Matt woke slowly, rising from a dreamless sleep, feeling rested and more content than he had in a long time.

He could put it down to the solid eight hours of sleep he'd just had, or the comfort of the mattress he lay on, or the fact that he was on vacation and doing little more than relaxing all day and all night...

But he suspected it was mostly thanks to the woman next to him.

He never slept better than when Calina was by his side.

Calina reached out and rubbed her thumb over his dimple, matched the smile he only just realised was stretching across his face. "You look happy," she commented.

Matt shrugged. "It's Christmas morning. Aren't I allowed to be happy?"

"Even though we have no tree, no presents and—" he sensed her glance over her shoulder and out the window "—no snow to play in?"

He kissed her shoulder and stroked his hand over her hip. "I have you naked in bed. Who needs snow and presents?"

"You're insatiable, Matt Murdock."

He smiled against her skin as he kissed his way up her neck. "Just making up for lost time."

She arched her head back, giving him more room. "That should be my line."

"Hmmm, you're right." He flicked his tongue against the skin behind her ear, tasting her tattoo. Then he took her earlobe between his teeth, biting down gently. She was right - he was insatiable. He couldn't seem to get enough of her. Kissing her. Touching her. Being inside her. Making her come. They'd just never really had the chance to be like this before. In New York, they'd had stolen moments together, snatched from the city that vied for his attention, from his work, from her responsibilities to the Widows, from the dangers that followed them both...

Out here, nothing needed to be stolen. They'd been gifted instead, with endless hours of uninterrupted time.

And they were making the most of it.

"So how about lady's choice this time around," he continued, kissing along her jaw. He swept his hand up her body to cup her breast, and she gasped as he teased her nipple into a hard point.

"Huh?"

He smiled at her distracted tone. "We'll do whatever you want. Make one of your fantasies come true."

"I- I don't have any fantasies."

He pulled back from her in surprise. "Really? None?"

"Well, I mean, nothing specific. Like, uh, role play, or with, you know...toys..or anything." The word 'toys' was uttered in an embarrassed whisper, and Matt could feel the heat of her blush radiating off her cheeks. "I never thought of sex as something fun like that, before we got together," she continued. "And when we were together, I was happy just being with you. I know that's boring, but—"

"Hey, it's not boring. Sex between us is never boring, Callie. I was just saying that if there was something more you wanted, something different, I'd give it to you."

"What about you?"

"Me? Well..." Matt ran his hands slowly down her arms, and closed them around her slender wrists. Then he yanked her arms up and over her head, pinning them in place, wrenching a shocked gasp from her throat. "I've always liked the idea of you cuffed to my bed frame, stretched out, and at my mercy."

Calina licked her lips. He scented a pulse of arousal at her core as she clenched her thighs together. "That- that sounds good," she said, her voice low and husky. "But we don't have any handcuffs here."

"We also have nowhere to attach them." He rapped his knuckles against the solid wood headboard.

Calina tipped her head back to look at it. "Oh."

There was a world of disappointment in that little sound, and it made Matt smile. "Something to explore at a later date," he said. "In the meantime...lady's choice."

"Um, okay," she said. She seemed to think about it for a few seconds, before sliding her hand into his hair. "Kiss me."

"As you wish," he murmured, bending down to capture her lips.

He kissed her like it was a mission. Like his only purpose in life was to worship at her lips. For long minutes he devoted himself to the task, until she pulled away with a gasp. "That was good," she panted. "Now lie on your back."

He smiled at the commanding tone, and obeyed, settling back on the mattress next to her, his hands tucked beneath his head.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Stay just like that."

Matt kept smiling as Calina touched him. She traced over his scars, glided fingers over muscles, licked trails along his bones. She painted his body with her touch like it was a canvas, slowly but surely ratcheting up his desire until he was hard and throbbing for her.

"Is this your fantasy?" he panted. "To have me at your mercy - begging and desperate?"

"Maybe," she said, sliding down his body, inching closer and closer to where he was desperate for relief. "Or maybe I just want to touch you."

"I'm not complaining."

"Hmmm, but if you're still capable of using three-syllable words, I'm not doing my job right."

He groaned as she dipped her head, her hair lightly brushing against the sensitive tip of his shaft. He felt her breath, the warm air caressing him, as she hovered in place. Teasing him. Drawing out the anticipation...

His hips bucked at the first touch of her tongue. "Sorry."

He felt her smile as she backed away and kissed his hip. "Don't be. I like you a little out of control."

Matt laughed, but the noise was choked off as her tongue returned. And when she took him in her mouth he had to grip the top of the headboard to stop from grabbing fistfuls of her hair and thrusting into that wet heat.

Calina might like him a little out of control, but he was at risk of losing it completely. And he wasn't sure she was up for that right now. In the past, sex had sometimes gotten a little wild and rough between them. But the last few days - since they'd reconnected - he'd sensed a tentativeness about her. A hesitancy - almost a shyness - when it came to sex.

Maybe it was just that she'd gone without it so long; or maybe she was worried that her emotions would go haywire; whatever the reason, she'd seemed content to let him take the lead and set the pace.

Until now.

Now she was in charge. She was leading this little dance of theirs...and she seemed to be enjoying it almost as much as he was.

"Fuck," he hissed, as she took him deep. "Feels so good."

Her lips tightened around him and she bobbed her head, the suction driving him crazy. He felt his orgasm build, his muscles tensing. He tossed his head back, mouth open, gulping down air. He was almost there—

She stopped.

The warmth of her mouth was suddenly gone as she sat back on her heels. "Wha-?" he gasped, no longer capable of one-syllable words, let alone three. The cooler air of the room hit the wet skin of his shaft, and the sensation nearly pushed him over the edge. But then she fit her hand around his cock and squeezed, just below the head. The pressure cut off his climax, and he panted as his body gradually came down from the peak.

"I want you inside me," she said, releasing him slowly. Her voice was firm and calm, but he could hear how fast her heart was beating. He could scent her arousal - it filled the room, thick and heady. And when she straddled his waist, he could feel the trembling of her thighs.

She was just as turned on as he was.

He released his hold on the headboard and brought his arms down, his hands landing on her waist, wanting to hold her as she rode him.

"Uh-uh," she chastised, grabbing him by the wrists. She lifted his hands off her, leaned over and pressed them to the pillow either side of his head. "Keep them there."

He felt her strength as she pinned him in place - so different from the Calina of before. It made him want to spar with her. Made him want to wrestle with her, and feel the strength of her in other ways.

But not as much as he wanted to be inside her right now.

So he relaxed...and submitted.

"Good," she said, moving one hand to his chest. She braced herself there as she lifted her lower body and used her free hand to guide him inside. She took him in slowly. So slowly, until it felt like an eternity passed before she was seated to the hilt. 

She paused there, unmoving, and let out a shuddering breath. Then she shifted her pelvis, adjusting to him. That small twisting motion made Matt's eyes roll back. "God, sweetheart," he groaned. "Please move."

She waited another few moments before granting his wish. She lifted off him slowly...and came down, equally as slowly. She set an excruciatingly deliberate pace, each gradual - almost lazy - descent against him capped by that little swivel of her hips.

It drove him crazy. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms, as he fought the urge to grab her hips and thrust up into her. "Please, Callie," he begged.

"What do you need?" she replied, her voice breathy and strained, as if she was torturing herself as much as him.

"More. Faster, harder, something."

She made him wait a little longer...but then she gave him both. Her tempo increased, and she came down on him harder, squeezing around him every time she did that goddam, maddening twist of her hips. She leaned back, sitting upright, as she moved on him. One of her hands trailed down her body towards where they were joined. He sensed the movement of that hand, then felt her knuckles brush against him as she started touching herself.

"Let me," he said, desperate to get his hands on her. He brought one down, reaching for her again, but she grabbed it instead, lacing their fingers together. She used the hold for leverage, increasing the strength of her movements as she rode him.

Matt's climax built again, stronger than before. He clenched Calina's hand in his, and couldn't stop his hips from tilting up to meet her every time she bottomed out. He groaned at the increased sensation...but even through the haze of his lust, he started to realise something was wrong with Calina.

Her rhythm...faltered. The hand between her legs moved faster, but he could sense she wasn't close to where she wanted to be. She started to move on him with an air of desperation, her forehead creased and her jaw clenched...and through it all she was silent. The little noises from before - the whimpers in the back of her throat, the guttural moans - they were all gone.

And then...a hint of that foreign, intrusive scent emerged from beneath her arousal and the heady fragrance of her skin. The scent that heralded a shift in her emotions.

"Callie, baby, you still with me?" he panted.

The response was more silence. He squeezed her hand...but she didn't squeeze back. Instead, she used the handhold to rotate their arms over, and wrench his wrist at a painful angle. And he knew then that she was losing herself to whatever malignant emotion was trying to take her over. She was losing control...

So he took it back.

He bucked his hips and twisted, flipping them over so he was on top. The sudden move broke her hold on his arm, and he quickly took advantage, capturing both her wrists in one hand and pinning them above her head. He thrust into her sharply as he called out to her. "Callie!"

The only response was a growl under her breath. She writhed beneath him, still caught up in the anger or the frustration, or whatever the hell it was that she was experiencing.

He needed to snap her out of it. To remind her of where she was. Who she was, and what she was meant to be feeling in this moment. So he hitched her leg over his waist and brought his hand down against the side of her ass. Hard.

The sharp crack rang out in the room. Calina froze beneath him, and for a moment Matt thought he'd made a terrible miscalculation. But then she gasped. "Matt?"

"Yeah," he breathed. "You back with me?"

"I- I think so."

"Where are we, sweetheart?" he asked, his hand massaging the area he'd just spanked.

"In bed. In the chalet."

"Good," he said. He released his grip on her wrists and she immediately wound her arms around his neck, as if needing to hold onto him. He turned his head to kiss the soft skin of her inner elbow. "What are we doing?"

"We're making love."

"Yeah?" He rocked his hips against hers gently. "Can you feel me inside you?"

She tightened her leg around his waist. "Yes."

He pulled back and thrust into her harder. "You feel me filling you up?"

"Uh-huh," she groaned.

"Does it feel good?"

"Yeah."

"Good. That's my girl. Just feel that. Nothing else. There's nothing else in the world right now. Just me, inside you."

He hooked his arm beneath her leg and moved it from his waist to his shoulder. He hitched her other leg onto his other shoulder, and leaned over her, bending her almost in two. He thrust again and she moaned, a deep, throaty, wonderful noise. He knew she loved this position - how deep he could go, how every slide in and out rubbed against that sensitive spot inside her. How all she need was that stimulation, and the pressure of his pelvis against her clit, to find her release.

He kept up a fast, hard pace, ramping up her desire. And all the while he talked to her, grounding her, reminding her. "Just you and me, Callie. It's just you and me, here, in this moment. Nothing else matters. It's just us. You and me. And I love you."

"Love you, too," she gasped, arching her head back.

"Good. Good girl. Are you gonna come now? While I'm fucking you like this?"

She nodded her head.

"I need to hear you, sweetheart. Talk to me."

"Yes. I'm close. I'm so close—" she choked the words out, barely finishing before he felt her shatter around him. She dug her nails into his back and gasped, her every muscle going rigid as she came.

And he couldn't hold his own climax back. He groaned as he followed her, his orgasm intense and powerful after being denied for so long. He had the presence of mind to lift her legs from his shoulders, then he collapsed on top of her. "I'll move in a sec," he slurred, knowing he was too heavy, knowing he'd have to clean them both up. But he just wanted to feel her flushed, slick skin against his for a moment.

She seemed to want that too. Her arms closed around him, holding him tight. "No," she protested. "Stay for a bit. I wanna feel your weight."

Unable to resist, he relaxed against her, one leg between hers, his head tucked against her neck. He inhaled her scent, and sensed nothing but the pure and intoxicating fragrance of Calina, with no worrying base notes, no hints of an impending mood shift.

If anything, she seemed blissfully content, humming under her breath as she lazily sifted her fingers through his hair.

Matt smiled, and closed his eyes, feeling pretty damn content himself.

———

The contentment didn't last.

In fact, Matt's discontent grew over the course of the day - along with his guilt. As he and Calina showered together, as they ate lunch, as they walked along the lakeshore with Nika, he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened while they'd been having sex.

And what he'd done.

As they curled up on the sofa in front of the fire, he knew he had to say something. "Calina?"

"Hmm?" she replied, nuzzling her head against his shoulder.

"We need to talk about what happened this morning."

She stilled. "Do we? It all turned out okay."

"I need to know that I did the right thing."

She lifted her head, and he could feel her studying his profile. One of her hands came up to cup his cheek and turn his head towards her. "Of course you did. You managed to snap me out of one of my episodes - no one's been able to do that before."

"Yeah, but I did it by...hitting you, essentially."

She laughed. "You smacked my ass during sex. It's not like you punched me in the face."

When he didn't join in her laughter, she sat up and shifted on the couch until she faced him. "Have you been worrying about this all day?"

He nodded.

"I wish I had your abilities," she sighed. "You always seem to know what I'm thinking and feeling. I wish I could do the same for you, and stop you from beating yourself up when you did nothing wrong. I should be the one apologising for almost ruining the moment."

"It wasn't your fault, Calina. You didn't have control over your actions - but I did. And it's not just the fact that I slapped you—"

"Smacked," she corrected. "Spanked, even."

Matt raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to argue semantics with a lawyer?"

"I think the terminology is pertinent to this discussion, Counsellor."

He gave her a small smile. "Regardless of the terminology, it's not really about that. It's the fact that I was still inside you at the time. Were you even capable of consenting to sex in that moment—"

She sat up quickly and slapped her hand over his mouth, cutting him off. "Don't even go there, Matt. The emotions might not feel like they belong to me, but it's still me. And I consented to everything."

"But you weren't in control of yourself!" he repeated. He pulled away from her and got to his feet, pacing the small strip of floor between the sofa and the fireplace.

Calina's voice was maddeningly calm as she responded. "We've fought each other before, Matt. In practice, and for real. Remember?"

"Of course I do."

"Was I fighting you this morning?"

Matt pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "No."

"Do you think if I didn't want to be in that bed - at any point - you'd have been able to keep me there with just your hand around my wrists and your dick inside me?"

He flinched at the crude wording - not used to hearing that from Calina - but he knew she was just trying to make a point.

And it was a good one. "No," he conceded.

"As for the smack on the ass," she continued, in that same reasonable tone. "It didn't even hurt. It was just...unexpected. It jolted me out of my head, the same way a bucket of cold water to the face would. Then you grounded me - letting me know what was real and true, instead of what my fucked-up brain was telling me. It was exactly what I needed, Matt."

Matt frowned. "What was your brain telling you?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I just remember feeling a little frustrated. Then I started to spiral into anger. It doesn't always make sense, why I feel certain things. There's not always an obvious trigger or an explanation."

"You weren't feeling pressured? I know I kind of forced you into the fantasy thing—"

"There was no forcing, Matt! It was fun!" She shook her head as she stared up at him. "God, that catholic guilt complex is no joke."

Matt stopped his pacing and huffed out a laugh. "You don't say."

"Come here." She reached out her hand and he took it. She tried to tug him back onto the couch, but he kneeled between her legs instead, sitting back on his heels and resting his arms on her legs.

It was fitting that she'd brought up his religion, because he was feeling in a penitent mood. "Do you know anything about the Sacrament of Reconciliation?" he asked.

She frowned at his seemingly random change of subject. "I can't say that was ever part of the Red Room curriculum."

"It's confession, basically. It reconciles you with the church after wounding it with your sins. It lets you receive God's forgiveness."

"Am I God in this scenario?" she asked, gesturing to their positions.

He laughed. "No, you're not nearly capricious enough."

"Okay..."

"So, there are five steps to a good confession," he explained. "Number one, examine your conscience." He marked off the first point with a tap on her thigh. "Be sincerely sorry for your sins." Another tap. "Confess your sins to a priest." Tap. "Resolve to amend your life." Tap. "And do your penance." Tap. "Do you know what the most important step is, at least to me?"

He sensed her frown. "I don't know. The penance?"

"No, the confessing. In order to receive absolution, we have to admit to our shortcomings out loud."

"That sounds like therapy."

Matt laughed again. "Maybe it is, in a way. It's certainly meant to make you really own what you've done."

"Why are you telling me this? I told you that you did nothing wrong this morning. You don't need absolution. There's no penance to pay."

"I know. But I think the act of saying it all out loud just now made me realise what's really going on."

"And what's that?"

"I'm terrified, Callie."

She leaned forward and stroked her hand through his hair. "Of what?"

"Of messing this up. Of doing something wrong, or say something wrong. I meant everything I've said since I got here - I want us to work. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. But I just...I feel like I'm always bracing for the inevitable."

"What's the inevitable?"

"You, leaving," he shrugged.

"Matt—"

"I'm scared I'm going to screw up so badly that you leave me for good. And I know that's just my past speaking—"

"But it's not just in the past though, is it?" she said, her fingers trailing down his cheek, and brushing her thumb over his lips. "I have left you. I've ran from you - from us - when things have gotten difficult. What can I do to convince you that I'll never do that again?"

He covered her hand with his, and turned his head to kiss her palm. "I honestly don't know."

"Would...," she started, before biting her lip, cutting off the rest of the sentence.

"What? What were you going to say?"

She took a deep breath. "That question you didn't quite ask the other day. The, um, topic you raised, about our future..."

Matt smiled at her awkwardness. "You can say the word, Calina. 'Marriage'."

"Yeah, that. Would that help?"

Matt frowned. "That's not why I want to marry you. A ring on your finger...it wouldn't be like a shackle, keeping you with me."

"So why do you want it?"

Matt frowned, and tilted his head, searching for the answer. Marriage felt like the logical next step for them - but he didn't know if that was just societal expectations, or if there was more to it. "I'm not sure," he admitted, taking her hand in both of his, and playing with her fingers. "It's not like I had an example of marriage growing up - either good or bad. But it was always something celebrated and cherished by the church. The 'Sanctity of Marriage' isn't just lazy political speech - it actually means something. The love between a married couple is literally sacred. It's a holy covenant. And I guess..."

"What?"

"To me, getting married, it's an expression - a declaration - that our love is sacred. That it's more important than anything that came before."

As he spoke, Matt realised that he'd been wrong the other day. Getting married wasn't just a technicality. He did, in fact, want to stand in God's house in front of a priest and witnesses and affirm his love for Calina. He wanted to do it properly. Him in a tux, her in a white dress...the whole nine yards.

Calina smiled. "That's a pretty convincing argument, even to an atheist."

Matt smiled at her joke, but wished he knew if there was any truth beneath her light, teasing tone. Was she actually swayed by his reasoning? Or did she just want to break the tension of the moment? He'd promised not to pressure her, but he'd just laid all his cards on the table, and she still held hers maddeningly close to her chest. "Any, uh, rebuttal statements from opposing counsel?"

She let out a shaky laugh. "Well, I wouldn't say I'm opposing counsel..."

"On the jury, then. Weighing up the arguments."

"Yeah. I just need a little more time to deliberate. If that's okay."

He kissed her hand. "Of course it's okay."

He rose up on his knees and made a move to stand, but she grabbed the front of his t-shirt, holding him in place. "I, um, did think about it. Before. From time to time."

He cocked his head, a genuine smile tipping up the corner of his mouth. "You did?"

"Yeah. Just silly daydreams."

"Not silly, Calina."

"It felt like it at the time."

"And now?"

"Now...?" She bit her lip, and smoothed out the creases she'd made in his shirt. "Now, it still feels kind of new between us. Too new to be thinking about that yet. I know that's not really fair to you, but it's been six years for me, Matt. I need some time to get used to this again."

"Hey, I get it. We're on different timelines."

Her brow creased. "That makes it sound like we're running parallel to each other, destined to never converge."

He leaned towards her, wedging himself firmly between her thighs. He tilted his head to kiss her neck. "Oh, there'll be plenty of converging," he smirked.

Her breath hitched when he kissed her again, but then she put her hand back on his chest, holding him at bay. "I was being serious. We need a better analogy."

"Okay, how about we're on the same track, but I'm a little ahead of you. I'll just have to slow down, let you catch up."

Her hand moved around to the back of his neck, and she played with ends of his hair. "What if my engine's a little damaged?" she asked. "And it needs some work in the shop first? You don't mind waiting?"

"I'll wait as long as it takes. I've got nowhere else to be." He cupped her face in both hands, and kissed her softly. Gently. "You're my destination, Callie." He kissed her cheek. "My last stop." The angle of her jaw. "My only port of call." Her lips again. "My safe harbour."

"You're mixing your transportation metaphors," she said. He could hear the smile in her voice as he kissed his way down her neck.

"Sweetheart?" he murmured against her skin.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"Okay," she giggled, a light breathy sound that he felt beneath his lips. She was still laughing when he pushed her back on the couch and covered her body with his.

It was the best sound in the world.