DISCLAIMER: CSI and its characters are the property of CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

By MBInc


It was late, or rather very early as I carefully placed my key in the lock and turned it round. Opening the door I sneaked inside.

Since long I hated the fact that Grissom called me in, needing a pair of extra hands at last night's shift. I hated that I had to cut our night short –you had planned it all in detail. And so, as the case was put on hold due to DNA-results we had to wait for, I told Grissom I was going home.

Now, I enter our dark house, only a small source of light coming from living room. As I close the door I notice the table in the dining room –glasses of wine still full, plates filled with barely touched food, the only difference noticeable is the length of the candles.

Apparently you lost your appetite as well…

After locking the door I place my keys on the small table next to the door. I shrug my jacket off of my shoulders and hang it on the coat rack.

I walk into the living room and stop beside the couch. The small lamp next to it tosses its rays across the room. Glimmers in your hair show me you're still there –on the couch, asleep. Your face, so calm, is framed by your beautiful strawberry blonde hair and as I carefully sit down next to you, my hand involuntarily reaches out and finds its way through silken tresses of vanilla-scented hair…


The back of my hand caresses your cheek. So soft. The first time I touched you was almost the same; you were staring into my eyes, your blue pools practically drowning me. But your hand reached out for mine, and pulled me out of your sapphire sea. Your cheek, just like the rest of your body…


My thumb first traces your bottom lip, then your upper lip –lips I started to cherish, love, crave, want, need. Lips that told me everything, even when no sound was uttered by them. Lips…


I bend down, my breath caressing your lips, one hand still entangled in your hair, the other settling at your waist. The small smirk that settles on your face tells me you're awake and only a second later your sapphire pools are pulling me in again.

As one of my hands finds its way underneath your shirt and starts to caress the soft skin of your taut stomach, your arms snake around my neck and pull me even closer –closing the remaining distance between our lips.

You've pulled me that close that my hand is locked between our bodies, leaving no way out. Not that I would want that –not in a million years.

I pull back a bit as our kiss ends and have a good look at you.

"Beautiful," I whisper.

You smile at my comment and lean up as well, capturing my lips again, this time in a fierce, all-consuming kiss. I feel your tongue sneaking out, tracing my lips begging for entrance which I grant immediately –how could I deny you anything?

I push you back on the couch, settle myself on top of your body, my legs resting between your thighs, my hands at your sides, supporting my upper body. My lips leave yours and search a new path of enjoyment, finding their way along your jaw, nipping your skin every now and then only to soothe it with butterfly kisses afterwards.

Your breath gets heavier and your breasts moves up and down, nipples piercing through fabric and into my own, turning mine rock-hard as well. Your hands start to tug on the hem of my shirt, working the piece of clothing upwards, all the while softly raking your nails across my back. Goosebumps, butterflies, shivers –you stir so many feelings deep within me with just a single touch.

The restricting barrier of clothing becomes frustrating as it keeps me from being close to you –as close as physically possible. After sitting back up and removing my won shirt, I reach down and slowly start to unbutton yours. Provokingly slow my fingers nimbly work on each button, exposing more and more of your upper body along the way till I reach the last and push the blouse off of your shoulders.

I kiss your lips, your jaw. Trace a path down your throat, your clavicle –caressing every piece of newly uncovered soft ski. You taste…


My fingers start to trace the lacy patterns on your dark blue bra and I notice my touch doesn't leave you unaffected either.

Suddenly you seem to lose your patience as I feel your fingers fumbling with the clasps of my bra. You push the straps off my shoulders and take the piece of lingerie only to fling it to the ground.

Your hands cup my breasts, my sensitive nipples pushed into the palms of your hands, causing me to bite down on the skin at your clavicle –a moan reverberating through my entire body.

My love-filled mind has to make space for the lust that your touch evokes. More. I need more of you. I need you and me. Together. Us. I need your soul, I need your body. And though you've already told me, many times, I still feel the need to make sure you want me, need me –the way I need you.

I crawl back out of your reach and stand up. You look at me questioningly until I hold out my hand for you to take. You immediately do, entwining our fingers as you stand up in front of me. Your eyes never leave mine as I guide you towards the stairs.

As we take the first step it feels like we're entering the stairway to heaven.

Seventh heaven, that is.

The End

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