Harry leant over Ruth as he kissed her hard, the bulk of him pushing her against the window. She matched his ardour. They met opened mouthed, hot and deep.

Frustrated at the space still between them, he grabbed her by the waist and dragged her closer to him. Ruth groaned into his mouth, her skin tingling at the contact. Harry's cock throbbed painfully in his trousers. He paused to look at her.

Her eyes were screwed shut as she reclined against the windowpane, panting. Her pelvis was titled towards him, legs splayed open wantonly. She was yielding to him, he thought to himself. There was no time to think of the consequences of this. He ran a hand down over her long skirt and up under again, pressing his advantage.

Ruth gasped at the feel of his large hands caressing her thigh. Her eyes open to find Harry's intense gaze drinking her in. She watched him lick his lips as he took in her open mouth and heaving chest. Before she knew it, his fingers were brushing against her knickers.

"Ah," she cried, as he roughly thrust two fingers inside her. The angle awkward, it was at the sharp divide between pleasure and pain.

Harry thrust again, and again. "Ah," she cried, "Fuck, Harry."

"That's the second time today you've told me to fuck off, Ruth. Where's my sweet flower gone? My shy little analyst?" he smirked, voice low and thick.

"I told you," Ruth glared, "I'm not naïve. And I'm not… shy, either."

Harry's eyes twinkled as if he didn't quite believe her.

Ruth pushed his hand away and climbed over to straddle him in the driver's seat. She sat back tantalisingly on his knees as Harry grabbed the lever to shift the seat back as far as it could go. His eyes were drawn to her white hands as she hiked her skirt up and kneeled awkwardly to pull her knickers down.

"Oof," said Ruth, as Harry pulled her back down onto his lap, this time so the warmth between her legs met his hardness. He groaned at the contact, nearly losing it as her scent filled his senses, the scent of a hot, wet woman.

Ruth arched her neck, pressing into him as he bucked against her. "Mmm," she moaned to encourage him.

"Rock against me," Harry muttered, grabbing her bottom and guiding her. "Yes."

"Ah," she gasped, grabbing a handful of his hair.

Harry kissed her again.

Neither had a care that it was daylight still, and they were in Harry's car in the middle of a field where anyone could drive by.

"Now, Harry," said Ruth, lips ghosting across his cheek, "Take me."

Harry groaned, hands fumbling for his zipper. His cock sprang proudly out, nestling between his Savile Row suit and her bunched up skirt. Much like the man, it was hard and thick and flushed pink with arousal.

He grabbed it by the base as Ruth perched above it. Harry penetrated her slowly, marvelling in the exquisite bliss of finally having the woman he had lusted over for two years. There was no time to think of the consequences. They both wanted this, and that would have to be enough. His shoulder muffled Ruth's wail.

Harry began a slow rhythm, thrusting up into her as she held tightly to his neck.

"How's that?" he panted, twisting his pelvis.

"Oh," she cried, head still buried against him.

But it wasn't enough. She could still think, think about the things that had happened before and the things that would happen after.

"Do it… harder, Harry. Harder."

He started to thrust in earnest.

"More. Harder."

Harry thrust harder and harder into her tight warmth, until he felt he must have been hurting her.

"Harder," she still cried as she came.

It felt exquisite. Harry found himself losing it sooner then he'd thought, quickly trying to pull himself out as he spurted inside her, the rest spilling onto her skirt.

"Shit, shit," Harry said, "I didn't meant to… I think I got some in you."

But there was no answer.

"Ruth?"

She was crying against his shoulder, he realised. Deep, bone racking sobs.

"Ruth, did I… did I hurt you?" Harry swallowed.

She kept crying, her tears chilling his skin. She was becoming hysterical. Harry begun to wonder if he had made the wrong decision, if he had taken advantage of a cherished female colleague under his command in her grief. But she had said she didn't need protecting, and he had stopped thinking with his head.

"I-I'm sorry," he said softly, "I should have realised, you wouldn't want…"

"-Don't, Harry," Ruth cut him off, finally lifting her head, so he could see her red rimmed eyes, glowing with anger.

"You said-"

"Just don't! Just take me home," she cried, scrambling off him.