A/N: I've finally finished it! It was supposed to go up on Sunday, but I miscalculated my time, and then it was the story that was giving me a hard time… Anyway, here it is now, my third submission for the Skyeward Smut Fest, to the prompt word "craving."
Rated: M
Word Count: 2306
Disclaimer: [Insert funny text here that tells you I don't own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.]

Fifteen Minutes to Spare

When she first leafed through their newly obtained pregnancy books, Skye merely scoffed at the passages that mentioned a "heightened sex drive." Nausea, throwing up, dizziness, tiredness she could comprehend (she'd been there, done that), but one's sexual appetite taken up a notch during pregnancy seemed like a bogus idea to her, some empty promise to try and prove that being pregnant didn't suck all the time (okay, it didn't; it had its ugly sides, true, but it was kind of cool). Or maybe, that was her other theory, it was included in the books to create some sort of placebo effect – like, when moms-to-be read that they were supposed to want to have more sex, suddenly they realized that they wanted to have more sex.

Anyway, long story short: she dismissed this particular bullet point on the "what to expect" list as wishful thinking at once.

Well, at least until she got to experience it firsthand.

It wasn't that her sex life lacked anything before her pregnancy – no, quite the contrary; she had absolutely no complaints about Grant's performance (hell, she liked to praise it whenever she found somebody willing to listen to it), and they had a fun, and sometimes embarrassing (like that one time when Coulson caught them during the act in his office) sexual history. And it wasn't even that the quality or the quantity went downhill after they had found out about her pregnancy – it didn't put him off or anything (really, of anything, it might have even made him desire her more – male pride or whatever), it'd just maybe made their couplings a little gentler and more careful. And yet, especially since having had entered her second trimester – which came with a very much needed energy surge and the almost complete disappearance of morning sickness –, she had found herself… well, wanting more.

She wouldn't have called it a craving, mostly because she didn't have cravings. No, it was more like as if she had an itch which never really ceased itching, no matter how hard she scratched. And believe her, she had scratched it – she had just scratched it that morning, and thoroughly (in the end they were late from debriefing, and got a pretty angry glare from Coulson – apparently, being pregnant wasn't a Get out of prison free card in every situation), and here she was again, in the middle of the day, hornier than a teenager.

And it was something she was not willing to suffer for long.

Grant was out running an errand for Coulson for most of the morning, but was expected to be back soon, and she was on CCTV screening duty, which meant the perfect vantage point to the hangar door (she had enough screens at her disposal to dedicate one to this cause) to knew the moment he got back to the base. And so as soon as the black SUV rolled into the garage, she shot him a quick text.

Got fifteen minutes to spare?

Sure, why?

She didn't respond – well, she didn't see the point in it, considering that as soon as she got his message, she was already out of her chair and on her way to their shared bunk – where she knew he was headed –, smirking to herself.

She didn't waste time when she got to their room either – she registered his small smile as he was taking off his jacket when she stepped through the door, and saw that he was opening his mouth to say something, but didn't give him a chance to actually get anything out. Instead she quickly crossed the space separating them, and the next moment her lips were already on his, her tongue licking into his mouth, while she – just not to leave any doubts about her intentions – sneaked a hand between their bodies and palmed him through his jeans. His breath hitched in surprise, then he chuckled.

"Again?" he asked, his hands slipping into the back pockets of her pants, pulling her closer, when she came up for air, sliding her nose along his neck. "You really are having a craving."

"I'm not," she mumbled, eyes closed, enjoying his warmth and inhaling his scent in. Once again, she was not having any cravings. She just wanted to have her wicked way with her man, and maybe have some strawberries afterwards. "I just want you. Bad."

"You are insatiable," he chuckled, squeezing her ass.

"Are you complaining?" she asked, her hand growing bolder, just as she sucked on his pulse point, intent on driving him mad as soon as possible.

"Not at all," came his reply as he suddenly slipped his hands out of her pockets and under her thighs, hoisting her up, forcing her to put her arms around his neck and wrap her legs around his waist, and crushing their bodies together. "I'm not complaining at all." He stepped to the bed, and gently put her down on the mattress, leaning over her. "Never," he sealed the promise with a kiss.

She smiled against his lips. "So much talking," she whispered, slipping her hands beneath the hem of his shirt, starting to pull it up. He got the message and pulled it off, tossing it aside. Then it was him going for her shirt, easing it off of her eagerly, his gaze first resting on her breasts (yeah, she caught him doing that more and more lately), then moving down to the soft curve of her belly. He knelt down next to the bed, between her legs, and put his hands on the two sides of her bump, gazing at it with awe.

"How is she doing today?"

"Great. Hiccupping a lot," she chuckled, resting on her elbows as he watched him lower his head and press a kiss just under her belly button. Which was sweet and all, and she loved that he loved their baby this much already, but really, she wished he was this this lovey-dovey about it after he had taken care of… her itch. So she sat up, reached behind her back and quickly got rid of her bra, just to give him the right incentive. "Grant…" she said, sounding a bit whinier than she intended to, "I'm just about to combust here, and I'd appreciate it if you did something about it."

"What?" he looked up blinking, almost as if breaking from a daze. "Oh, yes, sorry." He caressed her bump one more time, then, already kneeling on the floor, he pulled off her shoes and socks. After that reached up again, popped the button of her pants open, and pulled them off of her, along with her underwear, leaving her gloriously naked in front of him.

He kissed her abdomen once again, much lower this time, and going even lower, until his mouth found her lips, his tongue slipping between her folds, teasing, pleasuring her, the tip of his tongue massaging her clit. She moaned, throwing her head back in ecstasy – this was almost exactly what she needed –, and put one of her hands on the back of his head, pushing him even closer to her.

Still, he soon pulled away from her – she moaned at the loss of contact –, wiping his chin and standing up, but only to get rid of his reaming clothing. As kicked off his shoes and opened his fly, she scooted back on the bed, her legs slightly parted, and watched him push his underwear down, his member, hard and erect and oh so delicious springing up proudly, freed from its confines. She bit into her lower lip, trembling with anticipation as climbed onto the bed as well, settling between her thighs and leaning over her – careful not to put any weight on her stomach –, and kissed her, licking into her mouth.

"Are you ready?" he asked, a hand sneaking between their bodies, seeking out her core as he dipped two fingers into her wetness. Her walls fluttered at the intrusion, and she nodded, not trusting her voice as his lips wandered down on her neck, sucking at her pulse point, then going even lower, kissing her between her breasts.

She reached down and wrapped her fingers around his length, giving him a confident squeeze, enjoying the feel of his hard dick, her walls already clenching at the thought of him entering her.

"Please," was all she said, but he got the message. He came up to her face once again, attacking her lips while he reached above her head and grabbed one of the pillows, pulling it down and placing it under her hips. Then he knelt up on the bed, brought one of her legs to his shoulder, kissing her calf and positioning himself at her entrance.

"Is it okay?" he asked, teasing her core with the head of his member, coating himself in her juices.

"Uh-hum," she nodded, eyelids dropping in pleasure, as she was quickly losing all power of speech.

He nodded and brushed a hand along her calf, wrapping his fingers around her ankle, then, with his other hand, he guided himself into her, sinking into her warmth slowly, making her breath hitch.

It was amazing – Simmons had talked to her something about increased blood flow in the pelvic area during pregnancy, and how it made things more sensitive, and although Skye didn't care much about the actual anatomic fact, she was sure of one thing: taking him in had never felt so intense as these days. His member stretched her deliciously, and she felt every millimeter sliding in, every throb, every little twitch, and it made her arch her back and clench around him and moan out loud.

Once fully inside of her, he stilled for a moment, his muscles straining, giving her time to adjust, then started moving, with careful, slow, deliberate thrusts, giving her a chance to adjust or tell him if she needed something else.

"Does it feel good?" he asked a couple of seconds later, grunting with effort to keep himself from pounding into her. At first, she could barely pull herself together enough to answer – he was penetrating her deep, reaching and hitting all the sweetest spots, making her tremble.

"Hm, yes…" she moaned, reaching up with one hand to fondle her breast. "Harder."

He did what she asked, increasing his pace, his thrusts becoming more powerful, but still holding back – not that she minded. She was lost in the feel of him, how his hard, thick member kept sliding in and out of her, while he kept hold of her leg with one hand and brought the other between their bodies, massaging and pinching her clit, rushing her towards oblivion.

She didn't last long; at one point he hitched her leg a little higher, changing the angle just a bit, but that was enough – he hit a particularly sweet spot inside of her with the next thrust, and it was enough to make her come suddenly, fast and hard, crying out his name as her back arched off the bed and her walls clenched around him, trying to force him out and trap him inside at the same time. Her mind went blank, and for a moment nothing else existed in the world, just him, her, and the pleasure coursing through her veins.

She was vaguely aware of him coming too a moment later, his member twitching inside of her as he shot his seed into her in powerful, hot spurts as his hold on her leg tightened.

He collapsed next to her afterwards – she whimpered at the loss of contact as he pulled out of her –, his chest falling and rising rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. She remained still for a moment, then turned to her side, towards him. She threw an arm over his abdomen and rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"Mmm…" she hummed, scooting even closer to him, lifting her leg and placing it on top of his. "It was nice."

"Nice?" She heard a slight tone of indignation in his voice, which made her chuckle against his chest.

"Really, really nice," she assured him, "superb, if you want me to say that."

"I'd appreciate that."

She giggled and pressed a kiss between his pecs, to lazy and sated to reach for his mouth, then yawned.

"I know I asked for fifteen minutes," she started, drawing nonsensical patterns on the edge of his ribcage with her fingertips, "but could you spare me some more time?"

He caught her wrist, brought her hand to his mouth, and kissed it.

"Don't tell me you wanna go again?"

She frowned, eyes still close.

"Not right now" she told him, clearly leaving room for later. "Now I just wanna take a nap, and I'm not willing to relinquish my pillow – and that means you."

He chuckled at that, then, trying not to jostle her much, he reached for the blanket on the end of the bed, and covered their bodies with it somewhat awkwardly.

"Well, weapons inventory is not really a time-sensitive issue…"

"Good. Then you are staying," she stated simply, interrupting him, her eyes closed and her body relaxing completely, basked in his warmth. But before she had drifted off, she had one more thing to ask from him. "Oh, Grant, do you think we have strawberries at the base? I could kill for some strawberries."