So today I said to myself okay, Nicole, have an adult day. Go get errands done, weed the flowers, ride the horse, be a normal human being instead of one who fixates over television shows.
So what did I do? Five thousand words of Waige smut and one thousand words (and counting) of Fly smut (which the two of you who will read that can hopefully be enjoying within a couple of days).
I guess I did still have an adult day, huh?
Monday morning.
A rare Monday morning without a case.
Ralph was in school and Florence was at a conference in Oregon, and with the lack of a job to do, that left Cabe, Happy, Toby, and Sylvester exactly zero reasons to turn up at the garage. But they'd locked the door anyway before going upstairs; they'd been cleaning the bedroom and upon going through their box of adult items, both of them realized the productiveness of their day was about to end. It was embarrassing, really, how little excuse they needed to postpone their more G rated activities for the kind you needed your credit card to watch in hotels, but they'd lost several months over the summer and even though they'd been back together for a little longer now than they'd been apart, sometimes it still felt like they were making up for lost time.
In a way, they were. No matter how long they lived, they would never get those four months back.
So now, with the door locked and the rest of the team safely across town or out of state, Paige knelt on the bed wearing the harness she'd bought after Valentine's Day, her boyfriend in front of her on all fours. Lots of kissing and cuddling had preceded them getting to this point, and it wasn't like they'd never done it before, but she still went slow, giving his body as much time as necessary to accept the black TPE device on the front of the harness. "You okay?" She asked, running her hand over his lower back soothingly as she eased her hips forward a little bit more.
"Mmm hmm," Walter said.
"Need more lube?"
"I don't think so. The condom helps. Easier than last time."
Paige leaned forward, kissing his back and pushing farther into him, feeling his body tense slightly. She opened her mouth, planning to ask if he was okay, but closed it and smiled when she heard him moan quietly. "There," she said, "you're okay."
"Uh huh."
Paige slid her hands to his hips as she began to move, slowly and shallowly, making sure she was hitting the right spot inside of him. "This is a nice view for me," she commented. "I get to see so much of your body."
"You like being in control, too," Walter commented, peering over his shoulder at her.
"I like when both of us take turns with control," Paige said, thrusting a little harder and making him whimper. "But there's something about just making you feel good."
"I'll make it up to you," Walter said shakily, his hands curling around the sheets. "I'll make – oh God – I'll make it up to you." He lowered his upper body, resting his chest on the mattress.
"I'd like that," she said, letting go of one of his hips long enough to run her hand over his back again. "Are you ready for all of it?"
"Uh – huh," he managed, turning his head to the side and resting his cheek against the mattress. Paige pushed all the way in, stilling her hips for just a moment before snapping them back and then forward again. Walter groaned loudly, his eyes squeezed shut. Paige settled back into a rhythm, gripping his hips and smiling to herself as she felt his muscles tighten under her hands. She was glad he wasn't squeamish about stuff like this; sex was supposed to feel good and so many men completely denied themselves the chance to get their prostate stimulated. Of course, prostate was a decidedly unsexy word, so she refrained from using it. Walter did, too, only needing one use of the word "testicles" to put her out of the mood to learn that some words needed to not be referred to by their medical names in the bedroom. She wondered if there was even a euphemism for prostate.
She decided it was best if she stopped using the word, even in her head. She had to focus on Walter anyway. "You okay?" He was making quiet, high pitched sounds that synched up with her thrusts, a good sign, but she liked to check up on him. Sometimes a person's apparent enjoyment was deceiving.
"God yes, Paige," he responded, his tone reminding her that part of why she enjoyed checking with him was for selfish reasons, hearing him like that and knowing he was in this state because of her.
"Good," she responded, running a hand over his back again. She pushed all the way into him, grinding her hips, sliding her hand around to his front to stroke him. Walter buckled at her touch, moaning again and reaching back behind him to grip one of her thighs. Paige began to move her hips again, moving her hand in tandem, and Walter's moans slowly grew louder, the oh Gods that came in between them more frequent. He never lasted terribly long like this unless she completely ignored his erection, but today she wanted to make everything feel extra intense…plus the sounds he was making had Paige aching with want herself. It was a bonus of sorts, to create intensity for him that would also shorten the wait for when she could have something done about her own desire.
"Paige," Walter whined, and although she recognized his tone, she asked him what he wanted. "Paige, don't stop, don't stop."
"You close?" She asked, knowing the answer, moving her hand a little quicker.
"Y – yes, yes, I'm close." He gasped for air. "I'm so close."
"Hold it a little longer and I'll let you look at me." She wanted to build him up, then flip him over and watch his body convulse. He wasn't quite there yet. "Can you do that?"
"Yes," he groaned.
"Good." She leaned forward to kiss him along his spine. "I love you."
"I love you," he echoed.
"I never tire of hearing that," she said. "Or that," she added when he moaned again, long and low. If she didn't know him so well she'd have thought he was through, but instead she recognized it as the sound her boyfriend made when he was building to the kind of intense orgasm that would leave him shaking. She was prepared for that. She didn't build him up like this when she wasn't prepared to soothe him afterwards. She ground against him again, counting slowly to ten before she resumed pumping her hips, and she elicited the same sound from Walter again. The ache between her legs intensified.
"Paige, please," Walter begged, "let me look at you, please."
"You can't wait any longer?"
He groaned, sounding almost like he was in pain. "I'm trying…"
"I know," she said. "I'm just trying to make it as good as possible. Deep breaths. Try a little longer."
"Paige…"
She moved her hand a little more aggressively. "Deep breaths."
"Oh God." He gasped. "Oh God."
She could tell by his strained breathing that she'd drawn him out about as far as she could. "Okay," she said, stilling her hips and pulling out of him. "Flip over."
Walter shimmied onto his back, and Paige scooted in between his legs, settling down and pushing into him again. She took him back in her hand, setting the same pace that she had before. Walter reached forward, grabbing her legs, his fingers digging into them as he moaned again. "God, Paige, it's so good, it's so good." His eyes locked on hers, and she held the contact, putting both of her hands to work on him, one on his shaft and the other just below, and his head tipped back, a loud groan coming from his throat. "I…I can't…" He groaned again. "Paige, I can't hold it."
"I'm not asking you to, Love." She added some friction with her thumb and he was done for, a guttural sound rushing through his lips as he spasmed, his body jerking and his eyes rolling back in his head. Paige's hips went still, she pumped her hand a few more times, drawing out the reaction, and then she was left with her shaking and spent boyfriend beneath her, gasping for air and probably still too out of it to even be aware of how he was convulsing.
Paige moved away from him, removing the harness and then crawling back over him, lowering her head to kiss him on the chest and neck before settling beside him, pulling him into her arms and stroking the side of his face while she pressed tender kisses to his forehead. "Easy, Love," she whispered. "I've got you." Walter groaned again before taking in a sharp, deep breath. She ran her hand over his chest, finding one of his hands and curling her fingers around it as she kissed his cheek. "Just breathe."
"There is," he gasped, "something so hot…about being at your mercy."
"I love you," Paige said. She smiled when he shifted his weight, rolling against her and putting his lips on hers. The mess on his stomach was now on hers as well, but she didn't care. Sex was messy. She had no idea how Sylvester managed to do it.
Walter's hand slid to her hip and then around to her rear, squeezing as he pulled her closer. Paige grunted, slowly rubbing her thighs together. "Walter," she whispered. His lips left hers as he pushed up on his arm, using his other hand to ease her onto her back before he crawled over her, lowering his mouth to one of her breasts. Paige's eyes fell closed, a quiet moan finding its way to their ears. She put her hands in his hair, her nails lightly scratching his scalp, and the sound he made in response, his mouth locked over one of her areolas, sent vibrations all the way through her body. "I need you so badly," she breathed, feeling one of his hands run over her stomach and hip without going where she wanted it to. Paige removed one of her hands from his hair and slid it down her body.
Walter's hand caught her wrist and moved it from her stomach to the mattress, pinning it down before doing the same thing with her other hand, trapping her thighs between his knees and preventing her from any significant movement at all. "Walter," Paige whined, struggling slightly.
"Uh – uh, Love," he said, running his tongue over a hardened nipple. "My turn."
"You gotta give me something," she said.
"I will." He lowered his mouth again and sucked on the underside of her breast, making her stomach muscles clench. "I just like to take my time."
She liked him taking his time, too, no matter how frustrating it might be on the surface. Paige's thighs were pressed together between his knees and she flexed her muscles, trying to get any little bit of friction that she could. At certain points in her hormonal cycle, Walter could get her off with focus on nothing but her breasts, but today wasn't one of those days and every little bit of his attention was making her squirm under him, desperate for something to relieve her aching, swollen nerves.
"Don't touch yourself," Walter warned, letting go of one of her hands. Worried he might leave her to her own devices if she did, and knowing that wouldn't be good enough today, it was him she wanted, Paige obeyed, keeping her hand flat on the sheet. Walter moved upwards, his mouth finding the sensitive spot on her neck and swirling his tongue as he rolled her nipple between his fingers. The sound that came from Paige almost certainly surprised Walter, considering it surprised her, and he lifted his head to see her better. "Are you okay?"
She nodded, looking at him through half closed eyelids. "It feels good, yes. Oh God," she gasped when his tongue went back to her neck. She curled her fingers around the sheet, pushing her chest up against his hand. "Walter…" She swore she was about to lose her mind when he shifted, lifting one of his knees and moving it in between her thighs. She sighed in relief as she closed her legs around his and ground against him just above his knee. Walter pinned her other wrist again, lowering his mouth back to her breasts and pushing his knee up against her, syncing his tongue swiping over her nipple with the movements from her hips. It felt good, it felt so, so good, but she needed more, and she let out a frustrated whine when his mouth left her breast. "Walter, touch me," she implored. "Please touch me."
"Open your legs," he whispered, kissing her on the lips and shifting his weight again, putting his whole body between hers as she shifted her knees apart. Sliding downward, he planted kisses on her stomach, down from her ribs as well as across, hip to hip, before he settled in between.
"Oh!" Paige gasped when his mouth came into contact with her, her abdomen twitching. "Oh." This time it was a moan. She closed her eyes, pushing her hips against him, feeling her legs quiver. Walter wrapped his arms around them, limiting her movement, pressing firmly and not backing off even when she ground against him. He worked his way up slightly higher, kissing her clit before circling his tongue around it, switching directions rapidly and unexpectedly and Paige opened her mouth but no sound came out. For a moment she wasn't sure she could breathe, maybe the stars blocking her vision were from oxygen deprivation, but then the air rushed back into her lungs and she was brought right back to what magic Walter was performing on her. "Oh, g - " she tried, groaning, unable to finish the word. The sound turned into a whimper and she gasped for breath again. "Oh God."
When Walter lifted his head and sat up, she moaned in frustration, but it turned to anticipation when she saw him reach over to the nightstand to go through their box. He pulled out the smallest toy, the one that fit on his finger, and he fitted it and clicked it on. But it was his other hand that he lowered, running over the soft skin below her belly button before pushing two fingers into her, his thumb rubbing at her nerves. She knew what he was trying to do; if he succeeded she would be exhausted afterward but completely and totally satisfied. Paige lifted her hips, thrusting against his hand, her own curling so tightly around the sheets she wondered briefly if she was going to rip them. It wasn't like she would be able to do much if she was, she had almost embarrassingly little control of herself and she would hate it if it wasn't Walter making her this way and if he didn't make it all so damn irresistible. Her breathing was heavy, her nipples rock hard and she was wet enough he'd already wiped his hand once; she wasn't going to last and she told him, her voice sounding almost unrecognizable. Walter kept his hand moving in tandem with her hips, drawing her closer, and right when her moans were starting to catch and come out shakily, he removed his hand, wiped it on the sheet again, and took one of hers with it as his vibrating finger came into firm contact with her clit.
He'd timed it perfectly. Paige gripped his hand like a vice as she shuddered, making a sound sure to alert the neighbors as to what was going on, and the extra stimulation brought her right back to the edge, with barely any time to recover before she was shaking again. And again. When he timed things this perfectly she would continue to rise and fall on a near endless loop until she made him stop. She wasn't sure how many times she'd come before she tugged her hand out of his to place on his chest and her other one slid down to push the toy away, but he backed off immediately, clicking it off and dropping it near the harness before returning to comfort her. Her whole body was shaking; she felt cold in her extremities, and there was a terrifying moment – as always when this happened – where she thought she might be losing consciousness. But then Walter was there, wrapping her up and kissing her tenderly and keeping her in the present, and she focused on him, his arms, his scent, his voice, as she slowly came back to the present. A hand ran up and down her back, the other was wrapped around the back of her thigh, and she couldn't understand exactly what he was whispering to her but it was nice, it was nice and sweet and comforting and God she loved him.
Breathe. She drew in a long breath, trying to hold it for a few seconds before slowly letting it out. She would get dizzy if she kept gasping. She listened to Walter's breathing, much more stable than hers. "Oh God," she whispered, sliding a hand up to the side of his face. "Benefits to dating a genius, I swear."
A small grin came over his face, but he quickly grew serious again, intense. "I love you so much," he whispered. He brushed hair back from her face. "I've been to forty – five states and ninety – three countries and this face…" he paused, smiling at her. "This face is the gateway to every ounce of happiness in my life."
"God, you're saying everything right today," she said, kissing him firmly and scooting closer. He usually got extremely romantic at times like this – emotional intimacy to follow the physical kind – and it was these times that got her wondering why in the Hell she ever willingly removed this from her life. She teased his lips with her tongue, pleased when he parted them to allow her access. She melted into the kiss, their bodies tangled up and molded together in a way she wasn't even really sure who was who. I love you. I love you. I love you.
She wasn't sure how long it was before she started to feel a change at their hips, and she gave herself a mental once over. If she couldn't handle more, she had to stop this before he was hard. She was satisfied, completely, but the knowledge that he still wanted her after such an intense climax of his own sent a shiver down her spine. She lifted her leg, hiking it over his hip and slowly wiggling her hips against his.
Walter tore his lips from hers. "Paige, that's not a good idea."
She stopped, opening her eyes to look at him. "Are you still sensitive?"
He looked incredulous. "Aren't you?"
In truth, yes, a bit. But desire was once again pooling between her hips and she was absolutely certain in this moment that she would never, ever tire of Walter O'Brien. And she still had a little time. Tightening her leg around him, Paige put her lips back on Walter's, her hips resuming their slow side to side motion. "Mmmm," Walter hummed, his fingers squeezing one of her breasts – it was about time the left one got some attention today, she thought. He kissed her again, his tongue tracing her lower lip before he sucked it into his mouth and bit down slightly, his tongue tracing the path again. Paige slid a hand to his chest, stroking one of his nipples, feeling him continue to twitch between them. He probably couldn't get fully erect just from this, not after earlier, but she didn't want to rush him. Neither of them were recovered enough to do anything fast. So she kept kissing him, kept rubbing against him, enjoying the closeness and the intimate way in which he was holding her.
You're the love of my life.
They'd said those words to each other shortly before it all went wrong, and just a bit earlier, before they'd fallen into bed, they'd said them again, for the first time since things became right again. She loved hearing it, it was so much more than I love you, and while she'd said those words to others before, the man who was all tangled up with her now as the only one that had heard the longer variation. Generally, she didn't believe in saving oneself – body or words, because it was impossible to know who was right, who was good for the present, and who was good for the future, at the time when decisions were made. She didn't regret the other three men and one woman she'd been with, and she didn't regret telling her son's father that she loved him.
But at the same time, she was so damn happy that she waited until she knew – for damn sure – who the love of her life was before she'd said that.
"I'm gonna need a little help," Walter said between kisses, and Paige reached between them, taking him in her hand. She'd hated this with the other men; it was much easier with Walter, whose parents hadn't been pressured into putting their newborn son through medical procedures that weren't common practice anywhere but the United States. She didn't have to make her hand cramp up to be effective with Walter. After exclusive experience with American men prior to him, Paige almost felt magical with what she was able to accomplish. Like right now. She hadn't been stroking him long, but Walter's eyes were half closed and his hips were slowly beginning to rock against her. "Feels good?" She asked, and he nodded. "You know, when we're old," she said, "we're not gonna be able to go all day like this."
"With all the crap we deal with on a daily basis, we're not likely to get that old," Walter joked.
Paige raised her eyebrows. "Premature death isn't exactly the best pillow talk, ya know."
"Take it this way, then. I cannot imagine ever having enough of you, no matter how old I get."
She smiled. "I'll take it. Wasn't really my point, though."
"My brain doesn't exactly have dibs on my blood supply right now," he pointed out.
She giggled, shaking her head, and then shifted her weight, moving onto her back and pressing up against his chest. Neither of them were fully ready yet, but she wiggled into place, closing her still damp thighs around him. Walter moved his hips slowly, grunting quietly into her ear. One of his hands pressed against her stomach, holding her against him, and his other hand slid upward. He found the right one again, but Paige wasn't going to complain. The left was usually his favorite anyway. She could feel him growing between her thighs and she knew he could feel that she was getting wet again, so she pressed down on him, adding friction for the both of them, making a small little moan at the feeling of the length of his shaft rubbing against her each time he moved.
"The things you do to me, Dineen," Walter murmured in her ear.
"Likewise," she said as she flexed her hips, her eyes rolling back in her head, almost without warning, when he brushed against her nerves and sent a shot of pure desire rushing through her body. It was as if he'd flipped a switch, shifting her from almost ready for him again to absolutely desperate. The way Walter's hand had moved to her hips, rolling them along with him as he moved between her legs, and the feel of him against her folds told her he was ready for more, too.
Sometimes, they had really great timing.
"Walter," she said, grinding down on him again, "I need you in me." She closed her eyes when he brushed her clit again, making a tiny moan.
He slid his hand over her hip, down between her legs, to tease her entrance with a finger. "God," he groaned, "God, you're wet."
It was a significant improvement over well, it certainly seems your natural lubricant has reached levels that are more than adequate, a line he'd trotted out the first night they were together. Thankfully for him, she'd been so wound it really didn't matter what he'd said. Thankfully for her, he figured out that that wasn't the sexiest way to comment on her readiness.
"The things you do to me, O'Brien," she echoed. She whimpered as he rubbed her with a second finger, pushing against them, and he helped her scoot onto her back. She settled in, smiling at him as he crawled over her, positioned himself, and entered her fully in one motion. The pace he set was slow and she matched it, wrapping her arms around him, eternally grateful for such a cliched position because it allowed a level of intimacy she craved. Positions where they could kiss trumped everything else, for both of them, no matter how much they enjoyed shaking things up.
This was their default. This was raw and real and right.
"God yes, go slow," she breathed. "I love the way you love me, Walter."
He kissed her throat. "I can't take all the credit."
He could. She'd taught him a lot, about things both in and out of the bedroom, but he'd actually done most of the teaching in here. He was the first of the men she'd been with to take the time to learn her body, to figure her out, to understand what was good in some circumstances but too much in others. He was the most comforting when she was struggling to come back after a hard climax, he trusted her enough to try new things, and he told her how attractive he found her without sounding objectifying or degrading. He'd taught her what it was like to have a sexual relationship that was truly a two – way street, respectful and caring and able to keep up the high levels of intimacy even in less traditional acts.
He was, really, her first true sexual partner.
One benefit to going slow was feeling herself building up over time, knowing where she would end up but with no pressure to get there. Walter's hips were moving at about the same tempo has they had been for the past quarter hour, and she was given a hint as to where she was at when when he thrusted deeper, and she signaled to him that she wanted more by wrapping her legs tightly around him. Walter made a whining sound, thrusting with a little more force, then pushed all the way in again and stayed there, grinding his hips against her. When he did, Paige's hands curled back around the sheets. "Oh my God." He pulled back, snapping his hips back forward and grinding against her again. "Don't stop," she whimpered. "Oh God, don't stop." Walter repeated the action again, three, four more times, before settling back into a rhythm, slightly quicker this time. The tension was good and unbearable at the same time and she was glad that Walter was starting to make those incredibly hot little sounds in time with each thrust because she wasn't lasting much longer. "I want to finish together," she gasped between kisses.
"We can try," he said. "But you feel too good, Paige."
"That's okay, I'm close, too. In ffffact…" she trailed off, the thought escaping. "Oooh, God." She squeezed her eyes shut, biting her lip and focusing on the pain. He wasn't that far behind her – he hardly was at all – yet suddenly it seemed like waiting for him was the most impossible of all the tall orders she'd handled over the years. My lip hurts, my lip hurts, my lip hurts…it wasn't working, but she could tell by the look on Walter's face when she opened her eyes that he was seconds away, and almost immediately he gasped, groaned, and reached between them. He'd barely touched her before she was coming apart, feeling him reach his peak at the same time. She wrapped her arms around him, stroking his hair, focusing on his breathing and her own.
God, she was exhausted. But she wouldn't change a damn thing.
He rolled off of her after a minute or so, remaining on his side instead of going to his back, and reached over, running his hand comfortingly over her stomach, where her muscles were still twitching. "You're okay?"
"I'm amazing," she said, rolling onto her side. "This has all been amazing."
"I agree," he said. "It pleases me you are happy, because I do not have any confidence in my abilities to do that again today."
She laughed. "My legs are going to be useless for a while so I think it's only okay that your penis spends some time in that club."
"You say that as if my legs are going to work any time soon."
"Thank God we don't have any cases today."
"Well, duh. If we did, the others would be downstairs and I don't think anyone on the block had any illusions about what we've been doing." Walter looked horrified, bringing a hand up to his mouth. "Psssh, don't worry," Paige said.
"So it was you?"
"Oh, it was definitely you," Paige said. "But also me. See? We're a team! Saving the world, raising Ralph, grossing out Los Angeles…"
He swatted her. She giggled.