In case you missed the rating at the top, this is an M RATED FIC. Please do not read if it ain't your thing. For the rest of you, enjoy this Valentine's Day treat.

To Harry, the day had dragged on interminably. It might have been the summer heat, the end of the week or simply the fact that work was slow, but he hadn't managed to keep his eyes off her all day. Truthfully, she wasn't any more or less beguiling than usual. But as she threw her head back in laughter at something Tariq had said, he knew that he wanted her. Right then.

To Ruth, Fridays were often unbearably long since she and Harry had started spending time together intimately. There was something in their unspoken promise of the weekend hours to follow that drove her mad with excitement. To be fair, she and Harry still managed to spend several precious Saturday hours on the Grid, but they were almost always preceded by a lazy evening late Friday, and the frantic coupling with which they greeted Saturday morning. At the thought, she looked sharply in his direction and drew her breath at his wanton gaze. Her smile slowly spread to her eyes, as she craved his touch, and clutched her folder more tightly to suppress the physical need arresting her body.

Unfortunately, although work was slow, the onslaught of paperwork that precipitated the weekend meant that Ruth left alone that evening around seven. But not before the following email had arrived in her inbox:

"Go home immediately. The sooner you go, the sooner I can concentrate, finish all this and meet you there. I can't focus on anything with you here. Your presence is too damn intoxicating."

She had looked him directly in the eye from across the Grid, leaving him in no doubt of her intentions. Her acquiescence was a given, and she gathered her things and left silently, leaving a frustrated Section Head to his paperwork and impure thoughts.

******************

She had arrived home and gone through the motions of a hastily prepared salad and a quick skim of the week's foreign papers that she hadn't had time to read. Her body slick with sweat and her mind brimming with sordid images, she headed upstairs for a shower, tossing her clothes carelessly across the bedroom floor. A trail of evidence that told of her need for him, which he was to find after silently letting himself in.

It had become a teasing, private joke at some point early on after they had become physically intimate. No keys were exchanged, but late one night after Ruth had left her keys at work and they stood outside her door, Harry had picked her door's lock quickly and with ease. Horrified, she had told him carelessly to do the same any time he wished. It was an invitation he had gladly taken on several occasions and when his tap at her door had gone unanswered, he let himself in.

He was not so crude as to remove his shoes and socks or lie on her bed (much as he might have wanted to); he did not wish to frighten her or presume a familiarity he was not sure they had found as yet. Instead he waited downstairs after hearing the sound of the shower. He switched on the stereo and fiddled for a few moments, trying to find something suitable.

Ruth had relaxed under the lukewarm spray of the shower head, her muscles slowly draining of tension. But still the need remained and she was almost mad with lust at the thought that surely he was on his way soon, at that moment imagining what she might feel like under his hands....

Still damp, she wrapped her largest towel around her, the ends of her hair wet despite her best efforts. Ruth crossed the bedroom but stopped at the sounds from downstairs. Then she rolled her eyes and opened the door, calling for her intruder to join her.

"Harry, get up here."

She met him at the top of the stairs where he audibly gulped at the sight of her wrapped in a towel and she noted with pleasure that he had at least removed his tie. Harry loved Ruth always, but especially like this: playful, relaxed, seductive. He could feel his body responding and followed her wordlessly as she smiled and walked back into the bedroom.

"It must have been horribly important work to postpone this!" she said softly, lying back on the bed.

Harry sighed, kicked off his shoes and dragged off his socks in quick succession. "Important, no. Urgent, yes. Dalby never will learn to tell the difference."

He approached her, his greedy gaze absorbing her every curve with hunger. She was leaned back on her elbows, her legs crossed at the ankles and she restrained herself with great difficulty, wanting him to touch her first. Harry ran his hands lightly over her bare shoulders and bent to whisper in her ear.

"You are so desirable, Ruth. All day......."

She cut him off she sat up and the towel split slightly across her legs, revealing her creamy thighs. He groaned and she laughed gently as she reached for his shirt buttons.

"All day?" she prompted him, swiftly divesting him of his shirt. His vest followed, tugged overhead by the impatient Section Head in his quest to touch the woman he so desired. He cupped her face in one hand as he tugged at his belt with the other.

"All day," he breathed, "I wanted to be doing this. Touching you."

His hand ran from her face down her neckline, Ruth trembling slightly at his touch. He paused at the top of the towel, then pulled it free with both hands as she rocked forwards onto her knees to unzip his trousers, feeling for the erection she knew awaited her. She pulled them downwards with his briefs, Harry quickly finishing the job so that they were naked together in the fading summer light.

Ruth bent her head, unexpectedly taking him fully in her mouth. Her full, reddish lips savoured his hardness as he moaned in satisfaction. His fingers threaded through her hair, his hips bucking unconsciously as she sucked his length completely, her tongue circling its head. Ruth whimpered as his hands found her breasts and coaxed her nipples into stiff buds of promise. She grabbed his arse firmly, drawing him into her as his hands ran up and down the length of her body and he panted, seeking release as she sucked harder and faster, humming with pleasure at his response. She was seized by a desire to see his pleasure and looked him suddenly in the eye, wanting him to see how much she wanted him in the moment. With a shout he came, trying not to thrust into her mouth as she swallowed him cleanly, and she pulled her gasping lover onto the bed. While he caught his breath, Ruth slid backwards on the bed and sipped the water already poured on her nightstand, smiling at him over the glass.

"I didn't expect you to surrender so quickly!" she said winsomely, returning the glass to its rightful place. She flicked the lamp on, her legs splaying slightly so that Harry's view of her was uninhibited. He crawled onto the bed eagerly before she had even turned back from the lamp.

"I'm up to another challenge," he whispered, "as long as you are, Ruth."

She loved the way he said her name so lovingly, so fully; it was as though she had never heard it said properly before. At moments like these, he owned her name as surely as he had her. Ruth unconsciously stroked her wetness in anticipation, creaming helplessly as Harry bent his head and nibbled her left breast. He flicked a thumb rhythmically over that most sensitive bud, biting gently on her nipple. Ruth gasped his name and clasped his head with the hand which had so recently touched her welcoming warmth. It was still wet and thre musky fragrance made him newly hard and ready. She reached for him, arching her back as his lust fevered eyes met hers and he grabbed her wrist. She spoke.

"I want you inside me, Harry."

He rubbed his the tip of his hardness against her opening, obscenely stiff, while she feverishly stroked every inch of him she could reach, wanting to possess all of him in that moment. "Harry," she said again, "please. Don't tease me."

"Oh but - you're such - a good - target, Ruth." He stroked himself against her more firmly for emphasis, but she reached out for him and coaxed him steadily inside her.

He was unhurried but earnest, thrusting deeply as she raised her hips to meet him, tightening around his length. He groaned as she fondled her breasts seductively and kissed her passionately, melding his body to hers.

It was both urgent and important, this joining of their bodies. For so long, their connection had been intimate but so intellectual. Their initial awkwardness in approaching the physical side of their relationship had at times been overwhelming, but their chemistry had not deceived them. Too often the world outside claimed them from each other. They had both sacrificed so much in the name of their work, given everything they had. But when they came together in love, in those moments they belonged only to each other. They were Harry and Ruth, and for at least a short time, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

They rocked together towards climax, Ruth holding his shoulders, her legs wrapped firmly around his torso. Harry came first, shuddering as he spilled over into her and Ruth moaned a moment later as, with a final thrust, he collapsed on top of her, mumbling words of love. They rolled over, and as her breathing returned to normal she kissed him briefly, stood and started to pick up her clothes.

Harry reached out to her. "Please." He seized her wrist and pulled her back so that she straddled him. "Don't go."

Against her will, her eyes glistened with tears. It recalled too vividly that day by the Thames when she sailed away after begging him to let her go, to save him. Ruth held his face similarly to how she had that awful morning, and kissed him with equal passion. Harry met her kiss with fervour, his committment on his lips as he held her close.

"It's still hard to believe you're here sometimes."

He said it so quietly they could both have pretended it wasn't said at all. But she chose not to, simply because it echoed her own fears. She kept her legs wrapped around him firmly, and nestled closely to his chest. Harry squeezed her back, filled with pride that she was in his arms. It still floored him that this chance had come good so far - he was determined to enjoy every minute they could share.

She eventually rolled them over, and leaned on her elbow as she regarded him, her love plainly written on her face. She entwined her hand in his, the simple gesture that never lost its ability to say 'I love you'.

"We have a weekend to fill," she said and smiled into his answering kiss, which he broke after a few moments to rejoin:

"I'm not sure one weekend is enough, Ruth."

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