Gil Grissom didn't seem to care about any of that. He only seemed to care about getting the skin that was hidden by the material.
A banquet on his bed; a dinner much more palatable to his tongue, he was sure. But where to begin?
Candles in his bedroom as well. He'd planned this, he needed this. Glorious golden tinged skin stretched over endless limbs, all reaching out for him.
"Do you love me Sara Sidle?"
Her arms, long and lean, were stretched above her head, the freckles on her chest creating fascinating constellations that he vowed to view later. "You know I do..."
Her voice, when she spoke to him, was a whisper coated with thick sugar, flowing slowly into his ears, down his spine to settle so delicately in his stomach. "Say it, I need to hear you say it." A deep secret of his, so lonely inside his crowded head, he needed her to need him and in that moment, he needed her.
"I love you Gil Grissom." Gil Grissom, not Gil, not Griss. Gil Grissom, she loved all of him. Him.
Oh, he wanted to splay his hands on her hips and love her into pure submission. Draw out her cries and make them his own. Her butterscotch-skin hummed with the warm glow from the flames. Never had an image inflamed him so.
And he kissed her, deeply, as only a longtime lover would know to do.
Tongue against his, she moaned massaging him with lush vibrations. He knew only how to moan back and disengage, trailing his lips to her jawbone.
A seasoned traveler, unfolding a treasure map with care, beginning his journey with patience. He was at point A and on his way to point B, he intended to see the sights, smell the roses.
When she kissed him she cupped the back of his skull, holding him to her. His breath, his taste, so sweet. So dark. Her new favorite taste, to be sure. She trailed her modest nails across his scalp and he fought the groan that erupted from his throat. He felt, perhaps, like a cat, fat and content, splayed across the floor in the sun, being loved by the rays. Yes, he could envision himself lying naked on the floor with Sara, loving her beneath the warm glow of twilight.
But not before her loved her in the candlelight.
They were content to kiss for awhile, trace the contours of each others mouths' for some time, seeking and learning. But soon he became parched for her skin and sought refuge in the delightful hollow of her throat, nipping the skin there, soothing over it with his tongue. He seemed to seek out every obscure place on her body and stimulate her there. It was fantastic, it was enlightening, how did she ever live without this?
His hands, usually reserved for handling evidence, trailed over her arms, slowly, meticulously. She felt so, so on, and she didn't know if she could ever-
Oh he was kissing her collarbone. Pecking her collarbone before opening his mouth and sucking, so lightly that she wondered how it was physically possible to produce that sensation. Her hands tickled lightly up his back, slowly, surely, blazing tiny trails of heat where they went.
When he kissed her stomach she became nervous but was soothed when his hands sought out hers and their fingers intertwined on the mattress. It was the epitome of surreal, her mind was struggling to catch up with what was happening. Tracing the outline of her bellybutton, trailing one hand down her thigh to her ankle, pressing there for a moment.
It was erratic, the travel of his hands and lips. Unexpected, the spanses of skin he chose to adorn with his kisses. But she felt glorious and ready and bit her lip to keep from begging him.
Quickly, stealthily, he stole up her body and brought one set of hands up beside her head, he then re-grasped her hand in his and kept it stationary near their hips. Grissom brought his lips down and kissed over her knuckles, nestled so solidly in between his; he then tilted his head and kissed her cheek.
A single moment of time that froze-in that one moment he slipped inside of her, finding heat and love and oblivion... in that one moment.
Eyes slipping closed, a breathy sigh escaped her lips and she laughed, just a little. Her eyes opened and she looked at him. Grissom had never been so frightened in his life, there inside of her, looking into her eyes... it was the most frightening moment in his life. To love, so, so much...
A laugh bubbled out, a small one; a quiet one. Grissom's eyes darkened, wondering, thinking what her reaction meant.
"Mmm, I've just..." She sighed and squeezed his biceps lightly. "Never, ha, never felt this good." Licking her lips, she smiled up at him, waiting for him to react.
But he continued to stare down at her. Sara's smiled faded and her eyes drifted off somewhere to the left, and her lips nearly dove into a frown. "Love you..." She said, just barely perceptible and so sad.
Pieces, puzzle pieces filtered down, into place in his head. They clicked and set and his eyes truly opened for the first time and he saw her there, still beneath him, still with him, bathed in the candlelight he'd produced. She was there to be his.
And so he moved, and he head snapped around to meet his eyes and she sobbed, low and forlorn and loved and complete.
Together, they moved, bonelessly, meeting in the middle and retreating, but always coming back. Seeking out more. They sought and found and fell into the fire, burned to ashes and were released.
Her cries, so full, so luscious tickled his ears and he smiled, bent down and captured her lips.
And when she came and opened her eyes, her soul, just for him, he knew they were much more than friends.