A/N: Just a forewarning, those seeking serious plot should go elsewhere. This is just fluff/sexyness. However, if it grows a plot midway through, thats all the plot bunnies fault.

She lay there, in her four poster bed, and let her mind wander. She grew so warm around him, every room she was in and he followed her in rose in temperature. His face came to the front of her mind and she sighed. When he smiled she felt her knees grow weak. She couldn't be around him too long and remain coherent.

When he looked at her, gave a crooked grin and his blue green eyes twinkled, she was a goner.

She shifted on the top of her silk sheets; she finally threw her book down in frustration.

Reading these ridiculous historical romances, with their nonstop swooning and wooing, shirtless hunks and bashful damsels were making her sick.

All she could think of now was him shirtless. Standing in front of her, smiling his devastating smile, her knees buckling, his strong arms catching her. His warm calloused hands caressing her arms, slowly coming up to cup her face, as he leaned in to kiss her breathless.

She writhed around and her sheets twisted about her feet. The cool breeze from the window went unnoticed as she worked her hands from touching her t-shirt clad breasts to her stomach, shamelessly pushing her shirt up to at last touch her bare skin.

She shivered, not from the breeze the window afforded, but from the fantasy of if it were 'his' hands slowly gently caressing her stomach, and inner thighs, slowly yet teasingly avoiding the burning ache where she needed his touch most. When she finally reached down, she felt her own wetness lubricating her folds. She mewled and moved her fingers in small circles, slowly undressing him in her mind. The image of him lowering his black boxers. Stepping closer to her, whispering in his husky voice, "Like what you see love?" She gasped and moved her fingers faster. As he came up behind her in her mind's eye, she writhed on the bed again, her fingers slowing and speeding up as he reached out to trace her hips, then his hands finally touched her and she felt his arousal poke her behind gently as a silk coated steel rod and he added his other hand, speeding up, and she fell over the edge, gasping and moaning and kept pace, riding out her orgasm.

She finally stopped, and her hand stilled, and she lay still, her heart still racing.

Ariadne's eyes snapped open. She sat up and winced, sunshine was streaming through the blinds of her hotel room. She glanced over at the bedside clock, 9:30am.

She heard a groan, and a deep rumbling chuckle. She looked over to see another queen bed, and a large lump whom she guessed to be Eames, judging by the clothes on and falling off the edge of the bed.

"Holy crap what happened last night?" She finally voiced her haphazard thoughts.

A/N: My first inception fanfic...be gentle plz. And its also going to be my favorite Non/Canon pairing. heh. R/R