Note: We'll never get the sex scene we want, or semi sex scene or, hell, even half naked people kissing a lot, so I'm doing my part and posting fanfic! It's not exactly explicit, but it's the kind of smut I like to write. I hope you guys enjoy it.

Unbeta'ed, so I apologize for all slips of mind. You read it so many times over that your eyes simply pass over mistakes without even noticing them.

xx

He kisses her with the need of a man who lost everything and was reborn with a second chance; kisses her with promises of things he isn't sure of, of things he can't keep, things he hopes he will see through. The kiss is invasive, demanding, beyond his self-control. A kiss that reminds him she's here and she's his and his brains chants she's alive, she's alive, she's alive.

He pushes her back until they hit the cabinet and his body is pressing against hers. He can't feel any of the contact but knows she can, hopes she feels all of the sweet pressure he can't, knows that the way she opens her legs and allows him to rest between them as he pushes her up is indicative that this time he's doing it right. Savors the sweet taste of the moan she lets out into his mouth when he puts his hands on her hips and pulls her towards him, adding friction between their groins.

He wants to apologize for everything he's done; for shooting Howard, for sleeping with Sarah, for allowing her to push him away, for letting another man sleep in her bed, for not making a move and taking a chance when they were still naïve and young. He wants to apologize for hating Lexie and trying to manipulate her into killing him, into doing one thing she isn't willing to do. He wants to apologize for allowing her to go into the barn and losing herself so she wouldn't lose him, because she chose 27 years over and over instead of an eternity without him.

There are so many things he wants to say he's sorry for, but he will never apologize for putting her above everything else.

He slides his hands under her shirt, fingers skimming her sides until they reach the hook of her bra. He fumbles with it, but she's distracted with kissing him and doesn't notice. He can feel her skin but not the hook and in a frustrated failed attempt, he pushes her bra up instead, cupping her breasts, letting his fingers splay around the smooth skin, palms pressing against hardened nipples and he wants to kneel down in reverence, wants to remove all of the clothing between them and bring his lips to her skin. Then she moans; leans her chest into his hands, tighten her legs around his waist and lets his lips go.

Nathan pulls back only enough to look at her, at her closed eyes and parted lips and when she looks up at him he wants to stop time and save this moment forever in his mind's eyes. She looks up at him with fire in her eyes, darkened irises and flushed cheeks, and Jesus Christ he's never seen her like this before. She's turned on and he can barely take it.

"Nathan?" she whispers in a half confused, half dazed voice and he's taken out of his stupor long enough to realize the doubt that is creeping into her brain because of his sudden stillness. He'll never be able to understand how such a strong, amazing woman can be so insecure, especially with him.

"I love you," he says, kissing her lips, then her forehead, then nuzzles her nose with his and his hands are back at her waist, rubbing circles against her skin. "Please, don't ever doubt that."

Instead of answering, she wraps her fingers around the end of his shirt, pulls it up slowly, kissing every inch of revealed skin, making his muscles go taut with the electric contact. Nathan takes a deep breath, lets her have her time with him, but when his shirt is off he takes his turn, presses their half-naked bodies together and kisses her until he can't breathe anymore. She has herself wrapped around him, arms and legs locked around his body and skin to skin contact that is driving him half crazy. He picks her up effortlessly and moves to the bed.

He's never had her quite like this: firm under his body, pale skin exposed, rosy nipple hardened to attention, eyes darkened with lust and unfamiliar long hair spilled out over her pillows. Her fingers wave into his hair, one hand grabbing his shoulder while she pushes her hips against his, urging him on and he needs to get all of their clothes off, needs to feel what she's doing.

Nathan leans down to kiss her, needy lips against needy lips, his tongue pushes way inside her mouth and she welcomes him readily, the feel of her mouth becoming familiar with each stroke. He lets her lips go to kiss his way down, from her chin, to sucking gently on her neck, down to her chest and finally, finally taking one pink nipple into his mouth. Audrey takes in a deep breath, squirms slightly under him until the feel of his warm mouth on her breast becomes familiar, the gentle suckling making her blood rush into her veins.

Nathan circles his tongue around her, kissing and licking and sucking until her skin is red and she's seeing starts; then he moves to her other breast and starts it all over again.

Audrey tugs at the waistband of his jeans and brings his attention back to her face. "You need to take these off."

He obeys; removes his pants quickly, helps her take hers down, then settles between her legs, all skin and warmth and Nathan's brain almost short circuits. She's smooth, soft, toned legs and even with their height difference it feels like they were made of matching molds. They fit so perfectly he wants to stay forever wrapped inside her body.

She wraps her legs around him and rubs herself against his hardness until they're both breathing hard and Nathan wants to pull back and slow down, to spend to entire night doing what they denied themselves for too many months. "Audrey…" he whispers a half warning but she kisses his voice away.

Nathan brushes a hand down her side, fingertips gently caressing the outside of her breast as they trail a fire path down her body, make blood and heat pool low in her belly when his hand finds her hip and his fingers splay between her legs. She's wet and warm and more than ready for him. He rubs two fingers over her swollen bud and she moans, a mewling sound rising from the back of her throat and he tries to save the moment in his mind because this is something he will want to reply over and over and over.

"Nathan…" she begs, rubbing her hips against his again, but he keeps his hand between them, the other holds her hip, keeping her in place, and he kisses with her a year of pent up passion and need and as his tongue pushes between her lips, his finger slides inside her, moving in the same rhythm, the same need, the same urgency.

He can feel her body tensing up, her muscles becoming rigid so he stops his movements, removes his hand from between them, from between her legs, and replace his finger with the only thing they need between them, fills her up before she has time to moan in disappointment and makes her let out a deep, throaty sound that makes him twitch in ecstasy.

"Nathan," she moans again as he moves inside her, thrusts in a slow motion until she relaxes around him. "Nathan." He looks down at her, blue eyes almost black, swollen lips and flushed cheeks and brings a hand up to rest his palm against her face and she leans into his touch. "I love you," she says in a small voice, attention split between the friction of their movements and the words she wants to say.

He kisses her quick, gets lost in the feelings and sensations, revels in the tightening of his belly and her legs around his hips and her muscles around his hardness, and for a moment forgets what he wants to say back. When he feels her body going rigid under him he increases the pace of his thrusts, digs his fingers into her hair and admires how her skin is glistening with sweat, how her eyelashes are so long they shadow over her cheekbones, how strands of hair cling to her face, how her fingernails dig so hard into his skin he's sure there will be marks in the morning.

"I'm so in love with you it hurts sometimes." His words startle her and she opens her eyes to look at him right when orgasm breaks through her and this is a look Nathan swears he will never forget.

They doze off afterwards; sleepily wrap themselves around each other and let fear and anger and worry fade to the back of their heads. She wakes him up a little later, hand brushing over him, making blood rush south, coming into attention when she climbs on top of him to ride the slowest rhythm she can find, lazily bringing them both to orgasm again. Later into the night it's his turn to drive her slowly crazy with his lips between her legs and his tongue pushing her over.

For one night they can pretend it's not them against the rest of the world, they can pretend it's only them cocooned in the safety of her four walls, the wind blowing softly outside, the waves crashing gently against the rocks and the silence of the small wee hours is a respectful silent congratulations of two people finally becoming, not a warning.