Disclaimer: Characters and setting belong to CBS and the CSI:NY creative team; the plot belongs to me.

A/N: As requested by a few reviewers. A huge thanks to marialisa for the beta and the support – grazie, bella!

I Do

They stumbled through the door, his hand already cupping a breast, her mouth already seeking out the pulse at his throat, heat already building deep in their bellies. On the dance floor, in the cab, they had been circumspect, not wanting to draw any teasing attention. But when they got to the hotel, when they stepped into the empty elevator, the heat that had been building suddenly exploded, and all the promise of the long day, weeks of planning and preparation finally pushed them into each other's arms, trying desperately to assuage the hunger.

She heard the zipper on her dress, felt the cool air hit her heated skin before his hands swept down her naked back to cup her roundness, barely covered by silk. She sighed as his hand, surprisingly large, pulled her against him. Tux jacket and shirt were pushed to the ground, and she stepped back, leaving her dress in a puddle on the floor, looking around her to find the bed. His eyes darkened at the sight of her, naked but for the scrap of blue silk, high heels accentuating long legs. She bent down to undo and kick off the shoes, only stopping when he growled, "Leave them."

She hooked one finger in the thin strap of her panties riding high on her hip, and struck a pose, her eyes gleaming darkly. "So, Detective, you like what you see? Or do you need to examine the evidence a little more closely? Because I think I may need to do a more thorough job here."

She stepped closer to him again, a smile hovering on her lips as she ran her hands up his arms, over his chest, then down his flat belly to rest on his hips. His skin quivered under her fingertips and she licked her top lip slowly, eyes locked on his.

He reached out and ran a finger over the swell of one breast, pausing a moment on the nipple which puckered under his touch. She caught her breath as he moved his hand to the other breast, then leaned forward and touched her with his tongue.

She shuddered with longing, and ran her hands through the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close. He moved with her the few steps to the bed, and gently pushed her down, groaning when she reached out to help him finish undressing. When he was naked, he ran a hand down her leg, and undid the buckle on one shoe, kissing her instep as she shivered again. He followed the trail of his finger with his tongue, back up to her knee, then down the other leg to remove the other shoe, his fingers performing quick magic on what she had to privately admit were aching feet.

She begged when he stopped just short of pulling off her underwear with his teeth, begged for release from the need boiling inside her, the tension that stretched her muscles taut, nearly bowing her backwards. As he kissed and nipped his way back up her body, she could feel the waves of pleasure rocking her. He arrived at her mouth again and she opened to him eagerly. When he finally reached between their bodies and began to caress her, she came with a rush that surprised and nearly embarrassed her, calling out his name in a moan that had him biting his lip, eyes nearly black with desire.

He soothed and gentled her, easing her back down from the peak before driving her up and over again, this time with tongue and teeth, determined to watch her lose control, hand it over to him.

"Please… please… I need you now, please… I need you inside me now." She was whimpering, craving the feel of him, the filling of the empty space in her.

"Open your eyes. I want to watch you," his voice was hoarse and tense, and he pulled her hands over her head, clenching them in his as he pushed into her tight wet heat. "Oh fuck me, you feel so good. God, you feel amazing." He continued to talk, a constant stream of throaty, worshipful profanities as he pulled nearly all the way out of her, then stroked back firmly, again and again until she couldn't feel her body at all; she was completely lost in the burning light of sensation he produced in her.

She was watching when his eyes went blind, his face sharp and intent, and she was watching when he threw back his head and groaned as he emptied himself into her. And she was watching when he took her breast in his mouth and drove her to her own cascading climax, screaming his name.

They lay in a tangled heap, breathing becoming synchronized as they spiraled down from the heights. Her long dark curls were spread over his chest, and he ran his hand through them gently. She could not stop her hands from exploring him, going again and again to the ridged scar on his abdomen.

"So, tell me why Danny and Lindsay didn't use this room after planning it two weeks ago?" she said idly, not really caring about the answer, just wanting to hear him talk, to feel connected.

"Danny got a call from the airline; tomorrow's flight for Italy was cancelled, but the airline was holding seats for them on tonight's flight. So he tossed me the key and asked me to clear out the room. Last job on the best man's list."

She pushed herself up on his chest, resting her chin on her crossed arms. "Before or after nailing the maid of honour?"

He ran a finger gently down her cheek, "Not nailing. Making love to. Top of the list of life-long aspirations."

She had to swallow a lump in her throat, tried to keep it light, "And when did you plan this?"

He smiled at her, "Plan? Never. Hope for? December 18, 1999. I thought Santa had come early when I saw you for the first time in my precinct."

She grinned back, running a hand over his cheekbone, "Do you rehearse those lines?"

"Do they work?" he shot back.

She moved against him voluptuously, purring, "They could." She slid over him, capturing his bottom lip between her teeth, and then soothing the sting with her tongue. He pulled her closer, his hands stroking her long, lean back. She moaned a little as she felt his arousal stir against him.

She rose up, straddling him, her green eyes shining in the dim light like a cat's. "You know, doing this job, I often wish I were a man, because it would make so many things easier." She ran an exploring thumb over his lips, stilling his automatic protest at the very idea, then bent over him to feast on his mouth until he could hardly see straight. Her tongue found his earlobe and she whispered low, "But then I remember that women get to have multiple orgasms!"

He laughed out loud, and flipped her onto her back. "So, do you, Stella Bonasera," his tongue trailed down her throat to the hollow between her breasts, and looked up at her mischievously, "need a little help with that?" His hand, which had slipped lower yet, began to explore her.

She answered on a groan, her hands fisting in the bed sheets, "I do."