Tease ~Spencer Reid

Tease

Everything happens at once, and just as quickly as it begins, it stops.

Tick. The clock's motion is lost in your mind as you roll around with him with a passion that could only be described as explosive.

Tock. It's a battle of fire that isn't a battle of two people. It's two souls coinciding all at once and leaving Earth in the fastest hurry. It's a game, so dangerous yet so exciting.

Tick. All at once, you're pulled back to Earth when his kisses stray from their usual position on your lips. They subtly travel to that special place on your neck, a place only one person has ever visited. He marks it with passion because at the moment there is nobody that gets to do what he does to you, for you, with you.

He was going to destroy you, and you were going to let him.

Tock. The developing bruise on your neck is the least of your concerns when he continues his descent downward, moving with caution as if you were frail, a fragile item.

It's infuriating. He knows that fragile is the last thing you want. He knows it, yet here he is, putting every nerve on your body and your mind on high alert.

Tick. Those lips meet your hips, and at this point you're panting. He's too close to where you want, no need, him to be. He's playing those dangerous games he loves to play, kisses soft and light on your inner thighs, only a breath reaching the desired location before it's gone, only a memory. You know what he's doing. He knows what he's doing. You know how this works. Yet in this moment, there is nothing that stops you from running a hand through his hair and gently tugging on it, because he knows you might not survive another second of his games.

You also know what happens when you try to take matters into your own hands when it comes to him teasing you.

Tock. All of a sudden, the belt that rested on his pants disappears and makes a quick reappearance as he grabs your wrists and binds them to the headboard. His eyes are dark because he knows that even with only a few kisses, you've melted around him. He knows you too well; he knows what you love, what you hate- but most of all- what drives you crazy. 

There's no surprise that you lightly tug on the restraints, feigning upset, but you can't help the sound that leaves your lips as he looks right into your eyes. You try to beg him silently to flip a switch and give in, to stop teasing and give you what you want. The minuscule smile that he gives you makes you wonder if your silent communication was understood. He leans down to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead, a sign that your efforts were not squandered, and you get excited with a small sigh, your face flushed, excitement washing over you like a wave. However, before his lips can touch your head, he whispers in a voice so low you could've missed it if it had not been the same voice that could end you with a single syllable,

"Keep that shit up, I dare you."

Tick. A kiss and a second pass but they go unnoticed due to the fact that you won. You know him too well, and for a profiler, he seems to have missed the part where you could attract that glorious side of his, his hidden personality as he would so timidly call it. With wrists tied and breaths scattered, you almost cry as soon as you feel his mouth where you need it the most and a finger sliding into you with ease. He was finally giving you what you wanted. His mouth works in tandem with his hand, now 2 fingers deep, and you can't stop the sounds that leave you as he keeps going.

The knot building in your stomach grows tighter and tighter. At this point, your heart is racing, your eyes are almost glued shut, and your mouth utters strings of profanities as you feel yourself getting closer and closer. And closer. And closer. And closer...