The Doctor smoothed his hair down for the hundredth time. Rose's bedclothes were made of an impossibly soft material – probably expensive Egyptian cotton – and it felt so cold against his heated skin. Rose had dashed off to her adjacent bathroom to ready herself, so he made himself useful and took off his new suit to climb under the sheets. The bright fuchsia color probably made him look even more red. His single heart was pounding, and the Doctor wondered momentarily if he would suffer from a stroke before he would be able to see Rose. Finally the doorknob on the bathroom door wiggled, and the Doctor's patience was well rewarded.
Rose had tousled her long blond hair and touched up her makeup. Best of all was what she was wearing; at one of the shops Rose had seen something and refused to let him see it, and she even hid it in the trunk of her car after she bought it. He was transfixed, following the incredible curve of her hips that the see-through babydoll dress barely concealed. Rose leaned against the door frame, her eyes smoldering.
"Like what you see, Doctor?" A smile played at her lips and she stifled a chuckle at his expression.
The Doctor was speechless. His mind remembered a dozen different times when he saw Rose's lovely body, but this was brand new to him. Different eyes, different heart, different senses.
Rose hit a switch on the wall and the lights dimmed. He could barely see her walking across the room to him, and his heart rose to his throat when he felt her crawling toward him on the bed. Even in the dark he could see the fire in her eyes. She straddled him and leaned down to kiss him. She tasted like strawberry (her favorite) and smelled like heaven. Rose drew a line of kisses in lipstick down his neck and explored his collarbone, and his breath hitched in his throat and came out in small bursts. Still he could not speak. His new human sense of touch, though less sensitive than a Time Lord's, was completely new, and he was hyperaware of every spot where Rose's skin came in contact with his own. Her skin was slightly cooler than his. Chills raised up when Rose's manicured fingernails stroked his hair. Finally he found words.
"Oh, Rose," he gasped, and rolled her over so she was underneath him, growling. He returned the favor, gently biting her neck and relishing in her involuntary noises while she writhed underneath him. Rose took his hand and guided it down her body, coaxing him to pull off her underwear. The Doctor growled again when he noticed they were already soaking wet. Without breaking the kiss, he expertly slid them down her legs and tossed them across the room. He lifted her legs and Rose moaned audibly as he entered her, taken by surprise at his girth. Rose clutched at the Doctor's back, her nails digging into his skin, one hand on the back of his neck.
Within a split second Rose's mind reached out for his, and he didn't resist. This time, Rose's sensations enhanced his own. Their rhythm increased with wild abandon. Neither one cared who heard them, and neither one knew how long they remained intertwined. Rose occasionally spoke his name in an ethereal voice, and the Doctor held her tighter. Long red welts formed on his back from Rose's fingernails, but he didn't pay them any notice. It wasn't until dawn was breaking that they both climaxed together, drenched in sweat and crying out in ecstasy.
They fell asleep in each other's arms at dawn. Rose fell asleep first, and the Doctor listened to her ragged breathing deepen and her heart slow down until she drifted off. He stroked her sweat-soaked hair and wiped the streaked mascara from her eyes. Almost immediately after his head hit the cool pillow, he was asleep.
::-::-::
The Doctor jolted awake precisely at noon. Rose was sprawled out beside him, in one of her usual comical sleeping positions. He rolled to his side to look at her, and his back protested. He reached around and felt his back – several thin scratches, about ten inches each, were scattered all over his lower and middle back. He smiled. That's a first, he thought, and chuckled.