Chapter Text
The early morning light streamed in through the small gap in the curtains, creating a warm hazy glow across the bedroom. The beam cut across the expanse of the room till it finally settled on the large double bed, bathing it in soft delicate light.
Robin stirred slowly blinking. She stretched almost cat like under the crisp white sheets covering her still naked form. Her whole body ached, though the sensation was far from unwelcome. It was in fact a delicious, sinfully sore kind of ache that served as a reminder of the exquisite experience she had participated in the night before.
Snap shots of memories began to flood Robin’s mind. Filling her with sensual, beautiful recollections that made her flush. The effect quickly snapping her back into focus as she awoke fully.
Strike!
Robin’s heart jolted suddenly fearing that maybe it had all been some wild erotic dream and Strike would not be there.
Or worse.
She would find evidence Strike had been and gone already. Stealing away in the night under the cover of darkness. Remorse and regret over what had transpired between them dogging his every step, as he made his way slowly back to Denmark Street.
Guilt immediately washed over Robin for ever doubting Cormoran, or thinking him capable of such a despicable cowardly act. Her own past insecurities raising their ugly head and momentarily getting the better of her.
She rolled over her eyes falling immediately on the large, solid unmistakable bulk of Strike…A very naked and breathtakingly gorgeous Cormoran Strike!
Robin’s heart filled with warmth and an almost overwhelming feeling of happiness as she regarded him. The early morning light and Cormoran’s peaceful slumber made him appear softer, almost boyish to her avid gaze. His current vulnerability making Robin’s heart ache with the fierce depth of her love and regard for this man. Her partner, best friend and now lover.
Her everything.
Robin couldn’t help voyeuristically watching Strike for several minutes as he slept on. Unable to tear her eyes away. Wanting to commit the image of him this morning to her memory and heart forever.
She was fascinated by the slow steady rise and fall of his broad, deliciously hairy chest. He looked like a giant slumbering bear. Making her want to snuggle up to him and never leave his warm protective embrace.
Flushing at the thought, Robin’s eyes continued their progress. She cast an appreciative look at Cormoran’s bed soft face and jaw now sporting more beard than stubble. His black hair looked stark against the crisp white pillows. The dark waves were a sexy rumpled mess, stuck up at odd angles that gave Strike an endearingly disheveled quality.
Both of Cornoran’s arms were tucked up underneath his head, showing off the powerful bunched muscles in his biceps. Those strong arms had held her so gently last night after they both lay breathless and trembling from their mutual ecstasy. They had provided her with comfort and a deep sense of belonging, rightness and peace. The like of which Robin could not remember feeling since her early childhood.
God she loved him.
To Robin, Strike had never looked more sexy and undeniably handsome than he did in that moment. ‘And he’s all mine’, She thought making her heart swoop with pure unadulterated pleasure. Happiness flooding her again as she remembered him calling her ‘My Robin.’
Memories of the tender caresses they’d shared, softly whispered words and the feel of Strike’s uneven lips on her skin filled Robin’s mind. She blushed fiercely at the recollection of how Cormoran had felt thrusting deep inside her. How he had filled her and driven her to the most Earth shatteringly intense orgasm she had ever experienced in her life.
He’d told her he loved her.
That he always had.
Ridiculously and almost childishly Robin wanted to shout for joy. She had never felt so connected to a person as she did to Strike. They had not just slept together last night, they had made love to one another. The physical act a reflection and extension of their commitment to one another. A uniting of hearts, bodies and minds.
Robin sighed with pleasure and allowed herself a few more moments to enjoy her memories. Still staring at Strike until his low rumbling voice broke the silence of her revery.
“Are you going to stare at me all morning Ellacott? I really don’t mind. But I’d much rather you c’mere and let me say good morning to you properly.”
Strike’s eyes fluttered open, his intense green gaze twinkling with mirth. Clearly delighted he had caught her in the act of staring so appreciatively at him. Strike’s amusement however was short lived as his eyes flared with heat as he took in Robin’s nakedness besides him.
“Fucking hell!” Cormoran murmured softly, not giving Robin the chance to reply as he reached across the bed for her. His arm sliding possessively around her hip and tugging her the small distance that lay between them.
Robin moaned softly at the sudden feel of Strike’s warm body pressed against her own. His broad expanse and powerful arms cocooning her against him flooding her body with heat and igniting an instant spark of arousal within her.
Cormoran dipped his head and claimed Robin’s lips with a tender yet passionate reverence. Gently rolling her underneath him as he shifted to hover above her. Pressing her deliciously into the mattress with his hairy bulk.
The combination of Strike’s soft uneven lips and the scrape of his beard against her skin was like adding gasoline to an already smouldering fire. Robin felt another sharp spike of arousal crash through her as she moaned out loud and arched her body against Strike’s. Her actions only stoking the molten heat of desire that existed between them.
Cormoran took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue swept sensually into her mouth, erotically gliding against her own.
They kissed each other with slow, sensual abandon for several long moments. Their bodies wound tightly together as Robin cradled Strike against her, feeling his erection as it pressed against her thigh. Both groaning softly at the feel of each other’s growing passion and need. Hands gently stroking and caressing wherever they could reach.
Eventually they both parted panting and a little dazed. Unable to believe how fast the situation had escalated from a simple kiss. Strike reached a large hand up to cup Robin’s face, gently carding his fingers through her hair.
“Fuck. I’m sorry Robin. I only meant to kiss you. I practically jumped on you like a bloody animal.I lost control. M’sorry.” Strike husked, his voice gravelly and rich with apology.
“God. Don’t apologise for that Strike. Never apologise for that… I like you touching me… I like you being with me.” Robin flushed looking a little embarrassed by her deceleration.
“Yeah?” Said Strike a slightly smug smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.
“Yeah….You needn’t stop on my account.” Robin blushed. Though her expression gazing up at Strike was full of hopeful longing. The throbbing ache at her core he had so easily awoken begging for his touch, and the ecstasy she knew only he could bring her.
Strike growled loudly in apparent frustration. “Believe me Robin. There is nothing I would like more than to make love to you right now.” Whispered Strike his eyes dark pools of pure unadulterated passion and arousal. “But I have surveillance in Camden in just over an hour.” His voice was laced with regret. His eyes conflicted as though trying to think of a way out of the commitment that would take him from her.
“We could be quick?” Robin said a little embarrassed by the eagerness of her suggestion.
“I don’t want to just fuck you Robin.”Strike sighed softly, stroking her hair back from her face and gazing down at her with tenderness. “When we make love again I want to at least emulate if not exceed what occurred between us last night. I want to take my time worshipping every last gorgeous inch of you. You deserve no less.”
Robin almost sobbed at Strike’s words but managed to reply. “Ok. I’m not going anywhere. I think we’ve made it pretty clear this is long term.” Said Robin anxious to hear Strike’s response.
“Is forever long term enough?” He whispered softly, his eyes burning with sincerity as he grazed his large thumb over the apple of her cheek.
“Sounds perfect.” Robin managed to reply, overcome with the sweet raw honesty of his words.
“Thank fuck for that.” Whispered Strike as fleetingly Robin tilted her chin and brushed her lips softly over his. Pulling away quickly as she determined to be ‘good’.
The agency was important to them both and they couldn’t afford to annoy clients by not following up leads. As much as she wanted to spend the rest of the day in bed with Strike, (making love till they were exhausted and sated), he needed to be in Camden.
“Christ, I don’t want to let you go Robin.” Strike murmured softly dropping his forehead against hers. His large hands gliding sensually over her skin again.
“I know. How about you stay here and get dressed whilst I go and get you something to eat? Take it with you. You must be starving, we skipped dinner last night.” Said Robin smiling at him running her fingers through his hair. Loving how surprisingly soft it felt beneath her touch.
“Sounds bloody marvellous.” He rumbled twinkling down at her smiling that rare yet wonderful lopsided grin of his. However, in the last twenty-four-hours Robin had seen it flickering across Strike’s face increasingly. The thought she was making him so happy made her smile up at him and her heart soar.
“Did I ever tell you you’re an exceptional woman?” Strike said brushing his lips against hers softly and fleetingly.
“You may have mentioned it once or twice. But please by all means tell me again. Feel free to elaborate further as well.” Robin giggled mischievously.
“Minx.” Strike rumbled good naturedly as he rolled off her with a heavy sigh laced with regret and frustration.
Robin felt the loss of his hard, broad warmth immediately but scooted out of the bed before her resolve crumbled. She grabbed her silk navy dressing gown and pulled it on fastening it tightly round her waist.
Turning back to face Strike she noticed he hadn’t moved. Apparently to busy watching her. Cormoran’s head was propped up on one muscular arm, his undeniably hungry and heated gaze raking over her body. Robin flushed but was secretly pleased she was having such an obvious affect on Strike.
“You’re meant to be getting up Strike.” She said mock sternly grabbing a pillow and playfully throwing it at him. Her action caused Strike to rumble deeply with laughter as he ducked easily missing her impromptu missile.
“I will. I will. You’re just so bloody gorgeous I got distracted.” Strike husked making a show of watching her. His heated gaze never once leaving her as she sashayed out of the room. (And if Robin put a little extra sway into her hips as she walked past him, who could blame her).
………………………………………………………………….
Robin made her way up the stairs smiling quietly to herself feeling lighter and more carefree than she had in years. She headed to the kitchen straight away grabbing a couple of large croissants and placing them in the microwave to warm them through.
Retrieving some cheese and ham from the fridge, Robin quietly hummed to herself as she thought about Strike. Unable to squash her happiness at doing something for him. Enjoying the feeling of taking care of the big surly man she had grown to love so dearly. The feminist in Robin feeling a little guilty but not enough to quell her good mood.
She assembled the croissants quickly and regarded her efforts. It wasn’t Strike’s preferred fry-up that was for sure Robin thought as she wrapped the offering carefully in foil. But time dictated it would have to do. If he was going to make it to Camden he had less than ten minutes to leave her flat.
Smiling to herself once she had finished Robin cast her eyes over the living room. Noticing straight away the discarded wrapping paper and ribbon from Strike’s birthday presents lying untidily on the floor. Forgotten in the heat of that searing kiss they had shared last night.
Ignoring her flush of arousal at the memories filtering through her mind Robin walked over to pick the paper up. Immediately spotting the books she had gifted Strike on the arm of the sofa. Robin picked up the old leather bound copy of Shakespeare’s Sonnets stroking the cover and admiring the gold gilt lettering and ornate pattern on the front. It really was a beautiful book.
Strike had been touched by the thoughtfulness of the gift. Robin’s recollections brought to mind a sudden memory of Strike referring to the significance of Sonnet 27. Robin’s interest piqued as she began to leaf carefully through the pages. Locating the sonnet and reading it silently.
As Robin finished reading tears stung her eyes at the beauty of the words she had just read. Understanding immediately why they where important to Strike. Her heart swelling with love for him.
Just then Robin heard the living room door click open behind her, and the soft but sure tread of Strike’s footsteps across the carpeted floor. He came to stand right behind her, his arm softly looping round her middle as he drew her against his hard broad chest.
Strike’s scruffy face dropped to her shoulder as he lovingly nuzzled her neck. His free hand reaching round to flip the book closed as in his gravelly soft voice he began to speak. The timbre of his deep voice rumbling deliciously against her back.
“ Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired; But then begins a journey in my head, To work my mind, when body’s work’s expired: For then my thoughts, from far where I abide, Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee, And keep my drooping eyelids open wide, Looking on darkness which the blind do see: Save that my soul’s imaginary sight Presents thy shadow to my sightless view, Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,Makes black night beauteous and her old face new. Lo! Thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind, For thee and for myself no quiet find.”
Strike finished reciting the sonnet perfectly. Pressing a soft kiss to Robin’s head he turned her gently in his arms to wipe away her tears using the cuff of his shirt sleeve. Both his arms looped around her now as he held her close to him.
“I don’t need the book. I know those words like the back of my own hand.” Strike rumbled softly. “Shakespeare wrote them about his best friend, who he missed even when they were parted for the briefest of times… it’s always reminded me of you. Of how I felt about us. I carry thoughts of you everywhere I go Robin. You’ve always been in my mind and heart, night and day…“ Strike trailed off.
“Oh Cormoran.” Robin whispered. “That’s beautiful.”
“I’m sure with recent developments I could find a more romantic sonnet that would describe us better now.“ Strike murmured looking suddenly bashful. “I’m not the most romantic bloke in the world Robin, but I could try to be …for you.”
“That Sonnets perfect Cormoran. I don’t need romance. I don’t want you to try to be anything. I just want you, just the way you are.” Robin said wrapping her arms around his middle enjoying the reassuring solidity of him. Touched deeply by this man whose soft beautiful heart beat beneath the outwardly gruff, rugged exterior.
Strike looked down at her shaking his head slightly. “You’re the only person I’ve ever known who has just accepted me for who I am and never tried to change or improve me.” He stated matter of factly.
Robin shrugged. “I’ve witnessed first hand what it’s like to be in a relationship where the other partner wants to control, manipulate and change you … I think we both have.” She said tentatively. “That’s not who we are though.” She added softly.
Strike appeared unable to speak, but responded by tugging Robin into his arms. She gladly went, pressing herself into the comfort of Strike’s solid chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. They remained that way for several minutes until the pressure of time parted them.
“I have to go.” Said Strike looking suddenly pained.
“I’ve made you something to take with you.” She smiled at Cormoran handing him the foil packet.
“Thanks Robin.” Strike murmured softly looking touched.
“I thought after not cooking for you last night it was the least I could do.” Said Robin half laughing. “We both know what you’re like if your not fed regularly. It’s a wonder you’re still standing upright Strike!” She joked attempting to lighten the mood of his imminent departure.
“Fucking cheek!” Complained Strike with no heat. “Though I do remember somebody did promise me dinner before they seduced me with their feminine charms.” Strike said grinning mischievously at her. His eyes crinkling deliciously at the corners.
“Oh is that how you want to play it Mister? I seem to remember you didn’t take to much persuasion.” Laughed Robin her own eyes twinkling with mirth as she looked at Strike’s gorgeous battered face.
“Well. I could always do with you refreshing my memory.” Strike rumbled, wiggling his eyebrows in a comical suggestive manor which made Robin giggle and smack his arm playfully.
“You have to be in Camden remember Mister Strike…Though you could come back after your surveillance.” She added softly.
Strike took a small step towards her. Placing his thumb and forefinger beneath her chin. Drawing her face up to look into his stormy green eyes. “ Believe me there is nowhere else I would rather be. Nobody else I would rather be with. But I can’t. I promised the Herbert’s already I’d go to dinner. I had to appease Ilsa for not letting her carry out that fucking awful party idea of hers for my birthday. Besides. “ said Strike grinning from ear to ear. “ Ilsa promised one of her famous shepherds pies for dinner. Good to know somebody is taking care of my needs.”
“I seem to recall I took perfect care of your needs Strike.” Said Robin flushing at her own lude remark.
“Yeah, you fucking did.” Whispered Strike softly. Circling his arm around her waist again and pulling her to him. He leaned down slowly, deliberately only just ghosting his lips over her own and pulling back. “Come with me?” He murmured his eyes gently regarding her, almost pleading as his hand round her waist brushed up her side and down again. Caressing her through the soft silk of her nightgown causing her skin to tingle with pleasure.
“What to Nick and Ilsa’s? Strike I can’t I’m not invited!” She exclaimed looking up into his eyes. If eyes where indeed the mirror to the soul then Cormoran’s soul was beautiful Robin mused. Swaying slightly and desperate to kiss him, but managing to stop herself just in time.
“Since when did that matter! Ilsa bloody loves you. The only reason she didn’t ask you is because she assumed you’d have had enough of me after being with me all day yesterday. Besides she always caters for the forty thousand. There will be plenty of food.” Strike said, clearly warming to the idea as his eyes sparkled brightly. His hand now caressing up her back in a very distracting way.
“And what will Ilsa think when I turn up uninvited with you?” Whispered Robin her eyes reflecting her anxiety.
“Well.” Said Strike slowly. “I should imagine she will think I stopped being a fucking idiot and finally told you how I really felt about you … and turns out you we’re ok about it?” He grinned down at her quirking his eyebrow.
“You wouldn’t mind them knowing so soon about us?” Robin queried unable to resist touching Strike now as she brushed her hands through his beard.
“Robin, Look at me. I haven’t stopped grinning all morning. It’s bloody unheard of! My face is actually beginning to ache because of it.” Strike joked. “I can’t hide it. I can’t stop smiling and we both know what a grumpy fucker I am. There’s no way Ilsa won’t guess something is going on with or without you being present.” Strike stated matter of factly.
Then leaning in Cormoran brushed his lips against her cheek. Nuzzling at her neck and whispered in her ear. “ I Can’t hide this. I can’t hide how happy you have made me Robin. How much I love you.”
Robin’s heart slammed into her chest at Strike’s words. They had both said those words to each other last night whilst in the throws of passion. Robin was sure Strike had meant what he said. He wasn’t a man to say anything he didn’t mean. She just wasn’t expecting him to repeat the sentiment often or be so verbose in declaring his feelings so openly and honestly. Strike had never appeared to be a demonstrative or overly affectionate man before.
As if sensing her surprise Strike drew back to look down at her. His eyes so full of warmth and love Robin felt guilty for doubting him. Cormoran reached out and cupped her face with both hands, his fingers sifting through her hair as he tilted her head a look of sudden fierce determination in his eyes.
“I once told myself I would never tell someone I loved them again unless I meant it. Unless I was absolutely sure I could build a future with them. That I was committed to them in every way imaginable for the rest of my life… Robin Venetia Ellacott I am so in love with you. You are undoubtedly the love of my life.”
Robin sobbed at Strike’s words, her eyes burning as tears escaped her eyes and ran down her cheek. Using the rough pads of his large thumbs Strike brushed them away and stared down at her intently.
“Well that’s a relief because you’re the love of my life to Strike.” She managed to say. “You know you can be incredibly romantic when you want to be Strike.” Robin half laughed smiling softly back up at him.
“Shhhh. Don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin that finely tuned image of a grumpy fucker I’ve been honing for years.” Said Strike in a matter of fact dead pan tone, causing Robin to break out into peels of laughter.
……………………………………………………………….
It had eventually took several more minutes. Non of which involved much talking before Strike departed Finborough road.
Robin had subsequently spent the rest of the day doing necessary domestic chores such as cleaning, washing and ironing. Though the usual mundaneness of such tasks was made a lot more pleasant by her thoughts of Strike and the promise of seeing him in a few short hours for Sunday dinner at the Herbert’s.
So it was she now found herself waiting on the corner of Octavia Street for Strike. Pleased to see he was actually on time as his large imposing figure appeared . He made his way towards her purposefully. A large grin breaking on his face as he spotted her.
“Hello Strike.” Robin said smiling at him and happily allowing herself to be pulled into his arms. Inhaling the scent of lavender cologne, smoke and washing detergent from the new shirt he had changed into.
“Hello Ellacott.” Strike murmured pressing a kiss to her temple, and caressing her cheek with his large rough hand.
“Surveillance go ok?” She asked falling into step besides him as they walked the last few metres to the Herbert’s house.
“Waste of bloody time. Nothing to report back to Mister Howarth. If his wife is having an affair she’s bloody discrete about it.” Strike said grimacing slightly.
“I missed you today.” Robin said in a small tentative voice.
“I missed you to Robin.” Said Strike softly smiling down at her as they reached the Herbert’s front door. Strike turned to raise his large hand a wrapped the door loudly with his knuckles.
A sudden wave of anxiety hit Robin. She had been so wrapped up in thoughts of Strike and excited about seeing him she hadn’t given much thought to how Nick and Ilsa would react to her turning up. Or how they were planning on telling the Herbert’s about the monumental development in their relationship.
“How are we doing this?” Robin asked looking up at Cormoran nervously.
“Like this.” Said Strike smiling down at her softly sliding his rough calloused hands into hers and entwining their fingers together. Their hands slotted together perfectly and they both silently exhaled with pleasure at the rightness of it all.
Robin looked down at where their hands were joined.Those wonderful strong hands of his. The hands that she knew would steady her if she needed it. That would guide her gently if she asked for it. That would reach for her and comfort her with a single touch. Yet could also bring her to the dizzying heights of ecstasy, the like of which she had never known before.
“I’m the luckiest bastard that ever lived. I love you Robin.” Rumbled Strike.
Neither able to say much more as the door to the Herbert’s flew open to reveal Ilsa Herbert. “Robin!” she exclaimed in surprise.
Ilsa looked down at them both from her vantage point on the threshold of her Wandsworth home. Her sharp bright eyes scrutinising them, till finally they rested on Strike and Robin’s joined hands.
Her eyes widened and almost comically her hands flew to her mouth and she let out a shriek of joy. Tears filled Ilsa’s eyes, her face a picture of perfect happiness as she regarded her two friends. She began to flap her hands wildly, incoherently babbling things like “I knew it!” and “About bloody time.”
Strike allowed Ilsa a few moments smiling fondly at his old friend. Then in his characteristic gruff way ground out “For fucks sake Ilsa are you going to let us in or what? I’m bloody starving and I’m freezing my arse off out here. Causing everyone to laugh.
Ilsa ushered them inside practically bawling “Nick! Nick!” up the hallway in her excitement.
Strike and Robin exchanged a brief smile as they entered the Herbert’s house. The door clicking shut firmly behind them. Both looking down at each other instinctively knowing what the other was thinking. They both reflected how very different this evening was going to be from the one they had shared here only a couple of weeks ago.
They had both felt so miserable back then. Lost in thoughts of what they believed was a hopeless situation. Mistaken deductions, reasoning and logic leading them to be unable to comprehend the other could feel the same way.
“Thank goodness for defying flawed fucking logic.” Rumbled Strike softly in Robin’s ear as they both beamed at each other. Their love for each other unmistakably shining in their eyes.
The End. X