by Battus philenor
Archive: Please ask first I might say yes.
Disclaimer: I have no claim to anything CSI related. I get nothing from this but happiness in doing things that those who do own CSI would never do.
Summary: This is a completely gratuitous little scene. Characterization???
Copywrite © by Battus philenor 6/2004
He can taste the salt from her still glistening skin as he drags his tongue down her spine from the base of her neck to her tail bone. Pausing there only to place a kiss in that hollow spot just
before the separation between her cheeks begins. Continuing down in between them; slowing to swirl around the rim of one and then the next opening, before moving to the little nub still sensitive
from acts finished just moments ago.
She tries to buck at his touch, but his hands hold her hips firmly to him; he's in total control, pushing her, making her feel him again so soon. Willing her flesh to play along as he wishes, hoping she can take the manipulation because his need to taste her is too great to deny.
Lapping and flicking repeatedly, his grip tightens to keep her in place. She pleads, begs for him to wait, to slow, to give her one more minute, but he knows that most of her wants him to keep going. Her tone betrays the words which tumble from her mouth, and her hands reach back, threading through his curls pulling his face deeper into her, contradicting those words which still fall from her lips.
His excitement grows, knowing he's pushing her, making her change her mind. That she wants him even when it's too much pleasure for her body to take. And as her body starts to stiffen, to shake uncontrollably catapulting her over the edge, only then does she stop imploring him, only then does she stop pleading. Repeating one word over, in rhythm with her hands, which are still tugging his head.
"Yes. Yes. Yes."
Drowning out her mantra, he concentrates solely on riding out her wave, urging her to keep going as he continues stimulating her beyond where she's gone before. And as her muscles relax he longs to keep playing, stroking that flesh, but he finally stops. Knowing he'll want her again shortly, and afraid if he pushes too much, she really won't be able.
Releasing his grip as he pulls his head back, he's shocked briefly by the red hand prints standing out against the white flesh there. But the smile that greets him as she rolls over, reaching for him, tugging him down into her arms, reassures him.
As he drifts off, soothed into sleep by the gentle beat of her heart, he smiles, thinking perhaps in the next round, he won't stop at all.
- The End -
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