A/N: So, I've been accused of being the devilish mastermind behind the Twitter HotLy Smut Challenge #1: Strangest Places for Hotch & Emily To Have Sex, along with Tigerlily. Twin Tigers of Smut? Meh, maybe, but didn't we ALL win in the end? I like to think of our Twitter chats as intellectual exercises where writers challenge each other to explore new avenues and push each other's creativity. See, it's all very brainy. It just happens to result in HotLy smut every now and then. But it's still creative! So here is my entry and word of warning, I come by my Twitter nickname: "Angst Pimp" for a reason. This is kind of angsty smut.
"Why don't I ride down with Agent Prentiss?"
Hotch glared at the speaker, the local detective they had been working with, Mark Bishop. He was a tall man, around Hotch's height with dark hair and dark blue eyes. He was lean and athletic and aside from the eye color, so closely resembled Hotch both physically and how they conducted themselves professionally, that they could have been brothers.
They hated each other almost from the beginning.
It started off as mere jockeying by two alphas, nothing serious and nothing either man wasn't used to so no one, even the two men in question, had made a big deal out of it. Until Bishop laid eyes on Emily Prentiss. From that point on, he had relentlessly flirted and pursued her, and the relationship between Hotch and the detective had deteriorated from there. Worst yet, Emily had responded to Bishop's overtures, further irritating Hotch. But there wasn't a damn thing the Unit Leader could say or do about it, not after what had happened between himself and his brunette agent.
It was soon after Emily had rejoined the team. They had a moment alone in his office where he had a chance to privately welcome her back and somehow, he had wound up kissing her. A kiss she had returned. They had both come to their senses before it went much further than that, and she had agreed when he said that they had to be "professional" about this and their relationship. She had given him a measured look, but then coolly nodded her head and simply bade him "good night" before she turned around and left. The next day, it was as if nothing had happened and while he was relieved that they managed to avoid any awkwardness, he couldn't help but feel saddened and empty as well by her lack of response. Hotch knew his own stomach was tied up in knots every time he was near her, but Emily truly acted as if the kiss never happened.
That was when he threw himself into that ill-advised relationship with Beth. There was nothing wrong with her, they were simply incompatible and he realized when he was with her, he was trying to be someone he wasn't. She took their break-up well, having not been together long and she herself realized she didn't want to date a man who's job took up so much of his time.
And all through this, Emily kept this distance between them. He knew she was dating, having overhead some of her conversations with JJ and Garcia. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying the dating scene. After a late night call brought the team back into the Bureau, Emily had come strolling in wearing a deep purple cocktail dress and high heeled sandals that made her legs look a mile long. It was obvious she had been spending her time with a man and she looked irritated that her date had been interrupted. It was all Hotch could do to not stare at her or snap at her. A part of him was annoyed that she seemed to be getting on and not merely sitting around obsessing over that kiss, like he had been doing even while dating Beth.
Though he said they needed to keep their relationship "professional", since that night his thoughts had become more and more unprofessional where Emily Prentiss was concerned. And then this case came up.
They had been tracking a survivalist who had been killing campers in the Utah mountains. They had followed him to a remote spot that required them to take a mountain tram car up halfway. It was an isolated spot and the antiquated tram was not open to the public. It was only for the park rangers' use and Hotch and his team had looked doubtfully at the car's reliability. The rangers who assisted them in the search for the killer assured them it was quite safe and reliable.
They had spent most of that spring day hunting for their killer and finally managed to capture him. The tram would only fit six people. With the local law enforcement officers and the rangers, they had a total of twenty people to transport, including the suspect. Two cars had already gone down with the suspect, some of the local officers, and the rangers. All that were left on the mountain were Hotch's team, Bishop and one more ranger.
The ranger had asked to go on this car which left either two of his team to wait for the car to come back up or one of his team with Bishop. At the detective's suggestion, Hotch saw Emily's eyes light up and that pushed the team leader to act.
"I believe your captain is waiting for a report from you, Detective," Hotch said in his cool voice. Everyone looked at him in surprise. "I think its best that you go down in this car so you can report in. Agent Prentiss and I can wait up here."
Emily frowned at him while his own team looked at him in mild surprise. Bishop's gaze narrowed at Hotch, but he didn't want to seem rude and confrontational with the man who had just helped him catch a serial killer, especially not in front of the beautiful brunette he was trying to impress.
"Sure," Bishop said hesitantly. He smiled at Emily. "Catch you down at the other end. Maybe we can have dinner tonight?"
"I'd like that," she told him with a soft smile that made Hotch want to snarl and snap at both of them. He could feel his possessive side taking over as he watched Emily and Bishop interact. All week the man had made sure he took every opportunity to touch her in some way. A pat on her hand, another hand to help her negotiate some rough terrain, and now, he was reaching up to tuck a wayward strand of hair back behind her ear.
No way was Bishop riding alone with Emily.
The ride down the mountain and back took about an hour; thirty minutes each way. That was too much time for Prentiss to be alone with a wolf like Bishop. Not knowing much about the man, Hotch had ruthlessly classified him as a predatory gigolo and convinced himself of the accuracy of this unfounded assessment. Besides, it was best if Prentiss didn't get involved with Bishop. Utah was a long way from Quantico. At most it would be a fling. Suddenly, images of Emily having a one night stand with the handsome detective filled his mind and he barely stopped himself from baring his teeth at the other man.
Emily stood and watched as the slow moving tram lumbered away from the landing to head back down the mountain. While her back was turned to him, she was hyper-aware of Hotch standing a few feet behind her. She was always aware of his presence, but as had been her habit the last few months, ever since that kiss in his office that he called a mistake, a lapse in judgment, she maintained a cool, professional attitude toward him which amounted to basically ignoring his existence. She continued to watch the tram until it disappeared from view and even then, she stood looking after it. When she felt him approach her, Emily spun on her heel and moved past him before he knew what she was doing. She moved over to where a few benches had been placed and pulled out her cell phone.
She needed a distraction. Since that kiss, she had managed to avoid being alone with Hotch, and for the most part he hadn't pressed the issue, not even bothering to pair himself with her until now. That night in his office had her go from pure happiness to utter devastation in the space of a single minute. When he kissed her, she thought that finally they were getting somewhere. Their relationship had always been fraught with difficulties. She wasn't even sure she could ever call him a friend. But there had always been glimmers here and there that made her wonder, made her hope, that he saw her as something more.
Then Doyle happened and she found herself waking up in the Bethesda Naval Hospital with JJ by her bedside, explaining to her what they had done, what Hotch had done. Emily had felt conflicted. Touched that he was willing to go so far to protect her, but angry that he did so with out her knowledge. It was the story of their relationship, the push-pull, the contradictions. When she was in Paris, she was no closer to understanding where she stood with Hotch.
When she came back, he quickly volunteered to take the burnt of the anger from the others and the Congressional Commission. Really, it was just Morgan and Reid who were angry. Rossi had suspected something was going on and the older man had simply resumed their relationship as if there had been no interruptions. Garcia was simply too happy to have her back to even consider being upset. Morgan too. It seemed whatever issues her good friend may have had with her, he worked them out during her absence. He reserved his anger for Hotch, though that simmering tension between the two men went farther back than Doyle.
But what of Hotch's anger? What did he feel? She finally got a chance to talk to him that night months ago when the bullpen was empty and only she and the man in question remained. But before she could ask him, his lips were on hers and his arms had pulled her close to him, wrapping her body in a vise like grip as he plundered her mouth. And she had welcomed it. Met his feverish kiss with her own hunger and Emily had thought, finally, finally she knew and her heart began to beat rapidly and soar when she thought that he felt even just a smidge of what she was feeling. And in that one kiss she opened up her heart to all the possibilities, all the dreams, all the good that she had always wanted in her life.
Then he had pushed her away and told her they couldn't do this. That he was sorry for his "unprofessional" behavior but it was a momentary lapse and they needed to forget that it had ever happened and that they needed to be "professionals". And with her heart opened, perhaps for the first time since she was a young girl, Aaron Hotchner had effectively torn it to shreds. She called upon every one of her skills at compartmentalization, every trick she had learned to hide her emotions so he wouldn't see the devastation in her face, in her heart and she had calmly and cool agreed with him. Then she had turned around and left his office without another word to him, but silently swearing to herself never, never again would she open her heart to this man.
That was why she couldn't be here alone with him because she knew that oath she swore those few months back was as flimsy as a cobweb floating in the wind.
As she sat on the benches, she could feel his eyes on her. She took out her phone. There was no reception up here on the mountain so she simply pulled up one of the few games on her smartphone. Perhaps a few rounds of Angry Birds would help her ignore the intense stare of the man she still wanted.
"Is that all you're going to do whenever we're alone together?" Hotch asked quietly after watching her a few minutes. "Just ignore me and give me the silent treatment?"
Emily continued to play her game for a minute and then said, "I'm not ignoring you, sir, I just didn't realize there was anything to discuss."
He knew that she knew the "sir" irritated him and it had its desired affect. His hand suddenly clamped down over her phone, covering up her hands and her game.
"There's plenty to discuss." She heard the slight twinge of anger in his voice. "Dammit! You know things haven't been the same between us since, well..." His eyes softened and turned sad. "I thought we were friends, Emily."
She shook off his hand and stood up, her body and face close to his, but her eyes and expression cool. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She needed to stay in control. She couldn't go through that again, even as it crept into her chest once more. He couldn't even bring himself to even say what happened between them. It was a kiss. A wonderful, toe-curling kiss that had her dreamy-eyed and seeing stars until he dumped a bucket of ice water on her by saying it was a mistake and they were too professional to let it go any further than that. "We're professional colleagues, Hotch. Your call if I remember correctly." Her voice was quiet.
His face darkened with irritation. She was completely twisting everything that happened that night around!
"That's not what I said! I said we couldn't take things further because we were professionals. We work together, Emily! We can't get into a relationship!"
Her face maintained its icy façade and she nodded her head. "Exactly. So we maintain our professional relationship and professionalism does not require me to make idle chit chat with you, sir." Her voice became even cooler, desperate to be away from him before he saw her crack. She would not let Aaron Hotchner see how he had broken her. The best defense is an offense, so she attacked. "And professionalism also would mean you didn't try to mess with my personal life."
Hotch took a step back, stung by her dismissal of their friendship, but also feeling guilty for what he did with Bishop. "What do you mean?" he asked in a feeble attempt to play dumb.
"You know exactly what I mean," she snapped. "There was absolutely no reason for you to stay here with me. Detective Bishop and I could have easily been the last two to go down the mountain."
Hotch scoffed at that comment. "Oh, that's keeping things professional, Prentiss! Flirting with the LEO."
Her eyes narrowed at him dangerously. "And what's wrong with that? The case is over. So what if I wanted to spend some time with him?"
He let out a mirthless laugh. "Is that what you call it?"
Emily's brow wrinkled. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, come on, we know Bishop was only interested in one thing and it wasn't dinner unless you were on the menu!" Hotch sneered, his jealousy taking over his mouth.
Her eyes widened at him. Anger filled her. How dare he? He could date any insipid woman who batted her eyelashes at him, but her dates had to be screened? He was the one who wanted nothing to do with her! Emily grasped onto that anger, happy to have some other emotion to focus on. "You arrogant bastard! It's none of your business what he might have wanted! I would have handled that however I saw fit!" Her voice took on a taunting note. "Maybe it was something I wanted too!" She started to turn away.
An image of Emily naked and writhing underneath Bishop as he plunged himself into her body filled Hotch's mind and a red haze covered his eyes. A small, still rational part of him was telling him to back off, but primal urges took over. He reached out to grab her arm and snarled, "He's not coming anywhere near you!" The movement caused Emily to stumble slightly as she was pulled back into his direction. Instinctively, to help balance her, he pulled her close to his body until she was pressed up the length of him.
Hotch nearly groaned aloud feeling her soft body melt against him. Her sweet and spicy scent tickled his nostrils. He could feel himself hardening having her pressed up against him and knew she could feel what was happening to his body.
He watched as her eyes widen in surprise and for a second, something else were in those dark orbs. Then anger replaced whatever emotion it was and she shrugged off his hands.
"I think, Hotch, you have no right to say who I can or cannot see and who I might choose to sleep with!" she snapped at him, trying to calm her racing heart. She had felt him, his want and desire and she could feel all her carefully constructed walls meant to keep Aaron Hotchner out start to crumble. She felt a wave of disgust for herself and her weakness and ruthlessly stomped down those feelings.
The arrival of the now empty tram interrupted them and Emily whirled around to move towards it. After a moment, Hotch followed her and they stood on the platform, each fairly vibrating with intense emotions that neither had an idea of how to deal with.
He wanted her. Hotch had tried to fight it. Hiding behind the shield of professionalism, unwisely throwing himself into a relationship that was doomed from the start because his heart belong to another woman. He wanted Emily so badly, it was all he could do to stop himself from reaching out and touching her, pulling her close to him and never letting go. Then seeing Bishop all but salivating over her had been the final straw. He would not let another man have her, touch her. But what was he to do? He had pushed her away and since that night, she had all but erected an electrified fence between them.
Emily was a complete mess internally. For months she had built up her defenses against him, convincing herself it was never meant to be because he didn't want it. Didn't he even go out and start dating Beth a few short weeks after their kiss. To him, their kiss had been a non-event, or that was what it seemed like to Emily. And she had followed his example. Now, he wanted to talk about it? No. She had been devastated that night by his dismissal. She didn't want to re-visit it. It was over. He moved on with Beth and she was moving on by getting back into the dating scene. Why was he insisting on torturing her?
But she couldn't stop her traitorous body from reacting to him. Even the slightest touch was enough to send her reeling and wanting nothing more than to have him pounding into her until she screamed herself hoarse. Her nipples hardened as they brushed against his chest. Her pelvis was pressed against his and she could feel a throbbing in her belly. He elicited desire in her from the simplest and most innocent of physical contact.
Anger, she had to tap into that anger otherwise desire would take over and she would find herself hurt all over again and this time, she wasn't sure she'd be able to take it.
The small tram lumbered its way up to the platform and then stopped. Emily unlatched the door and pushed it open. It was a transport that only the park rangers used so it lacked an operator and any amenities, but was fairly simple to operate. The door opened on either side, held closed by latches. Inside, there was a button that said "up" that started the tram up the mountain and one that said "down" that made it descend. An emergency brake, a phone, narrow benches on either side of the small car and some handrails lining the perimeter of the interior of the car made up the rest of the inside. A few hand straps passengers could hang on to if they wished to stand dangled from the roof of the car. Glass windows encircled the top half of the car offering the riders pretty views.
Emily stomped in and sat down on one of the benches. Hotch followed her, a dark, thunderous look on his face. He slammed the door shut and snapped the latches in place to secure it. With another hard slap, he pushed the button to start the tram's descent. He then moved over and sat across from Prentiss on the other bench.
He stared at her, knowing his scrutiny was making her uncomfortable. She wouldn't meet his eye, staring instead out the window watching the passing scenery as they tension in the car thickened.
Suddenly the car jolted to an abrupt stop, sending Emily flying forward. Hotch reached out to catch her and they both wound up sitting on the floor of the car, Emily sprawled across his lap.
"What happened?" she asked.
"It seems we've stopped moving," Hotch replied. He looked down into her face. "You okay?"
She realized then that she was draped over the man she was trying desperately to avoid in every way. She felt his grip on her tighten and he pulled her a little closer to him. Their faces were inches apart and she could feel his warm breath caressing her skin.
Hotch watched as Emily's eyes darkened and dilate with something else other than anger. A thrill went through him and he could feel the beginnings of a smirk cross his face, even as his body began to react again to her. She wasn't as angry and unaffected by him like she appeared to be.
The smirk was a mistake because she saw it and it was like a bucket of cold water. Her eyes narrowed and she frowned at him. Emily put her hands on his chest and shoved him away, trying to scramble to her feet.
The tram abruptly started again and she fell back down on top of Hotch and then it stopped. By this point, they were both becoming concerned about the safety of the antiquated tram. Hotch carefully disentangled himself from her and made his way over to the phone.
"Hello? Hello?" he said into the receiver. He jiggled it a little and then sighed in exasperation before he replaced the phone. He then pulled out his cellphone, but there was still no reception. He looked over at Emily who shook her head, indicating she wasn't able to get a signal either.
Hotch sighed and walked over to her where she was beginning to pick herself up off the floor. He offered her a hand, but she ignored it and sat back down on the bunch. He smothered the irritation bubbling up inside of him and resumed his seat on the opposite bench.
After a few minutes of silence, Hotch spoke.
"I'm sorry." At her arched eyebrow he sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She was going to make him say it. "I'm sorry for butting into your life. You're right. It was my call initially to keep things professional between us, so I had no right to interfere with you and Bishop." The other man's name came out in a sneer.
"So why did you?" she asked quietly. "You have Beth. You seem to have put everything behind you." Put me behind you, she added silently.
"Beth and I broke up a few weeks ago." At her surprised look, he decided he needed to be totally honest with Emily if he hoped to have even friendship between them. "We weren't compatible."
She blinked at him in surprise. He had seemed so happy dating her. Emily had overheard one conversation between Hotch and Rossi where the former had gone on and on about how wonderful Beth was. Now he was saying they weren't compatible? Her mind began to go down dangerous avenues, but Emily ruthlessly stopped herself. She couldn't go there. She couldn't open up those boxes again. Instead, she offered him a small shrug. "It's none of my business."
Hotch was growing increasingly frustrated with her. Every time he attempted to reach her, she shut him out. He leaned forward and stretched out a hand to touch her when she abruptly stood up.
She could see him moving towards her and panicked. One touch from him and she'd be a horny, blubbering mess probably sobbing, "pick me!" She had her heart dashed months ago, she wasn't going to risk it again.
"Let me try the phone," she said as she stood up and began to walk towards the other end of the tram.
At that moment, the car started up again and Emily was thrown violently into Hotch's lap. He caught her easily and tightened his grip on her, intent on not having her pull away from him until he could have his say.
Whatever he wanted to say died on his lips when she turned her face to his. He watched her eyes dilate again and this time he recognized part of what he saw there: desire. There were other emotions clouding her dark eyes, but that show of lust quickly took over his mind. He started to feel her, her soft, lithe body cradled against him. Her sweet scent filled his senses. The soft curve of her bottom lip just begged for him to suck on it. An overwhelming need took over his body and then, like what happened a few months before in his office he leaned forward and kissed her.
It was as exciting and memorable as their last kiss. She gasped in surprise when his lips pressed against hers and Hotch took advantage of the opportunity to thrust his tongue into her mouth. He leisurely explored it, letting his tongue dip and caress every crevice in there, re-familiarizing himself with it, all the while, silently coaxing her to take this leap with him.
Hotch was kissing her. Again. The rational part of her mind was screaming at her to push him away and deck him. This was a repeat of what happened in his office a few months ago and that had turned out so well. She needed to stop it before she got her heart broken again. But the rest of her was telling her to just give in, to give him one more chance.
He could feel her hesitation and pulled her closer to him, pouring himself into that kiss, trying to reassure her that this time, he wouldn't pull back from her. In his mind, he pleaded for her to take that step with him, to give him another chance. With his mouth and the hands that held her and stroked her body, he tried to convince her she was who he wanted. It had always been her.
She couldn't fight her traitorous body and heart and with a small sigh that could have been one of resignation, she started to kiss him back.
Hotch wanted to let out a primitive shout of victory when he felt her responding to him. Instead, he pulled her closer to him and deepened the kiss, showing her with his tongue everything he wanted to do to other parts of her body. The moan she let out increased his ardor. One hand plunged into her hair, pulling the fastener that held it up in a pony tail. His fingers threaded through the silken strands as his large hand cupped the back of her head to hold her to him while his other hand rested on her hip, trying to pull her body closer to his.
She could feel him trying to draw her further into him. Emily broke the kiss and swung one leg over to his other side until she was straddling his body and they were face-to-face. Then she began to kiss him again, hungrily, frantically and he eagerly met her carnal assault.
Their kissing became more urgent and the need to touch her more intimately was overwhelming to Hotch. His fingers, suddenly clumsy fumbled with the buttons of her shirt and before he even had it fully opened, his hand was plunging inside of it to cup one lace covered breast. He tweaked one hardened nipple.
Emily broke the kiss to let out a sharp cry as pleasure and pain radiated from where he was manipulating her nipple with his fingers. His mouth free, Hotch dropped it down to her neck where he began to suckle on the soft flesh there, leaving his mark while tasting her skin as his hand massaged her breast.
A gush of wetness flooded between her legs and instinctively, she began to move her hips, rubbing herself against the hardened bulge her core rested on. She could hear him growling into her neck as her movements forced every ounce of blood in his body to his cock. With impatient hands, Hotch pushed her shirt off her body and then reached up behind her to undo her bra.
Her breasts were bared to him. Hotch paused for a moment and pulled back to admire her. Emily sucked in air and realized what he was doing. She became self-conscious of the scars on her body and started to fold her arms across her chest, when he stopped her. Hotch looked up into her eyes and a lump in her throat formed when she saw what was there: his desire unabated.
There was no pity or disgust for the scars inflicted by Doyle. Just pure want and desire.
"Beautiful," he growled out, his voice thickened by lust. And she was beautiful in his eyes. She always had been, and nothing anyone could do or say would ever change his mind. His head dropped down and he took one breast into his mouth and slowly, torturously suckled on it.
Emily threw her head back and moaned softly. Her hands came up to thread through his hair and hold him close to her as his teeth, tongue and lips worked on one breast and then the other. This man was burning her alive and all her carefully constructed boxes were going up in those flames he was setting.
He wondered why the Hell he had ever fought against this as his mouth trailed over her delicious skin. Maybe it was fear, fear that he would fall so deeply for her that he wouldn't recover should she decide he was not what she wanted or needed in her life. Fear that if he ever lost her to an Unsub, he wouldn't be able to go on. Her time away from the team and that wall of ice she erected between them taught him though that having never had her at all made his fears insignificant.
She moved restlessly against him and he sucked in his breath sharply at the friction against his cock. He pushed her up off his lap and stood her up, his hands on her hips while he still remained seated on the bench. Her hands went to his shoulders to steady herself as his fingers moved towards the button and zipper of her jeans. He quickly undid them and slid them down her long legs, stopping to bend over and help her out of her boots and socks before removing her clothing. She stood there before him, naked but for a tiny scrap of lace covering her core.
Hotch looked up into her face and gave her a feral grin that sent anticipation and trepidation streaking through her. His fingers hooked into the sides of her panties and slowly drew them down her legs where she stepped out of them. She stood before him, naked in more ways than one.
She was a feast for his eyes and every nerve in his body felt alive and desperate for her. He looked up into her face where her bottomless dark eyes stared back at him with some unreadable expression and he felt a pang to his heart. This wasn't supposed to happen here. Not on some rickety mountain tram car in Utah. She should be in a king size bed on silk sheets with rose petals and candles strewn about the room and where he could leisurely make love to her. That should be their first time.
He was hesitating. Oh God, she thought. He was backing out again and here I am standing naked in front of him.
He saw her expression starting to become doubtful and despite their surroundings, he knew this was right, that they were right together, but that she still had doubts. If he hesitated any longer, she would run from him and never come back. He reached out to put his hands on her hips and gave her a small smile before saying in his deep voice, "Hang on, sweetheart."
She didn't have time to figure out what he meant by "hang on" when he suddenly pulled one of her legs up over his shoulder. Emily's balance teetered for a moment, but his hands held her steady until she could put her hands again on his shoulders. This brought her very close to Hotch's face and before she had time to really think about it, he had slid slightly down on the bench while boosting the leg on his shoulder up a little more and she felt his mouth right on her entrance.
He gave her no time to anticipate or prepare as his tongue slid right into her. At the first contact, Emily let out a surprised cry and threw her head back, her balance once again a little unsteady. Blindly, she reached out to grab one of the hanging leather handholds, as Hotch pulled her towards him and fucked her mercilessly with his tongue and mouth.
Good Lord. She tasted unlike anything he could ever imagine. Sweet, hot and spicy, he felt his cock throb as her juices filled his mouth and trickled down his chin. The flesh inside of her was soft and delicate, responding wildly to each caress. He found that hard bud inside of her and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue, causing her hips to buck and Emily to gasp out something unintelligible. He sneaked a peak upwards and saw her, hanging for dear life onto one of the overhead straps as she stood on tiptoes of one foot. He flicked his tongue over her again and heard her make a high keening noise as her muscles clenched and unclenched violently as she sailed over the edge.
It came upon her so suddenly and so hard that Emily almost blacked out. She felt herself pulled back into Hotch's arms and settled on the bench. She made a small sound of protest when she felt his body move away from her and looked up with bleary, pleasure-filled eyes as he methodically stripped himself of his clothing until he was standing naked before her.
His erection was large, jutting out before him and curling slightly upwards. She licked her lips and saw his gaze flicker to the motion. Ignoring his stare, she reached out to touch him and ran one hand gently up the length of him. A low growl erupted from his throat, but he allowed her to continue stroking him, watching her through predatory eyes.
Emily tilted her head upwards and she looked up at him as she moved her head forwards and gently took the tip of his cock into her mouth. Her moan was echoed by him and he swore quietly as the moist heat of her mouth engulfed him.
She suckled delicately on his tip, tasting the salty-sweetness of him that was already leaking out. The approving noise she made sent vibrations throughout his body and Hotch struggled to not grab her head and begin thrusting in and out of her.
Slowly, delicately, she tasted and teased him with her mouth, tongue and lips. One of her small hands wrapped around the base of him as her other teased his heavy sacs.
"God, Em, so fucking good," he growled out, not able to resist threading his fingers through her dark hair.
She hummed a response and began to increase the pace and the pressure. She was sliding him in and out of her mouth, grazing her teeth over his sensitive flesh, giving him pleasure and pain at the same time.
With a snarl, he pulled back from her, desire and lust making his eyes completely black. Wild need filled him. He was losing control, but he didn't want this to happen. Not this way. He wasn't going to come in her mouth. He needed to be deep inside of her when he did so he could mark her as his both inside and out.
With impatient hands, he pulled her to her feet and placed another hard kiss on her mouth. Her arms went around his neck and she returned it, both letting the other taste themselves. He tore his mouth from hers and then spinning her around, pushed her until one of her knees rested on the bench, her hands clutching the back of it.
Hotch thrust himself into her, hard and sharp, nearly embedding himself to the hilt in that one move.
Emily stiffened and cried out in surprise and some pain. It had been so long and despite the early orgasm, she was still tight and he was so large. Her head dropped forward to rest against the glass on the window.
Hotch stilled himself, her cry having cut through the rampant desire urging him to pound away at her, to take what he had wanted for so long. One trembling hand stroked her back. "Emily?" His voice sounded strangled and unlike his own. "Are you okay?"
"Give me a second," she said in a soft gasp. She could feel her body stretching to accommodate him. She forced herself to relax, to become use to the intrusion and soon, she could feel herself responding. That initial twinge of pain was being replaced by something more pleasurable. She took a deep breath and shifted her hips back, feeling Hotch slip a little deeper into her. She let out a soft moan that wasn't about pain.
It was killing him to remain still, but the need to not hurt her overwhelmed his own base desires. Then he felt her shift and he slid a little deeper into her. Hotch let out a low growl. "Emily…"
She moaned again and moved her hips, telling him she was okay and ready. "Hotch," she said softly, urgently. "Please."
It was all he needed and he drew back until only the tip of him remained inside of her before slowly thrusting forward. He did this several time, moving slowly, but deeply. Taking his time, drawing things out.
Emily whimpered as tension coiled inside of her belly. She needed more and began to move her hips, meeting his thrusts, but pushing back a bit harder, telling him she wanted more. "Harder, Hotch. Harder."
His thrusting began to increase, his hands gripping her hips so hard she would later find bruises there. Sweat beaded across his forehead as his deep strokes became faster, went further.
Her hitching breath became small cries and she could hear him grunting from his efforts. Moist skin slapped against each other and the smell of sex filled the tiny cabin. Her fingernails dug into the worn vinyl on the back of the chair, the only solid thing to anchor her to this world as he began to send her towards dizzying heights.
Emily arched her back, pushing back into Hotch as she felt the tension that was in her belly spread. Fire filled her veins and dark spots began to dancing before her eyes. "Hotch! Yes! Oh God!" Her cries became incoherent babbling as he seemed to move faster, harder and deeper into her.
"Emily!" he snarled out as her muscles tightened and grasped him, clenching around him as he dragged himself out only to plunge into her again. It had never felt this way for him before. Not with Haley, Kate, Beth or any other women he had slept with. More than pleasure, there was something else, some connection that went beyond the physical. And as he felt Emily's muscles flutter around him as her orgasm began, he knew she felt it too and despite what happened, Hotch vowed never to let this feeling go, to let her go.
She let go of everything and was sailing over the edge, crying out his name. Not his nickname, but "Aaron". That triggered his release and his smooth rhythm became jerkier, harsher and she could feel him emptying himself deep inside of her, filling her so much some of the semen ran out and down the inside of her thigh as he repeated her name over and over again.
She collapsed onto the bench and he collapsed onto her. Hotch shifted them a little so they sat sideways, him wrapped around her back as her cheek rested on the back of the bench. One hand held her close to him as the other stroked her bare arm. He had never known such happiness and contentment as he did in that moment. He placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder and whispered her name into her ear, "Emily."
He felt her stiffen slightly and frowned.
"We're getting close to the end," she said quietly. "We need to get dressed." She didn't turn around to face him, but stood up and with her back towards him, began to pick up her clothes and put them on.
His frown deepened and he could see her withdrawing from him, trying to erect those walls he thought he had managed to bring down and then he realized that wasn't what had happened. They didn't talk. They didn't discuss anything. They had simply made love, and he stubbornly called it "making love" because that was what it was to him and he knew if she was being honest, what it was to Emily. But they hadn't said what this meant for them, what they meant to each other.
He felt a small flutter of panic in his chest when he thought she might believe he only wanted to have sex with her. He glanced over at Emily sharply, but she was studiously avoiding his gaze though he noted the slight trembling in her hands.
Hotch felt a flash of insight. Of course, she was scared. Scared of what this meant, scared if this was going to be a repeat of the kiss and his reaction to it immediately afterwards. She needed reassurance and that he wanted something more. He had confidence that because they were so professional, they could make this work.
He finished retying his tie and started to reach out to her when the tram came to a shuddering stop. She slipped past him before he could stop her and quickly unlatched the door.
"Emily-," he began as he moved to stand behind her.
She threw back the door and they were immediately greeted by Rossi and JJ. Hotch smothered a growl of annoyance.
"Hey, we were getting worried," JJ said. "It took longer than it should have for the tram to come back down."
"It stopped a couple of times," Emily replied easily and while he couldn't see her face, her tone sounded normal. "They should service it."
"Everything okay?" Rossi asked cautiously, taking in both of the brunette agents' faces. He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to figure something out.
"Of course," Emily replied. "Why wouldn't it be?"
JJ smiled and linked her arm with Emily's and dragged the older woman forward. "Detective Bishop had to get back to the station, but he asked me to tell you that he can pick you up from the hotel at 6:30 pm. That gives us a little time to do some shopping. I saw a boutique close to the hotel."
As the two women started to walk off, Hotch couldn't believe his ears. She wasn't going to still go out with Bishop? He started to move after them but Rossi suddenly blocked his way. He gazed after the two women when suddenly, Emily looked over her shoulder at him, her expression unreadable and her dark eyes wide with a look he had never seen before. She turned back around and continued to walk with JJ as Hotch tried to decipher what her look meant.
"Aaron! Aaron!"
Belatedly, he realized Rossi was talking to him. With irritation written all over his face, Hotch turned to his old friend who blinked at him in surprise. The older man glanced at the tram and then back at Hotch who by that point had forced his face into its typical stoic mask.
"Sorry, Dave. What were you saying?" Hotch's dry voice asked.
Rossi looked at him, searching the younger man's face. He finally said softly, "It can't go on like this, Hotch. She can't take much more pain and disappointment. It's got to be full commitment or you just need to leave her alone forever."
Hotch stiffened at his friend's words, so plainly and simply laying out what was so complicated. But he knew it was the truth. He nodded. "I know. And I'm fully in it."
"Does she know?"
Hotch hesitated. "I'm not sure. I think she's scared. Uncertain."
"Then you'd better convince her soon if you want it to work," Rossi replied. "Bishop isn't going to give up on dinner and if she's running scared, she'll run directly to him. So if you want to keep the girl, you'd better act now."
A wolfish smile crossed Hotch's face and his eyes took on a hard gleam. Rossi looked at him and nodded his head in satisfaction. The alpha male was back.
"Oh, I don't intend to let her get away, no matter how hard she pushes back," Hotch replied. He started to walk forward, Rossi falling into step next to him.
No, not after he finally admitted to himself what he wanted, what he needed in life. Not after he had a taste of her, the experience of being deep inside of her. There was no way he was going to let Emily Prentiss walk out of his life ever again.
You can run because you're scared, Emily, Hotch thought to himself, but I'm always going to come after you.
A/N 2: I might be the last one to submit something so I just want to say thank you to all the writers who participated in the Twitter HotLy Smut Challenge #1. By the title, it indicates there will be others in the series and given the Twitteratti who participate in these discussions, I say that's highly likely. I hope readers have enjoyed all these stories. Thanks for reading!