A/N Liz is anxious at the prospect of sleeping with one of the world's most wanted criminals. Reddington assuages her fears but is hiding doubts of his own. First time/Smut. NSFW. I'm not kidding, so much smut. Disclaimed – this is in no way associated with the show, especially that last episode. I love reviews so much – make my day :-)

Upstairs, Liz removed her clothes as quickly as she could, her fingers numb and shaky. When she was down to her bra and panties she climbed onto the bed and thought about how to position herself. What would he be expecting? Should she be under the covers or on top? Lying down or sitting? The thought of lying down made her feel vulnerable and sent a sick feeling coiling in her stomach. She knelt and sat back on her haunches, her hands resting on her thighs.

As she waited for him she began to worry about things she hadn't in years. What would he think of her body? Her breasts were a nice shape but quite small. She wasn't wearing any makeup, and he'd had his hands in her hair. She should brush it. What would he do, and what would he expect her to do? Sex had always been simple for her; the few men she'd been with were also relatively inexperienced and just happy for her to take the lead. Now she couldn't stop thinking about her underwear - she wished he'd asked her to take that off too. She was embarrassingly aware of the wet patch on her panties, slick against the cream silk and undeniable evidence of the arousal he had detected with such alarming incisiveness.

She sprang up off the bed and went to the dresser, grimacing when she saw herself in the mirror. She hadn't really looked at her body properly since she had been taken. She'd lost a lot of weight; her ribs still protruded unattractively although Reddington had done a good job of feeding her up - like a witch in a gingerbread house fattening up his prey, she thought wryly. The worst bit was the cuts and bruises that adorned her body. They had healed well, but she was still covered in yellowish stains. She bent down to study her face in the mirror. Her cheeks were reddened, as she had suspected. No wonder he'd read her feelings so accurately; although she was generally a private person she was like an open book when it came to him. She reached for a hairbrush.

"Lizzie?"

She straightened quickly in alarm at the sound of his voice – she'd been so panicked she hadn't heard him come in.

"I thought I told you to wait on the bed" he said softly. "If we're going to do this, you need to trust me." She felt a further shiver of panic run through her, but he hadn't spoken unkindly.

"I… My hair was a mess" she responded lamely.

He smiled gently and approached her, looking down at her and smoothing her hair with his hands. "You are absolutely perfect." He paused and looked at her with such open affection it took her breath away.

She gestured to her body and broke the silence with a nervous laugh. "I'm still a little beat up."

A pained look crossed his face and after a moment he closed the small gap between them until her silk bra brushed against the wool of his vest. "Lizzie, when I look at you…" he broke off, shaking his head as if he couldn't find the words. Looking up at him she saw a depth of emotion in his eyes that she had never seen before; she didn't understand it, and it frightened her, but beyond all that she wanted more of it.

She moistened her lips unconsciously and he slowly brought his mouth to hers, his lips soft and firm, one hand on the nape of her neck and the other resting on the curve of her back just above the silk line of her panties. It was simultaneously chaste and rapacious, the pressure of his lips was so sensual, his tongue just present with a lingering promise of more. She arched into him and eventually he broke the kiss, humming in satisfaction as her head fell back, exposing her throat to him.

He ran soft, tingling kisses down her neck, just barely scraping his teeth over the delicate skin of her carotid, the tip of his tongue occasionally brushing against her skin to taste her. He moved back up slowly, inhaling her natural scent, his breath tickling her earlobe and making her shiver before his lips found hers again, his mouth open and hot this time.

If this was their first kiss, she thought hazily, making love with him would surely kill her…and she wanted to die.

"Elizabeth" He broke away from her and she opened her eyes, her pupils blown. "Sweetheart we can leave it there" he said, his voice low and rough. "If you want this to stop…" There was something in his tone that made her think that he wanted her to say it was enough. But it wasn't.

"Please don't" she murmured, shaking her head. "Don't stop."

A strange look passed over his face for a moment; his jaw clenched and his eyes seemed to darken.

"Kneel on the bed" he said thickly.

A tremor of both desire and apprehension shot through her at his words; she was irrationally elated that she had guessed correctly – she was supposed to kneel – but also afraid of what they were going to do, and what it would mean.

Swallowing, she moved to the bed as instructed, climbing on like a sacrificial virgin onto an altar. Once in position she closed her eyes, and a moment later she felt the bed dip under her as he joined her. Kneeling in front of her still fully clothed apart from his shoes, he pressed a gentle kiss onto her forehead before reaching round to unclasp her bra. She took a sharp breath at the cool air on her nipples as her breasts were exposed to him. She expected to feel his hands on her but there was nothing but stillness.

Confused, she opened her eyes. He was right there in front of her, looking not at her chest but at her face, scanning her expression. His gaze was so intense – why wasn't he doing anything, or saying anything? She glanced down nervously.

"Can you look at me?" he said softly.

She met his eye with effort and he gave her a reassuring smile. "Good girl. You are exquisite, Elizabeth. You are safe with me. And you have nothing to be ashamed of. Understand?"

She nodded and smiled involuntarily. It was like a weight had been lifted, and it was only then that she realized that she had been ashamed – terribly so – since the Lorcas had chained her up, taunted and abused her. He seemed to know that, even if she hadn't.

He bent down and kissed her cheek softly, the scratchy wool of his vest scraping against her sensitive nipples.

"Are you ready to lie down now?" He was still using that voice, the one that tightened her insides in all the right places – it was so reassuring and gentle in that moment she thought that she would do anything for him.

She nodded and brought her legs out from under her, lying back in much the same place as she had when he had stitched her up. The thought sent a thrill of suspense running through her. He was going to make her feel so good.

She came back to her senses when she felt his hands, gentle but firm at her hips, tugging her sodden panties down her legs and off. Instinctively she clenched her thighs together and her hand went to cover herself but he took it in his. "No sweetheart – there's no reason to hide from me. You're aroused, it's perfectly natural. Just relax."

He kissed the tips of her fingers and laid her hand gently at her side. A long moment passed in silence while he looked at her lying in front of him, his expression almost reverent. She began to feel herself respond under his warm gaze, and became more and more aware of her body; the feel of the soft, cool sheets under her thighs, the scratch of his wool pants brushing against her bare skin, the hardening of her nipples, and the low pulse between her legs.

Finally, he began to touch her, though again it wasn't what she expected. He began to run his finger gently over her collar bone, over her shoulder and arm, and over her chest, avoiding her breasts. To this movement he added his palm too, stroking her and warming her with the heat of his hand. After a moment she realized he was tracing the pattern of the bruising on her body, enough to tingle but not to hurt. It excited her that he was actually using her injuries to make her feel pleasure and reassure her; she knew where his hand would move next, whether his touch would be light or firm. It was like profiling – tracing a pattern of behavior and predicting the next move.

She quivered as his palm lay flat on her stomach below her belly button, and fought the urge to buck her hips to move his hand between her legs where she ached for him. He would think that was crass, she thought, but couldn't prevent a gasp escaping her lips as he pressed harder with his palm, the burn of her bruises mixing delightfully with the swirling desire low in her belly.

He looked up at her, continuing his slow movements on her abdomen as he spoke. "Part your legs a little for me sweetheart."

Her mouth went dry but she did as he asked, waiting for the moment she would feel his fingers slide between her folds.

Smiling knowingly, he continued down her body but to her dismay, he avoided the area between her legs just as he had her breasts, his hand moving instead to stroke her inner thighs, his thumb working sweet little circles that intensified her desire so much that she was sure that he would feel the evidence of it leaking down her thighs. She closed her eyes, embracing the feeling of floating, and the tantalizing throbbing in her clit.

Before long she felt his hands slide firmly down her calves and grip her ankles where the last of her bruises lay; even, circular welts where her ankles had been tied together. She felt as though he was anchoring her somehow, bringing her to level of reality she had never experienced.

"How are you feeling Lizzie?" he murmured, raising one of her ankles and pressing a gentle kiss onto the little bone there.

She opened her eyes. He knelt at her feet looking down at her, still pristine in his wool vest and shirt, although she could clearly see an impressive bulge in his pants which told her he wasn't as relaxed as he appeared. "So good" she whispered. "This doesn't even feel like my body."

"But it is sweetheart" he answered softly. "And it's magnificent…the things it can do. Let me show you. Turn over Lizzie."

She looked unsure for a moment, the idea of not being able to see him both thrilling and worrying her. He tilted his head, giving her a reassuring smile, and she turned, her nipples brushing deliciously against the sheets. She felt the mattress dip on either side of her as he knelt over her, before his warm palms met her skin again, holding her and stroking her, familiarizing her with the feel of his hands, keeping the pressure light but firm. He kneaded her buttocks and thighs and calves, rubbing her down and warming her skin until she squirmed under him, grinding herself into the sheets, desperate for friction.

She heard him laugh, a low and seductive sound, at her vain efforts to relieve the tension. "You've been very patient, haven't you Lizzie" he crooned.

She moaned into the pillow incoherently, and it occurred to her than in turning her over he had allowed her a sort of privacy, to focus on nothing but her own pleasure.

"Let's see if you're ready for a reward" he continued silkily as he moved up her body, the wool of his pants dragging up the backs of her thighs. Brushing her hair to the side, he kissed her neck, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin before she felt his fingers slide slowly inside her, making her gasp.

She parted her legs more to grant him better access and he began to work his fingers in and out, rubbing over her G spot again and again sending spirals of pleasurable need coursing through her entire body - she was so close. She wriggled her hips impulsively and he cupped her, his fingers finally sliding repeatedly over her clit until she cried out in ecstasy, wave after wave erupting like sweet lightening.

He groaned as he felt her pulse in his hand, and when she came back to her senses she heard him hum in appreciation of her little performance. He gently turned her limp body over and she lay there panting softly, her face and chest reddened. He smiled languidly, but his eyes were dark and sharp, devouring the sight of her. Planting his knee between her legs, he bent down and drew one of her taut nipples into his mouth, suckling at her while his hand cupped her other breast – she fit perfectly in his palm.

The last throes of her orgasm melted away, replaced with a strange feeling of warmth and weightlessness which made her wonder fleetingly whether this was really happening at all, or if it was some strange fantasy. He removed his wet, open mouth from her breast and sat back, trailing his hand down between her legs again and sliding his fingers back and forth.

"Oh, no I can't – please…"

He laughed gently. "You can, Lizzie. Feel how wet you are for me - a woman's body is an instrument, designed for sensation…for pleasure." As he spoke his deep voice rumbled over her, and he continued to work his fingers on her despite her protestation.

"An instrument…" she echoed breathlessly. "And I guess you're an expert in playing it" she finished, fixing him with a deep blue stare.

He smiled at that and rose up over her, his arms resting on either side of her. "Every woman's body is unique. And yours…" he shook his head in admiration. "Well I should very much like to continue learning...everything… about you. For example, I've been utterly, helplessly distracted by the thought of how you might taste" he finished seductively.

"How I… oh." Liz blushed. It wasn't that she hadn't tried that before but it wasn't a frequent occurrence and she certainly wasn't sure she was ready for that kind of intimacy with Reddington. But as she tried to think of how to object he caught her mouth in a passionate kiss, persuading his tongue into her mouth just as she knew that he would down there.

Riding waves of doubt and pure sensation she was dimly aware of his mouth working its way down her body, his kissing and soothing the marks on her body with his tongue. She yelped suddenly as she felt him nip her inner thigh with his teeth. "Come back to me Elizabeth" he growled. "I won't tolerate anything less than your full attention. Would you like to tell me what's on your mind?"

She was terrified that she'd offended him but then he gave her a reassuring smile that calmed her a little. "It's nothing, just…I'm not used to…"

"Oral sex?" he finished for her as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

She nodded, and he laughed softly shaking his head. "In that case your gentleman friends have been no gentleman at all" he mused, running his lips up the inside of her thigh, kissing her and breathing her in. "Mmmmm, just relax Lizzie" he hummed, before bringing her knees up gently and nudging her legs further apart. She didn't like to say that there had been very few 'gentleman friends' as he put it, and they were really more boys than gentlemen. At least compared to him.

Her thoughts vanished the moment she felt his tongue on her. After that there was nothing but the sweetest sensation of being rocked, caressed from the inside out as he lapped slowly around her clit, pausing occasionally to turn his tongue inside her like a key in a lock. He murmured endearments and groans of appreciation, taking such obvious pleasure in it – in her – that before long she was squirming with abandon. He brought her to the edge and held her there; she bucked her hips until finally he held her down with a firm hand, suckling her clit while the fingers of his other hand entered her again, curling inside her until the most delicious orgasm broke over her and she actually whimpered with the force of it.

"Oh Lizzie" he breathed into her thigh. "You have no idea what you do to me. You are sublime."

Speechless still, she tugged at his shoulder and he came up to lie beside her, pulling her into his arms and nuzzling her neck.

"You're still dressed" she said breathlessly. It didn't seem like a controversial comment but she felt him tense a little behind her.

"And you would like me to undress?" He sounded almost hesitant.

"Well… that's usually necessary for sex" she said with a smile, turning to look at him.

His green eyes had lost the warmth they'd had a moment ago, now sharp and intense. "And… is sex what you want?" he answered, his expression unfathomable.

She frowned. "Isn't that what you said?"

He paused for a moment, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "I said I would make you come over and over-"

"And over" she finished, smiling coyly. "I've had a birth control shot if that's what you're worried about. I mean…you were seriously going to do all this for me and not...take what you want? You do want me, don't you?" she said, boldly sliding her hand to the fat bulge in his trousers.

He groaned loudly. "You can't possibly fathom how much I want you sweetheart."

"I think I have some idea."

She swallowed hard and reached out, her shaking fingers unfastening the buttons on his vest. He allowed her to slip it off and stayed very still as she began to undo his shirt. When her hand slipped under the material on his shoulders she felt rough, uneven skin, strange and textured under her fingers. She looked at his face questioningly and it was a mask, his jaw tight as she determinedly pushed his shirt off, revealing scarred, ravaged skin that extended the full length of his back.

She ran her fingers lightly over him. "Does it hurt?"

"No." The word seemed to resonate deep in his chest.

"Is this why you were reluctant to take things further?" she pressed.

He gave a small, hollow laugh. "In a way."

"Because I've never been so attracted to a man in my life" she continued as confidently as she could. "I've never felt this way. And I have a scar of my own" she finished, holding out her palm to him, her eyes round and earnest.

As she looked at him she thought for a moment that she saw his impossibly green eyes glitter with tears, but he bent his head to kiss her extended palm before she could be sure.

When he raised his head again his eyes were burning with a look so intense that her breath caught in her throat. She saw the broad muscles of his arm flex as he reached down to undo his belt, and lay back without resistance when he pushed her down on the bed. He pinned her in place with an unwavering stare while he removed the rest of his clothing, sending icy tendrils of anticipation snaking through her stomach.

She felt it before she saw it, warm and thick and velvety on her thigh. He was fully erect and bigger than she had imagined when she'd felt him hard against her days ago. She felt tingly, as though her whole body had been rinsed in mouthwash, but the weightless fog in her mind was receding. This was real. The concierge of crime – one of the most dangerous men in the world – was going to make love to her.

Gripping his penis in his right hand he began to rub the tip against her folds, up and down, just like he had with his fingers. The thrill of this contact was almost unbearable, the covetous look on his face more so as he focused on sliding his tip over her clit repeatedly while she moaned beneath him. Suddenly he stopped, just looking at her for long moments before he positioned himself at her entrance and penetrated her with a slow, determined stroke that stole the air from her lungs.

He began to move gently inside her and closed his eyes with an almost pained expression, his forehead creased and his teeth clamped against his cheek. A delicious sensation gripped her deep inside as he moved and soon she wound her legs around him, pulling him deeper and stretching herself luxuriously to a confluence of pain and pleasure. He let out a strangled moan and pulled her to him, burying his face in her neck and thrusting in hard, long strokes.

As he held her she thought for a second that she could feel tears on her cheek, tears that were not her own. Overcome with pleasure in the warmth of his arms, everything narrowed to a single thought: this man – this criminal – was the most tender lover she had ever known.

TBC