Okay this chapter is pretty much meant to pick up right where the other one left off, this time from Emily's point of view. Hope you like this and Jesus am I ever nervous! Okay here goes:

As Norman came back to the sofa, she watched his every move, unable to take her eyes off of him. Unable to look away from the way he was very noticeably undressing her with his eyes and she wished more than anything that she already was naked and writhing beneath them. She would be a complete liar if she hadn't fantasized about this exact moment. He was Norman Reedus and he had that panty- dropping stare that was aimed her way right now, finessed down to a science. He might claim he had no game but his eyes told a completely different tale and the way he was looking at her right now sent a flood of wetness between her legs where a deep ache had settled. An ache that was begging to be soothed.

She quickly scanned her memories over her past sexual experience and she came to the conclusion that she had never wanted anyone more than she wanted Norman right now. He placed the tray of food on the table in front of them and sat down beside her, turning to her instantly and she wasn't sure who launched themselves at whom but they were suddenly tangled up, limbs askew, and it was a few seconds before she dizzyingly came up for air at the same time he was gasping for breath from their fevered kisses, and she realized she was straddling him on the sofa, her fingers curled into his shirt.

Lips tingling, face unbearably heated, she didn't know where she found the energy to speak but she finally got out. "You're a very good kisser."

He shook his head and groaned and pressed his lips to her forehead and leaned back against the back of the sofa, just studying her and she felt suddenly awkward with her thighs pressed to either side of his hips and she squirmed a little making to sit back down beside him and suddenly his palms were pressed to her ass holding her in place on either side.

"Going somewhere?" Her eyes locked on his and she saw the playfulness in his gaze. He very purposefully gripped her ass and she could feel the warmth of his hands through the fabric and it just made her ache even more thinking about his roughened fingers sliding across her bare skin. And that it was Norman's hands that would be doing it. It made her heart pound faster just thinking about it.

She took a shaky breath and shook her head. "Nowhere else I want to be at the moment." She curled her fingers into the collar of his shirt and leaned in to press her lips back to his and he wasted no time in parting her lips with his tongue, slipping it inside, exploring, licking, tasting, the burned tobacco taste permeating her senses and holy Christ, it was intoxicating kissing him like this.

She felt his hands slide over her ass, gripping her tightly, kneading a few times and then gradually his fingers trailed up to her shirt, lifting the hem tentatively, his hands slipping up under the fabric, palms coming to rest on her bare back and it was involuntary the way she arched into his hand. A groan, almost guttural, slipped from his lips, his pleasure at her movement evident not just in the warm breath that he breathed into her but also in the very noticeable bulge that was now pressing against her. What happened next was instinct taking over as she pressed her core down onto him and the pressure was not nearly enough and now it was her turn.

She moaned into his mouth as he gasped and rocked his hips up into her. This was going a whole lot faster than she expected, but she couldn't stop herself. She didn't think he could either. Somehow they'd fallen under some sort of force that was beyond their control and all they seemed to be able to do was give in and let it take over.

Maybe that's the conclusion he came to as well because suddenly his fingers were insistently pulling on her shirt and she held her arms up so he could pull it over her head at the same time her fingers went to the buttons on his, her fingers deftly working the buttons open, revealing inch by glorious inch of his broad chest. She was so caught up in working his shirt from his shoulders that she missed where he'd undone her bra and now his eyes were cutting into her, his fingers looped through the straps on her shoulders as if asking permission.

This was one area she'd always been pretty shy about with previous lovers; her chest size. Her mother and sisters had always been so well endowed but she got zero of those genes evidently. She was a B cup at best and had always been embarrassed that she was so small.

"Hey, it's just me." Her eyes flew to his and she flushed bright red.

"Exactly. It's you." She giggled and shrugged. She didn't know exactly how to say 'I wish my tits were bigger' so she didn't say anything.

He didn't either. Not at first. His eyes said everything he needed to.

Can I? And she nodded her consent and watched his face as he gently slid the strap of her bra down over her shoulder, slowly, his fingers just barely ghosting over the surface, chills erupting everywhere.

Cobalt orbs looked back at her as his fingers toyed with the strap on the other side.

This side too?

She nodded again, almost imperceptibly mesmerized by the look of absolute open desire on his face, his pupils blown, lips parted like he was ready to devour every inch of her and oh my god, yes, she wanted that. He didn't take his eyes off of her while he slowly slipped the other strap over her shoulder and let the fabric fall forward, exposing her to him. His gaze locked in on hers and then he leaned back and just looked at her. His eyes darted back and forth over her breasts, resting for a bit on her nipples which were standing at attention and then he looked back at her again, his steely gaze cut into her and she swore she could already feel his lips on her, lighting her up beneath his touch. She barely breathed as he held her gaze.

"You're fucking beautiful, you know that?" He breathed and she nearly melted at his words. Just like that she felt somehow "enough" as his mouth was instantly on hers, his hands caressing her bare shoulders and chills erupted all over her body chasing themselves down her spine.

In one fluid movement, he spanned his hands around her back and hoisted her up and stood, walking them to the bedroom part of the suite as their tongues continued to slide against the other, probing, exploring, and as he carried her, her legs wrapped around his waist she was nearly zinging with anticipation of the moment he laid her back on the bed and it was everything she could imagine and more as he slotted his body over hers, holding himself suspended off of her for a moment as he silently took in her expression and she couldn't help drawing her bottom lip into her mouth and chewing on it, wondering just what was going through that dizzyingly sexy head of his.

Turns out she didn't have to wonder long. "We don't have to do this, Em. I mean, we don't have to-". His expression was so tender, so genuine she reached one hand up and put her finger over his lips.

"If I didn't want this I would have stopped you before you took my bra off." It was true. That was truly the point of no return for her. She had fantasized about this a million times or more and the thing was, it was even better than her wildest ones. Even the song she wrote about him probably couldn't cover how she was feeling right now. She had the idle thought that maybe she would have to write another one.

Norman took hold of her hand and just held it as he kissed first the fingertip that silenced him and then every finger after that, his lips ghosting over the surface and her breathing stuttered as his tongue darted out, and he turned her hand over and traced a line over her palm. Suddenly she had a flash of his tongue between her legs, tracing a similar line and a deep moan formed in the back of her throat and his eyes darted back to hers and it ignited something in him because then his lips were on hers and again and everything was down to senses after that. Only it was all heightened or seemed exaggerated somehow.

She heard him whisper in her ear "I want you so bad, Em." At the same time she felt his erection pressing into her leg. She reached between them and fumbled with his button on his pants, freeing it and unzipping him and very tentatively reached inside his waistband, coming into immediate contact with the rock hard and swollen head of his cock. It startled her so much that he wasn't wearing underwear (though she'd heard the rumor, she'd have to be deaf not to) that she gasped into his mouth. His breathing turned ragged as her fingers closed around his thick member and the gasp turned into an immediate moan as she expertly moved her hand up and down, letting the velvet skin of his dick slide in her palm. She experimentally ran her thumb across the head, smearing pre-cum all over it. She pulled her hand out of his waistband and he groaned again, this time in frustration.

She pulled her lips from his with a pop and his eyes were on hers as she brought her thumb to her lips and darted her tongue out, tasting him. She grinned as she watched his eyes roll back in his head in pleasure. She reached down and worked his pants from his hips, pulling them down just a bit for better access, his cock springing from his pants.

"Fucking Christ, Emily." He gasped as she moved her hand back over his dick again. Her name was an oath that died on his lips as she giggled. She liked having this kind of power over him. She had never thought of it that way, as having control but she sort of liked it. Then again, she kind of wanted him to take the reins.

She brought her knee up, allowing him to settle between her legs and she experimentally rocked her hips up into him and felt his hardness pressing against her core and now it was her turn to moan.

He pulled away from her and she watched his every move as he finished removing his pants and set to work on removing the rest of her clothing. Rough, work-worn fingers came up to unbutton and then unzip her pants and she lifted her hips from the bed to allow him to take them down over her thighs and cast them on the floor, leaving her in nothing but her lilac lace thongs. She knew purple was his favorite color and she thought maybe somewhere inside she had known this would happen as soon as they were alone and had a moment of opportunity.

She thought he'd immediately remove them but it surprised her that he left them on, choosing instead to run his fingers over every single seam that had been stitched into them, like he admired the fabric.

Leave it to a man who went commando to have a panty kink, she thought.

A saucy smile crept up on her face as she watched him trace the stitching, his fingers stuttering over the fabric, getting caught on the lace and she practically ached for those callused fingers to be on her bare body. At that thought, her legs fell open, spreading herself and she wondered how much the tiny fabric left to the imagination.

"So pretty." He whispered as his fingers dipped south and he traced a different line, his index finger just barely skimming her outer lips through the fabric of her panties. She felt a flood of wetness at taking in the absolute smoke in his gaze as his eyes flitted from her clothed core and back to her eyes. She wondered if he could see her wetness from his perspective. She wondered if he could see the desire in her eyes as heavy lidded as they felt. "So wet already." Well, that answered at least one question.

She closed her eyes against the unbearable throbbing in her clit and fought the urge to squeeze her thighs around his hand. Fought the urge to rock her hips up into his fingers. Fought the urge to get up and shove him back, straddle his hips, and impale herself over him. His fingers teased the hem of her panties just over her sex and she was nearly insane with trying to keep still until she could take it no more her hips began to writhe under him and as she looked at him, studying her, learning her, she realized that was his intent all along. To make her crazy and it was working. She was aching for him to touch her, put his fingers inside her, God, just anything to ease the burn that had settled between her legs.

"Please." It was a whispered plea that came out almost broken as finally, blessedly he chuckled low and moved the fabric aside and as soon as his finger came in contact with her clit a starburst of desire ripped through her body and settled behind her eyes and she couldn't help it, she rocked her pelvis up into his hand, craving the contact, God, just more. And he gave it to her. His fingers began to move more earnestly and he rocked back on his heels. She let her legs fall all the way to the side spreading herself completely, giving him full access, as he slid his finger over her clit, over and over and over again and soon she was thrusting into his hand and she could hear him calling words of encouragement, softly, his own voice a rasp and the only other sound that could be heard was her soft moans that were getting louder and the wet sounds of fingers sliding on her sex.

"Come for me, Em. Oh God. So fucking beautiful."

Finally she felt him reach up with his other hand and still her hips as he removed his finger from her clit and slid it lower, lower and slowly, toyed with her opening until he slipped it inside her, and holy Christ if his thick finger felt this good, she could not even imagine what his dick would feel like. He began to slowly thrust his finger in and out of her, pulsing and hitting that one glorious spot over and over again. It was mere moments later when she felt it wash over her and she went to another plane where she was hyperaware of every blood cell that pulsed through her veins, deliciously rippling through her, then crashing waves of intense pleasure ripped through her, from between her legs out through her spine until it felt like she was sucked into yet another realm where she was floating, cascading back down to earth. When she finally opened her eyes, a quiet hum escaped her lips and she took in his expressive gaze of wonder, she couldn't help it. A happy giggle bubbled up out of her and he was grinning too as he settled himself over her, his fingers threading through her hair.

"I swear to god Emily, I have never seen anyone come as beautifully as you do." He said, his voice almost rapturous.

Her eyes opened a little further, finally coming down from the glorious orgasm he had given her and she laughed. "No way. I'm a mess." She brought her hand up to her hair and smoothed it back from her forehead.

The tender look that washed into his eyes was something she'd never forget, his eyes slipping down over her before quickly meeting hers again. "A beautiful mess." He leaned down and his lips met hers and she sighed into his mouth. Nothing could be more perfect than this moment. Except she was wrong. Each moment after was more perfect than the last.

He positioned himself over her and it was a silent agreement to move forward as he lined himself up at her entrance and he pressed his lips to hers as he eased himself inside. He was so gentle, so tender, so careful with her that it almost brought tears to her eyes. His tongue probed her lips and while he rocked his hips into her, filling her, engulfing her with feeling and it wasn't long before she was coming again, gasping and she pulled her mouth from his, burying her face in his neck.

"Oh God, Norman." Her release was intense, vibrating and she shook beneath him as he groaned and grunted, gathering her up in his arms, holding her to him, their breath mingled, sweat forming on their bodies as they worked themselves to a fevered rhythm of two people just in the moment. Together.

"Fuck. Emily. I'm gonna." He didn't have to tell her, she could feel it. Every cord in his body stood on edge and his spine went rigid and her thought was he was so wrong. He was the beautiful one. His strokes became more sure, longer, and he bent his head to hers and now it was his turn to bury his face into her as his orgasm claimed him, molded him, changed him into this thing of beauty undulating above her, around her, in her.

It may have been minutes later or it could have been hours that she was wrapped in his arms, the sheet pulled loosely around them, she pulled her head from his chest.

"Well that went a lot faster than I thought it would." She grinned at him, happiness spreading over her. She didn't wonder at anything, at any of this, and that was weird for her. Normally the moment right after sex was over and the hormones settled and the thoughts crept back in, the panic settled into her as well as she began to question what she had just done. Question if it was going any further or if she'd just given herself to someone and end up getting nothing in return. She knew, with Norman, this was not the case. It should have scared her, but it didn't. Still, she looked at him with some trepidation.

He chuckled at her words. "We can start over, go slower if you want. We've got all weekend." His sapphire orbs cut into her with his next words, as they were meant to. With Norman, it all came down to what he said with his eyes. "Or longer if you want." That serious tone was back.

Her heart began to flutter faster and the nerves were back. What was he saying? Her next words were careful. "Well I have to get back to filming on Monday and so do you." She smiled at him softly. It was an open invitation for him to clarify his statement.

"I'm talking about after that. I want to see you Emily. Just you. If that's what you want to, that is." That last part was said quietly and it nearly melted her heart.

"Of course it is. There's nothing I want more." She leaned up and pressed her lips to his. She sighed as his lips parted and moved over hers, softly and gently and if tenderness had a signature kiss, this was it.

There really wasn't a need for words after that. Just touches, soft, gentle, purposeful touches that led to doing what he suggested. Starting over, taking their time, exploring one another and as they made love, she kind of thought that maybe that's what they were doing together. Starting over with this new thing between them and exploring it, seeing where it would take them. If she had to guess though, it was going to be someplace wonderful that neither of them had been before.

Though she'd fantasized about this before, it was not exactly how she had imagined it would be. It was a thousand times better. They were all tangled in the sheets, her hair was a fuzzy wreck spread around them, sweat and sex permeated the air, and together they were an absolute mess.

A mess of feelings and pleasure and happiness and maybe just maybe, this was what love was.

An absolutely perfect mess.

And now I am hiding. For eternity. Jesus this was daunting as hell and I don't know that it came out exactly as I wanted but it took me forever to get this even close to right. Hope it came across the right way. Please let me know. Okay, now…hiding…you'll NEVER find me! Muahahaha