Pens, papers, folders, hit the floor and your naked body hits the desk; his weight on top of you as his lips feast on yours, licking, biting, sucking. One hand fists in your hair, the other slides up your side, finding your breast, as your tongues duel, and your body writhes beneath him.

****

His hand on your elbow drags you to his office; no words spoken until you are securely behind the closed door, then: "What the hell were you thinking?"

Anger coursing through your veins at the way he snatched you from the interview room, and refused to talk to you on the way back to the lab, you fix him with a glare as you respond in the same raised tone: "I was trying to get the scum bag to speak! I was doing my job!"

****

His lips pinch a trail down your neck as he takes time to lavish attention on your collar bone before they take over from his hands at your breasts. You arch towards him as his mouth surrounds one nipple; his tongue circling deliberately; hardening and tingling sensations overwhelming your senses.

****

"So the bruise forming on your cheek is all part of job satisfaction is it?" he yells back in a sarcastic growl.

"I didn't ask him to hit me!" you grind out through clenched teeth.

****

A deep purr escapes your throat as his fingertips graze the skin of your stomach then his hand slips lower to stroke the sensitive skin just below it.

****

"He's a sexual assault suspect; seems to hate women; did you not think shoving your face in his and screaming at him would provoke him?"

Fire burns in your eyes now. "Are you saying I deserved this?"

****

His fingers are stroking, curling, touching in all the right places. Your hands grip the sides of the desk as they move within you; your knuckles white with the intensity of the feelings surging through your body.

****

"I'm saying you should know better!"

"He was giving us nothing, Gil!… Evading every question we asked!… At least now we can hold him for assault 'til we find some more concrete evidence!"

"Oh, well then, it's all worth it!"

****

When you demand, "Now, Gil!" his lips pause from their exploration of a sensitive spot on your neck, and his eyes meet yours; hunger meeting hunger; need greeting need. You watch each other, silently, giving doubt a chance to surface, and when it doesn't, you gasp as his fingers leave you, and he repositions to hover above you.

****

You respond, eyes narrow, voice terse: "If it keeps him away from women for a few days, it's worth it!"

"And what then?… If we can't prove it was him? Who do you think he'll go for next?"

****

You inhale slowly as he slips inside you, sliding yourself lower to take him as deeply as possible. Then you exhale on a pleasured smile as he starts to thrust into you, sliding slowly in and out, each movement stimulating the pressure building within you.

****

"And if he does, then we get him!"

"What? Now you want to use yourself as bait? Catherine what the hell has gotten into to you? This isn't like you!"

"Well, from now on, it is!… Because where has being like me got me so far? An abusive, dead ex-husband; a murderer for a father; a daughter who won't talk to me; and a string of men who treat me like dirt! And I'm sick of it! It ends now. This is the new me!" you scream at him, adamant that the tears pricking at your eyes are out of anger not sorrow, and, either way, will not be allowed to fall.

****

His actions increase in speed and force as your muscles pulsate around him, and you encourage him with moans of ecstasy.

****

"So the new you is going to put herself in danger every chance she gets? Risk leaving that daughter without both of her parents? And just to spite a few idiots who didn't realise how lucky they were to have you?"

"What exactly is your point?!"

****

You meet his movements thrust for thrust; your sweat-slicked body gliding easily over the polished surface of the desk. Your fingernails scrape the length of his back, moving your hands to grip his butt; pulling him to you, pushing him deeper inside you.

****

"My point," he shouts, a hard emphasis on `point', "Is that you are not the only one involved here! You need to consider Lindsey, and your parents, and your friends… You need to think about the consequences before you act ­ "

"What I need…" you yell to interrupt him, but your voice is surprisingly quieter when you continue: "…is for you to kiss it better."

****

You moan on each breath as you are brought closer and closer to the edge; the pressure building from deep within as the two of you move faster and faster, and harder and harder.

****

He stops and stares at you, surprise dancing with confusion across his features.

You stand your ground. You've finally said it; no point taking it back. And he seems to read this honest determination in your eyes.

****

Your scream erupts from low in your throat as your body reaches climax just before his does. As you both gasp for air, your arms tighten around him, holding him to you, clinging as if your life depends on it.

****

He steps forward and the skin of his fingers lightly brushes your knuckles as he encloses your hand in his. Then his body heat mingles with yours as he leans towards you and runs the fingers of his other hand over your cheek, before gently placing his lips there.

****

It's your lips that tremble first, quickly followed by your hands, and you know the rest of your body is about to copy them. You let go and try to slide out from beneath him before he notices, but apparently it's too late.

****

Your words quiver as you add: "Not just my cheek," and he seems to instantly understand and comply, moving his kisses down your neck as his hands begin to unbutton your shirt.

****

"You don't need to run, Catherine," he says softly, placing a kiss to your temple. "I'm here, let me make it better… Let me take your pain away… Let me love you."

And you do. You crumble into his arms, and you allow those tears to fall. And as they burn a trail down your cheek you realise they were tears of loneliness, borne of a feeling of isolation. You didn't need to change; you just needed the right person to stand by your side; to love you; and, when you were hurting, to kiss it better.

THE END