He wakes up to the sound of rain pounding against the window panes and a body, warm, soft, and naked, curled up against him. His arm is draped loosely over her waist, his face nestled against the nape of her neck. Her hair smells like fresh strawberries and cream, not of the cheap, chemical perfumes many women her age seem to favor. She smells good enough to eat. He buries his nose deeper, seeking the fragrant skin between her jaw and shoulder.

"Holy shit," he thinks with bewildered gratitude. "She's still here. In bed. With me."

Then he begins to panic a little bit, because he hadn't stopped to consider the possibility that a woman might actually choose to spend the night with him, rather than sneaking out at five in the morning under the cover of darkness, like a thief. As if on cue, Rose stirs, arches her back, and presses her bum against him. His body reacts immediately, his cock going rock hard at the touch of her bare skin against his own. A shiver runs down his spine and he tightens his grip on her, bucking his hips reflexively. She wiggles against him again, slow and deliberate, and turns her head just slightly, revealing the pale expanse of her neck.

Presented with such a glorious opportunity, he can't help but to nibble gently at the skin there. She moans appreciatively, and the sound sends a toe-curling bolt of electricity surging through his body. He still doesn't understand how or why such a voluptuous goddess chose his of all beds to warm, but he intends to take full advantage of the situation, before she inevitably realizes what a selfish and insufferable arsehole he really is. At the very least, he can send her on her way thinking him a capable and generous lover. Considering he's leaving London tomorrow, he thinks it unlikely she'll ever get the chance to find out otherwise.

In fact, he's counting on it.

Rose seems like a nice girl, the kind who would be better off without a petulant and maudlin man such as himself. That doesn't stop him though from wanting to hear his name gasped from her lips. He prays silently to whatever gods are willing to listen, "...for once in my life, let me get what I want. Lord knows it would be the first time."

She turns around, catching him by surprise. Her fringe is hanging over her forehead, half covering her eyes, and she's biting her lower lip in such a lascivious manner that it makes his cock throb just looking at her. When she tilts her head up to kiss him, he closes his eyes and swipes his tongue along the seam of her lips, silently begging entrance. Her mouth opens to him, tasting faintly of tea and honey, and he greedily drinks in the satin feeling of her lips on his and her pert little breasts pressed tight against him. He breaks the snog, drops his head to her chest, and eagerly begins to lave her nipples with his tongue, first the left, then the right, until both are dusky pink and aching and she's twisting against the sheets. He licks a wet stripe, from her nipples to her navel, to the apex of her trembling thighs. Putting his hands just above her knees, he gently parts her legs and lays his stubbled cheek against the smooth expanse of her left inner thigh.

"Oh God Alec, please," she groans, tugging roughly at his hair.

"Well...if you insist," he replies, trying not to sound entirely too pleased with himself. He buries his face between her legs, runs his tongue teasingly along her already slick folds, and wraps his lips around her clit. He flicks his tongue gently against the swollen nub several times in rapid succession, making her sigh and fist her hands into the sheets. Encouraged, he slides two fingers inside her and begins to pump them while he suckles at her core, and the sound she makes in response is thoroughly indecent. He doesn't stop until her breathy little sighs become shallow pants and gasps and her whole body shakes with the force of her orgasm. Satisfied, he collapses next to her on the mattress, sweaty and breathless.

"Oh, I'm not quite finished with you yet," she says, rolling over to straddle him.

"Oh?" he replies, cocking an eyebrow.

"Unless you weren't interested in shagging…?" she says, tracing circles around his nipple with her finger.

"No, I'm definitely interested," he answers, a little too quickly. They hadn't gotten quite this far last night.

She smiles at him, and her tongue pokes between her teeth. "I thought you might be. D'you have a condom?"

"Ah...no," he says sheepishly. "I'm only recently divorced, and my ex and I never used them. You're the first woman I've been with besides my wife in eighteen years."

"Seriously?" she asks, and this time she's the one raising her eyebrows.

"Seriously," he replies.

She seems to consider this admission. "I mean, as long as you're clean, I'm on the pill."

"I'm clean."

"You sure?"

"I had myself tested after I found out my wife was cheating. I'm clean," he says tersely.

She cringes. "So I guess that's why you're divorced?"

"Something like that, yeah," he replies, eager to change the subject and get back to the task at hand.

"I totally just killed the mood, didn't I?" she asks, covering her face with her hands and peering at him through her fingers, chagrined.

"Why don't you ask my hard on about that?" he responds wryly.

She laughs then, a genuine, girlish giggle, and the sound warms him better than a shot of whiskey. It could be because she's the first woman in a while to pay kind attention to him, or it could be because she's beautiful, but he never wants to forget the sound of her laugh or the look of her tongue-touched grin. He honestly can't remember the last time a woman smirked or smiled at him with anything other than pity or scorn.

Perhaps he's not completely irredeemable.

She leans down and snogs him then, slow and languorous, and he feels a flash of regret knowing that there are unlikely to be more kisses like this one in his future. Not that he deserves them, of course, but oh God, does he want them. He wants them as badly as he wants to numb his pain and forget the woman who simultaneously destroyed his career and broke his heart.

Rose reaches between them and grabs him firmly by the base of his cock. Stroking up and down his length with her hand, she guides him to her entrance, and finally, blissfully, sheathes him in her wet velvet heat. Stars explode behind his eyes, and he feels the muscles of his abdomen tighten.

"Oh no you don't!" he thinks furiously to himself, silently commanding his affection-starved body not to betray and humiliate him. He wants to savor the experience of being with her, make it last as long as possible. God knows he's probably headed for one hell of a dry spell, for the sake of his sanity he's going to need something for the spank bank. He grits his teeth together, tightens his grip on her waist, and thrusts his hips, plunging himself deeper into her slick silken warmth. She gasps and rocks against him, creating an even more delicious friction that makes his nerve endings sing. Somehow, perfectly in sync, they both roll over so that he's now on top of her.

"Fuck me. Hard," she whispers in his ear.

"Oh, with pleasure," he says, sliding almost all the way out before thrusting back in. Hands braced on either side of her shoulders, he pumps into her, relentless as the sea crashing into the shore. She lifts her legs and wraps them around him, locking her ankles behind his back and forcing him him even deeper. Her gorgeous honey-colored eyes never leave his, and for a moment he can almost believe that the connection between them is more than just purely physical. The tension within him builds to an almost unbearable level, and he finally empties himself into her with a strangled cry. Panting, he collapses next to her on the bed, his breathing ragged and his heart still racing.

"Goddamn, that was good," she says breathlessly.

"Good?" he thinks to himself. "That was bloody brilliant!" But all he says out loud is, "Yeah."

"Mind if I smoke?" she asks, already leaning over to grab her purse off the floor.

He does mind, actually, but he just shakes his head. He doesn't want to give her an excuse to get out of bed quite yet.

She lights a cigarette, inhales, and exhales a thin plume of smoke. "So. Breakfast?"

His heart leaps at the suggestion of spending even more time with her. He knows he should say no, for both of their sakes.

But instead, he says, "Yes."