A/N: I finally pulled myself together and wrote my first story. I'm a hardcore Hoffman/Jill shipper and I will forever hate the writers for not making this canon. I mean, the sexual tension between them was INSANE! Anyway, please enjoy and review. Also, English is not my first language, but I tried my best.

Another sleepless night.

Jill sat, emptying the glass of wine, leaned back in her chair and staring outside the window, into the night. The city was illuminated by street lights, cars drove somewhere in the concrete jungle. It was raining. She listened to the humming of the cars, the sound of raindrops hitting the window and enjoyed the solitude. Sometimes she saw people on the street, running to their cars or under a roof to save themselves from drenching in the rain. It was Friday, maybe they enjoyed the nightlife, careless, fun, without worries. Normal people. Normality wasn't available for Jill anymore. Not after what she had seen or done, but most importantly – what she had kept silent about. She didn't expect that it's all going to end after John's death. His legacy now belonged to her. To her and to an inhumane psychopath. John's hired muscle, an instrument, a thug with a badge.

Mark Hoffman. A man she hated, but respected. A man she couldn't understand. While working in the clinic, she had learned to read people. But Hoffman was like a closed book, hiding behind his armor of a cold stare and his trademark smirk. Was he insane? Maybe. If yes, he was masterfully hiding it. Hoffman was indifferent about his victims, he had never shown any emotion. His goal wasn't rehabilitating people, he treated the games like a job. He treated people with raw brutality, even his colleagues that he has worked with for more than 10 years. He was always so arrogant, acting like a chessmaster, removing people from life like pieces on the board. There was a certain air of invincibility around him, like he always controled every little thing, dominated the people around him. But maybe that was the truth?

Where he was now? Was he sitting in a bar, drinking whiskey, hitting on some woman to fuck her later in his car? Or maybe he battled with insomnia, drowned himself in thoughts about the past and the future, just like her. Jill doubted that. He had never shown any regret for his actions.

She emptied the glass of red wine completely and breathed deeply. Tonight that was the fifth one. This was a habit, slowly getting drunk during the night and letting thoughts crawl in her head like bugs. She reached for the bottle to fill her glass again.

The doorbell rang. It cut off all thoughts in her head. She snapped her head towards the door. It was 2 am, give or take. There was only one person who could ring her door at a time like this. A man who she never wanted near her.

For a moment she played with the thought of not answering the door and waiting until the bastard left. But she knew Mark Hoffman and his annoying skill to notice the smallest details – he probably saw the light in her window. Patience wasn't his virtue and pissing him off wasn't the smartest thing to do.

"Fuck." Jill whispered to herself and got up, putting the half-filled glass of wine on the table. Instead of opening the door, she silently went to her bedroom and took a small knife from a drawer next to her bed. Hoffman didn't have a reason to attack her, if he had wanted it, he wouldn't have rang her doorbell. He had thousands of options. Jill acknowledged that he was incredibly gifted in the art of causing pain to others. Hoffman had a temper, he was a walking timebomb. Around him you could never be confident about your safety.

She approached the door with slow steps, took a deep breath and opened the door, leaving the door chain on. Through the gap she looked into the blue, piercing eyes of Mark Hoffman. The staircase was dark and his eyes were the only thing she could see.

"What the hell do you want? It's 2 am." Jill spat out without trying to hide the loathing in her voice.

"Came to say hello. What, don't you want any company on a Friday night?" Hoffman said sarcastically. "What the fuck do you think? Business."

Jill felt the scent of alcohol in his breath. Maybe she should've closed the door, told him to go home and sleep it off. But no. She wasn't scared, she just couldn't say "no".

"You're waiting for the sunrise? Let me inside already." Patience really wasn't his virtue.

"Whatever. Like I have a choice." Jill closed the door, removed the chain and opened the door completely, took a few steps back and crossed her arms.

Hoffman entered the light of her apartment with heavy steps. Jill scanned him from head to toe. He looked like he hadn't slept for a few days. He was a bit wet from the rain and a few strands of his black hair fell over his forehead. Hoffman hadn't shaved and a rough stubble decorated his face. Looking like this, dressed all in black, he was the poster boy for renegade killers. Hoffman started to pull off his black coat.

Jill was confused. "Wait, wait. Tell me what you want and go home."

Hoffman didn't pause for a second and hanged his coat on a hanger. He turned to her and smirked. "Is this how colleagues treat each other?"

"If the colleague in question is a murdering bastard, then yes, that's how I treat them." Jill snapped back.

Hoffman let out a short laugh. "Can I get some coffee?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? You stride into my house in the middle of the night like if you own it and ask for coffee? Fuck you."

Hoffman cocked his head and took a few steps towards her. Jill took a few back automatically, ready to grab the knife. Hoffman didn't show any aggression. With an amused expression he came so close to her that their bodies almost touched.

"You know what…" he spoke in a husky voice "You have guts. Veterans in the precinct wouldn't dare to insult me, but you stand here, a little blonde who hasn't even killed anyone in her life and challenge me."

His voice dropped a tone lower.

"I like it."

Jill stared him down, opened her lips and took a deep breath.

Hoffman smirked. "Do you even know what to do with that knife? Do you want to hurt me?"

Jill couldn't think straight. He had completely surprised her. Their bodies had never been that close to each other. The man who stared her down with a predator's gaze was so deadly, so dangerous…so insanely sexy. He hadn't done anything yet, but this handsome murderer with every breath, every move and every word radiated immense sexuality. She realized that she didn't know what to do next. She had a massive urge to ram her tounge into his mouth and squeeze his crotch. She swallowed heavily.

Hoffman suddenly, out of nowhere, grabbed her hand which held the knife behind her back. Jill drew a surprised breath, but didn't break the silence. She stared at Hoffman with wide eyes. He was still wearing his permanent smirk and was practically devouring her with his gaze. She watched in rapt fascination how Mark slowly licked his upper lip. Jill was paralyzed because of his insane behaviour, the suspense, but most importantly, because of arousal.

Hoffman slowly, deliberately pressed the knife in Jill's trembling hands against his own throat.

"You want to hurt me?" he asked, "You want to draw blood? You know, there's no feeling like that in the world. Causing pain to others. It's fascinating. You feel triumph, power, control. You confirm that you're a wolf in this world."

He was like a maniac who just escaped from jail and met a random victim. She was scared, hateful and insanely aroused. Listening to him, Jill felt her center igniting. His words and actions went straight to her cunt. This animal, not a man, had awoken a sexual desire in her. Hoffman had become a person who she hated, but lusted for.

Hoffman pressed the blade harder and harder against his throat. He leaned in even closer. His breath was intoxicating – literally. She felt a mix of alcohol and tobacco.

"Cut. Just a little."

Jill widened her eyes. "You're fucking insane." But she didn't say it as a bad thing as people normally would. She said it as a compliment, just like if she complimented his rugged jawline. He had always seemed attractive to her, after all it was a normal reaction of a woman. Even though she loathed him, she couldn't deny that he was handsome. But, goddamnit, now he occupied her entire mind. Jill wanted to lick and bit every inch of his flesh.

Hoffman let out a throaty laugh. "Admit it – we're all a little insane."

Jill wanted to formulate a coherent sentence, but the he grabbed her throat with his left hand. Not that hard to cut off her air, but hard enough to show her what will happen if she doesn't obey.

"Don't tell me you don't want it, you lying bitch," Hoffman hissed, „Draw the fucking blade."

Jill didn't flinch from his words like anyone else would do. She had crossed the border of sanity. She started to enjoy this game. And, subconciously, she was enjoying the fact that he called her a bitch.

Jill pressed the blade a little harder and slowly, gradually she started to draw it along his neck. The cut wasn't nearly deep enough to seriously wound him, but it broke skin. Blood trickled down his neck.

Hoffman was silent the whole time and continued to devour her with his eyes.

"Motherfucker…" she thought, "…at least show a little pain, wipe that smirk off your face, stop being in control…"

She pressed the knife harder and Hoffman let out a sound. That wasn't a sound of pain, not even discomfort, that was a grunt of satisfaction.

Fucking hell, violence really does get him off.

Blood spilled on his shirt. He closed his eyes and let out a deep, satisfied laugh. He looked like she was jacking him off. Jill felt her juices flowing. A small part of her mind realized that she's wet while cutting someone's neck.

His fingers were still on her throat. She had never felt his hands on her skin. She wanted to feel them everywhere. She wanted him to be even more brutal. She craved to feel like his toy.

Hoffman snapped back to reality. With insane swiftness he pulled the knife from his neck, twisted her arm, turned Jill around and put his left arm around her throat. She couldn't even blink.

"Got carried away, didn't you, bitch?" His lips were an inch from her ear. "Did you enjoy it?"

Jill couldn't take it anymore. She wanted him, on the floor, against the wall, anywhere. She pressed herself against him. Their lower regions met and she felt the pressure of his growing erection.

She breathed: "Yes, I fucking did."

She could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "I knew it would turn you on. We're not so different, you and I. But now it's my turn."

Having said that, he disarmed her, tossed the knife out of her hand and brutally slammed her against the nearest wall. Jill gasped, she had the air knocked out of her lungs. Hoffman fully pressed himself against her. His left hand pressed her right one against the wall and his other hand were on her throat again. He watched her, observed her every breath, felt her quickened pulse against his fingers. He owned her now. She couldn't escape even if she wanted it. And she didn't. Not a chance. Now they won't turn back.

Hoffman panted, his breath fanning her face. He was animalistic and aroused, it looked like he was on the edge of losing his mind and any control over his actions.

"You know, I've always wanted to kidnap you." Hoffman rasped, voice full of lust. His eyes burned holes in her. "Chain you up to a bed. You'd be forced to obey me and I swear, you would enjoy every little thing I'd do to you."

Jill was drenching wet. Her sense of smell registered his cologne. Hoffman's raging hard-on was pressing her cunt. When she felt how huge it was, she lost all remnants of her control. Jill began writhing against his crotch. She hooked her leg behind his thigh.

He removed his hand from her throat and roughly grabbed her thigh. His brusing fingers dug into her flesh. His large hand moved to squeeze her ass. The detective let out an appreciative groan.

The first place where his lips met her skin was her neck. He brushed his lips against her soft skin like an animal, tasting his meal for the first time. Then he traced the same path with his tounge. Jill let out a long, loud gasp and grabbed the back of his neck, digging her fingernails in his flesh. Hoffman responded by sinking his teeth deep into her neck, drawing blood and tasting it. Jill groaned, enjoying every small action of brutality he inflicted upon her. She wanted him to be brutal, she wanted him to hurt her. Pleasure, pain, it was all the same now, the line between these two sensations had become a blurred mess.

Hoffman raised his head to her ear. Jill heard him swallow her own blood. Her life's essence was now inside of that monster. She loved how he took what he wanted from her. She was willing to give anything.

"You want my cock, don't you? You dirty whore." Hoffman rasped in her ear.

Jill couldn't form a coherent thought or a sentence. She wasn't sure if she was sane anymore. "Mark…" she gasped, dragging her fingernails down his neck, leaving trails of blood and running her tounge across his jawline.

Hoffman raised his eyes for her to see his smug expression. She had never used his first name. Ever.

"You will beg for it." Mark pressed his crotch against her and licked her face. "I want to fucking hear you beg." He ducked his head to her neck again to lick the wound he had made and to leave new bite marks.

Jill's hands went for his belt. Hoffman immediatly grabbed them and pinned them against the wall.

"That's not how this game is played, Jill." Hoffman said with a throaty chuckle. Even though he craved to be in control, he was mad with lust, seeing how badly Jill wants him. Their lips finally met, with plain brutal force. Hoffman's tongue instantly entered Jill's mouth, battling for dominance. He tangled his fist in her hair while she dug her fingers into his shoulder muscles and then in his hair. Jill sucked on his tounge, letting out small moans that sent him over the edge. He grabbed into the collar of her blouse and ripped it open with rough jerks, scattering the buttons across the room. Jill helped him drop the suit jacket he was still wearing and desperately ripped open his shirt, ignoring the shoulder holster and raked her nails over his pectorial muscles.

Mark skillfully unhooked her bra with one hand, looked down onto her cleavage and smiled devilishly before burying his face in her breasts. Jill moaned as he savagely licked and bit them. She squirmed and dug her nails into his back when he bit into a nipple, drawing blood.

Jill tangled her fingers in his black hair, pressing his face against her breasts as he intensely sucked on one nipple. "Mmm…Mark…fuck…"

Between appreciative groans Mark moved from one nipple to another and Jill grabbed his crotch, stroking it with the palm of her hand. He was already hard as a rock and she let out a groan of need. She wanted him to fuck her and she wanted it now. Mark raised his head from her breasts and licked his way up to her ear.

"Beg for it, Jill," he whispered in a raspy voice, "Beg for it like the whore you are."

In that situation, with that tone of voice, he could make her do anything.

"Please, Mark...I want you to fuck me, please…" Jill moaned out.

Hoffman gave her a wolfish smirk. He opened his belt buckle and tossed it on the ground while sucking on Jill's neck. She pulled down her pants and tried to peel off her black panties, but Hoffman roughly ripped them off and tossed them behind her.

Jill felt an unbelievable rush. She didn't care what he did to her anymore, as long as he got inside of her in the process. The man who she despised and would do anything to see him dead. Now she would do anything for his fucking cock. The sexual tension could've set the apartment on fire.

His pants were around his knees now and he lifted her with zero effort. She felt the pressure of his cock against her bare cunt and let out incomprehensible whimpers of need.

"You're a bitch, but now you're my bitch and you'll love every second of it." Mark snarled before roughly entering her.

Jill let out a loud moan and bit deeply into his shoulder. Hoffman thrusted deep and hard, hitting her against the wall so hard that bruises were a given, if not broken ribs. Jill let out moans and cries, her senses were overwhelmed and she mindlessly scratched and clawed every inch of him, trying to claim him as her own. Mark didn't feel any pain from her attacks on his body, he kept groaning and uttering curses in her ear.

"I wanted to do this for a long fucking time," he snarled like an animal "I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk after this."

Hoffman wasn't kidding. He drove into her with raging force, expressing all his frustration and lust for her. He was really rough, but Jill wouldn't have it any other way. Mark wanted to hurt her, but she enjoyed it.

He wouldn't walk away without battle scars either.

"Don't you…dare stop…fucking kill you…" Jill managed to whimper between her moans and cries. "Mark…"

The sound of her saying his name always got to him. He fucked her even harder and harder. They continued like this, assaulting each other's body, crazed by the lust for a person they hate.

"Mark, I'm going to…fuck yes, harder, MARK!" Jill was near her peak. Hoffman felt his climax approaching too and let out a primitive growl. Jill's cries became louder and louder and finally she reached the release she was striving for. She tightened her legs around him like a vice and let out loud screams and moans of his name.

Hoffman followed instantly, shooting his load up her, grunting animalistic noises and practically chewing on her neck. After moments, their their orgasms were subsiding. Both were trembling, Hoffman's face pressed against her neck and Jill desperately still clawing at his back and pulling him closer. Nobody wanted to let go. The sound of their heavy breathing filled the room. They stayed like that for some time, Hoffman pressing Jill against the wall and her legs wrapped around his waist.

"Fuck…" Hoffman groaned out against her ear. They slowly slipped down the wall and to the floor, still not releasing each other. Both sweating and breathing like they just ran a marathon, they slumped on the floor, Mark on Jill. He finally withdraw and rolled next to her, pulling up his pants.

"Fucking hell, Detective. You're an animal." Jill, not even nearly recovered, groaned out.

"I know. I heard." Hoffman smirked, arrogance always in place.

"Cigarette. God, I need a cigarete." Jill was starting to feel the bruises. She noted to herself that she soon would need aspirin as well.

Hoffman groaned as he reached for his suit jacket which was tossed on the floor and pulled out a pack of Malboros out of the pocket. He pulled out two cigarettes, put one in his mouth and offered one to her. Then he pulled out Zippo lighters from a pocket in his pants and light up the cigarettes for her and for himself.

They laid there for a while, enjoying the silence and their cigs. Jill was the first one to break the silence.

"You're a fucking asshole." She said, still tired and sweaty.

Hoffman took a deep drag off his cigarette. "Damn, he looks good smoking." Jill thought to herself, feeling the rush of lust again.

"I'm not going to say I'm not, but don't you dare deny that I just gave you the best fuck of your life." Mark smirked at her, cigarette between his teeth.

Jill couldn't help but smirk back at him. "Finally found a use for you. Still can't believe it. But just so you know, this changes nothing. I still fucking hate you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Don't worry your pretty bitch head over my emotions."

"Call me a bitch again and I'll toss you out." Jill snapped back in an amused tone.

"I thought you liked it. And is that an implication that I might stay if I come up with another nickname for you?"

Jill blew out smoke and looked him over. His hair was ruffled, sweat was dripping from his face, his neck and chest was covered in blood and his shirt was still open, exposing his powerfully built torso. His muscles were heaving and covered in sweat. Jill fought the urge to jump him.

"I like it only in certain conditions. As for the situation we're in, I have an idea. I'm going to fix myself a drink. Meanwhile, you can decide whether to stay or leave. Just remember that if you want to stay, you need to come up with something to occupy me." She winked at him and got up, still completely naked, practically feeling Hoffman's stare on her ass.

Mark put out his cigarette against the floor and reached for his jacket. He pulled out a pair of handcuffs, devilishly smiled, got up and followed her.