A/N: This was written in response to The Smut Club's 'Smut Drabble Challenge.' The prompts I used were a bottle of water, a red silk tie, and a desk. I hope you like it, because there's nothing I like more than an angry, sexy Derek! - Angie

It was well after six o'clock, and Penelope was the only one left at the Behavioral Analysis Unit that evening. Her mission was simple: avoid fiancé for as long as possible. She'd had this insane idea that she and Derek should wait until they were married before having sex again. It had seemed innocent enough at the time, and really…what was two weeks? Well, if the ache between her thighs was any indication, it was a lifetime! And it was still only the first week.

She dropped the files that Hotch had requested earlier that day on his desk, and then turned to leave his office. And screeched in surprise. "Dammitt, Derek!" she chastised. "I thought I was the only one here!"

"This us not having sex before the wedding thing…bull shit!" her fiancé informed her.

Of course she agreed with him, but since it had been her idea, she could hardly tell him that. A girl had her pride, after all. "Well…when we finally do sleep together again, you'll be happy that we waited," she assured him.

"You know, you can't see it because I'm so dark skinned, but I think my balls are blue," he informed her heatedly.

The look in his eyes was one she'd never seen before. It was almost…rage. It was a little unnerving. "Derek…" she said in a timid voice.

He marched purposefully towards her, and she reluctantly moved backwards until the backs of her thighs hit Hotch's desk.

"Wha…what are you doing?" she asked.

He didn't say a word, just continued to stalk towards her. Penelope wasn't sure what to do, so she frantically looked around. Her gaze landed on the open bottle of water on Hotch's desk and she seized it, flicking her wrist so Derek's face was doused with water. That caused him to halt, but only long enough to run a hand over his face. If the scowl was any indication, she was about to get it…and probably not in a good way.

"Take your top off," he commanded.

"Derek—"

"It wasn't a question, Baby Girl," he said, his voice low, dangerous. Now this was a Derek she was used to; she was quick to submit, working the buttons of the purple blouse she was wearing.

"Derek—"

"Yes, I know," he growled impatiently. "The gates are closed. I'm not going to open them. Just warm them up."

She nodded, still uncertain, but willing to play along to see where this was going. Her body was craving his, too, after all. Her shirt fluttered to the floor, then he nodded his head towards her black mini skirt. "That, too," he insisted.

Wordlessly, she kept her gaze on his and reached behind to unzip her skirt. When it fell into a heap at her feet, he groaned. In typical fashion, his fiancé wasn't wearing any panties. The only thing in his way now was the chocolate covered satin bra covering her breasts. He closed the distance between them and lowered his mouth to hers in a punishing, albeit searing, kiss. His lips were hard, his tongue a driving force against the seam of her lips until she opened for him. His tongue stroked hers with furious passion, and then he pulled away all too soon, her bra straps falling down her shoulders. God, he was good. He discarded the article, and then put his hands on her waist, lifting her up so she was perched on the front of her boss' desk.

"Derek—" she protested.

"What?" he asked innocently.

She grabbed a frame from the desk next to her and thrust it at him. "Put this on the shelf," she instructed, motioning her chin in the direction of the wall on the right. "And make sure it's facing away from us!" She couldn't have Jack's eyes on her while Derek was about to do whatever it was he was going to do to her…even if it was only in a picture.

He did as he was told, then returned to his spot in front of her and moved the chairs in front of the desk closer. "Put your feet on these," he told her.

She complied and it widened her thighs for him. He stepped between them, but instead of reaching for her, he went for the red silk tie at his neck.

"What are you—?"

She watched as he pulled the tie taut with both hands and wrapped it around his fists, then groaned when he moved the fabric back and forth over the hardened peaks of her breasts. "Oh, my God," she breathed.

"Ya like that?" he asked with a sexy grin.

"Y—yes," she managed to get out.

After a few more strokes, he leaned down and gave her a quick kiss. "Then you're gonna love this," he informed her huskily. He used his knees to put more space between the chairs, effectively opening her legs so wide that her folds had begun to part.

He positioned the tie vertically between her thighs, and Penelope nearly came undone as he pressed it softly against her throbbing core, then moved it up and down repeatedly. "Oh, my God," she said again, her fingers gripping the edge of the desk to brace herself. She began moving her hips in rhythm with the tie, every nerve ending in her body on fire. "Oh, Derek," she said, panting. "I'm so close."

Her eyes flew open when he pulled away and she whimpered in protest. "What are you—Derek!" she shrieked as he began to walk out of the room. "You have unfinished business to attend to here!"

"Sorry, Darlin'," he said without turning around. "Nine days. And then we can finish all the business you want."

Penelope groaned. Maybe Derek would be willing to elope...right now.