Author's Notes: This is where the M rating comes into play. Just a warning.

They barely made it through the door before she attacked him, and he led her through the house, flipping lights on and off as they made their way through various rooms, neither one noticing the details or their surroundings, each totally focused on their partner; on the sensation.

He wrenched her shirt over her head, almost seeming to hesitantly leave her lips to detach the bothersome clothing, and he left her in her bra and capris.

Pausing to look at her while she breathed heavily, heart beating impatiently and her chest rising and falling in every intake of oxygen, his eyelids were shadowed by his dusty lashes as he slowly raised one hand to caress the outside of the lacy white underwear which hugged her form, almost seemed to melt into her skin. She stood, leaning up against the wall as his hand whispered across the cup of her bra, and he could almost feel the warm skin radiating through the skimpy piece of fabric. He could almost feel her warmth, her brilliant light – he could almost feel her burning him, as though she was the brightest of suns.

He could see her, shining; though he, instantly blinded by her beauty, retreated into his shadowy recesses, retreated into his lonesome night; where he could see, but was empty. Robbed of her light, he was alone…

His eyelids fluttered down as he swiftly undid the front clasp of her bra, sliding the small white straps off of her shoulders, exquisitely slowly in contrast to the original removal, watching as he raised anxious goose bumps on her skin with his contact. Her arms traveled up over her head, hands joining high on the wall, and he, seizing a golden opportunity, took one hand and restrained her limbs there, wanting her totally submissive beneath his touch. He wanted to watch her reactions, her responses, to his kiss, to his touch.

This; what had started out as a fling, was quickly becoming much more to him than a one-night-stand. For once, he actually cared about his partner's satisfaction instead of just requesting a quick release. This girl – this silver-eyed 'Just Cecilia' – she intrigued him.

Her utter confidence, while a brilliant mask, was no match for Gambit's ability to see the quickly revealed emotions which lay below her surface – a subtle insecurity; a dissatisfaction with herself and her eyes. He wanted to please her; to give her assurance in herself and her abilities.

Though she tried to hide it with her sensual bravado, he suspected that she was just an experienced virgin. He would show her the arts of the bedroom – the arts of the bed; the way no man would ever teach her again.

Deserting her held-aloft hands, he bent down to study her pink areoles, carefully rubbing them into tight peaks. As her eyelids fluttered closed, relaxing to his intimate ministrations, he pinched her nipple, and she took in a sharp breath of surprise, but he quickly replaced his hand with his mouth, gently but persistently suckling the round globe. While his mouth attended to one, his hand repeated his ministrations on the other, leaving her gasping and sighing contentedly under his touch.

She twined her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer and tugging on his curly, hazelnut locks, jerking and caressing them in time to her breath – which thoroughly depended on his touch.

He deserted her nipple, head pulling away from her hands, only to trail feather-light kisses up her collarbone to that small hollow directly behind her ear. He kissed that hollow, his tongue snaking out, and her chest rose in a small breath. She let out a small cry in slight pain as he insistently tugged on her earlobe, flicking it between his teeth with his tongue. "Cher, I might hurt you, but you know I'll please you in the end." As if fulfilling his promise, his hand snaked up to hold her breast in his hand, to cup it lightly. His other hand snuck down to her waist line.

Knowing that imagination was the driving force of the human body, he looked down to navigate his way around her pants while whispering in her ear. "Imagine if I could touch you like no other man has before. Imagine if I could please you beyond your greatest imaginings – if I could make you explode in pleasure beneath my hands." As he whispered, his voice softened, his Cajun accent almost disappearing in the haze of his lust.

"…If I could be your wildest dreams, sha…I know you've had dreams…can I touch you? Cecilia?" he asked as his hand slithered down to hold her core through her pants. "Can I touch you?" he repeated softly, less for her benefit than for dramatics. His other hand snuck behind her back, softly arching her body toward him, holding her flush up against his throbbing erection. God, he wanted her.

"Yes," she moaned, grinding against him, eyelids fluttering closed. "Yes – please."

Remy shuddered in desire as she thrust toward him. He gritted his teeth in forced restraint, and looked away, as though recognizing their surroundings for the first time.

"Cecilia," he said, voice low and husky, "I won't take you in a hallway."

She nodded confidently, coming into her own now that she felt desired. "Where to?" she asked.

"That way," he jerked a hand vaguely toward a room on his right, not focused on where but ihow/i. How he was going to take her – how he was going to savor every inch of her. "I mean – well…" he took her arm, and pointed it in the direction he'd said. "That way, you see?"

"Thank you for remembering," she nodded acquiescingly, granting him a small, beautiful smile. Reaching down, she played with the ties on her pants, expertly unbuttoning them and letting them fall to the ground. She stepped out from around him, turning her back to him to expose her lace-clad buttocks, and looked over her shoulder at him as she reached behind herself and squeezed her body through her underwear.

He stifled a groan. "Cecilia…" he trailed off, but she wasn't done.

Leaning up against the wall and facing him again, she ran her hands over her shoulders, cupping her breasts, and letting her hands trail downwards, toward her navel. She inched her feet apart, opening her hips wider, and let her fingers whisper over her underwear, rubbing her crotch. She threw her head back against the wall, reveling in her suggestive playacting. "Ohh," she moaned, letting her hand trail down between her legs, her index finger outlining the barely discernable crease of her nether lips through her panties. "Ooh, Remy," she closed her eyes, thrusting her chest forward. "Oh, please, Remy…" One hand whispered beneath her underwear.

With a growl, he strode toward her purposefully. Kissing her full on the mouth, roughly and passionately, pinning her against the wall once more. His hand slipped behind her to hitch her leg up around his waist, and his hand slid under her, caressing the bottom of her thigh and lightly touching her core, fingers pulling back and forth from that small patch of skin between her ass and her core to that bead of pleasure, throbbing in need at the center of her body. She arched back at his sensitive touch, thrusting her chest forward against his.

Groaning, he wrenched his shirt off, and she smirked, running her hand over his chest in appreciation. "Mm," she murmured. "You're so good…I bet you're even better in bed."

He threw his head back as her hand reached down to squeeze him, and his head swam, visions of her screaming his name beneath him running through his mind. As she shivered while he fingered her through her underwear, he quickly stopped, picking her up bride-style to carry her to his bed.

"Cher," he breathed softly as he laid her down, "this is where ah'll have you."

She shuddered at the feel of the silk sheets on her skin, arching her back and stretching. She reached out in the air, seeing and feeling his energy, but unable to tell exactly where…ah, there he was. She caressed his waist, her fingers dancing across his sensitive skin, and he flinched, a kind laugh bubbling up from his throat.

Nervous all the same, she shied away, but he caught her hands in his own before she could withdraw completely. "Boo," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice, his lilting Cajun accent seducing her, "ah'm ticklish there." He laid over her, hugging her against him.

She smiled to herself, feeling more confident now. His warm chest was like a furnace on her skin. She could only imagine how hot he'd make her feel later on.

"And while ah appreciate you making me laugh so, cher, it is rather…distracting." With that, he kissed her firmly, caressing her waist with only his fingertips.

She pulled away, her hands coming up between them, and covered his mouth with the pads of her fingers. Thinking it a cue, he kissed him, groaning softly. "Boo, your skin is so soft."

She shook her head. "No," she whispered, "no."

He blinked at her. "But it is, cher."

"I know, but…no. This isn't fair." She frowned, feeling uncomfortable and exposed.

He swallowed, wondering if he was about to regret this. "Alright, cher. What can ah do to make you comfortable, then?"

"Take off your pants," she whispered, not suggestively at all, but the innocent way the words fell off her tongue nearly made him moan aloud.

Her response completely floored him, and his jaw dropped at her forward request. "Are you sure, boo?" he asked, "because, may, I think the result may not be very fair, either."

"What makes you say that?" she asked, her hands caressing his jaw, feeling the hollows beneath his eyes.

"Uh," he breathed, "Ah'm not wearing a stitch underneath," he admitted.

She shrugged, grinning in amusement toward what she hoped was his face. "I don't mind," she smiled, "after all, it'll be that way eventually, won't it?"

Remy had to admit to himself that there was some logic behind her sentiment. "Of course, cher," he nodded. "Your wish is my command."

She waited, listening to the shuffle of the leather against his skin. "Were those customized for you?" she asked, kissing his shoulder.

He nodded. "I mean – yes," he said, not sure of how much she could sense.

"Just curious," she murmured, and made a noise of surprise in her throat when she felt him against her.

He laughed softly. "Surprised, cher?" he asked her. "Would that be good or bad?"

She blinked, floored, and a little bit frightened. "Both," she admitted.

"Don't be," he soothed her, "it'll be alright. Ah'll please you, ah promise."

She nodded, trusting him. "If you say so," she said, nervous butterflies doing acrobatics in her chest.

He could sense her fear. "Cher," he soothed her, lightly combing his fingers through her hair, "you pretend to be this seductive goddess – no, you are a seductive goddess – but underneath I see that you're just as nervous as I am."

She blinked in surprise, tilting her head back as if she could see him. "You?" she asked. "Nervous? You don't look it," she shook her head, disbelieving him.

He shrugged. "Ah, but ah am. Ah am wanting this to be perfect for you, boo. Ah am wanting to please you and not wanting to push you too far."

She nodded, believing him. "Alright," she said.

"Now," he murmured, kissing her forehead, "tell me what you're nervous about, boo."

She shrugged, tilting her head away from him. "Well…honestly, I'm nervous that…" She proceeded to mumble something under her breath.

He gaped at her, his suspicions confirmed. This woman beneath him was definitely nothing more than an experienced virgin. "You don't think it'll fit?" he repeated.

She shook her head enthusiastically.

He smiled down at her, feeling an odd sense of protectiveness for this woman, this Cecilia. "Oh, cher, I wouldn't worry about that. You'll see, there are ways."

"But – "

He silenced her with a kiss, and his hands began roaming down her body, exploring her navel, and a triangle of fine blonde hairs nestled below her hips greeted his fingertips as he slipped them beneath her underwear. He felt her tense beneath him, and he made his way back up to her face, kissing her cheeks. "Now, now, cher," he murmured, "you made a bet, and you've made your bed – now you must lie in it."

She nodded silently.

"I promise I won't hurt you," he assured her. "Just relax."

"But," she protested, "how can you not hurt me? I haven't done this before; and I know what happens the first time." A note of panic had risen in her voice.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he repeated, kissing her gently. "I promise I won't hurt you."

He licked her bottom lip, massaging her bare shoulders. "It'll be alright, you'll see. Just trust me, cher."

He could feel her reluctance, but she relaxed beneath him all the same. He kissed both of her nipples before sliding back down her body, and he kissed her inner thighs. She held her breath in nervous anticipation, not knowing what he'd do next, but he felt how she'd tensed, and he smiled against her skin. "Just breathe, Cecilia. Give in to your desires. Trust me," he repeated.

And as he pulled her panties to one side and slipped his index finger inside her, she melted. Unfamiliar sensations gathered there in her stomach, like the butterflies in her abdomen, but lower…and these definitely weren't butterflies. He pulled out his finger slowly, and tasted how wet she was, sighing softly to himself in satisfaction. "Cher, you're so hot," he murmured contentedly, "and you taste so good."

She sighed, shuddering at the thought of what he was doing. She only wished that she could see him.

"You were so responsive earlier," he reminded her. "Tell me what you're feeling? Please?"

For a moment she thought that would be her undoing; she was overcome with shyness and desire at the same time. As he peeled her underwear down her legs, she shivered, but knew that she was just as exposed as he was now.

"I feel…shy," she said after a moment. "And inexperienced."

He nodded in understanding. "You're beautiful. Tell me, cher, what do you feel when I do this?" he asked, slipping two fingers inside her and beginning to massage her clit with his thumb.

She smothered her cry of pleasure by covering her mouth with her hand, and he immediately pulled away. "Now, now," he corrected her, laying her hands above her head. "If that's what you're feeling, I want to hear it," he whispered, gently biting her nipple. She mewled softly in the back of her throat.

His two fingers found their way inside her liquid heat once more, and he began thrusting slowly this time, finding a rhythm as he simultaneously stroked her clit. She gasped the first time, and moaned softly as he continued, spreading her legs for him, slowly losing her inhibitions. As he began moving faster and faster, the gyrating of his fingers coming faster now, she began to lose herself, unsure of where she ended or where he began.

"How do you feel now?" he asked her again, and she could only moan loudly in answer to him. She closed her eyes, and felt him rise over her, positioning himself between her legs just as she exploded with pleasure.

She shuddered with the beauty of her first orgasm, writhing and riding it out. She contracted around him, tightening over and over again, throbbing with fulfilled desire. As it subsided, she felt a slight pinch, but brushed it away, too euphoric now.

He continued to thrust inside her, and as his hands came up to cup her cheeks as he kissed her again, she became confused; what was he using to - ? Oh, she thought to herself, realizing the truth, and kissed him back passionately.

She gave herself over to him then, now trusting him. He'd been right, after all; he hadn't hurt her at all.

Remy closed his eyes; she was so tight, and she felt so good. He buried himself in her over and over again, breathing heavily now. He'd given her pleasure, and now it was his turn. He'd never felt so close to any woman he'd had before Cecilia, and he was truly amazed that such an inexperienced woman could surprise him the way Cecilia had.

"What," he asked, "are you feeling now?" It was a strain for him to speak; it'd been too long since he'd slept with a woman, and he was exercising all his control now, not wanting this to be over too soon.

"Remy," she cried out, "please!" She didn't know what she was asking for, or what he would give, but she knew she needed something; it was just beyond her grasp. Why couldn't she put a name to it, what was it?

But Remy knew what she wanted, and he wanted it too, and so he moved faster, kissing her quickly and thrusting into her, deeper, faster, and harder.

Moments later, it seemed that the stars themselves had exploded behind the couple's eyes, and Remy collapsed beside Cecilia, having spent himself inside her.

Cecilia turned to him, rolling onto her side, her heart pounding in her chest. "Remy, I want to tell you something," she whispered.

He caressed her flushed cheeks, knowing that he would have listened to anything she'd wanted to tell him, anything in the world. "Yes?" he asked.

She was silent for a moment, as though she were nervous, or hesitant, though after what they'd just done, he didn't see any reason for her to be shy. "Remy…for a moment…just a moment…it was like I could see."

He gathered her in his arms, a sense of care overcoming him. "Well, cher," he murmured in her ear, kissing her forehead. "It seems that you may have won our bet, after all."