Fandom:
Iron Man (movieverse)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Tony/Pepper
Summary: It
will not be long, love...
Disclaimer: Most of the characters and situations in this story belong
to Marvel Comics, Fairview Entertainment, Dark Blades Films, NBC, and
other
entities, and I do not have permission to borrow them. No infringement
is intended in any way, and this story is not for profit. All others
belong to me, especially Cedric, and if you want to borrow them, you
have to ask me first.
Any errors are mine, all mine, no you can't have any.
Well, I'm back. Real life decided I had other things to do,
including dealing with some health issues (none truly serious, just distracting). After waiting
so long, you deserve to have the whole story, so I'm finishing it up
with three more chapters and an epilogue. Thank you for your
patience, your encouragement while I've been on hiatus, and your
feedback.
Especial thanks to Laura27md for last-minute reassurance, and Cincoflex, as ever, for editing,
support, and telling me that yes, getting my appendix removed did take
precedence over that last chapter. *snerk* Much, much love
to you both.
All that and I didn't even pop the rating. Huh.
*********
She should have been panicking, but for some reason Virginia’s
thoughts were clear. She held very still in the dimness of her
bedroom, her thumb pressing down to shut off her phone, and listened to
the slow footsteps moving through the living room. I’m sorry, Tony, but I have to be
quiet now.
The alarm wasn’t shrieking. She didn’t know what
Yarbro had done to it; nor was she sure how he’d gotten in,
because she would have heard if he’d kicked the door in, and so
would her neighbors. It
doesn’t really matter. He’s here.
Somewhere in the back of her mind there was a low wail of terror and
rage, but she ignored it, the same way she ignored extraneous details
when her job demanded the impossible. Slipping the phone into her
pocket, she left the why and
the how for later, and
considered her options.
They weren’t good. The only exit besides the front door was
her balcony, which was off the living room; and at twelve stories high,
she was a little too far above the ground to go out the bedroom
window. Available hiding places were few--under the bed, inside
the closet--and none would work for long. And while she was sure
Tony had immediately turned for home when she’d hung up on him,
he wasn’t there yet. Dammit!
The fear surged. You’re
trapped--again--just like the room--
“I know you’re here.” The voice was harsh with
anger, loud enough to be heard throughout her apartment, and
Virginia’s throat closed, because she knew that voice.
Three.
“I saw you go in. I’m going to find you. Come
out, and I’ll make it quick.” She heard contempt and
resentment, and wondered wildly just what quick meant to him. Would he
shoot her on sight? Execute her? Or draw out his
revenge? Tony’s on his
way, she thought at him, the fear singing in her ears. You tried to kill me because you were
afraid of Iron Man, well, guess what--
She couldn’t hide for long. But could she hide long
enough? How long would it take Tony to get from Canada to
Malibu?
Three cursed. A hollow pop reached her ears, followed immediately
by a sharp ping, and she
recognized the sound as a gun with a silencer. Another shot, this
time with a duller thud, and she placed the noises. He’s shooting up my kitchen.
Apparently he thought she might be hiding in one of the
cupboards. Abruptly the rage took over, and Virginia clenched her
fists in the darkness. How
dare he?
The thought was new, and energizing. It blew her thoughts out of
their panicked circle and gave her focus. Tony was on his way,
yes, but he might not get there in time. And Virginia wasn't
going to huddle in the darkness and pray Three didn't find her. You had the advantage last time. Now
it's my ground.
And she knew her ground. Moving as quickly as she could without
making noise, Virginia bent to the pile of sheets that Alex had
stripped from the bed and left folded tidily on the mattress, taking
the top one and tucking it under her arm. Then she darted across
the bedroom and snatched up the little gargoyle that had been a college
graduation gift years ago, that sat on her windowsill to glower at the
pigeons that flew past. It wasn't stone, but it was heavy; it
would have to do.
The only real hiding place was under the bed, which was useless for her
purposes. Virginia stepped behind the half-open door instead,
shaking out the sheet and holding it ready and praying that Three
wouldn't realize she might repeat a trick.
"Where are you?" the hard voice drawled, and she had to set her jaw to
keep her teeth from chattering; Three was coming down the hall.
"Where are you, you little bitch? Damn bitch--"
He trailed off into a rant Virginia would just have rather not have
heard, and she flinched at a sudden bang, guessing an instant later
that he'd thrown open the bathroom door. The rattle of the shower
curtain confirmed her suspicions.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady her trembling. When did I start shaking? she
thought absurdly, and shoved the distraction away. The rage
surged as she heard the pop of more shots, and the crunch of
splintering wood. What the bullets were doing to the towels in
her linen closet--
There were more clicks, and it took Virginia a moment to recognize the
sound as a gun being reloaded. She swallowed, and braced herself,
waiting, praying to hear the scream of Iron Man's repulsors, but there
was nothing.
Suck it up, Virginia.
Save yourself.
She heard his breathing just in time to press herself back against the
wall. The door, shoved wide, actually bounced off the tips of her
toes, but Three was already through it, and Virginia didn't give
herself time to think. She stepped around it in one smooth motion
and threw the sheet over his head.
The move went better than she'd dared hope. He threw up his arms,
flinching hard, and as if she'd rehearsed it a dozen times Virginia
swung the gargoyle at where she guessed his head was, putting as much
force into it as she could.
The clunk was less satisfying, and Three yelped, thrashing.
Frantic, Virginia hit him again, and again, hammering at the vague
shape that was his head. It felt like a nightmare, struggling
with a monster that just wouldn't die--
Three staggered, tottering. Virginia hit him once more, and then
tackled him, throwing all her weight as high as possible, and to her
astonishment they both fell. She rode him down to the floor,
scrambling, jamming her knees into his midsection and pressing down as
hard as she could. He was cursing, clawing and kicking, but she
seemed to have him face-down, and with the sheet pinned half-under him
he couldn't get his head clear.
She wasn't exactly thinking,
but somewhere in the thrashing panic was the knowledge that her
advantage would be short. He was stronger and heavier, he would
throw her off in a moment unless she could stop him somehow.
The gargoyle was lying on the carpet two feet from her knee.
Virginia snatched it up and brought it down on the hand clutching the
gun.
His scream was startling, and satisfying. She tossed her poor
statue aside and grabbed, yanking the weapon away and prompting another
inarticulate sound. Automatically checking to see if the safety
was off, she jammed the top-heavy barrel of the silencer against the
heaving shape beneath her. "Don't
move."
Three shuddered to a stop, lying tense under her grinding knees.
"You--"
"Shut up." She pressed harder. "I've got my finger on the
trigger and if you move I will pull it." Her voice was shaking
and squeaky, and Virginia swallowed hard and hoped he would believe
her. "Whether I mean to or not."
She could feel the rage rising
up from him, waves of it hot and nauseating, but he held still.
Virginia tightened her arm muscles to try to steady her hands and
wondered how long she could hold out. If he tries anything, my finger will jerk
and I'll shoot him anyway.
It wasn't much comfort.
Her phone was still in her pocket, but she couldn't figure out how to
fish it out without moving her weight or the gun. She could feel
Three shifting slightly under her, and shoved the unwieldy barrel
deeper. "Don't move."
The situation was untenable. He was going to try something,
Virginia knew it, but there was nothing she could--
She didn't hear the repulsors. What she heard was a splintering
crash from the direction of her living room and a thump that shook the
floor, and then Tony's augmented voice bellowing in a tone as frantic
as her own heartbeat.
"Pepper!"
All the panic streamed out of her and away. Beneath her knees,
the muffled form of Three stiffened and seemed to shrink, and Virginia
let out a laugh that was adrenaline and relief. "In here!"
She had to repeat it twice to be heard over his shouts, but then
too-heavy footsteps pelted down her hallway and Iron Man burst through
her bedroom door, fists clenched and the reactor in his chest plate
glowing ominously. Virginia looked up at him, and thought she
would like nothing so much as to give that ridiculously gaudy figure a
hug. She settled for a grin instead, knowing it was more than a
little wild but not caring. "Hi, boss."
His helmet popped open, giving her a good view of his face, which
whipcracked from terror to shock to relief in rapid succession, finally
settling on amused respect and a touch of exasperation. "Too late
again. I swear,
Potts, you're going to give me a complex."
She shook her head and relaxed, finally, her grip on the gun.
"Your ego will survive. Can you find me some...I don't know,
string or something? I need to tie him up."
Tony rolled his eyes, and pressed a spot on his armored thigh; a small
compartment opened, and he extracted a roll of duct tape and handed it
to her. She took it and slipped it over her wrist so she could
put the safety on the gun, and passed the weapon to him. Tony
immediately took out the magazine, tossing it onto her bed, and with
one brutal movement crushed the weapon in his fist, his expression
darkening.
Virginia decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and bent
her head to find the end of the tape. As she squinted at it, that
same heavy gauntlet touched her shoulder, gripping it with such careful
delicacy that the pressure was less than that of a flesh-and-blood
hand. "Are you okay?"
She looked back up at him, seeing the hard lines bracketing his mouth
and a telling anguish in his eyes. "I will be. As soon as
we get this garbage out of my house."
Tony accepted that as she thought he would, pursing his lips and then
jerking out a short nod. "Allow me." He let her shoulder go
and extended the gauntlet, offering her a hand up, and Virginia took
it, wobbling to feet that had somehow gone numb. When he was sure
she was steady, Tony bent down and yanked away the sheet, tumbling
Three half-over in the process, then grabbed his shirt front and
hauled.
The malevolent menace of the man was...gone, Virginia realized.
He was pathetic, dangling
whimpering in the air, clawing ineffectually at the armored arm holding
him two feet off the ground. The look Tony was giving him was,
she had to admit, terrifying--a deep cold anger that went beyond Tony's
usual flashy temper. "How'd you like to go flying with me?" Tony
asked, the casual tone of his voice fooling no one. "Say, about
thirty thousand feet up?"
Yarbro sputtered something, and Tony shook him like a piece of
laundry. "What do you think, Pepper?" he said, still
conversational. "Save us all the publicity? It'd only take
five minutes to drop him off the continental shelf."
Virginia wasn't entirely sure he wasn't serious, and part of her
thought it sounded like a terrific
idea. But she shook her head. "We owe Happy," she pointed
out.
Tony sighed. "I hate it when you're right."
Her scrabbling fingers found the end of the tape. Virginia pulled
a long strip loose and looked up at Yarbro, and blinked. One eye
was swelling, and the side of his head and his neck were wet with
blood; it had even soaked into his shirt. I guess I did
get him.
Her attacker was a few inches taller than her, perhaps six feet, and
muscled but not bulky; he had short dark hair and an unremarkable face
under the bruising, and aside from the eyes fixed on her in dizzy hate,
he looked ordinary. She
blinked again, feeling vaguely as if he should bear some stigmata of
evil, and stepped behind him.
"Hands behind your back," Tony instructed him, with another shake, and
reluctantly their captive complied. As Virginia bent to wrap his
wrists in tape, she saw that his right hand was swollen too, three of
the fingers bent and one almost purple with bruising. She flashed
back to the thwack of the
gargoyle coming down, and smiled grimly.
When Yarbro's hands were secure, she taped his feet as well for good
measure, winding the tape halfway up his calves. Tony didn't
bother setting him down, instead just opening his hand and letting
Yarbro drop, and as her kidnapper bounced from his knees to his side on
her carpet Virginia couldn't find it in herself to pity him.
“You’d better call Donovan,” she said through lips
that felt numb too, and held out the tape.
“They’re already on their way.” Tony took the
roll, replacing it in his thigh pocket as he placed the call over his
helmet’s line, but he didn’t take his eyes from her;
Virginia could feel his gaze following her as she stepped past Yarbro
and sat down heavily on her bed. A moment later he was standing
in front of her, too tall in the armor, but without ceremony he removed
one gauntlet and reached down to cup her face with his bare hand.
“Potts--”
She leaned into the touch, unable to help herself--desperate for the
gentle contact, for the knowledge that he was there. Tony made a tiny
sound, as if she’d hurt him, but then the wail of multiple sirens
reached them, echoing up from the street, and she straightened, his
hand falling away. “They’re here.”
It was hours of fuss and questions, dealing with police and FBI both,
though the latter ran the show. Tony behaved himself for once,
answering questions with tolerable patience; he loomed large in her
living room, standing behind the couch where Virginia sat, and she
wasn’t at all sure that he wasn’t guarding her even though
the only threat was quickly taken away in handcuffs. Agent Cross
made coffee at Virginia’s request--after all, she knew where the
machine was--and photos were taken of her apartment, from the damaged
door to the bullet holes to the snow of glass where Iron Man had
smashed in through her balcony doors. You’re going to pay to have them
replaced, she’d told him severely the moment she’d
seen them, and he’d shrugged at the foregone conclusion, Of course; would you prefer titanium bars,
Potts, because I’m running a special--
It was endless and exhausting, after a very full day, and Virginia felt
her temper growing shorter and shorter. But underneath it all was
a wondering, dizzying triumph.
He’s really gone.
I did it.
Me.
Being Tony Stark’s personal assistant generated a lot of
self-confidence--it was no job for someone not sure of their own
abilities--but taking Yarbro down had worked some alchemy in her, it
seemed. All the power he’d taken from her by kidnapping her
had rebounded, three-fold.
I...won.
It was past midnight before everyone packed up and left. Virginia
looked around at the living room, at the glass and the coffee cups, and
sighed. “Ugh.”
"You can't stay here tonight," Tony pointed out practically. He
was still in the armor, looking almost as tired as she felt.
"I guess not. Maybe I should get a hotel room," she said, just to
tease him, and he was halfway through a protest before her smirk tipped
him off.
"Oh, funny. Pack a bag, Potts, looks like you get a room at the
Stark Waldorf one more night."
Virginia complied, irritated at having to give up her territory again
but too tired to gripe. The adrenaline rush had finally subsided,
leaving her limp and achy, and she wanted a bed more than she wanted to
stay in her own space, if barely.
When she came back out to the living room, her little duffle in hand,
Tony was fitting his gauntlet back on. "I've got a security man
outside your door, and Tristan's waiting downstairs," he said.
Virginia eyed his metal casing. "Are you riding back?"
He snorted. "I'd ruin the upholstery. Want to take the
speed elevator?"
She frowned. "The what?"
His sudden grin should have been warning, but Virginia was too tired to
catch it soon enough. Before she could protest, Tony scooped her
up, one arm beneath her back and the other under her knees, and she
squawked and yanked her bag to her chest. "Tony! What--"
"It's just a few stories," he said cheerfully, striding out through the
broken balcony doors, and Virginia squawked again.
"You can't be serious--don't you need to steer?"
"Not for straight down." He laughed, holding her firmly, and she
thought about arguing, but it was too late--Iron Man bounced up off his
toes and over the railing, and then they were--
--Floating. The incipient rush of panic failed as Virginia
realized they were descending at a rate that was probably the
equivalent of a walking pace. Fortunately, she'd never been
afraid of heights; nonetheless, she clutched her bag tightly and held
very still.
There wasn't much to see since they were too high for the streetlights,
but as they dropped Tony somehow rotated slowly, so her building came
into view. Brightly-lit glimpses of other apartments passed by, a
few people still awake at this hour; once she saw someone in a recliner
sit up and stare as they fell past, and she resisted the absurd urge to
wave.
Then they were facing outward again, and she looked down to see the
street growing closer, islands of light showing cars and asphalt
but--perhaps fortunately--no pedestrians. It felt dreamlike,
almost relaxing; maybe it was the darkness, but Virginia was nearly
convinced she could fly on her own if she just tried...
Tony touched down with a clank, and the hiss of the repulsors shut off,
ending her reverie. With care, he set her on her feet next to the
waiting limousine; Tristan, standing next to the vehicle, didn’t
look surprised, but then he was almost as unflappable as Happy.
He stepped forward for her bag, and she turned back to her boss.
“You’ll probably beat us back,” she said, looking up;
he was taller than she in the suit, and it felt weird.
He cocked his head, substitution for the shrug he couldn’t
make. “I’ll fly slow. See you there,
Pepper.”
Virginia reached up and slid her hand past the frame of his helmet to
cup his cheek. “Be careful, Tony.”
As she had earlier, he leaned into her touch, and his eyes were
lambent. She let her thumb stroke the line of his cheekbone, then
stepped back.
His lips quirked, and then the visor of the helmet dropped down, hiding
him from view. Virginia retreated further, to get out of range,
and with a twist of his wrists and a roar that echoed, he was up and
away, a comet in reverse heading for the stars so far overhead.
She sighed, and turned to let Tristan help her into the car. The
ride wouldn’t be long; she settled back against the plush seat
and tried to decide when to have Jarvis wake her in the morning.
Tony shadowed the car all the way back home. It wasn’t
difficult, even from such a height; the little blip that was its
tracking beacon glowed on his HUD, and the hardest part was going
slowly enough to stay with the vehicle. But he couldn’t
bear to let it out of his sight.
That was too damned close,
Pepper.
It hadn’t been what he’d expected, smashing into her
apartment to find her sitting on
her assailant, armed and in control of the situation; though, on
reflection, he had to wonder why he hadn’t
expected it. Given
what she’s done already, what made you think she couldn’t
handle that? Still, even if the princess hadn’t
actually required rescuing, his augmented heart was still running way
too fast with residual terror.
I can’t lose you.
It had been his watchword all along, from long before he’d
realized what she meant to him. Even back in the depths of his
selfish, careless days, he had known she was essential somehow.
And while he’d called her bluff when he’d asked her to spy
for him, he’d been praying all along that she wouldn’t call
his, because he would
have had to concede.
But she hadn’t.
The selfish part of him almost wished he had rescued her, even though the
thought of her in danger made him sick to his stomach. Pepper
knew him inside and out, past and present, and she had no illusions
about him, even the superhero business. But it would have been
nice, Tony thought ruefully, to have actually been a hero to her, even once.
In the end, though, it didn’t matter. She was safe, and by
all that was holy he was going to try to keep her safe. As safe as
their flight down from her apartment, when she’d lain so
trustingly in his arms. He wished he could have snuck in a hug at
least, but the suit wasn’t built for it--clearly a design flaw he
would have to address.
When the limousine pulled up in front of the mansion, Tony dropped out
of the sky and down to his workshop, knowing that Tristan would see
Pepper safely inside. And she appeared as the ‘bots
stripped away the last the armor, pushing through the stairwell door
with a bottle of sports drink and handing it to him as he stepped off
the assembly platform. “Since you missed dinner,” she
said wryly.
Tony saluted her with it and took a few swallows. “What
about you?”
“I’m not hungry; all I really want is sleep.”
Pepper rubbed her forehead, running her hand back through her short
hair in a gesture that was becoming habit. “We’ll
have to do another press release in the morning.”
He frowned at her. “That’s all you’ll do.
You get a day off, Potts, and no arguments.”
Pepper pursed her lips, more amused than annoyed. “For
once, I’m not inclined to argue. Do you need anything
before I go to bed?”
The question was so professional, so distancing,
that it actually hurt. Tony held back a
flinch. “No, I’m going to hit the sack myself, after
I shower.”
She nodded, and he expected her to walk away, but she didn’t,
instead pausing with a strange expression on her
face--half-introspection, it seemed to him, and half-dare. Then
she startled him entirely by stepping forward and pulling him into a
hug.
The feel of her arms wrapping around him, her body pressed close, was a
painful bliss. Tony enveloped her carefully in return, unmindful
of his sweaty coverall and barely remembering to keep a grip on the
bottle. She was solid despite her slenderness, warm and real and there, and ah, it hurt, so
sweet--
“Thank you,” Pepper muttered into his shoulder.
“I was just about to lose it when you got there, Tony--I
don’t know what I would have done, I didn’t want to shoot
him but...”
He held her tighter, turning his head enough to press his face into her
hair, soft against his cheeks. His glib tongue failed him; the
only answer he could muster was a clumsy kiss on those strands and the
hope that she didn’t feel the faint tremble in his muscles.
They stood a long time without moving, as if the events of the evening
were a poison that their embrace leached away. But finally
Pepper’s arms loosened, and Tony made himself let her go as she
pulled back. Her hair caught on his stubble as he lifted his
head, and Pepper breathed a laugh as she reached up to brush it
away.
“Get some sleep, okay?” she told him, her voice soft as
well. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Unable to resist, he picked up her hand and kissed that too.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Pepper.”
The smile she gave him was wobbly but genuine. “Me
too.”
He watched her climb the stairs out of sight, then headed for his
shower, trying not to think how easy it would be to slip into her room
and watch her sleep.
The sun woke her, easing beams across the floor to touch her
face. Virginia rolled over in the big guest bed and stretched,
feeling much more relaxed than she had expected to. Nerves
exposed by Yarbro’s attack had been soothed by sleep, and the
nightmares she’d anticipated hadn’t appeared. Despite
everything, the day presented a cheerful aspect, and for once she
wasn’t annoyed by having nothing to do.
When she felt awake enough, she climbed out of bed and went in search
of breakfast. Coffee and toast were easy to find in the kitchen;
nibbling on a pear, she leaned against the kitchen counter.
“Jarvis, is Tony awake?”
“He is not,” the AI replied. “Do you wish me to
wake him?”
“No.” Virginia took another bite. The
house’s quiet was a gift this early in the morning, and Tony
needed sleep.
It was a simple matter to put together a press release regarding the
events of the day before and e-mail it to her assistant for
release. They would have to provide more in-depth information
later, she knew, but it would do for the moment. She added a
quick personal note--Cedric was no doubt worried--and finished her
coffee.
Fed and caffeinated, yawning a little, Virginia headed back towards her
room for a shower, detouring towards the master bedroom along the
way. It was an old habit, to check up on him after some event had
brought him home drunk or stoned or accompanied--or later, battered and
bloody--even though Jarvis would alert her if anything were
wrong. It was part of her job, to know his condition so that she
could adjust his day appropriately.
But it didn’t feel professional, this time, to lean on the
doorjamb and look in on him sprawled on his stomach in the huge bed,
one leg poking out from under the sheet and his head buried under the
pillow. It felt personal, and not just because she was wearing
pajamas.
And in that moment, she knew.
Virginia turned around and went back to her suite, walking straight
into the bathroom and stripping off her clothes to bathe. The
shower wasn’t as big as the one in Tony’s bathroom, but it
was twice the size of her own, and she stood under the spray, eyes
closed, thinking ahead. It wasn’t that her doubts had
vanished, exactly, but they were all but silent. Anticipation
welled in her as she washed; a breathless, quiet eagerness that was
unfamiliar but welcome.
Yes.
Tony was still asleep when she returned, snoring faintly, the pillow
pushed aside. Virginia took a moment to just look at him, dear in
his vulnerability; aware that she could turn around and leave.
She didn’t. She stepped forward and slipped into the big
bed next to him. It was the right thing to do; she felt it as a
certainty, the best way to prove that she did trust him.
She wasn’t sure what would happen, but within minutes
Tony’s eyes opened, slowly widening with surprise--almost as they
had in her own apartment, her own bed.
But this time she was on his level, smiling at him from the other
pillow, and this time when he reached out to touch her Virginia met his
hand with her own, lacing their fingers together.
“Hi,” she whispered.
He held her gaze for a long time, searching her eyes and her soul
behind them, but she didn’t flinch. And finally his hand
tightened on hers, and he moaned softly, a sound of utter relief.
His kiss was slow, gentle to start with, a warm caress that Virginia
returned wholeheartedly. Then Tony was pressing her to her back,
his mouth coaxing hers open in a kiss much more sensual. She
shuddered beneath him, realizing anew what she had known for some
time--that Tony Stark had a reputation for a reason.
And yet, she thought dazedly as his hand traced her face and sank into
her hair, she would bet that he had never kissed anyone quite like this
before. Because she could sense the love in every touch, in the
way his hand shook, in the glitter in his eyes as he pulled back to
look at her.
“Pepper,” he said hoarsely, as if searching for words, and
she reached up and cupped his face in her own hands.
“I love you,” she told him, and pulled him down for another
kiss.
Tony whimpered once against her mouth, and then took control of things
with tender determination. Her top came off and his hands started
exploring the newly exposed skin, and she shivered, freefalling into
sensation.
He mingled her nickname with the press of his lips against her skin,
counting freckles with each kiss, smiling when the rub of his beard
made her arch up and moan. Virginia felt like each touch was a
blessing, a reverence of sorts, making her his in some irrevocable
fashion; but it was only fair, because he was already hers.
She opened herself up to him, giving him the trust he desired so
much. Tony peeled away the rest of her clothing with slow care,
eyes wide and hands deft, and she felt cherished as well as
desired. He was wearing nothing at all, and she snatched her own
chances to explore, but he made it difficult, finally catching both her
hands and smiling at her, a smile that crinkled his eyes and made her
heart ache. “Will you just let me do this, Pepper?
Please?”
“Not fair,” she murmured, leaning up to kiss him again, and
he laughed against her mouth, a quiet muffled joy.
“You can have a turn...later.” He pressed her hands
gently to the sheet beneath them, and she allowed it, the last vestiges
of shyness dissolving in the heat of his gaze. Tony took his
time, arousing her with a deliberation that bespoke a delight
she’d never seen in him before; not until she was on the point of
begging did he slip inside her, burying his face in her shoulder and
clutching her tightly.
This time, she cried too.
|
