When he came back to awareness he realised he was gripping her wrists tight and crushing her beneath him. Her eyes were closed and he could see a few streaks of tears on her temples and cheeks. He let go of her wrists and propped himself up on his forearms. She blinked her eyes open and they were sated and drowsy with pleasure. She smiled up at him, a smug smirk that he answered with a sheepish grin. "Well, that worked even better than I thought it would."
He laughed as he withdrew carefully from her body. "Glad to exceed expectations. I wouldn't wish to be completely predictable."
She smirked. "Well, that was pretty much exactly what I predicted, only at the end of the evening rather than the beginning."
He tied a knot in the condom and rose from the sofa, pulling her up along with himself. "You shouldn't underestimate your powers of seduction like that, baby."
She laughed outright at his words, then laughed more when she realised he was still wearing his socks and she still had her boots on. She followed him into the bathroom and sat down on the counter in front of the mirror. She propped one foot over her knee and began unzipping the boot, still laughing at the absurdity of it all.
He began to laugh along with her. "What's so funny?" he asked between guffaws.
She shook her head, helpless with laughter at the sight of his still sock-clad feet. She pointed at them and he looked, confused but charmed by her obvious amusement. "Socks," she gasped in between peals of laughter. She didn't know why but it was hilarious to imagine that the entire time they'd been lost in passion on the sofa, he'd had his socks on.
He bent down and pulled the offending socks off, laughing because she was laughing. He stood in front of her and she threw her arms around his neck, tears of mirth streaming down her face. One part of his mind simply basked in her happiness while the rest of him laughed with her. She was so beautiful like this. His laughter changed into a soft smile as he watched her. Slowly, her laughter subsided, too, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. He stepped into the space between her parted thighs and pulled her close. For long moments they held each other, revelling anew in the fact that they were together. At length she raised her head.
"Do we have to go to this concert?" He brushed her hair back behind her ear as he asked the question.
She smiled as she took her jewellery off. "It would be a shame to come all the way to Berlin and not go. Besides, Alia and the others will wonder what's wrong."
He sighed and buried his head in her neck. She stroked her fingers through his hair and he kissed her skin. "I guess we should get ready, then," he mumbled.
She pulled his head up and kissed his cheek. "Come on, let's shower and get dressed. We've missed the party as it is, let's not miss the concert as well."
He helped her off the counter and into the shower. She turned on the hot water. He hissed as he stepped under the spray. She turned to him, concerned. He smiled at her. "My girlfriend's a wildcat."
She stepped around him. "I'm sorry," she whispered, kissing his back. It was covered in red scratches. She traced them with gentle fingers, trying to soothe the pain.
He turned and caught her hands in his. He kissed her fingertips and smiled at her. "Don't be sorry. I loved every second of it. I love when you leave your mark on me."
She smiled back at him. "Let me at least wash your back."
He nodded. "But only if you'll let me return the favour."
She smiled and agreed, then motioned for him to turn. She soaped her hands and stroked them over his back, being extra careful where the skin was tender. When she was done, she continued soaping his legs until she knelt by his feet. "Turn please," she requested. He obeyed her and she washed the front of his body as well, rising slowly until they were face to face again. He stepped back under the water and she kissed him under the warm spray, lingering until all the soap had been washed away.
He pushed her out of the water and began washing her back. When he got to her hips he frowned. He could see the beginnings of dark purple bruises. He turned her around so she was facing him and inspected every inch of her as he washed it. He was appalled to discover that his hands had left rough marks all over her delicate skin. When he met her eyes and saw her smiling he was ashamed. "I'm sorry I hurt you."
"Hurt me?" She was confused. He traced the bruises on her breasts. "Oh come on Ranveer, you know I don't care about those. Like you said, I enjoyed every moment, and I like having your mark on me."
He traced the bruise on her neck, the one he'd left that morning. It was joined now by others. "Still, I should be more careful."
"If by more careful you mean less passionate, then I veto. I won't be treated like something breakable, not by you. I'm a woman." She drew him close and kissed him long and deep until she felt his arms harden around her and he kissed her back just as deeply.
"Believe me, I won't be forgetting that any time soon." His body curved around hers and his eyes shone with carnal awareness. She felt her body softening beneath that gaze. This thing between them was, had always been, based on the fundamental draw of man to woman. The love and respect and trust layered on top of the primal call of blood to blood. The attraction had been there from the first moment they'd touched and it had only deepened over the years. No one affected her like he did. No one got to him like her.
It was why being away from each other was a physical ache and why their reunions tended to be intensely sexual. The first few times they'd tried to fight the need. That had only resulted in them actually fighting before devouring each other and ending up in bed anyway. Over the years they'd learnt to accept that they needed to immerse themselves in each other after any length of time apart. They were both tactile people and they needed to feel and taste and smell each other. Their bodies expressed things that their conscious minds could not say.
Now his fingers combed through her wet hair and he kissed her forehead. She sighed and melted into him. He held her for a moment before turning her and massaging shampoo into her scalp. She leaned into his touch, humming in pleasure. When he was done she rinsed the shampoo under the stream of warm water before turning it off. He handed her a towel from the rack and took another for himself. He watched as she wrapped it around herself and stepped out of the shower.
Her like this was one of his favourite versions of her. Dressed in only a towel, hair wet, face devoid of makeup, skin pearled with water and glowing from the heat of the shower. She smelled soft and fresh. He could almost never keep his hands off her when she was like this. He didn't even try this time, wrapping himself around her the moment they'd stepped out of the shower.
She closed her own hands over his at her waist and leaned back into him. The bare skin of her shoulders met his naked chest. She was warm, alive, fragrant in his arms. His lips sought the spot beneath her ear that he knew made her melt. When he flicked his tongue over it she shivered though the bathroom was fogged with steam.
"We should... We... Umm... Mmm, stop, I can't think with you doing that." Her actions belied her words as she arched her neck to give him better access and tightened her hands on his.
"So don't think, just feel," he whispered. His words gave her a moment of clarity. She wrenched herself out of his arms and whirled to face him. She closed her eyes so she wouldn't see the lazy arousal on his face and throw herself at him.
"You're dangerous, did you know that?" She looked at him as she said it and saw that his eyes were fixed on her lips. She pushed him away when he took a step closer to her. "Go, go get dressed in the bedroom. I still have to do makeup."
He took another step closer and crowded her against the counter. One of his hands buried itself in her hair while the other encircled her waist, making her tremble. "No, you don't," he whispered. She blinked up at him. She'd lost the thread of their conversation when he moved to hold her. "You don't need makeup. You're flawless." He kissed her then and she gave up trying to cling to control.
Her mouth moved beneath his and she opened her lips purely on instinct, lost to thought or premeditation. He took her movements as invitation and stroked his tongue against hers. In some distant part of her mind she heard herself whimpering but it was not important. Nothing was important except the taste of his lips. He tried to take them away and she moaned in complaint and followed him. Her hands which had lain lax in her lap came up to hold his head in place. She felt his moan vibrate against her lips as he delved back in.
At length, against her protests, he lifted his head. She blinked open her eyes. "God, I have no control with you," he whispered. The look of stunned passion on her face was irresistible so he kissed her again, and again, and again, until before he knew it he'd lifted her onto the counter behind her and she'd locked her ankles around his hips and they were devouring each other like they couldn't get enough.
In a fogged corner of her mind she knew they didn't have time for this. That fact seemed supremely unimportant while he was sucking on her tongue. She heard the sound of her phone ringing and it took her a good few minutes to realise what the sound was. It stopped ringing by the time time it occurred to her that maybe she should answer it. He continued to kiss her and she felt the thought slipping from her mind. But the phone rang again and this time she wrenched her mouth away from his.