Teased and Consequences, a csi fanfic

A/N: My beta is awesome! Need I say more…she knows she rocks.

Warning: This is rated M (+21) for Adult content and related themes. Role Play at Work. Please read responsibly and with care.

Teased and Consequences

Nights at our home have never been normal; well since we've started our relationship, that is.

Coming home from work Fridays, our special day, was nearly always an adventure. I never knew what mood he'd be in, what he'd expect of me, what to expect of him. I never knew even if I'd see him until dinner was ready. Sometimes I'd creep up the broad, sweeping staircase to my office, busy myself with some case files or get ready for court, and he'd come to me there, as a client, or as a police officer, or even a priest. Other Fridays, he did not come to me at all. It was the not knowing that kept me on edge, kept me in a state of sexual excitement. Anticipation built. So did hunger. But not today.

As I eased open the back door and looked around the kitchen. My eyes landed on the school uniform hanging on a hook, on the kitchen wall, the stack of books on a nearby chair, along with black shoes and navy knee socks. I knew what that meant.

As I slipped into the nearest bathroom to change from the suit and pumps I wore to court, my heart pounded fast. Once clad in the short, pleated tartan skirt, that barely covered my ass might I add; the cotton briefs, knee socks, the white blouse and the lace-up shoes, I was in character, mind, body, heart and soul. A timid, apprehensive schoolgirl obeying the command of her stern, fearsome guardian who would do…who knew what?

Fully into the role, I began to walk, slowly, carefully, silently. My throat felt clogged, forcing me to swallow convulsively. My feet, heavy, dragged me toward the double swinging doors leading to the dining room, certainly no short-cut. A short-cut was not what I wanted before meeting him. The doors squeaked as I opened them. All the doors in our house squeaked. He liked it that way, the better to keep track of comings and goings. I had a feeling why he picked this particular role.

Still carrying my books, biting my lower lip till it nearly bled, I sidled past the ten dark, heavy chairs standing at attention around the highly polished table with its seven tall, seldom-lighted candles in a silver candelabrum. The drapes, pulled nearly closed, let in only a hint of gray light, enough to make the plates behind the glass doors of the china cabinets laugh at me with round, mocking faces. Purple pansies baked into bone-white, bone China cups, each handle at precisely the same angle, glared ferociously with reflected light. Fear and anticipation, of him, made me shudder.

Another set of double doors, these ornately carved rosewood, cried aloud as I opened them into the hallway, where the late afternoon's light filtered through a window at the end, casting an eerie shadow from a low table on which stood a Chinese vase with no flowers. There were never flowers in it today. I mounted the stairs, climbing one foot at a time. The left onto one, followed by the right, then the left lifting reluctantly again, the right hesitating before planting itself alongside. At the top, a golden beam of electric light slanted from the door to his study, hanging ajar because The Girl Was Expected.

I shivered, swallowed hard, raised a shaking hand and rapped gently. Maybe, just maybe, he'd forgotten. Maybe he'd fallen asleep in one of the deep, high-backed leather chairs where he liked to read the thousands of leather-bound volumes lining two and a half walls of his study.

"Come. In." His voice, calm and deep…for now.

I opened the door, expectation, fear, faint nausea, all combining to make my legs weak. He sat behind his desk on the armless chair he preferred when working.

"You sent for me?" I whispered.

He looked up from the stack of files opened on his desk.

"The headmaster called me today. It seems you have been…naughty."

Damn, Jim! He's the only person that knows Gil and I are together. My lower belly turned to liquid and a great, shuddering shiver rose from between my legs to my stomach. Despite my fear, I also began to experience a wild kind of…excitement. The skin on my butt tingled.

"Yes, sir."I pulled in an unsteady breath.

His eyes, unreadable, scanned me. He was very good at hiding his emotions.

"Very naughty, or a little naughty?"

I chewed on my lip. How was I to truly answer that.

"A little naughty, maybe."

"Very well. I will take your word for it. Come in all the way and shut the door. Lock it too." I knew exactly what to do, but waited for him to tell me. Always, he had to give the orders one at a time in that deep, soft voice with little inflection, utterly no emotion.

To my highly-attuned senses, the brass of the knob was icy cold and the soft click of the lock overly loud. I took three steps into the room, just to the edge of the Persian carpet and halted. All I could see of him was his dark serge suit coat, his shirt so white and stiff he might have donned it

only moments before, his tie, a dark red one today, with fine navy stripes. And his eyes. His burning, gleaming eyes half shadowed, by his full dark lashes.

"Come here."

I crept halfway across the carpet and stopped several feet from his desk.

"Right here." This time, his voice was a growl, his eyes wider, impatient, a glittering, icy blue.

My breathing hitched, then resumed in short, shallow puffs as I tiptoed to the front of his desk.

"Put your books down."

I tried and failed to swallow and, with trembling hands, carefully set the stack of texts on the corner of his desk.

"Come round to this side."

I obeyed, eyes downcast, looking only at the red, green, and cream of the carpet.

"Pull down your drawers," he ordered.

I suppressed a sob while reaching up under my skirt and hooked my thumbs in the elastic of my white cotton panties, tugging them down an inch at a time, showing him my reluctance as my quivering lips showed him my fear.

When my panties were around my knees, his hand reached out and snagged my wrist and he gave me a sharp tug that had me sprawling, face down, across his lap…his naked lap.

"Pull up your skirt."

I reached back for the hem. The wool stuck to my suddenly damp hands as I did so, baring my ass, hitching it out from under me until, on my naked, quivering belly I felt the crispness of the hair on his hard thighs. I lay there, bottom exposed, the hem of my skirt brushing my elbows. I

was surrounded by the scent of furniture polish, of leather, of tobacco, of his body. My entire form quaked. I could scarcely draw breath. There was a moment's pause and again he spoke.

"Only a little naughty?"

"Yes." I whispered knowing damn well I wasn't being fully truthful.

"We'll see…"

His hand, large and hard, landed on my buttocks, enhancing the anticipatory burning that began the moment I locked the door. I jerked. Against my belly, his hard cock jerked. Again, he smacked me. Again, I jerked and in response, so did that large, heated cock pressing against the front of my blouse.

"How naughty were you?" Now, his voice had a different tone, as if his breathing was as shallow as mine.

"Quite naughty." I squirmed as I felt the liquid heat begin to build inside me, knew it would soon begin seeping out onto his thighs. Involuntarily, my legs parted as far as the panties around my knees would permit. He smacked me again. I writhed on his lap, my hands gripping the thick wooden legs of his armless chair, nails digging in.

"Oh, yes, yes! Terribly naughty!" I gasped, and again, and again, his hand descended, not fast, with long pauses in between, to build expectancy and not hard, but hard enough that I knew my skin was turning brighter and brighter pink. I shouldn't have flirted with Detective Vartann but I was stuck for hours; waiting to be called to the stand.

"Oooh, oooh, oooh," I cried, lifting my bottom higher with each sound I made, each smack on my flesh.

"I think you were a very, very bad girl," he said with a knowing tone.

"Yes! Yes! Extremely bad! Wicked even." I cried out.

"Ah, I thought you were." How did Jim even find out? He wasn't even there. Maybe more people knew of our relationship and thought I would stray. I would never cheat on Gil, I finally got the love of my life and I tended to keep him with every fiber of my being.

This time, his hand landed harder, faster, smacking first one cheek then the other, then both of them together, changing angles, stinging my thighs until I groaned and wriggled and struggled to turn over, gasping and half weeping with the need his spanking aroused in me, a desire so intense it rocketed through my body, my soul, my mind.

"Come for me." His voice was deep from arousal and I responded to his command… I came with a great, rushing of relief.

Suddenly, he lifted me off his lap, held me out from him. Looking at me, making sure I was steady on my feet before he tore my panties right off. He laid me back over his well polished desk and spread my legs wide, flipping the skirt over my chest as I sobbed and begged and told him again how terribly, terribly sinful I had been. I only did it to pass the time. I've flirted with Warrick, Nick, Greg and hell even Hodges a time or two. My heart and soul belonged to one man and one man only; Gil.

With both hands holding my thighs apart, he lifted my knees, draped my sock-clad ankles around his neck, the heels of my black oxfords pressing into shoulders, and drew a long, cold rope of pearls, out of his pocket, through my wetness, pulling them tight, rolling the hard beads over my hard little nub.

When they were fully wet, and warm, he dragged them up my belly, looped the string around my breasts, tracing each nipple with one bead, then trailed the string over my lips.

"Lick them. Taste yourself." His voice rough heavy with desire…barely contained.

I opened my mouth, as the smooth gems rolled across my lips, salty, musky. I curled my tongue around them, murmuring to him what a pleasure it is to please him. He sucked on each of my nipples, licking the moisture off as he trailed the long necklace down the front of my body again, into my cleft, teasing me with it mercilessly. Rubbing my clit with one thumb, circling, pressing gently; then he suddenly impaled me with a hard finger wrapped tightly in a spiral of pearls, thrusting it again and again, the beads rolling against the sensitive flesh deep inside my core.

I felt myself beginning to come, great, undulating waves of ecstasy that began to build and rippled up to my belly, throbbing in my deepest intimate parts. His finger was suddenly gone. I wanted to cry at the loss of him. The long string of pearls looped around behind my neck as he lifted me and filled my mouth with himself and his addictive taste. He plunged his cock into my mouth and held me firmly, as if I'd be tempted to go anywhere…there is nowhere else I want to be. Except here! I sucked and swallowed and sucked some more and brought him to a climax as I also achieved another, a huge series of spasms racing through my body as he withdrew his softening member and smiled down at me. Pellucid blue eyes holding satisfaction and love, his short curled dark hair glistening with beads of sweat. He looped the pearls once, twice, three times around my neck into a rich, triple strand.

His fingers glided across the first strand,

"Friendship."

Then the second,

"Love."

And finally the third,

"Trust."

My eyes watered with unleashed tears and he kissed me. It was like our souls were melding together. He gently wiped the tears from my face and broke our kiss.

"I love you, Gil." I said when I opened my eyes and gazed up at him.

"I love you too, Sara." He took my hand and we walked to our bedroom.

"Now what's this talk about you teasing poor Detective Vartann?" He chuckled and I couldn't help but laugh as I looped my arms around his neck and kissed him.