It had been hours since Demelza had sequestered herself in her bedroom and no one had come to find her, not even Jud. Faint voices were heard and people seemed to come and go downstairs in the living room, but she didn't have the energy to go to the window and find out who it was. It had been nice to be alone with her thoughts for a while, she'd been able to file and categorise them like she did with papers in court.

At first she'd thought it was his fault, that he was making the situation more complicated than it had to be by marking out so many differences between them. Opposites attract after all, right? But it wasn't as straightforward as that, thought Demelza, closing her eyes as she dragged her leg up slowly to form a pyramid on the bed with it. She picked at the bow of her dress and sighed. There was a bigger picture she hadn't appreciated, which Ross certainly did. As much as she wanted to think that he wasn't public property, he was.. Ross was a certain kind of guy, the kind of guy who sold papers, the kind of guy who generates news stories, the kind of guy who lights up a camera and who's trained in the art of bullshitting and talking a lot, but not really saying much.

She was a lawyer, everything in her world was backed up by proof and evidence and in her mind, the time she'd spent with Ross and his actions were evidence enough that he liked her. She chastised herself as she breathed in and out slowly, looking up at the moulding wooden beams on the roof; Dwight and Jinny had too often said that her work had become her life. Probably because she had no life, she lived alone with few friends and never visited the only family she had and she admitted that she'd become insular quite a while ago, but again, that wasn't her fault. Her father had pushed her away with his temper and drinking and she had no choice but to work 24/7.

Perhaps that was part of why she felt so special when Ross had shown interest in her. She didn't want to admit that she was that cheap or desperate, she had been with boyfriends before but no one had made her feel quite like Ross. He'd exposed her to a culture, an atmosphere that she'd only ever heard about and he'd never made out that he was better than her simply because he was rich. There was unpredictability and volatility with him, yes, but also an element of safeness about him, of solidity and reality, which contradicted directly with the silly fantasy she seemed to be living. As if he'd be acquitted and everything would flow easily from there, they'd live happily ever after. No Disney shit was going down here. Dwight was angry with her. Ross was angry with her. Everyone in her immediate vicinity was angry with her. She pulled out her phone.

Hi, Jinny.

She waited for a speech bubble to pop up, but none appeared and she set her phone down next to her. Maybe Dwight had already called and told her friend about what had happened. Maybe Jinny hated her too.

Are you okay?

Demelza sighed in relief as she saw Jinny's text and replied back quickly.

I don't know. I have no idea what's going on with me. Or with Ross. He hasn't talked to me much since we argued last night even though Francis admitted to murder. I don't want to say I told you so but I don't know how else to start the discussion.

Do you think it's wise for you to start the discussion? I love you, DeeDee, but this doesn't just affect you. His whole life is a shit storm right now. All eyes are on him and people will jump on a new drama, whatever it is. And what better drama than Ross dumping his perfect, fashion model, socialite girlfriend for his lawyer?

You don't make me sound very appealing.

I'm not saying you're not appealing but you're not Elizabeth Chynoweth, you don't have that star power paparazzi wants. People will be all up in Ross' face if he starts this new drama. They'll love him whatever happens, I mean they loved him when they thought he'd OD'ed his own dad. But are you really suited to his lifestyle?

Why wouldn't I be?

There was a silence from Jinny's end before the speech bubble came alive.

I don't need to tell you why you wouldn't be. He's not like you. He doesn't think like you, he didn't grow up like you, he has hardly anything in common with you. You've had a good time, that's great, but you need to come home now, wake up a little bit. You're wonderful and I love you and you can have an amazing, handsome bf but that's not Ross. He needs a girl who can dress up, go to parties, work the red carpet and involve herself in the way he lives. Someone who lives and breathes society and knows how to act.

Which I don't.

That was the last text Demelza sent before she locked her phone and sighed, scrunching her eyes shut. She couldn't relegate to the sidelines any of what Jinny had said, it was logical and she knew her friend had the best intentions for her, but she didn't want to hear that right now. She wasn't made to be with someone like Ross and she certainly knew she'd never seen her future with someone like him. She'd never met anyone like him, let alone thought about dating. Ross was an unexpected development, a plot twist in her life that she'd never seen coming. And she liked that.

Her back was numb from lying there for so long and she got up, looking out of the window. It was raining outside and she suddenly felt like time had stopped for a split second. She didn't quite know why, but her phone told her it was afternoon and it would be dark by the time they got to London. She set her packed bags by the door, opening it to check if people were still downstairs. She heard nothing and pulled the door open fully, poking her head out almost comically. Her room was clear apart from the dress that sat on her bed which she had intended to wear on the journey back home and she sighed, turning around to reach behind her and slip off her black court room dress, her back aching as she swept her hair to one side to find the zip.

Unbeknownst to her, Ross stood just outside, watching her change her clothes. She was matter of fact about it, folding up the black dress before slipping into a pretty red floral one, shoving her feet into red ballerina flats. He ran his eyes over her milky white skin, adoring the way her molten red hair clashed with the petal-white of her skin. A smile played at his lips as he watched her observe herself in the mirror awkwardly, smoothing out the dress over her thighs. She whipped her fiery curls into submission with an elastic band, tying them up in the same messy bun he'd loved when they'd cooked together in the kitchen downstairs. He always said he loved her hair down but when it was tied up like that, so effortless and untidy with thick coils of sunset red falling over face, tickling her neck like the deep twilight meeting the horizon, he almost preferred it.

By the time she'd made it downstairs, she couldn't find Ross. He wasn't instantly visible until she spied a plume of smoke rising slowly from a couch and turned around to see Ross splayed on it tiredly, his fingers nursing a cigarette which he lazily brought to his lips every now and then, tipping his head back on the cushion to exhale slowly, purposefully. He, too, had changed out of his court suit and was back in his uniform of black jeans and a black shirt, his black boots kicked up onto the end of the couch. He looked like he was going to a funeral but she regretted the thought as soon as it popped into her mind.

"Ready to go?"

She nodded and he got up slowly, walking upstairs to bring her bags down and set them next to his by the door. She stood uneasily in the living room, waiting for the car to arrive. They said their goodbyes to Jud who wished them both well and Ross insisted he come to visit in London soon. Ross stared out of the window and Demelza fidgeted with her fingers on her lap. She was unsure of what to say, she didn't want to mention the trial because that would anger him further, but any other conversation she would make would be about them and she couldn't pretend that everything was okay. Waiting for him to speak was hell itself and he seemed more than comfortable to stay quiet.

Verity joined them and took her seat in the helicopter. She made small talk and Ross replied, but stared out of the window absently again, like he didn't want to be present. Demelza did the same, but only to hide her trembling bottom lip and burning eyes as she remembered how pleasant the ride to Cornwall had been, how Ross had reached over to hold her hand, to tell her he was glad that she was his lawyer. He had admitted to her that he was scared and she had told him that she would do everything she could to make sure they won. What had changed since then?

"We have a few hours left," came Ross' rumbling voice, "you two should get some rest."

Verity agreed and promptly leaned against her seat to fall asleep. Demelza continued staring out of the window aimlessly, almost unaware that they were approaching ground. The lush green fields were visible underneath but she didn't really see them. Her mind wandered as they sat in the car, with Ross and the pilot transferring the luggage from plane to car. Verity paused as she looked over at Demelza in the seat next to her, frowning as she reached out to touch her hand.

"Demelza? Are you alright?"

The feeling of someone else touching her caused Demelza to jump in surprise and she gathered herself, turning to face Verity with a forced smile.

"Of course. Why?"

"You've just been very quiet for the whole journey," said Verity, looking down at her bag on her lap, "is anything the matter?"

"No, of course not….I just didn't know what to say," replied Demelza honestly, looking down at her own lap.

Verity smiled sourly and looked out of the window at the helipad, crossing her legs elegantly.

"He's a difficult man at the best of times. He never listens to anyone."

Demelza opened her mouth to reply, but wondered whether she was talking about Francis or someone else.

"I've only ever seen him listen to you."

A wash of realisation blew over Demelza as she turned her head to stare at Verity, who was still looking out of the window.

"What? Who do you mean?"

"Ross, of course," she murmured lazily, looking back at Demelza while she stretched a little, "he's difficult, he doesn't take well to being tamed."

Before she could reply, Ross sat in the driver's seat and sped off at a speed which made Demelza instantly sick.

"I'll drop you off home, Vee," he said shortly as they made their way into London.

Night in London had always felt like a special time to Demelza and she rather enjoyed the ride, despite her confused mental state. The street lights twinkled and the air was cold, odd for a summer night. London had a different vibe to Cornwall, to anywhere else in the UK and she loved calling it home. She wound the window down to breathe in the smoggy, polluted air and heard the familiar, rickety whine of an old tube train close by as they passed Hammersmith. Ross' breakneck speed meant that they were in South Kensington in no time and the car abruptly stopped outside a tall, white house cordoned off by spiky black railings. Verity and Ross got out and Demelza turned away from their private goodbye, acutely aware that she was the reason why Verity's brother was in prison. She wasn't much looking forward to having to sit in the car with Ross while he dropped her off home either.

"Wait, you're going the wrong way," she exclaimed, sitting forward to look around, "I live in Harrow, we're going in the opposite direction."

"I'm not taking you to Harrow. Your shit is still in my house, remember? Besides, I'm having a poker night at mine so I can't drive you anywhere. You take a taxi, or you wait till tomorrow."

His voice was matter of fact as he stared straight ahead, navigating the roads with ease. The harsh yellow of the street lights reflected glassily in his eyes and his eyebrows were set in a hard line, his jaw firm and stiff. Her eyes ran over his posture, how he was leaning back with one hand on the steering wheel, the light dusting of hair on his arm visible every time it appeared out of the shade. The strange, gnawing feeling in her stomach hadn't disappeared and she was feeling tired after the long journey. She knew she'd been static for most of the day but she wanted to sleep.

No response came from her as she dutifully decanted out of the car and into the house, taking her usual seat in the kitchen with all her papers as Ross brought in their luggage. The house was strangely cold and dark, and it didn't improve when Ross switched the lights on. The white, clean kitchen which Demelza had once thought modern and minimalist seemed cold and hollow now, even though she remembered how wonderful it had been to watch Ross cooking in it. How much had changed since they'd been in this house last, and only over a few days.

The usual rush and noise of London was dampened down during the night and Demelza barely heard a thing outside as Ross set up the living room for his poker night, walking up and down steps to find drinks and supplies. After he'd assembled all he'd need, he grabbed his suitcase and pulled out the necessary equipment for their other planned recreational activities that night while Demelza opened her files tiredly, running over the new notes Dwight had given her about the sentencing date and appeals. Her eyes were looking but again, not really seeing the words as they swam around wildly on the page until she heard a soft stomp of Ross' boots behind her. A quick check of her phone showed her that it was half past midnight and no friends were to be seen.

"Have they all forsaken you?" she asked, trying her hand at forced humour as she turned around.

Ross snorted as he took a sip of his whisky directly from the bottle, leaning against the doorframe to observe her. One hand was in his pocket while the other held the bottle and his stare was warm, but piercing. It gave her a strange feeling inside, as if she wasn't quite sure what was about to happen. He'd changed his appearance slightly, with a black denim shirt tied around his waist carelessly.

"They haven't forsaken me. I called the poker night off, I didn't feel like it."

His tone was the same lazy lilt she was used to, not the cold baritone she'd heard in the helicopter earlier. He was eyeing her over, up and down slowly and just his gaze made her shiver. His clothes were rumpled as he walked over slowly and leaned against the island, looking at her the same way.

"I was wrong to yell at you like that. You were trying to help me."

She wasn't quite prepared for an apology and subsequently didn't know what to say. It was suddenly colder than usual in the kitchen and her shoes made sandy scraping sounds on the tiled floor as she moved to face him, her hands fidgeting awkwardly in her lap. She twisted the red fabric of her dress around nervously. Ross was amused by this. She'd lost all of the confidence and assertiveness he'd seen this morning in court when she'd stood fiercely in front of Francis in all her legal garb. Her face was turned downwards now, she was staring at his boots as if she'd find something there. A breeze swept in and lifted the ends of her runaway curls, making them dance merrily against her cheek.

"Demelza, look at me. There's nothing for you to see down there, look at me."

She forced herself to look up, meeting his eyes reluctantly; the eyes she wanted to hide from because she knew every time she saw them, something different began to spark inside her and she didn't know how to face it. He watched her bite her rosy lips in anxiety and continued with his speech, pulling a single cigarette out of his pocket.

"I said some stupid, incredibly idiotic things that I shouldn't have said. I was angry and I know that's not an excuse. I know I upset you and I was a huge, A class, gold standard arsehole. I'd lie if I say I'm okay with what happened today in court. I'm not."

He pulled a lighter out of his pocket and tossed it at her, forcing her to let go of her dress to catch it. He held the cigarette in his lips and raised his eyebrows, motioning for her to come over and light him. Her legs felt unsteady as she got up and bridged the short gap between them, flicking the lighter a few times to check if it worked before holding it to the cigarette. The gravitational pull of his eyes was too much and she felt like it would be better just to concede, so she flicked her eyes up from the flame to his own. He blinked at her once, twice before inhaling deeply. She sat back down, setting the lighter on the table with a clink, looking back up at him as he exhaled slowly, the plume of smoke rising up towards the ceiling eerily in the dark.

"I don't like what happened today but it happened. It's the truth, it's justice and I can't argue with it. I do feel betrayed, but I've seen enough shit to believe it. And I've accepted it, I've moved on, I'm stable. Strangely, more stable than I think I've ever felt before."

"Closure can do that to you," she murmured quietly, slightly surprised by the maturity of his apology.

She'd always had him down as someone who would never apologise for anything even when he knew he'd done something wrong. She'd never seen him say sorry to anyone before.

"You weren't expecting that."

His voice was almost an extension of her thoughts and her eyes met his again. His stare was comforting now, almost soothing. She felt it wash over her skin slowly and she liked the way it felt.

"No, I wasn't…but thank you."

"I should thank you, you're the one who cleared my name and did everything you could to help me. I just didn't appreciate it."

"No, you didn't. And you smart assed George, which probably wasn't the best thing to do. All you've done is make my job harder," she said airily, getting up to make her way over to the cupboards. Ross stared at her in shock. He'd apologised, wasn't that enough?

"What? So I shouldn't have talked back to George, are you serious? Did you see how the fucker was looking at me in court, like I was a goddamn freak show or something?"

Demelza turned and raised her eyebrows at Ross' indignant tone.

"Whatever he was looking at you like, you should have kept a steady head. But then again, you're not prone to doing that, are you? You like your emotional, dramatic outbursts. Just have to be the centre of attention all the time," said Demelza, turning around to look in the fridge with a grin. She so loved antagonising Ross.

She could physically feel heat radiate from him as he walked over to accost her, his feet stamping moodily on the tiles. She turned from the fridge, closing the door with a dramatic sigh and faced him.

"What, now you're angry with me? Just because I said you're a self centered, arrogant little—"

"You know what, fuck you!"

"Fuck you too! You're too up yourself to—"

Her words were cut off by the abrupt feeling of Ross' mouth on hers and his body pressing her back into the fridge, his kiss deep and rough, almost savage in its bruising of her soft lips. Their breath came in pants as Ross pressed himself against her tight, taking kisses from her like her lips were oxygen and he was desperate to breathe. When they finally pulled away, Demelza stared up at him in barely concealed shock, still gasping for air as she leaned back against the fridge, swallowing and closing her eyes for a moment to steady herself. His hand was still on her lower back and he lifted his cigarette to his lips with his other hand, inhaling deeply. She was vaguely aware that he would have to breathe out the smoke somewhere and he opened his mouth to exhale. The smoke drifted out languidly and she watched in surprise as it flew upwards into his nose. He closed his eyes as if was enjoying the feeling.

"How did you….do that?" she asked, astounded as she leaned her head back against the fridge.

He smirked a little and took another drag, exhaling and allowing the smoke to linger for a few moments longer, slowly inhaling it through his nose again.

"It's called a French Inhale," he said, running his hand slowly down over her hip and back up again, "it burns your throat, but I like it."

"Can you teach me how to do it?" she asked cheekily, leaning in for another kiss, but he pressed his lips against hers, pausing to whisper against them something which made her shiver so violently she was unable to speak.

"I can teach you how to do a lot of things, Demelza. In fact, I think you need a few lessons."

She gripped his shirt tight, her breath leaving her body as she looked up at him, unsure of what to say. His gaze was unashamedly carnal now, running over her slowly, deliberately. He bit his own lip, running his tongue over it like he always did – a surefire way to make her feel those odd tingles inside. Without a word, he took her hand, stubbed his cigarette out on the island and walked upstairs with her, opening the door to his bedroom. He stripped his jacket off as she looked around, smiling at how warm the room seemed to be with the fire crackling busily and his dark purple satin sheets seeming more inviting somehow. The burnished wooden floor reflected the sunny yellow flames to bask the whole room in a warm, golden glow which was a welcome change from the cold, almost clinical dark of the kitchen downstairs.

She felt Ross' presence behind her, watching her take in his bedroom. She seemed happy now, like she'd forgotten much of what happened between them at Nampara. He'd apologised in the kitchen, but there was a lot that had been left unsaid about the things Ross had said about the two of them, and he was glad that she hadn't brought it up.

"I did say it was invitation only," he said with his usual grin, walking around her to warm his hands by the fire where Demelza joined him.

"How common is this invitation?" she ventured, sticking her hands out to feel the warmth of the flames against her numb skin too. His laugh was a short bark.

"Well, Jim's been in here, so in that respect, quite common."

She wanted to laugh, but a small smile was all she could manage. She was too preoccupied with what she knew was going to happen and especially with the conversation she'd just had with Ross downstairs. She did need to learn a few things, she wasn't the most experienced of people and evidently wasn't very good at being a professional, effortlessly sexy woman who guys wanted to be with, which seemed to be Ross' default if Elizabeth was anything to go by. Ross seemed to read her mind and turned to her, pulling her close to him by her hips.

"Our first time was a bit….rushed, shall we say. How about we take it a little slower this time?"

She nodded nervously, running her hands up his forearms to grip his biceps. He looked her over, a mischevious grin tickling his lips as he continued.

"I was serious about what I said downstairs. It's time I taught you a few things and something like that can't be rushed. What do you say?"

She nodded again, breathing out slowly as Ross observed her acutely, making sure she was okay before he pulled her closer. As soon as she melted into his kiss, the anxiety melted away too and all that mattered was how soft and warm his lips were on hers. The surrender was tangible, Ross felt her sink into him immediately, pressing against him like he was the only thing left in the world to hold on to. The kiss was different this time, it wasn't crushing or savage, but deep and almost possessive. He ran his hands over her fully this time, unhindered by a cigarette and his touch electrified her. A trail of fire burned wherever his hands moved and she knew what he meant by this, he was making it clear that she was his, at least for tonight.

Her feet lifted off the floor as Ross picked her up, holding her around his hips as he carried her to the bed, leaning over to lay her down, never once moving his lips from hers. They tasted too good, too sweet to forsake for even once second. The thought of breaking away to pull his shirt off was too much, but the sound of her panting was equally delightful to him and he could feel her rocking her hips upwards into his, her fingernails running sharply down the back of his neck as he spread her legs open to settle between them comfortably. The trail of tingling flames ran slowly down her neck as Ross replaced her lips with her skin, placing slow, purposeful kisses all over her neck until strangled moans escaped from her lips. He reached above to tug on the hair band he'd seen her use so deftly this morning, tossing it aside she shook her curls free. The fiery red streaks fell over her milky white skin in the way he loved so much, making her body look more inviting and perfect than he'd ever seen it, like an unfinished piece of art. A hand easily tugged at the bow of her dress, watching as it fell apart in one swift movement, exposing more of her warm, creamy skin.

Her breath felt like it was coming too fast as Ross' gaze ran appreciatively over her and she felt it this time, moving over her body hungrily like his hands would and there was nowhere to hide now. He reached up to pull his own shirt off by the neck, tossing it aside dismissively without breaking eye contact, falling forward to brace himself either side of her head. The pendants on his chain fell heavily between her breasts, making her shudder at such a simple contact.

"I know I'm here to teach you, but I can't do that without the necessary resources," he said, as if he was really her professor, but the corners of his mouth turned up slyly, "and for that, I need you to cooperate. It's a two way process."

Her brain swam in confusion and she could make no sense of what he was saying until she felt his lips at her ear, whispering in the deep, low, husky voice he had before, sending throbbing warmth flushing through her.

"Let me teach you how to be good for me."

An undisguised moan left her lips at that, her entire body responding as it curved upwards instinctively, meeting his. He growled a little at the contact of her soft skin against his, her nipples brushing lightly against the smattering of hair on his chest. He liked her response, running his hand slowly down the side of her body as he felt her arch up into him. The silk of her skin slipped under his hands until she felt his fingers between her legs and settled for kissing him until the warmth that flooded her body overpowered her voice. He dipped in and out of her teasingly, making her roll her hips up and down to search for his fingers, whining keenly when she didn't find them.

"No, Ross, you can't do that," she whispered with a frown, reaching down to guide his fingers back inside her, but he stopped, pulling her hand away to rest at her side.

"Rule number one," he said in the same low baritone, his eyes sparkling, "I decide when to give you what you want."

She gritted her teeth in frustration at the sly look on Ross' face, tossing her head back as she tried desperately to move her hips closer to his hand. He took the opportunity to taste her neck again, caressing it slowly with his tongue until she moaned quietly, her hands winding into his hair. Taking advantage of her temporarily lulled state, he bit her neck lightly, making her cry out as she felt his fingers deep inside her, his thumb working just above and it wasn't slow this time, it wasn't teasing or testing. She didn't need to place her hand on top of his and instead, he felt them clawing at his back desperately. She heard the hiss in his ear as she ran her fingernails over the top of his back which hadn't fully recovered from a few days before, but it was worth it to see her pursuing her pleasure with such abandon and he thought he'd never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. He hadn't had enough time before to fully appreciate how good she looked but now he had all the time in the world; she was in his arms, his house, his bed for as long as he wanted.

The fire flooded higher and higher up her body as his fingers worked deeper. It felt like her whole body was burning with the heat of it and her own pants were alien to her ears until Ross leaned down to murmur in her ear.

"You sound so fucking good….but I want you to say my name, Demelza. You're going come for me and you're going to say my name when you do."

It wasn't a statement, it wasn't a question, it was an order. And the thought of it sent a fresh flush between her legs as Ross bit her neck, licking and kissing frantically over and over, his moans reverberating over her chest, but when she felt the warmth wash over her uncontrollably, he lifted his head to look at her. This was what he'd wanted to see for so long and he couldn't stop his jaw from dropping slightly as he watched her pant his name before crying out louder than he'd ever heard, her head tossed back as she raked her nails down his upper arms hard enough to leave marks. It lasted for what seemed like minutes and he finally relaxed his hand, holding her to him as she slumped back on the bed tiredly, her eyelids fluttering as they exchanged kisses.

"You're so fucking beautiful."

She smiled as she heard him whisper in her ear, his nose nuzzling her neck lovingly as he ran his hands soothingly over her body which was still shaking a little. A laugh escaped her lips as she turned her head to face him and saw him watching her lazily. It made her smile.

"You like looking at me, don't you?"

He nodded and absently ran his hand over her hip and back up again.

"Maybe I'm looking for something."

She didn't know what to say to that, but it added to the warm glow she felt inside as she rested her head down on his shoulder. His chest rose and fell with every breath and she ran her hands softly over the light dusting of hair, coarse and rough under her hands. That was when she realised he still had his jeans on and looked up at him with a grin.

"You're not completely undressed like I am, that's not fair."

He pretended to sigh and got up, kneeling on the bed to unbuckle his belt. She was mesmerised for some reason as he pulled the strap slowly out of the buckle, but she reached a hand out to stop him. The corner of his mouth turned up as she unbuttoned his jeans, pulling the zip down with an odd metal scrape that filled the room, but once she'd done that, she didn't know what to do. Her hands felt cold all of a sudden and she paused, biting her lip as she looked up at him.

"Let's leave that there for the time being," he suggested with a smirk, moving back down to kiss her softly, enjoying the feeling of her soft, warm skin against his as he slipped his hand under her body, pulling her up even tighter into him. 'Mmmmm's escaped his lips as he buried his face in her neck, finally getting the time to explore her properly. A loud gasp was dragged from her as she felt his tongue on her nipples, sucking and swirling and even biting softly, made even more torturous by his soft blowing across her wet nipples, making her arch automatically up towards him. Her head was spinning with the feeling of his mouth and hands on her and she was questioning whether it could get any better until she heard buzzing from the side of the bed. Trying to sit up, she was pushed back down by a man with a very wicked smile.

"But, Ross! It could be Mr Enys!" she said in protest, reaching over for her phone, but he tossed it out of her reach onto a rug.

"Dwight can wait. We're in the middle of a very important lesson right now."

She couldn't help a giggle as Ross crawled up the bed again, meeting her mouth with his, his tongue coaxing hers slowly, deeply until she was unable to breathe, her hands running over his back to feel his muscles shifting as he reached down to spread her legs open comfortably. The raised lines from her scratches were instantly tangible under her palms, but his skin was smooth otherwise, heated and constantly moving under her hands. Most of all, the relaxation and laziness she felt when he kissed her was something she wasn't used to, especially when it was coupled with a mixed feeling of heightened alertness, acutely aware that his touch made her entire body feel heavenly. She'd never felt so fully relaxed in her life, nor had she ever agreed with doing what anyone told her. But Ross was full of possession, he ran his palms firmly over her when he touched her, cupped her face with his hand and pulled her up to meet him when he kissed her, instructed her with a voice so low only she could hear. And she loved it, she loved the feeling it sparked inside her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Ross' fingers teasingly dancing between her legs again, igniting the same flame that had barely dimmed moments before. Between kisses, she reached down to guide his fingers deeper like before, but he pulled his hand away, using it instead to pull off his own jeans distractedly, never once moving his gaze away from her body. She looked so good under him, but he wanted to make her look as good as she had just then.

The only sound audible to him were her frustrated pants as her hips rocked upwards into his but he pressed her down into the bed with his body, grinding his hips slowly down into hers in response. He felt her entire body melt into his, her hands tightening on his back as she moaned loudly at the pure feeling of his hips tight against hers. He bit her lip hungrily as he slipped his hand down to pull her tighter against him, grinding slowly, deliberately against her.

"How does it feel when I do that?" he whispered into her ear, biting her earlobe too as she pressed kisses all over his shoulder, holding her to him.

She wasn't able to explain how good it felt to feel him so close to such an intimate part of her and only moaned in response, reaching down between them to touch herself, but brushing against him instead. The initial, unexpected contact made him growl against her ear and she didn't know why or where any of this courage came from, but she pulled back to look at him, exchanging a gaze that she hoped said more than any awkward phrase that would come out of her mouth.

"Both hands, up and down….slowly," he murmured instructively, locking eyes with her.

She bit her lip and did as he said. It felt strangely sensual to touch him like this and he felt different that she'd imagined. Her gaze wandered down between them, wanting to see how big he felt in her hands, but his voice was sharp and deep.

"Look at me, Demelza. Don't look away…..fuck…."

The last word was a cross between a growl and a whisper and he scrunched his eyes shut, moving his hips to work with her hands stroking up and down his length. It had been torment enough to keep his jeans on but this was too much. She kept her eyes on him as he'd ordered her to, her own body tingling with the idea that she could make him feel this way. Without his instruction, she moved her hands lower to explore even more of him, making him groan roughly against her lips, kissing her to try and stifle the sounds coming out of his mouth. Her hands worked faster on him and her bit her bottom lip, making her gasp a little.

"Inside me," she whispered desperately, unable to speak properly as she moved up against him, "inside me, Ross, please….."

At this, he reached down to pull her hands away from him, using his own to run himself slowly up and down the fresh wetness between her legs. His arm at her head ached from holding himself up above her, but he didn't care about anything other than Demelza and he felt he never could. She whined in desperation, reaching down for what felt like the twentieth time to pull him closer, but he grabbed her hand deftly, lacing his fingers with hers and pinning it down on the bed instead.

"Rule number one, remember?" he asked breathlessly, his own body covered in a thin sheen of sweat, "I decide when to give you what you want."

Her growl of frustration filled the entire room as she rocked her hips desperately, hoping that he would concede, her hand tugging at the chain around his neck to pull him in for a kiss. This time, her tongue moved against his urgently and he loved the feeling of her moving so perfectly under him. He was desperate to be inside her too, but he wouldn't let it show, at least not physically.

"Please, Ross, please," she begged in a repeated whisper, finding a rhythm against him, "please, Ross, I need it, I need it, Ross…"

His mouth turned up in satisfaction at the sound of that, pulling back to run his tongue over his lips, biting them as he dragged her eyes to his, holding her stare again.

"I want to watch you take me."

Demelza didn't even have time to react to how good she felt when he said that to her, and Ross loved it. He couldn't focus on how good it felt to be inside her because watching her felt even better, her pale skin in stark contrast to the dark sheets, her mouth open in a soundless gasp. Her entire body reacted to him and he wasn't slow this time, he was panting and urgent and passionate, met with her clawing nails on his back. Vibrations from his low, deep growls travelled over her body and her own moans were stifled by a kiss she never wanted to break from. Her hands slipped up his arms, over his warm skin covered in sweat as the bed shook underneath her and she wasn't aware her own voice could be so loud, though that was what Ross wanted. Her cries emboldened him as he pulled her hips closer to his on the bed, positioning himself to move deeper inside her, their breath mingling hotly, Demelza's hand tight on the chain around his neck to stop him pulling away.

"Mine….." he whispered, leaning down to ghost his lips over her neck, "mine, mine, mine…."

It took her moment to understand what he was saying and when she did, she kissed him deeply, pressing herself up into him to let him know that even though she couldn't speak, she wanted what he wanted. The flames that he'd fanned with his words rose higher and higher and Ross pulled back to look down at her, drinking her in one last time as he felt her convulse around him.

"Now, honey, now, do it for me now."

He bit his lip hard as he watched her, his words coming out between pants. He'd missed the chance last time and he knew she was so close, her hair tossed out wildly on the pillow, her body flushed a deep shade of pink, her fingers sinking into his arms as she rose up and pulled him down to kiss her. He held her hips to his roughly, burying himself deep one last time, feeling her around him so perfectly, like she was made for him. The contours of her body fit into his hands seamlessly even as she trembled, barely able to choke out his name. They stayed like that for some time, joined together, warm and sated, brushing their lips together ever so often as they breathed freely. The echoes of pleasure rippling through Demelza's body took time to subside and when she laid her head down on Ross' chest, tangling her fingers into the wiry hair she found there as his own chest rose and fell deeply.

He'd never felt fully sated after sex, never that affected by it and he was reluctant to admit that this was different. His eyes closed as he ran his hand over his face, wiping away the sweat, pushing his hair back as Demelza shifted on his chest, rubbing it up and down slowly, calmly until he felt happy, somehow. Their communication was wordless, but that was the way Ross liked it and she felt heavy on his chest, leading him to believe she'd fallen asleep already. She seemed immune to the environment around her as he slowly stroked her back, her skin like warm velvet under his hand, her hair tickling his neck.

He was dragged out of his thoughts by a loud buzzing that filled the room and he quickly picked up his phone, swiping tiredly to see who had been bothering them so incessantly. His eyes widened as he saw 12 notifications on his WhatsApp, opening it up to see Elizabeth's stream of texts, which began and ended with a picture of the Metro's front page. Messages all in caps filled the screen as he scrolled and he could almost feel her standing next to him yelling. He sighed and set the phone aside, running his hand over his face again, wondering how and when he should speak to Elizabeth and what exactly he should say to her. He didn't even know where to begin, or what the papers would make of it, especially if Elizabeth went to them first.

Demelza, however, was oblivious to the storm gathering in Ross' mind. She was awake but very still, staring across the room at the bathroom door. The warm feeling hadn't completely subsided, but it was mixed with a dull ache, which she was familiar with from before. But the ache brought with it reality and all the horrid things associated with it. Ross was right, Cornwall had been a little bubble and now they were back in London, it was the real world. She couldn't deny that what she'd just shared with Ross had been wonderful, perfect, special, possibly the best sex she'd ever had and definitely the most turned on she'd ever been. But the real world was different, and it wasn't just Ross and Demelza, but they were a big part of it. He'd apologised for the things he'd said back in Nampara, but was an apology really enough? He'd said sorry for shouting at her, but what about the things he'd said about them not working, being so different? These thoughts had swam around her head when she'd spoken to Jinny this morning and her friend had only reiterated her worst fears.

"Ross?"

He looked down at her in surprise. He hadn't expected her to be awake, but he settled his hand under his head and looked up at the bed's canopy, yawning quietly.

"Yes?"

She sat up and picked up her dress underneath her on the bed, getting back into it and tying the bow slowly before turning to him. Her eyes were tired and red, but her jaw was set in hard determination.

"You can't do this to me. You can't do this, have sex with me, make me feel special after you fucked me over."

Her voice was matter of fact and Ross sat up in confusion, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew what was coming.

"What the….Demelza, I apologised, I said I was sorry. I know you were trying to help me, what else do you want me to say?" he asked quietly, locking eyes with her.

"You apologised for getting mad about me suggesting Francis, you never apologised for saying that I was sick and twisted and that I was being selfish. You never said sorry for saying that I want to chain you to me or that we're too different to work together."

Her voice was a cold and bitter now, rising over the crackling of the fireplace, ripping through the warm, quiet atmosphere they'd carefully constructed, reverberating in his ears like cymbals crashing. A red flush blossomed over her face and she was close to crying as she forcibly recounted all the things she remembered from that night in Nampara. She looked at Ross for a reaction, but got none. He was thinking it over too, recalling how harsh he had been to her, how he had pointed out the stark differences between them and why they wouldn't be good together.

"There was truth in that, though, Demelza," he murmured quietly, looking at her, "you did want to keep me all to yourself and I can be with you, but I need you to know that this isn't a romantic movie, you can't own me and I can't own you, that's not how I work."

She wanted to laugh now, but suddenly felt very, very stupid. The bed felt too hot, too sticky and humid and she got up, tying her hair back up as she looked down at him.

"Then why did you tell me over and over that I'm yours if you can't be mine? Do you think it's funny? Do you think this is all a game? Yell at her one night, fuck her the other night, it doesn't matter, she'll be happy either way!"

Ross felt the urge to laugh at Demelza's toff-inspired impression of him, but he knew this wasn't the time. She had misunderstood him. Perhaps he was a hypocrite – in fact, he was a huge hypocrite, but Demelza knew him better than that.

"Demelza, that's not how I feel about you. I just…..say things in the heat of the moment, you know what I'm like."

"The heat of the moment? Which moment? This one, or the yelling session we had? Were you lying now, or then? Either way, it doesn't make much difference. You can't tell me that we don't fit together and walk out on me, then turn on the charm when it suits you and expect that I'll come running back like a lost puppy. I'm a lawyer, Ross, and no matter how hard my career just got fucked up the ass because of you, I have spent my entire life working day in, day out to excel, succeed and be the best I can be, and you know what that requires?" she stated, picking up her phone from the rug as she turned around, "Self belief. Confidence. Indestructibility. The idea that no one can fuck with you or your emotions without having their ass dragged."

"Demelza—"

"You've been the exception. I let you fuck with me because you were something I'd never seen before in my life and I was taken in by it all, but you cannot treat me like this, you cannot cut me off when you feel like it and string me along when you feel like it. No more you say jump, I say how high. You're not that important, Ross Poldark. You might have paparazzi at your door and people watching your every move and the entire population of planet Earth following you on Instagram, but you are not the centre of the world and you'd do well to remember that."

With that, she stamped out of the bedroom and slammed the door hard behind her. She wanted to show him that he wasn't the only one who could do temper tantrums, she could match him scream for scream. Sex wasn't magic, it couldn't fix anything, it could barely even put a plaster on the can of worms Ross had opened in Nampara. As good as Ross had felt on her, inside her, it was nothing compared to how deficient she had come to feel after their argument.

The entire room echoed with the force of the door and Ross stared speechlessly at where Demelza had just been. Not half an hour ago, they'd been joined together so intimately, exploring the depths of pleasure with each other, an experience that Ross had never had with anyone else he'd slept with. Now his girlfriend was on his case, the media wanted to shaft him royally and Demelza was mad at him for things that were his fault, but he didn't really know how to apologise for. He closed his eyes and fell back onto the bed, his head hitting the pillow with a thump. The sheets were suddenly colder now that Demelza had left and her words still echoed in his ears like a building crashing down around him. She was right, he knew she was right, he was an entitled, egoistic bastard, but he'd never been anything else. And people had always accepted his emotional manipulation, glorified it, even. And he'd never, ever learned how to say sorry.