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: A very small, overly fluffy scene.
Copywrite © by Battus philenor
Her first sensation as waking is one of disorientation. While feeling completely secure and comfortable, she knows something is off. As bits of memories flood her brain, a smile forms on her
His hand rests on her hip; fingers twitching along that crease where the leg meets the body, every so often sending ripples of pleasure over her skin. Feeling the cool morning air on her chest she knows the sheet is pulled down, around the point where his hand lays.
Knowing if she opens her eyes and looks to the right she'll see him, broad, barreled chest, tanned, and lightly coated with fur raising and lowering steadily with the rhythm of sleep. She opts to first take in this moment with her other senses instead.
The sound of his breathing giving her a peace she'd never known. While not snoring, it's louder than normal, and she wonders briefly if he's getting a cold. Thinking if he does, she'll enjoy taking care of him.
A sound in the background steady but faint; she realizes is the mantle clock sitting on the sideboard in his dining room. The constant ticking, methodical and comforting to a man who enjoys precision.
Inhaling slowly she takes in the aroma of the room they share. More than just the normal combination of his and her scent; it's a mix of the musk of the fluids which were their body's responses to each other and sweat from their exertion in aiming to please. It intoxicates her.
Unable to wait any longer, she cracks an eye getting her first glimpse of his bedroom in the day.
Golden lines of light shine against the wall, flickering occasionally as the tree outside the window sways, blocking the suns rays at the wind's whim. It seems to highlight the small display of butterflies hanging there. Almost like a halo surrounding the small creatures showing off for them.
She turns her head towards him, unable to stop the sharp intake of air as she sees him in this new light. Head resting on his pillow, ten years gone from his face as lines, apparent when awake have been eased away with sleep.
His silver curls disheveled, splayed out over the dark blue of the pillow case. Lips parted slightly she can just see the tip of his tongue resting against his teeth. That tongue which was so expertly used, giving her more pleasure than she'd ever experienced.
Leaning gently she places a kiss on his still swollen lips. Lashes flutter in front of her as the blue of his eyes is born to the morning. His smile starts there, but spreads quickly over his whole face.
His hand glides across her skin; palm down and fingers pressing with purpose, coming to rest at her center. He twirls the hair there around his fingertips, causing her toes to curl almost to the point of cramping.
And the dance that they had shared last night for the first time will be practiced again this morning.
- The End -
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