Authors Note: Thanks again to hoellenwauwau and starclipper01 for following this story and keeping me motivated. Feeling oddly embarrassed about posting this chapter, but hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 3

Anderson didn't even want to think about how late it was or how long she'd worked by the time she got home. She closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief, dumping her helmet on the table by the door and tugging her boots off, they were caked in mud and blood which she didn't want to track through the thin carpet. She picked them up and carried them to the bedroom where she dropped them into the decontamination closet. She pulled her jacket off wearily and then struggled with her pants until everything was being decontaminated and she was able to step into the shower.

The hot water felt so good on her battered body and she closed her eyes and sighed. It had been such a long week and had finished with one of the longest shifts. As she started to lather shampoo into her hair she felt like she was washing weeks worth of grime out. The water that swirled down the drain was gritty and tinged with pink. The bullet wound had been stapled together and it pulled uncomfortably on her thigh, although the meds she'd been given by the medics had taken the edge off.

She stayed under the water almost until it ran cold, when she was interrupted by a knock at the door. She groaned, it was the middle of the night and no one ever visited her anyway. When the knocking continued she hastily threw on a vest and shorts and went to answer the door, tousling her blonde hair dry as she crossed the small apartment bare footed and still dripping shower water. She sensed the urgency of the man behind it, and it made her tired fingers fumble as she unbolted the strong metal door.

Dredd pushed the door aside as she stepped back to allow him entry, half dressed, the way she'd left him, in that tight black tee shirt and uniform leather pants, his left arm encased in a plasti-cast up to the elbow, helmetless but with his face obscured by shadow.

He didn't say anything but grabbed her, his hands clasping her bare biceps as he drew her into him and kissed her roughly. She was stunned by the action, the feel of his soft lips and scratchy stubble against her skin, the way he sucked on her lower lip and pushed for entry to her mouth with his hot tongue. She staggered backward but he went with her until she had her back pressed up against the wall and he was pinning her there, his knee resting firmly between her thighs, the leather grinding against her bare skin.

She pulled out of the hungry kiss with a gasp, "What are you doing?" This was so unlike him she didn't know where to begin.

"I want you." He growled, grinding his leg into her groin, igniting a warmth there that she'd always tried hard to ignore.

"We can't. What about the code? This isn't like you?" The door had been left wide open, anyone walking down the corridor would be able to see them, she realised with embarrassment.

"Fuck the code. I almost died today, again. How long do I have to keep denying myself what I really want?" And as his lips fell upon her again his rough calloused hand slipped over her hip and beneath the waistband of her shorts. His fingers teased at the elastic at first, the pad of his thumb finding the scar on her stomach, the bullet wound he'd patched up for her at Peach Trees. She had other scars now, but none would be quite so memorable as that. Unsure what to do with her own hands, she placed them on his shoulders, telling herself it was to push him away but she felt the muscles rippling beneath them, tensed with need and as his fingers dipped lower she found herself pulling him in closer to her instead.

His fingers slipped down, tracing the line of the top of her thigh until they brushed lightly across her tight bundle of nerves between her legs. Anderson let out a groan as he started to stroke her. She could feel a heat pooling in her, her breathing deepened and she could feel Dredd's breathing deepen too, his chest heaving with need. When his fingers slipped inside her, first one, then joined by a second, she was slick with her own wetness. He pulled his fingers out and swirled the sticky fluid around her clit, before plunging his fingers back in again, stroking at her pussy walls.

With his other hand he tugged down her shorts and broke the kiss long enough to pull her vest over her head. She hadn't had time to put on underwear, so now she was stood naked, pushed against the wall with a man's fingers inside her. She thought about this scenario a lot, had even played with herself to it on lonely nights when she couldn't sleep, but she was also a judge, had been taught since she was eight years old the importance of not giving in to her carnal urges and thus far had never strayed from that. She felt exposed and uncomfortable, she really wished he'd closed the door.

In a moment of panic she moved to push him away. He stepped back to look at her but didn't move his hand from where it gently teased, by turns stroking her clit and dipping into her hot pussy, smearing her juices over the sensitive nerves. She found herself needing to even the odds, so she tugged at his tee shirt, pulling it over his head and exposing a muscled torso, littered with scars of his own. He had to stop touching her to get the shirt off and she found the brief lack of contact gave her a pang of frustration, so that when his fingers returned she moaned again.

With his other hand he was working the belt on his leather pants, but with his hand in the cast he was struggling. Her hands moved to his belt and tugged it open. Her hand felt clumsy and inexperienced on the zip but she got it open and slipped his pants and boxers off his hips, exposing his throbbing member, the leather catching against his thighs. She gasped, it was big and she suddenly worried it would be too big for her, but as he continued to work her slick pussy with his hand, she found she didn't care. She touched it tentatively, running a finger along the head and feeling it twitch beneath her touch, leaking with precum.

Suddenly he grabbed her, with both hands on her hips and lifted her into the air with an effortless strength, settling her against his chest. Her clit ground against his abs with a burning need and she could feel him twitching at her entrance. Slowly, careful of his size, he sank her down onto his cock until he was all the way in, stretching her to his girth, they both let out moans of need.

He held her there, away from the wall now, keeping her in place with his superior strength as she adjusted to the feel of him inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped his shoulders. Then ever so slowly he began to move her, sliding her up and down on his thick shaft. Her breathing hitched and her legs turned to jelly as the heat inside her built. He kept her wrapped around his cock as he moved, first closing the door with a slam and then striding into her small bedroom.

He lifted her off then and threw her onto the bed. As she bounced into the mattress he divested himself of the last of his clothes and then knelt on the end of the bed. He caught her by her ankles and dragged her towards him until he had his head between her legs, forcing her thighs apart with his hands. He licked, a long slow lap between her legs and as the tip of his tongue reached her clit he sucked it causing her to scream.

Her breathing got more rapid as he continued to lick and suck at her clit, adding fingers to work her pussy, by turns fast and hard with agonisingly slow. She closed her eyes and lay back, her body trembling and the heat building in a way she'd never managed to do for herself. When she came it was like a wave crashing over her, she bucked violently and let out a moan, the force of the feeling making her light headed and yet still he continued sucking and teasing, lapping up her juices until she was almost hysterical with the overwhelming sensation. He looked up at her, her cum glistening on his mouth in the dim light and their eyes met before he climbed his way onto the bed and plunged himself inside her.

She gasped as Dredd filled her with himself. Gone was the gentleness he'd shown earlier, now he was aggressive with his own need, pinning her hands above her head with one hand as he kneaded a breast with the other, taking a teat in his mouth and sucking as he found his rhythm and moved inside her. He was so big, and she was so inexperienced, that pain flared every time he slammed inside her, making her think that he'd be capable of ripping her in two with just his cock. But alongside the pain was a building pleasure and she found her breath hitching and the pressure building as she reached another orgasm. He grabbed a leg and slung it over his shoulder, changing the angle and managing to penetrate even further, hitting that sweet spot deep inside her with every move.

This time, as her body bucked and muscles clenched she could feel her pussy tighten around his cock, he let out a groan of his own and gave a few more thrusts before his body tensed and he let out a shuddering breath, thick, hot liquid spurting into her pussy. He lay on top of her, completely drained, propping himself up on his forearms to prevent himself from crushing her. She could feel his chest pressed against her bare breasts, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest.

She felt his emotions wash over her, a sense of calmness and contentedness that she'd never associated with the surly judge before. She looked into his eyes and traced a finger down the scar on his face looking into the projections from his mind, needing to know what had brought such a change in the man. But when she sensed it she recoiled in horror, "You're not Dredd are you?" As soon as the words left her mouth, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed heavily on top of her.

Suddenly frantic, she scrambled out from under him and raced to the other room to hastily retrieve her vest and shorts. She pulled them on, her legs and hands shaking, and not just because of the exertion. "Shit!" She cursed to herself, how had she not seen it before? She asked herself, already knowing the answer. Because you wanted so damn much for it to be true.

She considered her options, her fight or flight reflexes dominating, but she knew there was more to it than that. Tentatively she sought out his mind, knowing he wouldn't be happy if he found out she was reading it. This time, although he was buried deeper, a consequence of the unconsciousness, she found who she was looking for, that familiar anger combined with a fight for his usual control. Certain Dredd was himself now she pushed him into the recovery position and covered him with a blanket. Satisfied that he was breathing properly she went to shower again to wash the stickiness from between her thighs. When she was clean she got dressed again, managing to find underwear as well this time, and sat perched on the corner of her bed, her back against the headboard while she watched the man worriedly for any sign of him coming to.