* Trigger Warning: this chapter contains sexual content. Please take care when reading. If that's not your thing, feel free to move on to the next chapter.*

She led him through the halls, hand in hand, to her room. She was sullen, eyebrows slightly furrowed, and her attention somewhere far away. They both entered and Alastor took off his coat, setting it aside. As he looked over his shoulder he expected to see her going about her usual nightly rituals, but instead Isobel stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, her back to him, silent and motionless. She was still lost in whatever thoughts were running through her head.

Her inner turmoil was concerning to him, mostly because she did not yet trust to tell him of her worries. If she did not tell him, he could not maneuver and manipulate. This was unknown information that could lead to unexpected reactions. Reactions that could foil plans.

He crossed to her, taking the long rope of her braid in his hands. She had forgotten to take it out before coming back into the hotel. She braced herself for a snide remark and playful yank, none of which she was in the mood for. But they didn't come.

Alastor quietly, almost gently unbraided her hair. He combed it out with his long thin fingers, and then took her by the shoulders and turned her slowly to face him. Her eyes were downcast. For some reason she could not meet his gaze. Both of his hands dove into the black sea of hair, coming up the back of her head, and tilting her face up toward his. Her eyes still looked away.

He stared down at this defiant, fragile creature before him. One he so thirst to capture and control. It went beyond her living soul, or the fact that try as he might she never seemed to be scared of him, or that the things he did that repelled others attracted her.

He wasn't lying when he told her that he wanted her to choose him. It would not be enough to chain her like the other souls he had on the leash. Her binding would have to be more. He didn't know the right word for it. Loyalty maybe, devotion, blind faith. He always felt he was just on the cusp of it, just one step away from having her within his thrall. However, there was always a small part of her just beyond his grasp. Now it felt like she was getting farther away, and any distance between them would not do.

He cradled her head in his hands and she felt heavy in his grasp. Her arms hung at her sides, her eyes hooded and pensive. He knew that she needed something more from him that night.

Without a word he leaned down and kissed her. He kissed her with something akin to feeling. He stepped closer as he loosened his fingers from her hair and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace.

Isobel froze dumbstruck. He had never actually kissed her before, she had always been the one to initiate and not often. When it did happen, it was something to be tolerated, never anything he seemed to actually enjoy. And never with any amount of passion behind it. But here he was kissing her as if he truly desired her, like he could not be satisfied. Whatever feeling he had in him, he put into that kiss. Isobel had never felt so wanted. She didn't even care that it was probably just a facade.

As his arms held her body, he felt her melt under his caress. Her ridged edges softened and he could feel the sensation of her hands climbing his back. She parted her lips allowing his tongue access. His hands traveled down her figure and back up again, becoming more ardent and forceful as they went. His hands stopped at her waist and tugged at her shirt, lifting it over her head and discarding it on the floor. He instantly pulled her back to him again, his mouth searching for hers.

Isobel's fingers drew a line down his shirt, visiting every button along the way. One by one they released. She continued lower unbuttoning his trousers, then plunged her fingers and hands into the waistband. She could feel his hip bones against her palms as her fingertips pressed into flesh and muscle.

He held her tighter and she realized that it had been weeks since they had shared each other's bodies. At least a month since she had felt his warmth against her own skin, since her hands ran along his sharp angles, since she felt his fingers explore her curves. Sex was not necessarily something either one craved, but in that moment, as she felt his hands run down her thighs, she knew she missed the feeling, the privilege of being close to Alastor in a way no one else could be.

He missed the way she looked at him in these moments of heat and lust. She looked at him with something like adoration and he knew that he alone was the source of all her pleasure and pain, at least for a time. He could make her grit her teeth and call out in anguish, or he could make her eyes rollback and body quake. All power over her was his to command.

They enfolded their naked bodies into each other and stumbled toward the bed. Alastor sat and held Isobel at arms length studying her bare form. His eyes climbed her body until they settled on her face and the fierce presence of her green jewels. She was no longer distracted and met his gaze with a laser focus. All she could see, feel, or think of was him. The voices and thoughts in her mind finally quiet.

He wrapped his arms around her waist burying his face between her breasts. He then licked from sternum, up her chest and throat, to the tip of her chin. She half sighed, half moaned and fell forward onto him.

The weight of her body pressed into him as she pulled her knees up on either side. With one hand she held him behind an ear as her mouth, teeth and tongue explored his jawline, neck, and collar bone. Her other hand reached down between her legs guiding him into her. The soft, wet heat made him grunt through clenched teeth.

She sat up poised over his hips, her wild black tresses falling over her breasts. Her fingers and nails raked down his chest and stomach as his own ran the length on her thighs. He grabbed her by her hip bones and began to push and pull her in a slow yet powerful rhythm.

Her hands flew to her head, grasping her hair as she matched his meter, arching and contracting. Her breathing grew heavy and her moans louder as the pace grew faster, more urgent. His own body responded, tensing and trembling, fingers digging into soft flesh as he drove her ever faster.

Her whole body seemed to contract as she called his name out into the night. She shuttered and fell forward onto her hands, but she did not stop. She would not stop until he was finished.

Hovering over him, she grabbed him by the jaw and glared into his red, glowing eyes. The radio dials spun this way and that until they rolled back. He closed his eyes and loudly cried out almost like a howl. His arms wrapped around her crushing her down until there was no empty space between them.

They both stayed frozen in place panting, each afraid to be the first to break the perfect peace they had found in that moment.