Disclaimer: I own nothing.

WARNING: Mature Content.

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Flesh slapped against flesh as both roughly pushed against each other, intent on shedding the pain and stress of the day. A bed or even a lounge was the furthest thought in their minds as he slammed the door shut and pressed her against the wall nearby, the length of his body holding her in place.

His hands weren't gentle as they ran down her side.

Her blouse was long gone as was his shirt – both ripped off the minute they had stepped into her apartment – though somehow he had managed to retain his vest. Both were breathing heavily as his hands found the zipper of her pants. He bit the side of her neck and she hissed in response, running her nails over his back.

He didn't care about the pain.

Her pants slithered to the floor of their own volition and he reached down to grasp her upper thighs as he guided her legs to wrap around his waist. She was still wearing her no-nonsense work shoes and the matching underwear.

Not for much longer.

Bringing his head down, he captured a nipple in his mouth through the material of her bra, biting down harshly as she threw her head back against the wall and buried her hands in his hair. She pulled tightly on his strands when he switched breasts.

His arousal was straining against his pants when he lifted his head and ran his hand around her back to unclasp her bra. Somewhere at the back of his mind applauded him for still retaining the skill as he discarded the garment, but he was swiftly drawn back to the present when the dexterous fingers of the woman he still held had somehow managed to slip between them and unzip his pants.

He couldn't stop the involuntary jerking of his hips when her small hand found its target.

Taking control once again he swooped down and kissed her, their tongues duelling in the warm depths as neither were willing to concede defeat. He shifted to rid himself of his pants and the obstruction they posed as his hands drifted south and ripped off her panties in one go. He wasted no time and thrust up into her, every inch of him gripped in her warm, wet tunnel.

The resounding groan that followed as her nails dug into his back once again was deeply gratifying.

There was no time for romance or sweet love and neither was in the mood for it. He grasped her hips firmly and tilted them slightly toward him for a different angle that was immensely pleasing to them both as he buried his face into the crook of her neck.

No words were spoken as he frantically upped the pace and his thrusts grew erratic. Determined that she would have her release before him, one hand slid to where their bodies came together and rubbed against the bundle of nerves there. She tightened around him as her breath hitched, her nails dug in and her hips jerked. She was verbal in encouraging him on.

It was almost the end of him.

Gripping her buttocks, he pushed his body fully against her – his naked sweaty chest sliding against hers – as they both neared their peak. And then suddenly they were there. She screamed her release as he thrust hard and deep and shattered.

There was silence as they both slowly came back to reality; the only sounds that could be heard were the equally heavy breaths of the two people leaning tightly against the wall.

He raised his head from her shoulder and brought his face up to hers as he slid from within her. She slid down his form ever so slowly, still intent on staying in contact with him. No words were spoken as he brushed the matted hair from her forehead and looked into her glittering eyes. He held the gaze as he bracketed her cheek and leaned down to kiss her, pouring all his emotions into it: the hunger, the hurt, the pain, the stress, the comfort and a host of other emotions that he was not willing to face at this moment.

She didn't object.

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Next Chapter: The morning after.