7

Passion

RH are together – at last! This is a pure smutty one. Set a few weeks after they got together. Don't read if it's not your thing...

Sometimes, she wants him so much, so deeply, that she can feel the dark flush of desire creeping up her neck. Those moments usually happen when the demands of work keep them apart for several nights, even though they try to spend at least two nights a week together. But this week has been particularly hectic, so they haven't seen each other outside work for five days, and that, together with the pressure of having to keep their relationship under wraps at work (It's not that I am afraid or ashamed ,Harry. I'm past that…it's just that I want to enjoy you, us, without anyone speculating…at least for a little while longer) have put her in a state of acute frustration. The day is mercifully drawing to an end, most of their colleagues have left, and Harry should be back soon from another meeting at Whitehall. They've agreed to go back to his house tonight, and she can't wait. Just the thought of having him, of lying next to him, of being pinned under his weight, of opening herself to him… She bites her lips as she batters her body down into submission. Stop it! she tells herself furiously. You're at work for God's sake!

'Ruth? Everything OK?'

She looks up sharply. 'Tariq…sorry, yes, I'm fine. It's been a long day', she smiles wanly.

'Yep. Speaking of which, I'm off. Any exciting plan tonight?', he asks cheerfully. She drops her pencil. 'Uh. No. Not really. Early night hopefully', she somehow manages to say with a straight face. With a last wave, he's off. She looks around, and notices that the Grid for once is deserted. Things have been astonishingly quiet lately and there's no reason really why she should stay – except for Harry. They have so little time together that even the commute, by car, to his place or hers, has become a treasured moment, an opportunity to unwind together, and reconnect, before the night claims them back.

Somehow she manages to focus on her files, an ear out for the slightest noise announcing his approaching presence. At last he comes in, but he is with Ros, who had gone with him to Whitehall, and much as she has come to like the section chief she wants her to leave, now, as soon as possible, so that they can be alone. Harry walks past her desk, with a brief nod and a smile, looking formal and commanding in his three piece suit, his eyes filled with what she has come to recognise as desire. And because she knows now the depths of passion behind that formal appearance, his demeanour, to all but her almost distant, arouses her even more. She turns her head back to her files, all the time aware of his pacing as he talks to Ros, knowing that once in a while he looks towards her hoping she will meet his gaze, refusing to comply in order better to tease him, filled with anticipation as what will come soon, once they are at his house.

At last Ros leaves Harry's office, with him on her heels. 'Bye, Harry, Ruth', she says sweetly, knowingly almost.

Harry keeps an eye on her as his section chief gathers her things. 'Goodbye, Ros. Ruth, those analyses of the comms we intercepted…have you got them? Good, come to my office then, we can…sorry, Ros? Have you left something behind?' His tone is pleasant without being warm. Ros throws him a long look. 'My car keys.' They watch her walk to her desk, ever so slowly, in the increasingly charged silence of the Grid, and keep watching her as she finally leaves.

Once they are alone, without a word, they make their way to his office. He draws the blinds down as she locks the door, they turn round at the same time to face each other. She steps towards him, almost blindly, and he crushes her to him, her face between his hands, his mouth descending on hers. He parts her lips with his tongue, and ravishes her. 'All day long, Ruth', he murmurs in between kisses. 'I've been thinking of you, of this….' She walks backward to lean on his desk, drawing him in, attacking his belt and flies with shaky fingers. He sends his files flying on the floor and lays her down on his desk, and unfastens her blouse, looming over her, raised on both arms. 'Christ', he whispers harshly. 'I want to…'

She pulls his head down to her breasts, almost roughly, hungry for his tongue and lips there, and slides his trousers and briefs down with her feet at the same time. She sits up on the desk, between his legs, as he is standing in front of her, and gets hold of his throbbing, hard, rigid shaft while he is sucking her breasts, stroking him expertly, in long and short, shallow and deep movements. He sneaks a hand between their bodies, and pulls her briefs down, not bothering with her skirt, and lets his fingers explore the wet, warm, slick folds of her sex, dipping in and out, more deeply each time, careful not to send her over the edge too soon, too quickly. He stops abruptly, and pulls away from her, completely. She whimpers in frustration. He holds her face again, gently, almost tenderly. 'All day long', he repeats, 'sitting in bloody meetings…all I could think of was doing this to you, tonight, here. At one point….well, thank God I had my briefcase to hide my…'

' Me too', she interrupts shakily, embarrased and thrilled by what he is evoking, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, her entire body aroused and craving him. 'I wanted to….'

'Tell me', he commands roughly. 'Tell me what you wanted to do'.

'I wanted to take your…'

'To take what? Tell me, Ruth', he tells her, feeling himself harden even more.

'Your...' She swallows, unable to say it, 'Your.... In my hand. I wanted to rub it against my…', she tells him, her voice almost unrecognisable. 'Up and down. Like this.'

His breath is ragged, as he is fighting for control.'What else?', he demands urgently. 'What did you want to do to me? Come on Ruth, tell me.'

She looks at him, a wild gleam in her eyes. Without a word, she gets him to lie down on his desk, fully, and she sits bestrides him, stopping him as he is about to thrust into her. 'No', she says firmly. 'I do this.' She lowers herself on him, and lies down on top of him, raised on her arms. Slowly, maddeningly, she raises herself up, until he is almost out of her, and lowers herself again. He grabs her hips. 'No', she repeats, almost a cry, 'I do this'. So he lets his hands fall, clenched into fists, allowing her set the pace. She slowly, still so slowly, thrusts herself on him only to move away, her brow glistening with sweat, refusing to give in to his demand that she should go faster, and harder. 'Not yet', she rasps, 'Not. Yet.' He lifts his hips off the desk, back arched backwards. 'Please. Ruth…', he can barely get the words out. 'I need to…please, I'm begging you….' She stiffles his long, drawn out moan with her mouth, capturing his lips, her tongue mimicking the movement of her body, as she relentlessly picks up the pace, feeling herself step closer and closer to the edge, until she falls headlong, collapsing on him under the force of her climax, his body buckling under hers and his harsh shout of pleasure resonating in her ears.

After a while she slides off him and snuggles up alongside him, encircled by his arm, her heart slowly calming down, the tremors of her orgasm slowly receding. He is stroking her hair, and his silence unnerves her. 'Harry' she whispers. 'Are you alright?'

He raises her chin up towards him and kisses her forehead. 'Yes', he murmurs. 'More than OK. Except for one thing.'

She tenses. 'What?'

He chuckles. 'Well. We're still lying on my desk and my back is killing me. I'm way too old for this.'

'Not if the last twenty minutes are anything to go by', she retorts. 'Come on, then, let's get up and get some diner before we go home.' But he shows no sign of wanting to move. 'Harry?'

'My back can take another couple of minutes', he mumbles. 'I just want to keep holding you for now.'

'You do realise that we're both half naked, on your desk, and that if someone catches us we're heading straight for the job centre?' She asks, only half-jokingly.

He shrugs. 'They wouldn't dare. They need us both too much. Besides...' He pauses fractionally, 'I'm still wearing my shirt, my waistcoat, and my tie. And you're still wearing your skirt and your boots. I reckon we're safe.'

She laughs freely, happily, loving his wry sense of humour – not often in evidence on the Grid. 'Come on. Let's go. I'm starving.'

As they rearrange their clothes, fully facing each other, her mood changes slowly, from carefree to thoughtful. He notices but doesn't say anything. Over diner, and later on the way to his home, her face takes on that distant expression which tells him that there's something on her mind. But he doesn't press her. He lets her go and have a bath while he feeds and walks Scarlett. He prepares for bed, feeling deliciously worn out, knowing that she will, sooner or later, share with him what seems to be bothering her. He lies down next to her, switches off the main light and holds her tightly when she snuggles up to him. But now he can feel the tension in her body. 'What's wrong?', he asks gently.

'Nothing. It's...it's nothing. Just tired, that's all.'

'Ruth.'

She makes a point of not looking at him. 'It's just....earlier. In your office.'

Ah. Now he knows, but he senses that he has to let her come at it in her own way, without rushing her. 'Yes?'

'You didn't think I was too...I mean, I've never done anything like this before.'

'Done what?', he asks patiently.

'You know...'

'Well. You clearly were not a virgin. So...'

'You're being unfair!', she blurts out, stung by his unwillingness to help her through her acute embarrassment. 'You know what I mean.'

He turns around towards her and faces her fully. 'I think I do. But I can't be sure unless you actually tell me.' He strokes her hair, her cheek, lovingly. 'I want you to feel that you can tell me anything. Besides...if we start behaving as if the other knows what we think...it's the fastest road to serious misunderstandings, believe me.'

She takes a deep breath, knowing he's right. 'I've never behaved that way before.' She pauses and adds, in a low, almost shamed voice. 'I feel as if I used you. Took from you.'

He rubs his head against hers. 'You only took what I was willing to give. Surely you know that. And God knows you gave back aplenty.' He lets her ponder this for a few moments. 'Ruth. Nothing you could ever do to me, with me, in bed, or on my desk for that matter, would make me respect you less or love you less', he says firmly. 'Do you understand?' He isn't convinced by her nod. 'Listen', he says more urgently this time. 'Tonight....tonight was amazing. And yes, it was intense, and hard, and fast...but to know that you feel this for me...you've no idea what that means to me, do you? I thought I had lost you foreover, Ruth. And when I imagined us together, it was always more....slow, tender, calm. Never that passionate. And I can't believe...' He stops, trying to dislodge the lump which suddenly found itself deep in his throat. 'I can't believe I found that passion with you. And I feel so lucky. So incredibly lucky.'

She looks at him properly at last, moved by the sheen of tears in his eyes. 'I feel the same', she chokes. He bends his head towards her and kisses her, lingeringly at first, then more deeply. As she responds to him, to his astonishment given their earlier lovemaking, he feels himself getting aroused. His breath quickens. 'I want you', he whispers. 'But I don't want you to feel pressured or...if it's too much too soon, we don't have to...'

She silences him with a kiss. 'I want you too', she murmurs.

Without hurrying, they undress each other, taking time to touch and stroke, hands and lips dancing their eternal steps, with no urgency but the profound certainty that they will get there together, giving and taking, in turns, until he enters her and slowly makes her his and lets himself be owned by her. Their ascent is long, slow, langorous, with none of their earlier frantic passion, but deeper, more tender, and when they reach the summit, at the same time, they hold rather than cling, and moan softly rather than shout. They regain their calm together, and fall asleep together, still almost joined. Together.