A/N: And a rating change-enjoy!
A Pleasing Finale
Chapter 3
Sara hurried, faintly aware of Nick and Greg following her. Hopefully, Catherine did not have another assignment, she thought. She wanted a shower. She needed to pick up Hank; she needed to buy groceries. And she wanted to get the house cleaned for Grissom's return. She walked faster.
Grissom's return—as usual he had postponed his return. It was a running joke between them now. He would schedule a trip for four weeks, then add two weeks once he arrived to work on a project. Quite often the two weeks became another six days as he worked to "finish up" as he called it. And now they had a grant that provided funds for both of them to work in Costa Rica. For nearly three years Grissom had been working to find financial backing to monitor caterpillars and the Earthwatch Institute had finally funded his proposal. She was happy—Grissom was ecstatic. They would spend at least six months of the next year in Costa Rica, together every day—she smiled.
She saw Catherine's head bent over the desk, stacks of files in front of her. Sara stopped at the door.
"Nick said you wanted to see me."
Catherine smiled as a greeting. "I don't." Baffled, Sara glanced behind her at Nick. Catherine said, "But I think you want to see who's asleep over there!" She waved a hand in the direction of the sofa.
Sara swirled around, immediately recognizing the sleeping man stretched the length of the couch, covered in a lightweight blanket. "Gil!" It was half whisper, half breathless, said in an intimate greeting. She turned back to Catherine as her feet moved her toward her husband. "When? I didn't expect him back for two more days!" She crouched beside Grissom.
Her hand went to his face; her fingers combed through his hair. Gently, she leaned to his forehead and kissed him. "Gil," her hushed voice unexpectedly quivered. She kissed him again.
Behind her, Greg and Nick leaned into the office and watched. Catherine rose from her desk and walked to the door. She swept her hand toward the hallway. "Out—both of you!" She pushed them ahead of her and pulled the door closed. "He's been gone six weeks—they deserve a little privacy!"
Grissom knew her touch in deep sleep—those long, slim fingers were unlike any others. At first he thought he was dreaming of her presence, as he often did—an image so powerful he could feel the tips of her fingers threading through his hair while he slept. Then he felt her lips on his face. It was no dream, he realized.
"Sara," he murmured before opening his eyes. "My sweet Sara." His hand moved from underneath the blanket Catherine had provided. She found his hand—or he found hers—and he brought it to his lips. "I didn't mean to sleep."
"I didn't know you were here." She quietly said, emotion choking her words. She kissed him again and hungrily sought his lips. Her fingers gripped his hair, pulling him closer, kissing him as she welcomed him home. Their lips barely separated as he sat up and pulled her into his arms.
"I've missed your physical company," he said when they finally parted for a breath of air, their foreheads touching, her hands framing his face while his hands worked into her hair. His words brought lips together again in a long passionate kiss.
Sara pulled away when they needed to breathe again. "Oh, Gil, I smell! I never took a shower!"
"I smell—I've been on and off airplanes for twenty hours." He grinned. "Let's go home—take a shower together—get really clean—and do other things I've missed!"
Later, Sara would insist they had said goodbye to everyone, but this was denied by others. And she really did not remember seeing anyone as they left the lab and got to her car. They did stop for several traffic lights—she remembered because they had kissed for so long at one traffic light that several cars honked when the light turned green and she did not move.
Automatically, they moved into the house, bumping into recycle bins and trash cans, a shoe rack and a basket of clothes before slowing down. Desire pulsed through veins as Grissom stopped, tightened his grasp, and pushed Sara against the refrigerator.
"I have you," he said gently trying to hide the need that was making his insides clench. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her; Sara's arms slipped around his neck as he deepened the kiss.
"Gilbert," Sara's voice was infused with emotion as she drew out his name. Grissom felt himself hardened as his heart seemed to melt. Only Sara could say his name and cause this reaction. His lips closed around her earlobe. His hands tugged at her shirt as he searched for her soft skin. His palm cupped her firm breast as he pushed her bra up and drew his thumb across the nipple. Instantly, it budded. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
Sara's reaction was immediate; she softly gasped and tightened her grip as she buried her face against his shoulder. She felt as if he were rescuing her from drowning.
Grissom thought he was the one who was drowning. He was lost in her warmth and softness; her scent, the sweetness his nose remembered, claimed his senses. His brain was not conscious of any disagreeable aroma. He ached to be deep inside her and feel her intimate release.
Finally, Sara pulled him into the bedroom, both leaving shoes and clothing in their wake. She arched herself against him, moaning softly, as they kissed, tongues tangling, lips burning. He stoked his hand the length of her, pausing at her breast, her hip, her thigh. Grissom's palm moved to the warm skin of her inner thigh; the heat from her nearly drove him mad.
When his hand closed over the damp place between her legs, Sara whispered, "Gil—shower."
"I don't care—you're ready."
Her hand stroked his groin and gathered around his erection. "Shower—in the shower."
It took a few minutes to adjust water temperature and shed the remaining remnants of clothing. Sara loosened her hold and ran to the kitchen for two lemons.
"I don't want to smell!" She said with a laugh as she stepped into the shower. Every bottle in the shower was citrus scented.
Grissom poured soap into his hand, lathered it between his palms, and began spreading the scented suds on Sara's back and shoulders. Within minutes, they were together, lemons forgotten as warm water cascaded over them. Grissom watched Sara's face as he carefully opened the soft folds that guarded her feminine secrets. He saw her touch the tip of her tongue to the corner of her mouth before her lips parted, her eyes closed as desire swept her.
When he gently eased one finger inside her, he almost lost what was left of self-control. She was hot, tight, and ready for him.
"Gil." She seemed to move closer; her belly rocked against his.
He kissed her neck, moving down to her breast, as his finger gently moved inside her, easing it slowly back and forth. His thumb touched the tiny sensitive bud that was concealed within the soft curls as his tongue circled and sucked her nipple. Sara made a soft cry as he continued to stroke her.
"Gil, I—I cannot—think—wait…"
"Don't wait—feel. You feel so sweet and soft and responsive. You are like liquid fire."
Her head nestled against his chin and shoulder as her body gradually began to tighten around his finger. When she began to lift herself against his hand, silently asking—demanding—more, he felt as if he had found priceless treasure. Her breathing quickened, reacting instinctively to passion. Waves of contractions surrounded his fingers as her quick orgasm flooded her body. His mouth covered hers as she shuddered and convulsed in his arms before going limp. Grissom held her, pressed against his chest, his own body throbbing with desire; his erection pressed against the dampness of her belly as he maintained control—barely.
As her breathing became normal, he turned the water off and reached for towels. Sara's look was one of delight, soaking wet, blushed cheeks—her hair a tangle of damp curls, her body slick with water. Her climax had been an appetizer for more.
Pointing toward the bedroom, her voice a soft purr, she said, "In there—we've only just begun, Gilbert!"
Neither needed a towel as they foot-raced to the bed, rolling between sheets, more giggles and laughter than talk, until Grissom was on top of her, looking into her eyes. "I want you more than I want anything else on the face of the earth."
Sara read the desire in his eyes just before he crushed her mouth gently beneath his own. His tongue plunged between her lips, tasting her as she tasted him.
Grissom's hand drifted over her, stroking, exploring, teasing. "My God, you are beautiful." He bent his head and dropped a trail of kisses in the valley between her breasts.
Sara arched against him, almost embarrassed by her urgent need for him. She touched his skin with her tongue. "You taste good," she whispered.
He gave a soft, husky laugh that dissolved into a groan. He cupped her butt and squeezed gently. "I have wanted you for weeks, dear."
Sara felt the hard length of his erection pressed against her thigh and shifted slightly so he settled between her legs.
"I want you," she whispered as she lifted against him.
He reached down and opened her with his fingers, guiding himself into her snug opening. Instinctively, her legs went around his; she ached as much as he did.
"Sara," Grissom breathed as he surged into her in one powerful stroke. "Yes. Oh, God, yes." He held himself in place—the velvet warmth surrounding the most sensitive part of his body. He had to breathe—slowly—he had to clench muscles—to keep from coming quickly.
The feeling of fullness slammed through Sara—a sensation literally indescribable. She made a soft exclamation and clutched Grissom's shoulders. This was what she missed so acutely in his absence that the act almost caused her to cry if other emotions had not been racing along her spine.
Grissom eased himself partway out of her and then pushed slowly back into her. "You feel so incredibly good—Sara, I've missed you—every day." He moved again, slowly building his pace. "Hold me, Sara."
She tightened her arms around him, moving with him as nerves and muscles responded to passion, all other thoughts pushed away. She felt herself lifting with him until spasms became waves indistinguishable from stormy tides that carried her into a whirlpool of a warm, welcoming salty sea. She wanted all of him—pulling the part of him that belonged only to her inside, holding, squeezing, trembling as their bodies seem to pulsate in unison.
A similar response occurred in her husband as his body claimed her, muscles tightened, contractions moved through his pelvis, up his spine, and crashed into his brain with his orgasm before he collapsed on top of her. It was the most intense feeling of pleasure he could experience and one he experienced only with Sara.
"I love you, Sara," he whispered. "More than I can ever say—every day we are apart I miss you."
Sara softly whispered, "Gil, you know I love you." She buried her face against his neck, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes, her lips against his skin.
A long while later, Sara stirred. She was conscious of Grissom's warm thigh across her legs. His arm was wrapped tightly around her. She realized he was awake. She nuzzled her face into the curve of his neck and shoulder.
"Gil?"
"Ummmm?"
"What are you thinking about?"
He squeezed his arm around her. "Nothing, dear. Can you sleep?"
"Yes."
He rolled to his side, pulling her closer, fitting his leg over hers, and pressing his groin against her hip. "Do we need to talk?"
"No," Sara whispered. "I'm so happy you are home. I've missed you so much."
He smiled. "From now on, we're together. I won't go without you."
Sara smiled and nodded; her eyes closed as he kissed her. After a moment, Sara made a soft sound as she turned, wiggling her butt as she pressed against him. Another few minutes, and rest, sleep, and desire of his wife had restored Grissom's arousal capabilities.
"Look what we've done," she giggled.
Grissom pumped his hips several times. "He's missed you too," he said as he slid under covers, grabbing her butt, and kissing her—beginning at her throat. His lips worked—tasting her skin as his hands and fingers found intimate places elsewhere that lovers know. Their second union was more playful, more physical, yet more intimate than the previous one. And after an emotional, joyous rollercoaster of pleasure, they both slept for hours in the quietness of home.
A/N: Thank you for reading, a special thanks to those who review! and the story continues!
