Spencer's breathing increases as Emily pulls down his zipper. His hand fists into her hair as she slips her hand into his pants and he groans loudly as she wraps her slender fingers around him.
He sucks in a sharp breath of air as she wraps her lips around the head, her hand holding him steady at the base. He thrusts his hips forward and she lets him plunge into her wet mouth.
She feels the shiver move through his body, her nails tracing patterns against the backs of his thighs and up along his ass. This is her favorite part of the wind-down from a tough case; especially one where Spencer feels thrown off-kilter. She's not sure if it started after Henkel, or if it's something that he's always enjoyed, as they weren't jumping each other at every possible opportunity back then, but now, after a tough case, Spencer likes to be in control. He likes to take charge, and he loves seeing her on her knees, her head tilted back, mouth waiting and welcoming.
She slowly drags her mouth back up his length, scraping her teeth as she progresses with just a light pressure. When he slips from her mouth with a popping sound, she looks up at him and flicks her tongue across the head.
"Tell me what you want." she breathes over him.
He's shaking, trying to hold back from pushing her head forward, thrusting into the warmth of her mouth and fucking her without abandon. "I want… God, Em, you know what I want."
If it were anyone else, she might have more reservations. She might not be so willing to give up the control. With Spencer things are different – aside from the fact that she knows that if she had to she could totally take him. Tonight she hadn't bothered waiting for him to ask. He'd walked in the door, poured a glass of wine, and she'd kissed him, before dropping to her knees. She'd left his shirt on, and she was almost completely dressed – the top few buttons of her shirt being undone before he'd given up and given in to his desire to possess her.
He finally gives into the temptation to wrap his hand in the strands of her hair as she brings her mouth back down onto him. He tugs on the strands slightly and she gifts him with a throaty moan as she surrounds him. He isn't 'large', but when he pushes it, she gets that momentary initial panic of not being able to breathe. It gives her even more of a rush and causes her to moan again.
He bucks his hips as the sensations from her noises moved through him. She responds by grasping his ass around his lowered pants and pulling him into her face. She sinks her nails into the fleshy skin of his ass and he attempts to bite back a cry at the sudden pinpricks of painful pleasure, but is anything less than successful.
"God, Emily," he grinds out through clenched teeth. She moves her head faster up and down, pushing him into her mouth harder with each thrust of his hips as his hands in her hair direct her. "Like that. Fuck."
She smiles against him, her lips tightening in response as she silently gloats at her ability to get him to curse on a regular basis. She loves it when he throws the 'innocent' stereotype to the wind. Before long though, Spencer begins to lose the ability to form words; he thrusts faster into her mouth and tightens his grip in her hair to hold her in place, letting himself fuck her mouth.
Her nails trail a path from his ass down his thighs and she relishes over the thought of those marks being with him for the next few days. His hands start to tremble in her hair, his vocalizations becoming louder, more urgent. Her right hand moves, cupping him gently and rolling her fingers against his skin. It's not long before she can feel the pressure building up to a crescendo in his muscles. He pushes forcefully into her mouth while she all but hums around him as he buries himself one final time.
With a crying, grunt, he comes into her mouth; the taste mingles briefly with the flavor of her earlier wine before she swallows.
Spencer holds her in place so that she can take every drop she can manage. Slowly, he releases his grip on her head and she slides her mouth from him. She stands, leaning against him briefly for support, and his head falls to her shoulder, his breathing heavy.
"God, Em," he mumbles before pulling her in for a deep, calming kiss. "How do you do that?" He asks when they break, his forehead leaning against hers.
She smiles, and kisses him gently. "It's been a rough week, Spencer. Let's get some sleep." Someday she might explain to him that their relationship had breached her comfort level long before this, but for him… with him… things were just different. She was different.