Julian had once thought that the most magnificent view in the world was the one from the LA Institute's rooftop at sunset. He had thought there was no view quite like the red-gold sunshine melting onto the sea's rippling surface, when the pinks and golds and oranges were so bright, it was like the air itself shimmered with the warm colors. He had thought that the curling waves, rippling glass and froth, crashing onto the sand completed the most beautiful picture in the world.

He had been utterly, stupidly, so fucking wrong.

Because the view he had now was more breathtaking than any he had seen before, and he knew any view that came after would hardly compare.

He was on his back in Emma's room, naked, his hands tightly fisted in her sheets, his eyes half-lidded, and his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Emma was sitting astride his hips, and he was looking up at her, thinking that there was nothing more beautiful. Her eyes were closed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She was wearing just a thin white tank top that did little to hide the swell of her breasts and the hard peaks of her nipples. Her hair was a cloud of gold around her face, strands of it sticking to her sweat-glistened skin.

With every roll of her hips, her muscles rippled and undulated. She had her head thrown back, and the lines of her curved neck, her collarbone, her chin, were sharp; if he hadn't been so out of his mind with pleasure, Julian would have imagined the strong strokes of his brush that could create such a dichotomy of angles and softness.

But painting and art and life and everything that wasn't Emma was so far out of his mind, because all he could think about was how it felt to be buried to the hilt inside of her, her knees gripping and releasing his hips with the rhythm of her movement, her hands on his thighs behind her, supporting herself as she leaned back slightly.

She was exquisite.

As she picked up the pace, her chest heaving with pleasure and exertion, soft moans escaping from her lips that sounded like his name, he gripped the sheets even tighter. He was certain they would be torn to shreds by the end.

It was such a new sensation, the rocking of her body around him, tightening and loosening, rolling right to left and all around. He felt like he was about to burst at the seams.

"Julian." She rocked forward, hands splayed against his chest as she began lifting and dropping her hips over him, finally giving in and quickening the pace. He knew he was making noise, but could barely hear himself over the rush of blood in his ears, Emma gasping his name, and the sound of skin against skin. He felt the sheet tear in his fists, ripping apart the way he felt he was about to.

He felt a deep pressure building in his abdomen and throbbing inside her; he had to speak, had to tell her-

"Emma," his voice was strained and desperate as the pressure built and built and she was moving faster on top of him, leaning over so her hot breath was on his neck, and he finally had to close his eyes, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

She let out a strangled cry just as the pressure finally gave way, and he felt hollowed out and filled to bursting all at the same time. An intense pleasure rolled through his body, and it felt like it was electrifying his skin. Her body was pulsing around him where they were still connected, and she drooped against him, her chest pressing into his, her hair tickling his face.

After a moment, she rolled off him and he pulled her into his side, both of their breathing beginning to normalize, their skin sticky with sweat.

"That was…" Emma trailed off.

"Yeah." He was surprised he had a voice after that, or enough coherent thought to speak a word.

"Let's do it again."

"I need a minute." He chuckled, "Or ten."

"I liked that one." Emma said, trailing her fingers through the dips of his abdomen.

"I liked most of it." Julian answered, feeling his muscles twitch under her fingers with a pleasure that shot straight to his groin. He was flexing his hands, sore from being clenched into fists, "The 'no touching you' rule was pretty brutal."

"Yeah, I like it when you touch me." She answered, making another shot of pleasure go through him. If she kept touching him and saying things like that, he wouldn't need much longer before their next round.

Another misconception that Julian had had before was that sex with Emma could not possibly be any more pleasurable, because he had thought they had discovered the peak of pleasure.

Once again, he had been sorely mistaken.

Ever since their bond had been burned away, they hadn't spent a night apart, and had even made a game out of it. Julian had been hesitant at first, because there were enough rules in life, and he sure as hell didn't want any more rules telling him how to be with Emma, especially in bed.

But, with her persistence, his whole world had been opened to new sensations and positions, taking him places he never knew existed. As he clenched and unclenched his sore fists, though, he knew that would be the first and last "no touching" rule they used.

Emma's tickling fingers started creeping lower and lower, twirling in the hair of his happy trail, making Julian's breath come in a little quicker.

"Emma," he whispered, his eyes closing at the sensation.

"Yes?" he could tell she was smiling by the sound of her voice.

Her hand closed around him, her grip light, her little finger teasing the sensitive skin at his base.

"Fuck," he pressed his hips up automatically, seeking more of her touch.

She crawled on top of him again. He heard the rustle of fabric and opened his eyes just in time to see her tossing her top to the ground with the rest of their clothes. He swallowed at the sight of her completely naked. No matter how many times he had seen her like this, it still made his heart skip.

He grabbed her hips and flipped them over, eliciting a yelp of surprise. He let his weight fall partially on her, their bellies together, his chest pressing into hers with every breath.

"My turn to be on top." He grinned and her lips parted, her eyes wide with anticipation. He lifted himself up enough to reach down and guide himself back inside her.

She hissed in a breath and he stopped, looking into her face.

"I'm fine, keep going."

That was all the invitation he needed. He pressed hard and fast into her, gripping her shoulders, her sides, her breasts, her hair, any part of Emma that he could reach.

She locked her ankles behind his back, meeting his every thrust with her hips, and he groaned into her neck. She scratched her nails down his back and he relished the pleasurable pain, wanting her to mark him as her own.

He didn't last as long as he had the time before, and he used deft fingers to finish Emma, whose writhing pleasure under his touch almost made him hard again.

He flopped back down at her side, and she pulled the sheet up over them, crossing an arm across his chest as she pressed into his side.

They laid like that for several minutes, coming back down from their high. Julian felt complete bliss. The light coming in through the window was much dimmer than when they had first begun the afternoon activities, which they had originally planned to just be a quickie before dinner.

Oh well, Julian thought. He cooked for the family quite a bit, let them get takeout for once.

"What are you thinking?" Emma asked, her hand resting lightly over his chest where his heart beat.

The room smelled like sweat and sex, they hadn't eaten since their early lunch, and he knew it would be naïve to think that none of the others had heard them. But he couldn't remember a time he was more content.

Instead of telling her all that, though, he answered "You need new sheets."

A/N: If you've got a spare moment, please review and let me know what you thought!