A/N: This one takes place a few months into their wedding, as some sort of early finale to Fifteen Minutes of Reality. I would advice you to grasp the main idea of FMOR before you proceed with this one. But it goes okay with a stand-alone too (what lemon doesn't:P) I don't know what came over me tonight. Naughty naughty me! Read and do your thang, people!

Warning: heavy sexual contents. You have been warned. Author shall not be held responsible for any permanent brain damage or nosebleeds :D

It was all too fast.

At first, they were riding the elevator like any other normal people. The next, he had pushed the 'stop' button and the game started.

He didn't even bother with the ritual foreplay kiss. He dove straight for the valley.

The 1500-dollar Donna Karen burgundy corduroy jacket lost one of its twin buttons that day, all thanks to the footballer. Her red Versace cowl neck halter top was yanked down at the front, to reveal a strapless white bra.

"Why do you have to wear so many clothes?" he grunted, fumbling with the white garment.

Her breath hitched. "That came from a guy who insists on a wifebeater under every shirt," she retorted back softly, her hands had a death grip on the metal bar lining the boxy parameter of the lavish elevator.

Frustrated on his failed attempts to undo the front clasp on the bra, he gave the cup covering his wife's right breast a yank, and a supple mass of skin tumbled out of it.

Rukia gasped.

"Can't this wait?"

"Can you? Honestly?" he fired back, raising his face slightly to peer at her reaction. Rukia froze. She'd be damned if she had to monsoon down the heat that was overpowering her.

He smirked at her silent reply. "I thought so too," he answered quickly, before cupping the breast with his left hand. He gave it a quick squeeze, eliciting a sharp moan from her. "You like that, baby?" he taunted.

Before she could provide with any coherent answer, he yanked the other cup down roughly that the clasp broke. Milky skin and breasts peeked in between the valley of the pulled down halter top cooped together with the one-buttoned jacket.

He was turned on as hell.

"That's NafNaf!" she mourned the deformed bra, her head arching back a little, hitting the wall frustratingly.

"The what?" he repeated incredulously.

She rolled her eyes and tried to ease her pants at the same time. "Nevermind. But I expect compensation for the damaged goods."

His hands palming both mounds, it was his turn to roll his eyes. "I'll give you my credit card so just go crazy over it later," he replied hastily, bending down to suck on a pink hardened nipple. She moaned. And when he swiped his teeth over it, she thought she was seeing stars.

He fondled his way between both breasts for awhile, driving his petite wife crazy with pent-up ecstasy. Her hands still gripping on the metal bar, she refused to participate in her husband's idea of a 'public bang', although the elevator was completely in a closed compartment.

His earlier rough and hasty movements slowed down, and he massaged the mounds gently with his expert hands. His eyes locked with her indigo ones. Within minutes the clear amber had darkened with lust and passion. Secretly, she relished at the fact that she was capable of satiating him like that.

"Do you see what you're doing to me?" Ichigo breathed, closing the gap between their mouths as his hovered dangerously near hers. She closed her eyes momentarily, subconsciously arching her back to lean closer to his expert hands. She shook her head to answer him.

"You've turned me from a high-morale person into somebody who bangs his wife in the elevator," he provided the answer huskily. He smirked before claiming her lower lip. She sighed. He pecked gently again. They continued the lips meshing for awhile, each fighting for dominance.

"Aren't you giving up anytime soon?"

"No," she wavered, still arching in his touch.


He ran a tongue on her upper lip, coaxing for entrance. Her guard slipped, and he victoriously plunged into her. She tasted of cinnamon, contribution of her morning dolce latte. He groaned at the sweet and spicy mixture, and felt a new wave of heat engorging him.

It was getting too hot in there.

Frustrated with her immobile hands, he took matters into his own. Tongues still clashing, his hands momentarily departed from her breasts and headed south. She immediately missed the caress, but too distracted with his literal verbal lashing to word out a response.

His hands tugged at the hem of her top and pushed it up to reveal the low rise of her jeans. He ran a finger softly along the waistline, and was glad to earn a hiss from her. He felt around and snapped the side of her thong that was peeking out from the jeans.

Pulling away from her mouth, he smirked. The game was heating up.

On lightning speed, he was crouching in front of her, undoing the jeans' button. He could feel her abdominal muscles getting tensed. Slowly, he pulled the zipper down. The soft sound hammered in her ears.

"Black thong and white bra? You sure can match your underwear, baby," he chuckled, admiring the way the lacy stuff covering her maidenhood. He blew hot breaths on her crown, teasing her as she coiled and buckled her knees in response.

"You talk too much, Kurosaki," she breathed, finally releasing a hand from the metal bar. She leaned down to tug on his orange mane to pull his face up. "Soon you'll learn my art of matching my underwear," she smirked.

He raised an eyebrow, but complied as his wife grabbed a mass of attached hair and pulled his head close to her crotch. He grinned wickedly as he inserted a finger between the jeans and the thong, without bothering to pull the jeans down her legs. The mere contact brought another hiss to her lips. The tip of his digit wedged deeper, until it rested on the fabric lacing her opening. God, was she wet.

If he had his way, he would tease and start with tapping on her opening. But with the jeans confining his movement, he resorted with the easy score and without a warning, he plunged his middle finger into her.

Her mouth formed the perfect 'O'.

"Move… thong… away…" she panted, frustrated that his finger's whole length didn't succeed in a thorough entrance due to the fabric constriction.

Obliging, he moved the lace to the side and plunged two fingers into her wet opening this time. Deep and hollow. She gasped.

He thrust into her, quickening the pace as the other free hand reached up to fondle a breast. Upset that his mouth wasn't taking part in any action, he stood up, fingers still remained deep in her to cover her mouth with his. Another session of tongue lashing as he consistently pushed in and pulled out of her.

As she started to become wet, he grinned devilishly onto her mouth and pulled away again. He resumed his crouching position and pulled out his fingers from inside of her. She groaned at the lapse of ecstasy.

"Hang on, baby. I'm not finished yet," he whispered, smirking up at her. She looked down hazily on him, unaware of what to expect. He licked her juice off his fingers erotically and her eyeballs rolled inward. He was teasing him, that bastard.

"Don't crawl, Kurosaki. I'm falling asleep up here," she managed to stutter between lucid thoughts.

The next thing she knew, she felt another snap, and another tug.

She looked down expectantly at him, who was holding her once attached thong in his hand. He shrugged. "Sorry, this just has to go," he said. He fingered the lace in his hand. "I catch your drift about the fashion statement. Pearl-beaded thong," he added. "I feel special, sweetheart."

"Less talk or that thong will be the only thing you're getting today."

He grinned. "Touché." He looked up for a bit. "Scream my name."

With that, he grabbed her bottom and pulled her close to his mouth. He kissed the entrance at first, licking off the remaining juice. The sensation of his mouth on her shot electric up her spine, and she thrust her hip forward in his hold. He pulled down the jeans more to accommodate his exploration, at the same time grabbing her round ass tighter in his palms. She hissed again. After a few moments of endless teasing at her entrance, he plunged his velvety tongue into her, flicking it expertly.

Another hand left the metal bar. This time, both hands buried amidst her husband's orange hair. She threw her head back, feeling a bead of sweat rolling down from her forehead. The elevator was getting too hot for her. She yearned for his tongue to reach deeper, pushing his head closer to her. "Deeper!" she urged.

He complied. Her inhibition slowly unraveling, he felt the urge to free himself rising. His own jeans felt too tight on him. Pulling away for a bit, he unbuckled his belt and proceeded to unzip his pants to relief his growing tent.

She giggled slightly at the sight. "Hi little Ichi!" she greeted, a hand leaving the orange mass to wave slightly at his member hiding in his briefs.

His eyes bulged a little. "I thought I told you to stop with the little Ichi! It's obviously not little!"

"A little pigheaded, aren't we?" she replied slyly.

"Baby, the number of times you screamed due to it certainly proves my point of its definite size," he remarked, gesturing to his arousal while grinning sexily. His eyes darted between her indigo orbs and her pink wet velvety flesh, already missing its warmth.

She giggled again. "Whoa, you're the only guy I know who could pull out a dictionary while having sex."

He groaned before grabbing her ass again. "I'd better be the only guy you know while having sex," he warned playfully, before closing his mouth around her again. This time, he sucked on her.

Eyeballs rolling inward, she gasped in pleasure. She felt her knees wobbling as his tongue continued his assault on her womanhood. She could feel the inside of her contracting, getting hotter by the second. She sensed it near. "I'm…." she gasped between breaths. "There," she croaked, as her juices spilled into his mouth.

He licked his lips, swallowing every last drop of her. "Damn, last night tasted like papaya. Did you eat strawberries this morning?"

She grinned seductively. "Yeah." Pulling him up to his feet, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt to bring her up to his lips. "You like?" she whispered, hot air blowing on his lips.

He grinned. "My wife, the fruit bowl."

Lips fumbling, she slid her hands into his briefs and grabbed her husband's firm buttocks to bring his hip closer to her. He groaned against her lips as he felt her squeezing him. "Can I have your ass? I think it's sexier than mine," she said on his lips, loving the feeling of his backside in her hands.

"No, can't do, sweetie. Besides, I happen to think yours is downright killer," he replied, smiling on her lips as he squeezed her butt as emphasis.

She hummed in delight. Sliding her hands to the front, she finally reached her length. Her fingers brushed lightly on his tip, his breathing hitched. She smirked. "A little wet in here?" she asked innocently, running a hand up and down his shaft.

He groaned. He was getting harder and harder in her hand. Feeling peaked all over again at his response; she didn't waste any more time. She tugged down his briefs, pulling his member out of its constriction. He co-operated by a quick finger job to lubricate her again. Cupping her bottom, he lifted her off the floor. Hearts thumping, breaths hitching, she guarded him into her. A quarter of his length, and she already slammed herself against the elevator wall. She raised a leg to encircle his waist, demanding him to be nearer.

His full length inside of her, and she finally screamed. "Ichigo!"

"I love hearing you say my name when you're all horny, Rukia," he grunted, grinding against her. She was tight around him, just the way he loved it. He started moving in and out. Her impatience was noted as she grabbed hold of his buttocks, helping him in slamming his hips into her. "Faster!" she demanded.

He let out a soft laugh. "You're so hard to please, baby." Complying, he quickened the pace. He hitched her up higher in his hold so that his lips could easily tease her breasts. Overwhelmed with passion, she felt herself contracting again. He lifted her butt higher, knowing he could hit her G-spot better in that angle. And right he was. To add to his touch, he slid a hand between them and toyed with her clit.

Within moments, she tightened around him, reaching her climax. He kept to his rhythm, grinding and moving and he finally closed his eyes and felt himself releasing his seeds into her.

"If one of those becomes little me or little you, you're the one telling them where they were conceived," she whispered into his ears and he leaned his forehead on her shoulder.

He let out a small laugh. "Sure thing if it's a little me," he replied, smiling down on her as he pecked her softly on the forehead. "You deal with the little you."

"I sure hope he won't grow up banging girls in elevators," she teased, unhooking her legs from around him.

"And I pray she won't ever meet guys who bang girls in elevators," he continued, pulling himself out of her. She helped to tuck him back into his briefs. "Or else I'm kicking some ass."

She laughed. She watched as he pulled up her jeans zipper and her top, burying the spilled breasts. "You popped my favorite jacket button, broke my bra clasp and ripped my panties. How am I supposed to walk into that interview without my underwear?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned. "C'mon. I don't think Oprah's gonna peek into your top now, is she?"

She grumbled. "You'd better stay at the farthest end of the couch later. Even the slightest touch of my arm is prohibited. If I leak through my jeans later, I'm gonna get your head," she threatened him playfully. She grabbed her damaged bra from his hand and shoved it into her handbag. "She'd better not peek into my handbag as well," she muttered.

"And I'm gonna hang on to this one," he said, shoving his pearl-beaded thong into his jeans pocket. She laughed, tip-toeing to plant a soft kiss on his lips.

He grinned. "You ready?"

She groped one last time on his member, and his eyes widened. She grinned wickedly before pulling her hand back to her side. "Ready."

Smirking, he pushed the 'stop' button again and the elevator burred to life.

"That was such a beneficial 20 minutes, don't you think?" he asked her, encircling his arm around her waist to bring her closer.

She nodded and leaned back against his chest, before sighing contentedly. "You bet."