Author's note: The night after the first two parts. This is dirty, kids. Because that's just who I am. See disclaimer in first part.

Shoutout to Ayn91- thanks for the message and encouragement. Let me know how you like this one.

The night has come to a close, your hands tangled together, your fingers locked firm within each other's grasp, the booze from the Penny still lingering on both your lips. You can feel your stomach clench, your heart lurch at the thought of saying goodbye to her- goodbye after the day, the night you've shared. And the idea of her- going home and curling up into cold sheets, absent from your combined warmth and sweat and longing- it settles deep into your stomach like a stone and you realize that if there is anything you'll ever truly aspire to do, it is to make this woman beside you never want to leave, never want to settle anywhere else in the evenings than in the shadow of your arms, the warming comfort of your bed.

So you invite her in with the pretense of a nightcap but see in her eyes that she is only playing along with this idea, this facade that you have invented.

She wants you, you know, just like you want her.

And then you're both safe inside, the door clicking softly signaling its closure, your coats hung neatly on the hook together, when you notice that her eyes keep catching on your lips and then your tongue is sneaking out to slowly snake over them, wanting to see the way that- yes, there it was- the dilation of her pupils, the immediate sinking of her eyelids as they adjust for the haze, the glaze all of a sudden present in her incredible blue eyes.

You bite your bottom lip in return, marvel as it elicits a small, minuscule, really- moan from her throat.

Glance your eyes down her body, taking care to linger on your favorite parts of her- skating down her breasts, steering around the curves and valleys of her hips and ass, and finally traveling down long, shapely legs.

Tiny little experiments. You are a scientist, after all. And Gail Peck is nothing if not a fascinating test subject.

You take a confident step toward her and watch as she bites her own lip to suppress a smirk and matches your move, inching her body closer to yours.

You feel your heart pulse and lurch in your chest, the blood thrumming through your veins and making the tips of your fingers, the flesh of your palms, tingle and throb with the need to touch her.

And then all thoughts of games and experiments leave your skull and then it's nothing but two bodies crashing into one another as you both rush to close the gap, her hands immediately winding around your neck, tangling hard into your hair as your arms circle her hips, squeeze her ass, retreat and pull her body hard into yours.

Her lips are moving quickly over yours- once, twice, before her tongue is sweeping into your mouth and flicking maddeningly over your own tongue and just as you go to reciprocate the action, she retreats, trading her tongue for her teeth, using them to pull on your bottom lip.

Your head is dizzy, your heart, your soul and your body just absolutely aching and wanting her, wanting what you know is about to come.

She begins to take control of you, of this frenzied embrace, and then you can feel her momentum, feel the weight of her as she pushes you back until you're falling, your heart in your stomach, falling until you feel a soft surface break it and it's only then that you realize-

That you realize that you've stumbled into your favorite chair in the house- plush and deep, the arms even with your head, the back of it looming over you.

You process the information quickly- you have to, because then she's crawling on

top of you, her legs on either side of your own, her body rising up and over yours, her breasts enticingly level with your mouth. She breathes your name suddenly and your eyes break free from the glorious sight in front of them only to behold her face- so fucking gorgeous and so soft but wanting- and you crane your neck and stretch as far as you possibly fucking can because you need to kiss her, need to capture and claim and call those lips yours once more. But all she does is smile and tease, biting your lips and licking to soothe the sting and the frustration her actions leave there.

It's only when you place a hand on her hip and finally, finally manage to sink a hand into her long blonde hair that you manage to tangle those lips with yours, managing to rise up and press the full length of your own lips against hers, brushing your tongue with hers, wrapping it around hers when her hips cant once, twice, a moan ripping straight out of her chest.

And then she's reaching up underneath the hem of her own shirt and peeling it over her shoulders and Jesus Christ you've seen this sight so many times over the past few days but it doesn't change how utterly breath taking she is, all bare breasts and pale skin and wanting eyes and you can do nothing but detach your lips from her ruby wanting ones and meet her nipple with your tongue, taking one into your mouth while palming the other, and you can feel the heat of her against your stomach, grasping semblance of friction and you don't know what you did in your past life- maybe you were a fucking Pope or something- but this moment- all wrapped up in thrusting hips and heavy breathing- you know it's more than you could have ever hoped to deserve.

She brings her hands around to fist hard in your hair, holding you to her as you lave attention on her nipples alternatively, taking one in your mouth, flicking your tongue over the tip before abandoning it and going to the other. The sounds she's making- all guttural moans and indecipherable attempts at words-light a flame low in your belly, causing your hips to take on a rhythm of their very own, grinding up to meet hers.

A mewl of discontentment leaves your own lips as the motion simply causes frustration instead of satisfaction, your hips rocking still, fleeting surges of pleasure giving way to primal need.

Need to touch her, need to be touched. The need to have her name ripping from your lips when you come. It's all too much but too little at the same time and you rip your lips away from her stiff nipples with a growl, separating from her only long enough to rip your own shirt and bra from your body before reattaching your lips to the pulse point on her neck, cursing when she scratches her nails down your bare back in response.

You bite her neck just underneath her ear, soothe the sting with your tongue, and begin to speak, the words ringing out into the heavy air around you.

"I want- I want to be inside you, I want to- God, I want to make you come, Gail. "

The words are barely out of your mouth before she's untangling herself from you, standing on unsteady feet, somehow bracing herself as she haphazardly discards her pants and underwear. You begin to bark out a laugh at her haste but it turns into a strangled groan when she drops back down into your lap, her now bare legs once more warming the skin of your thighs.

She drops her hands on to the back of the chair, digs her hips hard down into your own and bites down hard on the lobe of your ear before soothing it with a long swipe of her tongue, breathing needy, dripping words into your ear.

"Jesus, Hol. Do it if you're going to do it. I've been fucking drenched for you since we sat down for- umph!"

And you can't take it anymore, your fingers circling her entrance before thrusting two inside of her, delighting in the sudden intake of breath, the harsh squeeze of her eyelids, the biting curses leaving her lips.

You thrust up as she cants down, her head thrown back, nostrils wide, lips trapped between white teeth. She rolls her hips in time with your thrusts as she takes what she needs from you- clamps, sinks down, rolls her hips, rises up and then repeats.

"Jesus fuck, yes," she's panting, her eyes screwed shut as she chases your fingers, legs clenching, body sinking with every thrust into her body. You move your thumb so it brushes over her clit with every pass, lose a fight against the grin that's forming on your lips when she changes her pace to take advantage of the contact.

And then her hands are in your hair and her mouth is sucking, biting at your neck and you can tell she's so close to coming just by the breathy sounds she's making against your ear and then- then she's muttering the most filthy things- how you feel inside of her- how she loves the way you fuck her- and begging and you can't help yourself as your hands detach themselves and she's shouting her protest and grinding down upon you even more but then- then you're shifting her hips up and wetting your lips with your tongue, bringing her to stand over your face, the complaints suddenly disappearing as your intentions become clear, the gasp of arousal, surprise echoing throughout the room.

Your hands grasp either side of her hips and guide her down to your waiting, smirking mouth. You feel the curse before you hear it, the words spilling out of her mouth as her hips sink, your tongue peeking out to meet the swollen skin of her clit. And then she's moaning and gasping hard, her hips rolling and your tongue flicking and then, even though you can barely breathe through her movements, you bring your fingers to hook up and into her and she's thrusting into your mouth as you're pumping your fingers and she's gasping your name and you can't take it anymore, your digits curling into the roughness of her and then she's screaming your name, wet against your tongue and nose, her hips a wild frenzy, your mouth aching.

It takes a moment for her orgasm to fade out, her hips rolling into the aftermath, your hands and mouth unwilling to let her end with only one orgasm- just one spill of expletives upon her thoroughly abused lips.

And it's only moments after, when she's drawn herself down to become flush against your body, wanton and somehow still moving after all you've put upon her, that you can feel the pulsing, beating need between your own legs. It's only after her need is sated that you even register the burning that she elicits with her palm that snakes between your bodies.

You'd deny it if it didn't feel so good- your previous plan of making her come until she couldn't take it anymore suddenly out the window- and feel the rhythm of your hips as they rise up to meet her greedy hands.

The fabric of your trousers bunches in her hands as she tries to discard it. It's only a little awkward as she pulls them and your underwear down then scrapes her nails down the inside of your thighs, smiling at the stuttered hiss that leaves your lips. But then- then, it's all closed eyes and shaky gasps as she becomes enamored with the idea of returning your favor and she's kneeling in front of you and her tongue is skirting the trail from the back of your entrance to the very tip of your clit and her fingers are doing the most delicious things-

And you still can't wrap your head around the fact that Gail fucking Peck ia kneeling between your legs, working her tongue against you, and fucking hell, muttering how all she's thought about all day is tasting you and making you come with her tongue and fingers-

And goddammit if this isn't the hottest, the most ready you can ever remember being. You don't last long- the world crumbling around you as she adds two and then three of her fingers into the mix and refuses to break eye contact, staring up at you while she deliberately flicks her tongue against your clit before sucking the bud into eager, kiss swollen lips.

You close your eyes and grasp her head to you, your hips bucking up, dots of many colors forming behind your lids as she keeps moving, keeps going until your orgasm tips into a second and- holy shit- a close but heady third. You vaguely feel her crawl up and over you, blanketing her body over yours and burying her head in the crook of your neck, placing, soft but wet kisses along the skin she finds there in between greedy puffs of air she tries to pull into her aching lungs.

It takes a moment before you regain your faculties but when you do, your arms move to wrap around her and stroke the warm, smooth skin of her back, scrape down the gently defined bones of her ribs, delighting in the gasp.

"Goddammit," she hisses, her hips moving down once more, "I'm not sure I'm going to survive you, Stewart. Not when all I can seem do when we're together lately is fuck you senseless."

A chuckle leaves your lips followed by another brush of your hand, this time followed by the deliberate press of your palm against a pebbled nipple.

"And get fucked senseless right back. That's important to note."

A gasp as you give in and take the neglected twin's nipple into your mouth, sucking once, twice, three times- fuck, until she gasping and grinding her hips down into yours once more.

"Very important to note," she's nodding, voice breathy, lip trapped between teeth, eyes closed against the onslaught.

And then you're lost once more in the rock and the rhythm, one thought resounding in your skull as she's gasping your name and coming on your fingers.

If this is going to kill you both, you're sure as hell going to be happy with the way you go out.

Thanks for reading and let me know what you think. Thanks.

Whit