Author's disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and Inspector Lynley remains the property of Elizabeth George. This is written purely for entertainment, and no profit is derived nor sought.

Warning: This story is written in the erotic fiction genre. It is rated MA, contains graphic sex scenes, swearing and uses adult words to describe sexual parts. I make no apologies for this. If you read this note and still choose to read on then become offended, it was your choice. No one forced you - least of all me.

Foolishly I had offered to host the party to celebrate my promotion to Commander at my house. I had caterers to manage the food and being summer I had insisted on using my yard to stop the Met's finest spilling their beer and sausages on my best Persian rugs. Actually, I had removed the rugs - one can never be too careful.

It was almost midnight, and most of them were starting to drift away. I had made my speech and remembered to thank everyone, but to be honest, my words had only been for one person, Barbara. For thirteen years she had been at my side, and I was going to miss her. I had been trying to weave my way towards her for an hour, but people kept stopping me with a hearty slap on the back or a casual through clearly rehearsed speech about wanting to join my new unit. I should be flattered, but I knew most viewed Cyber-Terrorism as the future of policing.

The only person who had not asked to join me was Barbara. I knew her views and respected it. Her skills were reading people, not machines, and nothing I said convinced her that she could help understand the people behind those machines. It had been a desperate ploy as there was no opening for her but I did not want our partnership to end. As I moved in the yard, I was assailed by a constable who was about to leave. After listening to his sales pitch, I was growing irritable. "Have you seen Sergeant Havers?"

"She was in the yard a while ago, up the back."

I began searching near the fence. I heard a rustle behind the hedge. "Barbara?"

"No."

I smiled at her reply. After listening to everyone else, it was good to hear her voice. I pushed my way between the branches. Leaves flicked in my eyes and my hair caught briefly on a twig. "Why are you hiding in here? I've been looking for you."

"I...I needed some time."

I finally reached her and could see she had been crying. "Oh, Barbara. Don't be upset."

"I'm not. I'm happy for you. You deserve it. Your speech was..." Barbara let out a muffled cry.

I moved close to her. "I meant every word. You've been my rock. I would never have made it without you. And I will miss listening to you whinging every day about traffic or paperwork or poncy lords with no idea about the real world."

Barbara wiped her eyes and nodded. "Me too. I'm sorry. I wasn't going to let you see me like this."

I put my arms around her and pulled her close. Tears wet my shirt. "Don't Barbara. It's not the end."

"But it is! It really is."

I grabbed her by the arms and pushed her back against the fence. I was going to reassure her that we would find a way. When I had been made DCI, it had been easy. Even as Superintendent I had been able to take Barbara as my office sergeant. She had kept everyone in order, and we had even been able to work together, with the teams, on the larger cases. Now she was right. We would not be able to work closely together. Suddenly the loss settled on me like a heavy fog. Barbara looked up at me expectantly. Her eyes burrowed into me. I knew I was staring at her. Somewhere in the depths of my mind, I was debating what to say, but words seemed unnecessary. I pulled her to me and kissed her.

I had intended it to be soft and loving, but our mouths crashed together in a fury; tangling tongues battled hungrily for supremacy. Barbara's hands raked through my hair then grabbed handfuls behind my ears and held me to her. My fingers dug into the flesh of her backside. Even through the soft denim of her jeans, I could feel her firm curves. One of Barbara's hands slid down my side and across to my zip. Before I could think of reacting, she had reached inside my jeans and pulled my cock free. I was already so hard it hurt. I groaned loudly into our frenzied kiss. My hands unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them roughly down her thighs. I used my foot to force them below her knees. I lifted her against the cold, rendered brick of my high back fence. My hips spread her legs as I pushed towards her.

Barbara gripped my cock firmly and guided the head past the thin elastic edge of her lacy briefs. She squeezed gently then let go. I rammed myself home. Barbara cried out. I stopped, but her hands were in each of the back pockets of my jeans, and they pulled me deeper. She bit my lip and drew blood. It mingled into our kiss with a coppery aftertaste. She was wet and velvety, moulding exactly to my shape. A heavy musky scent surrounded us. Barbara cooed my name - an intoxicating sound. I had waited years to hear her call me Tommy. She made it sound exotic, almost like the call of a Siren. I closed my eyes and drank in the heavenly sensations; the noise of our uneven breathing, the taste of her skin as I ran my tongue across her neck, the unmistakable smell of desire, and the glorious, slippery heat that gripped my cock hard as she sucked me into her. My balls tightened in anticipation. I wanted to stay buried deep inside her forever, but my hips were moving of their own accord. They were thrusting hard and getting faster and faster. The lace added a roughness to each return that bordered on being painful. I wanted to slow down for her, but she was already beginning to tighten rhythmically around my shaft. The hard bulb of her womb seemed to caress me and instinct as old as life itself stirred in me. I wanted to fill her with my seed. I needed her to be mine and mine alone, so I pushed her harder against the wall and quickened my pace.

In the background, someone had turned up the music. We both stopped and laughed as Mick Jagger sang about being started up. "I'll never stop," I told her and kissed her savagely. With her knees locked around my hips, she manoeuvred me into just the right spot then started to pant heavily. I was angled so that every movement rubbed over the rock hard point of her clit that pressed against the saturated satin of her briefs. Our bodies moulded together as if they had been designed specifically for each other. I had never wanted to fuck anyone as hard as I needed to fuck her now. It was primal... raw... urgent.

As she began to cry out, I kissed her deeply to muffle the sound. I could tell she was struggling to breathe, but I mercilessly blocked her throat with my tongue as I pounded possessively into her. Her fingernails raked down my back as she arched forward, forcing every last millimetre inside her. I continued to thump brutally into her but more slowly and controlled. I made her wait until I was ready until I felt she was at one with me. Her climax engulfed me. I was drawn into an orgasmic vortex. The world became hazy, and I tried to free my lips to cry out. Now Barbara trapped me. As I exploded inside her in waves of pure joy, I screamed deep into her mouth.

I had screwed women hard before but it had always been purely physical. What had just happened was far more than a quick fuck. Barbara had just made love to my soul. She had found a part of me that had been untouched by any woman. I felt exposed and vulnerable, yet safe and loved. She had owned me as much as I had taken her. We stood wordlessly, our heads resting on the other's shoulder. I whimpered twice with small aftershocks. There was a red glow in front of my eyes, and my heart was thumping rapidly in my chest. I moved my head up and kissed her lovingly.

"Sir! Is that you in there? Have you seen Barbara?" I recognised Winston's slurry voice.

"No, I was looking for her," I called back.

"People are wondering where you are. Hillier wants to leave but can't till you come back."

"Just give me a minute."

Reluctantly I withdrew from Barbara's silky pussy. She scrambled to do up her jeans as I tucked my still turgid cock back into my trunks. The front of my jeans was damp from Barbara, and I smiled wondering if anyone would notice. I kissed her softly then pushed my way back through the bushes to my party. I would find her soon, and we could disappear upstairs and make love all weekend.

I waited until they were gone then snuck through his house. Most of the sycophants were jockeying for position around Tommy or Hillier and the also-rans, like me, were slowly draining the free booze to feed their mind-numbing stupors. I took one last, long look at Commander Tommy Lynley, Eighth Earl of Asherton. He was older and heavier, but still as beautiful as the day I first worked with him. God I was going to miss him. I took a deep breath then slipped away.

As I walked into town, I turned off my phone. I did not want the world to intrude on the night. I caught the bus so I could slowly come down from my high. The neon colours of the night swirled around me, matching my feeling of surreality. As I watched the people leaving their West End shows, I smiled. They looked happy and carefree. But you haven't just had what I had! I closed my eyes and relived the scene. It had been spontaneous and desperate. It was not sympathy for me. I had seen his eyes. He had wanted me; maybe even needed me. The sex was just a physical expression of a deeper need. Finally, we had admitted our secret.

As I walked the last blocks to my flat, my jeans were damp between my legs and rubbed slightly. My insides still felt numb and stretched. It had been a very long time since something human had been inside me and Tommy was much more well-endowed than I had expected. I was sore where he had ground into me but, for the moment at least, I had no regrets. I knew that would probably change tomorrow but for now, the fire that had burned for thirteen years had finally been quenched.

I knew I should shower, but I did not want to wash him away. I slowly stripped off my clothes until all I had on was my panties. I climbed into bed and pulled the blankets up to my neck. The lace pulled unpleasantly as I moved. My hand went down to adjust it. I could feel I was still swollen, and the area was hot. I ran my thumb over the top. It was wet, from him, from me, from us. It instantly aroused me. I wiggled my finger under the lace and between the folds to see what he would have felt. Silky heat. I lifted my finger to my nose and breathed in. A complex sweet aroma reminded me clean bathrooms and pine forests. I wrapped my lips around the end. It tasted of the sea. I imagined us repeating tonight against the wall of his shower with water cascading over us, or against a tree at Howenstowe in that valley near the ocean. I sighed and let my hand slip under the waistband of my panties. Now that I knew what it felt like to have Tommy inside me, my imagination could run free. I closed my eyes and thought about the cold tiles of a bathroom pressing against my back as the heat from Tommy's cock warmed me. I thought of him ramming into me, fast and unrelenting. I almost felt him stretching and pulling my pussy as he thrust in and out. The flat of my finger imitated the rhythm as it rubbed my clit. My other hand crumpled the bedsheets as my back arched off the bed. I thought of his tongue in my mouth and his hands squeezing my bum. Two final hard thrusts and I came, hard and loud. There was no mouth to stifle my cries so I screamed as much as I wanted. Nothing felt as good as it had with him coming inside me but it was close. I kept rubbing myself for as long as I could bear it, trying to hold onto the memory of Tommy inside me. I slowed to a stop and rearranged everything neatly. Tonight I would dream of him, yearn for him to be here, cry for him, and mourn for him. Tomorrow I would wake and start my first day without him.

Barbara was gone. I searched everywhere despite people telling me they had seen her leave. I was confused and angry. We had just shared a moment so intense I struggled to breathe as I thought about it, and yet she had gone home. I left two messages when her phone went to voicemail. I tried texting.

Miss you. Ring me. T xxx

After ten minutes I tried again. I need to talk to you. Ring me. T xxx

I waited half an hour. Please, Barbara. Ring me. T xxx

And another thirty minutes. I want to see you. Talk about our future. Love Tommy.

Finally, it was nearly three o'clock. I knew she had turned her phone off because when I rang it, her voicemail had answered straight away. Perhaps you're sleeping. I can't. I will come over in the morning. All my love, Tommy.

I tried to sleep. The caterers and last guests had been pushed out the door at two thirty. I needed a shower but it would wake me too much, or that was my excuse. So I took off my shoes and shirt and tumbled into bed. I was exhausted but worried. Why would Barbara leave? Surely she realised I loved her. We could have a future together, and it would be far better than work. I had visions of weddings and children. By the time I send my last text I had planned out our whole lives. I also knew she would have none of it. We would argue, probably viciously, but in the end, we would find common ground. I sighed and rolled over. Barbara needed time. I would give her that. I would wait until morning.