"Civilized"

By: Lauren

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing and will make absolutely no profit from this story. :)

Author's Note: A number of you have asked about AO3 in regards to the Burning Verdict story. I cannot reply to guest reviews, so hopefully, you will see this. AO3 is the Archive of Our Own site. I will post any more mature versions of stories there, though some will be the same. Just Google search for archive of our own and Perry Mason, and they should pop up. My screen name is the same.

This story is a previously published, short one-shot that I edited a bit. This one required the least bit of editing, so I am adding it back rather quickly. Enjoy!

A loud clap of thunder resounded through Perry's office just seconds after bright, white lightning lit up the dark evening sky. Della could almost feel the chilling wind as she reviewed Perry's citations for the Gregory brief. Despite the spectacular winter thunderstorm, she was still able to hear Perry's entrance into his office. Their relationship, though only months old, felt much older... stronger... right. Her heart did a flip flop at the thought of seeing him as she rose from his desk. "Hi," she said quietly as he entered the inner office.

As he tossed his coat and hat over the enigmatic Blackstone, Perry glanced up. "Hi."

Recognizing the fatigue in the single syllable, Della went to him. "How'd it go?"

He flexed his back before crossing to his desk and sinking heavily into his chair as she followed behind. "Three hours with Victoria Daily."

Della needed no more. 'Difficult' didn't begin to describe Perry's most current client. So far, there had only been one other that could match her- Eva Belter. Della shivered at the thought of that wretched woman.

Lifting her hands, she began to knead at the tension in his shoulders. "You don't like her," she said as Perry let out a sigh.

"No, I don't." He stretched under Della's hands. "She's spoiled, selfish, and vain. She has the courtesy of a nasty five-year-old."

"It must have been a very delightful afternoon," Della murmured. Her silkened, bedroom voice washed over him.

Perry chuckled. Della could always make him feel better, no matter the circumstance. He lifted his hands to her wrists and pulled the right around to place a kiss on her pulse. "I don't have to like her. I just have to defend her, which would be much easier if Victoria herself wasn't the DA's best weapon. There's no way to make a jury see her as a sympathetic victim. Most of the emotion will be on Burger's side, while I'll have to stick with straight law." He needed more of her. Standing, he turned and pulled her close.

"You're going for a bench trial," Della said as she studied his face.

A hint of a smile played on his mouth as he nodded in agreement. "I'd rather present this kind of case to a judge. When I told Victoria, she had a temper fit and fired me." Laughing at Della's outraged expression, Perry cupped her face with his hands, then kissed her, pulling away far sooner than he was ready. "For about five minutes," he added. "She might be rude, but she's not stupid."

"It sounds to me as though it would have served her right if you'd taken her dismissal at face value and walked out."

"Would you?" he countered.

Her face relaxed into a smile. "No, but I'd have been tempted. Are you ready to call it quits for the day?"

"Yeah." His hand slipped to her waist to gather her closer. "Absolutely."

"Then get your coat," she ordered. "I'm going to take you to dinner. Then," she added with a devilish grin and a wink, "I'm going to lure you back to my place."

"Really?" he asked in mock astonishment.

"Really," she replied.

Perry studied her, noting that her eyes were as confident as her words. He touched her hair. "I like your style, Miss Street. It's very take-charge."

"Counselor," Della returned as she buttoned his coat herself, hands lingering on his chest, "you haven't seen anything yet."

Flushed with cold and gripping an icy bottle of champagne, Della opened the door of her apartment. Dinner had relaxed them, slowly nudging the demands of their work, the people whose lives and problems dominated so many of their hours, to the back of their minds. Now they were just a man and a woman with lives and problems of their own.

"I'll get the glasses," Della stated, handing the bottle to Perry.

He glanced idly at the label. "I suppose you intend to fuddle my mind with champagne."

Coming back with two tulip glasses, she smiled. "I'm counting on it. Why don't you open that?"

Lifting a brow, Perry tore the foil from the top of the bottle. "I might not be as easily manipulated as you think."

"Oh, no?"

"Maybe I'm immune to your ploys among your... other charms."

"Immune, huh?" Della set down the glasses, then slid her hands up the front of his suit jacket, slipping it off him. This time, Della would test her own strengths and his weaknesses. This time, she would not be led, she would lead. "I think it will be a rather open and shut case." Della nibbled lightly on his bottom lip as she loosened the knot of his tie. When she felt his arms come around her, she drew back, keeping her lips inches from his. "How about that champagne?"

"Didn't we drink it already?"

On a low laugh, she caught the end of his tie between her thumb and forefinger. "No." Slowly, she slipped the tie off and tossed it aside. She felt a quick thrill at her own actions and wondered if he felt it too yet knew that he did. "Why don't you pour it?" she murmured, undoing the first three buttons of his shirt. "I'll put on some music."

As she crossed the room, Della stepped out of her shoes. She turned the player on low so that the soft, bluesy number was hardly more than a whisper. When she dimmed the lights, Perry glanced over to see her slip off her wine-colored blazer.

"I think," he said quietly as he filled both glasses, "I'm in trouble."

With a laugh that was more of a sigh, Della walked back to him. "You are in trouble." Taking a glass, she sat on the sofa and pulled him down beside her. "Deep trouble," she added, nipping at his ear before tracing the lobe with her tongue.

"Maybe I should put myself entirely in your hands." Turning his head, he caught her wandering mouth with his, but she allowed him only the briefest taste.

"My thoughts exactly." So much for his immunity. She touched the rim of her glass to his, then drank. "Have I ever told you," she began while her fingers began to toy with the nape of his neck, "that you fascinate me?"

A deep shiver rocked Perry to his toes. "No. Do I?" Perry lifted his hand to draw her closer, but Della caught it in hers.

"Yes." Slowly, she brought his hand to her lips, pressing them against his palm. Tonight she would be all woman, only a woman. Not a secretary in sight. "Strong hands." Watching him, she kissed his fingers one by one. "One of the first things I noticed was that they weren't the soft lawyer's hands I'd expected. I wondered how they'd feel on my skin." She laced her fingers with his as she brought the glass to her lips again.

Feeling desire sprint through him Perry stared at her. She was mesmerizing him. The feeling left him burning and oddly weak. In the dim light, her eyes were dark and mysterious with the seductively languid look that had stirred him from the first moment she walked into his office. "Della..."

"Then there was your mouth," she went on, letting her eyes linger on it. "Such a clever mouth." She brushed her lips lightly over his. "The first time you kissed me, I couldn't think of anything else. It excited me," she whispered against his lips, tilting her head back ever so slightly when he sought to deepen the kiss.

He moaned. "Dellaaa…"

"At other times your mouth is... indescribably gentle. I could spend hours and hours doing nothing more than kissing you." Perry sought to do just that, but she shifted away to watch him over the rim of her glass as she sipped her champagne.

"Baby." Perry's voice was low as he tried again. He cupped his hand around her neck to drag her closer.

Della kept herself a frustrating distance away with her hand against his chest. "Then, of course, there's always your eyes. I love your eyes." She could feel his need- the tension of his need- in the fingers that pressed into her skin. Typically, she let Perry have complete control, utterly content to bask in his skill and attention, but not tonight. Tonight, she would drive him to lose control. Then revel in the consequences. "I like the way they darken when you want me. I can see it." She spread her fingers over his chest. "I love seeing how much you want me." As she felt his heart thud furiously beneath her palm, her own sped up to race with it. "You're tense. You should drink your champagne and relax."

Throbbing, he met the challenge in her eyes. She was making it damned difficult, and she knew it. Through sheer force of will, he loosened his grip and fought back the first flood of need. Della fully intended to drive him mad, and knowing it, Perry determined to regain some control. "You know that I want you." Keeping bright blue eyes on hers, he lifted the glass. "You know that I'll have you."

"Perhaps." She smiled again as she ran long, slender fingers through her thick, silken curls. The scent that was uniquely Della seemed to drift out and wrap around him.

He took a deep breath to capture that mind-numbing fragrance, and his groin tightened even further. He watched Della's delicate throat as she took a long sip from her glass. Watched as she swallowed. Perry wondered if he would survive her seduction.

The wine bubbled icily over her tongue, adding to her sense of power. Leisurely, she ran a fingertip down his shirtfront, then back up to loosen the rest of the buttons. "I often think of the first time you kissed me, so soft, so gentle." She ran her hand over his naked chest, slowly, very slowly, moving down until she reached what it was for which she was searching.

"If you want me to be gentle," he managed as the soft touch of her fingertips tore at his restraint, "this isn't the way." He grabbed her hand in an attempt at sanity.

"Did I say that's what I wanted?" she asked with a throaty laugh. Watching his eyes darken, Della retook his mouth, this time allowing the kiss to linger.

His mind clouded- her taste, that wicked scent. Setting his glass aside, Perry plunged both hands into her hair and dove into the kiss. "More," was all he could think. Perry had to have more of her and yet still more — only her. Her mouth had softened seductively under his with a deceptive surrender he would have recognized had his mind been as clear as his need. Della's quiet moan seemed to race through him. With his breathing already labored, Perry reached for the zipper at the back of her skirt.

"Not yet, not yet," Della ordered herself as her thoughts began to swim. Passion was lapping at her, much as the flames of a fire lap at its obsession. But she wanted something more tonight. She wanted a few more moments of control. Feeling her skirt begin to loosen, she pulled away.

"Della..." Perry began on a half groan, but she evaded him and rose.

"Don't you want any more champagne?" she asked, pouring more into her glass.

In one quick move, Perry stood and grabbed her shoulders. "You know damn well what I want."

Another thrill of excitement sped into her at his loss of control. It reflected in her eyes as she kept her voice low. "Yes."

Impulsively she drained her glass, then held it lightly by the stem. She looked into the delicate empty glass, "Such a civilized drink." Slowly she raised her eyes to him, "Take me to bed, Perry." Della moved closer. "And make love to me."

As the last thread of control snapped, Perry yanked her against him. The glass fell to the carpet to roll across the room. "Here," he demanded. "Now." With his mouth crushed on hers, his tongue demanding entrance, he dragged her to the floor.

His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, seeking, finding, while his mouth stayed fused to hers relishing the taste that was only her. Della gloried in it and, while her body wildly responded, sought to drive him further from reason. Her mouth was aggressive, meeting his with a hot, hungry fury that could only partially show the needs raging inside her. She would feed on his desire even while she stoked it.

Della pulled the shirt from his back, and when his mouth freed hers briefly, nipped her teeth lightly into his shoulder. With a half-muffled oath, Perry crushed her roaming mouth with his again.

He peeled her skirt from her before making quick work of her blouse. His hands were rushing to possess the soft skin. Desire was stabbing at him, potent and painful, forcing him to hurry where he would have lingered, driving him to take quickly what he would have savored. He thought he had felt need before, but it had never been like this: unreasonable, unmanageable. A rough urgency took the place of skill when he, at last, had her naked beneath him.

He swore once, with no knowledge of whom, of what he was cursing, then he was inside her with a force that had her gasping out his name. Half-mad, he covered her mouth with his and swallowed her moans. He drove her, drove himself until there was only blinding heat and whirling colors. Perry knew nothing else; savagely he wanted nothing else. Caught in the vortex of the storm, they moved like lightning until, both of them shattered, their strength drained. With something akin to pain, he felt sanity return.

Still, he couldn't move. His breath came in gasps he couldn't control as he buried his face in her hair. He was trembling, he realized. No woman, no passion had ever made him tremble. No woman had ever driven him mad. No woman had caused him to lose complete control- no woman that is until Della Street. "What was she doing to him? What was this power she had over him?" he wondered as he tried to catch his breath. The last thing he clearly remembered was pulling her to the floor. All the rest came back as sensations. They might have lain there for ten minutes or ten hours. He couldn't think- even now that the desperation had passed; he still couldn't put together a coherent thought.

Had he hurt her? His mood had been close to violent when he dragged her to the floor. There'd been something about the way she had looked at him when she'd told him to take her to bed. At that moment, he had lost all sense of time and place, as well as any tenuous claim he'd still held to being civilized. Typically, Perry was a very attentive, present, and in-control lover. Before Della. Now he had lost every last vestige of control.

Dazed, Perry lifted his head to look down on her. Her eyes were open, though heavy-lidded. Her skin held that flushing glow of passion just spent. Incredibly, he felt fresh desire ripple through him. Dropping his face back into her hair, he took deep, steadying breaths. He needed a minute, he told himself. Good God, he needed a minute, or he'd take her like a madman again.

"Perry." His name escaped as a sigh. Della ran her hands over his back as he moved his hands to her face, looking at her. In his eyes, she saw the vulnerability, the weakness, the love he had for her. His head dropped to her breast again. His strength still yet untouchable. She could feel his heartbeat begin to level. The breath that feathered over her ear grew steadier. When Perry lifted his head again, she ran a hand over his cheek.

"You never cease to surprise me, baby." He kissed her and gently touched the lips, still warm and swollen from his ardent explorations.

She smiled. "Why is that, Counselor?"

He continued to nibble at her lips. "In a woman who takes such pains to be dignified... well-mannered... unflappable... you wanted to make me crazy, didn't you?"

She sighed as his mouth began to feast at her throat. Triumph glowed through her. She had discovered one more part of Della Street, and so had he. "I did make you crazy."

"I love you." Perry kissed her throat, "so very much."

"I love you, too."

His lips curved into a smile against her skin before he lifted his head again. "We'll have that champagne now before I take you to bed, as you asked." Perry finally moved from his resting place, stretched out over her gloriously naked body, and poured more wine into the glass on the table. He then offered it to her. "We seem to have lost the other glass. Guess we'll have to share this one."

Sitting up, Della drank, letting the champagne pour through her with its icy effervescence. "It tastes even better now," she said with a smile as she passed it back to Perry.

"As you said..." He sipped as his eyes answered her smile. "A civilized drink."