Author's Note: This is my first Criminal Minds fanfic so feel free to criticize, I can take it. I swear.

Ever since Emily first came on the show, I've gone back and forth on her and Hotch, to be honest but ever since episode one of this season, Nameless, Faceless, I've completely fallen in love with them. Seriously.

The idea for this post ep for Haunted, came from a prompt on a board that I write for regularly. The prompt was to take a line from the classic Police song "Every Breath You Take" and base your fic around that line.

Every Breath You Take Prompt

Section 17: I feel so cold and I long for your embrace

Stay The Night

Aaron Hotchner/Emily Prentiss

Rated: M for adult themes

Emily's fingers were barely grazing the cool metal of the gold doorknob, that would take her out of Hotch's apartment, when his command of, "Stop," had her fingers fall away.

Turning around her curious chocolate gaze met his intense onyx gaze and as always, her breath quickened and her heart beat a little faster inside her chest. Her brow furrowed as he stood across from her, but didn't say anything.

His name was about to leave her lips, when he closed the distance between them and his deep voice washed over her, "Don't go, Emily."

Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily.

Over and over she could hear her name . . . Her given name leaving his lips and her insides literally began to tremble. Her knees were already weak underneath her just from the intensity that always radiated from his gorgeous eyes, but hearing him call her Emily, made them significantly more unsteady.

Her lips quivered and her voice came out smaller than she wanted it to when she asked, "You don't want me to go?"

Hotch shook his head, several locks of his jet black hair falling in front of his forehead and her hands ached at her sides, wanting to reach up and smooth them away. He closed the small amount of space between them, his body just inches away from hers and she had to brace herself against the door, just so she wouldn't fall.

Warm, rough palms took hold of her face and her breath hitched in her throat, as he stared down at her. 'This is wrong. This isn't what a superior should be asking of their subordinate, but tonight I'm not your superior and you're not my subordinate."

A breathless murmur fell from her lips, while heat surged through her body. "Tonight you're not my superior and I'm not your subordinate?"

Lips that she had fantasized about feeling against hers, descended and they were better than she could have imagined. Warm, slightly chapped and were able to mold perfectly against hers.

Amongst her whimper of protest, the perfect lips pulled away and the heat her body already had surging through it, was only intensified by his deep voice. "I need to forget . . . To forget what happened here. To put it behind me and only you can help me. When you're here . . . The cold that threatens to eat away at me, the memories that won't leave when I close my eyes, it's all gone. All of it. And tonight ... All I want to think about . . .To feel . . .Is you, Emily."

For once words have escaped her. Her well educated brain has been reduced to mush. Her lips can only manage a breathless murmur of, "Hotch," as she nods her head giving him the permission she knows he desires.

His solid, warm body is pressed against her and her mind is spinning. His rough, warm palms are gliding over the front of her body, as a heat she never wants to forget settles in the pit of her belly. His lips are on the side of her neck, feasting on her pulse point and her prone body slides against his, her unsteady legs unable to hold her up and another breathless murmur escapes her, "Hotch."

"Aaron." His deep voice corrects, making her blood run thick and hot inside her veins. "Tonight you're calling me Aaron, Emily."

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Hotch groans against the smooth, creamy skin of Emily's neck, as she bends forward so her lips are hovering above the outer shell of his ear. He feels himself growing hard against her leg and when she breathes out his name, "Aaron," he can fel his length throb and twitch.

He pulls away from her neck and as fast as he can, unbuttons the buttons of her silky black blouse and peels the fabric away from her body. He lets his eyes rove over the miles of creamy skin that is on display . . . Only covered by black lace, that is such a contrast to her flawless ivory coloring, it takes all of his infamous self control to hold him back from pouncing on her.

He knows how long it's been for him . . . Since Haley, that's how long it's been since he's felt this way. . . Heat and passion running through him and his body ardently reminds him of that fact, as he watches her shimmy out of her slacks. He swallows hard as she steps out of the fabric that has pooled at her ankles, letting him see the gorgeous shapely legs he's imagined feeling around his waist on more than one occasion.

He quickly pulls her body against his, feeling how hard her nipples have become through the lace that covers her pert breasts and he curses in front of her for the first time. "Fuck."

Breathless husky laughter falls from her perfect smooth red lips and those chocolate eyes of hers are dancing with amusement he's never been privy to as she whispers, "That's the idea."

He can't respond because suddenly her hands are on him.

They're running up and down his chest, sending wave after wave of heat coursing through him. Over and over, she continues sliding her hands up and down his chest before her fingers start unbuttoning the buttons on his dress shirt and before she can peel the material away, he stops her roving hands.

His eyes are looking away from hers for the first time and he tells her in a self-conscious voice he knows she's never heard from him, "The scars . . . The scars, they're not pretty, Emily."

His breath catches inside his throat, as he feels his cheeks being cupped by soft, slender hands. His eyes are staring into hers again and she tells him, "Don't you know? Chicks dig scars. And just for the record . . . This chick . . . Right here . . . She digs you."

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After that statement, that has Hotch smiling and Emily shuddering against him, a weight falls away from both of them and he has her in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist as he guides them to his bedroom.

He lays her down on the bed and slips his dress pants from his body and he hovers over her, he breathes her in and one of his hands tangles in her glorious ebony waves. He brushes his lips against hers and pulls back telling her, "You're beautiful, Emily. So beautiful."

He gives her another smile and she's shuddering again. Her hand raises up and traces his lips, etching that smile into her memory . . . That smile that somehow takes ten years off his face but at the same time, raises her body temperature to the point that she feels like she's on fire from the inside out.

His hand brushes hers away and as he reaches for her breast, she sees its steadiness falter and she whispers, sliding her body against his, "It's okay, Aaron. Touch me. Please, touch me."

His palm cups around the fullness of her pert breast and slowly he runs his thumb over its peaked tip, earing a purr of pleasure from his companion. His palm squeezes her once more before his fingers move toward the clasp at the front of her chest. His fingers are nimble as they easily undo the clasp and his breath hitches inside his throat as he sees nothing but ivory perfection displayed before him.

His head bends forward and in an instant he has her prone rosy nipple inside the warmth of his mouth, making her hips buck and her body arch.

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Emily can feel the dampness of her lace panties sticking to the inside of her thighs as beads of her wetness spill forward to cover her skin. She can feel herself coming closer and closer to the edge with each suckle of his lips around her nipple while his steady, rough fingers pinch and squeeze her other nipple. She feels her thighs clench and the release she wants so desperately is coiling tighter and tighter at the base of her spine, but she doesn't want to come like this.

She wants to come with him inside of her.

And with all the strength she can muster, she manages to tell him just what she wants, "I want you inside of me."

At those simple words, Hotch's infamous control breaks. Her prone, supple frame slides against his hard form and he feels the heat and wetness emanating from her center and he groans loudly as his body shakes.

Her chocolate eyes . . . Filled with such passion, such want and staring straight into his, have a heat he's never experienced surging through him and he hopes that he can last as he positions himself at her center. Her smooth, slender fingers wrap themselves around his throbbing length and he jerks in her hand, leaking pre-cum and as he opens his mouth to apologize, she raises her hand covers his lips with her own, as she slowly guides him inside of her.

His length slides into her wetness effortlessly and both of them are moaning as the sensation of it all overwhelms them. His lips move with hers as effortlessly as her body moves with his, her hips meeting his heavy thrusts at just the right moment. His tongue finds hers just as his fingers slide into the opening their connected bodies provide and he groans inside her mouth, at the feel of her warm, velvet the rough pads of his skin.

Just as her walls squeeze him and her body shudders and quakes underneath him, her name falls from his lips, "Emily," and seconds later she sends him over the edge by breathing out his name, "Aaron."

And as he collapses bonelessly on top of her, his body's shaking finally stopping, he holds her to him and finds that the cold he's been engulfed in for months now, is finally gone.

And it's all because of her.