Reviews will make me update faster 

Actually got something resembling character development here, tell me what you think.

He lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply, flicking some ash into the tray on the bedside table. She came out of the bathroom, naked, and strolled over to the bed. She sat down next to him, taking the cigarette from his fingers, taking a long drag. She blew the smoke out in a slow trail. She lay down and then took another drag. He took it from her, looking at her in surprise.

"Since when do you smoke?" he asked her.

She ignored the question and took the cigarette away from him. She got up out of the bed and walked over to the window. She sat on the ledge and looked down to the streets below. She opened the window a crack and shivered at the sudden influx of cold air and snow. She flicked the ash out the window and looked over at him.

"I seem to be picking up lots of bad habits these days." She said to him. She laughed harshly and took another drag.

He watched her for a few moments, small snow flakes landing on her warm skin, melting and leaving small spots of water, glistening in the soft lamplight of the room. His gaze settled on her breasts, on the small side and perfect. She sat with her back perfectly straight and he could make out the lines of her rib cage. She stood up and began to wander around, giving him the perfect view of her firm rear. He could feel himself growing aroused at the site of her and when she looked at him, she knew it too. She laughed softly, seductively and licked her lips. She walked over to the window and opened it wider shivering noticeably. She took one last drag on the cigarette and then threw it out the window to the streets far below. She turned to look at him again and then walked over to the bed, swaying her hips in a catlike motion. She climbed onto the foot of the bed and crawled to the head where he was lying.

She was on her hands and knees, her face just inches from his. He could feel her breath on his skin. She licked his lips and then pulled the top one into her mouth with her teeth, sucking on it gently. He wrapped an arm around her slim waist and then rolled her beneath him in a swift motion. She made no protest to his actions. He pinned her arms above her head and then began to nip and suck his way down her body. She moaned in pleasure and struggled to get her arms free, to tangle her fingers in her hair, run her nails down his back. He would not let her go though and he continued his path lower down her body. She groaned louder at his ministrations. He laughed against her and she moaned again. He came back up to her face and let go of her arms. She instantly wrapped them around his neck, drawing his mouth to hers. He kissed her, deeply and passionately.

She moved her hands up and down his back and his skin developed goose bumps. She used her foot to push off his boxer-briefs and they were quickly lost beneath the sheets. She then wrapped a leg around him and he pulled her body closer to his. He entered her quickly and she drew a quick breath. He could feel her heart beat get faster and his got faster too. He stole a quick glance down at her face and she was biting her lip. Her cheeks flushed. He reached his peak and kept going until she too climaxed. After a few moments to collect her breath so rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom, locking the door behind her, as she always did. He heard the sounds of the shower and fifteen minutes later she emerged, a towel wrapped around her body. She wandered around the room picking up random pieced of clothing until she was completely dressed. She then left the apartment without a word. He got out of the bed and watched her as she exited his building and walked down the snow-filled London streets.

She had come to relish these walks home from his place to hers. The quiet of the streets gave her a sense of serenity. The snow flakes covered the city, giving it a soft shimmer. She loved the snow, the cold beauty of it. It contrasted so sharply with the inferno from which she had just left where a roaring fire and the heat of sex could fog the senses. The cool, late night air cleared her head. He had offered to drive her home the first few times, or have a driver come and get her, but she liked being alone. She was used to being alone; it had been that way for some time. She had long since alienated her family and friends. It had been many years since she had anything beyond the social acquaintances she had had back home; the kind of women with whom you discussed nothing deep and personal, all conversations kept shallow and gossip filled. It suited them all; none of her circle wanted much beyond that. Once she would have been appalled at that, but that was a long time ago. She had let people get close and had got nothing but hurt. Her old self would have probably cried at this thought, but the woman she was now just shrugged it off as she did anything which touched deep. Her old self would also have hated what she had become. She reached her apartment and called him. It was a concession. She was not sure why, but he seemed to need to know that she had arrived home safely each night. So she called him and then went to get ready for bed. She stripped down naked and climbed into the soft, warm bed. And there in the dark she allowed herself to cry for a few moments before wiping away the tear and going to sleep.

He was sitting there, waiting for her phone call. He hated that she walked home alone every night; he knew that the empty streets were no place for a woman to be walking alone at night. He told her that if she did not call with in half an hour of leaving his place he would come and find her. But so far he had not needed to go that far. In the time between her leaving and her phone call when he would go to sleep, he had gotten into the habit of reflection, about her usually. He turned to stare at the cigarette butt in the ashtray beside the bed. He remembered how casual she had been about her acknowledgement of her new bad habit. He felt something akin to remorse, knowing it was probably at least partially his influence. He thought about her in their younger days, how different she had been. He often wondered what could have happened to turn the sweet, angelic and naïve girl he had known into the cold, cynical and jaded woman who he knew now. If you could even say he knew her. He did not like this woman and yet she filled him with a lust not felt for anyone before her, not even her earlier self. He asked himself again what could have changed her so much, she was a complete mystery. He was easy; poor little rich kid who was spoiled but only craved love. He had created the player persona to protect him and had allowed it to become so ingrained that the line between the persona and self had blurred until they were one and the same. Simple. He wondered if things could have been different, who he could have been. The ringing phone pulled him out of his reverie. He shook his head and answered the phone. When she had hung up he walked over to the bar and poured himself a shot of whiskey. He looked at the almost empty bottle and knew that he was drinking too much.