This Last Chapter is rated M.
He stood there, several days after his last time inside the domain. Away from temptation, from sights and smells that triggered more primal instincts. Time to heal, to think...and for once wasn't that overrated?
He wasn't a ladies man as people whispered about in the hallways of the Lab when he first moved to Vegas. Not that he didn't know how to treat a woman in all the right ways; in respect, chivalry and yes, it wasn't pride, but Nick knew all he needed to in the art of pleasure. No one ever complained, and he had an ego, just like any other male.
He didn't come bearing flowers, or invitations to dinner. In front of the mirror at home he'd opted for a button-up striped shirt, comfy jeans. Picked them out for ease, not with his typical debate over what was too much or not enough.
He stood staring, waiting for the next move…knowing that this was not a league he played around with very often. Never in a million years with a woman like her.
It was equal parts exciting and intimidating. If he could just get his mind and body to agree on which part and use it to his full advantage.
Heather offered him a wine glass, filled with a fine red. He sipped on a beer instead, drawn once again to her dark lips.
They said nothing.
Each sat in a chair within her bedroom, candles the only light source. The mistress was either very confident, or the setting was just another example of a style difference. He had been tempted to visit the Martha Stewart Gothic website Greg had mentioned way back when, and couldn't bring himself to do something so cheesy and possibly insulting.
The alcohol made him warm, mixing it even the tiniest amount with the reduced amount of painkiller was stupid, so he kept to tiny swallows for social reasons. Though part of his brain insisted he drink the whole bottle all the way if not more.
"You think too much."
He licked foam from the edge of his lips. "What?"
Heather set his glass down, two fingers closed his eyes, he felt them twitch under the lids. A warm breath tickled the inside of his ear. "What do you really want?"
Walls, he was sick of them, of the protection. He didn't need to see what was right in front of him.
Nick said what first came to mind. "Out of this seat."
"This position has its perks, but I agree the bed is a more suitable place."
God, on the floor and in various rooms, but never in a chair. That got him firing on all cylinders. She tugged on his arm and he rose to his feet still blinded by her lingering fingers.
"Um..." Lips were on his, dry grapes and Harp mingled. A rake of hands through his hair, fingers curling, yanking. A trail of wetness from the corner of his mouth, then a divot inside, probing. Ravishing. A tongue brushed over his teeth, then she nibbled on his bottom lip.
Ten fingers over his scalp, hot fire down his neck, penetrating muscles along both sides of his spine, ending their way at his ass.
"Keep your eyes closed, move backwards to the bed."
She found her way to his hips, urging him, fingers anchored in belt loops and for some reason he obeyed, stepping awkwardly. Salt, skin, even the flavor of blackberry lipstick, air wasn't so important when you're too busy ignoring it. Because his legs hit a post, and he was too busy memorizing the inside of her mouth to care.
He had two handfuls of thick, tangled up hair and still managed to cup each side of her face. The movement of her jaw underneath his fingers was tantalizing, knowing exactly what the rest of her mouth was doing to him.
The tip of hot madness entered his ear. A flick, then swirling sensation, and he could not stop moaning. His ear was an erogenous zone, the lobe suckled, chewed gently, and the inside tickled by a whisper.
"Get on your back, Nick."
The mattress dipped as he crawled over it, body shivering with the need of those skilled lips over the rest of him. Sprawled over the satin bedspread, so blistering hot that before he could grunt out the need to shed his shirt, her hands were on him again, tugging it out of his jeans.
Despite how hard he was, an alarm bell was loud in ears still reeling from being probed with that goddamn wonderful tongue.
"Wait." It was nearly impossible to get past a salivating mouth. Heather's warmth spread to the very marrow of his bones, straddling over him. It took total force of will, a hand clamped to each arm, to keep her from popping every last button.
Those eyes... She wanted to. Nick opened his, gaining equilibrium. "I'm not someone…" He swallowed before his throat dried up again. "You don't have to be in control all the time. This...this should be shared. I can give as much as you need."
Heather dug one knee into the bed on each side of him. "I want to share, Nick... I just want to give you something you won't forget."
"Allow me to reciprocate." He held her tight, waiting to release the pause button.
"Oh, I expect nothing less. But..." She brought his hand to her lips. "Allow me my turn."
Nick loosened his hold and she undid the bottom section of his shirt, while his hands fidgeted with the top part, unveiling his chest of smooth, tanned skin, and well-defined pectorals. Every rib another tribute to his six-pack abs that she ran her fingers down. "Keep your eyes closed, Nick. I promise you'll enjoy this."
He let out a groan, mixed with an unexpected laugh. "I don't want to be tied up."
It amused her. "No need for that," as she lifted her weight briefly, crawling over him, balanced on one knee and reached for a drawer. Her skirt rode up her thighs revealing to him the lack of any panties.
He ruined her stockings when a hand snagged and snarled the weave in response.
Slowly she settled on top of his pelvis, ever aware of the bulge straining against the denim. Heather adjusted her hips to make him groan more, still very attentive to his left leg. She undid the cap of lotion, rubbed the scented oil between her fingers, then poured a trail down his chest, allowing the liquid to run down the contours of his chiseled stomach.
It was warm to the touch, and made silky the dips separating each rib. Each luscious touch increased muscle constrictions, and aided in the streaks of pink lotion spilling over Nick's panting belly. Heather marveled at the canvas. Bright stickiness spread over clean, beautiful skin. Wholesomeness that her tongue painted with vigor. She began at the navel, dancing around, lapping cherry and flesh.
Every stroke earned increased audible sounds that encouraged the heat and tingle of the oil. Up his sternum, a detour down one curve, then back up, blowing along the sizzling skin. Nick squirmed under the whisper of her breath. Definitely not enough, but she had plans.
Adding oil from her pallet, another drop was squeezed right around his pecs, and tiny rivulets mixed with beading perspiration. On eye level with his chest, she blew one warm steady breath over the pool of stained skin. And waited and waited some more.
His nipple was hard before she even brushed enamel over flesh. Teeth, then greedy licks. That did the trick. Nick cried out with need, both his strong hands latched and sunk into her shoulder blades. Heather desired his digits to scrape through to the very flesh.
"No touching yet," she cooed, and pushed straining arms back to the mattress aware of every vein now popping to the surface.
Nick's instincts pushed upwards shaking off the restraint of his wrists. Just as teeth slipped from one nub, the mouth devoured his right one, suckling, twirling with warm fuzziness. Sensations of heaven were sent down nerve endings, to every fiber of his being. His body shook, and that little tilt thing she did with her hips, only stoked his rock hard cock. His hands melded flat to the bed to maintain his word, though it didn't keep him from rocking his hips forward to create friction over his groin.
Three senses, hearing, touch, and smell. Cherry sweetness wafted through his nose infused with that slip and slide of delicious lips. Sounds of wet smacking ate him up within oil swirls.
His only release was to gyrate under her, because his aching hardness demanded stimulation, begged for the same warmth and attention so lavishly adorned on his chest. It hurt, that was how fucking much it needed to be touched, and freed from his jeans.
A trail of moist fire down his belly, a belt loosened, and he panted, and moaned. "Please."
Nails ran vibrations down his zipper, sending shock waves right back through the rest of him. Damn if he didn't explode right there.
"God, please," he groveled even more, as fingers massaged the inside of both thighs right before his jeans were yanked off in one swift motion. His erection poked right through the opening of his boxers, and his face cooled with the droplets of sweat the action formed over his heated face.
Then he jackknifed, sent instantly to his elbows; his hands sought her but clawed smooth covers instead.
He couldn't breathe! Eyes rolled inside his head, satin heat along his cock, little waves with every fluffy puff of breath. Pure liquid pleasure, and Nick was unable control the little noises of ecstasy. And that's before he got buried to the hilt in a living vacuum.
Fingers found pulse points right behind each knee and somehow the nerves to his thighs took a road trip. The wound in the left one which should surely be in agony now, felt more like jelly. That meant that everything down lower had somehow overcompensated for the atoms ricocheting through his limbs in search of adding to the axons of nerves.
Bright fireworks burst behind his lids, sensation a living animal. His feet dug deep into the bedsprings, creaking with a pressure that could create holes. His knees bent, and he pumped into the cascade of suction. There was a constant thumping sound; his ears were amped up by his squeezed-shut eyes. The headboard banged the wall in time to a glorious, almost aggressive blowjob.
And that was before she began to hum.
Heather had excellent muscle control; taking Nick in fully was a talent she enjoyed. Creating those sounds out of him made her redouble the effort. A simple vibration of vocal cords and the Texan plunged in deeper, no iota of forethought to what he was doing. That was the trick, to make him drop all those sweet building blocks and let go... Become primal and abandoned.
Then she switched things up, no, he wasn't going to climax just yet, the wild ride of sensation had just begun. She twirled slowly, with meticulous intent. Sweet berry flavor merged with his natural lubrication. Up, and around the head switching speeds to keep him on the brink. His elbows gave and Nick collapsed back to the bed, huffing for air. Smiling to herself, Heather teased along a thick juicy vein.
His knees buckled too, flailing with the momentum change, around and around she went, until he broke the rules.
"Now."
Heather felt him pull away and before her mind caught on to the fact, she'd been flipped onto her back. Nick's flushed, dazed face loomed over her.
"Time to let go for once."
That deep accent made her purr, but it was that tone that made her flip and want him so damn badly. It was CSI Stokes' voice, reserved for killers and suspects, directed right at her. The don't fuck with me, full of bravado and power voice.
A set of hands slipped under her loose, silky shirt, and found her breasts. Pinching and teasing, a mouth on hers, cherry flavor mixed with tongue and lips once again. One hand shoved her skirt down to her knees, and he didn't seem to care that she hadn't had time to even kick it off her ankles.
Nick was all about movement, and touch.
Her body was clay, his hands molding, smoothing as he lay over her. She ground his stiff heat along her kiln, fire to flame. Nick took his time; what he didn't rub, he licked. Skin was nothing but a surface to expertly cleanse with an artful muscle.
Suck, twirl, and nibble. Repeat.
Nothing was left untouched, from the hollow of Heather's throat, to her vulnerable stomach fluttered by the things he did to her navel. He was both leather and lace. Sweet compassion ignited an untapped keg of nitroglycerin. All the sorrow, the buried pain, masked guilt, and unfulfilled need...a bomb ready to explode.
Unleashed, he was a man given free rein. Allowed to feel, to want and receive. And she would damn well let him. Because after this night, it was back to formalities. One playing field roped off from another. A stranger finding his way back... After being gone somewhere foreign and tasted the most forbidden fruit.
The room filled with moans, unintelligible words, her nails dug into his back, and that was all it took for him to find Eden.
It was blur for a quick moment, safety and control enough to grab the condom, slip it on, and keep on with the aaaawws and oooohhhhs. A slurp there, a bite elsewhere. Still the foray was with careful consideration.
If only all lovemaking came with this kind of consideration. But that was the point...this wasn't just sex.
Heather had enough, and it was time to shift gears. Just enough of a forceful shove, and she was above. Eyes glistened at his heaving chest and gorgeous body. She moved on to him. He entered her, inch by inch. Filling her body with him, watching his eyes now opened, taking in her face... Every twitch and every inescapable grin and groan.
Then... There it was. The sweet spot for them both. He sucked in a breath to her loud exhale. She acclimated to him and they fused with each other. Nick arched each time to meet her with passion, but held back. When Heather set a more challenging pace, his hands encouraged every thrust. To think she wanted to spare him a strain to his injury. The way he reciprocated tenfold made her move down on him with more flair and creativity.
Nick branded her back with his prints; she returned the favor with red hash marks over his chest that faded away as she did every trick in the book to prolong the experience. Chemistry was unpredictable and the combustion near its height. With other nights filled with screams, and inflicted pain; the sounds of their acts filled her ears with notes of a sweet symphony.
Ebb and flow of simple release and expression. As they reached their shared peak, she vowed not to ignore the core values of Eros. When he let out a cry of fulfillment, she bestowed on him thanks for this moment with her own scream.
Nick was flushed, body and mind hazy and spent. A sweet, lazy glow filled every pore. Heather lay beside him, tracing small circles over his chest, as he did the same to her hair. He knew basking would sustain him for a long while. This wasn't some game; both knew their roles when he entered her bedroom.
An alien in her world, but one who escaped with knowledge so few were privy too, they all wore masks. She during different circumstances, but deep down inside he knew how very few had seen the real lady of the Domain.
He concentrated on the scent of her hair one final time.
"It's good to open up to someone," her voiced drifted through his ears.
Nick knew what she referred to, and it wasn't about mad passionate sex. He didn't know where that part of him came from. Partially scared by it, but he relished in the sections of the shell it broke away.
"I guess it'll be a while before the next time you come by."
He massaged her scalp. "I hope it might be. Having to come here on a case would mean that something bad had happened."
She turned to her side facing him with a smile on her lips. Nick laughed again, then some more knowing she knew exactly what that gesture meant.
"I would rather your work didn't bring you here... But I'm glad you'll be back at it."
He felt sticky, drying oil over his skin. That wasn't enough to make him move. "It's who I am. And I won't deny it."
Heather traced the side of his face, and back into his tussled hair. "I knew you'd find your way back. We need the Nick Stokes of the world."
Nick kissed her forehead and she leaned into it. "I won't deny what that alley did to me, but I won't let it rule the rest of my life." He nestled down within the confines of silk and satin. "Thanks for helping show me that."
Heather rubbed her fingers over his heavy lids, sending him off to sleep. Content to revel in the warmth, feeling contented that even behind the walls of the domain, there were windows to pure souls. Every place had a purpose and she would strive to make sure hers did the work needed to be done.
A/N:
Thanks to those who supported this wild bunny. It's out of my system now, and I feel very re-charged. Every once in a while a writer needs to try and explore new things. Next CSI project will be the giant beast, written with Beth.Expect a very long story, with meaty chapters. It should see the light of day in early Sept.