“Well, congratulations, Mr. President.”

 

Sunlight streamed in through the windows of the new hotel that Natasha had rented out, bright and cheerful and completely at odds with the events that had occurred in the last few weeks. The casualties were heavy, but not as heavy as had been anticipated. Unfortunately, both Brendan and Flores had died while they fought, and Natasha had cried for a very long time when she learned about Flores. She had been there; she had seen it… maybe she could have prevented it. In public, they buried their dead, and she looked as strong and regal as a queen. Now, only Griffin saw her cry in public.

 

It had been a week since everything had happened, and finally they had found time to simply be together, and boy, what a time that was. Natasha felt as though they hadn’t stopped having sex since the day before—although she knew that was ridiculous.

 

They had only taken a break from each other to attend a meeting with all of the charters. They were voting in new leaders to replace old. Both Griffin and Natasha had been pleasantly surprised to see Julian get voted as the president of the Marfa charter and Elias as the Vallejo charter, but the biggest surprise of all came when they voted for the president of the Lost Disciples.

 

“Griffin,” Julian had said, his voice strong and sure of himself. He even raised his hand to complete the nomination. Natasha’s heart soared as mumbles moved through the crowed and heads nodded. She caught Zachariah’ eye, and he raised an eyebrow as if to say, “I told you so.” Natasha had known that Griffin had been willing to assume leadership, but now that it was actually happening, it seemed almost unreal.

 

“Alright, show of hands for Griffin as president of the Lost Disciples?” someone asked. Julian’s hand went up again, then Zachariah’, then Elias’, and then one by one the others raised their hands. Griffin watched with a completely astonished look on his face, as hands continued to raise. It wasn’t until every man’s hand was raised in the room that it really began to hit him. He turned to look at Natasha.

 

Natasha raised her hand.

 

“I still can’t believe it,” Griffin murmured, as he kissed down her shoulder, careful not to disturb the freshly wrapped wound on her upper arm. Zachariah had taken good care of her, and even remarked that he was impressed by her bravery. It barely hurt anymore, and she was honestly still impressed by the scar.

 

***

 

“Believe it, because it happened!” With a burst of strength, she rolled him onto his back and straddled him now that they were once again alone. Already she could feel him getting hard beneath her, and she loved the power that gave her. They had practically trashed her hotel room the first night they had sex after the firefight. They both still had bruises, and it was the most satisfying sex she had ever had.

 

Now she teased the tip of his penis with the wet lips of her vulva, enjoying the look of pained pleasure on his face as she did so. With a quick movement, he grabbed her hips and moved her down, sliding himself deep inside of her. She moaned with pleasure; it just felt too good to ignore. They moved together in a perfect rhythm, as though they had been made for each other, as his hands moved up to gently stroke her nipples.

 

There was something to this, she decided, the idea of sex after battle. She loved it; he loved it; and for the rest of their lives, they would have this.

 

She leaned down and pressed her lips against his, feeling him move inside of her, hearing the sounds of his pleasure muffled against her lips. She rode him gently for a while, before going faster and faster. Suddenly, his fingers were on her clit, stroking her in the same rhythm, and she was so close. She was almost there, and then she was crying out in terrific ecstasy. Griffin couldn’t take it anymore, and he gripped her hips, driving into her harder and harder until he hit that terrific crescendo as well.

 

Natasha slumped against him, and he wrapped his arm around her. They lay like this for a while until Griffin broke the silence.

 

“I love you,” he said, staring up at the ceiling. He said it in an almost flinching way, as though terrified of her reaction, as though terrified that she was going to laugh. Natasha propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at him. There was a laughter in her eyes.

 

“I love you too, you big softie.”

 

The two of them laughed, and he pulled her down again, kissing until the both of them gasped for breath.