeans became painfully restrictive, she slid her hands down his chest and undid his pants, making him growl in lust-filled relief.
Weller let his jeans slide to the floor as he took her lead and ran his fingers up her rib cage, admiring her lean tattooed body as he slipped his thumbs under her bra and rubbed her nipples roughly. For a long moment he fondled her breasts as his gaze ran all over her gorgeous body again; then finally he lifted the bra over her head and tossed it aside.
His lips then quickly replaced his thumbs, his teeth tugging at her nipples until she groaned, a deep guttural noise that made his cock grow even harder, his need for her more and more urgent by the second.
Kurt found her hands with his, gripped them tight as he pinned her to the wall with his mouth, first playing with her breasts, then running kisses down her torso, along her tight abs. When he got to her hips, he licked at her navel and released her hands for just a moment to slide her pants and panties down to the floor in one motion.
Then his hands captured hers again as Remi kicked her shoes and pants off, started moaning his name as his mouth worked its way down her pubic bone, his tongue flicking out to taste her along the way.
She was good and soaked when he finally made his way down to her opening; making him grin with satisfaction as he dropped her hands and started to stroke her clit with the tip of his tongue.
There was a little shudder in her legs as he licked at her sweet spot and, impossibly, it made him even more turned on. Remi wanted this as much as he did. And despite everything, he wanted to give it to her, needed to fuck this woman that was not at all his wife.
He had Remi Briggs, Navy SEAL, international terrorist, self-proclaimed hater of all he stood for held against a wall by only his tongue, making her tremble with desire. It shouldn't feel so good but he loved having her at his mercy. Especially considering he had been at hers for so long and not even realized it.
She'd been plotting to kill him. What he had in mind for her was something else altogether.
She was about to lose her mind. Weller had her stuck to the wall with just his mouth, his irritatingly dexterous tongue sending waves of pleasure up her spine as her legs shook with electric weakness.
Remi did not remember ever wanting, needing something as much as she needed him right then. None of her other lovers had ever known her that well physically, not even Oscar. After all that childhood trauma she had never been able to fully let go, be at another's mercy. But stupid vulnerable Jane had let Kurt find all of her most sensitive zones and now Weller had her completely exposed in a way she had vowed to never be.
He knew too much about her, things she didn't even know herself. She had convinced herself that all those times he made her come as Jane hadn't counted somehow. That just because he knew which buttons to lick didn't mean he knew her at all. That her want for him was strictly a matter of muscle memory, physical longing.
But she realized right then that she had it backwards all along. The fact that he had been able to make her orgasm despite her brain's resistance was indicative of exactly how well he knew her, why she hated him so much. Because now that she was letting herself desire him, the level of pleasure he was able to give her was beyond comprehension, literally reduced her to nothing but sensual fireworks throughout her entire body and mind.
All thoughts of escape and self-preservation were pushed far to the distant background, her need for him suddenly all that mattered. She didn't care if she'd been made; in fact, now she wanted him to know that it was her and not Jane, wanted to have him for herself just once. Which was clear in the fact that she was so fucking wet for him that it seemed impossible that he wasn't in her yet, that she could wait for even another moment.
Then he stroked her once more with his tongue, down the length of her entire slit, the pressure of it sending waves of pleasure up her spine. She was close, too close. Her legs were shaky, her entire body trembling against the wall as he goddamned kissed her in that most sensitive spot.
A noise came out of her, a low purr of affection she didn't recognize. But Weller must have known exactly what it meant, or else he could read the tremor in her legs, because he pulled his mouth away from her clit and started kissing his way back up to her navel.
It felt good but more taunting than anything. She did not want to make slow languid love with Kurt Weller. Let him pleasure her over and over before seeking his own release. That had been done, that was for Jane.
"Now, Kurt," she growled, grasping him under his arms and pulling him up abruptly into a passionate kiss, her hands gripping his face she pressed her soaking pussy into his rock hard erection.
Weller grunted his assent, then surprised her by picking her up until she could wind her legs around his torso, then gripping her ass firmly with his hands as he carried her over to the concrete bed and sat her down on it.
For a moment, he stared down at her, the hunger in his eyes replaced by something else. Just a flash of sadness but so deep and instant there was no mistaking it. But then it was gone, no trace of it left as Weller grabbed her wrists in his hands and lay her down, restraining her hands above her head as his cock hardened against her groin, then found its way inside of her.
Normally, she did not like being dominated, tied up during sex in any way. Too much trauma plus loss of control added up to panic, no matter how much she trusted her partner. But when Weller pinned her down, first with his hands and then with his dick, she wanted him so bad her body forgot to struggle, to feel unsafe.
He started out slowly, rocking his hips sensually against hers while staring into her eyes. Remi looked away, unable to withstand the intimacy of the moment and arched her back hard the next time he pushed into her; reaching around his back with her legs to increase the friction between them.
Weller reacted with a grunt of mild surprise, then a more forceful thrust of his hips, a harder grip on her wrists. She should hate it, constrained and fucking Weller in a concrete bunker. She should be thinking of how to escape, use his arousal against him.
But instead she found herself grunting his name, pushing herself against him as hard as she could while he nipped at her neck, ground his weight into her.
"Yes, yes," she growled, "Yes, Kurt. More. Faster. Please."
He felt so fucking good, all slick against her, deep inside of her. His pace was amping up and she could feel him start to lose control as his breath quickened into a pant, his hips pressing into hers harder and harder.
For an indistinct hazy amount of time she was entirely his, their bodies grinding together in a perfect rhythm, his mouth making her shudder as she rode his cock endlessly. For once Remi completely forgot she should hate the effect that Weller's tongue had on her, her utter desire for it.
She was so close yet again, almost at the tipping point of physical ecstasy. Weller was equally close, judging from the increasing pounding of his hips, the stiffness of his body. And this time it wasn't annoying in the least that he was such an attentive lover that he could bring them to simultaneous orgasm. In fact, she needed it; to come with him, their bodies perfectly in sync, writhing together in total bliss.
The only thing missing then would be the one thing she'd never get from him. His love, his affection. In the throes of pleasure she wanted to be his, to hear her own name groaned with rapture. But he would never admit it, cheating on his precious Jane in any way.
He had to know though, didn't he?
This all flashed through her head just as Weller released her wrists leaving just his cock still pumping into her. Remi let her legs fall off of him and tried to look around, wondering what he was doing with his hands. But then when all thought was stopped when he pulled out quickly and moved her onto her side; spooning her while pushing back into her forcefully, now with his thumb on her clit too, rubbing it just in the right way.
The burst of euphoria almost pushed her over the top, his cock and his hand all that existed for her at the moment. She could feel Weller straining as he bucked against her again and again until the friction became overwhelming, mind-blowing, full-body bliss; total release.
And at that very moment, just as the elation rose to mutual completion, she heard Kurt mutter both the best and worst words she could imagine.
"I'm sorry Remi," he said.
Then she felt a jab in her thigh and everything faded to black.
At first Weller had thought he couldn't go through with it, even just his original plan. Kiss her, come on to her.
And now he had tasted her, teased her, made her moan with desire. His hands still held her wrists captive and her legs snaked around his torso while he ground himself into her, groaning as he increased the friction between them.
It was time, she was almost there and he was too. It was undeniably hot, the whole fucked up situation. Especially with Remi no longer pretending to be Jane, her grasp rough and desperate, a rawness in her stone-edged tone. He had thought he couldn't go through with it and now here he was, covered in her, about to come inside of her.
Weller released Remi's arms, then quickly pulled himself out before scooping behind her and holding her to him as he pushed back in again. At the same time, he reached for the hidden syringe with one hand as he curled the other one around her hips, finding her clit and giving it that particular stroke that Jane went crazy for.
Remi started, like an electric current ran through her. She was extremely close to peaking and he was too, the timing as perfect as he could manage. The syringe was in his other hand and they were about to climax together; there was just one last detail he had to remember.
Kurt bucked against her, unloaded in her. His body shook with ecstasy and release as Remi reached behind her, dug her fingers into him as she, too, rocked with bliss.
His mind almost went blank, all his plans forgotten in his post-ejaculatory fog. But then she shifted against him and he remembered that she would want to know. That it had been a gift, along with his revenge.
"I'm sorry, Remi," he said, jabbing the needle into her leg.
Weller watched as understanding came over Remi's face, a half second before her eyes closed and she slumped back away from him. He lay her down carefully, then caressed her cheek with his thumb while kissing her softly on the forehead.
He felt an angry tear arise, a blast of hot shame as he rolled away from her, looked at her lying there, gorgeous and glistening. His wife and not his wife all at once.
He loved Jane, never thought he could ever knowingly cheat on her. Fucking Remi should have been an abhorrent prospect and yet he'd really had no resistance to her. Which, in hindsight, seemed like the ultimate betrayal of his wife, to fuck someone that looked exactly like her but was not her at all. Not that he could know what Jane would think about that particular situation; he didn't even know if he could ever get her back.
At the same time, he'd given Remi incredible pleasure, satiated her need. Which meant, in a way, he'd gotten Jane off too, given her physical body some release.
Kurt sighed, shook his head at his absurd situation and drank in his naked not-wife. He brushed a few stray strands of sweaty hair off of her face and then pressed one more kiss to her forehead.
"I'm sorry, Remi," he repeated, his heart heavier than he imagined. "But I need Jane back."