Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to update this piece. When I wrote the first chapter my 'sure thing' was out of town. I didn't write this chapter until he went out of town again. I tend to write to 'M' stuff when his is out of town. Gee, I wonder why.
DISCLAIMERS: Danny and Lindsay belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY.
She Knows He Knows -- Her Turn
Her legs and arms wrap tightly around him, as he carries her to the bedroom. He removes the last of her clothes and lays her gently on the bed. She stretches her arms above her head in extreme satisfaction at the recent episode against the door, but her toes curl and she sighs softly in utter anticipation at what is coming next.
She knows how it will begin and how it will end, but everything in between is at her lover's whim.
He quickly removes the last of his clothes and settles his lithe body along hers and drops his fingertips to her taut stomach that shivers slightly, at the tickling sensation. He laughs slightly into her ear and begins to whisper.
He knows she loves to hear him speak the language of love and this is the only time he speaks it, is here, to her, alone.
"Siete desiderio del mio cuore"
Her hand reaches across and rests her fingers against his lips, while his chin leans on her thumb. This way, not only can she hear the words, but she can feel them as they waft across his lips.
"Ci sono nessun altro ma voi."
He looks into her eyes and she can see the words as well. He pauses all movement and sound, while he silently drinks in her soul from her eyes.
And She Knows that she must wait too.
He will not be rushed, but the waiting is agonizing because her body is beginning to wake, from its orgasmic lethargy. When he finally moves, it is to lean across her body and reach into a drawer of the bedside table. She can feel the weight of his muscled chest across hers and his chest hairs titillating the very sensitive nipples of her breasts. She watches as he pulls out a small bottle and grins wickedly at her.
And He Knows this will drive her to the brink of persistent desire and overwhelming need.
Oh, he is cruel and kind at the same time! He dribbles the liquid slowly down her body, starting at the slight hollow in her neck, down through the valley of her breasts, into the dimple of her bellybutton, where he finally stops and sets the bottle down. The pungent scent, of pine, laced with a tinge of vanilla assails her senses and melds old memories of wild, Montana mountains, with recent ones of trendy New York coffee shops.
She Knows what comes next, therefore she sends up a silent prayer to whatever god may be listening, that she can make it through, without begging him to satisfy her, before he is ready.
He pushes himself up on his knees beside her and begins to methodically rub the oil into her skin, leaving no skin between the hollow in neck and her lower abs untouched. His hands are gentle and firm at the same. His fingertips work the oil in small circles, while he alternately dispenses larger ones with his hands; eight small concurrent circles and then two large ones; over and over again down her body. Soon the swirling in her head mimics those circles; smaller then larger, over and over again. The sensations envelope her, as she loses touch with reality and a whimper slips out.
He Knows she is slipping now into that place where only sensations register and the only way back to the concrete world, if one really ever wants to return, is through complete and utter release.
As he reaches the boundary between bare skin and tightly curling tendrils that hide a succulent feast cleverly hidden from probing fingers and seeking lips, he must pick his poison. Does he drive it on or does he put them both out of their sweet, tortuous misery at once. Because she gave so completely of herself earlier, he wants this to be about her, so he drives it through, without anymore thoughts to his needs. Besides as long as the phones don't ring, they have all night.
He trails his fingers up along her inner thigh starting at the knee and working his way to the tight v between her thighs. He can already smell her scent, even through the pine/vanilla scented oil that is rising seductively off her skin. Given a choice, he will pick her naturally sweet scent over the synthesized pine/vanilla variety any day of the week. He continues to kneel beside her while his other hand makes its way up to the lips of her mouth. She feverishly licks his fingertips in some kind of attempt at release while his other hand hovers at the entrance of the source of her wetness. He slowly traces his fingers around both entrances at once. God, he is a master at two handed manipulation!
And She Knows that the gods have not answered her prayers, at least, not in the way she requested!
"Pleeeaaaasssseeee!" she wails ever so softly and she can't help but moan as he slides one finger into both, hot, dripping wet orifices at once.
But He Knows by her reaction, that one finger is not enough and soon it is two.
While her mouth and tongue rhythmically work on his fingers therein, mimicking the rhythm of his fingers below; her insides begin to clench. The shudder that rips through her body, signals the onslaught of her release and as he methodically brings her through it; he is awed by how beautiful and serene she looks, when she begins to free fall from that precipice of complete tension down to the velvety softness of utter relaxation. His fingers slip out of her mouth and one last sigh escapes her lips, as she eyes him through drowsy eyelids.
He pulls his fingers out from below and triumphantly sucks her sweet juices from his fingers.
She smiles indulgently at him and pulls him down to her. What did she ever do, to deserve a lover like him? She kisses him fully on the mouth and she can taste herself on him. She revels in how he tastes with her in his mouth.
She Knows that he has indulged her lavishly and he is ready to be satiated.
While their tongues continue to spar, with the intention of seeing who can extend the deepest into the inner recesses of each other's mouth, she runs her hand along the bed until she finds the object she is seeking. She winds her arms around his back so that she can manipulate a squirt of the pine/vanilla oil into the palm of her hand. She slyly snakes her oil-laced palm, in between their bodies and clasps his hardness in her hand. One of the things she loves about him is that one of her hands does not do him justice and the other quickly joins the first. As she begins, the methodical stroking, he breaks the kiss and rolls off of her onto his back with a deep appreciative groan.
"Dio, le cose che fate a me."
She's relatively sure that that phrase isn't about love, but lust and she smiles in exuberance at her power over him.
He Knows that he is putty in her hands, not literally, of course, because she makes him harder than a stone monolith; however, he is happy with the analogy, because at this point, the things she does to him are beyond his literal comprehension anyway.
As she continues to stroke and rub him, she slips one finger up to his tip and traces an agonizingly slow circle repetitively. The intense sensation causes him to buck his hips and wind his hands, tightly in her hair. She enjoys the pleasure pain she feels all up and down her scalp as he tries to assuage his mounting pressure by pulling her mouth down to his shaft. However, her body has already readied itself again for him, so she has other plans in mind.
"Scopata, li ho bisogno" he says in desperation as she resists his efforts.
She Knows that phrase is definitely about lust and notes they're going to have to change the rules about the language of love to include lust as well.
"I need you too!" she whispers reassuringly to him. His hands release her hair in comprehension and clamp decisively onto her hips. He rolls her onto her back and she squeals with delight as he hovers over her. The smug smirk on his face, makes her desire him even more, so she smirks back at him in silent challenge, "Bring- it- on-!"
That is all the urging he needs as he drives into her with reckless abandon. But she is not about to be left behind as she matches him thrust for thrust and moan to groan. Her eyes never leave his until the pressure inside her mounts to an unbearable state of being.
Then He Knows from the slightest flutter of her eyelids that she will cave soon and he is ready to float down with her when she plunges.
She stills momentarily as she breathlessly whispers, "I love you, Danny!" And then she is falling into the most incredible sense of unearthliness she has ever felt before.
"Ti amo, anche, Lindsay" he returns emotionally as he follows her down.
As they settle into each others arms at the blissful end, he presses a fierce kiss to her shoulder, while she buries her face into his neck. The emotion, between is so overwhelmingly tender and sweet that He Knows that She Knows there is no need for any more words.