DISCLAIMER: Criminal Minds and its characters are the property of CBS. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for the 2011 femslash_today's Green Beer & Kisses: The [Totally Not] Annual Porn Battle. Prompt: Foreign Language Fetish. Thanks to the wonderful Debbie for the quick beta.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To darandkerry[at]yahoo.com
Till We Meet Again
By Ann
Paris, France: August 15, 2011, 12:01 a.m.
I've missed this; the feel of her skin against mine, so soft, so smooth, and her hands – God, her hands – the way they trace every contour of my body, sometimes soft and gentle and other times hard, bordering on rough. She knows what I like, she knows what I want; she's the only one who's ever known.
"Si doux," she whispers as she kisses her way past damp curls to where I need her most. My wetness greets her, as it always does, and she smiles against my folds, hesitating only seconds before she spears that talented tongue inside me. I jerk my hips, beckoning her to hurry, to take me, to make me come. Instead, she slows her movements, leisurely working her tongue in and out and stopping completely each time I try to increase the pace. I moan in frustration and she takes pity on me as she slides one finger and then two deep inside. She builds a steady rhythm and swipes her tongue over my hard, swollen clit. I moan louder and she raises her head and pins me with those dark eyes.
I struggle to keep eye contact, so close to coming I could scream. She smiles and moves to hover above me, her fingers pumping faster and faster, the heel of her hand pressing down hard.
"Je t'aime, mon cœur," she says softly, pushing me over the edge. I scream her name over and over again. God, I love it when she speaks French.
Barcelona, Spain: December 24, 2011, 11:15 p.m.
I'm like a woman possessed. Four months is an eternity, but it's a price I'm more than willing to pay. One week, every few months, with her is more passionate, more intimate, than most people share in years and years of marriage.
She whimpers when I tease her nipple with the tip of my tongue, and I smile against pebbled flesh as I ease my hand lower. Lifting up slightly, she pushes her breast against my mouth and spreads her legs in invitation. I don't hesitate to take her up on her offer. My lips eagerly wrap around her swollen bud and my fingers slide through her wetness. She whimpers again and I release her nipple and kiss my way down smooth, silky skin, stopping when I reach the scar that is responsible for keeping us an ocean apart. Gently, reverently, I trace my tongue along its edge and she shivers. With one finger, I push inside velvety walls and her whimper turns to a moan. Two fingers and I run my tongue over the length of the scar.
"Por favor," she begs and grips the sheet tightly, balling the fabric into the palm of her hand. I increase my pace and keep my focus on the edges of her scar, working my tongue around the rough skin. "Por favor, mi amor," she says louder and I thrust faster and faster until she finally comes hard.
Sitting up, I look down at her flushed face. Her eyes are closed and she's breathing hard. I push a lock of dark hair from her forehead and wait. Finally, she opens her eyes and looks up at me with an adoring smile on her face.
"Te quiero," she whispers as she reaches up to pull me to her. We kiss slowly, passionately. God, I love it when she speaks Spanish.
Rome, Italy: February 14, 2012, 6:37 p.m.
I show up at her hotel unannounced, probably not the best idea I've ever had, but my eye doesn't hurt nearly as bad as it did when she first knocked the door into my face. No, at the moment, with her mouth sucking my clit and her fingers working me into a frenzy, my eye doesn't hurt one bit, not even when I screw it closed as tightly as I am now.
She hums softly and I spread my legs even further apart in anticipation of the most amazing tongue flick ever. Here it comes… 1, 2, 3!!! My hips almost shoot off the bed, but she manages to keep her position – her glorious, finger-fucking, clit-sucking position. I come so hard I see stars behind my closed lids, and I'm not actually sure what planet I'm on, much less what country I'm in.
When I become more aware, there's a low, sexy voice whispering in my ear.
"Ti amo."
Her hand moves between my legs and I become instantly wet again. God, I love it when she speaks Italian.
Till We Meet Again…
The End