"Mmm," he murmured, looking at Adalind looking so soft, and sweet, and so delectable. The breasts seemed barely contained now, heaving full and large with each breath against the bodice, thanks to the green and black lacy bustier underneath. Nick bent his head and nuzzled his lips against them, felt Adalind slide her hand through his hair. "I've missed these," he said, rather unnecessarily as he lavished a lot of attention on each. He pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulder, and down her arm, and pulled the bodice away. He took a few minutes to fully appreciate the wonder that was her décolletage, lifting each breast from their cup. He loved her fit stomach, too, the stretch marks she hated—covered now by the waist of her dress—but Nick loved because she had carried his son. The beautiful scar, too, low on her abdomen where they had administered the C-section for Kelly, and further below that where they fit together so easily and so well, and he could make her gasp and moan and shudder and beg, and he did just that, kneeling down and lifting her skirt, sliding her pretty underwear over her garters and down her legs, his mouth working her over relentlessly and her hand still threading and kneading through his hair, holding him to her.

He pulled away after her body stopped shaking, gratified and smug when he heard her whimper in disappointment and stood up.

"Turn around," he said and she eyed him curiously before complying. He pulled the dress away, freeing her arms from the confines of the straps, dress bunching around her waist.

"Put your hands on the dresser," he said commandingly, and she looked back at him again before hesitantly bending forward and doing as he asked.

"Spread your legs," he barked coolly, but his body was on fire, and she stared back at him through the mirror with dark, sexy eyes and wordlessly, slowly, complied. She watched and he watched her as he fumbled with his belt, and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He shoved his jeans down his legs and stepped out of them. Adalind watched as he looked her over, clearly enjoying this bit of role play as Nick slipped out of his boxer briefs. He stroked himself a few times, mostly to make Adalind wait, then he lifted her dress up over her rear end and bunched the skirt around her waist, and slid his fingers slowly inside her. He watched her enjoy his ministrations, still stroking himself with one hand, Adalind with the other, letting go of himself as she became more undone, working her over until she found her release.

"Nick," she breathed, arching her back, and Nick pulled his fingers away, and slid into her in one smooth motion. She gasped and moaned again, looking incredibly sexy, in her stockings, her lingerie, and her dress in disarray around her, and Nick gripped her hips and prepared for the furious bout of lovemaking he was about to unleash.

"What I'm going to do to you," he said in a low voice, leaning close to her ear, nipping the lobe, mouth lingering on her neck, the spot just behind her ear that made her shiver. He nipped her shoulder, kissed her neck, and her jaw as he worked his way back to her earlobe. "I'm going to be relentless," he said, and she expelled a shuddering sigh of anticipation. "I'm going to be thorough," he said after another slow kiss and another breathy moan. "And I'm not going to stop until you beg, and even then…" he said warningly, biting down a smile at a low moan of pleasure from Adalind. "I may just keep going until I've had you six ways from Sunday."

"God, yes," she moaned and Nick felt his groin tighten in response.

"As it is, we've got three Sundays to make up for because of you deliberately misleading me about the fundraiser," he said, and her mouth curled in that predatory smirk he found an incredible turn on. "I hope for your sake you're taking a sick day tomorrow. You might need two. Maybe the whole week by the time I'm finished."

She smiled luxuriously, not looking repentant in the least, eyes catching his in the mirror, love and lust fighting for dominance, and he kissed her shoulder again, sweeping her hair aside, as he bit gently at her earlobe.

"You think you're going to last more than five minutes?" she said challengingly.

"You think you're going to last five rounds?" Nick returned, pretty damned sure he could get through three easily with the amount of pent up frustration.

"Do your worst, detective," she said with smirk.

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AN: Lest any of you think you're being shafted (heh, heh, sorry...couldn't resist) sequel will be up by Friday.