It was dark now, and raining profusely. He remembered her at the funeral, the way she had seemed to be collapsing into herself. He had wanted nothing more than to cradle her in his arms, to soothe her pain, but he was helpless. The eyes of the crowd had held him back. He could not comfort her under the heavy blue gaze of Tess, so he left her leaning into Maria as she sobbed. The reproach in Liz's eyes kept him from speaking at all. He had waited, knowing somehow that Liz would find him when she needed him most.

Now that night had descended, she was there, her slim body a dark line outside of his water-streaked window. He crossed the room and had it open before he even fully realized he was awake. Then Liz was in his arms, her tears warm as they fell against his chest. He held her and rocked her like a child, pretending she was one to supress his sudden awareness of her body against his, soft and fragrant from the rain. He soothed her as best he could, surprised when she tilted up her face to kiss him even as he expected the touch of her mouth.

Her lips were soft, damp. She tasted of rain and tears as he licked into her mouth. He never intended for the kiss to become complex. But suddenly Liz was clinging to him as if drowning, her hands clenching on his arms, then threading through his hair as she moved closer. The flavor of her was too much for him to resist.

Their need for each other fueled their desperation. In short minutes they were grappling with her clothes, his hands reaching under her shirt to caress her, to help her tug the soft cotton over her head. Her pants were dropped to the floor. Then his lips were everywhere, sampling the silk and nectar of her body, exploring her as he had so longed to do. She arched and moaned under him, and he left a trail of kisses down her throat and over the smooth slope of her belly.

Then it was Liz's fingers curling around the band of his boxers, tugging them over the jut of him. Her hands were nearly reverent against him, and he could not contain his groan, his shudder. She stroked him, and then he looked down at her as she licked his flat male nipple and touched him. He cried out, helpless, and his mouth found hers in a duel of need. Then he was pushing her back against the rumpled sheets, less than gentle, urgent with need.

When he surged into her and she let out her small sound of pain, it was he who cried, his tears hot as they splashed against her breasts. "Shh, baby, shh," he murmured, his hands tender on her skin. He moved into her slowly, letting her learn his body as he did hers, taut with his effort for control. Each tiny sound she made burned through him. Finally, the feel of her body around him, wet and hot, drove him into madness. He lost himself in her, both wild with desire, and her moans turned to near screams as he thrust into her, her legs tangled about his waist as she arched to meet him.