A/N with this chapter, story rating is now M.

I crack my apartment door open.

"Can I help you, Assistant Director Skinner?" I ask, assuming the formality he did this afternoon in his office.

"I didn't receive notice that you went to the infirmary about that shoulder injury." For a boss who's just shown up at his employee's apartment without notice or invitation, he sure sounds disinterested.

"That's because I didn't go," I reply, trying to keep all traces of hurt from my voice.

He looks down at his feet. "Can I look at your arm?"

I shrug. "If you want," I say, opening the door a little wider for him to enter.

He glances around my apartment before discarding his coat on the back of one of my kitchen chairs. I sit on the couch, and he sits a professional distance away from me, rolling up the sleeve of my t-shirt. I keep my gaze fixed ahead, refusing to get sucked into those deep brown eyes.

His large, tough hands are surprisingly gentle as he moves along my arm, tracing muscles and bones. I reflexively gasp and shiver as his hands brush the side of my body, and he pulls away.

"Did that hurt?" he asks concerned.

I blush. "No, that wasn't why I…" I trail off with a depreciating grin, trying to hide my embarrassment. "You have an effect on me that I can't deny. I'm sorry. I wish it was as easy for me to pretend as it is for you."

"It's not easy for me," his deep voice mutters.

My gaze snaps up to his. "Then why not just give into it?" I ask helplessly. One of my hands reaches out to his knee on its own accord.

His dark eyes bore into mine, so many tumbling emotions in them. "You don't even know my first name," he says with a hint of pain.

I shrug. "You could tell me." I press my lips together, remembering the feeling of sparks when his were on mine.

"Walter," he replies, eyes never leaving mine.

"Walter," I repeat softly. I flick my eyes from his eyes to his lips and slowly lean in. I'm not stupid enough to act as rashly as I did earlier in his office again, but he did show up at my apartment. My lips press against his, and he presses back, wrapping his arms around me and drawing me closer. I cup his face and run my fingers across his chest, sinking into him.

He moves one hand to the top of my thigh, caressing up and down my leg. It's everything I can do to not tear his clothes off. As his fingers tease up to where my thighs meet, I moan with abandon. I need him – now. I take more control of the situation, grabbing his shoulders to twist his body closer to mine. I feel the powerful muscles ripple across his back as he wraps his arms around my waist, moving me into his lap without any signs of effort. My hips grind against him, working myself into even more of a heat-induced daze. He's leaving me breathless with the strength of his hold and the passion of his kisses and the way his hands seem to touch all the right places: the back of my neck, the mounds of my breasts, my waist and hips, my rear. When I'm not wrapping my arms around him, I'm tracing the muscles on his back, arms, and chest. Each time they ripple under my touch, I feel the heat between my legs grow. I break away briefly to look into his beautiful eyes, seeing them burning with desire. I smile and lean back in, kissing him fiercely.

Unable to stand the anticipation any longer, I start pulling at his tie and tearing at his shirt buttons. I need him naked. And considering how he's caressing the curves of my body and grabbing onto anything he can get his hands on, he feels the same way. Panting and discarding clothing as we go, I lead him to my bedroom. His hands trace the outline of my body while I fumble with the button on his pants, kissing all the while. He works my shorts off, and his hand brushes my sex. I nearly collapse in a puddle. A deep moan escapes me, and I press my hand against his wrist to force him to stay there. He growls with appreciation and runs his fingers across my most sensitive area.

"You're rather wet for me," his deep voice rumbles.

The only response I can muster through my lust is a pleading moan.

His slacks slide to the floor, and he steps out of them. I lean back on to the bed, pulling him with me. He kisses back around my ear, down my neck, to my collar bone. I moan and arc against him. He effortlessly gets my bra off and moves his hands to feel every inch of me. I grind my pelvis against him, dying for him to fill the needs of my heat.

"Oh, Walter." I can't wait any longer. I move to push his underwear off his hips, but he stops me, trapping my wrists in one of his hands.

"Not yet," he whispers into my ear while I squirm beneath him.

"When?"

"When you're ready."

"You don't think this is ready?" I cry.

"Not quite." One of his fingers finds its way between my legs, and as he runs his finger across the bundle of nerves, I gasp and writhe.

"Walter, have mercy," I beg.

I hear him moan, and he gathers me into his arms, grinding his erection against me. I press against him – he feels absolutely massive, and I need him now. His grinding combined with his thought-stopping kisses draws a desperate, "Please," from me. In response, his hands tear at my back and his teeth bite my neck. And – blessedly – he allows me to push his underwear off, freeing his prominent erection.

He kisses me a few more times and runs his hands all over my body while he runs his erection between my legs.

"Walter," I beg, gazing into his eyes. He perches on top of me and positions himself right at my entrance. With one steady thrust and a moan, he's buried inside me. I wrap my legs around him and roll my hips against him. I can't help but emit a soft cry at the heavenly sensation. Slowly, he begins to glide in and out of me. I spread my legs as wide as I can, letting him get nearly every inch of his cock inside.

"Fuck, Laila. You feel so good."

I merely moan in response, my senses overloaded by him. It's been so long since I've been with a man, and even longer since one of his caliber. His thrusting intensifies, and I can't stop moaning his name. My mind finds purchase only in the flutter of pleasure between my legs and the weight and warmth of his body above mine. My fingernails dig into his back as I cling to him.

"Oh, Walter, oh, God," I moan on repeat while his cock fills me entirely with each thrust.

He grunts and moans in response. I've never been filled so completely before. As he speeds up, I feel my pleasure building. When I can't hold on any longer, my mind fades to white. I think I scream his name as a mantra as I shake with pleasure, writhing beneath Walter's fantastically capable body.

Just as I'm recovering from my orgasm – one of the most intense of my life – Walter's grip on my waist tightens as lets out a series of moans. I feel the wetness of his cum on my inner thigh, and then he collapses fully on top of me. He pants against my face and twirls his fingers in my hair. I entwine my legs with his and slowly stroke his back. I move my head to kiss his cheek, which brings a small smile to his face.

"Laila, you are quite a woman." His hands roam around the curves of my body.

I nearly shiver with the pleasure of hearing his deep voice say my name like that. "Walter, you are quite a man," I say with a pleasure-filled sigh.

After a few more deep kisses, he rolls off of me. Both of us thoroughly spent, we make our way to the head of the bed and under the covers. Unwilling to relinquish the feel of his skin, the warmth and strength of his body, I move against him, laying my head on his chest rather than a pillow. At first I feel him stiffen, but then he moves his arm around me, cradling me to him, and relaxes under my touch. I drift off to a blissful sleep.