nina cried power [SPENCER REID]

thirty-six.

A smile appears, her lower lip between her teeth. "We never finished our game of chess."

Spencer breathes a laugh. "You really think you had a chance?" he asks, and to test the waters he kisses her neck softly.

She sighs, as if in relief. "I'd never let you win."

He lowers his mouth, hands touching her back again, as hers slide from his shoulders to the little hairs at the back of his neck. "I always win," he teases, as his finger slide to her pants. As he smudges kisses across her collarbone, he simply touches the cotton fabric over the elastic waistband along the small of her back, toying with it with the finger and thumb of his left hand, as the right lifts to her face. He cranes his neck to look at her. "Is this okay?" he whispers, almost invisibly.

Her eyes open. It sends a jolt through him. She nods.

Still gentle, he pulls her into him, pressing his mouth to hers as if the kiss can speak for him. Words could so easily reassure her -- something like I'll be gentle, or We can go slow, or even We don't have to do this at all -- but he cannot think of them, or even try to make them come out, when her body clings this close to his, warm and soft and smelling of his own fucking soap and fabric softener.

"On top, or do you wanna lie down?" he asks. Having been given permission, one hand slides down beneath her waist, fingers digging into her ass without hesitance.

Nina pulls in a sharp inhale, but it's followed by a giggle, all as Spencer's eyes almost roll back in his head. "I'll lie down," she murmurs.

Spencer doesn't hesitate. Hands around her knees, he flips her legs up and over, pushing her back into the mattress. Her head almost hits the board at the base of his bed, and she's laughing all the while as she bounces slightly. Spencer kisses her once, hard, before sliding his hands down her arms (he knows to avoid her stomach and chest after what happened earlier) before going to her pyjamas, fingers curling around the band..

His eyes raise to hers for permission.

She nods eagerly, raising her hips up.

Spencer yanks them off, tugging them off one heel then the next, and they go in the corner of the room by his own abandoned shirt and trousers. She's bare underneath, and as his hands smooth over the pale skin of her hips, he groans a, "Fuck." That makes her laugh, and he joins in after a moment, embarrassed by himself.

He meets her eyes with a smile and she raises her arms, open and clawing for him, and he happily sinks into them. Kissing her as her arms and legs embrace him is like coming home after a long day and breathing a sigh of relief; she smells like the comfort of his own cooking and deodorant and candles.

Letting his tongue poke out between kisses, suckling in places and nibbling in others, he starts the journey down her body. He avoids the stomach, but he's happy to bury his face between her breasts and suck a dark mark onto the skin, all as his hands squeeze like he's a horny teenage boy -- and Nina laughs because he's behaving exactly like one. Absently he's even grinding his hips into the bedsheets slightly, seeking friction.

But he bites away her laughter when he takes a nipple in his mouth, eyes watching her face as he does so, and he grins when she lets out a soft whimper and her head falls back.

"That's my girl," he mumbles, and that earns him another groan. His turn to laugh, picking himself up above her and taking her chin in his hand. "You like that? When I praise you?"

"It was more the 'my'," she replies. "Possessive pronouns are my weak spot."

He grins, drops the dominant persona, and kisses her before he happily returns to what he was doing. She pulls him deeper, one hand over his, squeezing at her own breast, and the other grabbing in his hair with a desperate surrender.