AN: I'd like to take a moment to tell you how much I value and love every comment and review and tweet I receive; I can hardly keep up with responding to your lovely reviews because the bit of free time I have, I try to pour into more writing, but please know that they are so very appreciated. Every time my email account pings with a review, my heart does a little happy flip, and reading your words makes me smile the way I hope my story makes you smile. Thank you!


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Window 10: The Sweetest Gift

His fingers are icy against the warm skin of her back, his palms bracketing her waist in a vice grip underneath her thick sweater and she shivers, goose bumps of pleasure spreading over her skin. The tips of his fingers dig into her spine, arching her higher against his chest. His lips drive over hers in heated thrusts, swollen and urgent as he devours her, claiming her with the thick intrusion of his tongue and she lets him, lets him have her, neck bent back, fingers dug into the giving flesh of his shoulders.

The flaps of her wool coat hang wide at her sides, the buttons ripped open by his frantic hands before he pressed her against the frigid brick wall, his broad body guarding her from the icy wind that whips and howls around them, the smattering of snow crystals that whirl haphazardly through the air, frosty droplets that land on her nose, his cheek, her neck. She climbs his body, the thigh that's wedged tightly between the vee of her legs, the delicious pressure spreading heat through her limbs like wildfire as she rocks over him, wild and desperate.

He growls, tightening the muscles in his leg against her, making her tremble with the raw force onto her sensitized nerves; he groans into her mouth, dark forlorn sounds that ripple into her, through her, almost successful at replacing the echo of the gunshot that still rings in her ears, the wail of her name on his lips as he spun around, eyes widened in wretched terror as he tackled her to the ground just as the bullet whisked by where she had stood a split second ago.

She can taste the fear in his mouth still, a bitter, desperate flavor so she bites his bottom lip instead, soothes the nip with the swirl of her tongue. He grunts, grips her harder over the flexed steel of his leg, sliding his hand up her ribcage, his cool palm a shattering contrast to the flush of her skin. His fingers find the raised peak of her breast and he tweaks, circles, rolls her nipple through the fabric, rapid, unrelenting, the lace of the bra almost harsh against her sensitized skin. The pleasure shoots deep, spreads through her blood in scorching waves, coils deep in her abdomen.

She bands her arm around his torso, the other hand clamped over the back of his neck, grasping for leverage, clinging to the broad strength of him, the man who saved her yet again, who loves her, the man who's hanging on to her with dark desperation. A sound like a sob gushes from her throat as she pushes onto him, her nerves sandwiched to the heat and strength of his leg, the column of her neck arched back into the cold of the evening, exposed to the blistering, wet suction of his lips. The sound echoes through the silence, loud as it bounces between the walls of the alley. She drops her face to the crook of his neck, wet lips pressed over the fuzzy fabric of his winter coat; her breathy moans muffled while her hips undulate inexorably, mercilessly, so far gone already that she can't stop, can't stop.

"Kate," he murmurs, a yearning like sadness in his voice and she stills at the resonance, lifts her head to look at him. His eyes glitter, sharp like black diamonds, haunted by dark, suppressed fear while his grip on her hip is firm, his hand guiding her, rocking her pelvis over him, slow and tight, the move so concentrated that the pleasure pierces through her like spears of fire.

"Let me hear you," he growls, a low, anxious plea while he pushes her hard onto his leg, over and over. "Let go for me," he implores, each word dripping with frantic need that grips and squeezes her heart. "I need to hear you, see you." He pinches her nipple, circles rhythmically, soothingly, before he tweaks it once more and she yelps, squirms through the burst of wet heat that pools low in her middle.

"I need to feel it so I know you're still alive."

She groans into the dark night, her head falling back as her hips find the rhythm her body is weeping for, a fast undulation over the thick, muscled circumference of his thigh, the pressure tightening her muscles, her moans piercing as she frees them into the silence of the secluded alley. He keeps her close, his palm curved over her breast, and she feels his eyes on her, watching her come apart.

The pleasure spreads unrelentingly, waves of heat that swallow her whole until she shatters in his arms, shivers with it, legs clamped tightly around his as her muscles quake, her fingers clenched into his biceps. Her world is bathed in sharp white lights that burst behind her eyelids, her voice raw as she cries out, the words bursting from her throat. For him.

"I'm alive. I'm alive. I'm alive."


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