Author's Note: I deeply apologize for letting this fic fall by the wayside. My smut muse had decided to go into hibernation(the first snowfall came over the weekend) but after I saw Secretary (which was an epic win of a movie), it has risen from the grave which is good because Mary and Marshall deserve a nice long naked part, at least 3 chapters.

After they're done, I'll be focusing more on the suitcase, Spanky, and I will be bringing in Eleanor. I like her character and I like her with Stan. Plus, I couldn't resist the challenge writing her and Mary's hateship.

Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"

He couldn't get enough of her.

Even after the earth shattering climax he had gone through, he was still hard, eager for more. Perfect couldn't even begin to describe her. She was exquisitely tight and silky soft, clinging to him like a glove. Her breathing was ragged yet soft, warm against his shoulder. After his heart stopped racing, he resumed his movements inside her, causing a long, loud moan to escape her.

"How…you're still…Jesus, Marshall…" she babbled as he bottomed out inside her over and over again.

"I'm not done with you, Mary." he replied before swiftly reversing their positions.

A little cry escaped her but she immediately placed two hands on his chest, willing and ready to ride him. She started slowly, gasping and whimpering with each connection but as she got comfortable, she went harder, faster. Electric sensations filled him and he gripped her hips for dear life, groaning with bliss.

"Oh my god…Marshall, I… oh! Ohh, fuck…"

He cried out in ecstatic pain as her walls convulsed around him, rippling faster and faster in prelude to her orgasm. Mary threw head back and screamed his name like a prayer, sobbing with ecstasy. He rolled them again and muffled her cries with kisses, pounding into her like a jackhammer.

She was delirious beneath him, her maize hair whipping as she tossed her head on his pillow. Her long, elegant fingers ran all over him, burning his skin and sending trails of sweats in their wake. Her eyes were a deep, sharp jade, wide and fevered. Her skin flushed fuchsia and Marshall forced her head still, making her look at him.

"I love you."

Her eyes flashed and she began to pant harder, faster, her moans crescendoing into choked cries as she came yet again.

Marshall growled deep in his chest and joined her in bliss, flooding her with his seed. He ground deep into her, fusing their chests together. He twined her fingers with hers and pinned her hands on either side of her head. She kissed him with smiling, open lips and he drank of her greedily.

She had ruined him. No other woman could compare…

As they stopped kissing, he slid out of her gently, sated for the time being. Mary yawned quietly and stretched fluidly. Marshall put her under the down duvet and joined her, tentatively putting an arm around her. Mary had never struck him as the cuddling type but he couldn't resist spooning her.

To his surprised delight, she pulled his arm over her flat abdomen, encouraging him.

"You can touch me if you want, Marshall. I don't care." she assured him tiredly.

"I thought that you didn't like to be touched."

"I don't but you're an exception. Be proud."

"I am.", he replied while sliding a hand down to her hip and subsequently, her ass.

Other than her inner fire and sharp mind, it was his favorite part of her. Many of his late night musings about her had focused on the sway of her hips, the feel of his hands cupping her. He was pleased to know that it really did fit perfectly in his hands.

His thumb traced over the mole there fondly and he could feel her smirk into the pillow.

"So, you have been ogling my ass. I thought it was just my inner crazy conspiracy theorist."

"No. Why else do you think I insist on having your back? It's for the view." he leered before swatting it hard.

The elbow to his side didn't stop his laughter for a second.