Author's note: This chapter will contain sexual content. It might not be too well-written, far too detailed, and not too nice to read. If such content triggers you, I'd like to send you lots of love and recommend reading until you see a double horizontal line. I hope you all get well though the holiday season - and get enough time for self-care. Oh, and thank you for all of your patience with this story.

"How did you know your significant other was the one?

"There really wasn't a particular moment when it hit me that I would want to spend the rest of my days with her, I guess we just kind of grew on each other until we could not imagine a life without the other one. It's the small things. Like, you know how I'm always so easily stressed out? That was even worse when I was younger. Your mother is the polar opposite of me, you know, she just doesn't let anything get to her and laughs things off so easily – she always did. She has all these qualities that I admire, and I guess when you're together for a long time, you just start rubbing off on each other and maybe adapt some of the strengths of this special person and sort through some weaknesses and –"

"Wait a minute." Her father's tone suddenly changed. Sophie sensed that she would not like what was coming next.

"Could you tell me more about the qualities you mentioned, dad? It's for my blog, you know, it has not been going too we-"

"I know what's going on!" Sophie resisted the urge to sigh loudly into the phone.

"You think just because your old man is an old man, he won't be able to understand what's going on in your flamboyant city life."

He sounded triumphant and insufferably happy.

"It's for the blog, dad. I am following this concept which –"

"You've met someone"

Sophie rolled her eyes.

"And you're not so sure about him?"

There was no way on earth she was going to tell anyone in her family, or rather anyone on earth. about her infatuation with Victor Zsasz.

"I haven't met anyone in quite some time, dad. And nowadays, you can never be too sure about anything when it comes to dating. Especially when you are living a flamboyant city life."

"So, where did you meet him? What does he do? Would you like to bring him over for the holidays?"

"Dad, I haven't met anyone. Really."

It was like talking to a brick wall.

"Or is it a she? Are you worried she would not feel welcome? You know, we could get some of these rainbow –"

Sophie realized that this was a one-time opportunity to get her parents to paint the façade of their house and to make way for her mother to finally get into that argument with one of their neighbours. She let it pass.

"Listen to me, dad. If you ever want me to tell you anything about the next person I date, you might want to start pestering me a little bit less, alright?"

"Okay, okay, I'm backing off. Sorry, I got a little bit overexcited."

The rest of their conversation went more to Sophie's liking. They went back to the more comfortable chitchat about the newest gossip in her hometown and her parents' plans for the weekend

But at one point, the noise in the background told her that her mother had arrived home to pick her father up for a dinner invitation and while her father made sure to hold the phone away from his face, she was rather sure that she heard him whisper:

"Sophie's met someone. But I think she's in denial!"

"Dad." She made an effort to sound authoritative and stern.

"I have to go, honey. Mom says Hi and that she will call you on the weekend to catch up. Take care!"

Sophie was rather sure that she would.

Sophie felt like a child shortly before Christmas Eve.

Well, maybe not exactly like a child. And maybe not exactly like it was Christmas Eve. Maybe more like a hormonal teenager that was about to have a really important date with a long-time crush.

Or maybe she just felt like herself- and at the same time, very much unlike herself, because she could not remember the last time she had felt so very excited.

The source of her happiness was a text containing not even a full sentence.

Tomorrow, 4 PM?

Yes.

It had cost her a lot of self-restraint to not let her enthusiasm show in her reply. She did not know why, but she somehow thought that Victor Zsasz would surely not come if she had the nerve to reply with something as mundane as an exclamation mark or, even worse, a smiley.

Sophie wondered if she should have been upset that he would not be coming back later that day like he had said he would. But then again, him suggesting the next day must have meant that she was on his mind. And instead of ghosting her and then turning up uninvited, he had made a suggestion. For anyone else, this would have been regular human decency, but she somehow felt like this was a big step for Victor Zsasz. And somehow that meant a lot to her.

Joice soundlessly set one foot in front of the other as it was of utmost importance that no one would notice her presence. It was not so much that she dreaded the confrontation that was destined to happen in case she got discovered, but more that she did not want to be noticed before she knew what was going on. Moreover, she was rather confident in her ability to remain as close to invisibility as possible for a human being.

The bells of the chapel told her that it was already quite late and that her former friends were out way beyond the time window that their parents had set for them. Her parents, on the other hand, did not know that she was outside, either. But she had picked up the habit of leaving the house to go for walks once they were asleep and they, of course, never suspected a thing. Joice was rather sure that the same could not be said about their parents.

The town was so quiet at night that the sound of chirping crickets from the fields which stretched out behind it was almost overwhelming. Every wrong step would echo loudly down the streets- as Lisa, David and Martin subconsciously demonstrated. The trio looked tense, as if they were more than well aware that they were not allowed outside this late. They froze whenever a lonely car drove by, probably scared that someone might wonder what a couple of kids might be up to at this time. Needless to say, Joice was intrigued. Thus, she made sure to keep an eye on them as she slowly followed them through the empty streets and made sure to melt with the shadows whenever they fearfully glanced around themselves.

She was almost disappointed when they stopped at the sports field right next to her school. Joice had hoped that they might go somewhere more interesting. Instead, they settled down on the one bench that sat below a broken light post, probably thinking that this would be a sufficient measure for avoiding being seen. But Joice, who hid in the trees closest to said bench, could even make out their facial expressions in the dim light that the other lamps provided.

"So? Why here?" Lisa looked at Martin and David reproachfully. The latter shrugged before tilting his head towards Martin.

"It's just… I wanted to talk to you guys in private and just thought, no one would come even close to school in their free time." Martin looked utterly uncomfortable.

If Joice had still been part of their group, she would have told him that this assertion in fact was very wrong. She had often seen teenagers smoking cigarettes and drinking beer on exactly the same bench the three had chosen to sit on. They simply got lucky to be the only ones that night.

David and Lisa, however, seemed to be convinced by that argument. They nodded approvingly and sat in silence for a while.

"I wanted to talk to you about Joice." Martin finally said.

With a content sigh, Sophie closed her laptop, interlaced her fingers and moved her arms above her head for a good stretch.

She was rather happy with how she was using her day off. Instead of drinking too much coffee and sitting in front of the computer with trembling hands and not getting anywhere with her novel, she had treated herself to a healthy breakfast and even drank some green tea while filling a couple of pages with something that she still liked when she read it a second time.

On top of that, she decided to leave her apartment – not because she had to, but because she wanted to go for a walk and catch some fresh air. Although she was well aware that it was a stretch to call the air in Gotham clean, she hoped that it would still be beneficial for her health to step outside and breath it. Even if this only applied to her mental health.

It would be good to clear her head and to take some time to reflect about what had happened the day before. And simultaneously, it might calm her nerves for her appointment in the afternoon.

The cold air felt almost nice in her lungs and contrasted wonderfully with the warmth of the sun that had somehow managed to shine through the layers of fumes and whatever else it was that provided her city with its greyish signature.

The buzz of the city seemed soothing to her, like it was an organism whose strong heart would never stop beating, its streets never truly vacant and always full of life.

It really was not the best neighbourhood. East End was not a place where she would have enjoyed going for a walk at night, but while it was nothing like Coventry or either of the Gotham Proper districts, it was nowhere as bad as the Narrows.

At daytime, she loved it. She enjoyed walking the run-down streets, she enjoyed looking at the old buildings which could have used some renovation work – or at least someone willing to paint over the graffiti that decorates their walls. She enjoyed being close to the centre of the city, close to its heart, but also able to see the seaside and breath salt water at the harbour.

She wondered if she felt like that because she was in love.

The thought made her flinch. Although she had told Gina how she felt about Victor Zsasz, she had avoided to really think about what it meant.

Was it really love?

After all, she barely knew him. She knew nothing about his past, very little about his present and she could not be sure that she would get to know anything about his future – especially whether the latter might include her or not.

She did not know anything about his family, about his friends, about his hobbies. She liked to think that she knew something about his personality, but then again, she could only make guesses based on her perception.

Maybe it was just physical attraction.

Sophie sighed. It did not feel like she had just fallen victims to her hormones. It felt like so much more. Maybe, they had, to use her father's words 'kind of grown on each other'. Maybe there was a future for them in which they could both grow and mature together.

"Look at that fancy prick."

A voice not too far away from her sneered loudly, ripping her out of her thoughts.

A blond man who wore thick working boots that looked like they have seen better days gestured towards a car that looked rather new and expansive - and due to this somewhat like it did not belong in those streets.

"Probably some rich sucker who wants to gentrify the area." His friend offered.

"What?"

"Heard it on the radio. They want to buy houses here because they are cheap, then they throw the tenants out, renovate the building, and make the rent really expensive so that no one from here can afford to live there."

Sophie watched the not-too-well concealed jealousy that had been evident on the blonde's face turn into visible disgust. She could well understand his fear of losing what he had.

She wondered if the man who had shared the information that he had obtained was actually right. Maybe, Gotham would slowly change, like so many big cities around the world did and the less privileged would be driven away and substituted by people who worked in jobs that paid more.

Sophie wondered what her future might look like. Right now, she was content. Content with where she was and with what she had. Surely, it would not have hurt to have a better paying job, but if she was honest, she had everything she needed.

It was probably for the better that the vehicle's windows were tinted, Sophie mused, as the car passed her, its driver hopefully unaware of the scornful glances he had earned.

She wondered what type of car Victor drove, and where he parked it when he visited her – or if he had someone drop him off. And once again, she wondered if he might be part of her future, however that might play out.

Maybe her sentiments towards her surroundings could be explained by her feeling towards the assassin. This was the present and she could not deny that she had rarely felt as excited about it as she did now.

And with that, her thoughts went back to Victor Zsasz and the restless anticipation for the afternoon to finally arrive that caused her feet to move her further through the streets without any particular aim.

He's punctual.

Sophie had just thrown another glance at the old analogue clock on her kitchen wall when she felt Victor Zsasz' presence behind her.

His warm body pressed firmly against hers and she could feel his breath against her neck.

Peppermint, she thought as the little hairs on her neck stood up.

"Good afternoon." He hummed into her ear.

Sophie could feel the resonance of his words in chest against her back. Involuntarily, she shivered.

She could almost smell his grin.

"Hello Victor." She tried to sound unfazed. "How have you been doing?"

"Great." As he aspirated the t-sound, she could feel the air he exhaled brush against her ear.

"What about you?" He muttered with his lips against the sensitive area of her neck, Sophie felt the words more than she heard them.

"Fine" She breathed "Thank you."

When he started sucking on her skin, Sophie noticed that she would not be able to hold the façade of being able to hold a conversation any longer. Forming coherent thoughts was getting more and more difficult with each passing second.

By now, Victor's hands had somehow moved forward, resting on the surface of the table that she stood in front of, trapping her in between him and the furniture. She watched as he grabbed the cup of tea that stood in front of her and carefully moved it aside.

The sheer idea of what seemed very likely to be be about to happen made her knees feel weak.

Victor took a step back and she immediately felt deprived of the warmth and feeling of his body pressing against hers. But he soon offered her a different kind of stimuli instead.

His warm hands brushed over the back of hers and slowly went upwards, lightly pressing the fabric of her sleeves against her wrists, her forearms, and finally resting on her upper arms. Then, they moved over her collar bones.

She had actually made an effort to look nice this morning and ransacked her closet for a blouse and a skirt instead of going for her usual jeans-and-a-t-shirt-look.

A decision she now regretted.

Why didn't I put on a T-shirt, she thought as he started unbuttoning her blouse at a pace that was so agonizingly slow that she felt like growling in frustration.

But she decided that she would not grant him the satisfaction of showing her impatience. Instead, she tried to breath evenly and to look outside the window.

She had counted nine cars that had passed by the street when he finally opened up the last button.

And when she hoped that he would just pull the item of clothing from her body and toss it on the floor, he instead caressed the skin of her stomach before he moved upwards to the even more sensitive area below her bra and made her shudder.

Upon learning how he could evoke this reaction out of her, he proceeded to gently stroke over her ribs with featherlight fingers. And just when she thought that she could no longer endure it, his index and middle finger crept below the wires of her bra and moved its cup upwards until her breast were freed.

Sophie had gotten rid of her bras in this manner countless ways, mostly simply due to her own laziness when it came to opening their clasps, and the friction of the fabric against her skin had never been a present sensation.

Now, it just felt ridiculously intense. When the wired part brushed over her nipples, she shuddered again.

But that was nothing compared to his hands cupping her breasts, at first gently, and then more forcefully, as if he was testing her limits. When she inhaled sharply, he only slightly decreased the exerted pressure until it felt like it was just almost too much.

She noticed that she had become tense and focused on relaxing more into his touch. And just as she succeeded, he pinched her nipples between his thumb and index finger.

Sophie yelped and heard him chuckle darkly in response. The sound made her shiver again and caused her to feel a pleasant pull in her lower abdomen. His fingers let go of her nipples and proceeded with the massage of her breasts.

At the same time, he leaned forward so that Sophie felt her back against his upper torso and was once again able to indulge in the feeling of his warmth and to inhale the subtle smell of his cologne.

As he took another step forward and she could feel his erection pressed against her butt, he pinched her nipples again. Her high-pitched moan was rewarded with a low hum.

Then, as if he had decided to be gentle with her again, he slowly caressed the rest of her upper body from her collar bones down to her hips with a pressure so light that she thought he might not really be touching her skin at all.

She did not dare to move, worrying that he might stop.

His fingers brushed over her waistband and then slowly made their way down below it, hovering over the fabric of her panties.

Almost thoughtfully, his thumbs started to encircle her hipbones. Sophie held her breath, inwardly begging for him to move his fingers lower.

And when he pulled his hands away, she let out a frustrated sigh.

Suddenly possessed by boldness, she began to move her bottom against his lower abdomen, eager to arouse him further. In response, his hands immediately grabbed her hips and held them in place.

This time, his hum sounded both amused and chiding.

Sophie stilled her body obediently, eager to allow him to proceed with whatever he had in mind.

As a reward, she felt him suck on the skin of her neck, again, gentle at first, causing waves of goosebumps, and then with heightened intensity until it almost became unbearable to her. When his lips finally left her skin, she felt relief – and certainty that she was going to have a purple hickey tomorrow.

Sophie let out a shuddering breath – and then a whine when he sunk his teeth into the very same area.

"Too much?" He whispered into her ear, amusement evident in his tone.

"No" she quickly responded in a high-pitched voice.

"Good." It sounded condescendingly, but Sophie was beyond caring.

He released her hips and she had to resist the urge to lean backwards into his comforting warmth as she once again felt him move away from her.

He lowered his hands on her shoulders and she could feel his thumbs drawing small circles over the muscles that always seemed to be stiff from sitting in front of a desk far too long. She felt him slowly work his way down to her waist with light, circular motions. She felt like she was melting under his touch.

When he arrived at the seam of her blouse, his fingers crept below the now loose fabric and over her skin. Slowly, he worked his way back up, applying more force with every inch he covered, and simultaneously dragging her blouse further and further upwards.

At first, Sophie tried to keep her stance upright, intuitively moving her hands, that had been uselessly hanging from her sides up until now, on the surface of the table to lean on her palms.

But with the increasing pressure emanating from his touch, she soon felt her upper body moving forward. It was not long before she found her upper body bend over on the wooden surface.

In her half-lying position, she felt utterly vulnerable – but also utterly aroused.

But in all honesty, she also had to admit that this position was not the most physically comfortable; her exposed breasts were pressed on the cold and hard wood of an old table that she prayed would prove itself fit for what she hoped was about to happen.

She was not entirely sure how to use her hands and lower arms in a way that would decrease the pressure and eventually just crossed them below her chin.

Suddenly, as if he was pleased with her position, his touch became feather-light again. She felt his fingers trace her shoulder blades and eventually dance over the underband of her bra.

Then, the angle of his fingers changed, and she could feel his nails scratching all the way down to her waistband in a motion that almost felt rapid in comparison to his earlier touch.

The way he alternated between gentleness and harshness was an entirely new experience to Sophie. If anyone would have asked her in the past about her preferences in the bedroom, it would have never occurred to her to even consider that she enjoyed being touched roughly.

But now, here she was, moaning shamelessly as she felt the upper layer of her skin break.

Again, she was rewarded with a low chuckle and with him dragging her skirt upwards and exposing her butt, albeit it was still kind of covered with one of the few panties in her possession that she considered aesthetically pleasing.

Apparently, Victor shared her opinion. She felt the fingers of his right hand trace over the lace of her piece of underwear. Then, he hooked his index finger into the part of the fabric that covered her privates and gave it an abrupt pull.

Sophie felt the fabric that had covered her labia dragged between the lips of her vulva, exposing them to both his eyes and the cold air of the room. She suddenly noticed how moist she already was and unconsciously moved her legs further apart.

Another drag caused the fabric to brush over her clitoris and her to moan again, half in pain and half in pleasure. In the back of her mind, she wondered if the fabric might rip.

But the thought quickly evaporated into thin air when she felt him move his hand to left and to the right, exerting even more friction to her most sensitive parts and began to whimper.

As if the sound was everything that he had wanted from her, he gripped the fabric with more fingers and pulled it down her thighs, letting go of it shortly above her knees.

Sophie did not dare to move her legs to cause the piece of underwear to drop to the floor. Instead, she breathlessly waited for whatever he would do next.

She heard him unfasten his belt and unzip his pants, then a jingling sound that indicated that he had pulled his pants down, followed by the ripping of a plastic wrapper and the latter being tossed on the floor.

After a second of initial confusion, Sophie understood that he must have put on a condom and felt both affection upon him being considerate and unnerving anticipation.

Things were about to happen.

On her kitchen table.

The idea of his exposed lower body made her tremble with excitement.

She had spent more time than she would ever admit to picture how he would look completely naked. If he'd be as hairless down there as he seemed to be anywhere else. She had pictured what his penis would look like, if it was shorter or longer and thinner or thicker than what she had experienced in the past. If it would be rather straight or slightly crooked, if he was circumcised or not, how many veins would cover its length. How it would look erected in comparison to an unaroused state.

She had spent even more time to imagine what it would feel like inside of her.

But when she felt his hands on her butt, all thoughts were pushed out of her brain. Softly, his touch moved towards her perineum, the light pressure causing her to shudder.

For a second, she wondered if he would move his fingers upwards towards her anus and felt a wave of anxiety wash over her. She had never performed anal sex and the idea of giving it a try like this, especially at her first time with Victor Zsasz, was somewhat fear-inducing.

But instead, he felt him move his index and middle finger move further downwards, parting above her vagina, and then brushing over the outer lips of her vulva.

Before he was even close to the tip of her clitoris, she was already a quivering mess. He made sure not to directly touch the probably most sensitive part of her body. Instead, he squeezed her inner lips against it.

Sophie whimpered. She could feel her vaginal muscles tense and untense in need – and she sincerely hoped that he did not see it.

His low chuckle told her that he, in fact, was well aware of what he was doing to her.

The movements of his two fingers accelerated and within seconds, Sophie had to grip the edge of the table and arched her back while moaning shamelessly.

And just when she was about to come, he abruptly slowed down, denying her the pleasure of an orgasm.

Sophie groaned in frustration, but he showed no response.

An eternity seemed to pass before he increased the pace again – and then stopped altogether a second before she would have reached her release.

Almost as if he had forgotten about her, his fingers rested between her vulva and her inner thigh, not moving the slightest, much to her disdain.

She counted to ten, and then she could no longer bear it.

"Victor?" she breathed with desperation clear in her voice.

"Mhh?" He asked innocently

"Please?" she tried to swallow the humiliation.

"What?"

He was playing her like a cheap fiddle, but she just couldn't care less.

"Please touch me."

"Oh, sure." He purred.

Apparently, he had gotten what he wanted out of her. With a fast motion, his fingers moved towards her vagina and she felt his pointer encircle her opening.

And just when Sophie was sure that she was close to dying of impatience, he suddenly, finally, inserted three fingers into her, causing her to inhale sharply.

A few seconds passed in which he, much to her frustration, once again remained still. But when she starting moving her hips against him, he once again moved his fingers away.

She felt like crying.

"Please, Victor." She whispered desperately and made sure to hold her whole body very still.

Instead of a response, she felt his fingers once again entering her vagina. This time, she could feel him move them apart, spreading the muscles of her canal.

The sensation made her tremble, and yet she immediately craved more.

And thankfully, he finally seemed to lose his resolve to torture her until she was nothing but a quivering mess.

His fingers left her once more and were swiftly replaced by the tip of his erection. He parted her inner lips and slowly moved from her perineum downwards, hovering over her vaginal entrance for a second before moving on to briefly rub against her clitoris.

She could not remember the last time she had been this wet.

After he had repeated this motion three times, Sophie once again lost her patience – and decided to throw her dignity overboard along with it.

"Please, Victor." She begged.

"Oh? Do you want me to take you?"

"Yes." She hissed.

"Like this?"

She hesitated for a second. Did she really want it to happen like this?

In her past, things had always gotten steamy in the, well, bedroom. Not in the dining area, with her curtains undrawn, in bright daylight. Not with her being pushed down on a surprisingly sturdy table in a somewhat uncomfortable position.

Maybe she had just been boring. So far, she had enjoyed this until now, despite it being out of her usual comfort zone.

And it would have felt weird to ask him to move things into the bedroom. The idea of ruining the moment with this suggesting made her cringe. She did not want to disappoint his expectations.

The tip of his penis nudged her entrance and pushed all of her reservations away.

"Yes." She pleaded.

And finally, he moved his hands to hold her hips in place – and jerked his hips forward. She felt him enter her in a swift motion, burying himself inside of her with a groan that sounded almost animalistic. Upon the still somewhat sudden intrusion, a yelp had escaped her lips.

Sophie learned that he was in fact rather large.

She felt stretched, almost uncomfortably so, and as he pressed himself even further against her, she wondered if he might be too long for her. At first, the sensation held a slight discomfort, but once he was fully inside of her, she had to suppress a pained groan. She wondered if he had hit her cervix.

The pain had cause her to tense up. Sophie she focused on relaxing her body, hoping that this would help her with getting accustomed to this new sensation.

Slowly, he slid all the way out of her, paused at her entrance for a second, and then roughly entered her again.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the wooden table and she arched her back as her body convulsed. But it did not only hurt. The pain was interlaced with pleasure, a pleasure that seemed to be intensified by the discomfort she experienced. The bittersweet sensation caused her to groan shamelessly.

His fingers, on the other hand, released their grip, and moved to rest on the wooden surface, left and right from her.

Sophie felt the warmth of his body against her back before his skin pressed against hers as he lowered his upper body over hers, all while still being inside of her.

She bent her knees and felt the cold edge of the table pressing against her pelvis. She was sure that if she stayed like this, it would sure leave a bruise.

But all of that paled compared to the overwhelming intimacy he had suddenly offered to her.

His breath on her neck, his smell, the comforting warmth that radiated from his body.

He was on his elbows now and Sophie noticed that he now penetrated her less deeply than before.

Yet, this did not mean that he handled her any more gently than before.

When he thrusted into her again forcefully, he slammed her pelvis further against the table's edge. Sophie was not sure if he heard the thudding sound. By now, her moans had become an melodical singsong, only interrupted by her attempts to utter his name, and were accompanied by his deep groans.

Whenever he pushed himself inside of her, Sophie felt so stretched, so filled and so completed. She never wanted it to end.

Waves of pleasures hit her, some higher, some lower, in such an irregular frequency that she was not sure what was happening to her body.

She felt her vaginal muscles clench and unclench without being able to exert any control over it. At first, if she recalled it right, it had felt like she was pushing him out, but at some point, it had started to feel like she was pulling him in.

She wondered if she was experiencing multiple orgasms or if it was just one. She wondered if she had ever experienced a real orgasm up to this day.

The sensation drowned out everything else; the bruising of her pelvis, the way her breasts and ribs were pressed against the table and rubbed against the wood with each of his movements.

All that mattered was saying his name, feeling his body pressed against hers, inhaling his smell, and feeling him inside of her. If she could, she would have recorded this memory, along with all its sensory stimuli, so that she could relive it again and again.

To her, it was perfect.

And when she heard the buzzing of his phone, she almost screamed.

She prayed to the universe, and any deity she knew of, that Victor Zsasz would not answer his cell phone to take a call at a time like this.

Not when he was balls deep into her.

Because no normal person would ever do that. And now, in this particular moment, she needed him to act like a normal person.

And he did.

She could feel his movements become more and more erratic. Sophie tried to tilt her hips upwards so that he might reach her even deeper and attempted to squeeze her inner muscles, hoping to increase his pleasure.

His groaning became even deeper and suddenly, his left hand grabbed her hair, jerking her head to the left forcefully, and exposing her throat to his mouth.

Just when his teeth sunk into her neck, he thrusted into her, this time almost violently, and reached his orgasm with a shudder. The unexpected pain caused another wave of pleasure to rush over her, this time even more intense than the once before. It caused a tingling sensation that she could feel on the top of her head, in her fingertips, and down to her toes. She screamed his name one last time.

When he let go of her hair, she rested her dizzy head sideways on the table, feeling more than satisfied and enjoying the aftermaths of their lovemaking.

Although she slowly noticed that the weight of his body was becoming heavy, she still felt disappointed when he lifted himself up on his elbows and deprived her of his body heat.

She felt him pull out of her and heard the sound of fabric being moved, a zipper, and the lid of her kitchen bin opening.

It all sounded fairly distant to her. Her brain was still caught in a foggy cloud and she solely focused on normalizing her heartbeat and breathing regularly – and on listening to the way Victor Zsasz moved around in her apartment. Her head ached ever so slightly, and she guessed that she might have forgotten to breath at some point.

Her body was cooling down, but just as she decided that it was a good time to get up, she felt his presence standing behind her.

His warm hand landed on her but and his fingers began to gently dance above her skin, drawing goosebumps behind them.

"Turn around."

Too entranced by what had just happened, Sophie rolled over without even thinking about objecting his order.

She popped herself up on her elbows and finally looked at him. To her dismay, he was now fully clothed, but that did not change how stunning he looked to her. In fact, he looked almost too perfect.

Sophie scanned the man in front of her for a sign that he had just had sex, but his clothes looked as neat as ever, and his face did not give away that he had just exerted himself physically.

Except for a slight grin that lingered on the right corner of his mouth – and a fire in his eyes. The look in his dark orbs made her heart beat faster again and her cheeks blush.

She wondered if he looked at her lovingly.

His gaze moved from her face downwards and paused at her neck, her collar bones, and her breasts. She noticed that he was now undeniably smirking.

His grin widened when he looked at her lower abdomen.

Sophie was not sure what exactly it was that amused him. Maybe it was the resurfacing of something immature and he simply found primitive joy in seeing her breasts and her vagina.

"So beautiful." He murmured.

And then, before she could think of a response, his phone buzzed again.

Within three seconds, he had picked it up.

"Yes?" His voice sounded indifferent.

She could not hear what the person on the other end of the line was saying, but to her it seemed that the silence stretched out irritatingly long.

She decided that now would be a good time to finally sit up. She pulled up her panties that had hung loosely around her ankles and adjusted her bra and skirt. She did not bother with buttoning up her blouse.

"I was busy."

The fire in his eyes had been replaced by something cold.

"Yes."

She watched him walk towards the couch and pick up her blanket.

"Mh."

Absentmindedly, he flung it over her with one hand.

She smiled at him warmly and for a second, the look in his eyes appeared more gentle to her.

Feeling courageous, Sophie stood up and moved in front of him, wearing the blanket like a cape, pressed her exposed front side against his body, and embraced him.

As she buried her face in his neck to inhale his smell once again, she could feel him play with a strand of her hair.

Sophie was not sure if he was the type for hugging and cuddling after sex, and him allowing her to do this meant a lot to her.

"I'm on my way."

As she heard him hang up, Sophie let go of him and took a step back.

"Something-"

"came up?" She asked with a grin

He nodded shortly and Sophie hesitated shortly, unsure how to say goodbye.

The desire to express how it had felt to be with him was almost unbearable.

Whatever you do, don't say that you love him. You're high on hormones and you'll regret it later.

"You know, today was rather nice. I think we should do this more often." She suggested with a deadpan face.

She could not be sure whether her attempted mockery had gotten to him or not, but either way, he responded with gripping her chin in a firm grip and pressing his lips on hers roughly.

Then, he let go of her face and moved his lips to her ear.

"That can be arranged."

Author's Note (#2): Sooo, it took me months to finish the last chapter because I felt so insecure about the last scene. I considered splitting it up into two chapters, but the idea of having to write the sex chapter instead of the sex scene seemed far more intimidating to me. Anyway, I was very sure about how I did not want it to be (e.g. fluffly, romantic) and which vocabulary I did not want to use (e.g. "manhood", "honeypot", "love rod", ...). Plus, I wanted it to mirror their relationship.

So much for my goals.

I'd also like to add that this is the first time I've attempted to write a sex scene and since I did not have the guts to ask any of my anglophone friends (or anyone, basically) to read it, I have no idea if it is absolutely catastrophic and should be rewritten, rather okayish, or even good. Because of this, I'd really appreciate your feedback.