It was getting too intense. They should stop. He should stop. She should stop.

But she's not sure she wants to. He has her pressed back against the wall, his slender fingers manipulating her nipple, pinching, stroking, circling . . . It was exquisitely unbearable. And the worst thing was that he kept whispering into her ear over and over, "I love you, Amanda. I love you."

"Dominick . . . " She finds that she can't finish the sentence she had wanted to start. Especially when his hand reaches up to cup her cheek as he pulls back to look at her. She almost whimpers at how gentle he is.

"Yes?" he says softly, his blue eyes happily dancing before hers.

"We . . . I . . . "

Oh how did they get here?

"I love you," he had said to her. Just casually in the middle of a Thursday.

They had stopped by his place to pick something up on the way back to the precinct.

"What?" she stammered.

"You heard me."

"But . . . ?"

"I do."

"Just like that?"

"What do you mean 'just like that?' It's not 'just like that.' Amanda, I've felt this way for a while now – and you know it. I just thought it was time to actually say something." He shrugs.

"Why now?"

"I don't really know. It just seemed like the right thing to say. Do you have anything to say?"

She looks down.

"Nothing?" He doesn't sound upset, sad, or anything by her lack of response – just curious. She can't help but think that this man is amazing.

"We . . . I . . . "

Still pressed against that wall, she struggles with what to say as his fingers run down her neck from her chin. While he waits for her to speak his hand strays between her breasts and down her ribcage, ever so softly, ever so slowly . . . eventually finding its way over her stomach. He's still waiting but she doesn't continue.

His delicate fingers find their way beneath her waist band. And then . . .

There.

She takes in a sharp breath.

"Yeah?" he asks. She notices how pronounced his accent is in that moment and wonders why she's even thinking about that.

She gives up her plan of even trying to protest because now she just wants more of him. Actually all of him.

So she nods.

He smiles tenderly as his fingers slowly find their way deep inside of her, locking her in his gaze all the way. They are so long.

But she can't take it for long and closes her eyes, blocking out the fire burning in his.

After he moves inside of her for a while, her eyelids fly open and she finally finds her voice. "Oh my god, it's too . . . oh . . ."

"Yeah?" There's that accent again.

"Intense. Oh my god it's too much."

With his fingers still inside her his thumb settles . . . There. She gasps. "You want me to stop?"

"No, no! God no!"

She can't believe it, how it came on so quickly, but it has.

"Please don't stop. Not now." She whimpers and her eyes squeeze tightly shut. It is starting.

He doesn't stop, only keeps his thumb there firmly as she pulses around his fingers, her breath catching as she holds back a cry of pleasure. And his fingers stay deep inside her, caressing her as she finds her way back down and her body relaxes, slumping against the wall.

He leans into her and holds her in place. Securely.

Thanks to SarahInColour for the beta on this . . . especially the push to add more physical details of their encounter, which ironically morphed this into a piece more about overall intimacy than anything else.

Also, thanks to my besite CatBru who helped me figure out how to add more physical detail in a section that I found difficult to get through.

Love you guys!