"Miss Smith?"

A female doctor pulled the curtain back and stepped into the cubicle, looking at a chart in her hand, before she pulled the curtain close again.

"That's me," I said, feeling embarrassed.

The doctor looked up at me. "My name's Dr Myers. I hear you've had a fall and now have quite a nasty cut on your head?"

I nodded and winced at the same time, pressing a tea towel to my left cheek, where I was currently bleeding from.

"And this is...," Dr Myers asked, gesturing to him.

"Shannon Leto. The boyfriend," he said in his deep sexy voice and I could tell she was just a little bit happier than a moment ago. He had that effect on people.

"Let me have a look at the wound," Dr Myers said and turned on a really bright lamp, whilst I dropped my hands in my lap.

She prodded and poked. I tried not to wince, but it really fucking hurt. Shannon grabbed my hand, holding it, and had the decency to look sympathetic.

"That needs cleaning and stitches, I'm afraid. Don't worry, I'll give you a local anaesthetic."

She poked her head out the curtain and rattled off an order to a nurse, then turned back to us.

"So, tell me again how this happened?"

"I was in the shower, slipped, fell, banged my head," I summarised.

The curtain opened, the nurse pushed in a tray on a trolley and handed Dr Myers a thick folder.

Oh no. Please spare me this...

She busied herself skipping through the pages, then looked back up at us.

"Is it okay if Mr Leto steps outside for a moment?" she said with a big ass fake smile. "It's hospital policy. You can sit in the waiting room, we'll come get you once she's stitched up."

Her tone left no room for discussion. Shannon got up and looked at me. I shrugged. He leaned down and kissed me tenderly on the lips.

"Be a brave girl, sweetheart. I'll see you in a bit."

Then he was gone.

Dr Myers turned to me with a very serious look on her face.

"Miss Smith, I need to ask you some questions. Looking at the quite substantial folder I have here from your past emergency room visits, and the kind of injuries you have sustained over the time frame of the last seven months, lead me to suspect you are in an abusive relationship. Is that the case?"

I sighed. "I'm not."

She looked thoroughly unconvinced.

"I appreciate your concern, but I am really not," I explained. "Look, Shannon and I haven't been together that long and we..."

God this was so embarrassing, I knew my cheeks were red as a tomato.

"We wanted to try out our sex fantasies. Turns out things are a lot harder than they make them look in... uh, the films."

"What films?"

Seriously?

"Porn."

Dr Myers still didn't believe me. She took the folder and opened it.

"The burn marks on your back?"

"He wanted to try sex on the stairs. The carpet on it was surprisingly rougher than we'd anticipated."

She looked down again. "What about the sprained wrist?"

"Handcuffs. That one was a terrible idea."

It really, really was.

"The dislocated knee cap?"

I winced. "Yeah, that was Shannon's old dishwasher..."

She looked at me confused.

"We were having sex in the kitchen. He was, uh, you know, behind me and Shannon moved his hand to lean onto the counter top. He hit the dishwasher, and a spring had been loose in there for ages... anyways, it snapped open and hit me right in the knee cap."

Dr Myers kept going. "Whiplash?"

I felt like I was in the headmaster's office back at school. "We tried sex in the car. An idiot drove into our parked car."

"The broken ribs?"

Oh where's that hole in the ground when you need it?

"Public sex. In a cinema. The chair was not up to it, collapsed, I fell off Shannon and brought him down with me, he fell onto me, couldn't stop himself, had nowhere to hold on to, uh, yeah."

I looked down, biting on my lips. "Look, I know you don't believe me. But they truly all were sex accidents. We always had a lot of fun until things went wrong, but afterwards we always laugh about it. Shannon is so good to me, he is so gentle and takes such good care of me. It's not his fault that we're trying to fulfil our sex fantasies and it sometimes goes wrong."

Dr Myers lets out a sigh, her face an unreadable mask. "So what really happened today then?"

"Sex in the shower. The tiles were slippy. Plus I hadn't rinsed off my shampoo properly, he picked me up put me against the tiled wall - which by the way is fucking freezing - and then I slipped. He caught me, but not before I banged my head on the bottle rack."

Dr Myers looked at me. Then her face moved a fracture. The tiniest smile curled her lips upwards. Then a chuckle escaped her lips. Then her shoulders started shaking. She threw her head back and was full on laughing.

I couldn't help but join in. It was funny, really. It had cracked Shannon and me up in the car here. Even though he felt bad for me and apologised a thousand times over that he hadn't caught me properly. Or for all the other accidents.

But that was what I loved about our relationship. We laughed a lot in the bedroom. We felt confident and comfortable around each other. It was... just so right.

"Alright then, let's get you stitched up. I'll make a note on your file just in case you should come again with another injury, so they won't walk him out of here in handcuffs," she smirked, before she started to fix my head.

*****

"So, you gonna tell me what had you two in fits of laughter?" Shannon asked on the way home, my hand clasped in his.

"Hm?"

"Dr Myers and you. I could hear your laughter in the waiting room and her mood seemed a lot better than at the beginning."

"Oh. She was just doing her job, hon. She thought you were abusing me. I told her about the real cause of all the accidents, it amused her."

He chuckled. "Thankfully that falls under patient confidentiality."

"Yes, but she made a note on my file to explain, so they won't arrest you next time something happens."

He took his eyes off the road for a second to look at me with a raised eyebrow. "Next time, huh? Think that'll keep happening?"

I squeezed his hand. "It's likely. We've got quite a record of sex injuries. I think that's pretty hot, because it means we're comfortable around each other to lose control."

He pulled up at a red light and looked at me again. This time his eyes were dark and fiery. "You bring the animal out in me. And I love it. I think you do, too."

I leaned over to kiss him on his lips.

"Damn right I do," I whispered, before kissing him deeply again.

A car horn honked behind us. The light had changed. I sat back in my seat, Shannon drove on, a smirk playing on his lips. One that I knew very well by now.

The rest of the ride was silent, but speed limits were definitely pushed.

He parked the car in front of our house and we got out. He held his hand out and pulled me into him, as we walked up the steps to the front door.

We got inside, took off our shoes and he tugged my hand gently. I followed him up the stairs to our bedroom.

He pushed me onto the bed carefully, kissing my lips, along my right jaw, over my cheek. He stopped and looked down on me.

"How many stitches again?" his voice was raw, eyes on the blue thread that adorned my face.

"Seven," I whispered.

"I'm so sorry, babe. Let me make it up to you."

I wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault, but words failed me when he pushed my jumper up and his mouth immediately connected with my nipple. Yeah, didn't have time to put on underwear when I was bleeding from the head and Shannon was all panicky.

"Shannon..."

He tugged on the sleeves and I slid my arms out. He pulled the jumper over my head, making sure that none of my stitches were touched.

He was careful, gentle, his lips trailing over my skin, fingers caressing. He slid down my body, pulling my yoga pants down and off my legs.

"You should go commando more often," he said huskily, "I like it."

His hands worked their way up my now naked legs, avoiding my aching centre. He placed them on his shoulders, kissing his way from my feet up to my thighs and then doing the same on the other leg.

I was a panting mess, rocking my hips into his face, desperate for his touch there. He smirked at me, then kissed my clit and sucked it in his mouth. My head dropped back, my fingers fisted in his hair, pulling on it, getting him closer, deeper. His skilled tongue had me on the verge of an orgasm in a matter of minutes.

"Shannon, please... Inside... I..."

Thankfully Shannon understood my incoherent babbling. He was naked in no time and pushed inside me.

I had always been one to enjoy sex, I was not ashamed to say it. But sex with Shannon, the man I loved - well it beat every experience, every fantasy I ever had. It was a different thing altogether. The closeness and intimacy we shared, the tenderness in his touch - even when he got a little rough sometimes - it all touched my heart, made my soul sing, my body hum.

He cursed under his breath, then gently cupped my face with one hand. Love was shining in his eyes.

"Babe, I hope you know that I would never do anything to hurt you. I'm so sorry we keep having these accidents."

I put a finger on his lips. "Please stop apologising. We try things, sometimes they go wrong. We just have to practice more."

"Hmm, practice," he rolled his hips against mine, making me gasp. "I like the sound of that."

"Not just that," I smirked.

"You're right," he said, dipping his head to kiss my neck, sucking on the one spot that drives me absolutely wild. I let out a loud moan.

"I'm particularly fond of that sound," he smiled against my skin.

His hips picked up speed and he angles them as he thrust into me, hitting another spot that drives me wild. I was right there.

"Shannon, please," I begged.

"I love this sound as well, you begging for me," he whispered.

His hand reached between our bodies. His fingers found my clit, starting to rub it in slow circles as he copied the movement with his hips. He built us up slowly. It was delicious torture.

I could feel his body starting to shake at the same time as mine. I wrapped my legs tighter around his hips, my fingers digging into the muscles of his back as the toe-curling orgasm washed over me and I moaned his name.

He cursed as he released inside of me, jaw slack, eyes closed, that look on his face that I couldn't quite describe other than orgasmic.

"That," he said trying to catch his breath, "that is my favourite sound, when you come undone for me."

I cupped his face and kissed him slowly. "I love you, Shannon."

"Love you, too," he smiled and pulled me into his arms.

Hearing this from him - I hoped I would never get used to it or take it for granted, because it was a special, precious thing.