Chapter Eleven

Ruth's entire body felt heavy and happy. Little sparks of aftershocks still tickled her when she moved. Her hair was plastered to her sweaty face and her skin was starting to chill as her heartrate slowed and her body cooled. "Oh Harry," she hummed happily.

He stirred beside her. They had rolled over, him on his back and her resting against his chest. There was a wet patch on the bed that she didn't much want to lie on top of. But that could be dealt with later. For now, she had no intention of moving at all. Harry was lazily tracing his fingers down the ridges of her spine. He tiled his head to kiss her hair. "That was rather wonderful, thank you," he whispered.

"Beyond wonderful. You're…well, I see why you have something of a reputation," she teased, turning her head to press a kiss to the light dusting of hair on his chest.

"I have a reputation?" he asked in surprise.

"Oh come off it, you know you do."

"Yes, well, I didn't think you were aware of it."

"I overheard the Director say a few things about you before you took the position. Nothing too bad, just sort of the insinuation that you have a way with women. Which I can see that you do."

"Is that why you were nervous on our first date?"

"No, I didn't really even think about it until tonight. When we were on the sofa, actually, I just had the distant thought that you obviously know what you're doing. And you're very good at it."

"Well, thank you, I suppose," he grumbled.

Ruth sat up so she could look at him properly. "Don't pout," she said, placing a hand on his bare chest. Oh he was so strong and beautiful, she did not want to stop touching him. "Do you think I was using you for sex?"

"Well, that would be very unprincess-like behavior," he quipped.

She gave a small laugh. "I think taking you to bed on our second date was probably unprincess-like behavior as well."

"Yes, I suppose it is. So are you just using me for sex?" he asked teasingly.

"Are you just using me for sex?" she countered. After all, he was the one with the reputation. Her reputation was, apparently, that she lived like a nun. Some nun she'd be after this.

He gave a small growl and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her on top of him. Ruth laughed and readjusted herself so her legs straddled his, their bellies were pressed together with her breasts on his chest, and her elbows beside his head to prop her up. "I promise, Ruth, I would not have waited more than a year after meeting you and taken you out to dinner if I just wanted you for sex."

"Oh? So what do you want me for?" she asked.

"Everything," he said, putting his hand on her cheek again. He brushed her hair out of her face and gazed up at her adoringly. "I serve at your pleasure, Your Highness."

"So you don't mind me using you for sex, then?"

Harry laughed that wheezy laugh of his that she loved so much. "Anything you want, darling. I'll need a little while longer to recover, but I'm sure I can still manage another showing for you, Princess."

Ruth knew that Harry was much older than she, but he wasn't so old that he couldn't perform, obviously. He'd already performed quite admirably. "You needn't feel obligated. Besides, there's much more I want you for than just sex anyway." She leaned in for a kiss to punctuate her statement.

Their kiss deepened and grew more passionate, despite the fact that Ruth was exhausted. Harry's hands wandered her body, squeezing her bum and her breasts and settling on her hips to grind her body against his burgeoning erection. Ruth whimpered into his mouth at the sensation.

All of a sudden, Harry pulled back with a shout. Ruth rolled off him as he scrambled out of bed. "What's wrong?!" she cried.

But the answer soon presented itself. Because when Harry got out of bed, Fidget was there to take his place. "What the bloody hell is that?!" Harry shouted, pointing at the large gray ball of fur.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" Ruth lamented. "I didn't know he was in here. He…oh dear, he must have been hiding under my bed when we came upstairs. And we shut the door so he couldn't get out. This is my cat, Fidget."

"I wasn't aware I was going to be the other man in your life, Ruth. Christ, he's not happy with me, is he." Harry, seemingly totally unbothered to be completely nude, twisted around to look at the side of his abdomen. His body was riddled with scars, but there, just below his ribs, was a line of scratches dotted with blood.

"Fidget!" she scolded, "That was very rude! Oh I am sorry, Harry. Here, come into the bathroom, let me take a look at that."

She picked up Fidget, feeling extremely odd doing so when she wasn't wearing anything, and put him outside on the landing and shut the bedroom door again so he couldn't come back. She then took Harry's hand and led him through the open door to her en suite.

"Let me see," she said gently, turning on the light so she could get a better look at the scratches.

"It's fine, Ruth. Though I think we've dirtied up your sheets enough without getting my blood all over the place," he replied.

Ruth chose not to respond to that. She got a flannel and wet it with warm water to gently wash the blood away. The scratches were so small that they did not begin bleeding again, thankfully. Ruth took another towel and patted him dry. "There," she said softly. She pressed a kiss just above the injury. "All better."

Harry put a hand on her arm and guided her up from where she was bent over. "Ruth," he murmured.

"Yes?"

"Let's go back to bed. Unless there's anyone else in your room who wants me to get out."

She smiled softly up at him. "Just you and me, Harry. And I certainly don't want you to go."

"Good," he answered, softly brushing his lips on hers. "I don't want to go either."

"What do you want to do?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck again.

His hands traced down her waist and hips to her bum, pulling her closer to him. "I want to take the princess back to bed and make love to her again."

"Well, you do know we have to go to work in the morning," she pointed out. Harry's lips moved down to the side of her neck.

"You're the one who keeps my calendar. What do I have tomorrow?" he asked against her skin.

Ruth's mind was going a little foggy as she struggled to form coherent sentences, particularly when his tongue darted out. "Nothing till ten," she panted.

"Let's cancel it and stay in bed all day."

She knew he was being seductive and romantic and she did appreciate that, but Ruth could not help but start laughing. She pulled back from him to ask, "What would you say if I agreed to that?"

Harry considered for a moment and answered, "I'd be worried that I had shagged the princess right out of her mind.

Ruth swatted his chest for that, still laughing. "Must you keep calling me 'the princess?'"

"Probably not, but I find it very amusing."

"Why?"

"Because you're not what anyone might think a princess is supposed to be, and I think you're absolutely incredible and the exact type of person who should be a princess. A queen, even," he said.

Ruth took the compliment in the spirit was intended. "I would make a horrible queen, so thank goodness that's not anything we need to worry about."

"I disagree that you'd be a horrible queen, but I do agree that it's good we don't need to worry about it."

"Very diplomatic response."

"Mmm, yes," he hummed. "All this being in the capitol and in meetings with politicians seems to be rubbing off on me."

"Well, at least it's not turning you into one of them. I like you just as you are."

"That's good, but Ruth?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Can we please stop talking and go back to bed?"

"We can go back to bed, but I like talking to you."

"Oh shut up Ruth!"

Her protest turned to a shrieking laugh as he bent down, put one arm behind her legs, and scooped her up, carrying her to bed. She was still laughing when he dropped her down on the tangled bedsheets, but soon his kisses kept her mouth too occupied to laugh any more.