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novamariestark · 26 days

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A Dangerous Game - H.V

Summary: You get brought into interrogation as a potential suspect in a murder. You get a little... playful, when your lover is one of the ones questioning you.

Warnings: age gap, smut, unprotected sex (wrap b4 you tap), public sex (i guess), pet names, handcuffs, oral (f receiving), proofread (but i always find a mistake that a ghost wrote after I post 🤣)

Word count: 2437

Fandom: Chicago P.D

Pairing: Hank Voight x reader

[A/N] as promised 😁 Happy Smut Saturday everyone

At first, you took it seriously. I mean, why on earth would you want to be arrested for a murder you didn’t commit? But as soon as he walked in the room, looking as deliciously fuckable as he did this morning, you just couldn’t think of anything else but fucking him in this very room, on this very table.

"I don't know what to tell you, man," you said, your fingers dancing on the table. Two men were sat opposite you. One of them you didn't know and the other was your man, your lover. Maybe you could finally live out one of your fantasies. All you needed was the other guy to leave the room. And you had an idea on how to do that, "I was getting a good dicking at the time of the murder," you giggled.

The stranger's eyes widened, and he coughed, obviously not expecting such bluntness. But Hank Voight, the man you were referring to, remained stoic. He obviously knew exactly what you meant. He had been the one giving you that 'good dicking'. He leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. God you loved those arms. of course, the only thing that would make it better was no shirt, when those very arms are wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him whilst he’s pounding into you relentlessly.

You think back to that morning, before work, riding him on the couch, you just couldn’t help it. He was a drug, and you were addicted to it. Your thighs clamp shut as you remember how good he’d made you feel, how good he always makes you feel. Your bottom lip subconsciously sucked in between your teeth as you looked at him. His eyes never left yours, challenging you to keep it up. And you took that challenge. You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a seductive whisper, "It was... so good,"

The room was silent except for the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you. The other detective, clearly uncomfortable, shifted in his seat. He had been trying to ignore the tension from the moment Hank walked into the room, the way your eyes lit up when you looked his way, the way Hank's jaw clenched every time you spoke. It was more than just a suspect's usual taunting; it was a game to you.

"Alright, Miss...," the stranger began, flipping through his notes, "Miss (y/l/n). Could you be a bit more...specific?"

"You sure you can handle that?" you asked, moving to rest your arms on the table, a sweet smile on your face. When you didn't get a reply, you continued, "Okay, well it started with me on my knees for him, he loves that. Just as much as I love being on my knees," you whispered, your eyes locked on Hank's, "Anyway, he then wanted to taste me so, I lay down on the couch..."

The detective's cheeks reddened, and he cleared his throat, flipping his notebook shut. "I'm going to get some coffee," he mumbled, standing up and practically sprinting out of the room.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Hank stood, his palms flat on the table, hovering over you, "What do you think you're playing at?"

"You know I'm innocent," you smiled, looking up at him with doe eyes, you then bit your lip again, "Well, innocent of murder," you whispered, your voice a tantalizing purr.

Hank's expression didn't change. "I know you are," he replied, his voice a low rumble.

"Is anyone behind the glass?" you asked, your gaze flicking towards the one-way mirror behind him.

"(y/v), how did you know King?" Hank asked, his tone firm, ignoring your question.

"This table seems very sturdy," you said, your eyes never leaving Hank's as you leaned back into your chair, crossing your legs. You could feel the heat of his stare on you, his anger simmering just below the surface. You knew you were pushing his buttons, but you enjoyed every second.

"(y/n)," he growled, his voice a sound of warning. "Don't play games with me."

"I thought you loved playing with me, Daddy?" your smile widened, voice dripping with innocence.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he murmured, leaning closer.

"What you gonna do about it, Sergeant?" you asked, moving into a position where he had a better line of sight to your breasts.

His head dropped, his line of sight to the table, his eyes shut tight as he tries not to let you get to him, any more than you already had, "You're a suspect in a murder investigation,"

"What do you do to the ones who don't talk?" you asked, moving your finger to rest on your bottom lip as you looked up at him, the same look you give him when you’ve got him deep in your mouth. Hank's jaw clenched even tighter, "You get a little rough?"

The tension was palpable in the air, thick and heavy like the fog before a storm. Hank leaned in closer, his breath hot on your neck, "(y/n), you're pushing it," he warned, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver of excitement down your spine.

"Am I?" you teased, reaching out your hand to run it down his chest, "I thought you liked it when I'm...difficult."

Hank's grip on the table tightened, his knuckles turning white. "You know I do," he murmured, his voice low and gruff, "But not here,"

"You don't want to punish me for being a bad girl?" you whispered, your voice the sexy bratty tone that he loved, "You don't want to handcuff me to the table and fuck the brat out of me?"

Hank took a step back, his eyes darkening with every word that you spoke. You smirked because you couldn't help the way his body responded to your words, "You're not making this easy on yourself," he said through gritted teeth.

Your smile never wavered, "Since when have I ever wanted easy?" you challenged.

Hank's eyes narrowed.

Suddenly, Hank's hand shot out, yanking you out of the chair and pressed you against the table, your breasts flattening against the steel, you heart racing as his handcuffs clamped around one wrist, around a leg of the table and snapped around the other wrist. He was quick, efficient, and surprisingly gentle despite the force behind his actions. He knew you liked it rough, but he would never be too rough with you. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he leaned in, his mouth hovering above your ear, "This what you wanted, baby girl?"

Your body responded immediately to the command in his voice. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the hardness of his thighs pressing into you. "Yes, Daddy, please" you breathed, your voice stuttered whisper.

Hank's grip on your neck tightened, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just behind your ear. "You know I'd never leave you needy, sweetheart," he murmured. He pulled you closer, his free hand sliding around your waist to the small of your back, pressing you against his body. You could feel his erection, straining against his pants, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. You started to move your hips, your ass rubbing against him, the friction sending a delicious ache straight to your core.

"But, Daddy," you panted, "I've been a very, very bad girl."

With a smirk, he released your neck and sat down in the chair you had been occupying moments before, pulling you closer until your ass was in his face. Without a second thought, he yanked down your pants and panties, exposing your glistening pussy to the cool air of the interrogation room, "Then I guess you need to be taught a lesson," he said, his voice deeper than usual, gruff with need. He pushed your legs apart, his hand on your waist keeping you in place.

Your breath hitched as you felt his warm breath against you, his rough hands spreading you open. You had dreamed of this moment so many times, of being at his mercy while you were handcuffed and vulnerable. Your body responded immediately, your legs quivering as he began to feast on you, his tongue delving into your folds, tasting your sweetness. You couldn't help but moan, your hips bucking against his mouth as he devoured you, his teeth nipping at your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and his muffled growls of pleasure as he ate you out, his tongue swirling and lapping, his nose pressed against your ass as he held you in place. You could feel your orgasm building, the tension coiling in your stomach, your toes curling. Hank knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you scream.

Your handcuffed wrists were starting to ache, but the pain only heightened your pleasure. You pushed back harder, your body begging for more, your moans growing louder. Hank's grip on your waist tightened, his other hand reaching up under your shirt to pinch your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. The dual sensation of pleasure and pain pushing you closer to the edge.

As you reached the peak, your legs began to shake, your moans turning into screams that were muffled by the tabletop. Hank didn't let up, his tongue flicking and probing, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh until you came, your body convulsing against the table. He still didn't stop, though, not until you were a trembling mess, panting and gasping for air.

Slowly, he stood up, his eyes as dark as the night. The sound of his belt being unbuckled behind you was the only sound in the room. The wait was driving you wild, your body trembling with need. He was deliberately making you wait but pretty soon he couldn’t take his own torture.

With one swift movement, Hank yanked your hips back and slammed into you, filling you completely and making you cry out. The force of his thrusts was intense, pushing your body against the table, the metal handcuffs biting into your wrist. But you didn't care. You wanted this, you needed this.

He smacked your ass, the sound off the walls of the small room, leaving a sting that only added to the pleasure. You pushed back against him, urging him to go harder, faster, deeper. Your moans grew louder, mixing with his grunts of effort and enjoyment. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he pulled you back to meet each thrust. You could feel the muscles in his arms bulging, his entire body taut with tension.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as Hank reached one hand down to your head, fisting your hair and yanking your head back, arching your back and pulling you up off the table, "You like that?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

"Yes," you moaned, your eyes squeezed shut as all you could focus on was the sensations he was giving you.

He yanked your hair again, "Yes what?"

"Yes Daddy," you breathed, the words leaving your lips in a rush of pleasure as Hank's hand smacked down on your ass again. He didn't hold back, giving you the rough treatment you had been craving, his cock pounding into you with a ferocity that left you breathless.

With each thrust, the table scraped against the floor, the room filled with the symphony of your moans and the slap of flesh against flesh. Hank's other hand was tangled in her hair, pulling her head back so he could see your face in the glass, the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You met his gaze in the one-way glass, and whispered, "More."

Hank didn't need any more encouragement. He pulled your hips closer, his cock slamming into you with an intensity that had you screaming his name. The pain mixed with the pleasure, creating an intoxicating cocktail that had you begging for more, that had your body writhing under his.

He leant down, tilting your head back, exposing your neck to his teeth. He bit down gently, his teeth scraping your skin as he fucked you harder, his hips slapping against your ass. You could feel the edge fast approaching, your muscles tightening around him, your pussy clenching. His grip on your hair tightened, his teeth digging in deeper, and you knew he was close too.

With a final, powerful thrust, Hank came inside you, filling you with his seed. He groaned, his body shuddering as he held you in place, his cock still pulsing. Your orgasm hit you like a wave, making your entire body spasm. Your legs gave out, but the handcuffs kept you on the table, your ass in the air with Hank's cock still deep inside you.

As you both caught your breath, Hank leaned over you, his hand still in your hair, "You ready to answer my question yet?"

You looked over your shoulder at him. As if you could remember anything right now, "What question was that?" you panted.

"How do you know King?" Hank repeated.

“He was my boyfriend in college. We had a fling, nothing serious."

Hank released your hair, letting it fall down your back in a cascade of (y/h/c) waves. He leaned back, his cock slipping out of your, and you couldn't help the slight wince as the loss of his warmth left you feeling empty. He leaned over you and unfastened the handcuffs, freeing you from the cold embrace of the table. He pulled your pants up, smoothing the fabric over your reddened skin. You slid down from the table, legs wobbly, and he caught you, pulling you into his lap as he sat back down in the chair.

"When was the last time you saw him?" he asked, his head resting on the top of yours as you snuggled into him.

"9-10 years ago, last I heard, he moved to New York. I don't know why he was here,"

He asks you a few more questions about King, before the two of you leave the room to find all the detectives looking your way. It was obvious they heard the moans and the screams, but none of them dare to say anything. Well, none except one.

"So, I guess you are her alibi, Sarge," Adam asked and all heads snap towards him, looking at him as though he had a death wish or something…

#female reader #reader insert #hank voight #hank voight x reader #chicago pd #daddy af

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sageprada · 1 year

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cool people. part II

chris pine x musician!reader (slightly oc)

pintrest board

part one

synopsis: a series chronicling the love affair between a famous musician and her actor neighbor

word count : 8.5k

warnings: 18+ ONLY, fluff, slight smut, age gap relationship (reader is late 20’s while chris is 42), lil sub!reader, swearing, explicit descriptions of sexual content, mentions of drugs and alcohol

authors note : i’m back ! it only took a year for me to finally drop part two of cool people. i truly appreciate all the love i’ve received from part one along with my blog in general. truly if people didn’t ask for a part two this would have just sat in my drafts for eternity. so thank you for all the love truly ! y’all are mother fuckin’ best and more chris content to come <3.

Time wasn’t something she was sensitive to. Explicitly, the passage of time as a year seemed to pass by in merely a few months.

Working had always come naturally to her. Her parents' hunger to succeed was an appetite she’d clearly inherited. The need for sleep or spending time with her peers had at one point come second to spending hours in her cramped recording studio converted basement. She wouldn’t allow herself to relish in her achievements because all she could seem to focus on was the next task.

Imposter syndrome had become a major topic between her and her therapist. She’d recently started sharing with her family her experience of waking up in the middle of the night with tight breaths stuck in her throat as she felt like a stranger in her own body.

Her Mom and Dad were extremely worried, with one of them calling or texting her at least once a day to check in. Her younger brother, Wyatt, suggested for the tenth time this year that he could join her in LA and help out. He’d just graduated from high school and successfully convinced their parents to participate in a gap year to really explore his options. Of course, that came with the price of finding a job, and being a dishwasher at Dad’s bakery wasn’t, in his words, cuttin’ it.

Her older brother, Anthony, and his boyfriend politely forced her to join them on a four-day weekend vacation to the Caribbean, where she was forced to take part in the "Double U’s".

"You’ve just got to Unplug and Unwind."

Conveniently, the escape to paradise fell upon the 95th Oscar nomination announcements.

It was her first major motion picture project. She spent months working under numerous conductors in preparation and even bought a membership to the LA Philharmonic because she’d started frequenting concerts for research. She’d often wear the hoodie she bought at the gift shop to rehearsals.

During every part of the process, she had complete creative control. From section leader auditions to picking out what type of mics would be used for recording sessions. Never had she felt more challenged creatively. Yes, at one point she thought she would develop sores on her temples with the constant rubbing away of migraines. She was smoking nonstop due to the stress and anxiety. Her messages were going unread. And while it was unhealthy, at the time she hadn’t been happier.

It was in her contract when she agreed to do the movie's score that she would be submitted for competition. It would be her first time conducting, with most of the members of the orchestra having never done such a big project either. She wanted to make sure she was opening doors for as many people as she could, giving them the shot she had been gracious enough to get herself.

At the very least, she expected a couple film festivals and critics to give her a pat on the back for her efforts. A handful of positive reviews and, at most, one of the best experiences she ever had the privilege of being a part of.

But the movie was a commercial hit, and whispers began to surround her.

So it wasn’t a surprise that her brother crafted this scheme behind her back. They were so close that he always seemed to know what was best for her before she could even figure out what was wrong. However, it took Anthony dunking her into the crystal blue ocean fully clothed for her to admit the escapism was helping immensely.

On the last day, she was abruptly woken up at six in the morning by the sound of tiny confetti cannons going off. Two grown men came barreling in, jumping up and down ceremoniously on her bed while chanting her name. Quickly, an iPad was thrust into her hands, with a bright blue light displaying a Zoom call with family and close friends all congratulating her.

Five years ago, she was a sound engineer for an independent music label and a background vocalist for an experimental R&B group.

She was now an Academy Award nominee. The thirteenth woman and youngest person ever nominated for Best Original Score

Through blurred eyes, riddled with shock and still slightly drowsy, she was full-blown crying while she blabbed during the call. Luckily, her very big family was filled with very BIG personalities, so no one seemed to comment on even notice as they talked over each other. Except one, and she was so grateful to see the man she was missing the most pixilated image gaze at her fondly in the corner of the screen.

Chris was just starting to become a constant in her life during pre-production, even if it felt like he had somehow always been there. In the span of their year together, he wasn’t just helping her by being there; he was helping her grow as a person. He was enriching her life, even if she dreaded the early morning yoga classes he made her go to or the weekly kale smoothies he had her drink. Chris was so in tune with his emotions and so open with her that she started working on herself to do the same. No longer did she feel embarrassed by how often she craved his presence. She constantly ached for his soothing voice, which always seemed to be the perfect remedy for calming her down. His touch was a sweet elixir that made all her worries disappear.

But the consistent praise, reassurance, and love that Chris provided her was the exact reason why she was able to be this open. After all, this was her first serious relationship to any degree.

Everything was looking up until the photos leaked.

LA nights this time of year were a bit brisk, but that did nothing to divert the couple's attention from one another.

They’d just had dinner and were now waiting for the valet to bring Chris’s car around. He’d picked her up from a meeting in West Hollywood earlier that evening and surprised her with a reservation at a new restaurant she’d been wanting to try. He got back from press in England a couple days ago, and they've managed so far to do at least one thing every day together since.

"You smell heavenly." He stood behind her, arms wrapped around her waist, encouraging her to rest her back against his chest. Her white tank top was a little more casual than she’d preferred to wear, but it did nothing to defer her mood with the way he’d been looking at her all night.

"Oh? Maybe it’s cause someone thought I needed a new perfume?" With sarcasm dripping from her voice, she could feel his lips smirking against the skin of her neck. One of Chris’s love languages was gift-giving. He spoiled her beyond comprehension, and it was something she was still getting used to. He was a person so used to luxury that at times she had to remind him she was still ‘new money’.

"I’m telling you, I just couldn’t get the scent out of my head." He pulled away and moved his hand to gently turn your head to face him. He held a serious gaze, and she kept her lips tight to stop herself from snickering. Always dramatic, Chris had already told her this story twice. But he spoke with so much passion and looked at her with so much awe that she didn’t have the heart to stop him from repeating it.

"I thought at first it was just one of a random coffee. Or maybe a poorly advertised flower shop, because I’d at times smell fresh tulips, but the street the hotel was on was honestly, baby, bleek and underwhelming. So, one day we finished early, and I’d just gotten off the phone with you to say goodnight. I went for a walk, and lo and behold, just at the end of the block, guess what I saw."

Looking up at him, she brushed a fallen strand of hair from his face and couldn’t imagine being more in love with anyone at that exact moment.

"No, whatcha see?"

He smiled at her encouragement for him to continue. "Down the same street I’d taken my run just the day before, I'd look to my left , and right there is a quaint little perfume shop. One that had been there for over one hundred years. Now, I felt like there was a reason I hadn’t noticed it till then, and that day the air had a particular sweet scent lingering. One that seemed so familiar, but yet I couldn’t put my finger on it, so I went inside to investigate." At this point, she’d turned her whole body towards Chris to give him her full attention. He kept one arm around her waist; not one inch of space separated their bodies. His other hand was resting on her neck, his thumb lightly gazing at her jaw while he kept eye contact.

"It was obvious the place had history. Filled to the brim with different vials and incense that you’d think would be overwhelming, but it was actually very calming. One scent seemed to stand out amongst the rest—one that reminded me of someone, one that smelled like home."

He allowed his thumb to graze over her bottom lip for a third time; he couldn’t seem to stop himself. "The nice shopkeeper said one of the ingredients is honeycomb that’s derived from a local bee farm in town. So it’s one of a kind, just like you."

She grew shy, diverting her attention to see the valet pulling up next to them. As she watched the young man approach them, she gave him a soft smile but felt Chris eyes still on her. Hands still on her.

"Sir, your keys."

That seemed to knock the older man out of his trance. "Thank you." Chris stepped away to grab his keys and passed the man a tip before leading her to the passenger side of the car, hand dangerously low on her back. It seemed they could never go a few moments together without some sort of physical contact.

"She also said that it had a hint of jasmine, which is a natural aphrodisiac."

He whispered this into her ear while reaching for her seatbelt to buckle her in. It was something he liked to do often—another little trait that always filled her with warmth and made her head fog.

"Wait…" He’d never shared that fact. "You got me a pheromone perfume?"

As he finished bulking her in, he pulled back and gave her a sly wink.

"How else am I going to get you to fall in love with me?"

TMZ had taken their photos at some point without their knowledge. Selling them off to god knows how many entertainment outlets and gossip blogs in less than twelve hours. She woke up to an article link sent by her manager the next morning.

Daily Mail

Neighborly Romance!? Chris Pine and Musician Kapital looked quite comfortable together while grabbing dinner in LA.

Can’t say anyone saw this one coming!

Kapital, the two-time Grammy-winning artist, was seen being embraced by the Dungeons and Dragons star while out enjoying a quiet night at one of LA’s newest restaurants. The actor, 42, was all smiles as the couple stood waiting for a valet. Pine dressed in a classic white button-up and timeless slacks, while Kapital opted for a more relaxed outfit with a long denim skirt paired with a leather jacket.

This news comes just days after the announcement of the Queens-based musician's surprising Academy Award nomination for Best Score, making her the youngest nominee in the category's history.

This isn’t the first time the pair has been seen together, having previously been spotted accompanying one another on walks around their neighborhood in Studio City. However, since living next door to each other since 2020, it’s the first time it's been insinuated that there might be more than just trips to the local coffee shop where their relationship stops.

They weren’t even kissing, but it was obvious from the intimate position they were caught in that it wasn’t just two neighbors grabbing a bite to eat. She read over the article multiple times, squeezing Chris bicep as he slept soundly next to her.

Their little bubble was slowly cracking. They knew with their individual careers that it would eventually happen, but mourning its loss and what was to come from it was a step into the unknown neither of them had yet faced.

Apparently, sunshine is rare this time of year in Berlin. Its appearance was delightful, as it aligned perfectly with her impromptu visit to the city.

With her sternum pressed into the iron railing of the hotel balcony, dozens of hours spent on a plane made her exceptionally appreciative of the fresh air. But, hell, she couldn’t really complain. First class never ceased to surpass her expectations.

She’d never been flown out by someone outside of work-related engagements. Especially during one of the busiest times in her life, and it took multiple people's permission to get her here so quickly. Her manager, Grace, was the hardest to convince. They’d been working together since the very beginning of both of their careers. Being Grace’s first client out of business school, she was the older sister she never had and always cherished both her work and personal opinion.

She raced around her room hastily packing while continuing to glance periodically at her propped phone on her dresser. Grace was seen in her big designer reading glasses while she rubbed her pregnant belly with skepticism on their FaceTime call last night.

"Are you sure about this? I’ll have to call GQ and see if they're willing to reschedule."

"I mean, I’ll be back Sunday afternoon, just in time for the interview Monday. And besides, he already bought the ticket."

She heard the sound of Grace crunching angrily at another Pringle.

"Of course, when I’ve begged you to take a break, you’ve wanted to keep working. But now that we have the literal OSCARS next week, you wanna go off to Europe to be with your DILF boyfriend."

She could hear Grace’s husband off camera telling her to watch her heart rate; she’s notorious for having a bit of a short fuse, and stress was not good for the baby.

"Wait, Chris doesn’t have any kids?"

"Babe, his dog counts."

They both laughed before Grace sighed. "As your manager, I can’t help but not be the biggest fan of this situation; it’s a slight distraction. But as your friend, I’ve seen how he makes you feel. Hell, everyone has. So fuck it, what’s a couple days?" She continued, looking at the younger girl fondly. "Your best interests are always my top priority, even if it means allowing you to go drop your pants for Captain Kirk."

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the text she had gotten a text until the two minute notification reminder went off. Walking back into the suite, she flopped on one of the luxurious armchairs unlocking her phone.

Chris

On my way up.

She’d just barely arrived, not even twenty minutes ago, delusionally thinking she’d have more time to freshen herself up.

Racing to the master bathroom, she had no time to admire the space before quickly washing her face and brushing her teeth. There was no time to change into the provocative lounge wear she’d originally planned to greet him in, hoping the sweatsuit set wasn’t a complete turnoff.

Just as she walked back into the living room, she was met with the sound of the front door opening.

"Sweets! I’m he-." Chris was adorned in a pale blue suit, soft against his lightly bronzed skin. He’d been outside a lot helping her with her garden as they were approaching spring in LA.

He didn’t finish his exclamation. Instead, he kept his eyes glued on her, as if like a hunter that’d just been noticed by its prey. She stood frozen, only allowing herself to watch him as he moved across the room with calculated steps.

He placed a golden box down on the coffee table, finally reaching her position at the master bedrooms entryway. Chris didn’t want anything to prevent him from grabbing the sides of her face, standing so impossibly close that she was forced to look up at him. Personal space was nonexistent in the couple’s vocabulary.

"Hi," She whispered.

"Hello baby."

Kissing Chris always felt like the first time. The action of him leaning down to capture her lips never failed to make her lightheaded. The dragging of his top lip as it flushed against hers always left her breathless. He’d managed to slightly suck her bottom lip in between his every time, whether it was a chaste peck or a full-on make-out.

Her hands moved to grip his white undershirt tightly, his lean abs prominent under her touch.

God, those yoga classes were paying off.

He didn’t release her until a soft whine escaped from her throat, satisfied at how breathless he’d made her.

"Look at you." Sky-blue eyes shamelessly traveled over her body as she nuzzled her face into his palm. "Was the flight okay? Did you get any rest?"

She scoffed at his worry. "Yes, everything was fine. Short layover in London, so I got some Nando’s. Was practically in a food coma the rest of the way here."

He let out a deep hum in approval, gently caressing the apples of her cheeks with his thumb. "That sounds good, baby. I still want you to be relaxed." She knows he’s referring to his last-minute request for her to be there with him. As soon as he asked her to come, he felt guilty because she had so much going on herself.

"Chris, I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to. Missed you too."

That warranted another kiss. She could feel his smile as he cheekily slipped his tongue quickly over hers.

"Wanna take a bath together?" Eyes still closed, she felt him whisper the request against her skin. One of his hands had traveled down to her ass, giving it a soft squeeze as a choked breath left her parted lips. Her previous worries that he wouldn’t be attracted to her casual state flew out the balcony window with all the reassurance in his touch.

She nodded and opened her eyes once she heard him tsk. His nose was pressed against her, minty breath washing over her face.

"Gotta hear it, Sweets."

"Yes please."

He smiled, proud of the verbal confirmation.

"Let me go start the water."

She hated how cold and empty the air got as he left her to head to the bathroom. But she couldn’t resist the urge to watch him walk away as he started to strip out of his clothes in the process.

"Open that box on the table. I think you’ll like it." He insisted.

Slightly dizzy from the kiss, she shook her head and blinked a couple times.

Damn girl, chill.

The box had a soft bow nestled beautifully in its corner. The name Rausch in black cursive text sat in the center.

Various arrays of chocolates greeted her, and she bit her lips happily as she assessed the multiple options. Each was so delicately crafted with intricate designs that she decided Chris and she would just have to split each one to have a chance to try them all. Walking into the bathroom, a sight just as sweet as the chocolate she’d just bit into was awaiting her.

Chris, as naked as the day he was born, was slowly stepping into the deep tub located in the center of the bathroom.

"I don’t mind you looking baby girl, but the waters gonna get cold."

"Right!" She sat the box on the edge of the tub as she quickly started undoing her sweatpants.

No longer was she hesitant to expose herself to Chris; the older man had explored her body inside and out more times than she’d be able to count. But he always looked at her the same way. As if he’d never seen her naked before. Like a child with a present on Christmas, he looked as if he was thinking of all the ways he was going to play with his new toy.

It made her feel incredibly sexy.

Taking another bit of the chocolate she presented him, he playfully nipped her finger as she pulled away. The water was at the perfect temperature; Chris naturally ran hot, and as he rested himself against her between her legs, she couldn't think of how this moment could be any more perfect.

"You have one."

"What makes you say that?" Her voice rose in intrigue. Chris surprised her time and time again with his observational skills.

There was never room for empty conversation, unless she intended it. Over the years, she found fascination in interesting factoids that she somehow was always able to conjure up for anyone willing to hear them. Sometimes, Chris just asked because he liked to get a peek into that fascinating mind of hers.

"Because you always do." His hand pinched her waist, and she swatted his bicep. Taking her wet hand, she pushed back his short blonde salt and pepper hair in thought.

"Well, this hotel is old as shit, so it's got a lot of history. Notoriously, Michael Jackson held his infant son, Prince Michael, over the balcony while paparazzi gathered below. " She glanced at the window that was nestled on the far left wall, smiling because she knew she'd got him with that one.

She feels him go stiff. He turned around slightly to look up at her from his place on her chest and saw her smirk. "No fucking way."

"Yes, way."

"Fuck. That’s a good one."

As she reached for another chocolate, she felt his hand trace over the curve of her breast. Not so much with sexual interest, but more with admiration.

"Why’d you accept my invitation?"

She knew he was being serious by the way his voice dropped an octave. He said her name, her real name, and she dropped the chocolate gently back in the box.

"You sounded like you needed someone."

It was a stretch of the truth. Chris knew that, and he let out a sigh.

"I think we both know I just needed you." He leaned up to turn and face her. She felt slightly exposed in that moment, but of course Chris noticed. He always does. So to ease the tension, he grabbed a piece of chocolate and took the first bite. He leans forward, and she sighs into the sweet kiss before he slips the other half in her mouth. Now it was her turn to nip his finger.

"Yeah, but then that begs the question: why couldn't you just wait 'till you were back in town next week?" She keeps his hand close, holding one in between both of hers. "Knew I wasn’t going to New York until the end of the month; could’ve just waited."

He acknowledged her point with a subtle head tilt.

"I simply enjoy being with you. I enjoy laughing with you, touching you. You make everything I do seem worthwhile. I need you to understand how badly, Sweets, I want to have you in any possible way, either as this version of ourselves or something more; just having you in my life is the best thing I could have ever been gifted."

He let the statement sit for a bit, watching her under the bathroom's pale lighting. He ran his hand over her knee while she sat with what he shared. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t told her before; it was just hard for her to accept at times. These feelings she had for him were intimidating and still pretty new.

Finally looking over at him, he had a soft, patient smile, and she brought her hand to his cheek.

"You got me feeling crazy and that scares me."

He gripped her hand on his face and pulled her close to him. The water surrounding them splashed slightly as he moved her onto his lap, never straying from her focus.

"God, I fucking love you, and I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to make you the happiest woman alive. You're stuck with me until you no longer want me."

Goddamn it, she was in it now.

"Then I guess I’m stuck with ya."

Chris pulled her into a searing kiss. One filled with hope, opportunity, and love.

But, of course, it was short-lived. Chris had made her show him how to set up different ringtones on his newly bought iPhone. Recently, she came to find out he'd paid $1.29 to buy her score's theme song on iTunes and set it to play every time he got a call.

"I think that's your phone."

"Fuck that thing." He was lost in her, moving his lips down to her neck and slowly beginning to suck on the sweet spot below her jaw. Sucking in a quick breath as his teeth skimmed her wet nipple.

"Chris." They were already pushing it with having her here; she didn’t want to get him into any trouble even if she was the invited intrusion to his press tour.

"Stay here." He kissed her tits, making his way out of the tub. She giggled at hearing him angrily grumble under his breath, forcefully grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist.

Perching her jaw on the edge of the tub, she watched as Chris pulled his phone out of his discarded suit pocket.

"Hey man, what’s up?"

It was a couple moments of silence, with Chris listening to the person on the other end of the line.

"Um…" He bit at the pad of his thumb, sparing a glance in her direction. She looked at him with a pointed brow, curious about what he seemed to be contemplating.

"Yeah, we can meet you in the lobby at eight."

We? As in him and her?

As he ended the call, she waited for him to come back to the bathroom. He sat on the edge of the tub and let out a sigh as he took in the sight of her wet, bare body.

"Welp, my plans to fuck you in this very spacious tub are going to have to be postponed. We’ve got other plans tonight."

"Plans?"

"Hugh Grant has requested that we both join him and his wife for dinner."

The restaurant was very busy. She wasn’t as taken aback by the mass of people since Chris forewarned her on the drive over about how in high demand the place was.

"There will probably be a couple paparazzi and fans outside after dinner when news gets out that we are all here. So just make sure you just stay close to me, baby." Chris had switched into a tan linen jacket and matching pants. He kept the white undershirt, and his golden pendant necklace was in its usual place in the middle of his chest.

The Le Labo cologne she watched him spray on his wrists still lingered on his skin.

Along with the expensive wine, her fluffy blue sweater was keeping her warm. Chris would slyly slide his hand underneath its seams, gently holding her wrist while his thumb rubbed slow circles over her pulse.

She was nervous as fuck.

No matter how many famous people she finds herself around, her palms got slightly sweaty in their company. Her Mom was going to have a cow when she saw the texts she’d sent her. And the voice message she’d nervously word vomited into during her trip to the bathroom.

Chris said Hugh was a tad pretentious, his dry humor not helping in the slightest with some feeling slightly offended by the seasoned actor at first.

She thinks she got on his good side when he asked if she’d ever seen any of his movies.

"Oh, for sure. Florence Foster Jenkins— I watched that on a flight with my Mom. She teared up, and she didn’t even do that while giving birth to my younger brother." She wanted to crawl into a hole after her failed attempt at being cheeky, wincing slightly in embarrassment. But he and his wife both laughed, and that was before the waiter had even taken their orders.

"It’s so fun doing these little press junkets because you completely forget about the movie you’ve worked on since it was damn near a year ago. But you get to reconnect with all these people you spent months working your bum off with. Even recall some of the wacky events that occurred." Hugh wiggled his eyebrows as he looked at everyone around the table. She noted Hugh’s quirky vocabulary got more eccentric after each sip of his glass of merlot.

"Now, darling." They'd just gotten their meals, and so far she’d been successful in not being the topic of conversation. She was content to be a fly on the wall, watching as Chris interacted with his coworker. Instinctually, she sat up straighter as everyone fixated on her.

"First, congratulations are most certainly in order. Chris here has expressed much interest in your work; dare I say he has gone as far as to show a few of us videos of you composing?"

Hugh’s admission was shocking; she was ready to go into great depth on her career and why the hell she might even be there.

She’d only met a few of Chris close friends and vice versa, wanting to keep a level of privacy in their relationship that very few people got access to. It was better that way for the both of them. Some reasons being more obvious than others.

However, ever since the first set of pictures with them came out, more and more were published in the press. With the amount of time they spent together it was inevitable. She’d noticed how Chris was now more inclined to share her with people outside their circle. He was less withholding of PDA, not that he was really trying before.

He wants people to know she’s his.

That thought sparked something deep in her chest, accompanied by a warm feeling in between her legs. In some sick way, she liked him establishing this claim on her. Because, at the end of the day, it was her allowing him to do so. If she displayed any sort of disdain for the situation and expressed it, she knew he’d stop in a heartbeat.

"I’ve just got to know how this talented young lady came to be."

She cleared her throat and glanced over at Chris, whose undivided attention was completely on her. The dim lighting added to the facade of intimacy, and the busting room filled with chatter from other patrons conversations. But hell, they might as well have been the only two people in the room.

"I, uh, grew up in New York. My mom's an adjunct professor at NYU but volunteers when she can. My Dad’s owned this bakery like a block from where I grew up since before I was born. They really wanted to push my brothers and me to follow our passions just as long as we could make a suitable living doing so." She giggled to herself at that. "Never, uh, was really that good in school, but music stuck pretty naturally. I learned how to play like fourteen instruments by the time I was twelve."

"Oh my, so you were a prodigy?" Anna, Hugh’s wife, expressed. The couple looking at her impressed.

"I guess so? Never got tested or nothing. Just recorded some music and samples on my parents iMac and uploaded them online. It’s pretty much how I got discovered."

She feels a hand squeeze her upper thigh, looking over at Chris, who was gazing at her in admiration. She sheepishly smiled back before looking down at her plate.

"Well, I for one think that should qualify as a prodigy, especially for being nominated for such a prestigious award so early in your career." Anna smiled at the younger woman, and she replied with a soft but appreciative thank you.

The topic flows easily throughout the remainder of the evening, and just as Hugh and Chris finished arguing about who’d fit the bill (Hugh did), they began talking about plans for tomorrow.

"Oh, you're going to love the movie, dear; it’s a heap of fun." Hugh exclaimed, looking between her and his wife.

"Yeah, it looks great. Can’t wait to see it." She'd already ordered a couple tickets in advance to see it opening weekend back in LA. Few of her friends excited to see her hot, daddy boyfriend in action.

Their words, not hers.

"Now I don’t know where you plan on sitting, but you're more than welcome to join Anna and me."

"Huh?" She was confused, looking over to Chris, whose jaw had clenched as he slowly finished his wine.

"Well, at the preimere, it'll be so bus-"

"I hadn’t really had a chance to bring it up, Hugh." He placed his glass down while glaring at the man across from him.

"Oh." Hugh looked nervously at the young woman and back to his wife before letting out a guilty chuckle and saying, "Silly me."

Anna quickly began to change the subject allowing her to try and connect the dots. Departing goodbyes and future plans were made as they all made their way out of the restaurant. Following Anna towards the exit, with Chris close behind her, she whispered behind her shoulder.

"Chris?" She knew he’d understand what she was asking, but she didn't really love being out of the loop.

"Let’s get you outside to the car first, Sweets, then we'll talk."

As soon as the doors opened, multiple camera flashes started blinding her.

She'll say one thing about being in the music industry: she wasn't a stranger to crowds or people. Yet it still made her slightly uncomfortable when strangers invaded her personal space. She pulled her Prada sunglasses out her purse and slid them over her eyes. Instinctively grabbing Chris’s hand as he guided her to their car. The chauffeur was already standing outside holding the door, and she gave him a quick thanks in appreciation while quickly getting in the back seat.

Once it was quiet, with only the sound of soft German music imitating from the radio, she allowed herself to slip off her sunglasses.

Chris was already looking at her; he’d slid his hand across the middle seat to rest it on her upper thigh.

"Good?" His eyes held a bit of worry.

She nodded. "Good." Then her eyes became daggers. "Now, what the fuck is going on tomorrow?"

"I wanted to ask you tonight after dinner. No photo ops, no red carpet. You’ll ride with Sarah and me to the theater. I'll do my rounds and then join you both for the screening."

Her head was spinning. A million thoughts raced to the front of her mind. The first one that left her mouth was the least important.

"I-I don’t even have anything to wear."

"Baby girl, you're telling me you don’t have one outfit?" He cocked a brow towards her, and she groaned. Of course she did; she’s an overpacker, and with Chris’s classic spontaneity, she always made sure she was prepared for anything. Still, she wasn’t able to just pull out a custom gown from her ass.

"No photos or press?

He barked out a laugh, bringing her hand to his lips to give it a warm kiss. He knew he had won her over.

"Just want you by my side, scouts honor."

She wanted to scoot over the middle console to be closer to him, but the little wine left in her system wasn’t enough to cloud her judgment to do so, and she didn’t want the driver to be uncomfortable.

"You owe me big time. Like huge, just FYI."

He brought up two fingers and gestured for her to lean in closer to him. Chris softly cupped her jaw and angled her head so he could whisper in her ear.

"I hope you got enough rest on that plane. We’ve got a long night ahead of us."

When Chris fucked her, she could only successfully compare it to a premeditated game of chess. Always seeming to know how he, the knight, would take down his opponent.

He held back from touching her the entire ride back to the hotel. Minimal words were shared between the couple as they let the tension speak for itself. Her skin was cold; goosebumps were visible, and in the elevator, she stuffed her hand in her pockets to prevent reaching out towards him.

He needed to make the first move.

It wasn’t until she took a seat on the plush sofa that he knelt down in front of her. Eyes gazing up as if she’d built the entire world around them all her own.

"Will you let me undress you?"

"Please."

His touch was like a live wire while his hands ever so gently gripped her left ankle, undoing her heels clasp. It took everything in her to hold back a whimper.

Once he’d discarded her other shoe, he pushed up her pants leg till it bunched at her knee. Slowly following an invisible trail up her now exposed leg with his rose-colored lips. They were tinted a dark shade from the wine, and an embarrassingly loud whine left her lips as his tongue slowly dragged up her calf.

It quickly turned into a yelp as the man’s teeth nipped at her shin. "Keep those eyes on me." Chris always required her attention, knowing how often her mind wonders.

"Yo-you got it."

A smile appeared. Rewarding her with a lick over the nicked skin and sweetening it with another kiss

They both watched his hands let the pants leg fall, dragging them over the fabric that covered her thighs as he reached for the button of her pants.

"I know you said I owe you, and trust me, this isn’t me cashing that in. I’ve just been craving your fucking pussy since California."

It wasn’t anything she didn’t already know. Chris was a pleaser; he got easily riled up just by knowing he was the only person who could ever make her feel this good. He'd told her himself.

Nodding her head with fervor, she aided in helping him take off her pants, wiggling her hips off the couch as the garment fell to her ankles along with her pink panties. An obvious patch of arousal was on the crotch. "You always takin’ good care of me."

He hummed in agreement, but his focus had gone to her cunt. Slowly, he raised her legs to rest on his shoulders; her pants wrapped around her ankles, trapping him in between her thighs. Delving into her, the man raised an expectant hand to her lips. She knew exactly what he wanted her to do, and as soon as his broad tongue dragged against her slit, she shoved his middle and ring fingers into her mouth.

A groan escaped him right as his mouth dragged along her clit, the stimulation causing her to slightly drool on his fingers.

"No wine in the world can compare to how goddamn good you taste." Chris other hand squeezed her hip where it rested, locking eyes with his lust-blown pupils. She could confidently claim that no one had ever looked at her like this until him. That no one has ever made her feel like this. It seemed so foreign yet so familiar, like meeting a totally stranger and instantly hitting it off.

Eating out someone like this should be considered a war crime. It seemed irrational that Chris could delve into her like a starving man when they just had dinner. How he lapped at her bundle of nerves like it was a bountiful oasis after traveling miles through treacherous terrain.

His tongue caught on the edge of her entrance, and a sharp "Fuck!" left her lips. His fingers slipped from her mouth, soaked with her saliva. The hand resting on her hip punished her with a quick slap. Her head fell back further into the couch, taking all of her energy not to close her eyes.

"Language."

Being from the city meant she had a mouth on her. It was ingrained in her DNA, and it was something Chris always loved about her. But in the bedroom, good girls never curse.

"Sorry." He accepted her apology by rewarding her with a kiss on her thigh.

One hand gripped the top of his head while the other gripped the decorative pillows next to her. She was so focused on how he was making her feel that he used it to his advantage, slipping two fingers slicked with her spit inside her.

"Oh my god!" He went slow, pushing his fingers all the way to the last knuckle until he even attempted to curl his fingers inside her.

"Do you miss having my fingers inside you, baby girl? Know how hard it is for you to reach this deep." Chris tapped at her g-spot, and a high-pitched yelp left her mouth.

Her eyelids kept fluttering as they both watched his fingers move in and out of her. His thumb was coming up to her clit and she knew If she bit her lip any harder, she’d draw blood.

Chris slowly rose to his knees to rest his upper body against hers, his half-lidded eyes looking down at her. She didn’t even recall him fully taking her pants off until he gently nudged her left leg to rest her foot on the couch, bending it. The new position let him finger her even deeper, and fuck, if she wasn’t wet now, she was gushing.

"I think you can take three fingers, Sweets. Wanna try for three?"

She might be too far gone to confirm if the wet spot on the crotch of his pants was real or not, but she didn’t question the feeling of him bucking his hips against her right leg and the sofa. Just as he was adding his third finger to the mix, it was enough to send her over the edge.

Immediately, a flash of white filled her vision as her eyes rolled in the back of her head. A long moan leaving her lips while Chris worked her through her orgasm.

"There you go."

He kept fingering her until she opened her eyes and looked back at him. She had a wide smile across her face, and Chris mirrored it, placing a long kiss on her forehead.

"I haven’t come that hard in so long." Giggles escaped her, and she knew the high from cumming was still flowing through her. "Well, at least since you left me all alone."

Chris hands started pulling at her sweater to take it off of her. She hadn’t worn a bra under it; the sweater was so oversized and fluffy that it wasn’t even noticeable.

"Oh? Well, maybe I’ll have to show you how to do it right then, huh?" He was kissing all over her cheeks, slowly making his way down her neck. "Make sure you don’t suffer for too long while I’m away." Mumbling into her skin.

"Don’t think I could ever make myself feel this good."

He nipped her collarbone and faced her, their noses almost touching.

"Damn straight." Capturing her lips in a kiss, she began pulling at the back of his jacket to undress him. Chris quickly caught on and stood before her to start stripping. Pulling her legs on the couch, she bit the tip of her thumb to help suppress her smile at the show.

His solid upper body, rippled with pure muscle crafted by numerous hours spent in the gym, had her hypnotized. As Chris stood up to undo his trousers, he couldn’t contain a smug grin. Looking down at her debauched figure, slightly vibrating in anticipation, did a number on the older man.

Just waiting within arm's reach was his exposed cock. It was bigger than anyone she’d ever taken, and her first time she had to cum twice from him stretching her out until he finally fucked her. It was long, and its width something that never failed to take her aback. Whenever she rubbed him off, she couldn't even fit her full fist around him.

"Let me take you to the bedroom you deserve a good fuck."

Tipping her chin to flick her gaze at him, he scoupped her naked body up into his arms. A squeal rang throughout the suite, legs wrapping around his slender waist. Arms around his neck as he cupped her ass. She took advantage of him guiding them safely to the bed, fingers dragging through his hair as a content sigh released out of her nose.

Placing her in the center of the bed, the Egyptian cotton petted her skin. Chris body pressed against hers, and she embraced how he basically engulfed her. Body weight making her sink deeper into the white comforter.

"I’ll give you the world and then some, baby. Just tell me what you want me to do."

Giant hands cradled her head, and carnivorous eyes bore into her soul.

"Need you to make love to me."

From the tips of her fingers to the bottoms of her feet, the feeling of being so fucking saturated in one another was indescribable.

An infinite kiss, in which lips contently rested on top of one another, sealed the deal.

Toned thighs moved to spread hers apart, positioning her instinctively. A distracting slip of his tongue into her mouth, simultaneous with his cock shoving into her cunt. Her mind went blank, a haze washing over her as her mouth fell open in a silent scream.

"Shit." The swear came from deep within him. Chris forehead pressed against hers as their noses bumped into one another. His breath was warm, and the air around her was hot as it grew thick with the smell of sex.

Gripping her cheek tightly, squeezing until her lips puckered open. He let out a deep groan, obviously enjoying the view. Well, that and the way he tried to be subtly with a shallow thrust to her g spot.

"Do you believe me now?" He was referring back to their conversation earlier in the tub.

"How I feel about you?"

"What your very fucking-" She had to close her eyes as her body was completely engulfed in all of him. The faint feeling of his hand traveling down to the back of her neck, tightly cupping it. Tightening his hold on the back of her neck, forcing her head to hit the goose feathered pillow. "existence does to me?"

Her eyes snapped open when his pelvis casually dragged against her clit after a deep thrust.

"Yes! Fu-god, I get it!"

When they locked eyes, she felt a twitch in Chris’s left leg. The one resting against her right thigh.

"Good."

It was swift. His hand gripped her waist as he flipped her on her stomach. A wide hand slapped against her chest to flush her back against his firm chest.

Thighs resting on thighs, with both of them on their knees, she was positioned comfortably on his lap. Another hand was resting on her hipbone holding it up to prevent her from sinking down on him. Spit-soaked lips pressed right on the shell of her ear.

"Now I can fuck you how you deserve."

They groaned in unison once Chris finally let them reconnect. Hand once on her waist, traveling down to rub her clit as she grinds her ass against his pelvis to try and accommodate him inside her again.

It was a slow tempo, pushing deep into her from behind so she could really feel him. All of him. He’d moved the hand on her chest to rest on her neck. Fingers dancing around the bare planes of her collarbone

"I think I need to get you a pretty little necklace." Thrust. "Make sure everyone knows who fucking cunt this is. " Thrust. "Get something for you to play with when I can’t get my cock in your mouth." Two fingers turned into three to slap at her clit.

"I’m-" She hiccuped while trying to blabber out the rest of her sentence. A dark chuckle warm on her ear. "I’m def-initely gonna cum."

"Baby’s got manners tonight, huh?" A quick slap to the side of her ass almost had her whine out but he returned his hand to her clit to continue. "Now are you asking me or telling me?"

Nibbling her ear, she could feel the stutters of his thrust beginning. He was close. Touch more desperate and harsh against her skin than the last buck of his hips.

"Asking!"

He forced them to remain still, with no movement except his fingers abusing her clit and his dick pulsing inside her. Even the city around them grew silent, waiting.

"Go ahead and cum for me then."

Each orgasm Chris gave her was never the same, but they all made her feel nothing less than euphoric. It reminded her of a hot summer day, finishing off a blunt while relaxing in the sun. All the stress and anxiety that filled her washing away, similar to the silk dripping down his dick.

"There you go. Fuck there, you fucking go, baby girl." And whenever he came inside her, god she felt limitless. No experience in the world could be shared between two souls could equal this primal connection.

Her head had fallen against his shoulder, enjoying the electrical currents of ecstasy traveling through her as his hips continued to push his cum into her.

Kisses traveled up and down her sweaty skin as Chris shoved his face into her neck. He was humming out a breath subconsciously to a random tune while soaking in the moment.

What came next was always the worst part. The inevitable of him having to pull out of her. Both of them groan while he lifts her off his softening dick to tuck her in the bed.

"Thank you." It was the first thing said as they basked in the aftermath of their lovemaking. He had her tucked under his arm, arms and legs intertwined. He kissed her temple whispering the words like a secret.

"Feel like I should be the one sayin’ that." Lips grazed her skin as he nodded his head no at her claim.

The moon was seeping through the curtains, painting their naked skin a blue hue. She doesn’t know if she’s seen or felt something so beautiful. So filled with warmth and passion.

"I fuckin’ love you." It was the first time she had said it first. Always relying on confirmation from him whenever they exchange vows.

Chris smile was brighter than the top of the Berliner Fernsehturm. Eyes sparkling. He immersed her in his hold, shoving her face into his chest, almost shielding her from anything that could penetrate their bubble.

"And I love you."

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