Chapter Thirty-Nine
"Emily." It came out like plea; his voice louder, strained, even. A desperate question that fell from his lips with such longing, he was almost embarrassed. He should stand up. Stand up, and walk out. He didn't. He couldn't. Mostly because Hotch thought if he stood up, he wouldn't head to the door, but to the bed, where Emily was tracing a hand slowly up her thigh. And he wasn't allowed to touch. He shifted in his seat, trying to relieve the uncomfortable tightening of his slacks.
"I got over you," Emily said, from the bed, where her fingers were still trailing lazy circles up her own thigh. One of the straps of her slip had fallen down, and she didn't bother to fix it. Leaning back on one hand, the other continued it's gentle rotations higher and higher, the hem of her dress following it. Hotch's mouth was dry, as he watched, focused on the actions of her hand, wishing it was his own. "I got over you. I haven't thought about you in months. I used to think about you all time time, when I first moved to London. I thought about that night in my apartment, and the elevator, and the night in the hotel, the night in Rossi's. You were always there. Then you went away and now...now, I don't think about you." She paused, eyes locked on his. "But I fantasise about you all of the time."
His dick practically jumped at the admission, and Hotch suppressed the low groan that wanted to project from his throat. He closed his eyes a moment, lips parted just slightly, but, much as he hated himself for it, Hotch didn't want to miss a second of this.
"Do you fantasise about me?" The hand disappeared from her leg and Hotch followed it up, as Emily rubbed her shoulder, leaning her long, slender neck to the side. He remembered the taste of her there, the feeling of leaving little red bruises there, of marking her as his. Emily seemed to be remembering it, too, as she grasped her own throat, running her hand up, and then down, where it drifted lazily across the swell of her breasts. Hotch couldn't speak. He watched her fingers, with their short nails, graze at the neckline of her slip, where her dress began, and hid the rest of her from his view. "Hm?" She prompted, lazily tracing the length of the lace, from the swell of her breast, to her cleavage, and back up again, raising goosebumps on her own skin. "Do you?"
"Yes." It came out as nothing more than a hoarse whisper, an admission of guilt and of longing. Hotch shifted in his seat again, his hard dick straining to be let free, begging to be touched. The satisfied smile that graced Emily's naturally red lips at his confession only made him harder. Fisting at the couch, Hotch breathed heavily through his nose as he watched her fingers move down, tracing a circle around where he knew her nipple to be. The silky fabric puckered, the shape of her nipples clear and evident and so inviting.
"Fucking tease." He swore, low and guttural, and Emily smiled, tongue ghosting over her teeth as she closed her eyes against the sensations she was giving herself.
"I don't mean to be," She lied, the innocent tone of her voice making him wild. Opening her eyes, looking at him through her lashes, Emily saw Hotch shift on the couch, pulling awkwardly at the crotch of his suit trousers. "You should make yourself more comfortable, Agent Hotchner."
That did it. Hotch wanted to march over to the bed, flip her over and slam into her without mercy. She would love that, it would make her scream. The thought of it made his mouth dry. Instead, Hotch stood up.
Emily watched with delicious pleasure, still lazily tracing circles around her nipples, as Hotch removed his blazer and tie, slinging them over the back of the sofa. The belt came next, and when he cracked it against the air, Emily's eyes widened and she felt the heat at her core intensify. He unbuttoned his trousers, but that was as far as Hotch got before he sat back down, slinging one arm over the back of the sofa, the other resting on his thigh, close to, but not touching, the hard outline in his trousers that she could clearly make out, even from across the room.
"These fantasies," Hotch cleared his throat, the hand at his thigh twitching towards his cock, content to play her little game for a while. "Tell me about them?"
Emily hummed her approval of Hotch getting into the swing of things, and palmed her breast through her slip, squeezing, watching Hotch's eyes darken, never leaving the motion of her hand. When his tongue came out to dart over his lips, she actually groaned. "I can show you." Her other hand, the hand behind her, resting on the bed sheets, moved, taking up the same actions from before, tracing circles, hearts, stars, on her thighs. Travelling higher and higher.
"I want you to talk." Hotch demanded, enthralled by the sight of her. She tilted her head back, long, dark hair falling down her back, and Hotch's eyes flitted between the hand massaging at her breasts and the one about to reveal her underwear to him. He rubbed himself, gently, through the material of his trousers. That felt good. "Tell me how these fantasies go."
He watched as her fingertips finally grazed the hollow between her thighs and her groin, and his eyes grew wide as Emily ghosted her fingers across the tiny strip of black lace that kept her hidden from him there, humming her own pleasure at the slow, sensual movement.
"They go lots of different ways." She admitted, now following the pattern of the lace of her thong, feeling the dampness there already. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back and letting herself enjoy the motion of her finger tips. The second strap of her slip had fallen and Emily made no move to fix it. Hotch was transfixed as the slip fell further and further down, knowing that any moment her perfect breasts, those that had filled his own dreams for months, would once again be his to marvel at. The silk fell slowly, catching on the peak of her nipple. Emily left it there, and Hotch wanted to swear at her again. Fucking little tease. "Sometimes we're back in my apartment. Sometimes we're on the jet. Sometimes we're..." She gasped, as her index finger grazed lightly over her bundle of nerves, the lace of her underwear only exacerbating the sensation. "In your office."
That made Hotch groan aloud, and the sound sent a gush of pleasure into Emily's underwear.
"I've had that dream," He said, and she was surprised at the admission; she hadn't had to pull this one from him. "I've had that dream, that fantasy, a thousand times over, Emily." He gripped himself through his trousers, his hand moving slowly up and down, and the pleasure of finally touching himself, as he watched her, was immense. "Even before."
"Tell me," She asked, breathlessly. She moved her body, a little sort of thrust forwards, and the silk fell away from her, leaving her chest bare to him. His mouth wasn't dry anymore; it watered as he stared at her breasts. Emily brought a hand up to pinch at her nipples, trailing a teasing finger around them first, before pulling harshly, making herself gasp. Hotch wanted to be the one making her gasp like that, so he did as she asked.
"I dream about you. I dream about that day in my office, what would have happened if JJ hadn't walked in," At the mention of the blonde, they both touched themselves a little harder, Emily pushing the pad of her finger against her clit, grinding the lace of her underwear against it, Hotch gripping at the base of his cock, slowly squeezing and releasing as he worked it towards the tip. "I think about that red shirt you were wearing, and how badly I wanted to rip it from your body. How badly I wanted to see you like this."
Hotch's hand stilled as he watched Emily's hand dip into her underwear, finally. She didn't move them to the side though, didn't give him the full view, but even from across the room, he could see the moisture there when she pulled her hand away again, running it up her torso to stimulate her nipples once more, leaving them glistening with her juices. "Keep going." It was almost a whine from her throat, and who was he to deny that voice?
"I think about bending you over my desk," He admitted, saying words he had never before said aloud. Emily's groan made his cock twitch and Aaron slipped the hand stroking in it into his boxers, watching as Emily finally moved her underwear to the side, giving him a beautiful view of her glistening core, wet with lust and anticipation and desire for him. "I think about tasting you." That wasn't where he had intended to go, but now that she was bare to him, her fingers spreading her lower lips to give him a better view, it was all he could think about. She looked delicious.
"We've never done that before," Emily lay back against the bed now, bringing one led up to rest her foot on the edge of it, exposing herself to him completely, giving herself better access, better angles to feel it from.
Hotch found he couldn't respond when he watched Emily insert two fingers into herself. He watched them disappear, past the first knuckle, then the second, and he watched as she curled her fingers up, expertly finding the spot she new would bring her the most pleasure. The gratified gasp, followed by a satisfied sigh, made her breasts swell and fall in a way that Hotch couldn't take his eyes away from. He didn't know where to look, between her fingers as they disappeared inside of her, and her hard-tipped breasts, their rosy peaks desperate to be sucked. His cock was hot and hard in his hand, and Aaron began to work it faster now. Emily's fingers moved, starting up a steady rhythm, and Aaron stared, mimicking the rhythm of her fingers with the hand around his cock, remembering what it felt like to be buried in her warmth.
"Hotch," Her voice drew him back to the moment. He stood up, his cock standing out proudly from his body, and kicked off his jeans and boxers as he walked to where she lay on the bed. Emily's eyes widened a moment, and he knew she wouldn't object if he wanted to fuck her, but that wasn't what he was doing. He just wanted a better view. Her eyes fell hungrily onto his exposed member, and he was sure he heard the squelch of her fingers speeding up. He moved between her legs, grasping himself in his hand once more, and Emily licked her lips, hungrily, as she watched him pleasure himself over the sight of her.
"Hotch," It wasn't a request, or a gasp, but encouragement. He loved to hear his name on her tongue, especially in the breathless and desperate way she said it now, and Emily knew it. She spread her legs wider, giving him an even better view. He wanted to reach down, run his hand up the flat pane of her stomach, trace her scars with his tongue, feel the weight of her breasts in his hand, the heat of her core on his palm. Every thought has his hand working faster over his cock. Precum formed at the end, leaking out of him, and he watched as it dripped from the end of his member, landing on Emily's stomach and trailing down the definition of her abs, until it pooled in her belly button. When he looked back up at her face, Emily was biting her tongue, her eyes dark, as her fingers moved rapidly inside her body. She was straining, he could tell, desperately chasing her release.
"Emily?" The question in his voice this time was desperate. Her lips were red where she was biting so hard, her breasts bare to him, neglected, as she fisted at the bed sheets, so desperate to find her own pleasure. "Emily?"
"Yes, Hotch, please," he didn't need asking twice and as he lined himself up with her entrance, he felt Emily's heels dig into his ass. He knew what she wanted and he wasted no time, thrusting hard into her body. She jolted up the bed at the impact, eyes rolling immediately back in her head at the perfect pleasure of Hotch filling her up.
"Oh, fuck." Her hand released the sheets of the bed, both coming up to rest above her head as she let him use her body, loving every second of it, lavishing over the hard pressure of him inside her body, and the delicious way her walls burned to stretch to accommodate him. Hotch fucked her. He didn't make love to her, not this time. It was hard and fast and rough and Hotch could tell Emily was loving every minute of it, as her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth opened in a silent oh. Every time he rutted up against her cervix, every time he jolted her body up the bed, so much so that he ended up kneeling fully on the mattress, she moaned, low in her throat. Her eyes closed, thighs tight around him like a vice, and Hotch knew it didn't matter that it was him, in that moment, Emily was just enjoying being used. That made him work harder for it: he wanted her to be glad it was him.
He grabbed her shoulders, using them as leverage to pound into her harder and faster. Emily's eyes popped open at this new development, as her breasts bounced and her insides gripped at Hotch. She tried to speak, the words catching in her throat.
"Ho-" she groaned, legs falling weakly away from his back as Hotch continued his relentless rhythm. He was sweating, hair falling into his eyes, but the way Emily's eyes unfocused as her pleasure mounted, he didn't care.
"Fuck, Em, you're so tight," He crouched low over her, his breath hot against her ear, as her walls clamped tight around him, thrusting shallowly as Emily's orgasm hit her. Her back arched up off of the bed, pressing her tits against him, veins in her neck straining as the pleasure coursed its way through her body. The sight of her like that proved too much for Hotch and he came with a long, growling keen in her ear. The feeling of him inside of her, of his seed soaking her walls, encouraged Emily's orgasm, riding her through it. She wrapped her arms around Hotch's damp back, his shirt sticking to his chest as he continued to thrust slowly, the last drops of his pleasure leaking into her, his cock slowly growing soft inside of her. He stopped moving, dropping his weight onto her, and Emily held him there, running one hand up and down his back, over his shirt, and smoothing the other gently through his hair, soothing him back to earth.
Hotch moved first, and Emily missed the weight of him immediately, watching as he unbuttoned and discarded his shirt, until she felt the bed dip, then rise as he knelt down between her legs.
"What are yo-" Her words caught in her throat as Hotch leaned in towards her and licked her, in one smooth motion, from bottom to top. "Ohhh, yes." She moaned, long and blissful, eyes falling shut at the contact. She was still sensitive from the intensity of her orgasm, but Hotch moved slowly, gently, soothingly.
Her hips rose to meet him, but Hotch smiled, tongue still pressed against her wet centre, and lifted a hand to press on her abdomen, pushing her back down onto the bed. She fought him a moment, before letting him push her down into the soft mattress, holding her there while his tongue continued it's machinations.
"You taste so good, Em," His praise made her mewl, and as he taunted her with gentle, sweeping licks across her folds, she grew wetter, and more frustrated.
"Hotch." Overly sensitive and weak from her orgasm, she was pleading with him. He felt himself begin to grow hard again as her voice went straight to his groin, the sound of her whines urging him onwards. She was writhing beneath him, chasing after her own pleasure and Hotch was through playing with her. When his lips found her clit, and sucked gently, Emily's back arched up off of the bed, hands gripping at the sheets beneath her, and she made a strangled noise in the back of her throat, unable to voice her pleasure. He lapped at her, tasting both of them on his tongue, as he moved the hand on her stomach down, teasing her with his fingers as he sucked on her clit. Inserting his fingers was easy; she was so wet, she took the first two easily, so he added a third. Their juices mingled, seeping out of her as he began to pump his fingers, curling them inside of her, mimicking her own actions from earlier. She was breathless above him, a one of her hands moving from the sheets to tangle in his hair, pressing her against him, all but suffocating him against her.
Hotch was drunk on her. On the scent of her, the taste, the sound as her orgasm build. His tongue moved madly, obscene, wet noises filling the room, accompanied by Emily's little noises of pleasure. All of it together was driving him insane and he had to keep from reaching between his own legs and tugging at himself. He was working to get her off, and he could tell by the way Emily fell almost silent that she was close.
"Oh, come for me, sweetheart," He spoke into her sex, and the vibrations against her clit sending her swiftly over the edge. Hotch maintained the speed of his hand and tongue as she fell apart, juices coating his mouth and jaw, unholy sounds filling the hotel room. She convulsed above and around him, pleasure making her shake, the hand in his hair gripping so tightly it hurt.
Hotch didn't even wait for her to come down from her high before he crawled up between her legs. She was still shaking when he entered her, groaning at the slick warmth he found there, feeling like he was, finally, home. She reached for him, dragging him down to kiss her as he began moving his hips. She whimpered beneath him and he slowed, dragging himself out of her at an excruciatingly slow pace, before driving back, strong, slow and steady.
"Fuck, I love you." He breathed against her lips, so close his own brushed against hers as he spoke. She gasped, breathing into his mouth, as he brushed against a sensitive spot, and her eyes closed, involuntarily, head tilting back, exposing her neck to him. He latched on, sucking kisses down across the creamy expanse of skin before him. "I love you, Emily." He repeated, as he thrust into her with determination, feeling his own release close on the horizon.
She was dying. She had to be. Nobody could feel this good and not be dying. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she encouraged him, but Hotch maintained the agonising slow pace, letting her feel every contour of him as he invaded her body in the best way. His words made her heart clench, and her walls grip him tighter.
"I love you." She told him. He paused, buried deep inside of her, and lifted his head to meet her eyes. Her own were glassy with tears, but she nodded at him. "I love you, Aaron." She dragged him up to her, kissing him, long and deep, tongue tasting herself on his kiss-swollen lips. "I love you so much." She was crying now, sobbing, and clung to him as he began to drive them both towards their peak. It wasn't a race this time. Lips still pressed to hers, tongues locked together, Hotch swallowed her scream as Emily came, walls clutching him so tightly, sucking him in deeper, and then he was coming, deep inside of her, marking her as his own. "I love you." She sobbed against his lips, in between kisses, and Hotch lifted a hand, brushing damp hair back from her forehead as his lips moved from hers, showering her face with quick, soft kisses. Her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids, her forehead. Anywhere he could reach, he kissed. When his lips found hers again, their kiss was slow, soft.
"Stay."
Emily opened her eyes, looking at him, hovering over her, hair flopping down into those brown eyes that had always been able to see right through her. They were sad, earnest, scared. "Emily, stay with me."
She stared, lips slightly parted. A tear leaked from her eye, fell down the side of her face, settled in her dark hair. She shook her head. "I can't."
It came out as a whisper, and Emily watched as Hotch's heart broke, the fear in his eyes realised. He pushed himself off of her, sitting to the side. For a minute, Emily couldn't move, she felt the loss of him so deeply. Then she sat up, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her searched for the words she needed to explain. "I don't deserve you, Hotch."
He looked at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What?"
She was holding back tears now, tears of a whole different kind, knowing that if she let it, the dam would break and she'd be a gasping mess, unable to say everything she needed to. "Don't you see? I broke Isla's heart because I love you. I love you so much that I hurt somebody. I don't deserve to be happy with you, after doing that." She shook her head, "I don't deserve you. You deserve better than me."
"Emily-" He moved quickly, kneeling on the floor in front of her, his hands finding hers. Emily dropped her knees, dress falling back into place to cover her modesty as he knelt, naked, before her. "I love you." He squeezed her hands, as though his words weren't enough. "You do deserve to be happy."
Still, Emily was shaking her head, unable to meet his eyes. She inhaled, sharply, through the tears. "I hurt her..."
"I hurt Beth." Hotch admitted, the guilt and hurt evident in his one, "I hurt her, too. We've both done wrong, Em. We've both made mistakes. But, would Isla want you to be miserable for the rest of your life because you made a mistake? I don't believe that. And I don't believe Beth would, either."
She looked up, meeting his eyes, and all he saw there was defeat. How had she gone from being so happy, so elated, so blissful, only a few moments before, to this shell of a woman in front of him? Hotch pulled her towards him, catching her on his lap as she slid from the bed, and held her tight against him, as the sobs wracked her body. There was more, he knew, to this, than what had happened with Isla.
"I see him-" She sobbed, "Ian. I see him, all of the time. He's in my head, in my dreams. I can't get away from him. The only time I don't see him is-" She hiccuped, tears stealing away her breath, "Is when I'm with you. He's my punishment. For everything."
He cradled her against his chest, rocking back and forth as she cried. There was nothing for him to say; he knew there were no words to take away her guilt, nothing he could say to convince her that the nightmares weren't a punishment. So he didn't say anything, he just held her. Held her until the tears stopped, and she finally stood up and moved away from him.
"I have to get ready." She said, gesturing vaguely towards the door. He stared at her, but she couldn't meet his eyes. Neither of them spoke as Hotch gathered his clothes and dressed quickly and quietly. Before leaving, he crossed he room, standing in front of her, sliding one large hand into her hair. Emily closed her eyes, leaning her face into his hand, as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
"I'll see you at the wedding." He said, softly. "Think about what I said."
Her skin was warm from his touch, and Emily nodded, as he walked from the room. "I will."