| Title: Roped Author: Jo Fandom: The Faculty RPF Pairing: Josh Hartnett/Famke Janssen Rating: NC17 Summary: Josh isn't too young. Disclaimer: Nope, never happened. And if you think it did, well...I suggest you go look up the word "fiction" in the nearest dictionary. Notes: I blame this one all on Brenda. I can't think of anyone else who can get me to write Josh.
Okay, where the hell was everyone? Famke looked at her watch, peered around the barn again. Not a single one of her cast mates was in sight, even though they were all supposed to go horseback riding today. One of the only days they'd had off in weeks. "Damn it," she muttered under her breath as she turned to leave. And stopped, staring at the figure lounging against the open door. "Leaving already?" Josh asked, husky voice rasping across her nerves. "You just got here." "And it looks like I'm the only other one," she replied, watching him closely. The entire shoot, she'd been fending off his advances. He was too young, thirteen years too young. But damned if the boy wasn't persistent. "No, they've all come and gone already." Josh pushed away from the door and started in her direction. Was he really wearing cowboy boots? "They couldn't have waited?" Her eyes flew back up to his. She was not going to look at his jeans. Wasn't going to stare at the way worn, faded-to-almost-white denim stretched snugly over lean hips, clung to muscled thighs. Wasn't going to admire the way the material cupped his -- Okay, stop. No more thinking about the way Josh filled out his jeans. "You're late." "What?" She was not. Famke looked at her watch again, blinked. It was barely past 12:10. "You're late," Josh repeated, voice dropping. He stopped in front of her, so close she could feel his body heat. And smell him. The light pine scent of what she imagined was his soap mingled nicely with the dry hay and leather tack odors permeating the air. She shook her head, took a step back. "I'm only ten minutes late," Famke said, backing up another step. Josh just smiled. "Actually, you're an hour late." An hour? "You said noon." "Did I? Oh, that's right, I forgot. They decided to go at 11:00. I'm sorry." Her eyes widened, then narrowed. He certainly didn't look sorry. In fact, he looked entirely too pleased. And smug. "Josh," she said, voice low, "you told me we were leaving at noon." "They changed their minds." He shrugged, smiled. "Guess no one remembered to tell you." "I don't suppose that you were the one who was supposed to tell me, where you?" And there it was. That wide-eyed, too innocent look that she'd learned early on meant trouble. "Now that you mention it," he said, scratching the back of his neck, "I think I might have been." "Damn it, Josh!" Famke glared at him as he held up his hands. "I forgot. Don't be mad," he said, flashing her a very charming, boyish smile. "I did stay back for you." "How thoughtful," she said, in an acidic tone. "Aw, c'mon." Josh smiled again, took a step closer. "I thought we could spend some time together today. The others won't be back for hours." Just bet you did. "I'll find something else to do," she snapped, moved to brush past him. Josh grabbed her arm with a gentle grasp. Famke did her best to ignore how warm his skin was against hers. And she wasn't even going think of how big his hands were. There lay dragons and all that nonsense. "You've been avoiding me," Josh murmured, fingertips brushing her inner arm while she tried to tug away. "Why?" "Because I'm not interested in what you're repeatedly offering," she replied through gritted teeth. "No?" "No." Damn it, did he have to stand so close? It was hard to think what that smell filling her nostrils. It was very much an all-male scent. "Liar," Josh chuckled, the sound a low purr against her ear. The soft vibration raised goosebumps down the back of her neck. "What?" She whipped her head around to look at him, hair flying. "If you're not interested," he said, smiling down at her in that positively infuriating way he had, "then why are you all flushed and breathing so hard?" "I'm pissed." "Then why are your nipples hard?" Josh tilted his head, let his eyes slowly rake her body. "I can see 'em through your shirt." Famke didn't have to look down to verify his observation. She'd felt her nipples (traitorous things that they were) tighten the second he touched her. Which is exactly what she'd been afraid would happen. Hence the avoidance. Damn it all, he was too young. "I, um," she began, then stopped when those incredible brown eyes locked with hers. "You want me," Josh said, simply. "You're too young." Even to her own ears, the protest sounded weak. She could only imagine how it sounded to him. "Am I?" "Yes." Famke swallowed, nodded. He sounded calm. Too calm. "You are." Without speaking, Josh changed his grip, spun her around until her back was flush against his chest. One hand settled on her hip, pulling her back against him. The other slid around her ribs to cup a breast so his thumb could rub over a treacherously hard nipple. He nudged her hair aside with his chin until his lips brushed her ear. Famke could feel the heat, the hardness, of his erection searing her through a double layer of denim. She froze. "Does this," Josh said as he slowly ground his hips against her ass, "feel like I'm too young?" OhGodohGod. Famke couldn't move, couldn't speak. All she could do was stand there and try not to tremble. The insistent rubbing of his hips against her was maddening. And so very, very thrilling. She could already feel the heaviness spreading through her limbs, feel her body starting to soften, to respond. "Tell me," Josh continued, using his greater weight to push her forward. His fingers nimbly undid the first few buttons of her blouse, then slipped inside, sliding under the lace of her bra. "Does it still feel like I'm too young?" The skin on skin contact was like a jolt of electricity through her body. Her spine arched, pushing her breast into his palm, her hips back against his. She had to bite her lip to keep from making a sound when he chuckled. Somehow, he was tapping into her darkest, most secret fantasy -- to be taken, made to submit. "You keep telling me no," Josh whispered, biting the soft skin on the side of her neck, "but your body's giving off a different signal. Which one's lying to me, Famke?" God. Oh, God. He had to stop. She had to make him stop. "You..." She paused, took a deep breath. Tried to steady her voice. "It's just...hormones. You're...too young." "Hormones?" Josh laughed again, the low sound wrapping around her senses, sending a shiver up her spine. "Tell me to stop, then. Tell me you don't want this, and I'll leave." "Josh..." Famke knew she was lost when she was unable to swallow the moan that ended his name. And she knew that Josh knew it, too. "I...please." She didn't have time to say anything else before Josh spun her around. She was only vaguely aware of buttons flying as he tore her shirt open the rest of the way. All she could focus on was the hard bulge nudging against her lower belly. That, and how close his mouth was to hers. So close she could feel his breath wafting over her parted lips, mingling with hers. Then she couldn't focus on anything but the taste of smoke and mint as his mouth covered hers, tongue parting her lips to delve inside. And just the heat, the intensity, of his kiss was enough to make her melt against him, knees going weak. When he finally lifted his head and smiled, tongue sliding over his lower lip, Famke shuddered. Good lord. Who had taught him to kiss like that? Before she could do anything else, Josh lifted her and shoved her against the wall. "Red lace," Josh murmured with a wicked grin. "How very naughty of you." Wet heat enveloped her nipple as he mouthed it through the thin material. That was all it took. She was his. And she was pretty damn sure she wasn't going to survive. But what a way to die. "Oh, God," she murmured, sinking her fingers into his hair. He just laughed, used one hand to unfasten her bra. And then his mouth was on bare skin, teeth raking, tongue flicking, and it was just...God...yeah. Liquid heat, connected right to her crotch. "Gonna fuck you," Josh whispered, lips trailing over her skin so he could pay homage to her other nipple. Each lick of a soft tongue across her skin, each stinging graze of teeth over sensitive flesh, sent sparks dancing over her nerves. So what if he was too young? As long as he kept doing that, Famke damn sure wasn't going to complain any more. "Please, Josh..." she murmured, tugged at his hair. Josh just laughed softly, warm breath puffing over her damp skin. Then his tongue was sliding over puckered flesh, trailing up her throat to her ear. "Like how that sounds." His teeth caught her lobe, nibbled at it, even as he let her feet touch the floor again. "Love the way you say my name, all breathy and soft like that...bet it'll sound great while I'm fucking you." She shivered, fingers plucking at his shirt. He was wearing entirely too many clothes. And why was that, anyway? If she was going to be half undressed, she wanted him half undressed as well. "Off," she muttered, tugging at the reluctant fabric again. "Gladly," Josh said as he pulled the shirt over his head. It rumpled his hair in passing, and Famke couldn't resist the urge to slide her fingers through it. Then he was kissing her again, hard and demanding, bare chest rubbing insistently against her already tight nipples. She moaned into his mouth. Couldn't help herself, really. Every single inch of contact was on fire, nerves alive like they hadn't been in ages. Had she really thought he was too young? Showed what the hell she knew. A few deft movements while she was otherwise distracted, and he had her shoes and jeans off. His hands on her bare thighs, faint scraping of calloused fingertips over her skin, had her shivering again. He chuckled. "Matching panties," he murmured, eyes flashing with delight and lust. "You wicked, wicked girl." Famke didn't have a chance to tell him to shut up before he dropped to his knees. He wasn't...he was. One hand fisted tight in his hair as she shoved the other in her mouth to keep from crying out. His tongue licked over damp lace, and he made a satisfied sound deep in his throat. He should be satisfied. She was wetter than she could ever remember being. "You smell nice." He grinned up at her, slid a hand along the outside of her thigh when she draped a leg over his shoulder. Oh. Oh, God. He pulled her other leg up to rest on his other shoulder, and stood. There wasn't much choice but to go with it. At least he was holding her up, and she had the wall to help support her. And the uneven slats overhead to grab onto when strong hands dug into her hips, and Josh dove back in. Jesus fucking Christ and all the saints. She was barely coherent enough to register nimble fingers pulling her panties to one side. With no barrier in place, his tongue slid along slick folds, flicked over sensitized flesh before plunging deep inside her. OhGodohGodohfuck. The rhythmic thrusting of his tongue in and out of her was fast driving her insane. And the way his thumb kept rubbing small circles on her hip... "Fuck, you taste incredible," Josh murmured, placed a soft kiss on the inside of her thigh. Famke looked down at him with clouded eyes. Her hips bucked, and she bit her lip hard to swallow her scream when his tongue returned, flicking rapidly over her clit. "Josh," she managed to say, voice choked. Then she couldn't remember the rest of the sentence. Not that it was important. The only important thing was the way his tongue kept circling her clit, moving over it in tiny, butterfly-light licks. He was either really fucking inventive, or he'd had a lot of practice. Either way, she didn't give a damn. Didn't give a damn about much except his mouth and how he was licking and suckling, fucking her so good with that extremely talented tongue. And... Where the hell had he learned that? She didn't even have time to register the tingling in her thigh muscles before the orgasm slammed into her. Back arched, head thumping back against the wall, fingers digging into the wood over her head...Famke tried to ride it out. But Josh's tongue was merciless, relentless. She felt another, smaller orgasm rolling fast on the heels of the first. When Josh pulled her down moments later, there wasn't a non-pliant bone in her body. In fact, she was having enough trouble just making her arms work enough to cling to him. "Absofuckinglutely gorgeous," he said, kissed her, shared the taste of her orgasm with her. A soft non-sound escaped her lips when he carried her into a stall, kicked the door shut with his foot. Somewhere along the way, the few remaining scraps of clothing that had adorned her body had disappeared. No matter. She'd find them later. And that was about as capable as she was of coherent thought. Muscles and nerves still twitched, jumped at each light brush of his fingers over her skin. He laid her down...what...oh. Hay bale. At least, she thought it was a hay bale. There were things pricking and poking her back through the coarse wool of the blanket. Things pricking and poking at her. It was almost enough to make her giggle. But then Josh smiled, and the force of that smile was enough to curl her toes. "Gonna fuck you so good," he murmured, vanished from her line of sight. Returned following faint noises that were almost like foil ripping and latex stretching. And...oh...oh...ohGod. OhfuckohGodohGodplease... She felt the faint rasp of denim against her skin as he slid in deep with one thrust. That single thrust had her arching up, head falling back to bare her throat. He was a fuck of a lot bigger than she'd imagined -- thicker, longer, harder. Felt like he was going to split her in two. And she didn't give a damn, because he was touching every single inch of her. Least that's how it felt. And, Christ, it felt amazing. Each rough, brutal thrust slid her forward only to be yanked back by strong hands on her hips. Satiny skin bruised in pale-purple marks, joints and muscles protested for a split second when he lifted her legs, bent her knees to her chest. Rested her ankles on his shoulders. Which just enabled him to thrust deeper, harder. It was like something out of a porn flick, only not. Better. More intense. A hell of a lot more erotic. And through the whole thing, Josh talked. Whispered incredibly naughty things in her ear in that husky voice of his. "So fuckin' tight," was the first thing he whispered, followed quickly by "so wet." And "do that again, baby, love the way your pussy grips me, like it's begging for my cock to fuck it so hard." The whole time, he was slamming into her, flesh slapping against flesh in the otherwise silent barn. Famke couldn't stand it. Any more talking, and she was going to come again just from that alone. So she grabbed his head, yanked him down. Ignored how the move almost bent her in half as her lips parted for his tongue. Then Josh was fucking her mouth with his tongue, fucking her pussy with his cock. All Famke could do was claw at his back, nails leaving ragged, red stripes as her body bucked and writhed beneath him. So good, so hot, so...oh. She would have screamed if not for his tongue in her mouth. It was as if a tornado had picked her up, spun her around, slammed her back down. Thought and breath stolen, gone and not even missed. Every muscle stretched bow-string tight, trembling, and all her senses reeling and whirling until there was nothing left but a glow of sheer sensation that was wrapped up in here and now and Josh. There wasn't even enough time to breathe, to suck air into starving lungs, before Josh pulled out, pulled her up. Ignored her whimpered protests. Forced her to her knees. His hand spanned her jaw easily as he held her in place, guided his cock between her parted lips. Famke had a brief flash of God, his hands are so big and hey, where'd the condom go before she was choking, swallowing, jaw stretched wide to accommodate him. "That's it, baby," he murmured, thumb rubbing over her throat. "Suck my cock. Take it all." Famke tried to take it all. God, how she tried. It was messy and sloppy, employing none of her usual finesse. Her tongue slipped and slid along the length, licking every drop of her juices from him before her fingers wrapped around the shaft. Then all she could taste was Josh as she moved, head bobbing, hand sliding to meet her lips. Through it all, Josh kept talking. Kept telling her how good it felt, how gorgeous she was on her knees, how pretty she looked with his cock in her mouth. He had such a dirty mouth. And the way he'd taken complete control...it had her clit throbbing, aching. But when she slipped her free hand between her thighs, fingers grazing slippery skin, Josh tangled a hand in her hair and tugged her up. "Ah ah ah," Josh murmured, wicked grin curving his mouth. He laughed softly, the sound twining around her senses until she was dizzy. "That's mine." His? Famke opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. She was too busy trying to keep her balance as he spun her around and shoved her face down over the hay bale. Her protest was swallowed when he nudged her legs apart, forced her hands behind her back. "Josh..." He didn't reply. Just held her wrists in one hand at the small of her back, gripped her hip with the other, and drove into her. There was no talking this time. Only fast and hard and dirty, cock sliding in and out of her as Josh took and took. Over and over. Fingers bruised her hip, her wrists. Denim rubbed against her flesh. His zipper scratched her skin, leaving a cross-hatching of tiny red marks. His breath, harsh and hot, fluttered over her skin. It was a hundred times better than the first time. This was what Famke wanted. Brutal, dirty sex that left her bruised and sore, a hard cock taking and claiming, hands and lips marking her skin. And Josh was giving her everything she wanted, everything she'd never realized she wanted. He was pervasive, invasive, filling every pore with his scent, his taste. Filling her again and again, demanding more with every thrust, every unspoken word. It was no surprise she screamed his name when she came. So hard she almost blacked out. "Knew it was gonna sound great," Josh said, tongue curling along the shell of her ear. His hand left her hip, tangled in her hair, fingers knotting through long, dark tresses. "Again." Again? Oh, God. She didn't have it in her. There was nothing left. Josh had taken everything. He owned her, and he knew it. But he was demanding more. And fuck if her body wasn't responding, pushing back against him as much as she could with her hands still pinned. Instinct took over. He continued to ride her, and she moved with him. Broken moans filled the air, and Famke realized, through the daze that clouded her mind, that the sounds were hers. He'd reduced her to this. And she loved every second of it. Loved that he could make her beg and moan. Loved that he could make her scream his name, then whisper it with a broken voice. Loved that he knew exactly what she wanted and craved. Loved that he knew all along, even when she was lying to herself. It was liberating. Her legs trembled, muscles spasming in the throes of another orgasm. That made...what? Four? Five? She'd long since lost count, not that it mattered. Josh's thrusts came faster, and there was less control in them. Jerky, almost frenzied. Hips pistoned against hers, fingers dug into her flesh. Soft gasps reached her ears as he held her down and fucked her hard. Another tiny orgasm rippled through her, triggered by the fly of his jeans rubbing against her clit with each thrust. Then he let out a low groan, jerked, stiffened, and she could feel his muscles quivering as he spilled inside her in a hot, sticky rush. She welcomed the weight of sated muscles when he slumped across her back. "Fuckin' perfect," he sighed, kissed the back of her neck as he released her hands. Fingers danced along her sides, soothing, petting. Then, moments later, he was gone. She missed him, missed his body against hers, in hers. Missed the weight and warmth and pure maleness of him. Much as she missed all that, she couldn't move. Not yet. Still needed time to convince her muscles that they could work and not just twitch. Even the soft, scuffling sounds outside the stall couldn't get her to move. The only thing that could was Josh, reappearing with her clothes. "Here," he murmured. Gentle hands, so at odds with their earlier bruising force, helped her up, helped her dress. "Josh..." "Shh, not now," he whispered against her lips with a soft, undemanding kiss that was nothing at all like the previous ones. His fingers sifted through her hair, unknotted tangles, smoothed it back to some semblance of order. "Josh," Famke tried again, only to be silenced by his thumb across her lips. "Later." He smiled, kissed her again. "Tonight. My room." She blinked. His room, tonight? "And, Famke," he said, voice low, eyes dark and glittering. "Don't make me wait."
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