AN: This chapter is rated M (a mild M, in my opinion, but still). If that's not your thing, feel free to skip this one - we're going back to T with the next hug. :)

Thank you for reading!


Post-sex


His fingers linger at her side, doodling idle circles into the bracket of her waist as she gasps for breath, her chest lifting and falling rapidly, her limbs spread-eagled across the bed. Her skin is so soft and he can never get enough of touching her, curling his fingertip just so against her lowest rib where he knows her skin is hyper-sensitive, teasing her while she's still coming down from her peak.

These are his favorite moments, he thinks, right here - Kate spent and wracked from his ministrations, thoroughly and deliciously loved. So breathtakingly gorgeous. He's barely coherent himself, his muscles still weak and trembling, his heart pounding but there's nothing he savors more than the sight of her pleasure, the ferocious beauty of the moment when she comes undone.

Kate tremors with little aftershocks, her pulse throbbing beneath the tender skin of her neck and he puts his mouth to the spot, licking at the delectable mix of her sweet skin and the salty sheen of sweat. Moaning, she claws her fingers into his hair, her grip weak as she tugs at his hair, her message ambiguous - stop, or more, he can't tell.

He drags himself higher, his torso pressed to her side as she curls both arms around his neck, tugging him into her embrace, her fingers curled into the hair at his nape. He lowers his body to her, his weight carefully braced onto his elbow and his legs as they bracket her thigh, one pressed between her thighs and she shivers, her hips arching helplessly against him.

"One more," he whispers into her ear, knowing how to build the lingering tremors into another ferocious orgasm, if only he works them right. He draws her earlobe between his lips, his teeth nipping at the tender skin and she moans in almost helpless approval.

His fingers trail down her stomach, inexorably seeking the warm heaven between her legs and he groans when he finds heat, the slick mix of himself and her coating his fingertip. She whimpers, writhes, tightly gripping him, her nails digging into his neck, his back but he barely notices as he circles and slides and teases, finding a pointed rhythm that's spiraling her higher with every stroke. Her heels dig into the mattress, her strong thigh muscles clenched as she tightens in his arms, trying to arch within the cradle of his embrace, seeking, needing.

He presses his mouth to hers when he sends her flying, swallows her cries as she comes, her lithe body quivering in his arm as he holds her through it until she stills and he rolls onto his back, Kate draped over his chest, completely limp and spent.

Oh yeah. Absolutely his very favorite moments.