It was a sight he'd never get used to and never get tired of.

She was just laying there in his bed, sprawled out on her stomach with the sheets very conveniently covering all the right places. He knew she was out cold—she usually was, when she was in this position. He could leap up on the bed and start doing a jig next to her—erm, his—pillow, and she would merely look up at him, narrow her eyes sleepily, and then go back to sleep.

He knew, because he'd done it before.

Instead of his jig tonight, though, he decided he'd join her. She had the most delightful smell—it was her soap, maybe, or her shampoo. Then again, as he'd yet to actually discover the source, he could just assume that it was a smell her body produced naturally, to attract other males. It just so happened to be particularly effective when it came to Time Lords. He toed his shoes off and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt before joining her. He lay on his side, propping his head up with one arm as he studied her. With his free hand, he traced soft patterns on her soft skin, grinning as his fingers trailed over the small spots that dotted her back and shoulders. Freckles, she called them. The perfect word for such things.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her skin. After a moment's hesitation, he let his tongue slide out from between his teeth to run gently across one of those freckles, to taste her. He pulled back, still grinning. His touch seemed to have roused her, as she stretched slowly and comfortably, before turning onto her side to face him. He couldn't help it—his eyes trailed down the line of her elegant neck, to her shoulder, to... She caught him and pulled the sheet up to cover herself before he could see anything else. He raised his eyes to meet hers, and reached up to caress her cheek.

"Miss Tyler, I do believe you're blushing," he teased gently. "It's not as though I've never seen you, love."

She wrinkled her nose at him, but he could see that telltale smile on her lips. "It's that look you get," she said, stretching yet again, though she did hold the sheet in place with one hand. "Like…you're some sort of hungry wolf or something and you just want to…eat me up." He raised his eyebrows with a short laugh, and Rose realized what she'd said. She rolled her eyes, blushing yet again.

"If you really want me to, I certainly have no objections," the Doctor said, smirking at her as he rose. He pushed her onto her back and lowered his mouth to the sheet covering her so he could slowly drag it off with his teeth. He positioned himself on top of her and could feel her shiver slightly, in anticipation. "Cold?" he asked innocently, brushing his fingertips over the pale swells of her breasts. She made a face at him, and he laughed, leaning down to catch her lips in a gentle kiss before trailing kissed down her neck. He took one nipple in his mouth, sucking gently. She arched her back, trying to get closer, and he had no problem with accommodating her—he slipped his hand under her back to pull her up to him, now biting gently, knowingly. He heard her sharp, pleasured intake of breath, and let go of her, to catch her eyes again. Her eyes were even darker now than usual…it was wonderful. Sometimes he still couldn't believe this was happening. "You're beautiful, Rose Tyler…did you know that?"

Rose laughed and he could swear her cheeks were going pink again. "Come on, Doctor," she said, pushing lightly and ineffectively against his chest. "If you keep saying stuff like that, I'm going to get a complex or something, and then I'll just be unbearable to live with." She ran her fingers through his hair, tugging ever-so-gently. His eyes slid closed—sometimes she would laugh at him, tease him about how much he liked to be petted like this. He didn't mind. After a moment, he remembered that they'd been talking, and opened his eyes again, leaning down yet again to slant his lips across hers.

Several hours later, Rose had slipped off again, into that realm of sleep that the Doctor so often missed out on. It didn't bother him too much, as if he slept, he couldn't lay here and watch her sleep. His hand was resting lightly on the curve of her hip, squeezing gently every now and again as it hit him that she was his. She sighed softly and turned onto her other side, so that she was facing him, and nestled sleepily under his chin. The Doctor's eyes slid closed peacefully, though not sleepily, and he breathe in the smell of her hair, absently noting for the hundredth time that night that…she smelled very nice.