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Love & Sex

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Love & Sex Title

It was getting too intense. They should stop. He should stop. She should stop.

But she's not sure she wants to. He has her pressed back against the wall, his slender fingers manipulating her nipple, pinching, stroking, circling . . . It was exquisitely unbearable. And the worst thing was that he kept whispering into her ear over and over, "I love you, Amanda. I love you."

"Dominick . . . " She finds that she can't finish the sentence she had wanted to start. Especially when his hand reaches up to cup her cheek as he pulls back to look at her. She almost whimpers at how gentle he is.

"Yes?" he says softly, his blue eyes happily dancing before hers.

"We . . . I . . . "

Oh how did they get here?

 "I love you," he had said to her. Just casually in the middle of a Thursday.

They had stopped by his place to pick something up on the way back to the precinct.

"What?" she stammered.

"You heard me."

"But . . . ?"

"I do."

"Just like that?"

"What do you mean 'just like that?' It's not 'just like that.' Amanda, I've felt this way for a while now – and you know it. I just thought it was time to actually say something." He shrugs.

"Why now?"

"I don't really know. It just seemed like the right thing to say. Do you have anything to say?"

She looks down.

"Nothing?" He doesn't sound upset, sad, or anything by her lack of response – just curious. She can't help but think that this man is amazing.

 "We . . . I . . . "

Still pressed against that wall, she struggles with what to say as his fingers run down her neck from her chin. While he waits for her to speak his hand strays between her breasts and down her ribcage, ever so softly, ever so slowly . . . eventually finding its way over her stomach. He's still waiting but she doesn't continue.

His delicate fingers find their way beneath her waist band. And then . . .


She takes in a sharp breath.

"Yeah?" he asks. She notices how pronounced his accent is in that moment and wonders why she's even thinking about that.

She gives up her plan of even trying to protest because now she just wants more of him. Actually all of him.

So she nods.

He smiles tenderly as his fingers slowly find their way deep inside of her, locking her in his gaze all the way. They are so long.

But she can't take it for long and closes her eyes, blocking out the fire burning in his.

After he moves inside of her for a while, her eyelids fly open and she finally finds her voice. "Oh my god, it's too . . . oh . . ."

"Yeah?" There's that accent again.

"Intense. Oh my god it's too much."

With his fingers still inside her his thumb settles . . . There. She gasps. "You want me to stop?"

"No, no! God no!"

She can't believe it, how it came on so quickly, but it has.

"Please don't stop. Not now." She whimpers and her eyes squeeze tightly shut. It is starting.

He doesn't stop, only keeps his thumb there firmly as she pulses around his fingers, her breath catching as she holds back a cry of pleasure. And his fingers stay deep inside her, caressing her as she finds her way back down and her body relaxes, slumping against the wall.

He leans into her and holds her in place. Securely.

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"Do you have anything to say?"



"I'm not sure I can say it." Amanda sighs.

"You can't say it, or you don't feel it?" He gives her a little lopsided grin like he knows the truth.

"This isn't easy for me, you know? It shouldn't be easy for you either."

"Why not?" Again he's totally relaxed, like this whole conversation is no big deal.

"Because I don't des – "

He puts up a finger, stopping her. "Don't say it."

"You know it, Carisi. You know it in your heart. You're just too . . . " She flops her hand around, evaluating him from head to toe.

"Too what?"


He puts his hands on his hips and laughs in a way that is almost a snort. But then he stops to look at her carefully.

"Seriously Amanda. You deserve everything. Everything."

 He's still holding her securely – against that wall.

"You okay?" he breathes onto her neck.

"Yeah." She's still breathing heavily. "It was just a little intense, you know."

"We can slow it down."

"Good idea," she says and nods.

He backs away from her once she's caught her breath, drawing his hand down her cheek in a caress. Eventually both of his hands come down and land on her waist.

She looks down near his belt buckle and suddenly forgets why it's a good idea to slow down. There's a hardness there, and she wants to release it – to touch him, to feel him in that way.

Despite their affection for one another, in some ways she never really thought she would get to this place with him. He is so different from anyone else she's been with that a part of her just never thought something like this would to actually come to fruition. But now that she's here. . .

She lifts her hand to his chest, resting it on his shoulder, her thumb stroking his prominent collar bone. Then she traces her fingers over it, fascinated. They continue their way down his bare chest. She can almost feel the bones of his ribcage through his skin, so different than the overdeveloped muscles of the others. Somehow this makes him more real to her, more human, more delicate. Something she needs to be careful not to hurt.

 "You deserve everything. Everything." He steps forward to tilt her chin up. "Even love."

But before he can even bend down to kiss her tears start to form in her eyes.

"Stop. Just stop." She puts up a hand.

"You can't make me stop caring."

"Carisi, please don't . . . "


With freshly formed tears threatening to escape her eyes she says harshly, "Because I'm going to hurt you. And you're too good for that."

"Really? You really believe that?"

"You know it's true."

"No I don't, Amanda. That's the point."

"How is that the point?"

He sighs, frustrated. "Look, if you're expecting the worst, you'll get the worst. Or heck, in your case I'll get the worst."

"You will – you'll get the worst of me if I let myself love you."

"You're wrong – I won't get the worst of you. You wouldn't do that to me," he says firmly. "Besides, I know who you are, Amanda – I've seen who you are. I may not know every little detail of your past, but I know YOU – even if you try to hide it. Trust me. I'm observant."

"You think you know me . . . even the worst parts," she replies. "But you really don't. I hide them too well."

"No, you don't."

"Really?" she challenges him with her hand on her hip and her head cocked to the side.

"Not from me," he says with confidence.

She doesn't answer.

"How many times have you shared your fears, your doubts with me? Amanda, I know who you are because you've already shared so much of yourself – you've already let me in." He moves closer to her and strokes her cheek. "You can trust me. It's okay."

She looks up at him, feeling vulnerable and open. Then nodding and looking back down, she acknowledges to herself that she has shared many things with him – things she's never even told her most trusted confidant, Fin.

"It's okay to love me, Amanda," Carisi says softly. "It's okay."

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She has managed to find her way down to his belt buckle and strokes it lovingly, teasingly.

"Please don't keep me waiting," he says with heated breath. She looks back up and sees his eyes blur with lust. "Please , Amanda."

She gives him a devilish smile as she slowly undoes the buckle.

"You're killing me here."

"I know," she says lightly.

"Too much," he says and fiercely digs his fingers into her hair, pulling her in for a searing kiss. She starts tugging down on his pants, eager to get him out of them. And then he reaches for hers.

Just as they get each other completely out of their clothes, they stumble and fall onto his bed which isn't too far away from the wall they had just been against.

Their elbows are everywhere.


"Ow. I'm sorry."

"No problem."

"You okay?"


The settle in, both of them chuckling a bit. She reaches a hand up to his temple and her fingers easily slide into the silver strands she finds there. He looks down at her. He's wanted this for so long.

"You know I love you," he says with a low voice, his accent as strong as ever.

She smiles up at him and nods as his long fingers slide deep into her golden hair.

He holds her gaze steady while he penetrates her for the first time.

 "It's okay to love me, Amanda. It's okay."

"You're not afraid?"

"Of what?"

"Of being hurt."

"Oh, that." Carisi waves his hand dismissively. "Nah. If I lived my life that way I'd never do anything."

"You've obviously never been hurt." She snorts.

"Actually, yes I have. Deeply."

"Oh, I didn't know that." She is surprised. He carries himself like someone who's never known suffering and pain.

"Yup." He shrugs. "You're not the only one in the world who's gone through crap. You may have gone through more crap, or worse crap. But you're not the only one, believe me."

She takes his hand,. "Who hurt you?"

"It doesn't matter." He looks away, but doesn't let go of her hand. She traces a small circle on it.

"Tell me about it. Please."

He sighs. "I don't really want to get into this right now."

"And I don't want to tell you I love you." That makes him look up.

"You . . . ?"

"Talk to me," Amanda says firmly.

Their coupling intensifies to the point that he can't utter a single word – he is breathing too hard. Sweat is pouring down his back as she grasps at his forearms, feeling them constrict beneath her hands.

He feels so good. In every way.

She doesn't want to lose this . . . doesn't want to lose him.

Carisi leads her into his bedroom to talk, still holding her hand, and then just slumps down on the bed, releasing it. He tells her a heartbreaking story about the 'friend' who had died of cancer his junior year of high school. It was obvious she wasn't just his friend regardless of the way he referred to her. When she died she had taken pieces of him with her.

"You see now?" he asks Amanda.

"I'm not sure."

"I loved her. I truly did." He sighs raggedly, running a hand through his hair. "And then she was gone. Just like that. Gone."

"I see."

"Do you? Do you really?" He pauses to look up at her. "Even though it doesn't seem realistic if you really look at how old I was at the time, I was terrified of going through something like that again. I mean, what 17-year-old is going to die of cancer? Really?"

"She did," Amanda says softly, gently, reaching out to him and stroking his arm, his back.

"Yes, she did." He bows his head. "And I swore I wouldn't let myself feel for anyone that deeply again. It was too painful."

"What changed?"

"My priest said something to me."

She waits for him to continue and he looks up, yet doesn't quite meet her eyes.

"He asked me what I would have missed out on if I had pulled away from her out of fear. And I remembered all the joy that we shared – even after she was diagnosed. God, we had so little time."

Carisi locks her in his gaze and his blue eye bore into hers.

"He also asked me what would I have missed out on if I had never let her in at all. And that's the point, Amanda. It's worth it. It's all worth it." He pauses to let that sink in, the intensity in his eyes never wavering. "You're worth it."

"Dominick . . . " She had never called him that before but it just felt right. He had shared too much with her for her to keep him at a distance any longer by only using his last name.

His eyes change when she uses his first name, and a smile breaks out on his face. She can't help but smile back. "You're worth it too."

"Does that mean . . . ?"


The next thing she knows she is pressed against that wall for the first time. Somehow they had both lost their shirts in the process. It doesn't matter. All she wants is to be here with him in this moment.

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"Look at me, Amanda," Carisi says, his hand still tangled deep in her hair. They have slowed down from their previously frantic pace and he is moving inside of her gently now – and it is so sweet that it threatens to take her to the edge. She can tell that he knows she's on the brink.

Her eyes are squeezed shut and she shakes her head.

"Come on," he says softly. "I want to see."

"It will be too much," she whispers.

"It can't be."

She releases some of the tension around her eyelids, almost wanting to give in. But still she keeps them closed.

"Trust me," he says quietly, soothingly. "It will be okay. You can share this with me."

She slowly opens her eyes and sees his gorgeous blue eyes staring back at her. The biggest smile breaks out on his face.

"Yeah, that's it," he encourages.

It is almost too much. It is too much.

Amanda reaches a shaking hand up to touch the side of his face. As soon as her fingertips make contact and feel the smoothness of his cheek it starts. She holds his gaze the entire time, her clear aqua eyes staring into the blue depths of his. She never wavers.

"Amanda," he breathes in amazement as she quakes around him.

She comes down and her eyes are still locked on his. They are drenched in a pool of sweat.

"It's getting hot in here."

"Oh yes it is." He grins and is still inside of her. Not finished himself.

She taps him lightly on the shoulder, smiles, and says, "You know what I mean."

He just wiggles his eyebrows at her.

She laughs. "What ridiculous thing are you planning to do to me now?"

"Let's see," he says and rolls out of bed. He holds his hand out to her and says, "Come on."

She takes it and immediately finds herself pressed against that wall again, this time with her nipples jammed hard against it and his body behind her pinning her in place. The textured wallpaper is a bit rough on her skin and it turns her on. Frankly, he turns her on.

"It may not be so ridiculous," he breathes hotly into her ear.

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He's still got her pressed against that wall breathing hot and heavy down her back. Her nipples grind into it, rubbing against its coarse texture as he moves within her. But before even starting he had kissed her all over her back and shoulders in a gentle contrast to being held against that rough wall. It had been exquisite.

Right now he feels so insanely good inside of her as he thrusts at his own pace. One that works for him. She is moaning in time with his grunting. They are both getting louder. And louder. His palm is pressed against the back of her hand on the wall and his fingers curl down as they begin to interlace tightly with hers.

Suddenly his grunting turns into something else and his pace changes dramatically. He is crying out. She knows he is finishing and tries to stay with him, tries to stall her own climax. She wants to experience his pleasure, not be lost in her own. But hearing him cry out like that has almost pushed her over the edge. Hold back – she tells herself – she must hold back. But it is hard. So very hard.

His cries out for so long that at one point she doesn't think she can wait any longer. She starts to quiver and closes her eyes. But then he finishes with one final loud groan and she lets herself go over the edge entirely, screaming out his name. All three syllables.

Both of their legs are shaking so violently as they finish that it causes them to lose their balance. They fall, crashing one on top of the other into a naked heap on the floor.

They can't stop laughing at themselves. Each time one of them tries to talk it just dissolves into giggles that don't want to dissipate. Finally, Amanda can get a few words out . . .

"Okay, seriously – "

"Seriously? There is no seriously. We're sprawled out on the floor, Amanda."

"Yeah, we're wrecked," she says and chuckles. Then she props herself up on one elbow and asks him, "Was it good for you?"

He gives her a wry smile. "I would ask if it was good for you too, but as I recall from a few minutes ago, you got off pretty good just from giving me pleasure, so I'm not sure I need to."

"That's not what that was!"

"Wasn't it?" His eyes are bright, bright blue.

For some reason now she's embarrassed that she's obviously an open book to him – he was spot on in his assessment.

He raises one of his eyebrows while he waits for her to answer. Damn, he's so cute when he does that. Why did it take her so long to notice? She vows to herself that she won't waste any more time.

"You know what?" she says to him.


"I love you," she says simply.

And she's not saying it because it's expected or because she doesn't want to disappoint someone. She's saying it because it's true. For the first time with anyone, it's actually true.