Sensuality had no place in neglected motel rooms. It required beauty and fresh air. It demanded delectable scents and mesmerizing clothing. Sensuality would never settle for mediocrity and dingy spaces. Not that Elizabeth knew much about it. In truth, she had always been neglectful towards it. She thought she couldn't possibly live up something so special. She was was convinced in her inability to provide it with everything it needed to sustain itself.
Surprisingly, Liz was starting to realize sensuality could be a fool too, and very easy to please. It was happily curled around Reddington's sleeping form in his tiny bed, next to hers. Evidently, all sensuality needed that night someone beguiling enough to accommodate it. And Reddington was nothing if not hospitable.
It was in that moment that Lizzie decided if sensuality could be stupid, so could she. So, she got out of her uncomfortable, dingy bed and headed over to his. He stirred as soon as she lifted his pathetic duvet, but she laid next to him anyway. Reddington woke up with a start as soon as she nestled her head on his stomach. He attempted to get up, but she was quick to stop him.
"Lizzie, are you alright?" he asked concerned.
"I'm okay, Red," she responded calmly and let her hand roam to the front of his boxers.
Unnecessarily, he asked her what she was doing, attempted to stop her ministrations, but she was too high on everything he was exuding and refused to come to her senses.
"I want you to relax," she crooned and kissed his chest through his T-shirt. "You've been on edge for weeks now," she continued as she finally wrapped her hand around his hard cock and started to stroke him. Her beautiful head on his stomach, fully relaxed. He grunted, unashamed.
She was going to get him off with something as simple as a hand-job.
He was letting her.
Sensuality was no fool.
