You remember what I once said about sex and strong emotions? Yes- I use A to express B. And the stronger the feelings….precisely.

That means: if you're squeamish about sex scenes…I wouldn't go on reading.

The rest of you: enjoy! The sex scene (the big clash that cleans the air in a giant explosion) was the first part I wrote for this story, everything else was like a journey to this very spot.

I could almost understand Jane in chapter 4: that he tried to negate his feelings this last time, tried to regain his composure- unfortunately, I absolutely can't let him. Too bad.

Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews!

Memory Palace

Chapter 5

For a second, Lisbon felt everything inside her crumble. The world blurred at the edges, the dim lights of her hallway fading. But Teresa Lisbon wouldn't break. No matter what fate dished out- she could take it. She'd been through worse. She could live without a heart if she had to.

She straightened her spine and looked him straight in the eyes.

How beautiful he was. How much she loved him.

Didn't matter any longer. She could pick up the pieces of her soul in a minute.

"You're right," she said calmly "I should have prevented it. You weren't yourself. It would have been my job to stop you. I apologize, Jane. I'm sorry for piling up more debris in your life. You certainly didn't need that."

Her tongue tasted like lead. She wasn't sure how long her legs would keep her upright. So she started walking backwards to the stairs.

"I'll go to bed now," she whispered, swallowing the little tremble that would claim her whole body in a second, but she held her chin high "goodnight, Jane. Please close the door behind you when you leave."

He watched her turn around. Watched her walk up the stairs, away from him. One step, another. She moved so gracefully, so fluently, when her despair radiated from her in sickening waves. And something inside Jane just snapped.

He slammed the door shut before he raced up towards her and tackled her from behind, crushing her body against the stairs. His fingers tightened on her narrow ribcage, bones far too palpable beneath her skin- she obviously hadn't eaten for a while.

He pulled her up on all fours and simply ripped her clothes off, his inner torment lending him frightening strength, fabric tearing beneath his relentless hands, shirt, pants, underwear. Lisbon kneeling naked in a pile of torn garments, unable to stop him. Getting wet for him, arousal running through her body like an electric current.

Jane kicked her knees apart with his own and slid his fingers through her wetness while he opened his fly with his free hand.

He was hard, so unbelievably hard, his cock felt almost alien to his own touch. He freed it from the confinement of his pants, gliding his hand up and down its length for a moment, feeling the pulsating vein, urging him to take her, re-claim her. Sweat broke out on his face, his back, his skin feeling as tight as a junkie's. He watched her resting her head on her arms, elevated by the stairs. She braced herself.

"Dammit, Lisbon" he whispered "I can't stop. I'll never be able to stop. "

And he sheathed himself inside her to the hilt. One single thrust, so deep she could almost taste him.

God, he was huge. So huge she almost couldn't take him for a moment, her hips bucking against his, her walls burning around his hard flesh.

But yes- she welcomed the slight pain, almost wanted to tear. Tear like her clothes had. She pushed back against him, until his hips pushed against her thighs.

He groaned, his sweat dripping on her skin, and started to thrust. So hard Lisbon saw stars. Jane leant forward, his chest against her back, marking her neck with his teeth. She felt the smooth fabric of his vest, the buttons rubbing against her skin. His breathing was harsh, panting. The hot whiffs of air searing her skin.

His cock pumped inside her sensitive sheath, its width fraying tender nerves until her whole body felt aflame, his hips slamming against her buttocks, his hands clenching on her waist. She could feel the bruises forming beneath her skin, and couldn't care less.

"Harder, Patrick" she pressed out between gritted teeth "don't hold back, please- let go for me. Let go now."

He groaned and picked up speed, pounding into her full force, the sensations so strong he almost passed out. He'd been harboring this insane desire for years now, he couldn't go on. He'd opened Pandora's box and had to bear the consequences. Allow another man to touch what was his, to bring Lisbon the satisfaction he denied her? Never.

He felt his cock harden even more and rammed it into her, holding her close while he used all his strength to take her, slamming in and out so hard he all but pounded her into the stairs.

Lisbon pushed back against him, urging him on, angling her hips so she could take more of him, could feel the impact of his movements in every cell. She felt the tension coiling in the pit of her stomach, tighter, tighter, her hands groping to find something to hold on, fingers clutching the edge of the step in front of her, breathing, panting, Jane straightening behind her, his hands merciless, relentless on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh. Her lower body burning, blazing, his cock so hard, huge, full, yes, she needed it, needed him to spend, hard thrusts, again, again, her breasts rubbing against the stairs every time he slammed into her, and suddenly the tension deep inside her snapped, every nerve ending exploding into a ball of flames.

Lisbon screamed, screamed until her throat was sore, her walls clenching on his burning rod until the contractions felt sweetly painful, and he was still thrusting, thrusting into her climaxing body, prolonging the sensation until she felt on the brink of sanity.

Jane gasped hoarsely, lengthening and widening inside her, his balls drawing tight against his body, and Lisbon could feel the exact moment he started to shoot his load. Strong, hot jets of semen erupted into her clutching sheath, he couldn't stop to come, more and more seed spurting inside her, and still his hips moved, making the milky liquid seep out of her, running down her legs, covering her skin. The sheer sensation of it triggered another orgasm, he felt the convulsion of her strong muscles around him and cried out in ecstasy. He spent until he felt completely drained, spent until his essence pooled around her knees, adding more when he pulled out of her, the friction of her tight walls so intense that he released the last squirt of seed against her thighs with a shudder. Damn, he'd made a mess.

His clothes were sticking to his skin, drenched in sweat and seed and tears, and his lips trembled so hard he knew he wouldn't be able to speak for a while.

Lisbon turned until she came to rest into a half-sitting position. Her ponytail was a tousled and mussed, her hair a soft dark cloud around her head, her face was wet- she had cried, too. She had bitten down on her lip until she'd drawn blood, he could see the red smear against her chin.

He needed to devour those lips, but he couldn't move. Every breath burned in his lungs.

Lisbon reached down to her thighs, her eyes glassy, her expression reverent. Oblivious. She spread his seed over her skin, sliding her fingers through the balmy liquid. She played with his juices for a while before she looked at him.

His light green eyes were huge in his pale face, a touch of panic in their depths. His glorious blond curls disheveled and wild. His lips trembling, rosy sweet. She needed his lips swollen from her kisses. But even more she needed him to come again.

"More" she whispered and saw him swallow.

He hardened immediately.

"Bedroom." He croaked and she stood on wobbly legs, moving to lead the way, leaving her torn clothes on the stairs.

Jane followed her, undressing on the way, heedlessly tossing his clothes on the floor.

He was naked when he reached her bedroom, Lisbon already spread out on the bed, ready for his taking, and he sank down on her small frame, covering her, his hips pushing between her legs, his own seed wetting his skin. He threw his head back and whispered her name in awe.

"Teresa." Mine.

He pressed his lips on hers, his erection nudging against her wet flesh, so hard again it ached for her.

His tongue slipped into her mouth, the kiss fevered, urgent, desperate.

"I'm evil, Lisbon," he whispered against her lips, his tears dripping onto her face "I got my family killed- I got them killed. I will taint you. Nothing good can come out of this love. I'm not allowed to love again. So why do I dare to feel this way? Why can't I stop?"

She kissed him more, knowing words would never be enough to extinct his feelings of guilt and shame.

"I could get you pregnant with this seed you want so much, Teresa" he breathed, his voice so small, torn, lost "I could bring disaster to your life. I could render you prey for a serial killer I can't find, can't stop. A killer who's watching my every move. So why can't I stop?"

"I love you, Patrick Jane" she sighed into his kiss, and he whimpered as if in pain "you're not alone. And if you would just turn your back on me, I'd turn into emptiness…already dead inside. I love you."

"Don't say that," he sobbed "don't, please."

"It's the truth. You know it."

She pushed her hips against his softening cock and it sprang back to life, growing hard and erect just for her, getting even harder when she touched it with her small, soft fingers.

"Don't stop," she whispered.

"I won't" he answered between kisses "I can't."

And he pushed inside her, stretching her to the point of pain, filling her, not stopping until he was so deep she felt owned, possessed. His for all times.

She stroked his back and found his skin so sensitive he gasped, his cock jerking inside her.

He buried his face against her neck, his breath hot and moist, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin. Lisbon felt like a single, giant vibration, the hum of arousal drowning the world all around her, reducing her senses to the feel of his body, skin, lips.

Jane moved slower this time, taking her in long, deep strokes, flesh against flesh, the friction enormous, delicious, mind-blowing. She felt the controlled power in the tension of his backside and barely resisted the urge to dig her fingers into him, anchoring him to her, stopping him from changing his mind.

But he was silent and continued to thrust slow and deep, their combined harsh breathing the only sound she heard.

His hands framed her face, his lips descending on hers, and he breathed into her, his movements getting faster. He finally pushed up on his arms, and her bed started to creak under the force of his thrusts.

Her whole body trembled with relief. That was exactly how she needed him. She met his hard strokes one by one, their hips clashing, and she needed more, more hardness, more friction, more pain, more him…

The bed's headrest thudded against the wall every time he made impact, and she just thought: yes, break it, destroy it, just DON'T STOP!

He didn't stop, his sweat dripping onto her face, and he was so huge and hot deep inside her that her heart almost stopped for a moment, and she came from unbearable, painful ecstasy to the complete implosion of her insides in mere seconds. Her orgasm hit her so hard she almost passed out with the sheer force of it, and she heard him scream, come, spilling his seed into her like a volcano's eruption. She lifted her hips, desperate to deepen the connection even if that seemed impossible. She didn't care for impossible, she could move mountains tonight. Jane clutched her to him, still trembling from the aftershocks.

"I love you" he breathed "One day, I will burn in hell. But I love you."

She shuddered deeply, softly biting into his earlobe to relieve some of the tension. She'd never felt something like this before, it took her breath away. But for once, she didn't feel small when a situation went out of control. She felt stronger.

He kissed her throat, putting his face against her shoulder before he rolled to his side, relieving her of his weight. She felt it like a loss.

But she could sense his utter exhaustion, he was spent, drained, his breathing still labored and erratic.

"Please," Jane gasped "I'm not a cold-hearted idiot, I…I just didn't sleep much in the last few days, so I'm bone-tired- forgive me if I just fall asleep, Teresa, yes? And no matter what you do- don't let me wake up and find you gone, please."

"This is my apartment, Jane," Lisbon chuckled softly, but he was already fast asleep, his head deliciously heavy on her shoulder.

xxMentalistxx

They drank their morning beverages (tea for him, coffee for her) at Riverside Park, sitting on a bench, watching some stray joggers run through the frozen scenery.

Jane wore his overcoat. Black, sexy overcoat.

He noticed with a smile that she was constantly fumbling with his lapels or his collar. Unobtrusively touching him. If they had stayed at her house, they would still be in bed, doing unspeakable things to each other. The urge to touch was like an addiction, the fear to lose what had been hard-won driving them insane. Both had known that they had to get out of there fast if they wanted to accomplish anything mildly resembling work today. If they wanted to get back to anything feeling like everyday life.

Jane lifted his hand and pushed some strands of dark hair behind her ear. He felt so much tenderness. So much it almost blanked out the guilt for a while.

He would always feel that guilt. But there wasn't a law that said he couldn't feel something else, too.

"Let's catch some killers." He said softly.

He didn't want to get back to work. He would have loved to stay right here infinitely, her little fingers straightening his clothes, blissful silence engulfing them in a cloak of oblivion. But they needed a little normalcy after the torrent of the past days.

His memory was back. They were both here. Together. And that wouldn't change. They'd pushed through. Barely, but they had. They would work things out, solve problems when they came up. For once, he was content not too think too hard. The closeness felt surprisingly good.

And he still could read her thoughts in her beautiful green eyes. Could see that she truly didn't expect him to be her knight in shining armor. Her sweet acceptance of what he was made him so warm inside he had to fight the urge to curl into her arms, a happy little animal warmed by her embrace.

"You need a scarf," she whispered, her fingers brushing over his open collar.

He snorted.

"I'll wear one if you knit it yourself."

"I'm talent-free when it comes to needlework, Jane." She replied, her smile sweet and warm, making a giddy sense of perfection bloom in the pit of his stomach. Butterflies flapping their tiny wings.

"I know," he said "that's what I was counting on."

He was silent for a moment, watching the ice blue river running in front of them.

"Tell me you'll spend Christmas alone." He said eventually.

"I'll spend Christmas alone, Jane." She answered dutifully.

"That's good," he smiled, "what if we travel north? I'm in the mood for insane amounts of snow. In fact, I would like to get snowed in. You game?"

He wanted to forget the world for a while. Get used to this strange thing between them without any distraction.

"Absolutely." She smiled.

He dumped his empty paper cup in the waste bin and kissed her lips, his cold hands brushing her cheeks.

"About those killers?" she whispered "Let's catch them."

"Let's indeed." He said with a sigh and got up. She followed suit.

They walked through the empty park to their cars, and when he finally, carefully took her hand in his, it felt almost…natural.

They'd come a long way.

The End

Thank you so much for sticking with this story, I hope I didn't disappoint, and I'm sure I'll see you soon!