damnFireworks - stay tuned for the morning after... I can't make any promises about update time for next chapter.. It just happens.

Chapter 11 – Iron Low Heat

Leaving the arena, Nikki allowed herself to be led by Dean. He held her hand as he walked her back to his car. Stopping every now and then to remind her that this was real. He'd kiss her and be gentle with her. She'd be lying to herself if she said she didn't know what was going to happen next. It was almost a prophecy.

She smiled at the man beside her. She loved him. She truly did. It was time for her not to fight what she had known all along.

The drive back wasn't anything out of the ordinary but it was special. For Nikki, it was symbolic. Every light, every building going pass, every sound, scent, touch. She bit her lip to supress a wide grin. God was she blushing already?

Dean stroked her cheek. He had noticed.

"I've missed this." He spoke. "Just us."

"Me too."

When they finally reached their destination. Dean looked over at his former wife. Gazing at her stunning beauty. He grinned at her which caused a small giggle to escape from her lips. She has no idea what she is in for tonight.

Dean Ambrose only has one woman in his heart and he was going to take his time in showing how much she meant to him. Nikki was his diva. His woman for life. Nothing was going to change that.

He gave her his grey hooded jacket to cover up her exquisite frame before accompanying her inside the hotel.

She was hesitant at first but eventually, she stopped caring if anyone had caught them together.

The couple swiftly entered the hotel elevator and he pulled her into his arms as they waited to reach Dean's floor. She smelled like berries crushed with ice. It was like a drug to his senses.

They finally reached his floor and entered the room.

"What about?"

His lips crushed down on hers. Nikki worried about everything throughout their whole marriage. Tonight, Dean refused to let her mind drift from nothing but bliss. He sent a message to his Shield members to stay the fuck away from the room tonight. In case that had failed. He placed the Do Not Disturb sign out on his room door.

He'd left the balcony doors partly open, and the gauzy curtains floated in the gentle breeze. Keeping the lights off to assure their privacy, he ran his fingers over Nikki's cheek, luxuriating in the warm smoothness of her skin.

"No," he said when she went to unzip her dress. "Let me." Running his hand down the curves of her body, he drew up the soft fabric with slow anticipation.

She was being seduced, Nikki Bella thought, as Dean gripped her hips and pressed a kiss to the bared skin of her breastbone, her high-end dress having crumpled soundlessly on the rich cream of the carpet.

"You taste like berries," he murmured, kissing his way up the slope of her neck. "Ripe, lush, juicy"

This was a very different Dean Ambrose than the one she had tangled in bed with long ago. Back then he'd never spoken much in bed. The deep timbre of his voice hazed her mind, his callused skin on her own threatening to tangle what threads of reason remained.

"Tell me your fantasy," she whispered against his mouth.

He angled his face to rub his jaw delicately against her cheek, his thumbs shaping the vee of her hip bones.

"A strong, sexy woman in my bed, mine to do with as I wish. You"

"That's a very dominant male fantasy"

Sensual amusement in his blue eyes, he just looked at her.

She laughed, though her pulse was a staccato drumbeat. "Why am I surprised?"

His kiss was as slow, as romantic as the night, the kind of kiss a man might give to a new lover he was wooing into his bed. "Let me," he whispered again, unhooking her bra to pull it off and drop it onto her dress before pressing her against him again, big hands splayed on her back in a way that shouted possession. "Let me." A kiss pressed to the sensitive spot behind her ear.

Shuddering, she wove her fingers into the silk of his hair, willing to be petted and caressed and adored enough to surrender the reins to this man she trusted not to betray her heart.

It had been so long.

"Yes." It was the barest whisper, but he heard her.

Fingers on her jaw, another delicate kiss, his body so big and hot. "Hold on." With that, he reached down and swung her up into his arms, carrying her on to the bed made up with soft white linen. He placed her on the bed, the faint light spilling in from the balcony the only illumination.

"We should turn down the bed," she said, her eyes on him as he reached back to strip off his T-shirt, baring a body she craved even more today than the first time they'd shared a night together.

"No sheets," he said, kicking off his shoes and reaching down to tug off his socks with curt male efficiency. "I want to see you." He came around to take off her heels before prowling up over her, his hair falling across his forehead. "You are so beautiful." He sounded almost surprised, as if he was seeing her for the first time.

Perhaps he was, it had been a while. The one who touched her with sensual fascination and wanted to re-discover her every secret pleasure point. "Dean," she whispered when he kissed his way down her navel, having tugged off her panties to discard them over the side of the bed.

"Mmm." A wet kiss pressed just above her pubic bone, his hands pushing her thighs apart, the roughness of his skin a shock that made her quiver.

It was the most intimate of kisses, his patience exquisite. Her soft cries lingered in the air, shimmered on the fine layer of perspiration that turned her skin into a mirage. And still he petted her with a slow attention to detail that made it crystal clear that while she was the one who trembled and broke, this was very much his pleasure, too.

His fantasy.

The realization was more intoxicating than any wine. Surrendering to the sensations, she was still gasping for breath when he finally made his way up her body to nip at her throat hard enough to leave a mark. All the while, he petted her breasts, her abdomen, the tops of her thighs with hands both exclusive and demanding enough that she knew his control wasn't as impeccable as it appeared.

She opened her mouth to his kiss, her legs to the jean-clad thigh he pushed in between. But he withdrew it after only a second, muttering, "Skin," before rolling away and stripping off his clothing to return to her, a big, dangerous predator who had decided to pet her to pleasure such as she'd never before felt.

This time, he settled himself over her, his erection pushing aggressively against her abdomen. He allowed her to close her fingers around the heated steel of him, the skin that sheathed him paradoxically soft. She wanted to taste him, please him as he'd done her, but tonight, she was his to do with as he wished.

It wasn't in her nature to give in so utterly in bed, but Nikki Bella hadn't ever felt so treasured by a man. It threatened to make her afraid, but she refused to submit to the insidious emotion, refused to taint a night she knew would become a memory she'd cherish.

His mouth at her breasts, licking and tasting. His hand between her legs. His fingers sliding deep into her, his way eased by the molten heat of her need. She squeezed, attempted to hold him, but he withdrew and then he was nudging her thighs apart and pushing into her with the thick intrusion of his cock.

"Let me," he whispered once more, sliding one hand under her head to fist it in her hair, stroking her leg up over his hip with the other.

She could do nothing else, her body his instrument. Rocking home with a grunt, he claimed another kiss, this one hotter, more demanding, but continuing to hold that lazy edge that said he had all night to love her. And when he began to move, it was with the same unhurried rhythm, their bodies locked in a slow dance that seared pleasure through to her toes.

Seduced. She was being seduced.