More juicy stuff, I'm afraid. Skip to 12 if you want to continue to the non-sexual part of the story.

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They entered her bedroom and he gently set her on the mattress. Giving her a tender smile, he turned on a bedside lamp and lowered himself on top of her, capturing her lips to drink of its wine. His right hand clenched and released her thick, dark hair, keeping her mouth to his while his left hand slid under her shirt, gently stroking her puckered nipple with light touches on the palm of his hand. As she caressed his neck and hair, shivers danced up and down his back. Groans escaped both of them.

Then greed seized him. He wanted to kiss every last part of her, knowing it would all be delicious. Apart from her sheer physical beauty, he adored her forceful, confident spirit. Contact with her was bound to instill an amazing sense of freedom he was looking forward to reveling in. He broke from her mouth and let his lips and tongue wander: her shoulder, down her arm, across her abdomen. When she reached to pull her shirt off and wiggle out of the yoga pants, he stopped kissing her in order to kick off his shoes and strip from the rest of his clothes.

"The body of a goddess," he murmured as he knelt on the bed next to her. "Venus, to be precise." He leaned over her, placing his hands on the mattress on either side of her head. As he moved to kiss her, an expression of doubt crossed her face.

"Damaged goods," she said sadly. Her hand reflexively touched on the bullet wound scar on her shoulder. It was a round depression in her skin, somewhat star-burst in character and situated an inch or so below her left collar bone.

The vulnerability in her eyes surprised him. He never pegged her as being self-conscious about her physical appearance. It was a lovely body, after all, but women were taught from a young age that "perfect" meant "beauty". She probably couldn't bring herself to look at the scar when she stood before a mirror. It was a reminder of how she had been fooled – they all had been fooled, himself included – by Red John's minion FBI Agent Craig O'Laughlin.

"Your irremovable law badge," he said, removing her hand and kissing the white mark in her skin. "You're branded as a cop forever, my dear. Wear it proudly."

She pushed him back a little, staring in shock. Her eyes watered and her face began to pinch a little as she absorbed his words.

"My God, Patrick, how… how can you be such an expert at knowing what to say to push people's buttons—"

He gaped and started to answer awkwardly, never considering that she could take it differently than he intended. She continued without pause.

"—while at the same time being expert at choosing the right thing to say that makes a person feel everything will be all right?"

Then she pulled him to her, placing a hard kiss on his lips.

You, Reza, he thought, turning his head slightly to deepen the kiss. I want to make you feel that everything will be all right. And it will be.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her soft body close to his, as her leg hooked on his, pulling it between her legs. The tips of her fingers trailed gently over his back, leaving a sensation that was magical in its intensity. His growing erection found a wonderful nest, snug and so moist, and was feeling very much at home. He ran his hand down her side, over her full hip and firm thigh before bringing her leg up. She followed the lead, rubbing her calf and thigh up his. Her body was open to him, inviting and warm.

She broke off to catch her breath.

"Reza, you are a sexy creature," he breathed in her ear, struggling to catch his own breath. "Sweet, yes, but very, very sexy."

Her lips found his neck and she placed sucking, wet kisses from his collar bone to his ear before latching onto the lobe with gentle kneading bites. There was no restraining the deep groan that escaped him, nor stopping his hips from jerking towards hers, his penis stiffening faster.

"Please, Patrick!" she sighed, pulling him tightly with her leg and arms. "I need you. Now, more than I ever have before."

If she had known how to read his tells, he knows she'd see it then. He couldn't help freezing at her words.

Now more than ever? Oh, how he loved this woman!

He untangled from her limbs, causing her to whimper with distress. He ran his tongue in a line down her chest, between her breasts, pausing briefly to place a few feather light, affectionate kisses. Continuing with his tongue, he reached her dark muff and burrowed with his tongue-tip to find the epicenter of a woman's pleasure. She announced his success by bucking her hips and releasing a loud cry. Grinning, he lined up with her body and placed her legs over his shoulders, caressing her and licking her inner thighs alternately. When he found her clit again, she moaned, grinding against his mouth.

She was so responsive, probably as ready for release as he had been on the couch. Writhing and moaning, she grabbed his hand on her thigh and squeezed it hard. Her grip was nearly painful but it expressed her passion. Her woman's bed was beginning to contract and she moaned his name. He caressed himself with his free hand a few times and spread the resulting issue around his head before bringing his body even with hers. He spread her folds and placed his penis at the entrance of her. Wrapping his forearm under her ass to angle her hips properly, he entered, thrusting as deeply as he could reach, hoping he understood her body map. She released his hand and grabbed him around his back, digging her fingers into his muscles.

That's gonna leave a mark, he chuckled internally, wryly.

When he began to rock into her, she picked up the rhythm and met him enthusiastically. He opened his eyes to watch the passion on Reza's face. She was truly enjoying herself.

The grip around him seemed as strong as the squeeze she'd had around his hand and he felt his eyes roll back into his head as that delicious fire flared in his belly.

"Faster faster faster," she moaned quickly. "Please, Patrick…"

"Your… wish…my…dear," he said, intensifying his pace.

With a push of her thigh, she flipped him over and rode him upright even faster, bracing against his shoulders. His dominant little vixen liked control apparently. That was fine for the moment, but he really liked to take turns. Still it was wonderful to see her slack face, open-mouthed, consumed with the pleasure he was providing.

Then she stopped bouncing and rotated her hips around his root. Flashes of white light filled his vision, and with half a brain he felt around with his hand until he found her clit with his thumb, giving it a gentle caress. She froze a moment, her mouth and eyes opened in large O's. Her tight sheath grabbed him in strong pulses, her love juices flowing over him.

"Oh, God…" she finally panted, her body finally loosening.

He flipped their joined bodies onto her back and thrust into her hard and fast. He began to shoot his seed into her and he stabbed as deeply as possible. And again. And again. She groaned repeatedly, calling on her deity each time.

Then his strength vanished and he collapsed on her, wrapping her in a very relieved and very happy embrace.

TBC: Rosy New Day