Author's Note: I'm kind of nervous about how this chapter's going to be received, because sex, and stuff.
Breakdown
They were both panting when they broke the kiss. Red looked into Healy's eyes for a moment, and then he saw something shift behind her blue orbs, as though she had just made a decision. He protested when she disengaged from him and headed towards the greenhouse door, afraid that she had changed her mind, that she would walk out now and be lost to him forever. Instead, she made sure the door was securely closed and then bolted it before returning to his embrace.
"Galina?" he asked, his heart skipping a beat. She gave him a small smile.
"Don't get too excited, Healy," she said, "I just wanted to make sure we're not interrupted." She wound her arms around his waist, then stretched her legs until her mouth was level with his ear.
"I like holding onto you, and I have no intention of letting you go any time soon," she whispered. Then her tongue darted out to playfully trace the shell of his ear before moving on to his neck, just below the earlobe. The contact electrified him, and Healy practically growled with the pleasure of it. He hadn't had the faintest idea that this was a sensitive spot until Galina found it. No other woman had ever taken the time to seek out his erogenous zones. Intimacy for Sam had always felt as though his partner was doing him a favor by letting him touch her; it had been about him trying to bring pleasure to the woman (and usually falling short of the mark), but not being touched in return. After all, he had reasoned, it was so easy for men to take their pleasure from the act, so why should he expect anything extra?
But, as Galina sucked and nipped at the flesh between his neck and shoulder, it felt as though she were opening worlds up before him. Her fingers were on the buttons of his shirt, deftly unfastening them, and then her hands reached in, untucking his undershirt from his uniform pants and venturing under it to tangle in the hair on his chest, touching his skin and blazing trails of fire with her hands.
He captured her face in both of his hands, raising her head so that he could look at her, and the wicked smile playing on her lips almost made him come undone.
"God, woman; you're going to be the death of me," he said, lowering his lips to hers and kissing her fiercely, their tongues dueling at a frenzied pace. As he kissed her, he backed her up against the table. She surprised him when she jumped up onto it and then parted her knees, pulling him in exactly as she had done in his office, that day when she kissed him and kindled the fire that had, up until that point, been merely stray embers.
He had just detached their lips and begun to pepper small but meaningful kisses along her hairline when he felt her hands at his waist, unbuckling his belt and then working on his pants.
He said her name, then reached down to still her hands. She looked up at him, disappointment in her eyes and her lower lip captured between her teeth in an expression of naked vulnerability that made him want to pull her close and keep her in his arms forever.
"Do you…" she said questioningly, her voice deeper, huskier, sexier than usual, "Do you not want…?"
"No, it's not that," he reassured her, kissing her lightly, "It's just…are you sure? Now? Here?"
"Where else?" she asked, "It's not like we're overwhelmed with possibilities." Then, more seriously, "We might not have another chance like this anytime soon, Sam. I want you, and I don't want to wait."
With that, she proceeded to unbutton and unzip him, then tugged his pants and boxers down in one fell swoop. He was still unsure—not of wanting to make love with her; he had wanted that for longer than he could even articulate right now—but of the timing and the place. All protests, however, were driven from his mind when she touched him, her small, soft hand wrapping around the swell of him and effectively silencing any protests. God, it had been so long since a woman had touched him like that, and never the way that she did, with a tenderness that barely disguised her passion.
He was lost to her, and, as if on autopilot, he felt his hands surging forward to fumble with the waistband of her pants. He was much less coordinated than she had been, and he heard her let out a faint, highly-un-Red-like giggle as he somehow managed to get her underwear both stuck up her ass crack and tangled with her pants. She pushed his hands away and did it herself, moving on the table until she was naked from the waist down, spread out in front of him, claiming his mouth as she beckoned him in.
Healy groaned as he sheathed himself within her, feeling Galina around him, warm, wet and so tight that it felt like he had become part of her instead of merely being inside her.
She cried out as he entered, reaching beneath his shirt and digging her nails hard into his back. The momentary flash of pain brought him back to reality, and, when he looked down into her face, he was startled to see that her features were twisted in what looked like agony, her teeth piercing her lip to stop herself from whimpering.
"Oh, God, Galina, I'm sorry," he said, "Did I hurt you?"
"No," she ground out, wincing despite herself. Sam stilled within her, and his hand traced soft, soothing circles on her back. "Yes," she finally admitted, "But it's not your fault. It's just been forever. I just…give me a moment…"
"Do you want to stop?" he asked. Red shook her head.
"Don't you dare," she hissed. And then, she put all thoughts of cessation from his mind as she experimentally rocked her hips, forcing him almost completely out of her before taking him back in again. Despite the overwhelming urge to move, to bend her back completely and take her hard and fast, Sam forced himself to stay still and let her set the pace, slow and gentle at first, and then with mounting passion as she felt the pain subside and give way to pleasure.
"Sam," she moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist, melting the curves of her body into him, "Fuck me."
He eagerly complied, setting a furious pace as desire sparked between them. Her breath came loud and fast, and, despite the fact that they were both acutely aware that they couldn't be too loud, she couldn't stop the moans and gasps that escaped her lips as he drove her wild. In an effort to muffle the noise, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, pressing her lips to his flesh, kissing him and tasting his sweat beneath her tongue. Normally, the buildup of bodily fluids was her least favorite part of sex, but, for some inexplicable reason, with Healy, she found it oddly arousing.
Red's kisses were driving Healy to distraction and, when he felt her bite at him and then suck his skin into her mouth, he couldn't contain himself any longer. He grabbed her hip, stilling her movement and bracing her against him as he came. He remained inside of her for what seemed like an eternity after that, just holding her, feeling her, before finally separating them with a kiss to her forehead and reaching down to the floor for his pants. As much as he wanted to stay with her, entwined in one another, forever, he knew that time was of the essence. Anyone could come banging on the greenhouse door at any time and, if that happened, they would both want to be decent and to have an excuse on hand for why the door was locked…and why they were both sweaty and breathless…and why the air smelled like sex…
When he returned his attention to her, he was surprised to see that she hadn't immediately scrambled to put her clothes back on as he did. She was still half-naked, and she had tears tracing down her cheeks, one hand raised to her eyes to try and dash them away.
"Galina," he said softly, wrapping her up in his arms again, "Galina, what is it?"
"I'm fine," she replied, but the tears on her face betrayed the false bravado in her voice"Just…just ignore me."
"Absolutely not, solnyshka." Hearing the Russian endearment on his lips prompted a sob from Red, and Healy internally kicked himself. What if she had begun to regret the sex as soon as it was over? What if she thought that they had made a terrible mistake, or she felt like she had been taken advantage of? "I'm so sorry, Galina. What did I do? Talk to me…please." He was almost panicked now.
"It's nothing you did," she whispered, holding out one of her hands to him. He took it and pressed it, threading their fingers together and feeling the way hers trembled. "It's been so long, that's all. I hadn't been touched in…god, I don't even know…I just…I forgot that I could feel that way…"
She allowed him to slip an arm around her waist, to hold her against him and comfort her. When her crying ceased, he put his forehead against hers.
"So, you…you don't regret it?" he asked. Red understood that he wasn't just posing a question; he was also articulating his worst fear.
"No, not at all," she replied, "You gave me exactly what I wanted. I only regret that, now we've begun, we can't fuck all day, every day."
Her mouth against his was hot, and her kiss was suggestive. He wanted nothing more than to get her going again, but when he pulled back from her, they both knew that it was time to stop. Someone would come looking for Red if she wasn't in her kitchen soon to begin dinner prep, and Sam could only imagine how many inmates might have come knocking at his door in the time he'd been gone.
He bent to pick up Red's discarded pants from the floor, handing her clothes to her as she climbed down from the table and then watching her get dressed.
"You should come to my office soon…to talk," he said.
"Oh yeah? Are you going to counsel me?" she asked playfully. Sam smiled.
"Mm-hmm. I'll counsel you on top of my desk, then up against my bookshelf, and then we can break in my sofa."
Red snorted. "Your tiny little sofa that barely seats the two of us?"
"We're both intelligent human beings; we'll figure something out."
"If you say so, Healy," she said, and then, looking towards the door, "You should probably leave first. It will be much less weird if someone were to find me alone in here."
Sam nodded, scanning himself to make sure he looked presentable, and then casting a sad glance at her as he unlocked the door and disappeared from her sight.
Author's Note: I hope I kept these two in character. I'm pretty sure I got Healy right, because you know he'd super insecure and like a clumsy teenager, but I'm worried about how I've written Red. I realized that I have her crying a lot in this piece, and I don't want to write her as some sappy, weepy romance novel heroine because that's not who she is. But I really do feel like intimacy would be overwhelming and possibly painful for anyone after more than a decade. I had this vision of Red being very aggressive and taking the lead, but also being a little bit fragile because I feel like this would definitely be a situation where she'd feel really vulnerable. Tell me what you think!
