A/N: You could read this as a stand-alone.

Or you could choose to see it as the culmination of Void and Unsalvageableā€¦.

See the little M over this? It's not a random act of Godā€¦ it's there for a reason.

A very good reason.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

He breathes in the perfume from her hair.

And he feels dizzy.

He wants her to feel the same.

His hands glide to her front, palms closing around soft round mounds of flesh.

His fingers seem to know just how to make her flesh taut and tighten and pucker and she moans.

She moans 'because he's killing her there.

And she's willing to die a thousand times over at his hands, if that means feeling like this every time he touches her.

She believes in retribution

She allows her hand to wander backwards, searching for him.

A knowing smile graces her face when she hears his breath hitching.

And she feels him harden in her hand.

He loves it when she does that.

He knows she's smiling.

He knows she thinks she now has the upper hand.

He's going to enjoy showing her differently.

One of his hands leaves her chest and treks southward.

His fingers love the feel of her plains before they curve,

And the feel of her curls as he grazes them.

He feels home.

She feels her knees go weak.

But she never ceases her hands movements.

She knows two can play the game.

She doesn't mind, losing it, though.

But she'll never admit it out loud.

His fingers keep drawing circles around the small nubs of flesh.

One up, one down, circled in perfect asynchrony.

He knows it drives her crazy.

And he likes that.

Soon she's begging without words.

She allows her hips to do the talking.

She knows he understands what she wants.

It's just a matter of how much he's going to let her beg before giving in.

She can only hope he'll hurry up this time around.

He understands her unspoken request.

He'd normally stretch this out until he's half mad with want.

But not tonight he won't.

Because tonight is going to be different.

She just doesn't know it yet.

His mouth is latched to her neck.

His hips dancing to the rhythm her hand has set.

One hand up, one hand down, both driving her slowly insane.

And he decides to take things a bit further.

He knows what she likes.

And he gives it to her easily.

Perhaps too easily.

She ought to have known he was up to something.

But his hands on her body always made it hard for her to think straight.

His fingers curve, leaving the thumb behind to keep circling.

They reach in, they part, they're allowed entrance.

And he feels like he's home.

He pumps, slowly.

He explores, leisurely.

He touches, knowingly.

And she cries out, falling apart within him.

Because of him.

She stops pretending to be able to keep up with her own ministrations.

She knows he doesn't mind.

She knows he knows he'll be getting ample reward later one.

And she enjoys what he's giving her.

She moans, she whimpers, she frets.

She comes.

But that doesn't stop him.

His thumb keeps circling, gentler, but still there.

The three fingers inside her keep working as one.

His upper hand is still kneading and pinching.

They're making his mouth very jealous.

But he stands firm in his course of action.

He knows she's closing in a second round.

He knows, and loves having the knowledge.

It's in the way her hips dance under him, next to him, coaxing him, begging him.

It's in the way his name fall from her lips,

First in a rosary peppered with moans, as she begs,

Then, in blasphemous litany as she demands.

Her voice pitches high and keens low,

And he's never loved the sound of his name more.

He knows she's ready.

She can feel he is, as well.

She starts growing impatient.

He starts second guessing his choice for the evening.

But her inner muscles closing in around his fingers make him forget his reticence.

His hand pushes farther down.

His fingers sleek and shinny from her wetness.

They play and relax and circle once more.

They timidly go in, one at a time.

His other hand is down there, taking up the place the first one vacated

Keeping up the circling and the touching

Sending her over the edge once more.

Her knees are weak, and trembling

And she knows she has to hang on to something soon

Or she'll fall to the floor

And she'd rather die standing up that go down and loose the feel of his hands

She's that far gone now.

Her words stopped making sense three caresses ago

And he's turned on by the animal-like sounds she's making

He's amazed at how easily opens up under his fingers.

He knows she's ready.

He knows he'll never be readier in his life.

She's been leaning on the sofa's head rest for close to five minutes

Every part of her is trembling, in one way or another

She's thankful when she feels him pushing her forward

At least now she can support herself fully

And the fall won't be so painful when she finally collapses

He gently nudges her legs apart

He loves rubbing himself against her folds

And she feels particularly moist tonight

Soaking him, drenching him,

But stoking his desire in leaps and bounds.

She's ready and so is he.

One of his hands goes to her hip to stabilize them

The other keeps lazily tracing circles

Around an overly sensitive bundle of nerves

His fingers still curved inside her.

As he pushes himself slowly into her,

Gradually, bit by bit, until he's completely inside of her.

His fingers have never left pushing in and out

And she gasps from the sensations

Realizing he's now filling her up in ways she never dreamt of

And she comes undone once more

He's yet to move

But he realizes he might not need to

He can feel her clenching around his fingers

And an echoing tremor mirrors the motion around him

Her hips dancing and pushing into him

Her voice breaking and growling his name.

Her hands are clutching to regain control

But she's surrendered it all to him

And he'll cherish that moment forever

But right now he's slipping as well

And no matter how much he planned on stretching this out

Until she's completely out of her mind,

So fully satisfied she'd never even dream about being with another man

He's forgotten he was only human, as well

And he certainly doesn't wish to be with another woman

Not ever again.

He's is hers, and he hopes she's his

And for now, hope is more than enough for him

Because he has stopped thinking clearly

And all he can feel is her, her closing around him

Dragging him with her into the burning fires of desire

And he fights the end with all of his might

But she's not having any of that,

And in a brief moment of sanity she issues a command.

"Come"

And he complies.

And know he knows for sure he's home.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

A/N: I know. So different from my usual style.

Please let me know what you think of this new approach!

I figured I just broke my own record: wrote this in 50 minutes flat!