Cht 4

Reddington swept her into the bedroom, pausing only long enough to nudge the door shut with his foot. He carried a still wriggling Lizzie over to the bed, eased her onto it and lowered himself over her, fusing his mouth to hers.

Her writhing took on a different tone under him, no longer playful as her hands traced over his back, over the T-shirt he wore to bed. Her hips arched into his in invitation, and he could not resist accepting. Reddington eased himself down fully on top of her, onto his elbows so that he could still taste and savor. He laved his tongue over her collarbone, nipping at the curve of her neck and eliciting a gasp that made him chuckle into the side of her throat.

Liz, who had grown impatient, slid her hands under his shirt and over his shoulders, rubbing down his back and dipping to cover his soft belly. Reddington groaned low in the back of his throat, rocking back to his knees and tracing the tips of his fingers up the outsides of her thighs. Her knees drew back in response, falling open to either side of him and she reached lower down, cupping and squeezing his bottom as he leaned forward again for a kiss. He gave an involuntary buck and she could feel the result of her attentions pressing against the center of her.

"Now Reddington," she growled.

"Patience is a virtue, Elizabeth," he smiled at her and sucked hard when his mouth found the side of her breast through the slit fabric of her gown. There was just enough to tenderness there to bring a slice of pain mingling with the pleasure and Liz arched again in response.

"Raymond," she moaned, and the pleading in her tone was what got him. He stripped his shirt straight off, dropping it quickly and making quick work of the pajama pants he was wearing. Without wasting time, he hitched Liz's nightgown up to her waist and plunged in to the hilt.

"Ahhh God!" he hissed, reveling in the tight slick wetness enveloping his shaft. Lizzie's legs drew back and she draped them around his hips, arching up to pulse against him. Red felt his eyes nearly roll back in his head, she felt that damned good. If death took him now he would go happily, he thought, gazing at the unbelievable sight of her—legs spread to him, taking all of him in, breast exposed with the nipple puckered to the cool air and her chest heaving. Wanting him. He grinded his hips into hers, matching the rhythm as she pushed against him. They kept the rhythm, eyes locked on each other, his gaze only diverted by the bounce of her breasts and the small patch of hair and glistening lips that slid over his length. God she was beautiful.

All it took was a swivel of the hips to shake his concentration and she ground hard against him when he snapped out of his thoughts. "Oh is that how you want to play, love," he nodded warningly as he gripped both of her hips in his hands and picked up speed and strength, pulling her closer into him and bumping against her sensitive nub with every slap of skin. The lubrication from her sex helping him glide looser and more erratically as he bucked and thrust. Her breath quickened, his pulse pounding, Red draped an arm under her, around her waist, leaving his other hand free to play with her clit. He moved against her, balls throbbing for release, but he waited until she clenched around him moaning her orgasm before he pistoned faster and harder into his own, then buried his face in her hair as he came into her. She draped limp arms around him as he settled onto her to catch his breath.

"Good God," she gasped, "where did that come from?"

Ray laughed breathlessly. "There's a lot more where that came from. We have a lifetime of it."

"As long as there are breaks in between," she playfully swatted him and kissed the top of his shoulder.

He slid to the side, pulling her close and nuzzling her hairline, placing kisses at her brow. "As little sleep as you've been getting, I'm surprised you're still awake now."

He crossed his arm over her torso, resting his hand on her hip. She covered his hand with hers.

"I told you she's sleeping more through the night," Liz reminded him. "So now that you have me Mr Reddington, what are you going to do with me?"

"Oh love," he sighed, which only turned into a yawn, "I'm going to keep you right here and let you sleep. She may be sleeping more, but still not enough for her mother. And there's a wedding to plan, a honeymoon to arrange, things to do in the daytime."

He raised her other hand to his lips and kissed the fingers. "And I have a ring to buy."

Liz smiled, thinking of herself as Mrs Reddington. She couldn't imagine what gaudy, ostentatious thing he might pick for her. "Nothing too flashy, Raymond," she chided.

Red gave a mock gasp, "I'm appalled you even think I would. Just for that, I should get something to rival Phyllis Diller. Or Liz Taylor."

Liz snorted. She knew he wouldn't go that far. Would he?

The next day had Red firing up the old (legitimate) connections and putting feelers out. He needed a venue, caterer, florist…he rubbed a hand over his jawline, slightly stubbly since he had not showered yet for the day, but there were things to do and appointments to set. Liz was already hard at work in the old Post Office, but he managed to place a few well timed phone calls there to the right people. It just felt so good to be plotting away again, he reasoned, almost like old times.

By noon he was showered, dressed and patting his belly in anticipation of cake tasting. He had a line on a good florist who could make arrangements on short notice and an old friend had made contact on securing the venue for the reception and ceremony. He was off to the races already, and this was going to be a gas! Lizzie would not know what hit her, and the girls would enjoy the day as well. The honeymoon was as good as planned. He had an ace in the hole there. Meanwhile, he had some shopping to do for les pièces de résistances. His sweetheart needed a dress and a ring. Only one choice for each came to mind. Raymond Reddington slid his hat onto his head, smoothing the brim, and took a last glance into the hall tree mirror. Smiling to himself, he turned and armed himself with his signature linen jacket before heading out the door. Time to negotiate.