A/N: This chapter includes NC-17 content. If uncomfortable with such content or under the age of 18, please continue to chapter 7.

Chapter 6

Laura's eyes fluttered open, her brown eyes taking in the unfamiliar surroundings, unsure, even, if it was night or day. This was one of her least favorite aspects of her job, waking in a strange place, because it always took a minute or two to orient herself. Rolling to her back, she stared at the wood slatted ceiling, her eyes shifting towards her feet at the sound of someone moving around in the room. Just as her initial instinct to run kicked in, her eyes found a familiar back. It all came back to her, as she sat up and tried to drag her fingers through still braided hair. Ouch!

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked aloud, a bit mortified she'd been so rude as to leave him to his own devices.

"For a spell," he answered, vaguely.

Her eyes fell to the coffee table where a game of solitaire was in progress, shifted to the now roaring fire, then traveled around the candlelight bathed room. When her nose finally identified the smell of food warming, her stomach growled, loudly. She shrugged off the blanket she'd been wrapped in and joined him in the kitchenette, hoisting herself up on the small counter.

"You've kept yourself busy, I see." He flashed her a quick smile, while his eyes moved over her face. Finding warmth in her eyes, he stepped to her, leaning in for a kiss, testing the waters. She smiled up at him as their lips parted, telling him silently she knew what he was about.

"Alright, then," he murmured, the tip of his tongue tasting his lips before he smacked them several times. "Hungry?"

"Starving."

"I thought we'd be wise to finish today's lunch before it spoils." With a final look at her, he took a step backwards. "Whether we have—" He stopped in his tracks when her hand grabbed his forearm, a gentle tug urging him back to where he'd previously stood. He swallowed hard when her splayed hands glided up his chest, over his shoulders, before her arms loosely encircled his neck.

"Not for food," she clarified, a set of fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck while a pair of sultry brown eyes met his. He regarded her at length, wondering if he could possibly be misreading her intentions. The simple fact was, a man could never be certain when it came to Laura Holt.

"Laura, I need you to be very clear—"

His words were muffled when she pulled his head downwards and covered his lips with hers. It was the most uninhibited kiss she'd ever given him, her lips teasing his, her tongue tasting, savoring him. Of its own will, his hand sought the long column of her neck stroking it, as he was overwhelmed by her. The taste of her lips. The touch of her hand against cheek, his jaw, his neck. The scent of sunshine, honeysuckle and grass, that was so uniquely hers, surrounding him. It was too much, it wasn't enough by half. What doubts he had about her intentions were thoroughly vanquished when a small hand whispered down his back, over the firm contours of his bum, before settling there, kneading. A jolt of electricity shot straight to his core.

With a groan, he pressed as close to her as he could, wrapping his free arm around her, pulling her even tighter against his body until they were melded from hip to shoulder, not giving a damn she'd feel the rapidly hardening proof of his desire for her. With a gasp against her lips, he pulled away. Breathing hard, he could only stare at her, as her hands grasped the hem of his thermal shirt and tugged it upwards. He bent over, took two steps backwards, the shirt pulling free of his head, then arms.

Laura's lips lifted in a winsome smile in answer to the shell-shocked look upon his face. She'd held him off for so long that now when she was wishing he'd make a move – already – he seemed at loss for what to do next. Well, she'd give him a little hint.

"Come here," she commanded softly. His eyes held hers as he stepped in close again.

Then heaven was a place on earth, here and now, in the form of a passionate little sprite, who'd buried one hand in his hair, the other hand holding tight to his shoulder, as she wrapped her legs around him and lifted herself into his arms. He'd barely time to utter her name, before she was kissing him with abandon. His heart pounded in his chest as he greedily took whatever her lips offered.

She hummed against his lips when he slipped an arm around her back, while his other hand cupped her bottom, pressing her tightly against him. The way he held her freed the hand at his shoulder to roam over his shoulder, then downwards, where she dragged her nails lightly through the thick mat of hair on his chest, exploring its silken texture, a nail teasing his nipple as her fingers skated past. She wriggled against him, wanting… needing… to know the flavor of his skin. She pried her lips from his, their mouths parting with a soft pop, before those same lips trailed over a jaw, down his neck. She sighed, after her first taste of his rich, slightly salty skin, her breath fanning the lightly wettened patch of skin.

Goosebumps peppered his skin at the sensation, his hips instinctively grinding against her. Much to his delight, rather than shifting away from his hardness, she reciprocated the motion. But he wanted, needed… more. He wanted to learn how the curve of her breast fit into his palm, to trace with his tongue every single dapple of color sprinkled over her petite frame. He wanted to taste the sweetness of her skin, to savor, for the first time, the flavor of her essence. He wanted to make her writhe beneath his touch. He wanted… no, needed… to see her face when she went up in flames, to feel her body quaking beneath his. He needed to finally know how it felt to be buried deep within her warmth when he found his own pleasure…

With a loud groan his hands grasped her waist, then pried her small body from around his and plunked her down on the counter. He stared at her, memorizing the way her skin was pinkened by desire, how her chest rose and fell rapidly, the already peaked nipples outlined clearly through the thin fabric of her shirt. But it was when her fingertips touched his bare abdomen, making the muscle jumps and his blood course through his body, that he lost all resolve.

Sod it.

He cupped her head in his hands and drew her lips back up to his. He slowed it down this time. The kiss slow, languid, thoroughly tender. She hummed low in her throat while wriggling closer to the counter edge, so one hand could stroke his shoulder and arm, while the fingers of the other traced the rise and fall of his ribs, whispered over the hard planes of his stomach. When her hand dared to slide lower, to trace the outline of his erection through his thermals, he again abruptly ended the kiss, put distance between them.

"Oh, God," he bemoaned, leaning against straightened arms supported by hands on the counter. He glanced at her, then dropped his head down, staring at the floor, trying to find some form of control. "We can't…" he panted, even his shortness of breath not concealing his deep regret. She stared at him in disbelief, then her temper piqued. Crossing her arms in front of her, she scowled at him.

"Of course, we can't," she retorted. "Why is it you're so quick to point the finger when I'm not ready to move forward, yet when I am—"

"I'm not in the habit of carrying protection, Lau-ra," he interrupted, drawing out her name in protest, "Most notably whilst engaging in a day of skiing." A smile slowly lifted her lips, sparkled in her eyes, and, after a couple ticks of the clock, a lyrical laugh bubbled past her lips, increasing in volume when he turned his head to glower at her. "I'm glad to see you find the humor in this. Of course, it won't be you standing beneath a subarctic spray of water, now will it be?" he asked testily. Her eyes flitted downwards, unwittingly, then back up to his face.

"There are other ways to take care of that particular problem that are much more enjoyable," she noted, adding a sultry layer to her voice, "But while that may still happen, it won't be needed." She held out a hand to him. "Come here." Even with her tantalizing suggestion in mind, he took her hand reluctantly, fairly certain that artic shower was awaiting him. She drew him to her with a gentle pull of his hand. The smile didn't leave her face, until she drew a pair of splayed hands over his abdomen, then chest, the feeling of naked torso beneath her fingers sending sparks ricocheting down her spine. "I'm clean, are you?" she finally asked, lifting her eyes to meet his, as her hands continued to wander.

"As a whistle, but—"

"And while impressed that you appear to feel it's solely a man's job to supply the protection, I'm a woman of the eighties, Mr. Steele. I'm on the pill… if that's okay with you."

Emotions warred within him. Any number of women had said the same in years past, but he'd never once imbibed without a condom. Nothing would be left to chance, not on his watch. But then, as he studied her while she patiently awaited a response, the answer came to him. This was Laura. The woman who had to be in command of her own destiny. She'd no more risk an unwelcome pregnancy that he. Cupping her neck, he drew her lips up to his for a tender kiss.

"Where were we?" he asked, before stealing another kiss. By the time this kiss had ended, she'd taken his hands in hers then placed them at the hem of her shirt.

"Right about here, I believe," she answered. His blue eyes met hers and the two pairs held, the look of pure daring in her brown ones bedazzling him. Gathering the fabric in his hand, he lifted the shirt slowly over her head, then tossed it aside.

She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but for certain it wasn't the look of stunned approval on his face, or the way he traced the back of his fingers over her shoulders, her chest, never nearing her breasts. He slipped an arm around her waist, eased her backwards until she lay on the counter. Her legs lifted to wrap around his hips of their own accord, as he bent forward, his mouth replacing his hand. For long minutes he pleasured himself by feeding on the freckles he'd dreamed of for years, while her hands caressed his back, his sides, his arms, buried themselves in his hair.

She gasped when he at last palmed a perfectly rounded, small orb, his mouth zeroing in on the center of the other. While one finger circled around the nipple of her left breast, flicking, teasing its puckered peak, his mouth waged sensual warfare on her right: suckling, nibbling, his tongue teasing the pointed tip. She writhed beneath him, her back arching. It was too much and by far not enough. Her fingers sunk into his hair again, grasped it, dragged his mouth away from her breast to her lips. She pushed up into a sitting position, their mouths still latched together, and slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of his pants on either side of his hips, pulling the material down as far as she could in a hint. With a bit of maneuvering on his part, he finally kicked the impeding article of clothing away.

He tore his lips away from hers, sucking in a swift, harsh breath when her delicate hand closed around his hardened shaft. His erection twitched… hard… as her hand whispered up its length. But when her hand gently eased back his foreskin and her thumb swirled around its tip, a jolt of pure pleasure rippled through his entire body with such intensity that he knew he wouldn't be able to last as long as he wished to so long as she continued to touch him so.

"Laura," her murmured huskily, as his head dipped downwards again, his lips finding hers, while he brushed her hand away from him. He lifted her up from the counter, molding her slim frame to his. He moaned into her mouth, when she wrapped her legs around him again, and he felt the dampness of her pants at the apex. It was with great presence of mind that he recalled to turn the stove off before he stumbled towards the bed.

They instant she lay on the bed, he urgently relieved her of her pants, her own zealousness reflected in how she eagerly lifted her hips to assist in his endeavors. Stretching his lean frame out on the bed next to her, he fed greedily on her mouth while her hands wandered over his chest, his hip, his bum. One of his hands was doing some wandering of its own, slipping between her legs. He grunted when he found her wet and, given how she ground her mound against his hand, more than ready. A bit desperately, he experimented with stroking the nub of her pleasure, until a gasp against his lips told him what it was she liked most.

Then, suddenly, he was rolling to his back, and she was there, rising above him, her knees pressed into his sides as she straddled him. Blindly, he reached down and positioned himself at her entrance, his gaze not leaving hers. He needed to see…

Her hands pressing against his taunt abdomen to balance herself, she sank down, taking his tip inside. They gasped in unison, her eyes widening. It had been a long time since she'd gone to bed with a man and he was well-equipped. At another time, he might have given her a smug smile, for he suffered from no loss of confidence in the bedroom. He knew, well, his skill sets… and that a woman had never been displeased by what they'd found beneath his shorts.

But this was not any woman, this was Laura…

He grasped her hips, holding her still as she panted while her body adjusted to him. Her eyes nearly crossed at the sensation of him finally within her body, stretching her, making her muscles clamp around him. She began to move, taking his hardened shaft a little deeper with each trust of her hips, until, at last he was buried to the hilt.

Then she stilled, watching the play of emotions in his eyes, over his face.

"My God, Laura," he murmured, his fingers digging into her hips while he tried to calm.

He'd dreamt of this moment a thousand times over and not a single dream could compete with the reality of being cradled inside her tight, wet warmth. He tangled his fingers in her hair, drew her head downwards until their lips made contact.

Then, she was moving again. Already hovering at the edge from merely his presence, in a handful of strokes, the powerful orgasm rolled over her. Rearing back her head, her lips parted and eyes glazed over, while he pumped his hips to see her through the whole of it.

Then they were rolling again, he hovering over her, as he positioned himself between her legs. Sliding back in, he teased her upwards with slow, short strokes of his shaft, while mouth and fingers teased, plucked at, nibbled on a pair of breasts. When her fingers flexed, then clutched his back, he knew she was nearing another climax, and he thanked the stars above, for his own control was rapidly withering. Just as he felt the familiar tightening in his groin, her back arched and she cried out, her inner muscles drawing him high and tight inside of her. His shaft twitched within her as it spilled his essence. He groaned her name, as he felt her muscles flutter around him, as her body quaked beneath his.

There were no words, afterwards, both held speechless by the sheer power of what they were feeling. Too soon, in her opinion, he slipped out of her body, and moved to lay on his side facing her when she turned. They kissed frequently, his hand caressing, soothing her body, until she finally wedged a knee between his legs and slung an arm around his waist. Pillowing her cheek on a hand, her breath warming his chest, she allowed his touch to lull her to sleep.