[A/N: This lil slice of smut was dreamt up as what happened behind closed doors (lol i’m so funny) during Reporting for Duty. You can read that for context or just enjoy some mindless PWP :) ]
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x wife!reader
__________
You step inside Aaron’s office without bothering to knock, closing the door behind you and abruptly cutting off the raucous cheers of your friends with a smile before turning the lock with a resounding click. Without looking up from his case file, Aaron starts, “I really don’t have time for-”
“Shut up,” you cut him off plainly.
That gets his attention. Aaron sits back in his chair, deigning to look up from his work with his eyebrows raised.
“Excuse me?” His voice has a touch of a challenge in it, the one you wouldn’t dare to play with at home for fear of being punished for outright defiance.
Instead, fueled by your frustration and a responsibility to play the mother of his team, you reply evenly, “You heard me.” Stepping behind Aaron’s desk, you use the arm of his chair to turn him towards you before harshly pushing his legs apart and dropping to your knees between them.
“What are you-”
“What did I just say, Aaron?” you sigh, tone drenched in disapproval. Ignoring the confusion muddling his normally stoic features, you reach forward and unclasp his belt, your nimble fingers expertly working the button and zipper on his slacks to free his already half-hard cock. “Is this why you’re being such a dick?” you tut. “Because your dick needs some attention?”
“Y/N,” he starts, his resolve crumbling before your very eyes as you run your index finger along the prominent vein on the underside of his length. “I’m sorry about- sweetheart-” He loses his train of thought, his weak protest morphing into a stifled moan as you wrap your hand around him in earnest and coax his cock to life.
“Cat got your tongue, Aaron?” You grin up at him, twisting your wrist along his length while he watches you intently with darkening eyes. “All the blood going from that head to this one, huh?” you ask, your warm breath a whisper over his sensitive tip before you dip your tongue into the slit and moan at the taste of him.
“Baby,” he grits out, throwing his head back against the chair when you suckle greedily at the tip.
Looking up at him from beneath your lashes, you coo, “You just needed some stress relief, isn’t that right, Daddy?”
“Yes, angel, yes,” he groans, finally giving in to temptation and wrapping your ponytail around one hand, the other settling on the top of your head. “No more teasing.”
“No?” you ask innocently. “I shouldn’t be mean to you like you were to me?”
Regret momentarily overtakes the lust in his chocolate brown eyes, and Aaron’s mouth drops into a frown. “Sweetheart, I really am-”
You use his knees as leverage to lean up and press a kiss to his lips, murmuring, “I’m just fucking with you.”
His frown deepens and he starts to offer a sincere apology, but you drop back down to your knees and take him fully into your mouth, the words effectively dying on his lips. His remorse evidently forgotten, Aaron’s grip tightens in your hair as he guides you to work his cock the way he likes, a series of quick thrusts followed by a slow drag of your lips along his length.
“Haven’t been inside you in so long,” he growls, and you moan in agreement, the resulting vibration around his cock in your throat forcing him to suck in air between his teeth. “Good girl,” Aaron praises, “just like that.”
He relaxes his grip for a moment, allowing you to pull back and draw in a breath, an obscene string of spit connecting your swollen lips to the reddened tip of his cock. You give a few kitten licks to the head as one hand works the base, the other languidly massaging his balls. “I’ve missed this so much,” you confess in a breathless whisper.
“Don’t you worry, angel,” he murmurs, fingers massaging your scalp while you mouth at him hungrily, “As soon as this case is over, I’ll make up for the nights this week when you’ve only had your vibrator to take care of that sweet little pussy.”
A whimper falls past your parted lips, and you pull your hand away so you can hollow your cheeks and take him down your throat entirely, breathing deeply through your nose as tears spill over your waterline and onto his thighs.
“Stay right there, baby,” Aaron coaches, his breath coming in sharp pants now. You can feel his cock pulsing, and when you realize he’s about to spill down your throat where you won’t even get to taste him, you pull back abruptly, your moan muffled by Aaron’s cum bursting over your tongue. You swallow everything he has to offer with a content hum, only releasing him from your greedy mouth when his hand tugging on your hair forces you to pull back.
You run your thumb across your bottom lip to collect the last of his cum mixed with your saliva before sucking the digit into your mouth. Then you ask with a grin, “Got a clear head now?”
Aaron merely shakes his head at your sinful wordplay, but he can’t hide the smile on his face. Mission accomplished.
[A/N: Highly recommend listening to “Not Afraid Anymore” from Fifty Shades Darker while reading what’s under the cut 😘 Enjoy, my fellow Hotch sluts 😈🖤]
“Oracle of Quantico,” Penelope’s voices rings out clearly through the car, “speak and be heard.”
“Hey, baby girl,” Derek croons from his spot next to you in the driver’s seat, and you chime in, “Hi, Pen! Can you do some digging for me?”
“Can I- Y/N Y/L/N,” she admonishes playfully, and you share a knowing smile with Derek. “How long have you been with this team now? You know I’m a digital shovel. Give me a name, date, or a hint of nefarious activity, and I shall reveal all, my love.”
“It’s, uh, the local sheriff,” you confess through a grimace. “Wilson. Who invited us in. I think he’s involved with the sole witness we can’t seem to find. So don’t send anything to their office, just call us or Hotch, okay?”
“Oh, you smart little cookie, you’ve got it. PG out.”
Derek shakes his head before flicking on the turn signal and pulling over at the newest crime scene. “You’re sure about the picture you saw, Y/L/N?”
“No doubt,” you assure him. “I just need Garcia to find me proof that he can’t deny.”
“If it’s there to be found, she’ll find it,” he answers, turning the Suburban off and pausing with his fingers tucked into the car door handle. “But these small town cops are just gonna hate us even more once we prove your theory right.”
“Oh no,” you deadpan, “however will we go on without their respect and admiration?” You hop out of the SUV, not missing the way Derek rolls his eyes before following you across the lawn to grab a pair of gloves from the forensics team and head inside the latest victim’s house.
Several minutes later, you’re examining the contents of the shelves in the living room when your phone rings, and Penelope animatedly confirms what you suspected earlier today. You enter the bedroom where Hotch is analyzing the scene with a critical eye and gently grasp his elbow to guide him away from the primary crime scene- and earshot of Sheriff Wilson.
“What is it?” he murmurs softly, resisting the urge to pluck your bottom lip out from where your teeth are nervously gnawing on it, keenly aware of the local law enforcement’s prying eyes. When you don’t respond immediately, he prompts, “Y/N?”
“Pen and I found something,” you answer. “And you’re not gonna like it.”
You share the information with Aaron in hushed tones, and his brow grows more furrowed the longer you talk. When you finish with a deep breath, he turns on his heel to chew out the officer, but looks back at you before walking away. Taking a quick peek around to make sure you’re alone, he pecks your lips and commends your intuition with a soft smile.
If you had a tail, it would be wagging right about now.
“I don’t have to listen to this!” Sheriff Wilson explodes out of the bedroom, Hotch hot on his heels as they head toward the front yard. You follow after, fingers twitching at your side and ready to draw your gun when you see other officers taking an interest in their heated conversation, fiery eyes set on your boss- but more importantly in this moment, the man you love.
“Everybody just take it easy,” you counsel, grateful when you feel Derek’s solid form now pressing against your arm. Hotch meets the sheriff’s ire with an eerie calm, speaking too low for you to hear. An eerie calm, that is, until Wilson says something clearly so egregious that Aaron barks, “Get off my crime scene, Sheriff, before I have you charged with obstruction of justice.”
The entire neighborhood seems to fall silent; the birds cease chirping, the wind stops rustling through the trees, the local officers slink away from the altercation, and the sheriff opens his mouth to respond, but no words form on his stunned lips. He stalks off to his police cruiser in a huff, and Aaron turns back to instruct Derek to follow him and find out where the witness is.
You, on the other hand, are frozen in place, in awe of the raw power and authority emanating from your imposing man. Your erratic heartbeat thrums between your legs, and if you had even a shred less of self-respect, you would fall to your knees right now to worship Aaron like he deserves.
Instead, you swallow down the saliva pooling in your mouth at the phantom taste of him on your tongue and follow him back into the house to continue cataloguing the crime scene.
Your hunger will have to wait.
—————
“Fuck, I’m so glad to be leaving this town tomorrow,” Aaron confesses as the hotel room door clicks shut behind you. He turns to find you blindly following him further into the room, a vacant expression on your face, though your eyes track his every move. “Honey, what is it?” His brows draw together in concern while he tugs at his tie. You watch his fingers work their way into the knot to undo it, and your tongue darts out to wet your lips while the embers that’ve been burning in your lower belly for days flare to life. “Honey?” Aaron tries again, genuinely growing worried now. “Do you feel sick? Or did one of those assholes say something to you to get back at me? Just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll-”
“No, Aaron,” you finally blurt out. “I’m just- I need you,” you confess softly, wringing your hands.
He cocks an eyebrow, and you know immediately that he understands your meaning but is choosing to toy with you now. “I’m right here, sweetheart.”
“No, Aaron,” you repeat, more forcefully this time. “I need you.” Finally, after days of suppressing your desire, you snap and push him to sit on the edge of the bed so you can straddle his lap, a soft gasp escaping your parted lips when your skirt rides up enough to let you feel the heat of him through your already wet panties. You start grinding on him in earnest, rocking your hips against the zipper of his slacks in search of some kind of reprieve from the persistent ache between your legs. It’s not enough, and you tell him as much amid a whine.
“Oh god,” you keen breathily, “oh fuck, I need more.” His tie already loosened, you tug the loop of fabric over his head and toss it behind you, then pop open the top few buttons of his shirt and mouth hungrily at his chest, moaning at the salt on his skin from chasing down the unsub earlier. You suck a few possessive marks into his skin, whimpering at the feeling of him growing hard beneath you from your repetitive motions, and slide your hands into his hair for a better grip.
Then you feel Aaron’s strong hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you back and forcing you to detach your swollen lips from his chest, now marred with teeth marks from your desperation. He tucks his index finger under your chin and lifts your head up to find tears welling in your eyes and your bottom lip trembling. “Why are you pouting, sweet girl?” The condescension in his tone and the weight of the power he holds over you sends another wave of arousal pooling between your already slick thighs. “Are you feeling empty?”
You blink slowly, and traitorous tears roll down your cheeks when you drop your head into a nod with a pathetic sniffle. He takes pity on you and slides his thumb into your mouth, allowing you to suck on it and gratefully swirl your tongue around the thick digit as you start grinding on him again. Then he runs his thumb down your chin leaving a cooling trail of your own spit on your heated skin before dipping his hand under your skirt to press his thumb against the embarrassingly wet spot on your panties. Your head falls back and your mouth drops open, but no sound comes out as your brain short circuits. You’re practically vibrating at this point, so utterly desperate for him, and he laughs darkly at your need which only serves to turn you on even more. “How long have you been thinking about this, hm?”
“Since-” You swallow down the saliva flooding your mouth before mustering up the resolve to continue. “Since you yelled at the sheriff,” you confess softly, and he chuckles again.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Aaron tuts. “That was days ago.”
You let out a startled squeak when he roughly grabs your hips and deposits you on the bed without warning. His large hands tuck into the dip of your shirt and then he’s ripping it open, buttons flying in all directions. He flips you over with no semblance of tenderness and you let out a gasp, one of his hands unclasping your bra while the other tugs down the zipper at the back of your pencil skirt.
Suddenly you’re on your back again, and within the span of a few seconds you’re laid bare before a fully clothed Aaron, sans tie and the few buttons of his shirt you managed to fumble open earlier. You stare up at his towering figure in awe, your breath coming in short pants that match the heaving of his chest, the only sign that he’s as turned on as you are.
Then he’s undoing his belt buckle, and your walls flutter at the thought of what’s coming next. “Yes, oh yes, please, please, please,” you beg breathily, squeezing your eyes shut and fisting the sheets at the telltale sound of Aaron’s zipper opening.
He slides his cock through your folds to gather your wetness then presses just the tip in, and you release a downright pornographic moan at the sensation. Aaron ever so gently rests his hand on your throat and squeezes once to get your attention, waiting for your bleary eyes to focus on his face before shushing you softly. “Everyone’s rooms are nearby and they need to rest, so you have to be quiet, okay, angel? Can you do that for me?”
Somewhere in the back of your fuzzy brain, you realize he didn’t say anything about caring if your team can hear how much pleasure he wrings out of you. He just wants to ensure your friends can get their much needed sleep after a trying case.
But then you hone in on the throbbing between your legs again, and you remember he’s waiting for an answer. You’re so desperate for him to be inside you that you’d say yes to anything he asked right now, so you nod vigorously, biting down on your lip and squeezing your eyes shut once more. He smiles proudly and says, “That’s my good girl.” Aaron presses his other hand to your lower belly and finally, finally slides into you agonizingly slowly while reverently professing, “You look so good when you’re full of me.”
You’re helpless to do anything but nod again because he’s right, of course he’s right. This is when you feel the most beautiful, feel entirely whole and complete, when you’re being worshipped by and getting to worship Aaron Hotchner.
You let out a whimper that your partner intuits as a plea for him to move, and he begins slowly thrusting in and out of your wet heat, the hand on your stomach keeping you keenly aware of just how big he is with each drive of his hips. Aaron squeezes your throat gently, and somewhere in the back of your mind you know that means he wants your eyes on him. You lift your heavy-lidded gaze to his, weighed down by lust and love, to find him watching your every micro-expression and easily reading your reactions. He can feel what angle, what speed, what pressure makes your body sing, and he hits all the right spots as he gradually picks up his pace. The bite of his metal belt buckle against the back of your thigh with each roll of his hips reminds you that he’s still fully dressed while you’re stark naked and completely at his mercy, and the power dynamic has you clenching around him, doing everything you can to be as close to him as possible.
By this point, you’re a hiccuping, crying, desperate mess, and when Aaron releases his hold on your throat to grip your hip instead, you choke out a plea of, “Harder.”
“More, baby?” he asks between pants, and you whimper, “Please, daddy, please.”
Aaron lifts your ankle onto his shoulder to get an even deeper angle, pressing his hand down more forcefully against your stomach so he can feel himself moving inside of you with every thrust. He picks up speed until you can’t even cry his name anymore, just little gasps knocking out of you each time his hips meet yours.
Seeking better leverage, he pauses his worship of your body to slide you higher up on the bed so he can brace himself against the wall with his right arm. The change in angle and power of his thrusts has you seeing stars, your hands fisting in his hair in an attempt to anchor yourself to the real world. “My good girl,” he punctuates each word with a hard thrust, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead and a few errant strands of hair falling into his face.
You can’t say anything back, rendered dumbstruck by his expert ministrations, so Aaron carries on with his adoration. “In the field and in my bed, hm? My good little girl. All mine.”
His words are getting breathier by the minute, morphing into whimpers of pleasure that mimic your own, and you start crying harder knowing he’s about to really fill you up. He leans down to lick your tears off your cheeks and you shudder underneath him, raking your nails down his back and clinging to him for dear life.
When you feel his thick cock twitch inside of you, you start babbling, “Yes, yes, yes, give it to me, daddy. Please, oh god, please fucking breed me.” Your desperate command turns out to be Aaron’s undoing, and the feeling of him painting your walls with a surprised gasp has you clamping down around him, every nerve in your body firing at once as an indescribable orgasm rips through you. Despite the muscles in his legs spasming, Aaron continues fucking you through it, evidently trying to make good on your request.
Spent and satiated, Aaron eases out of you, giving you a quick cleanup and shedding himself of his clothes before climbing into bed to help you back down to earth. He pulls you into his lap and dries your tears, dotting gentle kisses along your cheeks, neck, and shoulders. You wrap your limbs around his body, clinging to him, and Aaron rubs your back until you calm down and your hiccups subside to deep breaths instead.
Ever so quietly, he asks, “Better, my baby?” You nod your head where it’s resting in the crook of his neck and murmur, “Thank you, Aaron. I needed that. Needed you so badly.”
“Anything you need, princess, you know that.” There's a thoughtful pause and then, “We’ll talk about that… new thing later. After a good night’s rest.” You’re grateful he turned off the light before getting into bed because a blush warms your cheeks at the memory. Even though he can’t see your face, he knows you’re getting shy and emits a soft laugh. “If you couldn’t tell, I loved it,” Aaron reassures you, then presses his lips to your temple.
He settles back into the bed with you in his arms, running his fingers through your hair to further calm your breathing. “Now get some sleep,” he orders gently. “If you really want me to make you a mama, you need to rest before we practice again tomorrow morning.”
Shy(but a bit bratty) ! Sub! BAU! Reader x Mean! Dom! Hotch : Cockwarming
R knew not to try and mess around with Hotch but decided she wasn't patient enough to wait for back up before going into the unsubs workplace.
Hotch decides to teach her patient by making her sit unmoving on his cock for almost the whole day without fucking her while he works on reports.
Edging her every time she moves with a vibe.
And of course, she moves a lotttt at first even though he is edging her but then she just wants to cum and Hotch knows this so even when the day ends and he fucks her, she doesn't get to cum at all.
Oh I love your brain !! I modified just a bit to get it out in a reasonable time bc I couldn’t wait on this one 😮💨 But I might have to expand on it at a later date… 👀
—————
Patience is a virtue.
It’s just not one you possess.
“Aaron,” you speak his name on a sigh, trying to control the waver in your voice for fear of it being interpreted as a whine. “Please? It won’t happen again. I promise.”
He doesn’t deign to respond to your most recent round of whinging, instead clicking his pen closed and dropping it on the stack of reports he’s been meticulously working through for hours in exchange for the remote by his coffee mug. He presses a single button, and the answering vibration is a welcome relief. Wordlessly, without so much as a glance your way, he returns his focus to his case file.
Your open legs, perched on either side of Aaron’s thick thighs, quiver at the stimulation against your overly sensitive clit. You can’t tell if it’s been minutes or hours of this torture, but that band deep in your belly has been coiled and ready to snap since Aaron called you into his office and sat you down on his cock with the promise of making you learn your lesson earlier today.
Squeezing the edge of the wooden desk in front of you in a white-knuckled grip, you try to control your breathing. Maybe if he doesn’t hear you, he’ll let you cum this time.
“No.”
The vibrator turns off and yet another orgasm dissipates into the ether, eluding you.
“You think I don’t know what you’re playing at?” The low rumble of his voice from behind you sends a shiver racing down your spine. “I taught you everything you know about profiling.”
“Aaron, please-”
“Which, again,” he cuts you off with a slap to your inner thigh that forces you to gasp and involuntarily rock against him, “means you should’ve known better than to enter that building alone.”
Hot tears well up in your eyes, a mix of desperation for release and immense guilt at the clear disapproval in his voice threatening to send them spilling down your reddened cheeks. “I’m sorry, really, I am.”
“No, you’re not,” he counters in an even tone, shifting his hips beneath you in a way that has his thick cock dragging torturously along your walls. You let out a whimper, bracing your hands against his knees but not daring to move any further for fear of retaliation. His hand skims along a strand of your hair before tucking it behind your ear, then he grabs your chin roughly to force you to face him, fingers digging into your cheeks. He lowers his mouth to yours but stops just shy of a kiss, determined to deprive you of any tenderness before murmuring darkly, “But you will be.”
[A/N: So I ended up envisioning reader as Aaron’s sugar baby from Dinner and a Show who’s now graduated and officially moved in as His Girl :’) Can definitely be read as a standalone, but they just seemed to fit this one!
Pls enjoy this smut with the tiniest hint of plot that magically flew out of my fingers this evening (when I should have been studying l o l)]
You love your boyfriend. Adore him, really. Infatuation is unhealthy, sure, and you’ll tell Jack as such when he gets to the age where he starts becoming interested in dating, but you can’t help that your sun rises and sets with his dad. The man is the ultimate protector, partner, father, and lover. He’s everything you could’ve ever dreamed of and more.
But right now, you kind of want to strangle him with one of his stupid ties.
“Aaron,” you groan, sounding about as old as your little Hotchner currently is (eight, by the way, and suddenly too cool to snuggle with you during movie nights). Taking several plates out of the dishwasher, you stack them together and place them in the cabinet before trying again. “Baby, you just got home last night. Can’t you take one day off to spend with your girl?”
“Honey,” he sighs, mouth molding into a frown as he takes the clean mugs from you and arranges them on their designated shelf. “I just need to finish up some paperwork and then a quick consult with the New York field office.”
“No, no, I get it,” you respond softly, closing the dishwasher before crossing your arms and jutting out your lower lip with a dramatic sniffle to top it off. “I see where your priorities lie.”
“Hey now,” he coos, giving in to your little charade. With two short strides, he’s engulfing you in his arms, pressing you against his chest as his fingers run through your hair. “At least I’m working from home, right?” His voice rumbles through you from where you’re tucked into his large frame and you smile at the sensation, fisting his navy blue t-shirt in your hands and trying to draw him even closer as you take a big inhale of his intoxicating smell.
“Mm, I guess so,” you concede. “It’s just that…” You trail off, letting your hands roam further south until they’re planted firmly on his ass.
“Oh,” your boyfriend chuckles warmly, the sound sending a thrill through you. He hoists you up onto the counter before nuzzling his nose into the curve of your neck and you let out a whimper. “Jack’s with his aunt so you want to play, hm?”
You throw your head back to grant him more access, and the very fact that you can feel Aaron’s hand already in place to protect you from the wooden cabinet sends a flood of warmth between your legs. He presses a line of languid kisses along the hollow of your throat, and you begin panting in earnest. “Please, my love,” you whine, tugging at the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Missed you so much.”
You feel two fingers prodding at your lips as he continues his assault on your neck, and you immediately open your mouth to let him in. The distinct taste that is Aaron bursts across your tongue, and you release a wanton moan as you swirl your tongue around the thick digits. Drawing your legs up, you cross your ankles behind his back and shamelessly rut against him, a high-pitched keen escaping past your lips when he rolls his hips in tandem with yours.
Aaron’s cellphone rings in his office, sounding a million miles away and yet loud enough to pierce your bubble. He detaches his lips from your neck with a groan, reaching behind his back to unhook your ankles. Pressing his mouth against yours in a tender kiss, he murmurs, “Just a couple hours, sweet girl. Be good for me, okay?”
You watch in utter disbelief as boyfriend Aaron morphs into Unit Chief Hotchner before your very eyes with a quick adjustment of his grey sweatpants and clearing of his throat. You’re still seated on the countertop, panting and flustered as all hell, when you hear his voice carrying from the other room, low and gruff and oh so sexy. “Hotchner.”
You decide in that moment that you most definitely will not be good for him.
You hop off the counter and pad down the hallway into the master bedroom, digging through the top drawer of the dresser until you find what you’re looking for- Aaron’s favorite purple lingerie set. Shucking off your pajama shorts and oversized t-shirt, you slip into the lacy fabric, appreciating the way it hugs your every curve in the full length mirror by your closet. You judiciously apply your cherry blossom-scented lotion to your freshly shaved legs and splash a touch of perfume along your pulse points for good measure. After all, your perfect man is ultimately just that: a man.
Satisfied with your work, you snag the button down Aaron had discarded last night and drape it over your body as the finishing touch. Tugging the collar tighter around you, you take a deep whiff of his cologne, and the smell of him alone sends another wave of arousal coursing through your veins. You continue down the hall, pausing at the threshold of his office to ensure he’s off the phone before knocking on the doorframe. “Aaron?”
“Yes, angel, I- christ.” He swivels in his chair to face you, the rest of his sentence catching in his throat at the sight of you, and your lips quirk up in a grin.
“Remember the day I bought this for you?” He swallows thickly and drops his head into a nod, a gleam in his darkening eyes. Taking slow, deliberate steps toward him, you shimmy his shirt over your shoulders until it bunches at the crook of your elbows and stand before him on display. “You remember what we did that night?”
“Of course I do,” he says, his voice a tantalizing growl. “Do you remember when I told you to be good for me ten minutes ago?”
You hum, tapping your index finger against your chin as if in deep thought before responding, “Mm mm. Nope.”
His jaw ticks ever so slightly, and he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. You can see him warring between rewarding your patience while he was away and punishing your blatant defiance now. Finally, he makes up his mind and pats the thick muscle of his thigh twice.
You cross the remainder of the room between you with a giggle, happily clambering into his lap and letting out a moan of delight when your aching core brushes against the growing bulge in his sweatpants. He traces the lace along the swell of your breasts with one finger, and you arch up into his expert touch. “What exactly do you want, naughty thing?”
You mouth hungrily at his neck, sucking at the soft skin there and moaning at his taste. Aaron winds his hand around your neck, tightening his grip as leverage to pull you back and you cry out, more so in pleasure than the tinge of pain. “I have to scruff you like a fucking cat to get you to focus,” he laughs darkly, the sound instantly making you feel small and submissive. He releases you from his hold, instead shifting his hand to cup your face and allowing you to nuzzle against his palm. “Answer my question.”
“Want to feel you, Daddy. Want you to fill me up, please, please, I need it.”
“Do you want me to fill you up here?” He slides his thumb past your parted lips and you suck on it greedily. Then he runs the wet digit down your body, between the valley of your breasts, along your stomach, swirling his thumb around your button once before pressing the pad of it against the wet spot of your panties. You let out a needy whimper and he murmurs, “Or do you want me to fill you up here, Princess?”
“Well,” you manage to puff out between your panting as you rut against the pressure of his finger, “you work so hard, Daddy. I thought I could be a good girl and keep your- ugh fuck- cock warm while you finish.”
“How thoughtful of you,” he croons softly, and you glow with pride. “Do you think you can sit still for that long?” You nod eagerly and abruptly halt the rocking of your hips, determined to show him just how patient you can be. “That’s my good girl,” he murmurs against your mouth, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth until you cry out. “Fuck, I love you.”
Your heart swells at the unbidden confession. Carding your fingers through his hair, you kiss the tip of his nose before nipping at it and muttering back, “I love you more.”
He hits you with one of those knee-buckling, thousand-watt smiles before shaking his head, the dominant mask falling back into place. “Sit up for me, Princess.”
You raise yourself up on your knees on either side of his legs, just enough for Aaron to shift his sweatpants down and free his hardened length. Your mouth waters instantly at the sight, and without breaking eye contact with him, you let your saliva fall past your lips and onto the head of his cock before spreading it with your hand. His head falls back and his mouth drops open at the feeling of your soft skin on his aching hard on. Virtual sex is a life saver when Aaron’s across the country on a case, but nothing, nothing beats the real thing. “I need to be inside of you now, baby,” he rasps out, and you’re quick to oblige, pulling your slick panties aside and sinking down on his length. You let out a sound that can only be described as pornographic, and you feel his dick swelling even more inside you in response. Taking a stuttered breath, you tighten your walls around him experimentally and gasp when he grips your hips with a sudden ferocity. “Don’t.”
Nestling down further in his lap, you lock your arms behind his back and tuck your face into his neck. “I’ll be good, I promise.”
He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, and then you hear the telltale shuffling of loose papers on the desk. Your eyelids flutter closed, and you fall into a dreamless sleep consumed by everything that is Aaron…
“Aaron.”
“Aaron?”
“I’m here, just grabbing the case file.”
You rouse from your nap to the sound of tinny voices coming through Aaron’s work laptop, and you’re overcome by a feeling of emptiness. Blinking away the haze of sleep, you find yourself on the couch in your boyfriend’s office underneath a plush blanket. The blinds are open, soft midday light filtering into the room obscuring your view of the faces on the call. The voices are unfamiliar to you as well, and you recall Aaron mentioning the New York field office. Twisting your wrist to get a look at the time, you grumble, “A couple hours, my ass.” Slipping out from underneath the blanket, you ease onto all fours on the floor to stay out of the camera’s view. You crawl across the short distance to Aaron’s desk, trying to squeeze into the space between his legs and blushing when you hear him clear his throat. He rolls back a few inches so you can settle underneath the desk, then raises one eyebrow in question when you look up at him, doe-eyed and innocent. You mime zipping your lips and he nods, then returns his attention to the screen and presses a hand against his face to cover his mouth before confirming, “I’m muted. What are you doing?”
“Taking what’s mine,” you state matter-of-factly, pulling his chair further under the desk before tugging his sweats down enough to reach your coveted prize.
“Y/N,” he growls low, a warning.
“Focus on your consult, SSA Hotchner,” you simper, licking a languid stripe along the vein on the underside of his cock. He takes a measured breath before you hear his voice, calm as ever. “Yes, we have some notes on the profile. It’s likely your unsub has a previous history of…”
You let his words fade into the background, focusing all of your attention on sucking his cock as slowly and quietly as possible. The dull ache between your legs and your extended nap mean you decidedly did not get the reunion fuck you deserve, and your goal now is to push Aaron’s resolve to its limits. He wants to make you wait? Two can play at that game.
Starting at the base of his cock, you press gentle, teasing kisses along his length until you reach the tip, then suckle at the head and dip your tongue into the slit to gather his precum. It takes every ounce of your willpower to keep quiet, especially given how utterly desperate you’ve been for a taste of Aaron since the moment he left for this last case. Above you, papers rustle as he flips through the case file and continues lamenting about sociopath this and devolving nature of the crimes that, but his dominant hand makes its way under the desk to grasp your hair tightly and pull. You lower your mouth further onto his cock to muffle your cry of pain and Aaron’s hips stutter, forcing the tip to brush against the back of your throat. Tears spring to your eyes and you dig your nails into the meat of Aaron’s thighs, willing yourself to tamp down the cough threatening to escape.
He shifts his hand to the back of your head, holding you down as he subtly shifts his hips and effectively fucks your throat. The power he holds over you coupled with the assault on your senses clouds your mental acuity, and you let one of your hands fall between your legs to pleasure yourself as Aaron uses your body. The heel of your palm brushes over your sensitive clit, and you moan reflexively. It’s not quite audible, but the vibration has Aaron’s cock twitching against the column of your throat and you know that he’s close.
“Excuse me for one moment, let me just see what has my dog whining.”
You process his words just as Aaron pulls back from the desk, his dick slipping from between your lips as you actually let out a whine at the intimation that you’re his bitch. Tugging his pants down further, you kiss along his muscular legs, nearly delirious with need.
“Y/N,” he snaps, and you look up at him with wide eyes, absolutely ruined. He beckons you closer with one finger and you move forward, crying out sharply when the palm of his hand makes contact with the soft skin of your cheek. “Oh fuck,” you moan wantonly. “Do that again.”
“You’re such a little whore,” he laughs, equal parts awed and exasperated. “We’re almost done here. Be good for me and then I’ll fuck you the way you deserve, Princess. Deal?”
A smile threatens to split your face in half and you nod eagerly, adding a, “Yes, sir,” for good measure.
“Good girl,” he praises softly, caressing your reddened cheek. “Open.” You oblige happily, taking in a deep breath through your nose as Aaron settles back in your throat underneath the desk. “And for Christ’s sake, behave.” You hear two clicks of the mouse and realize he’s put his camera and mic back on. Sitting back on your haunches, you rest your cheek against Aaron’s thigh and slowly, lovingly bob your head along his length, closing your eyes and savoring the taste of him as his soothing voice fills the room. His deft fingers massage your scalp and you imitate the motion with your own hands, one kneading his free thigh, the other caressing his balls. Finally, mercifully, you hear a chorus of thank you for your time and we look forward to working with the BAU again, and Aaron’s laptop clicks shut with a sense of finality.
“Okay, baby girl,” he calls, “come on out.”
You crawl out from under the desk, licking your lips at the image before you, a jungle cat on the prowl. “Can we play now, Daddy?”
He lazily fists his cock, clearly toying with you, and you watch his every movement with rapt attention. “I have half a mind to punish you for that stunt you pulled, you know.”
“I won’t say no to a good punishment,” you simper, nuzzling against his leg and obediently sucking on the head of his cock when he guides it toward your eager mouth.
“But,” he continues, “I made you a deal.” Aaron draws in a sharp breath when you redouble your efforts, sucking harder and moaning unabashedly now that you don’t have to remain quiet anymore. “Baby,” he pants, “fuck, Princess, I-” The rest of his thought dies on his lips and his jaw falls slack as he finally gives in to you. You draw out his release for as long as you can, happy little mewls from you at the taste of him on your tongue joining Aaron’s filthy praise. He takes your hand and guides you up toward him, your legs on either side of his as you straddle his lap in an exact image of where you started this morning.
Cradling your face in his large hands, Aaron pulls you in for a deep kiss, a possessive growl rumbling deep in his throat at the way you melt against him. “I hope you enjoyed your nap, little one,” he murmurs, running his fingers through your hair before pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth, “because that’s the only sleep you’re getting today.”
Of all the incredible one liners Rossi says to Hotch in the 187 years of this show, “I need you to dominate me because it gives me direction and a purpose in life” is pretty high up there imo
English has always been your favorite subject. There’s something magical about the way twenty-six letters woven together in just the right combination can have a story coming to life, painting a picture behind your eyelids as your brain processes the lines on the page before you. It’s why you applied for graduate school as an English major.
But if your professor uses the phrase duality of man one more time, you might just blow your brains out.
You find yourself doodling random patterns in the corner of your notebook as your thoughts drift to a certain brooding brunette who would likely have much to say about Dostoevsky’s protagonist.
The unsub is a white male, twenty to thirty years old, with narcissistic personality disorder who struggles to reconcile his mediocre place in society with what he believes to be an above-average intelligence.
Your phone buzzing on the desk beside you breaks you out of your reverie, and you flip it over to see a notification from your bank. A grin threatens to split your face in half as you open your messaging app and scroll down to AH 🖤.
Were your ears ringing? I was just thinking about you 😍
Before you have a chance to lock your phone, the speech bubble pops up and taunts you with its three flashing dots. It disappears, reappears, and then your phone buzzes once more.
I know you have class. Pay attention.
Says the guy who just distracted me with a nice little pre-weekend deposit
Is that your way of saying thank you, brat?
You feel a familiar heat prickling the back of your neck and take a quick look around to make sure your classmates are focused on the lecture. Hiding your phone in your lap, you hunt through recent pictures until you find a specific photo: a shot of your body from the neck down, clad in a lacy red set that barely counts as underwear. Attaching the image to your text, you shoot back a response.
No Daddy... THIS is 🥰
Shuffling from all around you alerts you to the fact that class has mercifully ended, and you stand to gather your things, slipping your phone into the back pocket of your jeans. You make plans to meet up with a classmate at a coffee shop on Sunday to peer edit each other’s final papers for the course, then start your trek to the parking lot. As you approach your car, your phone begins vibrating incessantly and you tuck it between your ear and shoulder after accepting the call. “House of Hotchner’s whores, how may I serve you today?”
You receive an exasperated sigh in response, but you can hear the grin behind it. “What if it wasn’t me on the other end, hm?”
Climbing into the driver’s seat, you give your phone a moment to connect to the Bluetooth system before firing back, “No one else calls me, old man.”
“This old man can easily revoke the allowance he just gave you.” He speaks in a low murmur, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s making this illicit call from his office.
“Wow,” you laugh warmly, “you just went from Daddy to Dad in record time.”
“Please, for both of our sakes, don’t ever say that again.” Another laugh punches out of you and you relent, “Deal.” Then, after a beat, “Are you still coming over tonight?”
He sighs again, this time with true remorse. “No, angel, I’m sorry. We just got a case out in LA.”
“Alright, go save the world, Mister Unit Chief,” you tease. “I’ll do the hard work of keeping you entertained while you’re gone.”
His voice drops even lower, now tinged with a gruffness that sends a bolt of heat through your body. “Thank you, Princess. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“I know you will,” you purr, knowing that the longer wait will make your reunion all the more satisfying. “Be safe.”
“Always.” You go to hang up the phone but pause when you hear him take a breath. “Princess?”
“Hm?”
“Get something purple this time.”
_____
Several hours and a stupid amount of money to be spent in one shopping spree later, you trundle up the stairs to your second floor apartment, arms laden with shopping bags. You let yourself in before closing and locking the door behind you, then head down the hallway to drop your purchases off in your bedroom. After a luxurious bath to wash the grime of the week away, you pull on one of Aaron’s t-shirts from your steadily growing collection and are preparing to settle on the couch to peruse takeout options when a knock sounds at the door. As if on cue, your phone lights up on the nightstand with a text.
Dinner’s on me, angel. Sorry I’m not there to enjoy it with you.
A pleasant warmth settles in your bones at Aaron’s thoughtfulness, and you open the door to find a delivery from your favorite Vietnamese restaurant and a bottle of Moscato to accompany it. After getting comfortable with your dinner on the couch, you hunt through your rented movies for the Fifty Shades trilogy and press play before typing out a response.
Keep spoiling me like this and I won’t know how to act
You’re my Princess- You deserve to be spoiled.
A giggle bubbles out of you and you resist the urge to kick your feet like a teenager with a raging crush. Instead, you opt for a much more dignified reply.
Thank you Daddy 🥰
With twenty minutes remaining in the sequel, feeling emboldened by several glasses of wine and the content playing before you, you send another text to Aaron.
I can’t wait to show you what I spent all your hard earned money on today 😘
He has yet to answer by the time the credits are rolling and you recall that, much to your dismay, he’s three hours behind you and probably still at the local precinct. Deciding that you’ll read to pass the time, you finish off your wine and put your leftovers in the fridge before heading to your bedroom. You open up a video call on your laptop and send an invitation to join to Aaron, then settle back against your pillow with your latest novel.
A few chapters in, you recognize that trying to distract yourself is a feeble affair when your eyes gloss over the same paragraph several times in a row. Giving up on the book, you place it on your nightstand and let your hands wander your body just as Aaron’s would. Wearing his shirt has you cocooned in his distinct smell, and you can’t help but close your eyes and imagine he’s there with you, touching you, teasing you. Desperately wishing it was his large hands caressing your curves instead of your own, you gently cup your breasts and roll your nipples between your fingers, hips arching upward of their own accord in search of some friction. You ignore the budding heat between your thighs, continuing to play with your nipples and enjoying the way the soft fabric of Aaron’s shirt heightens every sensation. Before long, soft pants are falling past your lips and your panties are soaked with your arousal.
One hand comes down to grip the edge of Aaron’s shirt as the other dips beneath the band of your underwear. You take it slow, drawing languid circles around your core, and you can practically hear the low rumble of his voice against the shell of your ear, telling you that You haven’t earned it yet. Sliding your middle finger between your folds, you try to imagine it’s Aaron’s thick cock, right where you want it but not giving in. He loves to watch you fall apart before he’s even inside you, letting your slick gather along his cock, the tip nudging against your clit now and then. The very thought has a low whine building in your throat, and you brush the pad of your finger over your sensitive button to draw out the fantasy.
Unable and unwilling to deny yourself any longer, you hook your thumbs into your panties and shimmy them down your legs, kicking them off across the room. Your middle finger circles your nub once more, and then you ease two fingers into your core until your knuckles stop you from pressing any further. You whimper at the sensation, pleased with the fullness but frustrated it’s just not right, aching for Aaron to work his magic on your body. Letting out a determined huff, you clamp down on your bottom lip and begin working your fingers in and out of your pussy in earnest, your other hand coming down to collect your slick and spread it over your nub. You dig your heels into the mattress, raising your hips to try and mimic the angle of Aaron fucking into you, steadily increasing the speed of your fingers as pathetic little mewls fall past your parted lips. Your whines turn into full blown moans, and your cries are rising in pitch when you realize you’re no longer alone.
“Got tired of waiting for me, huh, Princess?”
Putting a pause on your self-care, you blink the haze of arousal out of your bleary eyes and find Aaron seated at a desk, presumably in his hotel room. His tie hangs loosely around his neck, the top two buttons of his crisp white button down undone and showing off a tantalizing sliver of chest. His mouth is set in a hard line in an attempt at disapproval, but even through the slightly grainy image you can spot the gleam in his smoldering eyes.
Using your foot to nudge the laptop between your legs, you give Aaron a clear view of your fingers resuming their path of easing in and out of your soaking wet pussy. You simper, “Just getting warmed up for you, Daddy.”
“What a good girl,” he breathes out, gaze locked on your core. “Turn towards me, let me see all of you.”
You obediently change positions, scooting your laptop back so he can see a majority of your body, and his breath hitches when he spots the shirt you have on. “Is that mine?”
You draw your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes fluttering shut as your middle finger circles your clit, and nod. “I hope you don’t- fuck- mind. Smells like you.”
“Whatever makes my little girl happy,” he says, and you nearly purr at the name. When you open your eyes again, you pout at the sight of him still in the same position. He picks up on your disappointment immediately and asks, “What is it?”
“Can you-” Your cheeks grow warm with a sudden shyness and you duck your head before softly requesting, “Wanna see you, Daddy.”
He raises one eyebrow at you, arms crossed, fixing you with that look. “Daddy’s right here for you to see. Use your words and tell me what you really want.”
A shudder races down your spine at his commanding tone coupled with your thumb brushing over your clit, and you suddenly find your voice. “What I really want is your fingers in my mouth and your fat cock in my pussy but-” A wanton moan interrupts your thought as your fingers curl against the perfect spot. “Right now I’d settle for just seeing your cock.”
“Was that so hard?”
You smirk at him as he rises from the desk and moves to the bed, settling in a reflection of your position with the laptop beside him. “Not as hard as you are right now.”
“Bold of you to assume, little one.” He laughs at how quickly you’ve adopted your brazen attitude, the sound rich and warm as it fills every corner of your bedroom.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” you challenge, slowly drawing your fingers out of your pussy.
You hear him unzip his work slacks, the familiar sound sending yet another bolt of heat to your core, before he growls out, “I can’t.”
“Oh fuck,” you breathe out, utterly mesmerized by the sight before you. Aaron is lazily fisting his rock hard cock, pausing to swipe his thumb over the head and gather the precum there before gliding his hand down to the base and gently squeezing until the vein on the underside is pulsing and your mouth is watering. Your body responds instinctively, walls clenching around nothing and desperate to be filled, your clit throbbing with need. Gathering the fresh wave of arousal dripping down your thighs, you press your fingers back into your hole and let out a frustrated cry. “It’s not enough.”
“Look at me,” Aaron says, his voice gentle but commanding, always in tune with what you need. You lift your gaze to meet his on the screen and he continues, “You’re not going to bed until we get you to cum, do you understand?”
You nod, and he praises you with a small smile. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Princess,” he begins, your eyes tracking his every movement as he slowly works his hand over his length. “You’re going to put three fingers in your mouth- go ahead, do it now,” he encourages, waiting for you to place your index, middle, and ring fingers in your mouth before continuing, “and get them nice and wet for me. Close your eyes and imagine they’re mine. Can you do that for me, baby girl?”
You close your eyes and mumble an affirmative around your fingers while your head drops into a nod, the taste of your own arousal bursting over your tongue as you swirl it around the digits. “Such a good girl,” Aaron coos, and you once again clench around nothing at the pride woven through his words. “You just love having my fingers in your mouth, don’t you?”
“Mhm,” you cry, the sound muffled by your digits as drool slips out between the corner where your lips meet.
“Now take your fingers out of your mouth and let me see those beautiful eyes.” You do as he says, eager to please, and Aaron lets out a ragged, “Fuck,” at the sight of your lust-blown pupils framed by delicate lashes. “Slide your fingers into that pretty little pussy all the way, then hold still for me. Just like when I’m fucking you, yeah, Princess?”
Your mouth drops open and you take a shuddering breath at the stretch. “Now what?”
“You’re going to watch me and do exactly what I do. Your fingers, my cock. Got it?” A slow grin spreads across your face and you nod eagerly, understanding his premise. He slides his fist up the length of his cock and you ease your fingers out of your pussy, perfectly matching his unhurried pace. “Good girl,” Aaron breathes out, “just like that.”
He slowly builds up to a steady rhythm, the sound of his fist repeatedly meeting his pelvis joining with your fingers pulsing in and out of your sopping cunt to form a depraved symphony. You watch your lover on the other side of the country, transfixed by the way his typical stoicism is dissolving before you into guttural moans and hedonistic cries of your name. He bites down on his lip, determined to not break eye contact with you as you both fight the urge to squeeze your eyes shut from pure pleasure. Aaron tugs his tie off and tosses it away, then hurriedly unbuttons his shirt, all the while working his fist over his length. Even in the dim lighting of his hotel room, you can see the sheen of sweat coating his skin, and saliva pools in your mouth at the thought of running your tongue over every delicious inch of him when he returns home. You tell him as much, in vivid detail, and he releases a low groan that reverberates throughout your room.
“I’m so close, Daddy,” you whine, and you see his pace beginning to falter as well.
“I know you are, Princess. Doing so well for me,” he pants, now squeezing the base of his cock on every downstroke. With Aaron, you always come first- in every sense of the word. “I need you to cum for me. Need you to clench that pretty pussy around my cock so I can fill you up. That’s what you want, isn’t it, baby?”
“Fuck yes,” you cry out, feeling your walls clamp down around your fingers in response to his words. “Gonna be a good girl for you, Daddy,” you babble, “always wanna be your good girl.” Your entire body tenses and your breath stutters in your throat just before the coil deep in your belly snaps and a desperate cry of Aaron’s name bounces off the walls of your bedroom. His moans grow louder and longer, his cock feverishly thrusting up into his hand until he finally gives in to his orgasm, thick ropes of cum coating his hand and stomach.
Lying back in bed to give yourself a few beats to calm your erratic breathing, you quip, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so jealous of a hand before.”
You hear Aaron’s warm laugh from a distance and then he’s filling your screen once more, now clean and fully sans clothing. “Trust me when I say the feeling is mutual.”
Propping yourself up on one elbow, you smile at the handsome man before you. “You know what my next purchase is gonna be?”
“Enlighten me.”
“A mold of your cock so I’m never without you.”
“Absolutely not,” he scoffs immediately. “Then you won’t need me anymore.”
“Of course I’ll still need you! Who else is going to fund my lavish lifestyle?”
He grunts, unenthused, the hint of a smile making his lips twitch. “Brat.”
You scrunch your nose in delight and grin at him. “Thank you for my little shopping spree today. And for tonight, of course.”
“My pleasure, angel,” he answers warmly. “Same time tomorrow, if our case continues on this trajectory.”
With a playful laugh, you tease, “You wish.”
He grows serious, mouth setting in a hard line. “I’m sorry, Princess, you mistook that for a question- it wasn’t.”
“Yes, sir, Mister Unit Chief,” you respond through a nervous giggle with a mock salute.
“That’s my girl,” he breaks into a soft smile once more. “Get yourself cleaned up, drink some water, and get a good night’s rest, okay?”
You nod obediently and blow him a kiss. “Goodnight, Aaron.”
“Goodnight, beautiful.” You go to exit the call, then stop when he calls your name, raising an eyebrow in question. “Save what you bought until I get home. I want to see you in my shirt again tomorrow.”
Quirking an eyebrow at your husband for his breach of Going Out With the Team SOP, you nevertheless obey the directive, scooting as elegantly as you can along the plush bench of the booth until your left shoulder meets the wall. Aaron follows after you, his leg pressed against yours, left hand coming to rest possessively on your knee, the cool metal of his watch sending an involuntary shiver up your spine as the rest of the team files in behind him. Squeezing your knee, he presses his lips against the shell of your ear and murmurs, “Cold?”
You shake your head in response, tapping the face of his watch, “Just gave me a start, that’s all.”
He hums in acknowledgment before turning his attention to the approaching waitress, your drink order flowing easily from his lips after a number of years together.
“Switching things up tonight?” JJ asks with a nod at your seating arrangement.
You simply shrug and incline your head towards Aaron in response. He shares a knowing look with Emily, the ghost of a smirk flirting over your husband’s handsome features which sends a shock of heat to your lower body.
“Aar?” you ever so gently tug on his tie to grab his attention.
“Hm?”
“How come I’m in the corner tonight?”
“Because I can hold a drink in my right hand,” he offers cryptically, not really answering your question.
You’ve sat in the same unofficially assigned lineup for years now: Hotch, then Mrs. Hotch- a nickname that Spencer nervously blurted out when he caught you on your husband’s lap in his office (it was initially weaponized for Derek’s teasing but ultimately stuck)- then Emily, Penelope, Derek, JJ, Spencer, and Dave. Being the only left-handed individual at the table, your unwaveringly considerate husband always opted to take the corner spot so that he wouldn’t bump into any of you during dinner.
Except here you were out for drinks, not dinner, his dominant hand on your knee surreptitiously inching up your leg.
You grab his wrist sharply as the flat of his palm makes contact with the pillow of your thigh, just below the hem of your dress. He begins kneading your flesh softly and you relax into the cushion behind you, satisfied that he won’t dare to play this game with a team of expert profilers within sight line and earshot. The waitress returns with your drinks and you take a hearty sip of your martini, not realizing how warm you had grown from your lover’s seemingly innocent touches.
Aaron nonchalantly picks up his drink, two fingers of amber liquid on the rocks, indulging for once since the BAU had closed a particularly perplexing case. His large hand dwarfs the glass, an observation that has saliva involuntarily pooling in your mouth. He raises the glass to his lips to take a sip before continuing an animated story about an agent he ran into on his morning bike ride through the park, his index finger absentmindedly tapping against its crystalline curves.
Your breath hitches in your throat as, hidden from the rest of his team, his middle finger mimics the repetitive movement against the thin fabric of your panties just barely covering your entrance.
Squeezing the stem of your martini glass between your fingers, you down the rest of your beverage and cross your legs, effectively trapping your husband’s hand between your thighs and putting a damper on his plans.
He pinches the sensitive skin of your inner thigh and you reflexively bump your knee against the table as you pull your leg away from the offensive stimulus, crying out a sharp “Ow!”
“Are you alright, my love?” he coos, brows drawn together in apparent concern as his fingers dip below your panties and between your folds.
“I’m-” your breath hitches as he suddenly slides his middle finger knuckle deep in your pussy. “Fine,” you rasp out with a smile, hurriedly gulping down the remainder of his scotch to muffle a moan.
“That scotch has been aging longer than you’ve been alive,” Dave gently chides you with a fatherly smile.
“You’re meant to savor every drop, sweetie,” Aaron tacks on with a smirk, torturously dragging his finger against your walls as you flutter around him.
“So get me another one,” you simper, biting back a moan as he picks up on your double entendre and slips another finger inside you.
Another martini magically appears in front of you and you appreciatively smile up at your waitress, a faint blush decorating your face as Aaron keeps up his unrelenting ministrations, hoping that his friends will attribute your flushed cheeks to the alcohol flowing through your veins. Always attentive to your needs, he asks if you’re enjoying your drink in response to which you purr, “It’s perfect, Aaron.”
There’s no way his team is oblivious to what’s occurring at your end of the table, but then your husband is curling his fingers just right and the alcohol is numbing your rational thoughts and that familiar coil is tightening in your lower belly and you just can’t bring yourself to care. Aaron applies gentle pressure to your clit with the heel of his hand, expertly reading your body language and knowing that you need a final push to tumble over the edge. You dig your nails into his muscular thigh as your orgasm washes over you, trying and failing to keep quiet, instead settling for an “Oh my god, I love this song!”
“Then we should go dance,” Penelope suggests with a squeal, not one to squander an opportunity to let loose with her favorite girls.
“Oh, I don’t know if I could right now,” you laugh softly, inclining your chin towards the empty glasses in front of you and carefully extracting your talons from your husband’s leg.
“C’mon, Y/N, you can’t say no to Garcia,” Emily smirks, her eyes flashing with a challenge as yours widen at the thought of standing up in your present state.
“Go ahead, honey, we’ll get out of your way,” Aaron offers smoothly, delicately sliding your essence back up your thighs before replacing your panties with a gentle pat. The men of the BAU ease out of the booth to allow you space to escape, Aaron quietly excusing himself to use the restroom.
You spot him at the bar as the song ends, leaning against the granite to speak to the bartender. Sidling up to him, you smile gratefully as he slides a glass of ice-cold water your way with a knowing smirk. “I can’t believe you actually just did that,” you giggle around your straw, the combination of alcohol and post-orgasm bliss pushing you past the point of tipsy into drunk territory.
He cups your cheek with his large left hand and bends down to press a kiss against your lips, murmuring, “You can thank Emily for that one.”
Turning your head to kiss his wedding ring, you quip, “I know that I’m drunk right now, but I’m fairly sure that was all you.”
“She made a crack earlier about right handed dominance, so I had to prove her wrong.”
Sensing an opportunity, you tilt your head back and forth, drawing out a “Well…” He fixes you with a sharp look and you smile easily in response. “All I’m saying,” you placate with a squeeze of his bicep, “is we should perform a controlled experiment to settle the debate once and for all.”
