Mesmerized

"Look, Jack! What a nice surprise!" Phryne was rummaging through a few boxes in her spare room in search of something to wear for the upcoming yearly costume party at her cousin Guy's house.

She held up the two pink ostrich fans she'd had made for her investigation at the Imperial Club. "Ah, what a night! You remember, don't you?"

"How could I possibly forget?" Jack, who had been elbows deep in costume props right next to her, raised his head, a disapproving frown on his face. Though really, nowadays she was never quite sure he wasn't just messing with her when he looked so stern. "Now, that, Miss Fisher…" He raised an accusatory eyebrow. "That was definitely one of your more extravagant exploits. I still cannot believe you actually were reckless enough to go through with it. If anyone had recognized you, it would have caused quite the scandal."

"But, Jack." Phryne put on her best look of wide-eyed innocence. "You have to admit I'm very good at fan dancing. It would be a tragedy to let such a talent go to waste. Besides," she purred, tilting one of the fans in his direction at a rakish angle. "You did stay and watch. The whole performance."

"So I did." Jack cleared his throat, but he didn't say more.

"Well?" Phryne gave a little wave with the fan. "If it was so very scandalous, then why didn't you leave before things got too heated?"

"I have no idea, Miss Fisher." Jack's expression remained perfectly serious, except… wasn't there a twinkle in his eye? "Perhaps I was mesmerized."

"Mesmerized, eh?" Phryne felt a smile tug at her lips. "Well, at least you didn't end up squawking like a chicken. Poor Bert." She sighed, remembering the indignities that the horrible Mr Merton had inflicted on one of her favourite cabbies.

"No. No chickens involved, thankfully." Jack's tone was dry. "But really, I believe you had me under some sort of spell. Paralyzed and unable to look away. I don't think I can be held responsible for my actions, considering just how enchanted I was with your performance."

His eyes met hers, and Phryne felt a pleasant frisson all along her spine. "A spell, you say?" She couldn't deny that she was flattered by his admission. "Or maybe you just kept looking because you liked what you saw?"

Jack shrugged. "I certainly did. Still, we shouldn't discount my theory just yet." Taking a step forward, he extended one arm to pull her close to his body. "Well, Miss Fisher? Did you put a spell on me?" His face was right before her, and yes, there was a definite glimmer of mischief in his gaze. "Did you exert your considerable powers to melt away all my principles and turn me into a helpless thrall?" His lips brushed against hers for a heartbeat. "If you confess now, I might be persuaded not to press charges."

Phryne felt a moan rise in her throat. It was really embarrassing how much this kind of talk was turning her on. "No spell. Just… damn it, Jack, you're distracting me!" Because now he was gently nibbling on her earlobe, and how was a girl supposed to focus on seducing him if he kept going on like this! "You know, we could test your theory."

"We could?" He pulled back a little, which gave her a chance to clear her head. "And how would you propose to do that?"

"Well…" Ah, it felt good to be back in charge again. "Maybe, if we recreate the original situation, as much as possible…"

"You want to go back to the club? A comeback for… was it Miss Lulu?" Jack was playing dumb, of course. "Somehow, I don't think we'd be welcome there."

"I don't think we need to go quite that far." Phryne batted her eyelids at him. "I was thinking more of a… private performance. Just the two of us."

"Interesting." Jack rubbed his neck thoughtfully. "And the point of the experiment would be to prove that-"

"That you are perfectly able to withstand my wiles, no matter how hard I try." Gods, the look in his eyes! Phryne shivered. "Of course, if the opposite turns out to be true, that would be a perfectly valid result as well. After all, scientific discovery is all about being objective. No point in experimenting if you're prejudiced about the outcome."

"Of course." Jack was a picture of rationality. "So… what now?"

"I need some time to prepare." Gathering up the fans, Phryne dug deeper into the box for the rest of the costume. Ah, yes. Everything she needed was there, neatly folded and labelled. Dot was such a treasure, really. "Why don't you get comfortable downstairs and wait for me? Oh, and you might find us some music. Something nice and dramatic."

"Don't worry." Jack was already at the door. "I think I know exactly what we need."

Jack shook his head, smiling to himself as he made his way downstairs to search Phryne's extensive record collection for something suitable. You remember, don't you? she'd asked, as if that particular night wasn't etched indelibly into his memory. Phryne, up on the stage, moving with such sinuous grace, drinking in the admiring gazes of the men assembled around her; her body tantalisingly hidden behind the fans – until suddenly it wasn't, and the whole room had gotten an eyeful of her perfect breasts… No, it was not likely he'd ever forget.

He'd fallen for her long before that night, of course, he'd desired her long before that glorious spectacle. But that night had been different. That night, when he'd returned to his cold and lonely bed, he'd no longer been able to keep himself from moaning her name into his pillow while he came hard into his own hand. As a rule, Jack Robinson was a man who prided himself on not giving in to his baser urges. A life as a policeman had left him with a healthy distrust of any form of licentiousness, and even now, he sometimes felt flustered by Phryne's more relaxed moral standards. But he was only human, after all, and the sight of Phryne in all her naked, pink-feathered glory had done things to him he couldn't quite explain. He was definitely looking forward to a repeat performance.

He picked a record from the stash and set up the gramophone, then made himself comfortable in his favourite armchair with a glass of scotch. And he waited. It didn't actually take long, but by the time Phryne made her entrance, the tingle of anticipation in his belly had risen to a low throbbing of arousal, not yet so urgent that he couldn't enjoy the dance, just enough to add an extra thrill.

"Jack. Music." Her voice was deep and sultry, and he eagerly obliged.

And here she was, suddenly appearing in the cone of light from the lamp, her head held high, every inch the performer as she teasingly dipped one of the fans to offer a glimpse of her bare shoulder. Jack was immediately captivated again, just as he'd been back then, at the club. Only this time the whole scenario was far more intimate. There was no safe distance between them, no Hugh staring wide-eyed at the stage, no Bert and Cec chuckling and nudging each other. It was just the two of them, Phryne performing her increasingly daring moves, and him watching, devouring her with his eyes, his drink all but forgotten on the little table next to him.

The fans were moving as if they had a life of their own, tormenting him by offering fleeting glances of soft, creamy skin, driving him almost to distraction. Phryne took her time, far longer than she had at the club, allowing the tension to build higher and higher. By the time the music reached its crescendo and she raised the fans high above her head, Jack was strung as tightly as a live wire, struggling to bear it any longer. He didn't even fully understand why – after all, he'd seen all of her so many times now. Phryne's body was no longer a secret to him, no longer a hidden temptation, but even so, the finale was almost overwhelming.

Phryne finished with a graceful bow, then raised her eyes to meet his. "Well, Jack, what's your verdict? Mesmerized?"

"Oh yes." He swallowed hard, when she nonchalantly dropped the fans. There really was no need to exaggerate his reaction. "Completely entranced. Utterly unable to move." Well, at least not without embarrassing himself. "Wholly at your mercy." And that was nothing but the truth. Try as he might he couldn't take his eyes off her. The wispy, feathered knickers she wore hardly hid anything from his gaze, and that damned necklace only served to make her look even more naked. Jack's fingers tightened around the armrest of the chair.

"Well, that sounds intriguing." And now she was was walking towards him, and he was truly mesmerized, hypnotised by the gentle sway of her breasts and the low hum of the music in the background. Phryne smiled at his expression, and straddled him without further ado, her firm thighs framing his body. Her hard, taut nipples were just inches from his face, and he was still unable to move, frozen in place.

"Jack?" Her voice had dropped to a soft, warm purr.

He was rock-hard, of course, had been for quite a while and Phryne took full advantage of the fact, rubbing herself against him like an overgrown cat, grinding into him without the slightest bit of shame, as if she really was a nightclub dancer. And yet, no professional dancer could ever have excited him the way she did, because this was Phryne, the woman who could seduce him with nothing but a look and a smile, the woman he loved more than he could afford to admit, even to himself.

"Jack? Are you all right?" She sounded almost worried now, and he finally managed to shake off the trance, gathering her up in his arms and lifting her a little higher so he could get his mouth on her breasts.

Phryne responded with an enthusiastic moan, arching her back, so he instinctively sucked harder.

"Gods, Jack." Phryne sounded almost as wrecked as he felt, and they hadn't even started yet. "Don't stop."

He had no intention of doing so, now that he had her where he wanted her. So he kept suckling, kept teasing her, alternating between both nipples, unable to decide which one he adored more. Phryne's moans and whispers were getting more incoherent by the minute, but she wasn't idle either. Somehow, in the middle of all this, his tie came loose and disappeared, then his shirt was unbuttoned and moments later, Phryne's hands were exploring his bare chest. His pants were starting to bother him, and when Phryne got to work on his fly, he lifted his hips to help her, groaning when her nimble fingers found his cock.

"Do you want to take this to the bedroom?" Phryne's face was flushed with arousal.

He shook his head. "No. I'm fine here." Too much of a delay, and besides, there was simply no way he could handle the stairs, considering the state he was in.

When his fingers brushed against the smooth silk of her knickers, he found that it was soaked, clinging to her skin, and the thought sent a fierce rush of pride through him. For a second, he considered tearing them off, but he held back – he rather hoped she would wear them again for him some day.

Instead, he carefully pushed the delicate fabric aside, and buried two fingers deep inside her. Phryne cried out, and he felt her whole body respond, tightening around his fingers, shuddering with pleasure. He'd meant to draw it out a little longer, but her reaction robbed him of the last shred of control. Gripping her hips tightly, he aligned himself, and she felt so good, wet and hot and open for him.

"Phryne?" He held her gaze as he slowly lowered her down onto his cock, watching every one of her reactions with avid greed: the widening of her eyes as she took him in; the way her eyes clouded over with pleasure when he was fully settled inside her; the flutter of her eyelids as he pushed even deeper. And even then, he kept looking at her, kept watching her face as he started thrusting up into her heat, because she was so beautiful like this, so perfectly sensual and confident of her power over him.

She'd put on a different perfume, heavier and more sensual than the one she usually wore – perfectly in character – and the scent was making him dizzy, clouding his senses in a way that wasn't unpleasant. Burying his face between her breasts, he inhaled it deeply, feeling the last of his restraint drain away. Phryne was mewling softly, her nails dug deep into his shoulders, and he was dimly aware of the pain, but he didn't care. Nothing counted but her heat surrounding him, so snug, so slick, so perfect. Nothing mattered but the silkiness of her skin under his hands, the throbbing of her pulse, the beat of her heart.

It was perfect, all of it, and he didn't want it to end, ever, so he held on with a fierce determination, keeping it slow for as long as he possibly could. Only when he felt her unravel around him, only when she started to keen softly, did he finally let go, thrusting harder now, with no more attempt at refinement. They came together, clinging tightly to each other, their lips meeting in a long, deep kiss that drowned out their moans.

Afterwards, neither of them felt like moving. They remained like this, squeezed into the armchair together, even though it was crowded and not really comfortable. But Jack didn't care. His heart was still beating wildly, but Phryne was quiet for once, with a dreamy, far-away look in her eyes, and he relished the silence as they waited for the storm inside them to subside.

"Well, Miss Fisher?" When he finally shifted below her, flinching at the stickiness of his skin, she gave him a quizzical look. "What's your verdict then? Can I be held responsible for my actions?"

She laughed, then, that full, rich laugh that he adored so much. "Ah, Inspector. I'm not sure either of us is objective enough to judge that case. After all…" She leaned in to kiss him again, just a tender brush of her lips against his. "if I put you under a spell, then you definitely returned the favour this time. You may not realize it, but you're quite enthralling yourself."

And that, Jack thought to himself, was a verdict he could live with.

Huggles and thanks to my wonderful beta suilven.