A/N: My mind tripped and fell into the gutter… again. So, warning: contains language, sexual talk, and yeah… just a bit of naughtiness.
Disclaimer: No ownership is implied, I just like writing about The Brown-eyed Beauty and the Bug Man.
"You know, I was thinking," she begins, and then stops to give him one last kiss on the lips before rolling off of him and onto her back. They're in bed, completely sated and basking in the truly wonderful afterglow of some really fantastic sex.
"Mmhm," he murmurs, unable to form a complete sentence since his brain isn't functioning properly yet.
"You're sex on fire—"
He coughs violently, as he straightens to sit upright, clearly surprised by her words.
"You okay?" she asks and he nods slightly. The worry turns to amusement as his coughing subsides and his face begins to flush.
He clears his throat a couple of times before lying down again, and she turns to face him. "So uh, Sara, can I ask why?"
She contemplates her reasoning for a moment before she speaks. "Because fire is obviously hot and more than a little dangerous… and then the sex with you – I don't need to tell you how amazing you are—"
"Please do," he interrupts. He flashes a boyish grin and she sees amusement and desire dancing in his blue eyes.
She grins at him and leans forward, playfully nipping his shoulder and then soothing the hurt away with an open-mouthed kiss. Drawing back, she asks, "Where was I again?"
He narrows his eyes, she laughs.
"Oh, right. Sex with you. How could I forget? So, yeah… not like your ego needs stroking," at his pointed look, she concedes, "well, maybe one part of you does… I'll get to that later – but like I was trying to say, sex with you is mind-blowing, amazing; grab the thesaurus and look under synonyms for 'perfect' and that's what you are. You know my body… hell, you know my body better than I do—"
"I enjoyed learning," he interrupts again, his smile wicked and sinful and oh so irresistible.
"And I enjoyed you learning, you were a very very good student." Unable to keep from kissing him any longer (he is sex on fire, after all), she leans forward again and gives him a kiss that makes him forget his first and last name.
He whimpers – yes, actually whimpers – when she breaks the kiss and settles back on the bed and resumes talking. He sees her mouth moving, forming words, but he's still reeling from her kiss; thinking of exactly what those lips could do to him (all parts of him) if they pleased.
He tunes back in just as she says, "I thought multiple orgasms were a myth… until you." He can't keep his chest from puffing up at her praise, and he can't help another part of his body from responding the same.
"So, instead of thinking of you as just 'sexy', which you are, or 'oh my god, you are so hot, please just put me out of my misery and fuck me now', which I think quite often… I'm going to start saying that you are 'sex on fire'," she finishes and grins. "What do you think?"
He thinks that he wants her, now. "I think why don't we go back to that part where I put you out of your misery," he says, turning and moving suddenly so now he is on top of her, staring down into her eyes, "and see if this 'sex on fire' can put yours on fire… sound good?"
"Sounds go—" she breaks off as he slips into her, and talking becomes superfluous as the fire consumes them both.
A/N2: In my stories, he's been a stud muffin, a sex god… and now Gil Grissom is sex on fire – I think it might be my favorite description ;)
A/N3: Written about 3:30 in the morning, and inspired by listening to the song Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon. I'm pretty sure this story has no redeeming qualities to it; however, I still hope you enjoyed it.