herself.
Pegeen glanced at the clock on the radio-alarm beside her bed. Think about the woman for the next five minutes, she demanded of herself.
Think about how you can help her, it's what you're here for, it's why you joined the Bureau. If Becker is right about the way all of this is falling down, you should get to her by tomorrow. If Becker is right, and he seems so confident that he is… shit, she was thinking of Becker.
She glanced at the clock again, didn't notice what time it said, and crossed to the door. If he's still slouching against that column, I'll fuck him, she thought, but if he's not there, if he's gone into his room, I'll go to bed and never think of him again.
He was not leaning against the column, he was standing right outside her door, looking as if he were prepared to eat his way through it if necessary.
Those eyes, Christ those eyes, she thought. They were blazing at her, into her, burning through her.
She placed her hand on his face and he jerked back slightly as if surprised by the contact. As she ran her fingers from his cheek to the side of his head he shivered like an animal but made no move towards her. It was like stroking the flank of a tiger or a wolf, something wild and dangerous and unaccustomed to human touch, something that tolerated her, uncertain whether to flee, bite, or give itself over to the pleasure.
She kept her gaze on her hand, watching the fingers as they moved across his flesh, afraid to look directly at him.
Afraid to look into those eyes again for fear they might devour her.
When she touched the rim of his ear he jerked again, and gasped. He was quivering all over, his whole body trembling with the effort to hold still.
'Shhh,' she said, not realizing what she was saying.
It was a sound she would have made to calm an animal.
She ran her hand along his shoulder, feeling the muscles tense under her touch, then slowly trailed her fingers down his arm. She watched her fingers work, saw his bare skin tighten and spring into gooseflesh. When she reached his hand, she caressed the back of his fingers first, seeing him shiver once more, then gently intertwined her fingers with his. Only then, with their joined hands forming a fist, did she look at his face again.
God, the intensity of his eyes. So deep and dark, a tumultuous brown sea of emotion with his whole soul riding on it, begging her, beseeching her, but unable to speak, or unheard over the tumultuous roar of his passions.
If he didn't touch her now, if he didn't respond, she thought he would surely burst, and so would she. Rising up on her toes, she reached for his mouth with hers, letting her eyelids slide down, searching for him blindly. His lips grazed hers and she heard him make a sound, a whimper, then he pulled his head back.
She looked at him again and saw something change as surely as if something had clicked behind his eyes. Where before he had been all yearning, frightened, vulnerable desire, he was now power. He had taken control of himself. A tiny smile tugged at his lips, knowing, almost mocking.
He touched her neck first and she could feel the sensation ripple through her entire body, tugging at her loins.
I'm lost, I may be lost, she thought.
Becker lifted her, carried her into the room, and pressed her against the door. She felt his whole body tremble as he kissed her.
It was all so frantic, so kaleidoscopic in its variety that at times Pegeen was not sure where she was as they moved from the door towards the bed with the haphazard logic of a pinball threatening to burst from the confines of the machine. At one point he sat her on the dresser, her legs locked around him, and at another he was behind her, touching her everywhere with hands of fire. He turned her, twisted her, lifted her, held her against the wall, all the while seeking her mouth, his hands seeming to fly over her and torment her with touches that were never long enough. They stumbled once as she was undressing him, Becker tumbling to the floor, pulling her down with him. Pegeen started to laugh at their desperate need, but then he was atop her, pinning her down at first, then rolling so she was atop him, then rolling again.
He seemed beyond himself, so out-of-control that he did not even know what he wanted from her beyond endless contact, as if he could not get enough of touching her, of kissing her, of holding her, and yet as if each touch and each position deprived him of another and so he went on and on, clutching and shifting with ceaseless abandon, and everything he did felt right and wonderful to Pegeen, so right and exciting that she was close to losing herself along with him.
She panted and moaned and found herself shaking her head from side to side as if she were being tortured, but it was a torture that she embraced and demanded and she cried out, uncertain what she was saying, and he responded, growling something low in his throat as his mouth attacked her face, her lips, her neck, her breasts.
They were nude at last and on the bed and her face was wet with his kisses and her own saliva and her breasts wailed with the pleasure of his mouth and hands and tongue and everything he did and every move he made seemed to gather in her loins and pull at her as if all the nerves in her body were gathered there and screaming and screaming for more, for release.
Still he didn't enter her but attacked her in a frenzy of hands and mouth, as if he would devour her before he took her. His passion was like a rage and Pegeen was frightened of it as much as she was excited by it. She didn't know what he wanted, what she could give him, and when she tried with her own mouth and hands to give him release he would move away from her, reposition himself and tear at her with pleasure again, too distracted, too delirious to seek relief.
At first Pegeen was too overwhelmed to let herself go completely; she held her innermost self in reserve while joining in his frenzy with;her senses, taking all the pleasure he had to give her while protecting her emotions.
She wasn't sure that all of this was for her, that she could have inspired so much heat and sexual fury, that he even knew who he had in his arms and under his tongue, it seemed beyond sex somehow, as if Becker were tormented by a devil who might express himself in sex but could never be fully found there. She did not want to give herself completely to a man who might not even know who he was with and she withheld as long as she could, but finally it was all too much for her, much, much too much and she came to his hand and she came to his mouth and it seemed that she came to his breath alone, screaming oW crying out his name and finally cursing and flailing as if her nerves and senses had taken control of her completely and would never stop and never let her go. And even at the height of her pleasure she was frightened because she had let herself go and had given herself over to him completely and she knew she was lost, lost and hopelessly gone from safety, in his grip and under his power.
Finally there was nothing for her but to have him and she demanded it, whispering at first that she wanted him, then calling out and pulling him onto her and into her and wrapping her legs to lock him in place.
Every thrust made her cry out and seemed to reverberate from her loins to her heart and she heard herself bellowing at him to continue, to do more and more and more and she said he was driving her crazy and she swore at him and cursed him with language of the gutter that astounded her as she heard it, but it was as if someone else were yelling, someone else were writhing on the bed and tearing at his back, someone who had lost her mind completely.
He seemed never to stop, never to tire, and Pegeen thought her body was on fire with sensation and wave after thrilling wave struck her and lifted her and bucketed her and she thought she would surely die and didn't care and finally, finally, with a growl growing low in his throat then building to a final burst that was a gasp as if his heart had ruptured, he shuddered to an end and at that very moment Pegeen was certain she felt everything he was feeling, doubling her own incredible sensation until it was simply too much to bear and she died.
Pegeen came to her senses astounded at herself, but far, far past embarrassment. She had never fainted in her life, but then she had never experienced anything like that in her life either. She did not know how long she had been passed out, or if he had noticed. In fact, she was still not convinced that he knew who she was; his need had seemed so great it was elemental rather than personal, but she had known who he was and even as she lay there, hoping he wouldn't speak for fear he might say the wrong thing, she knew she was in love with him.
His body was heavy upon her, his head still facedown next to her neck, where he had collapsed. Pegeen lay quietly, trying to distinguish his heartbeat from her own, his breathing from hers. She realized that all the lights were, on in the room and it surprised her because it had seemed that their lovemaking had taken place in the dark,
