Now that the case was over and the adrenalin wearing off, the pain of her injuries was really starting to hit her. Morgan had been hovering around her the entire case and she just didn't have the energy to resist him anymore, letting him support her as she hobbled towards the hotel room.
Once he lightly kicked the door closed, she was immediately swept into his arms and carried to the bed. He laid her down on the bed very gently, not wanting to cause her more pain. Pressing a soothing kiss on her forehead, he smiled; it was a bittersweet feeling, he was glad that he finally had her all to himself, but seeing her in pain and knowing there was nothing he could do to take it away tore him up inside.
"Did the doctor give you any painkillers?" he asked quietly, gently running his fingers through her hair, probably the only part of her body that wasn't hurting.
"No," she smiled sadly as she sat up, almost wishing the doctor had. "He said over-the-counter Ibuprofen should work fine."
"Do you have any?"
"Yeah, it's in my bag..."
Morgan nodded and nudged her to lie back. "I'll get it for you, baby," he whispered, "Do you want to get undressed and go to sleep?"
"No... I want a shower; I feel so dusty and sweaty..."
"Okay," he smiled, "Anything else you need?"
"Can you just hold me for a bit?" Emily looked at him pleadingly, almost anxiously, like he would ever turn down her request.
He was about to make a joke, but stopped himself, sensing that she was feeling vulnerable and a little anxious right now and what she really needed was for him to be there for her. He gingerly pulled her to him, worried he'd hurt her if he held her too tightly.
He kissed her temple softly. "I was really worried about you," he whispered, feeling reassured just to have her in his arms.
She murmured indistinctly in reply, muffled by his chest. She just needed human contact, the feeling of his protective embrace and the sound of his heart beating softly. Though she'd never admit it, she had been really shaken up after the accident, realizing how close she had come to losing everything and right now, all she wanted was the reassurance of feeling close to the one she loved.
She unconsciously held him tighter, almost afraid that he would disappear if she let go. He pressed a kiss to her hair when he felt her grip his shirt, murmuring softly as he ran a soothing hand down her back, "You okay?"
"I just..." She shook her head. She didn't know how to continue or why she had this inexplicable urge to cry.
He didn't say anything when he felt her warm tears soak his shirt, just holding her a little tighter, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear as she cried.
Emily Prentiss had never cried in front of anyone since she was fifteen. She never wanted anyone to see her weak and vulnerable, but Derek Morgan changed all that. He broke down all her defences and the walls she'd built up over the years to keep people out and she didn't mind it at all. She loved him and trusted him enough to let him see the real her. She let herself run into his arms when she needed some comfort and warmth.
"I'm sorry," she murmured as her tears subsided.
He cupped her tear-stained face in his hands and gently wiped away the tears with his thumbs. Staring into her watery brown eyes, he saw the fear and pain and he felt his heart break for her all over again. "You have nothing to be sorry for, baby." Deciding that she needed her shower and a good night's rest, he smiled softly before gently suggesting, "Why don't you take a shower now so you can rest sooner?"
She nodded silently, hugging him tightly for a few seconds longer, then carefully moved towards the edge of the bed. She attempted to stand, groaning softly and almost falling back at the strain on her bruised muscles.
"Something wrong?" he asked worriedly, reaching out a hand to steady her.
"I can't do it alone..." she mumbled quietly, obviously displeased at the lack of independence her injuries had left her.
He was pretty sure he knew what she had said, but nonetheless asked, "What was that?"
She again looked at him desperately. "I can't shower on my own...it hurts too much..."
"Do you want me to help?"
Again, she said nothing, merely nodding. He knew she hated feeling so helpless, so he silently supported her as she walked to the bathroom, then helped her undress.
Entering the bathroom, Morgan contemplated for a moment whether or not he should lift Emily up on the counter to undress her, but decided against it because the unnecessary lifting might cause her more pain. Instead, he let her sit at the edge of the bathtub and she smiled softly as he tenderly brushed away stray hair from her face.
It was really nice to have someone you love shower you with attention.
Cupping his face in her hands, she brought him closer to her and let their lips meet in a loving kiss. She couldn't help but let out a whimper of disappointment when he broke the kiss. "I love you," he told her in a quiet murmur before moving away to get the towels and setting them on the counter.
Kneeling down before her again, he slipped his hands under her shirt and gently pulled it over her head, dropping it on the floor, not caring where it landed.
His touch was soft and gentle, almost timidly so, as if afraid she would break were he too rough. At the same time, the careful way he undressed her was tender and affectionate in a way that only he could manage, a way that showed, no matter how much he might want her, he would keep this chaste out of concern for her pain.
The part of her that, in the aftermath of the accident, longed for a human connection, to feel close to him, almost wished that he weren't such a gentleman; the way he loved her always left her feeling loved and needed, reassured that she wasn't alone.
He smiled softly as he enjoyed the view for bit after he removed all of Emily's clothes, but frowned when he caught sight of a purplish bruise blossoming on her left shoulder. "Baby," he murmured sadly and gently brushed his lips on the bruise as if to ease her pain a little.
As chaste and sweet as that kiss was, it sent a shiver down her spine. If he didn't stop kissing her like that, she was going to really want him in the shower and that would be hard to accomplish without hurting her more.
"You should undress too," she said, tugging at the hem of his shirt, "You're helping me shower, you'll get wet too."
He laughed lightly and complied, quickly stripping off his own clothes. He pretended not to notice as she whimpered in pain as she stepped into the shower, wishing more than anything that he could endure that pain in her stead.
He protectively kept a hand on her, steadying her, as he turned on the shower, hoping the hot water might loosen up her aching muscles in the interim until the painkillers started working.
He smiled softly when he heard Emily sigh contentedly as the spray of warm water hit her tired body. Slowly, he moved her directly under the spray of water and she smiled, burying her face in his chest. He stood with her in the shower, just holding her close to him as the water massaged and loosened the knots in their muscles. The quiet pitter-patter of the water against the shower wall and the floor were soothing to their ears.
After a couple of minutes, he switched the pulsating spray to a gentler rain and turned her so her back was against his chest. Running his fingers through her damp raven locks, he pressed a kiss to her temple and squeezed a generous amount of the hotel's shampoo in his hand, and began lathering her hair, giving her a relaxing scalp massage as he did so.
She turned slowly in his arms and brought her hands up to stroke his cheeks as he continued with the massage. "Did I ever tell you that you have very talented hands?" she whispered, kissing him softly.
"You're gonna get yourself in trouble if you keep talking like that, Em," he laughed as he rinsed off the shampoo.
"I'm okay with that," she replied, smiling mischievously. The way he was so lovingly taking care of her and the feel of his body pressed against hers made her willing to forget the pain in favor of a little more intimacy.
He almost laughed, thinking she was joking, glad to see that her sense of humor was still intact. But, looking into her eyes, he saw no hint of levity and realized that she as completely serious. "Honey," he said slowly, trying to find the right words, "You know that's not a good idea..." He kissed her forehead to soften the blow.
Her face fell a little, a hint of sadness leeching into her expression, but she tried to hide it. Instantly he felt bad, even though he knew they shouldn't try anything.
He remembered the time he'd been knocked unconscious when Foyet had pushed him through the plate-glass window; he remembered the following night, wanting nothing more than to not feel so alone, to replace the horror and depravity with the warmth and closeness of being loved by someone he cared about.
He kissed her softly again, this time on the lips. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered apologetically, hoping she would understand he was only refusing because he cared about her, rather than any lack of enthusiasm.
"You won't," she insisted softly.
He smiled at her words; he liked the fact that she trusted him enough to believe that he would never do anything to hurt her. "Baby," he whispered, kissing her gently, "I don't want to take a chance. I don't want to see you in pain again."
She opened her mouth to protest, but didn't get a chance to say anything because he covered her mouth with his. He kissed her deeply, their tongues tangling together, pouring his love for her into this kiss, but mindful that they shouldn't take things too far. The last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt again if they got too excited. He eased out of the kiss and chuckled when she let a displeased whimper slip from her lips.
"Shh," he murmured, "We need to finish showering and get you to bed."
She said nothing, though he sensed that she was a little wounded by his refusal. But turning her down required more self-control on his part than she would ever know. At any other time, he would have been more than happy to make love to her in the shower, but the fact that she could barely walk was enough to tell him it would likely do more harm than good at this point. Not to mention that she often complained of being sore after sex in the past and that was without being compounded to the pain of being hit by a truck.
He cautiously lathered soap over her body, carefully avoiding using too much pressure, especially since he was convinced she hadn't been still long enough to allow the doctor to accurately determine whether or not she had internal injuries. Seeing her various cuts and bruises, the angry welts, the seat-belt burn across her abdomen made his heart ache even more.
She sighed heavily and he quickly stopped, worried that he'd hurt her. "What is it, Em?"
"Why won't you make love to me?" She looked at him sadly.
"Emily..." he sighed, pulling her into his arms. "Baby, you don't think I want to make love to you? You can barely walk, I don't want to hurt you. I can't stand the thought that you might be in pain again because of me."
"You won't hurt me."
"You don't know that."
"I know you'll never hurt me," she insisted, grinding against him, feeling him hard against her taut stomach. "We could take this nice and slow...like that time we made love on the patio at the beach house."
"Baby," he murmured breathlessly, "We can't... You could get hurt. I need you to heal first."
"Reid told me endorphins are natural pain relievers... He's a doctor, you know." She pouted a little, working up her puppy-dog look, knowing he'd have trouble refusing.
He sighed in defeat. Whenever she set her mind on something, you could bet she was going to get her way sooner or later. "You have to promise you'll tell me if I hurt you, even a little," he insisted.
She nodded, quickly agreeing, though she had no intention of stopping once they got started. She wound her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.
He was still rather hesitant as he held her close, kissing back fervently, but he knew she wouldn't have pressed for this if she wasn't sure this was what she wanted. He was never very good at refusing her anyway.
Morgan chuckled as Emily attacked his lips with fervour, breaking the kiss to murmur against her lips, "Baby... Nice and slow, remember?"
"But..."
"Uh-uh," he shook his head, "No 'buts'. We have to do this slowly," he insisted, gently kissing away her pout. His hands gently cupped her ass and lifted her up; she automatically wrapped her legs around him as he leaned her against the shower wall. "You okay?" he asked, hoping that the lifting didn't hurt her.
"Yeah." She shifted her gaze to look him in the eye, "Don't worry about me, okay? Just make love to me."
He smiled brightly; she knew that he loved hearing her say that. He showered kisses on her soft skin and tried to ignore her talented hands roaming his body. Tonight was about Emily, about making her feel better. He had to ignore his own urge to pound her right into the wall. As he worked his way to her chest, he gently kissed the bruises and cuts on her shoulders, hoping that it would take away some of the pain.
He buried his face in her chest and kissed the top of her breasts, lingering a little longer when he reached her heart, reassuring himself that this was real, that she was alright. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't glad of the chance to show her how much he loved her after the scare of almost losing her.
He hesitated before entering her, knowing he was going to hurt her. She seemed to sense this, kissing his forehead and assuring quietly, "I'll be fine."
He knew she was ready, he could feel the heat from her core so close to his arousal and she was biting at her lip, her eyes shut in anticipation. He took his time filling her, allowing her time to adjust. He could see from her expression that it was a little painful and he almost stopped right then and there, but she didn't tell him to stop, so he trusted that she was alright to continue.
He paused for a moment, both for her sake and his. She smiled softly and kissed him gently. "You okay?"
"I should be asking you that..."
"I'm better than okay, Derek." She kissed him again, reassuring him, "I'm not gonna lie, it hurt a little, but I'm fine now."
"Okay," he breathed. She knew he didn't quite believe her; the moment she told him it hurt, she knew he'd blame himself for hurting her, but she didn't want to lie to him.
A little reassured, he slowly began to move, taking extra care to be gentle, trying to avoid putting too much pressure on her hips where her seat-belt had lacerated. It took tremendous effort on his part to maintain his cautious pace, the feel of her throbbing hotly around his length making him want to lose all control.
She clung to him tightly as he thrust into her, kissing him softly in silent encouragement. She arched against him, taking him deeper, wanting – needing – to feel more of him. She hummed in pleasure as he brushed the sweet spot inside her, all thoughts of her pain slipping away as each of his strokes built the tension inside her.
As they kissed, he moved his hand away from her face, tracing random patterns down her neck to her collarbone and finally, cupping her breast. She gasped quietly as his hand massaged her breast and he rolled her pebbled nipple between his fingers. He repeated the action several times, loving the way she moaned against his lips.
Tearing his lips from hers, seeing her eyes shut tightly, he murmured huskily to her, "Look at me."
She opened her eyes, following his gaze and watched his hand slide down her water-slicked skin, gently caressing the cuts, bruises, and abrasions on her ivory skin until his hand reached where they were intimately joined.
She watched for a moment as he massaged her clit, then shut her eyes again. The sight of him moving within her and his hand touching her was too much for her to take. She didn't want to come undone so quickly, she wanted – needed – to draw this moment out for as long as she could.
"Look at me," he said again, but this time, in a more demanding tone.
Once again, she opened her eyes and she caught the lust and love swirling wildly in his eyes. That was when she lost it. The feel of his hand working her clit in counterpoint to his thrusts, the sweet and almost overwhelming sensation of him moving within her, brushing against that very spot that sent shivers down her spine and now, the intense look in his eyes was too much for her.
She screamed out her release and he gently coaxed her down from her high by kissing and licking her flushed skin while murmuring sweet nothings against her skin. When she finally came down from her climax, she smiled and kissed him soundly. "Reid's right, the endorphins are good painkillers."
He laughed and kissed her nose. "I'm not sure if I'm okay with you thinking about another man when we're making love."
"Are you jealous of him?"
"That kid? No way," he replied smugly, "He might have the brains, but he doesn't have you. You're mine."
She laughed lightly at his possessiveness, kissing him tenderly as she murmured, "I love you." Looking into his eyes, she said in a low, sultry tone, "Come with me this time, baby."
He swallowed hard and nodded, "Yes." He caught her lips in a quick and teasing kiss, leaving her wanting more, then trailed open-mouthed kisses down her throat, nibbling tenderly at her skin as he began moving inside her again. Experimentally, he pushed himself deeper into her, carefully watching her reaction.
And when she didn't show any signs of pain, he allowed himself to be completely buried inside her. "You feel so good..."
Without another word, she wrapped her arms around him, drawing his lips back to hers in a slow and languid kiss. The rhythm he began was slow, deliberate, and careful as he pulled out to thrust back in, making sure he hit the right spot. He knew he couldn't last much longer; how could he when she was so wet and so snug around his hardness...
"Derek...right there," she moaned as he stroked her sweet spot.
He fought an internal battle between wanting to be gentle and wanting to take her hard and fast. He focused on slowing down, on bringing her closer to the edge.
But she was making it very difficult for him to keep things slow and tender. She was eager, moving against him, matching his thrusts.
"Baby," she panted, "Harder. Faster."
He groaned aloud at her request, the last thing he needed was for her to tell him to do what he wanted to but knew he shouldn't. Knowing that he'd hate himself for causing her more pain in the morning if he granted her request, he resisted the urge to slam himself into her.
"Can't do that," he murmured between kisses, "You'll get hurt." He gently caressed her cheek and looked into her expressive brown eyes; needing her to see that it wasn't that he didn't want her, but he didn't want to hurt her. "Don't make me do that, Em," he quietly pleaded, "I can't hurt you. Don't make me regret this..."
"Please," she begged softly, "It's okay, I'll be fine." She trailed her hands over his body, leaving trails of fire across his skin, urging him to be rougher. "I can handle the pain," she promised, "I want the pain..." He raised an eyebrow at that. "Please," she repeated, a little more desperately, "I need this..."
He sighed, her pleas breaking down his intentions. He wanted to give in to her, he really did, and the way her heat was pulsing hotly around him only made it harder to resist her.
Her soft lips teased the skin of his neck, licking and nibbling at the spot where his shoulder and neck met, that very spot that she knew would drive him half out of his mind. He already knew she wanted him to lose that gentle, nurturing streak in him for now and give her what she asked for, but he couldn't do it.
Shifting to tear his neck from her lips, he whispered softly, almost apologetically, "I can't give you what you want tonight." He lifted a finger to her lips when she whimpered. "Shh... I promise you this will be good... I love you, baby."
Dipping his head down to her chest, moving swiftly to take her soft breast into his mouth, he laved her pebbled nipple with his tongue. He kept up the action with his mouth and tongue, while swirling his fingertips in a feather light caress slowly down across her abdomen, tracing nonsensical patterns as he went along.
She sighed in defeat, knowing that he was only resisting because he cared so much about her. He hadn't even wanted to do this in the first place, only relenting because she begged him and because she promised they'd take things slowly and avoid the roughness that they weren't altogether unfamiliar with.
Nonetheless, he was steadfastly determined to give her release. He reached between her thighs and once again began stroking her clit as he continued his purposeful thrusts.
She leaned her head back, moaning softly, her breathing rapid; not that she would admit it, but her heavy breathing sent a sharp pain through her bruised ribs. She knew he had been right to insist on being gentle; she was lucky to have someone who cared enough about her to put her comfort ahead of their own needs, even when she begged him not to.
"Emily..." He kissed his way up her neck, to her ear, then finally, he let their lips meet in a desperate kiss. "So close," he whispered huskily against her lips as his thrusts grew erratic and his moans became more breathy. Knowing that he wouldn't last long, he stroked her clit harder as he thrust into her, stroking that sweet spot inside her as he did.
The sensation was too much for her...the feel of his lips showering kisses on her flushed skin, his finger rubbing intimately against her, brushing against her clit with more pressure at each pass, and his hard length moving in and out of her in firm thrusts.
With trembling fingers he moved her hair off her face, pinning the damp locks behind her ear. "Come for me, baby," he breathed, his gaze never left her dark drown eyes that were glazed over with passion and delight. He took in her beauty as she continued to move closer to her peak, her lips slightly parted as they moved together, the mesmerizing pink tinge to her skin that he knew wasn't because of the warm water, her wet hair hanging over her shoulder...she never looked more beautiful to him than in that moment.
Finally, with a breathy shudder, she reached her peak, shutting her eyes tightly as she cried out in pleasure. As the climax coursed through her body, he hungrily drank in the sight, her entire body tensing, her heaving chest, the way she arched against him. He lightly pressed a kiss to her pulse point, feeling her heartbeat rapid and feverish as he continued to pound into her in rhythm with the pulsing of her heat.
Having recovered slightly, she ghosted faint kisses along his jaw until she reached his ear. "So close, baby," she breathed, "Just let it go..." She couldn't help but marvel at his self-control for having held out for so long, but she wanted him to get his release, even if he hadn't intended for this to happen.
He managed to hold on for a few seconds longer before coming with a carnal, satisfied growl. For several moments, he could only wrap his arms tighter around her still trembling body as he attempted to come down back down to earth.
He was still breathing hard; she could feel the warmth of his laboured breaths on her skin and grinned a little, feeling a twinge of pride that she'd managed to so completely reduce him to this state.
Kissing her softly, he slipped out of her – much to her displeasure – and allowed her to stand on her own. His legs were still trembling from the climax and the last thing he wanted to do was to fall or worse, drop her. Holding her close, he tenderly caressed her cheek, "You okay? Did I hurt you?"
"I'm fine," she smiled brightly, "Don't worry about me, okay? After that, I'm pretty sure I've got enough endorphins that I could get hit by another truck and not feel it..."
He laughed. "I think one's enough." He kissed her forehead chastely. "Now, we really need to get you into bed or you're going to be exhausted tomorrow...and you know how suspicious everyone was when you were so out of it after that case in Vegas..."
"That one was your fault," she retorted, "The blame's all mine tonight."
"I'm perfectly okay with that," he grinned.
Shower finished, Morgan helped to dry Emily off with the towels he left on the counter and carried her to bed after he wrapped the towel around her. There, he helped her – even though she insisted that she could get dressed on her own – change into her pyjamas, which consisted of an oversized t-shirt she took from him and a pair of panties.
Slipping into a comfortable t-shirt and a pair of boxers, he watched her comb her wet hair as they talked about everything under the sun except work – Clooney's fascination with a squeaky toy, his mother's love for cooking shows, and their next vacation destination.
Once her hair was dry, Morgan gently nudged her to lie back and settled himself behind her, spooning her. Gently, he ran his hand up and down her arm and sighed; he still couldn't shake the feeling that he came so close to losing her. "Don't scare me like that again, okay?"
She smiled softly. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I didn't mean to scare you. But it's really not as bad as it looks."
He rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Next time, I'm making you stay in the hospital, no matter how much you insist you're fine."
"You don't have to be so overprotective, you know," she said, "I can take care of myself, I'm a big girl."
He laughed quietly. "A very stubborn one. It's my right as the boyfriend to be overprotective and worry about you. I've gotta take care of the one I love."
"I love you too," she murmured, trying to resisted smiling foolishly at his earnest sentiment. A beat of contented silence passed before she spoke up again. "But if you try and make me stay in the hospital, I won't hesitate to hurt you."
"I'm sure you would, Princess, I'm sure you would." He lovingly ran his hand through her raven locks, lulling her to sleep when he caught her stifling a yawn. "Go to sleep, baby. You need it."
"You're right, I need sleep," she mumbled sleepily, her eyelids fluttered closed and then open again. "I love you."
It didn't take long for her to be drawn into dreamscape and, as her breathing evened out, he pressed another kiss on her neck. "I love you and I'll always take care of you." Finally, he rested his head next to hers on the pillow and quickly fell into a deep sleep. It had been a long case for him too.