Disclaimer: I don't own them.
Their personalities were dramatic opposites, and it showed through their rough, power hungry, sex - one of them burning hot and intimidating, the other cold as ice, inside and out. They would meld together, whether through a tedious quarrel or a mind blowing orgasm, and melt into one another until fire burned ice and they were both turned to liquid. In this state, they would swim around eachother, dodging questions with their eyes, breathing heavily, until one of them would simply turn and flow away.
They never talked about it. Talking about it made it real, and making it real would only mean having to change it. Neither would admit that if they looked past all the need and ache and overwhelming, soul scorching, desire they would see feelings and emotions and the desperate need to feel beautiful. No words were said, no names whispered in the heat of passion, though on more than one occasion they would dance on the tips of eachothers tongues, teasing and tumbling until they almost slipped. The only sounds that filled the heavy, charged, air were those of heavy breathing and the 'thump thump thump' of Greenlee's back slamming into the filing cabinet in the Fusion stock room.
Her back was covered in bruises, and that certainly wasn't the only place her flawless skin had been marred by their actions. The nape of her neck, her collar bone, her chest, ribs, thigs, all of them were beaten and battered and so deliciously sore that she moaned with every light touch of Kendall's fingers to her sweaty skin. Scratch marks were shockingly red against the silky skin of her abdomen, spanning long and deep all the way down to the apex of her thighs were Kendall's hands seemed to wander instinctively. She would have to wear pants and sweaters for weeks after this, but the sound of Kendall's breath in her ear and the way her skin hummed to life as sticky fingers slid inside of her was definitely worth a fashion don't or two.
For a few precious minutes, everything in the world burned away, leaving only the two of them, panting and writhing together in the confined darkness of a dusty storage room. In the time between the click of the lock and the hurried scamper to find their discarded clothes, Kendall Hart and Greenlee Smythe had eachother. Here in the shadows, kept away from prying eyes and worried husbands, they almost loved eachother.