Disclaimer: I own nothing.

AN: Thank you to my lovely Beta RayOfTheDawn :) She's amazing.

After an undercover mission, somewhere in a very expensive hotel where they have to share a room ...

Her weariness was back and her shoulders slumped as if she was defeated.

"You're tired," he said. "Go sleep."

Liz stood up next to the bed and turned to look at it as if considering. "Is there only one bed?"

"Don't worry," Red said. "It's yours."

She reached for the zipper at the back of her dress. She was going to undress in front of him?

His heart slammed into his ribs. But the dress didn't come off. The zipper didn't even come down.

Liz bit her lip as she continued to tug. "It's stuck."

"Let me help you," Red said. Gripping her shoulders, he turned her back to him. Then he pushed aside her hair and fumbled with the zipper of her black dress.

"It's stuck," she said.

Fabric was caught in it. She would have dressed quickly that she'd caught the fabric.

He pulled it loose. Then he swallowed hard before pulling down the tab. Metal zipped as the teeth separated, baring a strip of skin that looked silky. That strip revealed the curve of her spine and the dimples at the base of it—on the rise of her butt.

His heart beat erratically—as if it were stopping and starting. He drew in an unsteady breath as the dress fell, sliding down her body. He wanted to close the distance between them. But he forced himself to step back.

"I'm...uh...I'm going to shower," Red said. And hopefully the water would be icy enough to cool the heat of his desire for her.

Liz turned toward him and stood there in just that black bra and panties. Maybe she was so tired she was befuddled, because she looked confused. And vulnerable.

Red backed away until he stepped through the doorway to the master bath. Then he closed that door between them.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Strong, wet arms wrapped tightly around Liz, lifting her off her feet and whirling her around to face a mad, naked Raymond Reddington.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

That was a damn good question —one she should have asked herself before she'd followed him into the bathroom. But that look on his face—that look she'd mistaken for longing and desire—had drawn her after him.

That look was replaced with anger now. "You shouldn't sneak up on me. I could have hurt you." He would hurt her. Eventually. She was certain of it because she was beginning to have feelings for the Concierge of Crime. And he obviously didn't return those feelings.

"Why'd you come in here?" he asked. "Did you need to use bathroomat this particular time?"

"I—I...I needed..." Him. She'd needed her coworker now. Her face heated with embarrassment over that need, but she couldn't admit it now, not in the face of his anger.

"What do you need?" he asked her. He stood before her gloriously naked, and she couldn't help but stare, her gaze skimming hungrily over every inch of him. As she watched, his body tensed and grew hard. His voice gruff with desire, he asked again, "What do you want?"

She'd been keeping this secret from him. But she couldn't lie about her feelings anymore. "You," she replied. "I want you. I need you." Desire swirled down into her belly in a slow, sinuous slide. Then Red stepped closer. Her eyes widened. Her pulse tripped over itself before racing off so fast it made her light-headed.

He carried her and she didn't protest. Her skin heated everywhere his skin touched. And then instead of just laying her down on the bed, he followed her down—his body covering hers while his mouth covered hers.

He kissed her passionately, as if he was as hungry for her as she was for him. His lips pressed against hers and his tongue delved inside her mouth, making love to it, like she wanted him to make love to her body.

She'd never felt such passion. Such need. Her arms clasped his back, her fingers skimming down his spine to his tight butt. She pulled him against her arching hips. His erection hardened and pulsed against her.

He groaned. "Lizzie, slow down..."

She nearly giggled. That was something she'd never been told before. Usually she was told that she went too slow, that she was too cautious. That was why there had been so few men in her life and even fewer in her bed.

He leaned his forehead against hers and drew in deep breaths. But she could feel his heart racing against hers. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

"Why?" she asked. "Why do I have to slow down?"

He kissed her lips again but it was a light, gentle kiss. "So we can make it last. So I can last..."

"It's okay if you don't," she assured him.

He shook his head. "No, it's not. I want you to enjoy this," he said, "every bit as much as I intend to."

She was enjoying it—every soft kiss. He moved from her lips to her chin and then down her throat. He flicked his tongue across her leaping pulse point. Then he nibbled on her collarbone.

While he'd told her to slow down, the man moved fast, removing her bra and panties before she even realized they were gone. She realized when he touched her there—first with his fingers tracing over the curves of her breasts before teasing the nipples. One hand moved lower, over her stomach to the small mound between her legs.

She squirmed beneath him as pressure built inside her. While his hands stroked her breasts and lower, his lips moved back to hers. The gentle kisses were gone as he kissed her more forcefully now.

Her hold on reality began to slip as he drove her crazy with those kisses and caresses. And she wanted him to descend to madness with her, so she touched him, too. She skimmed her palms over his chest and down his stomach until she could encircle him with her hands. It took both and still he protruded over the top.

He groaned into her mouth. "Lizzie"

"I'm not slowing down now," she protested. Not when the pressure building inside her was about to snap her in two. He stroked her again—deep—and she peaked. Panting for breath, she arched against him. But she wanted more than his touch. She wanted all of him, so she guided his erection inside her.

He thrust, sliding in and out of her, driving her to the brink of madness again as passion overwhelmed her. She'd never felt anything like this—such an intensity of desire and pleasure.

And such intimacy...

With him inside her, she felt so close to him—closer than she'd ever felt to another human being. He kept his mouth on hers, kissing her as deeply as he was driving inside her. And he kept touching her, running his hands all over her body as if he were trying to memorize every inch of her flesh.

Liz kept touching him, too, unable to stop touching him, unable to stop moving beneath him. She squirmed and arched. Then he reached between them and rubbed his thumb against the most sensitive part of her, and pleasure overwhelmed her again. She screamed his name as her body shook and shuddered with an orgasm more intense than any she'd ever felt before.

With a guttural groan of pleasure, Red joined her, his orgasm filling her. He settled his forehead against hers and stared deeply into her eyes.

And she hoped that he didn't see what that had meant to her. Everything.

She had just made love to the man she'd spent the past months hating. Making love with him was a betrayal of herself...

"This was a mistake," she murmured.

Red sucked in a breath as if she'd struck him. "I thought you wanted it."

"I did," Liz said. And she did again—even though he was still inside her. She wanted him. "But it complicates everything."

"Everything wasn't already complicated?" he asked. "With people trying to kill us all the time?"

"I was thinking more of our history," she said. Their complicated history.

And finally he pulled out of her.

She felt empty—more empty and alone than she'd ever felt.

He uttered a ragged sigh. "That's right. You hate me."

"Ah, hell," she murmured as she pushed him back onto the mattress. "I don't hate you. I wish I hated you..." But she was afraid that she was falling for him instead. She swung one leg across his lean hips to straddle him. "I want you..."

His hands caught her hips, his fingers digging into the flesh of her butt as he stilled her.

"I'm going to need a minute to recover."

Red lied. It didn't take him a full minute to recover. It took him much longer to reach his pleasure breaking point, though. So Liz was able to enjoy herself—setting her own pace as she slid up and down him and rocked back and forth.

Sweat beaded on his upper lip and the muscles in his arms and neck corded and pulsed. He waited until she peaked again, and then he thrust up, hard, and joined her in ecstasy.

She dropped onto his chest, so exhausted that she was boneless with sexual satisfaction. She'd never been so fulfilled or so exhausted. Feeling safe and secure in his arms, she easily fell asleep.

Red should have been tired. Exhausted now. But he couldn't close his eyes. He could not take his gaze off her. The woman he loved.

AN: And here is the first moment of love and "pepper" :) Hope you enjoy. The idea is create these little moments that make our mind travel. Reviews are always appreciated. Have a good Monday :)