So I wasn't actually planning to write this week. I was planning to take a lovely weekend to do absolutely nothing but catch up on TV and sleep. But then something just hit (I blame you Miss LetItReign) and I couldn't stop myself. And for once, it's an early update on a Sunday (hell, it's only just after 9am in the UK).

I don't like to say that I have favourites, but there is just something about Dean and Becca. I'm not ashamed to admit that I got a little emotional writing this. Is that strange? I dunno. I just love writing about them, watching them grow on the page and I'm always thinking ahead as to what my plans are with them in the future. I feel that way with the other two couples as well, but Dean/Becca just have something special about them that, even as their author, I can't quite put my finger on.

As always, thank you for all the love you endlessly give me. You guys are the best - sorry, I haven't been replying to individual reviews lately but I appreciate every single one.

WARNING: The usual.

DISCLAIMER: The usual.

Enjoy x

Wisemen say only fools rush in

"This is Becca. I can't answer the phone right now, so leave a message and I'll get back to you."

"FUCK!" I hit the end call button and hurl the phone at the couch.

Scraping a hand over my face, I stare out of the window. Rain relentlessly pounds the glass. The trees outside my apartment block are threatening to snap in half from the wind. The road is deserted, awash with a river of water and in the distance, thunder rumbles ominously. I curse again as the sky lights up, a fork of lightning freezing in the sky.

I turn back to the couch. My hands shake uncontrollably as I pick up my phone and dial once again.

"This is Becca..."

This time, I don't even let it finish. I sink onto the couch, breathing deeply as I lean back and close my eyes.

I should have tried harder.

My phone starts to ring just as I step out of the shower. Water drips on the floor as I wrap the towel around my waist and head back out into the bedroom. My lips automatically pull into a wide grin as I see Becca's name on the screen.

"You have excellent timing as always."

"You're a bad man, Ambrose. Can't leave a girl hanging like that," she purrs back at me and I chuckle.

"I could never leave you hanging, darlin'. You gotta know that by now."

"I still think I need to test that theory."

"Test all you want, babe. I ain't gonna stop you," I smirk as I lay back on the bed. "So, you're back at the hotel early."

"Actually that's what I was calling about. The meetings this afternoon got cancelled, so I was going to pack up and head home now rather than tomorrow."

"You sure that's a good idea? I mean, you've been non-stop for the last few days."

"I'd rather just get the drive over with. It's only four hours. If I leave soon, I'll be at your place by seven."

In the background, I can hear her moving around her hotel room. Her voice echoes as she walks into the bathroom, the gentle clatter of her various lotions and potions being hurriedly packed away.

"What's the rush?"

"Dean, I've been in this hotel for five days. I miss my own bed. I miss your bed. I miss you."

"Good to know where I rank," I grin up at the ceiling. "But I still don't get what the rush is."

"There's nothing for me to do here. Why be here doing nothing, when I can be home and do you instead?"

She has a point. "You know I'm all for that, darlin'..."

"Plus if I wait till tomorrow, we'll only have half a day and-" she pauses. "I just wanna see you properly before you leave again. That a crime?"

"Hell no." She knows damn well how badly I want to see her too. It's been another three week stretch and I'm dying to hold her, kiss her, fuck her into this very mattress. I want to be the one causing all the breathy moans and soft hisses that have echoed down my cellphone every night, rather than having to just fist my dick whilst she fucks herself with her damn vibrator. And I know that she'll be the first to admit it isn't a decent substitute for the real thing, but I sure as hell want to prove that point myself.

But it's not all about the sex. I even surprise myself with that. I miss her being in my apartment. I miss coming out of the bathroom and finding her sprawled out on my bed. I miss exchanging teasing comments over breakfast, lunch and dinner. I miss being able to wrap my arms around her and kiss her shoulder as we wash and dry dishes. I miss the way she fits perfectly into my side as we lay on the couch and watch TV. I miss laughing with her. I miss talking with her. I miss everything about her.

On the road, I can push it all away. I have something else to focus on. Back home? It's empty without her. Even when I'm in the gym, she creeps into my head and I can't shake her loose. Not that I want to. She can wrap herself around my mind, body and soul any day of the week. And that's a fact.

"Just drive safe," I tell her as I hear the wardrobe doors opening and closing a final time.

"Always do," she tells me and I smirk as I hang up, amused by the switch around. Normally it's me telling her that before I set off on the road.

Tugging on shorts, I debate eating and then remember I need to get food in. But the couch is calling me and I slump into the cushions, promising myself that I'll head out in half hour instead. I flick on the TV, thumbing the button on the remote.

"Now we're getting reports of a storm building in the south-east of the state. Jim, what can you tell us?"

I pause on the local news channel, my brow furrowing as the camera cuts to the weatherman.

"Well, folks, as you can see on the map, there is a huge area of low pressure building just south of the state border. Local reports from the area have been coming in – a lot of wind and rain starting to pick up and there is no real sign that this is going away any time soon. In fact, we're looking at a possibility of a severe weather warning as it heads further north and starts to grow in size. We'll keep you updated, but the advice is to stay inside and avoid any unnecessary travel."

"Thanks Jim. We'll keep you updated at home, but for now..."

I'm already listening to the calling tone as I wait for Becca to answer.

"Hey."

"You seen the weather report?" I cut to the chase.

She doesn't answer me.

"Becca." I can't help the sharpness that enters my voice.

"It's not been that bad..."

"What?" I'm upright now, my entire body tensed as I take in her words.

"It hit here yesterday. But it was fine, just strong winds and rain."

"It looked pretty bad to me on the news."

"They over-exaggerate."

"There's a severe fucking weather warning."

She exhales slowly. "It's on the border. By the time I get there, it'll have passed further north."

"Where you'll drive straight into it." I chew my lip. "Don't do it, Becca. Please. Just stay in the hotel until tomorrow."

"I thought you wanted to see me."

I blink, stunned. "Of course I want to see you. But I ain't about to let you drive through a tropical storm just so we can fuck."

"You won't let me?"

I scrape a hand over my face as I bite my tongue and take a deep breath. "That's not what I meant. I just don't want you to put yourself in unnecessary danger. That weather warning was no joke."

"They're just being over-cautious. The less people on the road the better as far as I'm concerned."

"Sure, only you and a handful of other idiots who don't take storms seriously. Jesus, Becca..."

"I'm not an idiot, Dean. I'll drive carefully."

"Why drive at all? Just stay in the hotel until it's completely cleared."

"And what if it doesn't clear today or tomorrow? We just gonna go another two weeks without seeing each other? Fuck that."

"If it means that you're safe, then yes. Shit..." I take a breath, desperately trying to keep the anger from my voice, to stay calm and collected. "I just don't like the idea of you deliberately putting yourself in harm's way."

"You're one to talk."

"Excuse me?"

"It's okay, I get it. It's one rule for you and another for me, right?"

"Becca..." I warn, desperate to stop her from saying something she'll only regret.

"No, you go off and be the big man and get your caveman on every damn night. Rules don't apply to you, do they? You can do as you damn please. But me? Oh, I gotta play my role too. I gotta stay at home, do as you tell me, don't go out in the big bad world."

"I never said that." Frustration rises like bile in the back of my throat.

"Wake up Dean. That isn't the girl you picked to be with. I'll do whatever the hell I like. And that's not going to change because of you. So if I want to drive home today, I'm going to drive home. Today."

"Listen to yourself," I snap back. "You gonna do this to prove a fucking point? I have never stopped you doing anything you wanted, but this is stupid. Beyond stupid. Fucking insane is what it is. All I want you to be is safe. And being on the road, in the middle of a goddamn hurricane, isn't safe. You hear me? It's not fucking safe."

"Right, let's talk about safe. Was it safe when you decided to drive through the night to get home? On barely three hours sleep?"

"That's-"

"Of course, that's different. Because it's you."

"Becca, you're not listening to me."

"You're right. Because I don't have to. I'm driving home. End of."

The line goes dead.

I hit re-dial the second she hangs up. But it rings for what feels like a lifetime before her voicemail cuts in.

I toss the phone to the side and drag my hands over my face, staring dumbly at the TV as Jim reappears with an update. I want to look away, but I can't. I'm transfixed in horror as he shows me where the storm has been and its route north. The graphic behind him shifts slowly, swirls of grey heading straight at the city, expected to hit in an hour or so.

There's no way she's going to miss it. The storm has slowed, taking its sweet time to wreak havoc on the ground below. Jim repeats his earlier warning, this time with the weight of the National Weather Service logo behind him. The news anchor reappears, this time cutting straight to a live feed of the storm in a town just south of the state border. My gut twists at the thought of Becca driving through that alone.

I re-dial, my fist clenching as it rings out again. How did things go from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds? I don't regret calling her out on her decision, but I never expected it to escalate the way it did. She seemed almost hurt that I didn't want her driving through a storm and the logic behind that is incomprehensible. To me anyway. To Becca it seemed as clear as day.

I've never once questioned her decisions, her actions, her choices. I've respected all of those things. I've respected her. In nine months, I've become enamoured with the way her mind works, her rational way of thinking. She's made me question my own judgements and beliefs, opened me up to a new way of looking at the world and my place within in it. Lying with her in my arms, we've contemplated how we'd put the world to rights in our own special way and I've wondered time and time again how lucky I am to have this straight-talking, broad-minded woman in my life.

But alongside that wonderful side to her, is her steely determination, unwavering in her decisions. And before now, that's never been a bad thing. I've shacked up with one too many chicks whose only trait was to roll over and take whatever they could. Becca's confidence is what attracted me in the first place. She turned the tables with ease, let me know that she was just as much in control as I was. We're equals, partners. Neither of us may know what we're doing in so deep, but that doesn't matter. We guide each other, we push through together. And that's down to her determination to make this work. She may be as laid-back as they come, but underneath the surface is a woman who knows what she wants and won't stop at anything until she gets it.

I only wish she wouldn't go so far as to put herself in danger. And that's what I hate. Blinded by her end goal to get home, to see me, to spend time with me, she'd rather take a risk than play it safe. On any other day, in any other situation, I'd be commending her. But today? I'd give anything for her to swallow her pride and stay put as I asked.

Because it isn't too much to ask, right? It shouldn't be too much to ask for my girlfriend to stay in her hotel and stay safe. It shouldn't be too much to ask given that the alternative... I fight back the nausea that starts to rise through my chest. I'm angry at her blatant stupidity. I'm humiliated at her insinuation at my controlling her. I'm wounded by the way she threw my concern back in my face.

And I'm scared. Above all, I'm fucking terrified. I've driven through many a bad patch of weather. I know how easy it is to lose concentration. I know how stiff arms can become when you're gripping the steering wheel, fighting to keep a car steady beneath you. I know how a foot can slip, how the car can start to slide. I shake my head, desperate to rid myself of these thoughts, but they stick fast, replaying over and over in my head. I watch in horror as my minds eye guides me through a visual that I hope and pray will never happen.

I fear losing her every day. Every damn day. Because I'm scared that I will do something to make her leave me. I'm still fighting to prove to myself that I am worthy of her company. And I fight hard. Yet here I am, stuck miles away, whilst she undertakes her own stupid act and I'm helpless to do anything about it. I fought back, but she was so resolute in her decision that I doubt that I could have said anything to change her mind.

I wanted to scream at her. Her selfishness shocked me. The way she tried to turn it on me. All to prove a point. But to what end?

And to what point?

I exhale slowly, a shiver running over my skin, curling around my limbs as my mind slowly forms a sickening conclusion.

The point is that she is as strong as I am.

The point is that she is as determined as I am.

The point is that she is as independent as I am.

Those three characteristics define who we both are. Seth and Roman have joked many times about how she is my female counterpart. How did I fail to see that beneath the comments made in jest, there was an element of truth? I've been blinded by... I don't know what. The similarities were mildly amusing, but our mentality, our very essence? Only now do I see how we are one of the same. Her arrogance, her defiance? I may as well have been listening and arguing with myself.

She is me.

I am she.

She is mine.

And I am hers. In every sense.

If the shoe was on the other foot, I'd have done the same. I'd have shrugged off her concern, batted away her pleas and done as I damn well wanted. I would be battling my way through that storm, fuelled by my need to see her, be with her. I'd move fucking mountains to be with her. I never realised she would do the same for me.

Something stirs inside me. A strange warmth spreading through my veins as I think of all the things I would do for her. It's an unfamiliar sensation, unsettling yet comforting, satisfying even. I've only had a glimpse at this feeling a few times before. The time where she trusted me with her key and never asked for it back. The time I just attached my key to the bunch in her purse without hesitation. The moments when I wake up in the middle of night, roll over and pull her into my arms. The times when I wake up in an empty bed, in a hotel room on the other side of the country and feel empty without her by my side.

A gentle rumble of thunder.

Looking up, I see the sky has darkened to almost black. The warmth is replaced by ice. My stomach twists and I feel light-headed.

I pick up the phone once again.

This time, it doesn't even ring.

"This is Becca..."

Four hours have come and gone. And still no sign of Becca. I'm well into double-figures with my fruitless calls to her cellphone. I'm torn between my desire to see her safe and sound and my anger and frustration that she's even embarked on this journey.

I wonder if she's stopped along the way, taken a break to get some coffee or just to regain her nerve. I wonder why she wouldn't text to tell me and then figure she's still mad at me for trying to stop her will. I'm still beating myself up over the words we exchanged. But I don't know what I could have changed to stop her from going. Reverse psychology is bullshit in my opinion. She'd have done it anyway, just as I would have. I have no doubt that ultimately, our arrogance will be our downfall.

I rest my head against the window, the sound of the rain filling my mind as I watch the empty street below. All I want is a sign that she's okay. That's all I'm asking. A rest stop and a quick text. I'd be happy with that. My misery, my anger, my anxiety would be briefly sated. Would that be too much to ask? Is that selfish on my behalf? I don't think so.

I breathe against the window, watching it cloud and then slowly fade. Lightning snaps in the sky, a deep rumble following seconds later. The wind howls above the clatter, whipping at the trees once again. I close my eyes and try not to think of Becca in her car, hunched over the wheel, a death-like grip on the steering wheel as she crawls through rivers of water.

Lights shine on my eyelids and I slowly open them to see a car heading down the street. My heart leaps as I recognise the make and model. I push away from the window, heading for the door, pausing only to stuff my feet into sneakers. The door slams behind me, keys jangling in my pocket as I leap down the stairs two at a time.

I almost crash straight through the main entrance door into the rain. I'm soaked to the skin in an instant as I hurry across the small parking lot to where Becca's car quietly hums, lights still on. In the gloomy darkness, I can see her silhouette, gathering her purse together. Without a second thought, I wrench the driver's door open.

"Dean! What the fuck?"

My hands grip her arms as I scan her face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She wrenches free of my grip but I fight back, pulling her out of the car so I can inspect her from head to toe. "Dean, I'm fine."

"Don't ever do that again."

"What, drive? Jesus, talk about over-reacting."

"I'm not over-reacting!" My voice bellows above the crack of thunder as she stands there open-mouthed, rain water drenching her hair, her clothes.

"I'm fine," she tells me again, her voice calm. But it does little to ease my worry. "I was slow, I was careful."

"You didn't answer your phone. Why didn't you stop to tell me you were okay?" I refuse to let go of her, my hands clutching her wet hoodie as she tries to reach behind her to grab her purse.

"I didn't want any distraction. That's all. And I didn't stop because I wanted to push through. I wanted to make good time. And I did."

"Why would you do something so stupid?" My relief is overwhelmed by my continued frustration. "I was terrified."

"Why?" She pulls free from my grip once again. "Fuck, Dean. Why are you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad!"

"Sounds like you are." She pushes past me, heading for the trunk. "You're mad because I did something against your will."

"Fuck my will. Do what you damn well like, but that doesn't mean I can't look out for you."

"Why?" She whips around, water flying from her wet hair.

"Because I love you!"

My words echo around the parking lot. Becca's eyes are wide but unreadable in the gloom. My heart is pounding, heat rushing to my cheeks as I grasp wildly for some excuse that fails to materialise.

Because there is no excuse.

"You love me?" I can barely hear her above the wind and the rain. She looks so small, so fragile, a hand coming up to push wet hair from her face as she stares up at me. A gasping breath rips through her. "Dean. Answer me."

My hands tremble as I reach out to her once again, my fingers brushing over her shoulder, up to her neck, curling around the back of her head as I pull her towards me. "I love you."

The words are a release. Tension ebbs from my body as she relaxes into my touch, her eyes shining up at me. That familiar warmth spreads through me as her lips part.

"I love you too."

My mouth crashes against hers. Her lips are cool, but her tongue is hot and furious against mine as I back her up against the car. My fingers slide through her wet hair as she clings to my shirt, her fist twisting the material as she holds me to her with force. A quiet moan passes between us and I deepen the kiss, as I slide a hand down her back to her ass, my hand possessively pushing into her back pocket and squeezing.

She shivers as I slowly release her, sucking firmly on her bottom lip as she gazes up at me with hazy eyes. Her face lights up from another bright flash of lightning, thunder booming above us. I tug at her hand.

"Forget your bags."

The lights of her car flash as she locks it and we hurriedly retreat inside. The entrance door slams behind us and I immediately push her up against it, our clothes squelching against the glass. My forehead presses against hers as I hold her gaze.

"I love you," I breathe again. "Please... Don't ever scare me like that again."

"I won't."

My fingers ghost down her cheek, her throat. "Please."

"I won't," she repeats. "I promise."

"I..." Pure, raw emotion that I can barely begin to grasp, tears at my voice. "I can't lose you,"

Her fingers tremble as she brushes my cheek and then pushes my wet hair back. "You won't."

"I was scared." I want to smack the vulnerability from my voice, from my mind, but at Becca's touch, I feel safe.

"It's okay. I'm here. I'm safe. I'm with you." Her lips touch mine briefly. "I love you."

My heart swells as she whispers it again. And again. Soft kisses trail from my lips, to my nose, to my forehead. She gently pushes me back, ushers me towards the stairs and we climb, slowly, my arm sneaking around her shoulders as we reach the first floor. Her arm curls around my waist at the second. My mouth finds hers at the third.

Slow has never been our thing. We're hard and fast. Slow when we need to be, but ultimately it's always raw and unforgiving. But not tonight. Not now.

I hold her gaze as I shed my sneakers and then bend down to strip her feet of her sodden Converse. She leads me towards the bedroom, turning to face me as she enters the room. Her hand slowly tugs her hoodie zipper south, revealing a damp wet white shirt beneath. The material clings to her frame, showcasing her dark bra beneath. I move forward, pushing the hoodie from her shoulders, down her arms as I lean down and nuzzle at her neck. I lick away the drips of water from her hair as her hands slide around my waist and pull at my wet shirt.

I pull back for a second, crossing my arms over my front and remove my shirt. Her eyes drop to my torso and beyond, hunger flashing across her face as I chuckle softly and close the small gap between us. My hand cradles the back of her head as I kiss her tenderly. I'm determined to drag this out for as long as possible. I want to cover every inch of her. I want to take my sweet time showing her exactly how much she means to me.

My fear is a distant memory. My frustration at her decision is barely a whisper as I peel her shirt from her body, one hand immediately falling to her breast as I capture her mouth once again. She's here. With me. In my arms. Just how she wanted. Just how I wanted.

I fucking love her.

A smirk tugs at my lips as I pull back for a quick breath.

"What?" she murmurs.

"I love you."

She giggles lightly. "I heard you the first time. Who'd have thought the infamous Dean Ambrose would be such a sap?"

I growl into her neck. "I ain't a sap."

"You keep telling yourself that," she gasps as my fingers tweak her nipple through her bra. "You're just one big, happy sap."

"Happy you're here, sure. Big, hell yeah I am, darlin'. But a sap? Fuck that."

"Your secret's safe with me," she whispers with a nip to my earlobe.

"Tell me," I groan against her throat.

"Tell you what?" she asks, her oh-so-innocent tone gentle in its teasing. "Oh," she gasps as I unclasp her bra. "That I love you too?"

"Yeah..." I breathe, watching goosebumps form on her shoulder as I slip the bra straps from her arms.

"I," she exhales slowly as my hand closes around her bare breast, my thumb flicking over the hard peak.

"Love," she gasps as my mouth closes over her nipple, my tongue swirling over the tight tip before I graze my teeth against its length.

"You..." The final word is almost lost in a whimper as I release her breast and knead it hard, pressing both together and trailing my tongue between the seam of flesh all the way up to her mouth.

I don't think I will ever tire of hearing those three words coming out of her mouth. No matter when, no matter where. The warmth in my stomach is slowly turning to fire, my hands releasing her breasts to slide down her back to her hips and ass, pulling her against me. My dick twitches in my shorts, nudging her in the stomach as I back her up to the bed.

I close my mouth over her other breast as I start to work my way back down her body. Her fingers tangle in my hair, her vice-like grip making it difficult to move any further. Her nipple is red when I finally release it from my mouth, my teeth on the sensitive point having pulled loud, throaty moans from Becca. My fingers deftly un-do her wet jeans, peeling them away from her pale skin. Her hands grip my shoulders as I guide one leg free and then the other, tossing the jeans aside with the rest of our wet clothes.

My thumbs hook inside the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her legs, my lips pressed against her hip bone. I press open-mouthed kisses across her lower abdomen, my chin grazing the soft hair just above her sex as she lets out a soft mewl.

"Don't tease..."

I push her back onto the bed, my hands gripping her ankles as I lift her legs in the air and slowly push them back towards her.

"I'm just getting started, darlin'," I grin darkly, shifting on the bed until my arms stretch along the length of her legs and her glistening pussy is within full view and reach of my mouth. Cocking my head to the side, I glance up at her. "I'm gonna take my sweet time with you tonight..."

She lets out a breathy curse as I lower my mouth, my tongue licking from bottom to top.

"Damn, Becca... You taste better every time."

A blush creeps onto her cheeks, her hands scrambling to grasp the bedsheets. "Dean..."

Another long lick, another slow moan of approval. I lick my lips as I watch her eyes flutter shut. "Look at me. Watch me."

Her eyes slowly open, darkened orbs staring up at me as I circle her clit with my tongue, grinning as she jerks against me. My grip on her legs tightens, stilling her. A soft whimper drifts through the air as I kiss her wet slit again, this time my tongue pushing inside her, a loud slurping noise filling the air as her juices flood my mouth.

My nose brushes against her clit and she cries out softly as I press her legs even further back towards the bed, her body willingly bending in half as her ass rises off the bed. She lets out a gargled cry as continue to feast on her pussy, my mouth alternating between her wet opening and her clit, the latter bringing loud cries that seem to tear through her entire body, the former providing me with soft, breathy moans that drift through the air. Both however, have an unbelievable effect on my dick, which presses painfully hard against my shorts.

"Dean... Shit..."

I smirk against her thigh as I trail my tongue along the seam of skin linking her leg to torso.

"Ow," I grumble as her hand collides with my head, fingers scraping against my scalp as she pulls my mouth back to her pussy.

"Don't tease," she hisses again. "Please..."

"You gotta ask nicely."

"Please, Dean... I wanna cum..."

"How?"

I slowly ease back, letting her legs drop for a moment as I rid myself of my shorts. As I climb back onto the bed, my fingers sink between her legs, two pushing into her tight entrance. My thumb brushes over her clit and my dick jerks in my fist as I watch her hips buck. She stares at me through hooded eyes, one hand twisted in the bedsheets as I continue to finger-fuck her, her other slowly closing around one breast, fingers tweaking her nipple.

"Tell me," I rasp. "How you want to cum."

"I..."

"My fingers?" I pump them harder. "My mouth?" I ease back down between her thighs, nudging them wider with my shoulders as I suck her clit between my lips. "Or my dick?" Moving upright once again, I pull my fingers free. Coating my length with her juices, I guide the tip against her welcoming entrance then up to rub over her clit.

"I want it all," Becca breathes, her hand still pinching at her breast. Leaning down, I brush my nose against her cheek.

"Greedy..."

She whimpers softly as I slide down her body once again, my hands gathering her legs, pushing them high and wide once again. This time though, I press my forearm against the back of her knees, leaving my other hand free to trace her sex. My fingers slip back inside her as my lips close around her clit. She squirms against me, but I press back gently, determined to keep my pace slow. Languid thrusts with my fingers, tantalising licks and sucks to her clit.

"Fuck... Dean... Please..."

I can feel her pussy clamping down on my fingers, her body starting to shake uncontrollably in my arms. Lifting my gaze, I watch fascinated as her eyes squeeze shut, her mouth twisting open in silent scream as her forehead creases.

A sudden release of air and she's howling my name. Her body jerks violently as I increase the pace of my thrusts, my lips suckling faster, my tongue relentless on her clit.

"Oh... Shi... Dean... DEAN!"

Her legs hang over my arm as she gasps for breath. Reaching over her, I tug two pillows from the top of the bed, slowly easing them under her ass. On my knees, my dick is perfectly aligned with her slick entrance, the backs of her thighs firm against my stomach as I push her legs together. Her feet rest on my shoulder and I squeeze her ankles, causing her eyes to flicker open.

Leaning forward, bending her legs towards her slightly, I reach down and push damp hair back rom her face.

"Beautiful," I whisper and then groan as I guide my dick inside her.

With her legs pushed together, she is wonderfully tight. My hips thrust forward and back at a steady pace, relishing in the sensation of her gripping me with every stroke. With one hand, I ease her ankles over each other, crossing them on my shoulder and making her even tighter. A throaty growl leaves my body as I watch her raise a hand to her mouth, wetting her fingers before trailing them along her stomach, forging a path to between her thighs.

"Fuck, Becca... You have no idea how fucking hot you look," I grunt out as I feel her shiver at her own touch.

Easing her legs apart, I let my gaze drop to between them, groaning loudly as I see my dick slipping in and out of her, whilst her own fingers tease and pinch her clit.

"Harder..."

I shake my head, but she whines softly.

"Please, Dean..."

Gripping her calves tightly, I thrust into her, my ego swelling as she lets out a strangled "Yes!" I can feel her pussy tightening around my length as I pound into her, sweat starting to form on my brow and chest as I, along with her fingers, start to push her towards her release. She's relentless in her demands for her body, always wanting more and I'm always willing to give her everything I've got. And even when I think I've given her all I have, I still find more.

Her body twists as my name tumbles from her lips, her head burying into the sheets as she shudders and trembles beneath me. I let her legs fall from my shoulders, twisting them around my waist as I grip her shoulder and press her into the mattress. My hips jack-hammer back and forth, all thoughts of slow and gentle gone from my mind as my hand creeps up to her neck and fists her hair. I tug her face back to me, fingers roughly pushing her hair back so I can see her eyes. She gazes up at me, her orbs as dark as they always get when we fuck, but there's something else in them. A look that I've seen before, but never quite grasped what it meant. My chest tightens as I slam into her, but not because of my impending release. But because I realise now that look is.

She loves me.

"Becca..." I gasp, blood starting to rush south as my vision starts to blur.

She loves me.

I collapse forward, my dick pulsing inside her. My head is spinning, my release more intense than ever. I'm gasping for air, my eyes stinging as I fight away the urge to release in another way.

Becca's fingers are cool and gentle, stroking through my hair, down my neck, across my shoulders. I breathe in her scent as I rest against the crook of her neck, desperately trying to regain my breath, my strength, my overall composure.

"Hey." She blows warm air across my ear. "You okay?"

Her hands clutch the back of my head, pulling me up to meet her questioning gaze. I nod, swallowing hard.

She pulls my forehead to her lips, kissing away beads of sweat. "I've told anyone that before," she whispers.

I pull back slowly, watching her eyes start to shine. Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth as she looks away.

"Don't do that..." My fingers brush over her cheek. "I've told anyone either."

"And I didn't mean to scare you or make you worry. I'm... I'm not used to people looking out for me the way you do."

"I didn't mean to make you think like I was trying to control you. That's the last thing on my mind, Becca. Your independence, your strength, your fight, that's what I love about you. I'd never want to take that away from you."

I've never been so honest, so open. In the past nine months, I've never felt so at ease with a woman. She pulls emotions from me with ease and I release them to her with pleasure, unashamed at how she makes me feel.

I drop my head to brush my lips over hers. "You make me crazy, darlin'. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

She giggles against my cheek as I bury my face in her neck again. "You make me all kinds of things," she murmurs back.

Her legs slide against mine, her hips rocking against mine. I let her, rolling onto my back until she straddles my waist. She hums softly as she kisses me, her hands moving to find mine and push them above my head.

"You make me crazy too..." she breathes against my neck.

Her hands slip from mine, fingers ghosting over my arms, making me shiver as she slides down to my chest, my stomach.

"I love you," she murmurs against my hip.

My reply is lost in a groan, my fingers tangling in her hair as my mind starts to swim. My last coherent thought is her. Becca. My Becca. My chest tightens and I can feel her smirking as my words echo around the room.

Take my hand, take my whole life too
For I can't help falling in love with you

Fin x

DISCLAIMER 2: Lyrics taken from Elvis Presley's "Can't Help Falling In Love" Because what else could I use for this "finally!" moment? I apologise for what may have been a slightly (well deliberately!) mis-leading summary and opening... But you didn't think I would make it too obvious right?! x