Relevations

Part 6

even more spice ;)

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I wake up warmer than I've ever been, nestled between the endless expanse of my comforter. I can hear Spencer's muffled voice from outside my bedroom door.

He makes an indignant sound, protesting against whoever he was speaking to. 

"No! I'll stay here the rest of the time. A shift change leaves more potential for something to happen to Y/N. It's not a problem." 

I make out an exchange of goodbyes and then the sound of him walking back into the room. When he sees me awake, I pretend like I didn't accidentally eavesdrop on his conversation.

"What was that about?" I ask, trying for casual.

"Nothing. The rest of the team is super swamped by the case, so I'll stay here with you for the rest of the time. I hope that's not a problem." He looks at the corner of the bed frame, not meeting my eyes. For a profiler, he was a terrible liar. Why would he lie to me about this? He didn't let me sit to ponder, pulling the sheets off me and leaving me exposed to the cold air.

"Hey!" I squeal, curling into myself to preserve the little heat that remained. He took hold of my calves and I ignored the butterflies that immediately followed. The butterflies dissipate when he tugs me off the bed, tumbling onto the carpet. He's laughing, head tilted towards the ceiling, completely carefree. That's the Spencer smile I was looking for. It almost makes me forget about the rude awakening. Almost. I smirk and Spencer looks down for a moment to see the glint in my eye. He tries to run towards the door, but I get to him first. I take hold of his arms and he pushes back, and we wrestle each other all the way to the ground. I struggle for the advantage, but honestly it's not much of a feat, taking his noodly frame into account. I'm surrounded by the laughter between the two of us, and I try to assert my dominance by pushing his arms on top of his head. It's not easy to balance on his lanky build, almost falling over in the meantime. Spencer stops laughing abruptly, the smile slipping off his face. He grabs my hips, forcing them to still. I freeze.

"S-stop moving." He grits out between clenched teeth. His cheeks are flushed, the red tinge almost making its way to his nose bridge. He's not meeting my eyes, instead focusing on the dresser behind us with sudden focus. I'm confused, but only for a moment until I feel it pressing against my inner thigh. Oh. He pointedly doesn't meet my burning stare, dropping his hands from my hips. I feel a twinge of disappointment, but also a delicious burning in my lower belly. I wiggle against him, noting the satisfying O of his mouth opening. His hands make their way back onto my hips, closer to my butt.

"W-w-what are you doing?" He stutters. I circle my hips again, less subtly. A groan slips out of his lips.

"Is that the Washington Monument in your pants or are you happy to see me?" I ask between breathy pants. Upon my words, he lets his head drop to the ground. He's completely boneless, but the sound of his skull hitting my floor nears borderline concussion. But he seems fine and I have more pressing issues at hand, literally.

"We need to stop. Have you heard of transference? You don't actually want to do this." He tightens his grip on me, bringing me to a halt. His golden eyes meet mine, pupils dilated but withheld. He looks vulnerable, ashamed even. I've had enough.

"I know what transference is, alright Spence. I just want to rail you into the floor. We can be friends and have fun. Casual, right?" It's hard to make my breath come out even, heart pounding. The word friends almost catches on the tip of my tongue. Of all the things I've ever done, having a no-strings attached situation with my FBI protector, one that I might have hidden feelings for, was not my smartest move. But with the way he was looking at me, like I was the only girl in the world, I had to say anything to get him to move again. I knew he didn't want anything serious with me.

"Friends." He repeats the word, it almost sounds bitter coming out from his mouth. But then his gaze darkens and he flips us over. Suddenly my hair is pooled against the carpet and he's leaning over me. I want him to kiss my mouth, but he avoids it, sucking on the junction where my jaw meets my neck. He bites, letting it bloom into a purple mark before continuing his path downwards. He lifts up my top, lickingc down the curve of my chest, down my stomach, until he reaches where I want him most. With rough hands, he shoves aside my pants and underwear, not even bothering to take it off all the way. I feel his tongue against my slit, and then he devours me. He's acting like he has something to prove, ravenous. I buck my hips without warning, but he uses his forearm as leverage against my abdomen. It doesn't take long before I'm reaching the peak, the tight ball in my stomach unraveling. My legs are still twitching by the time he resurfaces. Another wave of arousal passes through me when I see how wet his chin and lips are. This time, he surges up for a kiss. It's sloppy but just how I want it. I can taste myself on his lips and I enjoy it more than I'd like to admit.

When I have no choice but to break away to breathe, he pushes himself against me until we're chest to chest, nose to nose. "Do all your friends make you cum like that?" His golden eyes are almost black, eyebrows furrowed. Before I can even process that question, he reaches a finger down and pushes it into me. My back arches off the carpet, eyes rolling to the top of my head. I can't even speak right now, too overwhelmed and stimulated. He adds a second finger, then a third. Before I can even brace myself, I'm hurtling towards another orgasm. I'm completely spent on the floor, my thighs shaking beyond my control. There are still lights flashing around my peripheral. Spencer sinks down to lie beneath me, breathing heavily. I let my eyes travel down his body, noting that he was still hard. In a split second I reach my hand out to take hold of him, rubbing up and down. He jerks, moan slipping from his open mouth. He watches me with a awestruck expression, eyes scrunching closed when I lick at the tip.

"You don't have to do this." He squirms at my ministrations, trying to hold back.

"I want to." I whisper, settling down on his legs and taking more of him into my mouth. He's bigger than anyone I've ever had. I relish the burn of my jaw, the ache of my throat trying to accommodate. The rest of him that I can't fit I bring both hands around, twisting in opposite directions. The sounds he is making should be illegal, sweat dripping down his brow. His hands find their way to the back of my scalp, thumbs pulling my hair back. Within moments he's calling out my name and spilling onto my tongue. I collapse onto his chest, not minding the stickiness and heat between us. 

For a moment we lie there, too overwhelmed at the sudden rush of dopamine to think. His phone interrupts the moment, buzzing against the floor. With great effort he untangles his limbs from mine and answers.

"Reid here." I smirk at how wrecked he sounds, but it falls when I notice the sudden change in demeanor. He sits up quickly.

"Already?" The expression on his face is grim.

 The call ends and he turns to face me. "There's been another murder."