Chapter Text
You never imagined that Aaron Hotchner could get any hotter than he had been when you’d dated him for all three years of law school. Not a single part of you thought that was even remotely possible, he’d been fine as hell. A near perfect ten.
But here he was.
Having aged like the finest wine over the last fifteen years, and though things hadn’t worked out between you then… you found yourself glancing at his left hand trying to glimpse his ring finger.
No ring.
How he was still single at his age, you’d never understand. He was only a year or so older than you, and you were pushing forty.
He was saying… something? You had no idea what… your brain had short circuited as soon as he’d shook your hand and you’d noticed his sleeves were rolled up.
Something about needing your signature for the plea deal… you thought.
You were the District Attorney in the county he was currently working a case in.
You hadn’t known he was here, not having kept up with him when you’d gone your separate ways. The case was horrible and you’d been monitoring it closely… from a distance. You trusted the local leos to do their jobs and when they’d said they were calling in the FBI you hadn’t questioned it.
But you hadn’t been expecting Aaron Motherfucking Hotchner to come marching into your office with a plea deal agreement in hand.
As far as you’d been concerned, he was practicing in D.C., kicking ass just like he had in every class you’d shared.
Apparently not.
He was leaning against a table in your office—same ole Aaron, he’d always choose to lean on something instead of sitting in a chair like a normal human being—with his arms folded over his chest and his legs crossed at his ankles.
This case must have been rough for him, he was practically indecent compared to how you always remembered him dressing in a professional setting. His top two buttons were undone, not a tie in sight, and his sleeves—as previously mentioned—were rolled up almost to his elbows.
How slutty of him.
Had he gotten broader in the shoulders and chest? Was that possible?
The way his chest tapered down to his waist was way too eyecatching for your sanity. His thighs were so muscular that you could tell he was flexing them through his slacks…
Jesus…
He was fucking gorgeous.
And as you trailed your eyes back up to his face you realized he was smirking at you as he spoke… What was he saying?
“Then the purple monkey stole my Aston Martin and took it for a joy ride with the pink hippopotamus and they wrecked it on The Beltway.” He said wryly.
Fuck. Busted. Try to play it off.
“What?” You blinked, shaking your head in confusion. “Sorry, I was… distracted.”
“Yes, I could see that.” He said smugly. “Are you done undressing me with your eyes or should I let you finish before I start over?”
Oh so he’s going there… nice play Hotchner… too bad you forgot who your opponent was.
You smirked.
“Give me two more minutes.” You joked, “I wasn’t done, only made it to your thighs.”
He laughed and it was exactly how you remembered it.
“My thighs?” He raised a brow at you.
“Yeah, actually if you could just turn around that’d be great.” You smirked back teasingly. He actually flushed a little when you said, “I just can’t get a good look at your ass from this angle, seriously Aaron… you look good. Have you been working out?”
He shook his head and smiled softly.
“I knew better than to try and embarrass you… you don’t know what embarrassment is.” He chuckled.
You winked at him, smiling softly.
“Really though, that was unprofessional of me, I apologize.” You offered, “What were you saying?”
He chuckled and shook his head, before giving you the run down on the plea deal he wanted you to sign—for the second time—as he handed it to you across your desk.
His fingers brushed yours and it was like electricity coursed through you.
The chemistry is still there then…
When he was done, you bit your lip and sighed.
“You know I can’t sign that for you, I didn’t know you were the lead on this case, so I’ll have to recuse myself.” You reminded him. “We have history and as bad as this case is, we can’t allow any conflict of interest.”
“I agree… So who would you reassign it to? Because I need this deal today.” He frowned, not really at you, but at the possibility that the deal might fall apart and he wouldn’t get his confession.
“My A.D.A. is down the hall, last door on the left, tell his aide I sent you and she’ll let you in.” You smiled, and pointed down the hall.
“Thank you.” He said sincerely. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you since we… broke up after graduation.”
And why had you done that again??
Looking at him right now it seemed like the stupidest decision you’d ever made. You’d been a power couple in law school, professors even had a hard time winning an argument against the both of you. You thought as though you shared a brain, and you were a menace in mock trials. So much so, that your classmates had started calling you The Sharks, Tiger and Bull. Instead of getting offended, you’d started calling each other by those nicknames affectionately.
You wondered if he remembered.
“Uh, I- I’ve been good, mostly…” You said vaguely. “I’ve been a DA here for about five years now.”
“That’s great!” he praised, with a—thigh clenchingly—gorgeous smile.
“And you?”
“I’m the unit chief over the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico.” He shrugged, as if that wasn’t impressive, apparently having learned some humility over the years. “Have been for about seven years now.”
Seven? You only graduated law school fifteen years ago… had he only practiced for a few years??
“That’s amazing, Aaron!” You smiled at him, “What made you decide to switch careers?”
He chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.
“After about two years, I decided that by the time the cases got to my desk… It felt too late, like I wasn’t doing enough… so I went to the academy and–” He was interrupted by his phone ringing, he pulled it out and looked up at you. “I have to take this.”
He looked so apologetic about it.
“Of course.” You murmured with an encouraging smile.
“Hotchner.” He said into the phone.
The conversation lasted all of thirty seconds before he was hanging up.
“I have to get back down to the station, so I better go get this deal signed.” He murmured, his brows drawn in concern, “But you and I should catch up when this is over. Maybe over drinks?”
He looked so hopeful, and you wouldn't mind seeing where a few drinks with him would lead.
“That sounds fun!” and it really did, you would love to catch up with him. Things hadn’t ended badly, it had been a mutual decision to choose careers over each other, and neither of you had seemed to regret it. You knew you hadn’t, until maybe today.
Though you wouldn’t mind reminiscing… for old times sake.
“Pick a place and let me know!” He said, “I’m not familiar with this area.”
“Oh I don’t live here, I commute!” You told him, “I’m actually pretty close to Quantico!”
“Perfect!” He smiled. “In that case I know the perfect place.”
“Great!” You smiled back, “Can’t wait.”
“Me too.” He said as he stood and headed toward the door, he stopped on the threshold and looked back with a genuine smile. “It really is good to see you Tiger, I mean it.”
The nickname stole the breath from your lungs.
“You too, Bull.” You said softly, “Call me?”
“Count on it.”
He turned then, and walked down the hall away from your office. As he disappeared from sight you saw a card laying on the table he’d been leaning on.
It was his business card, with his personal number written on the back.
You couldn’t help yourself as you texted the number immediately.
You were definitely gonna fuck this man. He may have been your ex… but you were ready to reconnect.
The flirtatious texting continued over the next forty eight hours that it took Aaron and his team to wrap up the case, until he finally texted you one evening just as you were getting off work.
You sent him your address, then made the thirty minute drive home.
*****************************************************
You were probably three or four glasses of wine in, and the conversation was flowing. Aaron had only had a glass of whiskey that he was still nursing, as responsible as always, he would make sure he was capable of safely driving you home.
“What I have been dying to know is how you’re still single at almost forty, looking like that!?” You finally blurted out when he’d finished telling you about how he’d risen to unit chief so quickly.
His smile dropped away for a moment and you froze, you hadn’t meant to upset him, or offend him.
“Aaron I-” You started to back pedal, but he put his hand over yours on the bar.
“It’s okay,” He assured you, then sighed, “I was married for 12 years, she left me and we got divorced a little over a year ago. We have a son, his name is Jack, he’s almost four.”
Oh shit.
“I’m sorry…” You murmured, “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I spent more time on the job than I did on our marriage. She was home alone with a newborn and then a toddler… and we just fell apart. I could’ve fixed it, transferred to a new unit and had a regular nine to five… but I’m selfish. I didn’t wanna leave my team.” He explains. “I had more loyalty to them than I did to my wife. So she left me, and I don’t blame her. What about you? As amazing as you are, someone didn’t put a ring on your hand?”
You chuckled softly and gave him a commiserating glance.
“Same song, different verse I’m afraid…” You muttered, “We were married for six years, and then I won the case that made my career, and I got promoted to ADA, the hours were the same, but the case load was huge, I would stay late to work and it got to the point where we were never home at the same time. Then he accused me of cheating, which is a whole other thing, but yeah… we split pretty quickly after that. I had a glow up and got another promotion, so I can’t really say that I miss him.”
“He accused you of cheating?” Aaron asked, with an incredulous look on his face. “When would you have had the time?”
“Exactly!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in the air, “I don’t have the time for a real relationship, much less a secret affair! Fuck, I don’t even remember the last time I got laid! I think I might’ve slept with some clerk from one of the judges offices after the divorce was finalized—to celebrate—but it wasn’t memorable enough to be sure it even happened because I was so drunk that night. I’ve had my nose to the grindstone ever since, and there’s no time for much else. I do miss sex though. I think I’d be much less stressed—and a lot less bitchy—if I had someone that I could just text, ‘Hey come fuck my brains out,’ and they would and it would be great! Then they’d leave until I needed them again! Do people still do that at forty? What did we call it in college? Fuck buddies? Yeah… I need a fuck buddy.”
He was giving you that smile, the one that used to turn you inside out and make you wet just looking at him. It still worked apparently.
“I believe the adult term for that arrangement is ‘Friends With Benefits,’ I’m pretty sure they made a whole movie about it.” He teased, his eyes sparkling the way they always did when you were entertaining him.
“They did, two of them, actually! I’ve seen them both, I prefer the Mila Kunis one to be honest. But, I think I’ll stick with the term ‘fuck buddies’ it feels more mutual that way, and less committal.” You thought aloud, and then looked over at him again. “Yes, I think an emotional support fuck buddy is exactly what I need.”
He laughed, tipping his gorgeous head back, and letting the sound roll off his lips. He was so goddamn sexy.
“I was right, Tiger,” he said through a chuckle, “you haven’t changed a bit.”
You smiled back at him and studied him thoroughly.
“Well, you did get hotter, I stand by that,” you observed, and earned a soft snort from him in response, “but I think you’re more stern now, more serious. Like you forgot how to have fun.”
“I’m having fun right now.” He pointed out, smirking at you softly.
“Yeah, but it’s impossible not to have fun with me.” You returned teasingly. “I’m too crazy not to be fun.”
“That’s true.” He admitted, with a tilt of his head and a raise of his brows, biting back a smile.
“You’re not supposed to agree with that, asshole!” You exclaimed, laughing as you slapped his bicep playfully.
Holy shit he’s got nice biceps… Would he just take a hint and fuck you already?!
You were fairly certain you were being beyond obvious, and you didn’t remember him being this thick headed when you initiated sex while you were together. Granted that was fifteen years ago…
The conversation carried on for nearly ten more minutes, until you’d both finished your drinks—your fifth glass of wine to his one and only glass of whiskey—then he pulled out his wallet, and gave you a look when you tried to open your purse.
“Are you ready to go, Tiger?” He asked, after he settled the tab with the bar tender.
“I’m ready if you are, Bull.” You said back teasingly, it felt good to just be friends with him again, even if you wanted to jump his bones… desperately. That’s how your relationship had started after all, as friends.
*************************************************************************************************************
The ride back to your place was filled with idle chatter—mostly yours—but as you got closer and closer to your destination, you got more and more nervous. So you talked more, and he started to talk less and less. Until he pulled up to the curb outside your house. He didn’t say anything, he just got out of the car and came around to your side. As you gathered your purse and slipped on your coat, he opened the door for you, offering you a hand to help you out of his mid sized SUV. A range rover, which you now recognized as a dad car, granted a very sexy dad car.
He guided you to your door with a hand on your back and kept it there—almost protectively—as you unlocked your front door. He didn’t remove it until you opened the door and stepped over the threshold. He leaned against the door staying firmly outside, but making no move to leave, or say goodbye, he just waited as you took off your coat and hung it up.
“Are you waiting for something?” You asked him teasingly.
“I’m just waiting for you to either invite me in or say goodnight.” He shrugged, smirking at you with a slight wrinkle between his brows.
“What are you, a vampire?” You joked with a giggle, “Get in here Hotchner, I’ll give you the house tour and we can have another drink.”
He stepped up into the house, took off his own coat, and waited for you to shut the door, but when you turned around to face him…
He pinned you to it.
One hand on your waist, the other against the door, just over your head and to the right.
“The house tour can wait, I wanna re-familiarize myself with you first.” He murmured, almost against your lips, his nose just brushing yours. “Unless you’re opposed to that, of course.”
You couldn’t fucking breathe, his eyes were burning into yours, his breath on your lips made it impossible to think of a response, and his hand on your waist was like a brand.
“No objections here.” You whispered, breathlessly, then closed the short distance between his lips and yours. Draping your arms on his shoulders and wrapping your leg around the back of his.
He wasted no time, lifting you up off the ground by the backs of your thighs—never breaking the kiss that had quickly become rushed and messy—your legs wrapped around his waist like it was still second nature, your dress riding up your thighs to your hips. Which he took full advantage of, gripping your ass firmly to hold you aloft as he kept your back pressed against the door.
He started trailing kisses across your jaw and down the side of your neck, nipping, licking and sucking gently as he went.
“God, I thought you were never gonna take a hint…” You panted, your hands threaded through his hair, your head thrown back to give him better access.
His answering chuckle rumbled through his chest and into yours, making your pussy clench around nothing. You were gonna need him to get this show on the road.
“Sweetheart, I’ve had your intentions figured out since the thorough eye fucking you gave me in your office.” He murmured against your neck, between kisses and gentle bites. “You’ve never been subtle, Tiger. You were always an open book to me.”
Hearing that nickname from his lips, in this context, was enough to pull a moan from yours, and he laughed softly at the sound.
“Where’s your bedroom, pretty girl?” He asked, pulling back to look at you, with your cheeks flushed and breath shaky. “God you’re beautiful.”
Then he was kissing your lips again before you could answer.
If you had been capable of higher thoughts, you would have said something like, ‘should’ve been patient enough for the house tour,’ or even just, ‘up the stairs, last door on the right.’
Unfortunately, you couldn’t tell up from down—not with his tongue caressing yours like that—much less think coherently enough to give him understandable instructions.
Yes, it’d been that long, and yes, you were that desperate. Who were you to judge yourself?
“The bedroom's too far, take me to the couch.” You whimpered against his lips instead, and you didn’t have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about it either.
He pulled his head back just enough to take a look around, easily spying the couch in question, in the living room, just off to the left of the entryway. Then he pulled you away from the wall, carried you the ten or fifteen feet of space to the couch, sat you gently on the edge of it, and got on his knees between your legs. His hands ran up your thighs to the lace of your panties, he hooked his fingers into the waist of them, tugging them down as you leaned back and lifted your hips up so he could get them off.
You didn’t know where they went after that, you weren’t paying attention, because then he took his hands and spread your thighs even wider…
Just so he could look at you, spread wide for him.
You knew what he’d find, you’d been wet for hours, and now that he was actually touching you…
“You’re absolutely dripping for me, aren’t you?” He asked, so smugly rhetorical, with a smirk that had you clenching.
“Obviously, so why don’t you shut up and do something about it already?” You said impatiently, to cover the fact that you were crazed and desperate.
“As you wish, your highness.” He joked sarcastically, then he picked up your legs, pressing a kiss to the inside of both knees and draped them over his shoulders.
He slowly worked his way up your thighs, kissing and sucking marks, with the occasional well placed bite. His hands slid up your thighs to your ass the closer his mouth got to your pussy, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake. The way he was taking his blessed sweet time had you squirming before you could even feel his breath against where you wanted him, and the smug set of his brows told you that he knew it.
“Aaron, please…” You whimpered as he hovered, breath fanning over your aching cunt.
“You must want it really bad if you’re using pretty words like please,” He teased, looking up at you with a wicked gleam in his eyes, “huh, Tiger?”
“Aaron.”
You’d been trying to sound stern, but it came out a strangled plea because right at that moment, he chose to stop teasing.
His mouth on your pussy felt nearly hot enough to burn as he licked a stripe up you, adding to your wetness. When his tongue flattened against your clit, you thought there were stars dancing in your vision.
Your hands found his hair and pulled until he groaned, then he rolled his tongue so that the tip of it flicked your clit perfectly, before he finally closed his mouth around it, sucking lightly.
“Fuck, Aaron!” You cried out, back arching up off the couch, and his soft laughter seemed to sink into your skin and make that ball of pressure in your core even tighter.
Then he slowly slipped a thick finger inside you, curling it just enough to work the pad of it against your g-spot, drawing a ridiculously needy moan from your lips. His eyes met yours as he kept his mouth on your clit, there was amusement in them, but you could see the desire that was quickly overtaking it.
The way his finger was dragging against your inner walls in tandem with the suction he was giving your clit was nearly enough to have you sobbing, pushing you closer and closer with every passing second. You were aware that you were overly sensitive due to being pent up for so long, but you hadn’t gotten head this good since…
Fuck, since Aaron last had his head between your legs… and he’d only gotten better at it.
How you’d ever forgotten about this man’s skill with his tongue… you did not know.
“Holy fucking hell, Aaron!” You whined, as he added a second finger, increasing the intense pressure in your core that much more, until you felt like the slightest bit more would send you into orbit.
“Are you okay?” He murmured, checking in, but barely stopping before he was putting suction on your clit again.
“Yes, please keep going…” You whimpered, and he hummed in satisfied agreement. Which sent vibrations through your clit, that—combined with the suction and his fingers—sent you screaming over the edge.
You felt the warmth as it ran down your cunt to your ass, your eyes—that you hadn’t even realized you’d closed—snapped down to his hand, still between your legs.
The cuff of his sleeve was soaked.
You’d squirted… a lot.
Your eyes met his, and your heart raced as your cheeks burned bright red you were certain. You opened your mouth to start apologizing, but he didn’t let you get a word out.
“Don’t you dare apologize for that, Tiger.” He warned you, “I’ll make you do it again if you do… Fuck, I might anyway… That was so hot, sweetheart.”
“It was?” You asked, still panting and shaking from your orgasm.
The way he was looking at you… it gave you flashbacks to situations just like this one, from years ago. Which made you remember that he had always loved it when you’d squirted as you finished.
“Mm hmm, I’ve been wondering all week if I could still make you squirt like that for me…” He smirked up at you, as he slowly removed his fingers from your cunt, sending a few aftershocks through your body as they skimmed your g-spot on the way out. Making you whimper in response. Then he slowly started to unbutton his shirt and slip it off his shoulders, wadding it up in a ball and tossing it toward the entryway. You took in his bare chest with wide eyes as he stood and tapped your thigh. “Get up on your knees for me, baby. Hold onto the back of the couch.”
You were too stunned to say anything. A, because he was gorgeous, and B, you hadn’t regained control of your brain after coming so hard.
So you just did as you were told, sitting up and climbing to your knees, as you faced the back of the couch, and the large picture window on the far wall.
The curtains were wide open.
Well, the thick, colored curtains were anyway… the sheer, white, gauzy curtains were closed, but with the lights on… you knew anyone out on the street could see in. The view would be blurry, but if someone was watching, they’d know exactly what was happening.
You heard his belt jingle, then his zipper coming down, the rustle of his pants as they hit the floor, and the scuff of them against the carpet as he kicked them away. Next you felt the warmth of his hands, one tapping your thighs apart, the other gripping your hip and pulling it back, then pushing down on your back gently with the first. The heat and hardness of his cock as he lined up at your entrance was enough to have you shivering in anticipation…
But the window…
“Aaron.” You murmured, and he paused at the slight trepidation in your tone.
“What’s wrong, pretty girl?” He murmured back, stroking your thigh and running his tip up and down your slit, gathering wetness onto it.
“The window.” You whispered, looking over your shoulder at him and biting your lip nervously.
“What about it?” He asked, with a smirk that told you he already knew exactly what you’d realized.
“Somebody might see…” You worried, furrowing your brows, but he just chuckled.
“Why do you think I left your dress on?” He asked, raising a brow at you, “If anyone is feeling a little voyeuristic tonight, all they’ll see are two blurry figures, who may or may not be fucking on a couch… Does that bother you?”
Then you recalled a time, when he had fucked you—naked—against your third story, apartment window… and you remembered that Aaron was a bit of an exhibitionist. Of course he didn’t actually want anyone else but him to see you naked, but the small chance that they might see him fucking you excited him a little…
Which in turn… excited you.
“Not at all.” You whispered, licking your lips and giving him a brief smile as you faced the window again. “Was just making sure you knew we were visible.”
“Oh… I knew…” He assured you, and the barely restrained rumble in his voice made your knees a little weaker. His cock lined back up with your entrance and you clenched in anticipation. “Are you ready, baby?”
“Mm hmm.” You hummed, unable to keep from wiggling impatiently.
“Hold still.” He scolded through an amused chuckle, playfully swatting your ass, the sting of it immediately melting into pleasure. Then he slowly pushed the head of his cock inside you. “Relax, pretty girl, let me in…”
His gentle, coaxing tone was meant to be soothing, but it was sexy as hell and only made you clench around him tighter, making him groan. “I really don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart. Relax for me…”
“I’m trying…” You whimpered, and you really were, but you wanted him so bad that the mere thought of it was making you tense more and more.
He slipped a hand around your waist and between your thighs, easily finding your clit again with his fingertips. As he circled it with perfect precision and pressure, your body had no choice but to relax for him.
He always knew how to make your body bend to his whims.
Why had you broken up with him again?
Your question went unanswered, however, because he filled your aching pussy in one full thrust as soon as you were ready to take it, and your mind went blank.
“Fuck…” You moaned, letting your forehead fall forward to rest on the back of the couch.
He was so deep at this angle, you thought you could feel him in your diaphragm, and he hadn’t even started moving yet. Instead, letting you adjust to his size—which was very considerable—before he began thrusting.
“Ready?” He murmured, his voice strained, wavering as though he could barely speak through the urge to move.
“So ready, let me have it, Aaron.” You encouraged, giving him your best, ‘fuck me hard, please,’ eyes over your shoulder. For good measure, you even whimpered, “Please!”
Which seemed to be all the permission he need to pull back and thrust into you again, harder than before.
“Three pleases in 20 minutes…” He chuckled softly, running his free hand up your back, under your dress, and unhooking your bra deftly, as though he’d done it a thousand times. “You really are pent up, aren’t you sweetheart?”
Before you could decide whether or not to dignify that question with a response, his hand slipped from your back to your chest, beneath the cup of your bra, where he palmed your breast. Squeezing it gently, before finding your nipple with his thumb and rubbing it in a circle, drawing a whine from your throat.
“Shhh, it’s okay pretty girl, I’ve got you.” He cooed, almost condescendingly, as he thrusted into you a little harder.
You knew he was warming you up to rail the absolute fuck out of you, you remembered how he had always started out so gently with you, but by the end… you’d have—well earned and appreciated—bruises.
The thought made you moan, and that only urged him on. Sliding in and out of you at a rapidly increasing pace, his hands both returned to your hips.
“Fuck, sweetheart you’re so wet for me, I can feel it running down my cock.” He growled, squeezing your hips with near bruising strength.
The tone of his voice had you clenching around him, and he reacted… groaning low in his throat, then fucked into you like he no longer had any of his famous self restraint left. The pace would’ve been brutal if you hadn’t wanted it so badly. You could feel him hitting your goddamn cervix with every stroke, your knuckles were white with the force of your grip on the couch. You had to hold on that tightly…
Just to stay up right.
Otherwise you would’ve been bent over the back of the couch. Which didn’t sound horrible, but you didn’t think that angle would feel as amazing as this one.
You could feel yourself careening toward that edge again, the pressure growing and growing to the point of near pain. Your cunt tightening around his cock as it clenched involuntarily, starting that tell tale flutter.
“Aaron I- I’m- oh fuck…” You moaned, feeling your entire body begin to tense and tremble.
“I know, pretty girl, I know, give it to me.” He soothed, no, pleaded, “Let me feel you come on my cock, baby.”
You shattered.
Your body legs shook until they couldn’t hold you up anymore, and his arm wrapped around your waist. Pulling you up and back against his chest, his other hand wrapping around your throat, not squeezing, just holding you there.
Any restraint he might have had left was obliterated.
He fucked you through your orgasm, so hard you thought you’d still be able to feel it next week, and that didn’t even seem like an exaggeration.
“Such a good girl,” he rasped against the skin just behind your ear, “coming so hard for me, twice in one night. Making me feel like this… you’re such a good girl…”
You’d always be such a sucker for praise, and you’d always liked the possessive side of Aaron… especially since it only extended to the bedroom.
You hadn’t experienced three orgasms back to back—given to you by a man instead of a vibrator—in well, ever actually. Not even with Aaron all those years ago, that you could remember.
But here you were, with the second rolling into an even stronger third, your pussy nearly squeezing the life out of him.
His hips stuttered and suddenly you found yourself bent over the back of the couch, your dress nearly under your armpits, as he pulled out of you in one fluid motion.
Then he came on your ass and back, with your name on his lips. The hot ropes of his orgasm landing on your skin had another moan wrenching free of your mouth, it cooled quickly and sent shivers up your spine as it ran down your ass cheeks.
Neither of you said anything for a moment, both panting and trying to catch your breath.
“Shit, Tiger, I’m sorry.” He muttered after a minute.
You looked over your shoulder at him like he’d lost his damn mind.
“What on earth could you possibly have to be sorry for?!” You demanded, with an incredulous laugh. “I just came three times. I’d worship the ground you’re standing on if my legs were capable of moving from this position.”
He huffed a nervous laugh, shaking his head, but his eyes were still apologetic as he explained, “I got cum on your dress…”
You laughed for real then, resting your head on the back of the couch.
“It’s okay, Aaron, it'll wash out.” You smiled up at him. “It’s not like this is designer or anything. It’s just a dress, besides, I squirted on your shirt and you told me if I apologized you would make me do it again. So I think we’re even.”
He laughed earnestly then, then patted your thigh affectionately.
“Be still so it doesn’t drip on the couch, I’ll go get something to clean you up with.” He said, and the. He crossed the entryway to the kitchen.
The sink was in plain sight of the couch, so obviously you ogled him the whole time, as he got some damp paper towels and some dry ones, then brought them back to clean you up.
“Fuck, I forgot how spectacular your ass is.” He murmured almost to himself, as he wiped away the evidence of what the two of you had just done. “How could I ever forget an ass like this?”
You laughed, content to lie there and let him look at you, and not sure you had much of a choice…
Your legs were still weak as fuck.
Don’t judge, anyone’s would be after getting dicked down like that…
“I don’t know, I’m wondering how I forgot that you’re this good in bed…” You joked, as he finished up. “Seriously, that was the best sex I’ve had… probably since the last time I had sex with you.”
He chuckled, the sound a deep rumble in his throat, and he squeezed your ass playfully.
“I wouldn’t mind reminding you how good at it I am a little more thoroughly this weekend… if you’re up for that?” He said it so casually, you would’ve missed the nervous undertone if you hadn’t been looking at him.
He may have been the profiler in the room, but you’d been a lawyer for just as long, and body language was nearly as important to your career as it was to his.
“What are you proposing, Bull?” You asked him, with a smirk that you hoped would hide your own hopeful anxiousness. “We both know neither of us have time for anything more than casual sex.”
“Just sex,” He murmured, “and friendship, someone to talk to, but no emotional commitment.”
Your smile grew so wide your cheeks ached.
“Aww Bull, are you offering to be my emotional support fuck buddy?” You teased, but inside you were freaking out.
You’d hoped that he’d want to before you’d slept with him, but now that he’d absolutely blown your mind… you were desperate for him to agree.
You didn’t want a relationship, you knew your ambition and drive didn’t leave room for one, but sex like that… it was hard to come by.
That was a poor choice of words, but you knew what you meant.
“Do we have to call it that?” He groaned, but you saw the slight twitching at the corners of his mouth.
“You think it’s cute and you know it…” You laughed, and he smacked your ass playfully in retaliation.
“Fine.” He sighed, “Yes, Tiger, I am offering to be your ‘emotional support fuck buddy’ and if you don’t get up, you may get a round two of my job interview.”
You laughed and gave your ass a flirty little wiggle, watching his eyes darken.
Your stomach did a little flip, but you smirked confidently anyway and said, “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
He smirked and hauled you up off the couch, and to your feet.
“You’re ridiculous,” he mumbled with an affectionate smile, “and insatiable, but I could get used to that again.”
You just giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek, then turned away from him.
“I know, but could you help me get out of this dress? Someone made a real mess of it.” You teased, shooting a flirty grin at him over your shoulder. “I’ll throw your clothes in the wash with it so they’ll be clean when you’re ready to leave in the morning.”
“You’re not kicking me out then?” He asked with a smirk, as he stepped closer and his fingers found the zipper of your dress. “I thought fuck buddies didn’t do sleepovers?”
“They don’t…” You shrugged, smiling at the wall in front of you. “But like you said, I’m ridiculously insatiable, and I still haven’t shown you my bedroom.”
“That’s not what I said.” He scoffed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he pushed the straps of your dress down your arms, and watched it pool around your feet. “But if you wanna show me your bedroom, pretty girl, I’m more than willing to follow you to it.”
“You say that now…” You warned him, turning to face him and letting the bra he’d unhooked earlier fall to the floor. “But when I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me to let you rest.”
His eyes shone with something nearly primal as he said, “We’ll see who does the most begging…”