himself with her nipple, rubbing his lips with it back and forth until he couldn’t resist the temptation to taste her. He captured it, holding it between his teeth as he suckled.
Hotch’s fingers teased her pussy lips open. He slipped in a finger and began a casual figure eight around her already sensitive clit.
“Hotch, I’m going to kill you slowly if you don’t stop playing with me and start fucking me,” she said on a groan.
“That’s a first,” he murmured, coming off her nipple.
“At the risk of sounding like a guy, would you just get on and ride me? I don’t think I can stand any more foreplay.”
Hotch laughed but he grabbed the condoms and fitted one on. He positioned himself between her legs, and in one swift move, penetrated her. Her sudden involuntary cry of pleasure echoed his. Already her cunt clenched around him with a fine shiver. Erin bit her bottom lip, and when her eyes opened again, they were hazy green.
They’d fucked before, but it had been in a rush or in the dark both times. This time he wanted to savor the moment, every sigh she gave, every second she lost her cool veneer to pleasure made tiny changes of her facial expressions.
He’d been reading Nebraska’s journal, just as she’d asked him too. He wondered if she knew how much information about her there’d been, between the lines. Nebraska had said she closed her eyes when she made love. Nebraska had a romantic idea about how Erin gave everything she had, as though it were the reason she didn’t open them during sex.
Hotch had different ideas. It may have been arrogant to assume he knew her better than Nebraska, but Hotch didn’t see what Nebraska saw. He saw Erin hiding. Not only did he want sex with him to be different for her than it was with Nebraska, but selfishly Hotch wanted her to remember his face as he fucked her. It was possessive and primitive, but that was exactly how she made him feel.
“Open your eyes, Erin.”
She did, but she seemed confused. He’d stopped moving, but as her eyes opened, he began to thrust. Her eyes slid shut again.
“Keep them open. Nebraska’s journal said you close your eyes during sex. I’m not Nebraska. I want to make sure you remember that.”
Her brow knit together. “I know you’re not him.”
He pulled out and thrust in, hard. She made a soft noise. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” she breathed.
He bent down, talking huskily into her ear. “But you miss him. Do you miss the way he fucked you, Erin?”
He winced when he said it. The words sounded mean. He felt mean. This was Nebraska’s girl. His intended wife. Erin belonged to a dead man, and Hotch was screwing her anyway because he couldn’t help himself. He wanted her so bad his chest hurt. The more he learned about her, the more he knew she was the one who could devastate him. He hated that weakness and hated that she would always belong to another man. A better man. A man Hotch could never be.
“Don’t,” she whispered back. She touched his cheek, seeming to know his doubt and pain.
He thrust deep again. “Feel me, Erin.” His voice cracked. “I’m not Nebraska. I never will be, but when we’re like this, don’t shut me out. Keep your eyes open.” Don’t imagine Nebraska is still alive and fucking you, he finished silently.
Chapter Five
Erin rolled away from Hotch when they’d finished. What they’d done couldn’t really be called lovemaking since it had been more about marking territory than anything else. He felt a little sick about it, but he’d made sure she’d come before he let himself go.
From her breathing and the tension in her body, he could tell she wasn’t sleeping.
“Sex isn’t a weapon,” she said almost too quietly.
“I don’t want to share you with a memory,” he answered.
She rolled to face him. “That’s a little futile, don’t you think? You can’t tell me there are women you’ve slept with that you never think about again.
Hotch’s fingers teased her pussy lips open. He slipped in a finger and began a casual figure eight around her already sensitive clit.
“Hotch, I’m going to kill you slowly if you don’t stop playing with me and start fucking me,” she said on a groan.
“That’s a first,” he murmured, coming off her nipple.
“At the risk of sounding like a guy, would you just get on and ride me? I don’t think I can stand any more foreplay.”
Hotch laughed but he grabbed the condoms and fitted one on. He positioned himself between her legs, and in one swift move, penetrated her. Her sudden involuntary cry of pleasure echoed his. Already her cunt clenched around him with a fine shiver. Erin bit her bottom lip, and when her eyes opened again, they were hazy green.
They’d fucked before, but it had been in a rush or in the dark both times. This time he wanted to savor the moment, every sigh she gave, every second she lost her cool veneer to pleasure made tiny changes of her facial expressions.
He’d been reading Nebraska’s journal, just as she’d asked him too. He wondered if she knew how much information about her there’d been, between the lines. Nebraska had said she closed her eyes when she made love. Nebraska had a romantic idea about how Erin gave everything she had, as though it were the reason she didn’t open them during sex.
Hotch had different ideas. It may have been arrogant to assume he knew her better than Nebraska, but Hotch didn’t see what Nebraska saw. He saw Erin hiding. Not only did he want sex with him to be different for her than it was with Nebraska, but selfishly Hotch wanted her to remember his face as he fucked her. It was possessive and primitive, but that was exactly how she made him feel.
“Open your eyes, Erin.”
She did, but she seemed confused. He’d stopped moving, but as her eyes opened, he began to thrust. Her eyes slid shut again.
“Keep them open. Nebraska’s journal said you close your eyes during sex. I’m not Nebraska. I want to make sure you remember that.”
Her brow knit together. “I know you’re not him.”
He pulled out and thrust in, hard. She made a soft noise. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” she breathed.
He bent down, talking huskily into her ear. “But you miss him. Do you miss the way he fucked you, Erin?”
He winced when he said it. The words sounded mean. He felt mean. This was Nebraska’s girl. His intended wife. Erin belonged to a dead man, and Hotch was screwing her anyway because he couldn’t help himself. He wanted her so bad his chest hurt. The more he learned about her, the more he knew she was the one who could devastate him. He hated that weakness and hated that she would always belong to another man. A better man. A man Hotch could never be.
“Don’t,” she whispered back. She touched his cheek, seeming to know his doubt and pain.
He thrust deep again. “Feel me, Erin.” His voice cracked. “I’m not Nebraska. I never will be, but when we’re like this, don’t shut me out. Keep your eyes open.” Don’t imagine Nebraska is still alive and fucking you, he finished silently.
Chapter Five
Erin rolled away from Hotch when they’d finished. What they’d done couldn’t really be called lovemaking since it had been more about marking territory than anything else. He felt a little sick about it, but he’d made sure she’d come before he let himself go.
From her breathing and the tension in her body, he could tell she wasn’t sleeping.
“Sex isn’t a weapon,” she said almost too quietly.
“I don’t want to share you with a memory,” he answered.
She rolled to face him. “That’s a little futile, don’t you think? You can’t tell me there are women you’ve slept with that you never think about again.
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