Scrubbing the weariness from her eyes with the heel of her palm, Brittany yawned softly and unlocked the front door of the apartment, pulling the carryon suitcase with her before locking the door again. She made sure to put her keys on the designated hook so she didn't lose them again. Pausing to lean back against the door, Brittany took a moment to inhale the familiar scent of home, eradicating the unnatural smell of the airplane's air conditioning that still lingered in her nose along with the scent of stale cigarettes that had seemed to be in every inch of her taxi. Her phone had died before she was able to tell Santana she had gotten an early flight home which meant no one was there to meet her at the airport. She let her eyes drift around the open space, settling on the form on her bed.

Perfect, Brittany thought as she slipped out of her jacket and set it over her carryon before kicking off her shoes. She could just crawl into bed and go back to sleep, this time with her wife in her arms. She enjoyed seeing her parents and her mom's birthday party had been fun, but she preferred when Santana went with her, and it wasn't only because when they were at home it reminded her of sneaking around as a teenager. Moving to the bed, she paused in surprise. She didn't expect to see blonde hair and a pink, sweater-clad form curled up on her side of the bed.

As if sensing her presence, long lashes framing deep, brown eyes blinked open, focusing on her in surprise. She was about to sit up but a gentle yet strong hand pushed her back down as the bed bowed slightly to Brittany sitting down.

"You're blonde again." Brittany ran her fingers through the newly blonde locks before she leaned down and pressed a kiss to full lips.

Santana hummed into the soft caress before nodding. "You really shouldn't leave me alone for so long. I start filling the empty hours at the stylist or shopping. Does it look bad?"

"Of course not. I think you look beautiful. " Brittany curled a lock of the blonde hair around a finger before she tucked it behind Santana's ear. "And that's not because I'm totally biased. It's because you always look beautiful."

Santana chuckled softly. "Not that I'm complaining, but why are you home so early?"

"I got an early flight and my phone died so I couldn't tell you."

"Oh, Britt Britt, I told you to make sure you keep it charged," Santana stretched her body lazily, her hand finding Brittany's and intertwining their fingers. "I was planning on taking you to lunch after meeting you at the airport. I even bought a new dress."

"We can still go to lunch and you can still wear your new dress." Brittany smiled brightly as her eyes drifted over her wife again. "But… what are you wearing now?"

Santana raised an eyebrow, looking down at the older baby pink and white striped sweater that was way too big, the neck cut to be off the shoulder with the words I'm not a lesbian, but my girlfriend is on the front of it. She gave her wife a sheepish look. "It gets really cold without you in bed and I missed you."

"So you're sleeping in my sweater on my side of the bed? Weren't you the one that said you were in a personal battle against the color pink?" Brittany was confused but, even more, amused.

"Yeah, but, it smells like you." Santana shrugged, her thumb running along Brittany's knuckles. "You can take it off if you want it." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Instead, Brittany stretched out on the bed, pulling the comforter over their bodies before wrapping an arm around Santana's waist and pulling their bodies together. "I like the way you smell." She buried her face in Santana's neck and breathed in the familiar scent that was a mixture of body wash, conditioner, lotion and Santana herself. "You smell like home."

Santana laughed, tipping her head back as the tickle of air became a soft brush of lips. She pressed herself into the warmth of Brittany's embrace, absorbing the heat that was their bodies entertwined. It had been a very long four days and all four of those days, Santana had regretted not joining her back in Lima. Not that she didn't enjoy going home, but Britt's mother kept calling her Yeast Girl and they were still putting finishing touches on the record. Now that her wife was home, her body craved the connection she'd been denied for four days. "Babe, I'm so glad you're back."

"Me too." Brittany whispered into her ear, brushing a kiss along the curve of her jaw. Maybe she didn't need that nap just yet, she decided as her hands slipped under the pink sweater, finding silky-smooth skin that she caressed. "You are so very warm."

Santana was done waiting for Brittany and tugged the sweater up and off, leaving her in just a pair of boyshorts. She tossed the sweater aside before grabbing a fistfull of Brittany's shirt, finding her lips for a kiss.

Brittany chuckled. "So warm and beautiful." She easily moved to cover Santana's body, straddling her hips as she admired the woman beneath her.

"Off," Santana commanded, tugging at Brittany's shirt. When she was given a raised eyebrow, she softly added, "please."

Brittany removed her shirt without a second thought, tossing it aside before leaning forward, brushing her lips along the skin of Santana's solar plexus. The surface beneath her lips raised as Santana breathed in deeply and Brittany smiled, brushing a line of kisses over her ribs. She felt fingers tangle in her hair, trying to guide her, but Brittany took her time. Each rib was treated with a tender kiss until she reached the underside of full breasts. The hands in her hair tried to pull her higher, but instead, her lips found the barely visible scar on each breast, just two very pale lines that probably wouldn't be noticeable to anyone who didn't already know they were there.

"Do you think the scars are ugly?"

Brittany had been laying on the bed on her stomach, flipping through a Cosmo before looking up. Santana was standing in front of the mirror, completely bare from the waist up, brows furrowed. Each breast still had a healing scar from her "Summer surgery" and Santana was overly obsessed with the healing process, especially after Coach Sylvester had demoted her on the squad. Brittany set the magazine aside and rolled off the bed, moving up behind Santana. "Nothing about you is ugly."

"Britt, that's not helpful." Still, there was a smile pulling at the corner of Santana's mouth.

Pressing down the pump on the bottle that sat on the nearby dresser, Brittany stepped right behind Santana, looking over her shoulder in the mirror. Splitting the bit of silicone gel to each index finger, she brought her hands up around Santana to trace each of the dark red scars. She felt the shift as Santana leaned back against her, her brown eyes fluttering closed as Brittany rubbed in the scar-reducing ointment. "Is this helpful enough?"

"More than you know."

Pressing a kiss to the thin line, Brittany finally allowed the hands in her hair to guide her up to a nipple, capturing it between her lips. She heard the soft whimper that Santana tried to disguise by clearing her throat and Brittany chuckled, raising her eyebrows as she looked up to find brown eyes watching her.

"Shut up. I really missed you," Santana defended herself.

"I missed you too," Brittany responded before flicking her tongue over the nipple as one hand came up to tease the other. "Did you miss my hands touching you?" She asked, mesmerised by the conflicting textures of the soft skin of Santana's breast versus the firm and raised texture of her nipple against her tongue.

Santana nodded, swallowing audibly at the sound of Brittany's voice, the rich texture that she saved for when they were in bed. "Baby, I missed your hands, your lips, your tongue…"

Brittany chuckled, moving up to capture Santana's lips in a kiss.

Santana growled softly, sitting up and forcing Brittany back. "You are still wearing way too much. " She reached for Brittany's button fly, popping them open one at a time. "Off. please."

Brittany slipped off the bed, determined to remove the offending jeans as fast as possible. Her hands were quickly swatted away as Santana moved to the edge of the bed.

Pulling her forward until Brittany was standing between her own thighs, Santana placed a kiss to the toned abdomen, her hands beginning to peel down the fitted pants. "I missed every single inch of you."

Brittany ran her fingers through the now blonde hair, biting her bottom lip as she felt hands pushing the material down, manicured nails gently raking over her thighs.

Santana chuckled against tense muscles as Brittany stepped out of the offending jeans, nearly kneeing her in the jaw. "Whoa there."

"Oh my god, I'm sorry." Freeing her legs finally, Brittany knelt on the floor in front of her wife. "I didn't hit you, did I?"

"No, it's fine." She leaned down to meet Brittany's lips for a kiss. "You are fine." She cupped Brittany's cheeks in her hand, pulling her up.

Brittany chuckled, grabbing Santana's wrists and removing the hands from her face. She pressed a single finger to full lips, silencing the protest that was going to emerge. "Lay back," she commanded, her hands sliding up, caressing smooth thighs to hook into the waist of the boyshorts. She smirked as her command was obeyed without question, even getting assistance from the hips that rose off the bed as she eased the underwear down strong legs.

Santana swallowed audibly as she felt lips brush along the inside of her thighs that confidant hands pushed apart. She barely had time to prepare herself, gripping the sheets as Brittany's attention shifted to her core. "Shit," she gasped, one hand moving to sink into Brittany's hair, not pulling her closer or attempting to take charge, but just to keep herself anchored.

Brittany didn't waste her time. She missed her wife beyond words and the scent of arousal was enough to convince her to root out the source, being rewarded with another barely contained whimper. She loved everything about Santana, the way she trembled so deliciously, the taste of her, the heat of her body and personality, and she loved the feel of Santana's nails ever so lightly digging into her scalp. What she would never admit out loud was how much she loved the voluntary surrender and the way her strong-willed wife would let go and allow herself to fall apart with Brittany alone. No one else was allowed to see and hear the need in Santana's raspy voice or feel the way her thighs trembled with the circle of her tongue or as she eased two fingers into heated depths.

"Fuck, Britt." Santana gasped. "I missed you so fucking much." Four days may not be that long for some people, but she couldn't remember the last time they'd spent over 24 hours apart, at least not since before they were engaged. She'd been in love with Brittany for years, but she never imagined she would fall so deep. She couldn't believe she could love Brittany even more with every day that passed. And no one knew her body like her wife. It was no secret that she'd been with her share of boys in high school, but only Brittany had the ability to turn her into a helpless puddle. Only her wife could cause the pressure to wind so tightly in her body, to bring her so quickly to the edge with her exquisite torture.

Brittany felt the trembling in Santana's thighs and the way muscles clenched around her fingers. She looked up, through the valley between full breasts to see eyes clenched tight and Santana's bottom lip captured between her perfect teeth. The hand in her hair began to pull her forward as Santana's hips started to grind against her tongue and fingers in a circular pattern. For the barest of moments, she contemplated extending her torture, but the shuttering moan that emerged from her wife's throat was a shot of pure desire down her spine to settle in her groin. She needed to hear more and she sped her movements up, her tongue driving against the bundle of nerves slick with desire as her fingers plunged deeper, feeling muscles gripping her digits.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" Santana gasped suddenly, her body tensing and her back arching before she was unraveling in wave after wave of pleasure. Eventually, when she felt she could take no more, the trembling subsided and she was crashing back to reality. She whimpered weakly, attempting to pull Brittany up by tugging her hair. "Babe…" She felt Brittany's tongue beginning to move against her again and she groaned. "No no no, Baby. Come here."

Brittany chuckled as she pressed a series of kisses along the inside of Santana's thigh before gently biting her.

"Hey!" Santana scrambled back to the center of the bed, not surprised when Brittany followed her until she was hovering over her and Santana was looking up into crystal blue eyes. "The last time you left a bite mark there," she ran her hands up strong biceps, gently raking her nails over Brittany's strong back, "I couldn't wear 75% of my wardrobe for over a week."

"You can wear anything you want. People will just know you're all mine." Brittany hovered over her, looking down at her with a loving look. "I missed you."

Santana rolled her eyes dramatically. "Brittany, everyone already knows I'm yours." She ran her hands over tensed shoulders, before quickly sliding down and nudging the inside of Brittany's elbows, causing her wife to crash down onto her with a surprised yelp. "And you are mine." Santana wrapped her arms around her and quickly rolled over, pinning her to the bed. "Now…" Santana captured Brittany's lips in a kiss, tasting herself as their tongues brushed against each other. "Where were we," she asked as she slipped a thigh between Brittany's, pressing closer against a heated core.

Brittany hummed softly in delight. "Well that is not where we were…" her words were cut off by a gasp as the pressure increased, "...but I'm not gonna stop you."

"This time." Santana gave her a knowing look. She sat up, straddling one thigh as she pulled the hair tie from her wrist and pulled her hair back into a messy bun.

Brittany took the opportunity to slide her hands up to trace tanned ribs before covering firm breasts. "You are so beautiful."

There was a slight bashful look that came over Santana's face as she moved to hover over her wife again. "You know, I can hear that from a hundred music producers or publicists and it feels so fake or it makes me uncomfortable. But you say it," she leaned down to brush her lips against Brittany's, "and my heart skips a beat." She kissed a path down Brittany's neck and over her clavicle, nipping the soft skin. She pressed her thigh closer to her wife's heated core, smiling at the soft hum she received. Brittany bent her free leg up and Santana slid one hand lower, dragging her nails up Brittany's thigh as she felt her wife's hips begin to gyrate, grinding her sex against the pressure of Santana's leg. Both of Brittany's hands went up to grab the headboard and Santana took the new opportunity to brush kisses along the side of Brittany's ribs, nipping her way up the pale flesh until she got the dip of her underarm. She knowingly pressed her thigh closer as she brushed a kiss against the smooth-shaven skin, being rewarded with a soft…

"Fuck," Brittany groaned, bringing her other arm back down to grab the smooth flesh of Santana's ass as she thrust her own thigh up to meet Santana's slick core.

A flash of pleasure coursed through Santana as she dragged her lips up to the tensed tricep muscles, causing her to instinctively bite down. She knew she was leaving a mark as she sucked on the pale skin, their bodies beginning to rock together in a familiar rhythm as heated centers ground against strong thighs. The hand on her ass disappeared for a brief moment before a swift slap brought a delicious sting, forcing her to release her bite as she gasped in delight. "Shit."

Brittany laughed through a moan which immediately got smothered by Santana's lips. Instead, she groaned, a hand covering her breast, fingers less than gently teasing her nipple. It was like waves of electric shocks rushing through her body straight to her core, being rebounded by the thigh moving against her, leaving a cloud of pleasure in its wake. That's what being with Santana was always like. It was a tidal wave of love and desire, drowning her as she attempted to gasp for air. Teeth raked over her bottom lip and Brittany felt her body tremble. She brought both hands down to grab Santana's ass, guiding their moving bodies in a rhythm she needed, feeling the cliff edge approaching rapidly.

Santana could tell her wife was close, could feel the tiny quakes coursing through the strong body beneath her. Four days, her mind seemed to repeat to her as she cherished the feel of their bodies together, as her tongue brushed against Brittany's and she allowed her wife's hands to guide their movements until she felt Brittany come undone. She was pulled forward, tight against the long frame as all air was forced away between them, leaving no gaps in their connection of flesh until she felt the hold weaken and Brittany's body slumped bonelessly into the mattress. Their foreheads pressed together, Santana smiled, brushing brief kisses along the line of Brittany's jaw. "Well, that was a start, but we still have a lot of time to make up for." She stretched out her limbs for a moment before retangling their legs together, even as she began to take a more comfortable position. "But also, we should shower." Even as she spoke, Santana was curling into Brittany's body. She rested her head on a shoulder, her arm draped over Britt's stomach as she felt a soft caress down her back.

"We can give each other cat showers." Brittany emphasized the suggestion by briefly flicking the tip of her tongue against Santana's forehead.

"Ew, Babe, no." Santana shook her head.

Brittany chuckled, running her fingertips down the centerline of Santana's back. "You weren't complaining about me licking you earlier...ow!"

Santana released Brittany's nipple, running a soothing thumb against the abused flesh. "You are such a brat." She nuzzled her nose against the pale skin of Brittany's shoulder. "Mmmm, I love you so much, Britt."

With a smile, Brittany pressed a kiss to the top of Santana's head. "I love you too. So much."

"Also you're not allowed to go out of town without me again."

Brittany laughed. "Nope. Definitely not doing that again."