Powerless

Chapter 14

You tug down his boxers, licking a stripe up the underside of his shaft, carefully tracing the prominent vein with your tongue. He lets out a ragged breath, hand gently placed on the top of your head, showing restraint by applying no pressure. Taking his tip into your mouth, you ease down onto his cock, making sure to look up at him with doe eyes.

"So pretty with my cock in your mouth," he sighs, thumbing your cheek. You take him further, hollowing your cheeks and using your hand to add to the experience. "Yeah, just like that sweet girl. You're doing so good."

You hum in response, the vibrations causing him to buck his hips up, a flustered apology leaving his lips immediately. His fingertips massage the crown of your head, guiding your movements but not forcing them. He knows you'll take him deep all by yourself.

"Close," he mutters, moans and what you could've sworn was a whimper leaving his lips. He was letting you take the lead, fully relinquishing control as you blow him in a way that can only be described as sensual. Maybe even loving. Yeah, a loving blowjob. Your attention snaps back to him as he cums down your throat with a stifled moan, abdomen tensing and fingers tugging your hair. "That's my good girl-shit-yeah take it all."

"Did I do good?" you ask, knowing the answer but wanting to play along as his sweet, needy little sub. He nods exasperatedly, holding his arms open and kissing your temple when you snuggle up to him.

"You always do," he murmurs. You sit in silence for a few moments until a knock at the door startles you both. Spencer groans. "Son of a bitch. They're clearly doing it on purpose, now."

"I'll get it," you place a hand on his chest sweetly, throwing a pair of shorts on under your oversized CalTech shirt. Well, not exactly yours. Bare feet padding over to the front door of the cottage, you turn the knob with a scowl on your face. "What do you want?"

"Well damn," Emily chuckles, holding her hands up in surrender. "We wanted to see if you two were going to be joining us for the last poolside brunch. But from the looks of it, you have other plans."

"It's early," you respond, turning around to find a clock. The small, unused stove in the kitchenette lights up: 12:19 pm. Shit. "Oh god, we must've slept in. That never happens."

"Rough night?" your friend jokes, and you blush, shaking your head. "Don't worry. We had a late start anyways, Hotch and Garcia are both having slow recovery times. But Dave made Bloody Mary's!"

You look over her shoulder to see the team sitting around the table, Hotch's posture slumped with dark sunglasses resting on his face despite the cloudy day.

"We'll be out in a few," you promise, closing the door and walking back toward the bedroom. Spencer looks at you expectantly, patting the spot next to him. You stay standing. "We should really go out there, you know."

The man groans, dramatically hiding his face in a pillow. He didn't need to say it for you to know what's on his mind. This is the last morning things will be how they have been the past few weeks. Waking up in each other's arms, sharing morning breath tinged kisses and lazy touches. 

"It's not like we're never going to see each other again," you crawl into bed, kissing up his shoulder to his collarbone, finally settling on his cheek. His eye peers out from beneath the pillow before throwing it aside entirely, turning to face you. "We live 10 minutes apart, Spence. Plus we'll see each other at work. And on nights we're in hotels we can sneak to each other's room for secret rendezvous." 

"I don't want secret rendezvous," he says plainly. "I want you. I want to be able to kiss you and hold your hand and protect you without anyone saying we can't."