Wildcard (A.H. x Reader x S.R.)

Chapter 4 - Lucky Number Seven

"I ride the edge,

My speed goes in the red.

Hot blood, these veins,

My pleasure is their pain...

I've always liked to play with fire..."

-Play With Fire – Sam Tinnesz (Ft. Yacht Money)

You awoke what you could only assume was a few hours later, your head resting on someone's pectoral. Hotchner's pectoral. Your eyes closed and then opened and then closed, before snapping open in surprise at how you were both laying. One of your legs tangled with his, one of your arms thrown over his abdomen. His fingers were brushing through your hair, a contented hum coming from Hotchner's chest. This suggested intimacy. The two of you were not intimate. Horny? Yes. Kind of insane? Probably. Intimate? Definitely not.

"Stop freaking out, y/n. You just looked really comfortable. You must be considering you slept soundly and practically attached yourself to me. You must like me better in your dreams than when your awake," Hotchner said, his voice low and gentle.

"Yeah, I can slap the shit out of you in my dreams," you grumble, trying to get up only to be pulled back down. Hotchner's arm banded around you, holding you to him tightly. "What the fuck, Hotchner!?"

"What?" he asked, feigning innocence as a wicked smirk spread across his face.

"No. We are not fucking again," you admonish, "I can't do that again. And we were only supposed to fuck once anyways. But no. Someone had to be the alpha male."

"We both know your bratty ass likes it," Hotchner shot back. He was right. You did like it. A lot. It was easily some of the best sex you'd ever had. The man knew what he was doing but you were unwilling to admit that.

You scoffed, "do I? You're average at best."

A hand slid around your throat, starting squeeze and cut off blood flow, pushing you towards a euphoric high. Hotchner's breath was hot against your ear, his voice instantly becoming dark and seductive. "I don't tolerate liars, y/n. You've never been fucked like that in your life because you've never had someone put you in your place. And now you're fucking addicted to it. That's why your laying here letting me wrap my hand around that pretty little throat of yours and watch you lose it," Hotchner purred.

"Fuck," you gasped, closing your eyes as your blood flow was slowly constricted, making you slightly dizzy and incredibly euphoric. You could get used to Hotchner's hand choking you.

"Call me average again, y/n. If that's what you think, say it again. Say it again while I choke you," Hotchner ordered. Your throat worked on a swallow as he lets up a bit, finally letting blood rush back to your brain. You stayed quiet, giving in and silently admitting he was right. But it was sex. Just sex. After today it would all be over, and you could go about your life. You hated getting attached to people and the last person you wanted to get attached to was Hotchner. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue or are you done lying to yourself?" Hotchner asked mockingly.

"Fuck you," you mutter defiantly, unwilling to say what he wants to hear.

"I might if you keep giving me attitude," Hotchner growled, his hand starting to squeeze again, a small moan escaping you involuntarily. You opened your eyes, pupils blown and full of lust as Hotchner coaxed you towards giving into him. "Am I average to you now?" Hotchner asked darkly, his voice low and demanding and so, so dominate.