A/N: If you have not seen the long promo for the remainder of the season do not read! Spoilers abound! For those of you who have seen it, you know exactly what this scene is and why I had to write it. There was also wine and some persuasion involved.

Enjoy!

Rating for this series is now being bumped up to 'M'

It was like hot liquid swirling low in her belly. She couldn't keep her hips still, especially with his thumbs making those slow, torturous pulls across her upper thigh. He was only a scant few inches from her center and he knew it.

She'd always found him gorgeous, but lit by candlelight, laying against rich satin and velvet pillows she was certain she'd fallen into another world.

He looked completely at ease, somehow having pushed aside everything that lay before them. He was totally in the moment and she owed it to him, to them, to join him there.

With a slow twist of her hips she pushed into him, feeling him through the thin fabric of their pants. Then all it took was one swift flick of her fingers and her bra was falling down her arms.

His hands dug into her thighs, clenching and releasing, making her gasp as she placed her palms flat on his abs, hissing through her teeth at the contact.

It was everything she'd dreamed of and nothing like she'd imagined.

She'd touched him before. To bandage wounds. To help him when he was injured. But this was different.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder, watching his eyes darken at the action. Slowly she slid her hands up, taking care to memorize each dip, each crevice, each ripple of muscle beneath her. She went from smooth, taut skin to the ragged ridges of scar tissue.

When her left palm paused over the newest scar, the one still pink and fresh, the one that had torn him away from her she couldn't move it away. Her other hand moved north as he continued that maddening assault so close to where she needed him.

The Bratva star stared back at her. Eight points, dark yet symbolic. Saying more with one glance than maybe any of the other marks on him.

She stroked once over the tattoo, fingers half tracing the design before falling backwards, catching his nipple with her nails. He jerked up into her making her fingers curl into him as she groaned and a flood of wetness filled her.

A whimper of need escaped her throat and as much as she wanted to take her time, to explore, to feel every inch of him, she didn't now if they could wait.

His hands were already skirting along the waistband of her pants, quickly finding the button, and, in a blink, he'd sat up long enough to strip the tight fabric from her legs, panties disappearing as well.

All it took was one palm to his chest and he lay back again, only the slightest of smirks quirking his mouth. He was enjoying this. He liked her being on top. He liked her pushing him back.

She liked it too.

He wrapped those strong, broad hands around her hips and tugged her forward until she hovered directly over his center. All it would take would be to lower herself a few centimeters and he'd know how wet she was.

One palm swept over her ass, squeezing, kneading, making her plant her hands on his chest once more to keep her balance.

Then he was swinging them sideways. His legs suddenly stretched along the bed as she tipped forward with a small squeak of surprise.

He took advantage of her new position by sucking one taut nipple into his mouth. She gasped as a shock went straight to her clit and she couldn't help the way her hips dropped, seeking contact, friction, relief.

A low almost feral noise came from him when she landed on him. His hands clamped tighter around her middle, pulling her towards him until she had no option but to scoot forward on her knees.

"I want to taste you," he growled and she almost came right then, looking down at him, her knees just under his arms on either side of his ribcage.

There was a fierceness in his expression, a single minded determination that let her know this was happening.

She answered by releasing his shoulders, reaching up to grab handfuls of wine colored drapery that surrounded the bed.

He shifted further down, forcing her legs wider apart, muscles protesting the new position until his mouth was right there and she forgot everything else.

A cry left her lips as his tongue swept through her folds, stroking around her clit and then back down, but not touching it. He lapped at her entrance as she squirmed above him, breaths coming in short, shallow pants.

Her head fell back and she clutched the curtains even tighter, but she couldn't still her movements, every flick of his tongue, every purse of his lips sent her spiralling higher.

His hands grasped just behind her thighs, working their way in until she could feel him spreading her wider, thumbs pressing into her entrance as his tongue suddenly attacked her clit.

She cried out loud and long, a string of unintelligible words that could have been his name or just 'yes' over and over again.

One long finger slid in slowly at first and then fast as he increased his attack on her clit. The coil in her belly gathered so quick there was almost no warning.

All it took was him adding another finger as he sucked. Hard.

There was a faint tearing sound to her left as she exploded, her legs clamping around his head and wave after wave of pleasure washed through her.

She floated in a haze for a few seconds, barely aware as he swept a sure hand across her lower back helping her come back down.

When she came back to herself she felt him moving below her and when she could command her hands to let go she saw half the drapes hanging from the posters of the bed from where she'd torn them down.

Slowly she moved down his chest, realizing when she hit his navel that he'd somehow gotten his pants off without her knowing.

The thick press of his erection pushed between her legs making her grin as he clenched his jaw, the strain to keep from surging up into her painted across his face.

She moved even slower, hands dragging over his shoulders, into his hair and down to cup his face.

The love she felt threatened to overwhelm her, it swelled inside her, something in her blood, her soul she couldn't deny and that she was done pretending didn't exist.

If this was all they had she wasn't going to squander it. She was going to revel.

His mouth was still wet with her release, her thumbs stroking over the rough stubble of his beard as she gazed down at him.

"I love you,"

"I love you," he replied, voice tight and rough, eyes wet. He felt it too, that almost desperate need to join, to become one, to lay claim before it was too late.

Before he could torture himself any more she widened her hips, sliding further down, the wet lips of her sex parting as he found home.

Their gazes never broke while he pushed into her. Slow. Controlled. Perfect.

He filled her completely, every nerve ending heightened.

When she was fully seated she raised herself carefully, hands resting low on his abdomen.

This was the moment she'd remember even when she couldn't remember her own name. His entire world was open to her just then. Open for her to take because she was his universe and he was hers.

No matter what happened, they had this. No one could take that away. She'd cling to it like her life depended on it.

Then his hand skimmed her ribs, settled on her hip, and she began to move.

It was slow. Easy.

It could have been frantic and passionate and powerful, but there was something very right about the way his eyes never left hers. About the way he kept repeating how much he loved her. About how she gasped his name. About the candlelight that flickered over the skin, casting shadows that didn't care where she ended and he began.

The orgasm built quietly, spreading through her veins like a comfortable warm blanket that she never wanted to let go of.

And then he broke. His face turned red, corded muscles standing out starkly from his neck and the regular easy rhythm they'd built fell apart.

He thrust upwards, powerful thighs driving his pelvis into her over and over again and she could only clutch his shoulders as he pounded into her.

He came with a shout that echoed off the stone walls, as he collapsed into the bed and drew her down atop him.

She lay against him, head tucked firmly under his chin, hands stroking over her back, across her ass, leaving her trembling as they both tried to catch their breaths.

Moving seemed too difficult a task and one she was happy to leave to him. When he shifted them to the side she curled into him until all she could see was the wide expanse of his chest and the arms he surrounded her with.

Tears pricked her eyes almost immediately and suddenly she couldn't breathe.

She wanted to tell him to not do it. To run away with her. To leave it all behind.

But he never would.

And she wouldn't either.

His hand cupped her head, shushing her as he pressed kisses to her temple.

They'd go forward no matter how badly it hurt because it was the only thing they could do.

She could only hope that somehow they'd come out the other side relatively unscathed.

They could survive anything. As long as they survived.