Disclaimer: It would be nice, but I don't own The Blacklist or any of its characters.

Author's note: This chapter is pretty much nothing more than gratuitous smut. If that bothers you, please move along. I'm tremendously appreciative of all the reviews I've gotten so far. They fuel me to write much more than I otherwise would. *LOURDES* I'm sorry about the long wait for this. I hope it's good enough to be worth the wait

Chapter 5

Lizzie had once considered herself a night person. She seldom falls asleep before midnight, and usually much later. She doesn't wake before nine without an alarm clock. Waking much earlier for work is a drudgery she slogs her way through miserably, just because she has to. She accepts that, somehow. It's what "responsible adults" do.

That was before she fell in love with Red. He closes his eyes as the sun starts to rise, and not a minute sooner. Even after their midnight marathon love-making sessions, it was only Liz who found herself sleepy. Red would lie with her until she fell asleep, but she'd often wake at 4 AM to find the bed empty. The first time it happened, Liz was immediately terror-stricken. She worried that someone had taken him, and that Dembe was dead downstairs. She bolted upright, immediately wide-awake, and ran down the hall to Dembe's room. Dembe barely stirred from his sleep when she ran in, panting.

Finding Dembe wasn't enough to allay her fears. Her next stop was the kitchen, but he wasn't there. She stood still then, just listening, ears straining to pick up even the slightest of sounds. The faint tinkling of ice in a glass tumbler floated inside through an open window. Red was out on the balcony, staring out into nothing, with a half-empty tumbler of scotch and a cigar.

That was almost two months ago. Now, if she happens to wake, she always knows where to find him. They never stay at a safe house or hotel without a private balcony. Even knowing about his nocturnal nature, she still gets up to set eyes on him, every single time. She can't fall back sleep otherwise. Sometimes, she joins him. Other times, she doesn't, sensing his need to be alone.

Lizzie understands that need. After enough time passes, loneliness can gradually morph into a guilty pleasure. Once loneliness is deeply settled into one's heart, while being obligatorially surrounded by people during the workday, a person may come to crave being alone. The company of others can start to feel like a chore- unpleasant and immeasurably taxing.

But now, here she is with Red, 24/7. "Alone time" had become normal for him. It stayed that way for two decades. Surely he missed being alone. He hated to brood in Lizzie's presence, and yet he needed to brood just the same.

No matter where they travel, Red's body automatically resets itself to sleep at sunrise. It's almost as if he's perpetually jet-lagged. He laughed mirthlessly when Lizzie told him that, but he didn't disagree.

He certainly had a lot to brood over. Lizzie knew that. Chasing blacklisters wasn't without risk, and not just for himself, but for Lizzie and Dembe too. Luli's fate could have easily been theirs as well. Add to the danger the real reason that he was doing it all, to get answers about that fateful Christmas eve, and insomnia becomes more than probable. It's inevitable. Sometimes Lizzie's worry for Red even keeps her awake, and while she's never told him so, she suspects that he already knows. That's one more reason to brood.

The next morning, after their romp in the sauna, Liz woke to find him actually in bed with her, seemingly fast asleep. Briefly she battled her desire for him, opting to let him get some much-needed shut-eye, but his eyelids fluttered open when she rolled over to put her arm around his waist. Red grabbed her hand before she could slide it up to his chest. Then he let it go, leaving her hand on his lower belly, and while he didn't move to direct her further, Lizzie knew what he wanted.

"You still want your turn?" He asked sleepily, his breath hot in her ear.

She only nodded as she slowly inched her hand lower.

The first time Red invited her into his bedroom, Lizzie was surprised to learn that he slept completely nude. She had pictured him (faaar too many times) sleeping in high quality, expensive pajama sets- the nightwear equivalent of an Ermenegildo Zegna suit. "Nope! If I'm in bed, it's naked time," Red practically sang in mock defiance. He then implored Lizzie to give it a try, but she's still holding off on that. The man wasn't exactly an expert on effective sleep rituals. For now, she's happy with her yoga pants and matching camisoles.

With their respective lower halves hidden beneath a thin blanket, Lizzie blindly navigated his body by memory. While lightly combing her fingers through the soft hair on his lower belly, she meant to come torturously close to his lengthening arousal. It wasn't her intent to touch him there yet, but Red rolled his hips the slightest bit toward her, sighing when her knuckles grazed against him.

"Raymond, that was dirty and unfair. I thought it was my turn," she scolded, quickly withdrawing her hand.

"Hmmmm Lizzie... You call that dirty?" He regarded her briefly, his eyebrows arched, just before plunging forward to sink his teeth into her left breast. Without the camisole, he would have broken her skin. Liz could only gasp in reply, at a loss for words.

"Ah, yes. Now we're getting closer," he said with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Jokes on you, Red. I like pleasure spiked with pain." A brief laugh snuck past her lips as she narrowed her eyes at him.

Red shook his head. "Oh my god, Lizzie. Tell me you didn't just quote Red Hot Chili Peppers during foreplay.

"Sorry, Amanda. I couldn't think of any appropriate Sting lyrics," she quipped, baiting him. Nothing gets him hard as quickly as some light antagonism, but Lizzie decided to stop there. Coyly she asked, "So, would you say the same? Do you also like a bit of pain?"

"I could say so, yes, but with certain qualifications." Ambiguous responses seemed to be engrained in Red's DNA.

"I understand that you want me to ask you to elaborate. It gives you a sense of having the upper hand, for knowing something that I don't. Well, that's just too bad, because I won't do it."

Whoops. So much for not antagonizing him.

With that, in one fluid motion, she swung one leg over him and grasped his nipples to pull herself up on top, straddling his waist. He sharply inhaled from the surprisingly sudden jolt of pain. "Does that fit into your little list of qualifiers?" she practically purred.

"Well, it didn't, but now, I suppose I could make enough room for it."

Lizzie tried to stir up some disdain. "That works for me. What an eloquent and diplomatic kiss on my ass, Red." Hovering above him to avoid grazing his erection, she leaned forward and slowly, sensually mouthed his sore chest, one nipple at a time, humming in delight, the gentle vibrations radiating tiny pulses of pleasure that seemed to echo and multiply in his blood.

Red groaned, "You're killing me, Elizabeth."

"You're so formal when you're horny," Lizzie observed aloud.

"That's inaccurate. I am ALWAYS horny. I am however, not always formal." What an awkward time for him to ramble for the sake of distraction.

"Ah. It seems that makes two of us, then." She captured his lips and hastily forced his mouth open with her tongue. Red closed his eyes and moaned into her mouth as she mercifully relaxed her thighs, allowing them to slowly slide outward. When she finally brushed against him, Lizzie's legs buckled and refused to support her. She collapsed on top of him, her hips reflexively rolling as she balanced most of her weight on her center.

She swatted Red's hands away when he tried to pull her more tightly against him. "Ohhh no you don't. It's MY turn." She could barely speak the words. He was actually doing what she craved, but she was stubbornly unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seizing control.

Liz quickly realized that she lacked the self-control to maintain such a painstakingly slow pace. She took a deep breath and whispered into his ear, "Can I take a raincheck on my turn? I don't think I can properly draw this out. I need you inside of me. I need you now."

Red couldn't have refused her demand if he tried, though he did not.

After indulgingly grinding against him for another minute, Lizzie finally found the strenth to push herself up and crawl backwards, raking her fingers down his torso as she went. She took him in her hand, drawing immense pleasure just from stroking him, feeling the physical proof of how badly he wanted her. She reveled in the throaty sound of Red's catching breath.

She wrapped her lips around the tip, pausing to briefly suck before plunging her mouth downward. She slightly struggled not to scrape her teeth against him, applying pressure with her tongue as she slowly pulled back, only to repeat the motion twice more.

Red's toes and fingers curled as he reflexively bucked upward, trying to press more deeply into the back of her throat. He moaned. "I didn't think this was what you meant about me being inside of you, although I technically am. Please don't take that as a complaint, because it isn't. Your mouth is exceptionally skilled."

She reached for his hands and squeezed them as he slid out of her mouth the final time.

"You're right." She crawled back up to his chest and started placing hot, wet kisses up and down the length of his neck, humming. Red moaned when she pushed herself back onto her haunches, grinding against him. She quickly pulled the camisole over her head and threw it across the room.

Red took that as his cue to take over. He growled and deftly rolled over, taking Lizzie with him, pressing her shoulders into the mattress. He latched onto one of her breasts while reaching to slide her panties down. He moved onto the other breast while she used her feet to kick them off entirely.

He settled on top of Lizzie, slowly sliding and grinding himself against her. She shuddered at the contact.

"Please, Red. I need you," she pleaded, her hips bucking, demanding more.

Finally, he began to ease himself inside of her. Lizzie lifted her hips in a bid to take in more.

"Oh no, sweetheart," he chided as he slid back out.

"RED!" she shouted in desperation.

He lowered his lips to Lizzie's in an attempt to comfort her. As he deepened the kiss, he began to press inside of her again. When he was only halfway in, Red shuddered and groaned. He steadied himself and took several deep breaths, concerned that he might be unable to last.

Lizzie knew how to make him lose control. She squeezed herself around him, causing him to roughly plunge forward, fully submerging himself. He pressed tightly against her without withdrawing, his weight bearing down to grind against Lizzie's most sensitive spot.

She squeezed tightly, sensitive enough to feel the blood pulsing through his swollen veins. Red throbbed and groaned, fighting the urge to violently move in and out. She wasn't making it easy for him.

He eased himself out and pressed back in. Gradually, they settled into a steady rhythm. Lizzie raked her nails down his back, scraping into the skin, coaxing him to increase the pace.

"Oh my god, Lizzie," Red huskily exalted. "Are you close? I need you to be close. I need you to let go and come with me, and I have to do it inside of you. Please, Lizzie."

Lizzie was nearing the cliff's edge, and Red's voice alone was almost enough to make her snap. "Yes! I need that! HARDER, RED."

She grabbed his ass, pulling him tightly against her with every thrust, lifting her hips and squeezing around him. Lizzie sank her teeth into his shoulder as she began to soar, and Red quickly followed suit, trembling above her, his thrusts ragged and erratic.

Red slid out and rolled Lizzie to her side. Spooning, he held her tightly and whispered a stream of barely-coherent adoration.

"So, Red, what else should we do today?" Lizzie asked.

"I'm happy to do whatever you want to do, especially if you'd like to do this again."

"Well, I'm not really sure... Let's start with a shower," she replied.

She didn't have to ask twice.