Liz propped herself up on one arm so she could better admire her handiwork down the length of Red's body—he was flat on his stomach, with a fading pink flush across his backside, punctuated with a single lingering bite mark on one cheek. She tried to stretch out next to him as well as she could, but with her leg still half-lodged under his dead weight, that was easier said than done.
It wasn't as though Red was passed out per se… but he was certainly a little closer to that than merely lounging in the afterglow like she was. She ran her hand over his rosy skin and he soon began to stir, leaning into the pressure with a sleepy, wordless murmur; he slowly rolled over onto his back, savoring the ache as his weight settled fully onto his pleasantly sore ass.
"Welcome back," Liz whispered into his ear, and then she took his earlobe between her teeth, tugging at it gently. She could feel his answering moan vibrate in his throat.
"Holy shit," he whispered back, with feeling; Liz snorted a laugh.
"You're cute when you swear."
"Am I?"
"Yeah. You should do it more often. It humanizes you. Takes away some of the mystique."
"I'll take it under advisement," he said, and twisted his neck so he could seek out her lips for a deep, leisurely kiss. Pleasure curled in Liz's chest, slithered down to her belly as their mouths moved together. His fingertips ghosted over her cheek, barely stirring the pale, downy hairs there. The light touch sent a shiver down her spine, and when she finally pulled back and he let her bottom lip slip from his own gentle, tugging teeth, a twisting heat began to ache again between her legs.
"So I take it you enjoyed yourself," she said, her voice lowering with growing arousal.
"My god, Lizzy… If make up sex with you is always going to be that fantastic, I might have to start—"
She laid a finger across his lips, cutting him off.
"Don't even think it."
He pressed a kiss to her finger and she could feel his smile against her skin, see it in the crinkles around his eyes. He sighed contentedly, and she couldn't help but bask in the warmth of his gaze.
"I hope you enjoyed yourself," he said.
"Mmm, more than is probably healthy."
His smile widened with a laugh. "Well, healthy or unhealthy, tonight you were… inspired."
"You bring out my creative side, I guess."
He put his hand over his heart and spoke with an odd solemnity, "Well, it's an honor to be given the opportunity to be your muse."
"You're ridiculous," Liz said, but somehow his eccentric charm endeared him to her even more. He nuzzled against her and she leaned into him.
"I missed this," he said. "The pillow talk, the absurd sexual chemistry, the… bone-deep satisfaction—"
"The shameless ego-stroking…" she quipped, but sobered quickly. "So did I."
Liz turned her attention again to Red's bare chest, lazily tracing her fingers around, drawing patterns on his skin, sketching constellations from his scars. She was fascinated by the softness of his body against hers, by the strength coiled and hidden beneath the surface.
His contrasts made up a large part of his appeal, she thought. If he were only the hardened criminal the world thought he was, there was no chance in hell she would be here with him. His gentleness, his nurturing nature, those traits drew her to him as much as his darkness—and they weren't the facade she had feared they were.
"I miss the romance," he said, after a while, "even if it was kind of a… whirlwind."
Liz glanced up from her exploration of his chest to meet his eyes for a brief moment. "I miss it, too," she said.
A whirlwind. That was a good way to describe those few weeks.
Her body began to tense up beyond her control as memories flooded back and she had to consciously remind herself to breathe, remind herself that her worst fears weren't actually realized the way she thought they had been. Those days she spent with Red before hadn't been part of some elaborate plot to insinuate himself even further into her life in order to turn on her later—it was real. It was all real.
Curling up together on the couch to read and listen to Red's records, enthusiastic experimenting in the bedroom—and the bathroom, and the kitchen, and the stairwell—turning to each other in the middle of the night after horrible nightmares, impromptu late night scantily-clad baking sessions, sharing his excitement whenever he got a chance to introduce her to something she'd never experienced before…
It might've all seemed too good to be true—and it certainly had seemed that way afterwards—but it wasn't. Liz was… Liz was in love with a man who actually, genuinely loved her back. A man who would rather die than see her hurt, if it was at all in his power to prevent it. As hard as it was to wrap her mind around someone caring about her that much, Red in fact did.
Red watched her now, quiet and intent, with an understanding in his eyes that Liz could feel in her soul. "You can let yourself enjoy it, you know."
"I know. I just… have to get past the knee-jerk panic reaction first."
In need of a distraction, she bent down and ran her tongue over one of his nipples, teasing it until it tightened before blowing air across the damp flesh; he shivered under her. She slid her hand slowly down the middle of his chest to rest on his belly and his cock jumped, not quite as satiated as it had been not long ago.
"Why don't we start over?" he said. "Starting tomorrow—well, this morning—we'll just go forward from this point with a clean slate. I'll take you to dinner. There's a charming old cafe around the—"
"Those weeks were some of the best of my life, Red," she interrupted. "I don't want to pretend they never happened."
"They were some of the best weeks of mine, too. But it doesn't really matter how good they were if they're tainted for you now."
"They're tainted for me for now. Someday, I'm sure it won't trigger that… pain, but the feelings are still so fresh at the moment that it's hard to convince my body those memories are anything but what I feared they were."
"We'll have to make new memories, then. To help reshape the old ones. Give them context."
"That sounds like something we can do."
Red smiled and reached for her hand. "I love you, Lizzy," he said, and brought her palm up to his mouth to press a kiss there. "I've loved you for a very long time. That is the main and driving force behind why I'm in your life the way I am, and why I would do damn near anything to earn the privilege to continue to be so."
Liz nodded, her eyes welling up with tears despite herself. Red hadn't allowed himself to say it before, perhaps too cautious, too wary of putting pressure on her own feelings, but his hesitance had only served to make her doubt him. To hear him say those words now…
She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't convince her voice to cooperate.
"It's all right," Red said, "I know."
Liz shifted so she could throw her leg across his body and pushed herself up to straddle his thighs. Red's cock had begun to stir where it lay and she slid forward so she could rub herself against it, so she could feel it stretch and fill and harden under her touch.
"God, Lizzy…" Red's hands came up to caress her, up and down the sensitive skin along her sides. She sat up, arching her back and letting the bedsheets fall to puddle at her waist.
Red watched her move, his awe of her clear in every flicker of emotion across his face. The intensity of his attention might've been embarrassing or even uncomfortable if he were a different man, if she didn't find the idea of Red, specifically, being captivated by her so invigorating. What on earth made her so special to him? She still hadn't puzzled that out properly, but she was thankful that his interest couldn't so easily be explained away by The Fulcrum.
Liz positioned him against her and began to draw him into her body; he cried out, just the slightest sound floating past parted lips, his eyes laser focused on her own. He felt so good inside her, he always felt so good…
She remembered how she felt that first night when she guided him inside—how frustrating it had been to know it could be so good between them, but that she'd spent so long running away from the potential they had.
Red's presence had been like a siren's call from the moment he stepped into her life, luring her away from her life as she knew it, from her career as she'd planned it, from her husband. He was everything she'd ever been tempted by, all rolled up into one rather enticing package—and that was exactly what scared her so much.
He laid his hand flat on her abdomen now; she leaned into the pressure, grinding herself down against his groin. She felt so amazingly full, so heavy with arousal, and when he slid his thumb lower to rub her clit, she growled.
Liz's rhythm faltered as Red started to spend himself, throbbing deep inside her; she bucked her hips erratically, pushing against his frantic fingers and his own pressing thrusts as he tried to help her across the finish line with him. All at once, the tension broke and pleasure washed over her in waves as his body went lax under her.
Liz would never tire of watching Red reach his climax, the way years just… melted away from his face. It was like having a window into the past, a chance to see the man he was before he became The Concierge of Crime—a man with far fewer worries and fears and traumas battling for his soul. A man who still existed somewhere beyond his defenses, who called to the woman she hid beyond her own.
