He went from playful and giddy to desperate, demanding. And it happened suddenly, in a way that could have been terrifying on any other man than Cal Lightman. But she knew the depth of his intensity could be fathomless in the midst of something that drove him, something that encompassed him. And she'd never before had the confidence (in him, in herself, in them together) to really admit that there wasn't much else (besides his daughter and work) that drove or motivated him quite so much as she did. That alone was empowering, strong and steady. That alone made her hazy, woozy and put heat through her lungs, into her stomach and thighs. That alone distracted her as he ditched clothing and propriety and any embarrassment either of them could have felt with quick movements and rough hands.

But then, didn't hurt that he was excellent with those hands and mouth and, Jesus Christ, he'd gotten her to come in minutes just with little whispers between her legs and a knack for knowing just where to touch and when and how.

And how in the hell could he know her so quickly, so insanely well?

Her reactions, her body, each hitch in her breath.

How in the hell could she ever have imagined he wouldn't?

"I'm sorry."

Gill sucked down a strong breath to tame her lungs, both palms skidding up his cheeks to force him to look at her as he leaned back up and over the now open shirt and the sweat that was forming along her throat. "Stop telling me you're sorry."

"I mean b'cause this isn't gonna last long, darling," he groaned up under her ear, lowered his mouth to her throat and let his teeth mark on fair skin. "Feel like a bloody fifteen year old."

"Isn't that a good thing?" she laughed out, enjoying how possessively he curled the flat of his palm onto the back of her thigh and tugged her leg higher on his hip.

His beard rashed her red wherever his teeth hadn't and she whimpered as he jerked her hips up, teasing his length against her, intentionally driving his hips up and forward to slide against wetness. The groan that laid out of his lungs and onto his lips made the skin tingle up her neck and the back of her hairline, shivering her pleasantly under him. He made the movement again, lifting his head in response the whimper she gave off, a smile that seemed, at once, both adoring and predatory on his lips. His weight went to his side and she felt him reach between them, pinning her leg high up against him as his hand went between her legs. The smile he was giving her went melting on a groan as he dragged the tip of his length against her clit and brought them both to a sort of simultaneous shivering. Hers was all in the hips and his tensed his shoulders so tightly she figured he'd ache from it throughout Thanksgiving dinner.

He was coiled up hard under her stroking hands, keeping himself surprisingly pent and controlled, despite the fact she could feel the bandy strength of him up under flushed and heated skin.

"Just don't judge me too harshly on the duration, eh? Least not this time."

She turned her lips onto his cheek and sighed, keeping her voice light and warm, "You gonna shut up, Lightman?"

He'd been begging at the beginning and giddy in between. He'd gone through sweet and even gentlemanly (making sure she'd gotten off before he'd even really gotten started?). It was desperate, nearly. When he made a humming sound in his throat, not even daring to voice the question but pleading it between them. He made that pliant sound against the corner of her smile and when she nodded he groaned a kiss against her lips and pushed into her at once.

She knew she was done in to him then. When he clutched her up close and made such a welled sound of relief and happiness and pleasure from the base of his lungs.

"One more question?" His voice was choked up and guttered deep, accent mumbling up the words as he tried to swallow air into his chest and, God, he felt good. Just as she'd expected and still somehow better, somehow more, somehow... right. Somehow she knew that regardless of how long it lasted, this was Epic's End, story told. "Not dreamin', Gill, am I?"

She pinched at his hip in answer, quickly and with tight fingers and a wicked smile.

"Oi!" The surprise in his voice went strangled up and choked and halfway between pain and lust as he caught her hand up and locked it between them, gripping on her fingers before kissing her chastely. "What's that for?"

She just smiled wider, letting him pin her beneath him while he very blatantly studied her face. He had that stupid cocky grin of his on his lips, the one that said his happiness was undiluted, full strength and full of mischief. "You're not dreaming."

That smile went more loving than she'd expected. "Home now, yeah?"

She turned her head and kissed his ear, felt his hair brush tickling on her nose before she drove her face into his neck and moaned, letting him drive deeper into her as she wrapped tighter around tensed shoulders. "Yes."

Yes.

"Okay."

Okay. More than okay. More than all right.

Home was the moment and not the place. Home was them, this.

Home was something that lived under the skin, she thought.