Fic: Stranded Again: Got Wood? by hotchityhotchhotch
Title: Stranded Again: Got Wood?
Author: hotchityhotchhotch
Rating: M
Characters/Pairings: Hotch/Emily
Summary: Sequel to "Stranded." Hotch and Emily get lost in the woods. Enough said.
"We got him," Morgan's voice sounded through Hotch's radio.
"Let's head back, Prentiss," Hotch said.
"Thank God. It's getting dark," Emily said, looking at the dense forestry around them. A couple of birds chattered up high in the trees and a small mammal-a squirrel or chipmunk-hid under a log as the intruders passed by.
"Are you afraid?" Hotch teased, a twinkle in his eye.
She rolled her eyes, jumping over a little stream of water, trying to keep her boots dry.
"Do you get scared of the dark as easily as you get cold?" Hotch kept on, wagging an eyebrow as he followed Emily over the water, his longer legs removing the necessity to jump.
"You know what, Hotch?" Emily said warningly.
"What?" he responded, unfazed, still amused with himself.
She groaned. "I thought we were going to pretend that never happened." Emily glanced around her, suddenly disoriented.
"Our weekly rendezvous in my office after everyone else is gone for the night doesn't really classify as 'pretending that never happened.'" Hotch said pointedly. "But if you want to call dirty sex on my desk 'pretending that never happened,' be my guest."
Emily grinned, turning back to Hotch to let him see. He met her grin and raised her a toothy smile. "You sure we came this way?" he asked after another minute of wandering.
"Pretty sure. I remember that tree," she said, pointing.
"How? They all look the same to me."
"That one had those giant claw marks in it. Oh, great, bears," she deadpanned. "Montana. Of course, bears. And it's summer now, so they aren't even hibernating. Okay, I'm checking the map," she said decisively.
Hotch was soon over her shoulder. As he looked on with her, he felt an urge to rest a hand on Emily's hip, but resisted it. The office sex was bad enough. Trying to disconnect his feelings for Emily from working with her proved more and more difficult every time they kissed, every time he saw her with every shred of clothing missing, every time she opened her luscious thighs for him. It had started out mostly physical, and, truth be told, hadn't officially gone beyond anything but that, but he felt himself yearning for more. The idea of loving Emily scared him though, not only because it would affect his decision-making skills as a leader even more than sleeping with her already was, but also because he hadn't been with anyone for so long. He wasn't sure if he wanted to risk messing up with her. Maybe he needed a true rebound first.
Even without an established relationship, he was starting to feel overly protective of Emily, had caught himself a couple of times sending her on less risky assignments, or pairing her up with him, like he had today. A bona fide relationship wouldn't be fair to anyone else on the team. Hell, it was already unethical.
"Shoot. I think we are going the wrong way," Emily admitted. "The sun's setting over there, so that's west. We should be going that way."
"Well, it'll probably dip down into the forties tonight. Let's not take any chances. I'll call the sheriff; he can lead us out of here."
"With what? We have no landmarks. Turn left at the tree with the branches, then keep going until you see a rock?" Emily quipped.
Hotch gave Emily a look while he took his phone out of his pocket. "Of course. No service."
"We're in the middle of the middle of nowhere, which is in the middle of the middle of nowhere. Of course there's no service. Radio him."
"Yes, and let everyone know we're lost, Hotch said.
"Hey, we aren't lost," Emily said. "We're just being proactive, calling for help before we get lost."
"Sheriff Donahue, this is Agent Hotchner. Do you read me?"
After a few seconds of nothing, Emily began to laugh, leaning her butt against a pine tree and crouching over.
"Sheriff, this is Agent Hotchner. Agent Prentiss and I need assistance. Do you copy?"
"Oh, this is just great," Emily cackled almost gleefully.
"Do you mind?" Hotch pleaded. "Anyone?" he said into the radio.
"Let's just keep walking," Emily said.
"Guess we don't have any other choice." Hotch tucked away his radio and phone and set off after Emily.
-
"Seriously?" Emily whined in despair for what must have been the twelfth time.
"You know, you saying that doesn't make this any less frustrating." Hotch shined his flashlight in front of him, waving it back and forth, leading the way through the underbrush and around the plentiful trees.
"I know, but it feels good, and it obviously annoys you." She knew Hotch was rolling his eyes in front of her. She knew a lot of things about him. That he loved to be on top. Classic alpha male behavior. She wasn't surprised. Nor did she mind. She also knew he was short-tempered when it came to failing endeavors such as this, but rarely lost his temper with her. She also knew he was thinking about more than an orgasm whenever she lay down stark naked on his desk or perched herself in his lap as he braced his office chair into place with his heels. He thought about actually being with her. This made for some nice fantasies between trysts. Nothing more than that, though. She felt off center enough given the fact that she was screwing her boss. It wasn't like her. Not at all. To date him would be…marvelous, she couldn't lie…but an awful idea. The most awful of all awful ideas.
"What time is it?" Hotch asked. "The backlight on my watch isn't working."
"Ten," Emily said. Between Hotch's question and her response, the helpful full moon disappeared behind a dense cloud, making their quest that much more difficult, even with the flashlight.
"It's getting chilly out. Are you cold?" Hotch asked, not teasing.
"Not quite yet. We're moving; that helps."
"I think we should try to build a fire," Hotch said. "We might just want to hang out till morning, stop wandering around in the dark and making things worse. Plus, maybe someone will see."
"I'm glad your compass got left behind," Emily said. "Really helpful. Have I mentioned that?"
"A time or two. I don't see yours," Hotch said.
"I don't have as much pocket space as you do."
"I saw you put Chapstick on earlier. You had room for that."
"So? A girl's gotta protect her lips. You could use some, you know. Your lips were a little rough last time."
"Again, you're pretty bad at this pretending thing," Hotch said. "This looks like a good spot. Under trees in case it rains, nice open area in between for a fire, no low-hanging branches…let's go look for some wood."
Emily snorted.
"Not that kind," Hotch added hastily, sighing.
"We're lost in the woods," Emily explained. "I'm just glad for you that we don't have a tent to pitch, because I'd be giggling every time you said that, too."
Hotch picked up a long, thick branch and brandished it weakly at Emily. "You with the mouth. Help out a little here."
"What? With finding wood?" She circled around to approach Hotch from behind and placed a hand low on his stomach, underneath his black fleece pullover. "I think I know where we can find some."
"Emily, seriously." And he was serious. Dead serious.
Emily removed her hand, walking off (but not too far) in search of firewood. She felt slightly dejected, but eventually her mind just meandered to how they were going to manage to go all Discovery Channel without getting leaves up their asses.
...
Emily watched from her seat on a nearby fallen tree as Hotch struggled to light the fire the Boy Scouts way, crouched over on the ground, his back to her. The temperature was certainly dropping, but Emily wasn't too chilly yet in her long sleeved button-down, so instead of helping Hotch out, she monitored his progress, or lack thereof, with some taunts thrown in here and there.
"Hmm, do you think you're rubbing it hard enough?" Emily said sensually.
"Not helping…"
"Maybe you should blow on it a little, Hotch."
"Not funny…"
"You always used to be able to light my fire…"
"Emily, come on…"
Emily sighed and uncrossed her legs. "Here."
"What?" Hotch asked, trying to be patient, but feeling Emily was about to make another joke at his expense.
Emily dug her keys out of her pocket. Hearing the jingling, Hotch turned and caught Emily's keys just in time. "Oh, good, I was hoping I wouldn't have to hotwire our invisible SUV."
"Now who's being a smart-ass?" Emily retorted. "There's a flint and magnesium fire starter on my key ring. Just use the-"
"I know how to use one," Hotch snapped. "I'm just wondering why you let me spend half an hour trying to do this the hard way." He turned his back to Emily once again, lowered himself to the ground, and had a small blaze going in a minute. He straightened out the teepee of firewood and watched until the flames licked the undersides and wrapped around to the top. "Thank you," he said when Emily didn't give an answer.
"Yup…" Emily walked over to their pitiful pile of firewood and grabbed a long stick. Hotch was sitting with his legs crossed in front of him now, and Emily sat down next to him, watching the growing flames tickle the air while she traced patterns in the dirt.
"Sorry I snapped," Hotch said tenderly, slipping an arm around Emily's waist. For the first time, he intimated his deeper feelings and rested his lips on her cheek, which he felt warm instantly at his kiss. His lips had kissed probably every part of her body but there.
"It's okay," Emily said, her heart racing from the simple gesture. "I shouldn't have hidden the flint. It wasn't funny." She let the stick she'd picked up roll out of her hand.
"It will be once we look back on all this."
"I dunno, I'm kind of having fun right now," Emily said, looping her hand behind Hotch's back and resting it on his shoulder. "It's like we're camping."
"Yeah, just like camping," Hotch said with feigned enthusiasm. "Just without food or shelter or any sort of preparedness at all except a fire."
"Oh, come on," Emily chided, "Let's just make the best out of a crappy situation."
"Yeah? How?" Hotch asked skeptically.
"You know exactly how," Emily said. She turned her head, detesting the moment where Hotch's lips left her skin, but quickly remedying that feeling of emptiness by replacing her cheek with her ever ready mouth. She was somewhat surprised that he didn't come into the kiss with hesitance-no, he accepted her quite forthrightly. She felt and heard his gratified sigh right before she flitted her tongue between his parted lips. She was going to pull it right back out, tease Hotch a little, but he latched on with his teeth. Emily felt Hotch's wide, forceful hand at the nape of her neck, pulling her in deeper, while needy lips and tongue quickly took the reins.
Emily was finally getting what she thought she wanted-physical attention from Hotch, and in front of a now roaring fire, to boot. In the middle of the woods. Alone. She had a hard time imagining what could bring more carnal pleasures than this. His hands were all over her.
She'd thought it would be all she needed, just to feel him close again, to be crushed by him, but suddenly the feeling overcame her that this moment was just like another one of her conjugal visits to his office but set against a different backdrop. She sensed he was moving to pull one of her legs over to his other side, make her straddle him, so she did it for him as he turned sideways against the fire. But then she pulled rather abruptly out of the kiss.
Hotch moaned a little at the separation. "What's wrong?" His hands rubbed along the tops of Emily's thighs. Slowly but unhappily, he peeled his eyes open to meet Emily's piercing gaze, her eyes flashing in the firelight.
"Nothing," she lied reflexively.
"Right, I believe that. Come on, spit it out." He moved a palm to her cheek and stroked her skin with his thumb, dirtied from handling the firewood. "You can talk to me."
"Can I?" Emily dropped her eyes and toyed with the hem of Hotch's fleece while the fire crackled next to them, the pops being just about the only sounds around them.
"Of course."
"I don't…" Emily stopped, shook her head, and threw her head back. "Ugh."
"Just say it."
"I don't know if this is enough for me anymore. There. I said it."
So that was it. Emily had been plagued by the same longing as Hotch. Maybe this could work, he thought. His first reaction was to reject her, though. Something in him couldn't let things be that easy. He was like a woman, always needing to complicate things.
"Emily, I haven't…" This was not going as either had hoped. Both of them were staring off into space, both refusing to make eye contact. "…I haven't been in a relationship in a long time."
Emily nodded, afraid she'd said too much. She hoped if Hotch was going to reject her, he'd get it over with.
"I'm not really boyfriend material," Hotch said with a shrug.
Emily wasn't going to let him get away with that one, though. "So what? You're not allowed to decide if some flaw you might have is enough for me to stay away." Now Emily looked Hotch straight in the eye. "That's my choice. The only choice you get to make in this is whether you want more than to screw me on top of your desk."
Hotch soon began to smile. "You have to admit, that part's really nice."
Emily punched Hotch gently in the stomach and her laughter rang out through the air. She knew from his last statement that she'd reeled him in, so she didn't continue to argue with him.
"It is nice," she said in a sultry voice, closing in on him again. "All I'm saying is I'm ready for more than screwing."
Hotch soon tasted Emily's breath, their lips within kissing distance again. "I want to give you more."
"Then give me more." Emily purposely left her lips dangling right in front of Hotch's, her nose resting against the side of his, wanting him to make the next move.
Hotch wanted to close the centimeter between them, but wasn't sure if that was what he was supposed to do. "Tell me what you want."
"You can start by kissing me already."
Hotch smiled and finally allowed their lips to touch again. He took a much gentler approach this time, not letting his hands tangle in her hair or letting himself shove his tongue down her throat. No, he treated it like the first. He didn't keep with any one thing for too long; rather he mixed the nibbling, sighing, sucking, and the rolls of his tongue across hers in an unpredictable manner that he knew Emily absolutely loved.
Emily immediately warmed up to this, running her hands from Hotch's waist, up his stomach, past his hard chest, and to his shoulders, where she squeezed him appreciatively. Despite what she thought to be the appropriate level of intimacy in the atmosphere, she could feel from where she sat that Hotch was thinking a step or two ahead. They both laughed into each other's mouths at the same time.
"Sorry," Hotch breathed, catching Emily's lip again and trying to reengage her. "I guess my body only knows how to react one way around you. I'll need to train that out."
"It's okay," Emily said after a moment's pause. "We can."
"You said you wanted more than screwing." Hotch was confused.
"Aaron Hotchner," Emily reproved. "You don't have to screw me. There are other ways to please a woman. Just make love to me." Emily slid out of Hotch's lap and got up to get more firewood from the pile. Hotch was right behind her in no time. Before she could reach down and grab a branch Hotch had snapped in half earlier, a set of strong but composed arms wrapped around her waist. "Relax, I'm not going anywhere," she said. "I just want to get this fire nice…" She plucked Hotch's hand from her stomach and crouched down to feed the hungry flames. "…and big…Can you hand me that other big piece of wood?" she said with a pornographic tone, suppressing a snort she knew Hotch would have found adorable, but that would have completely killed the mood. Not that her relentless wood jokes were upping the romance quotient.
Instead of handing the other half of the branch off to Emily, Hotch sneaked around her and placed it himself, letting the fire latch onto it.
"Good," Emily said. "Once we start, I don't want to have to stop."
"We have a good hour out of all that wood," Hotch mumbled into Emily's neck, chest to chest with her now.
Emily's laugh came out more of a moan as Hotch sucked on the hollow of her throat. His hands went over his own back and were about to remove his pullover when Emily stopped him.
"If there's one thing I've wanted to do all day, it's peel this thing off of you," Emily said. "Let me."
...
Hotch let Emily roll the sweatshirt off of him from the bottom. While he desperately wanted to see it on her, he could think of something else he'd rather see her wearing. Toward that end, he took her lips captive while he undid the top button of her blouse.
"Mm-mm," Emily hummed against Hotch's lips, then pulling back, rubbing her hands against the cotton t-shirt that still covered his chest. "No, no, down here." Emily took Hotch's hand and led him to the ground. Before lying on her back, she laid out Hotch's sweatshirt and rested her hips on it.
Still kneeling, Hotch watched as the utter beauty he'd seem so many times magnify tenfold. He'd never really taken a minute to appreciate the sight before him before ripping away clothing and going in for the kill.
"What?" Emily asked once the silence became unbearable.
Hotch's eyes met Emily's before he said, "Just appreciating things." He peeled off his t-shirt slowly to let Emily know he wasn't upping the pace, wasn't changing the mood, and wanted to be more vulnerable than she was for a change. It was always her completely nude, crushed up against a wall or lying spread eagle on his desk while he usually called the shots. Before he lowered himself on top of her, he bunched up his t-shirt and tucked it under her head.
"This is how you make love to a woman, or at least how you start things out," Emily said with a contented smile.
"I know how to," Hotch said, but not defensively, rather with an apologetic grin before touching his lips to Emily's forehead. "I just never knew it was what we needed."
"We?" Emily saw Hotch's eyes flicker with the reflection of the flames for only a second before gentle, patient lips brushed against hers.
Hotch pulled away long enough to say, "We."
As their timid kissing deepened into something much more fervid, crazed, one by one Hotch undid the buttons on Emily's blouse. This time she didn't stop him. She more than happily let his lips dance along her collarbone once she was exposed to him.
To Emily's chagrin, Hotch soon left her lying bare, alone, again. She propped herself up on her elbows, wincing at a pebble underneath one of them, to see Hotch untying his boots, then moving to do the same to hers. He kicked his own off, peeled off his socks, and gave the same treatment to Emily. She undid her own fly, lifted her own hips, and shimmied her own pants and panties down in one motion, letting Hotch pull them from her ankles. Hotch at first seemed disappointed that Emily was turning the tables a bit, but the resulting, nearly nude vision before him set flames of desire coursing through every part of him. Every part.
Still wanting Emily to feel safe, at ease, Hotch stood up and stepped out of his pants and boxers, leaving himself completely naked, totally vulnerable. He was holding on as well as he could as far as things below the waist went, but once he lay parallel to Emily's body again, once every part of her body came in contact with its counterpart on his, he stiffened against her.
Emily uttered one little moan before joining Hotch in a much-missed kiss, her arms slithering underneath his arms and to his rigid back. A warm, rough hand slipped between her thighs. Thinking she knew what he was going for, she slid down underneath him a little more while gradually spreading her thighs. She awaited him to fill her up, to send her mind reeling into another dimension, and she dripped like mad for him. But Hotch flattened a hand against Emily's inner thigh instead, and that hand traveled further and further up until it reached her aching center. The momentary falter in the kiss corresponded with the entrance of Hotch's fingers deep within Emily's core. Her thighs trembled and locked in around Hotch, who eagerly awaited the moment when something else would be rubbing up and down Emily's warm, slick walls, pulling her inside out.
Emily was the first to really break the kiss, letting her head loll to the side while Hotch's deft fingers worked her most intimate area. Hotch took this opportunity to ask, "Are you warm enough?"
Emily half-laughed, half-moaned, because Hotch's fingers didn't skip a beat when he spoke. "Yeah," she managed right before his thumb danced across the top of her keen nub. "Huhhh."
"Yeah?" Hotch smiled. "You like that, don't you?" His supporting arm was starting to shake underneath him, and he wasn't sure if he could finish her off in this position.
"You're shaking," Emily noted conveniently. As much as she thought it might be the end of her, she pulled Hotch's working hand from between her thighs and placed it on the other side of her head.
"I wanted to-"
"I want you inside of me," Emily whispered before clutching Hotch's lips with her own. It took a minute of kissing to convince Hotch that Emily really was ready, wasn't rushing things just for him. And for the first time, he entered her with care, precious care, treating her like a fragile little china doll. She let go of his lips to hiss her appreciation at his breadth stretching her fully, then went back to pleading admission into his mouth again. The hard ground beneath her made her bones ache, and she was sure Hotch's knees weren't too pleased, but there were more important things that kept her mind off of the uncomfortable makeshift bed. At least the soft fleece rubbed up against her, and knowing Hotch had been wearing it minutes ago was enough to make her forget about the twigs underneath her.
Hotch delighted not only in the feeling of wet heat engulfing every inch of him, but also in the way Emily couldn't decide whether to clench her thighs around him or open wider. She seemed to alternate, squeezing him reflexively as he penetrated and filled her to the brim with ecstasy, then easing up when he withdrew, as if imploring him to come back in. He wanted to give her more, wanted to knead the breasts the swelled against his chest, wanted to take his mouth to a stiff nipple, take her that much closer, but somehow this was perfect.
Hotch was pleasantly surprised to find that he was able to last much longer for Emily at this steady, careful pace. Fingernails scratched at his back, though, Emily's painful little sign that she was reaching her point of no return. Ready more than anything to join her, Hotch picked things up a bit, but still refrained from reaching the frantic pace that usually sent them crying out and struggling to remain conscious.
"Aaron," Emily whimpered nearly in fright.
"Em…ily…" he responded breathlessly right before his impending orgasm rudely yanked the ability to speak away from him.
Emily was blinded from the moment she teetered on the edge of insanity, feeling and hearing Hotch grunt his arrival, until her walls (and her thighs) squeezed him mercilessly. They had stopped kissing some time ago, and now Hotch's mouth was assaulting Emily's throat again. He sucked hard enough to mark her when he came, noting that he'd need to apologize for that later.
Hungry lips found their mates once more and didn't let go as Hotch half rolled off of Emily, lying on his side. Emily could sense Hotch cringing at the not-so-friendly ground covering. "I think we're going to need to get dressed again, as nice and toasty as it is lying by the fire," Emily said, disappointed.
"Agreed." Hotch was eager to get covered up again, only so he could lie on the ground comfortably with Emily, who took quickly to the task getting dressed as well.
Emily's sore backside begged her to remain standing for a bit, so, once clothed again, she picked up her stick from earlier and stoked the fire. Strong but composed arms wrapped around her waist from behind while she traced patterns in the dirt and ashes. "I'm not even going to ask you if that was what we needed," Hotch mumbled into Emily's tousled hair, "because I know it was."
...
The chill from the calming of the flames roused Emily from her surprisingly deep sleep. Hotch's arms were tangled around hers from behind, bare, as he had donated his pullover to the cause of keeping them clean and a little more comfortable. Uncovered arms hadn't been bothersome at all while the fire had still roared, but now that only the embers glowed, she found herself shivering. She gingerly removed Hotch's arms from around her. Apparently he was in a deep enough sleep not to notice. Emily got up and got the fire going again. She had no idea what time it was, but the only light still came from the stars that littered the black sky and the fire that was again active.
"What're you doing up?" Hotch grumbled from behind Emily. She started, not having heard him get up from the ground.
"You scared the hell out of me," she scolded him.
He chuckled. "Sorry." He moaned into her neck and sneaked his arms up the front of her blouse.
"What, once wasn't enough? Emily said, giggling when Hotch's fingers tickled her right below her ribcage.
"With you? Never." Taking Emily's non-objection as permission, Hotch slid his hands as far up Emily's shirt as they would go until the shirt slid up her torso with them. He edged his body right up behind Emily.
"Wow, someone's definitely ready to go again," Emily remarked. She reached blind arms behind her and caught Hotch's neck with her hands.
"Just morning wood," Hotch explained. "But we could take advantage of it if you want." He didn't wait for a response, moving his mouth up to her earlobe and nibbling affectionately while he unbuttoned her shirt.
"You were a good boy earlier," Emily reasoned. "I suppose since it's still dark and the fire's going again, we could fool around again…"
"Oh, so it's fooling around instead of making love this time?" Hotch said.
"Like I said, you were a good boy." At this, Hotch's fingers made quick work of finishing off the buttons and not so subtly slipping the shirt off between them. "We can do things your way."
"My way is however you want it," Hotch said, realizing the message he was sending and stopping his hand from traveling to Emily's fly.
"I want it however you want it," Emily said. "I want this to be good for you."
"It was good for me earlier. Really good."
"Yes, but I know what you really want right now." Hotch grew remarkably harder once Emily separated herself from him and stripped down completely on her own. "Well?" she asked, watching Hotch just stand there, mouth slightly agape. She stepped closer to the fire, warming her bare ass. She couldn't exactly call it pleasant, standing naked out in the cold.
Hotch lost every stitch of clothing twice as fast as Emily had. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to be completely naked, or why Emily had felt the same need, but he wasn't about to put anything back on.
Emily sauntered over to a three-foot-wide tree trunk a couple yards away from the fire. "Well, come on," she said, laughing. "It's kind of freezing over here."
"What are you-" Hotch's breath caught in his throat as Emily bent her body at a right angle, offering everything from the hips on down to him. "Are you trying to completely untrain me?" he joked, immediately taking position behind her.
"Eh, it's worth it. I'm kind of enjoying this alrea-oh!" Emily's stomach sucked itself in at the feel of two fingers slipping between her folds. "Mmm…Have I ever told you how much I love your fingers?"
"Pretty much every time I use them," Hotch said smoothly as he drew a spiral around her clit, closing in on it. "But I don't mind hearing it over-and over-and over-again," he said, flicking a finger over the very tip of her slick nub at each pause. The way her knees gave out a little on the last flick made him laugh. "If you can't handle my itty bitty fingers…" he teased.
"Oh, just fuck me," Emily demanded.
"Whoa!" Hotch's laughter rang out shrilly into the air. He swore he heard a bird flit away to another tree. "You sure?"
Hotch's fingers were still inside Emily's wet pussy, but he was ignoring her clit. She could feel herself just dripping all over him. Hands braced on the tree, Emily backed up into Hotch's finger, causing it to make contact with her eager clit one more time.
Hotch tried not to laugh again. "What's gotten into you?" he asked with the utmost curiosity as he withdrew his fingers and slipped them between his lips. He made sure to suck on them audibly so Emily, whose head was barely higher than her hips and whose hair hung down the side of her face in a black curtain, could hear him.
"Just something about the possibility of getting caught? I don't know. But come on, seriously, stop fooling around." She wiggled her ample ass at him.
"Yes, ma'am." Hotch pumped his fist over his long, broad member a couple of times before widening his stance and taking his final position. She whimpered the second the head of his glorious cock teased at her opening. One hand held his length steady before penetration while the other rested pleasantly on the small of her back.
"Freezing here," Emily reminded Hotch.
"Also extremely horny, right?"
"Affirmative." Emily tried to back up and take charge of the situation again, but the firm, wide hand on her back stopped her. She whined when Hotch reversed what little progress he had mad, but then cried out when he filled her up in one enthusiastic thrust. "Mmm, Hotch." The feeling of stretching out around him, of his rigid length sitting snug inside of her, caused her knees to buckle again.
Supportive hands grasped her hips, holding her steady as he backed out and forced himself hastily back inside.
This felt like an entirely new sensation to Emily. She'd been in this exact position before, except with a desk or the arm of a couch underneath her, but this was somehow completely different. The only thing she could see was the patchy grass beneath her feet. Her hair fell all around her face-she couldn't even see the tree bark her hands pushed against, digging into them. And even if she'd had a view of anything else, it was too dark to see much of anything anyway, even with the fire. Maybe it was the isolation of the senses. With not much to look at, and with the pressing silence around them, all that she really had to pay attention to was how she swallowed him whole, and how every time he pulled out, she felt like she was being turned inside out, and how every time he thrust himself back in, she felt the heat cascade through her entire body. And the slight pain that resulted from her breasts hanging freely and being bounced to and fro.
New sounds were introduced soon enough, but instead of robbing Emily of the intense new pleasure provided by only her sense of touch being stimulated, the sounds just made her legs to give out completely underneath her. The smacking of his balls against her sensitive flesh, the frantic pants slipping from between his most likely bared teeth.
As Emily's walls still hugged him tightly every time he drove into her, Hotch felt his mind reel, felt a deep tickling in his belly that warned him he didn't have much longer.
"How're you doing?" he asked quickly between breaths.
Emily's voice faltered at one particularly violent thrust. "Race you," she breathed.
"Then I'm not helping you," Hotch answered, digging his nails into Emily's flesh.
"I don't need-" Emily gasped as she crossed the wonderful line between being able to speak and not even being able to think. The fire licked her insides, spreading in every direction.
"What if I just-" Hotch left his cock sitting still inside of her, as much as he feared it might kill him, just to get a reaction out of her.
"Not funny," Emily said, pulling her hips forward and rearing back up onto Hotch again.
"Just kidding." Hotch took half a step out on each side, squeezed Emily at her hip bones, and resumed his increasingly frantic rhythm. "Almost there," he reported.
A series of tiny cries issued from Emily's lips, growing louder and louder. "There," she managed before what little sight she had left was stolen from her. She clenched her useless eyes shut and focused all her energy on drawing out the earth-shattering orgasm. She swore a second one might have started in when a long, low growl sounded from behind her.
The walls closed in around Hotch in waves that washed him over the edge completely. "Yeah," he hissed as he came. He slowed his own hips down as he became aware that his heart was pounding so loudly he couldn't hear what Emily was saying.
"What's that?" he panted, finally releasing his desperate grasp on Emily's hips and pulling himself free.
"I said, 'I think we should get dressed now,'" Emily said.
"What, I can't enjoy-"
"Hotch, I'm not joking. I see flashlights. A few hundred yards out. Hurry, before they see us."
Hotch flew back over to their pile of clothing, trying to find Emily's panties and bra first and flinging them over to her once he did. His fingers trembled, partly from the residual pleasure but partly from sheer terror. His uncooperative extremities made it difficult to get dressed. Finally, though, he threw on his dirtied pullover and checked on Emily's progress. She was just tying her shoe.
"Am I missing anything?" she asked. Hotch gave her a once-over in the firelight that was growing stronger.
"Your collar's tucked in on one side." Hotch fixed it for her. "Me?"
"You have leaves all over your shirt," she said, laughing quietly. She walked around him, brushing debris from him. "There, that's better."
"That was a close call," Hotch said, still panting. The flashlights were still far enough off in the distance that he knew they wouldn't be heard.
"We should really consider having sex someplace we're actually supposed to have sex, you know."
"How about my place?" Hotch asked.
"Wh-your place?" Hotch could see the pleasantly surprised look on Emily's face. Her well-defined eyebrows rested high on her forehead.
"Yeah…no desk, no trees, no dirt. We could try a bed for once. What do you say?" He wanted to close in on her and kiss her, but their rescuers were drawing nearer and nearer.
"Are you asking me out, Agent Hotchner?"
"Hey, I never said we were going out first. Dinner and a movie isn't necessarily part of the deal." Hotch stepped aside to avoid the fist that went flying at his stomach. He chuckled. "If I do, will you say yes?"
A faint smile touched Emily's lips. "Maybe. Why don't you ask me and find out?" she asked from where she stood three feet away from him.
"Fine, I will. Can I take you out to dinner sometime?"
"Be more specific."
"What?"
"Tell me when, at least. Not sometime. That's not how you ask a girl out."
"Forgive me. It's been a while. What is today?" Hotch asked.
"Tuesday."
"May I take you out to dinner, say, Friday, at eight o'clock?"
"Good boy."
"Is that a yes?"
"That's a yes."
Original Posting Here
Author: hotchityhotchhotch
Rating: M
Characters/Pairings: Hotch/Emily
Summary: Sequel to "Stranded." Hotch and Emily get lost in the woods. Enough said.
"We got him," Morgan's voice sounded through Hotch's radio.
"Let's head back, Prentiss," Hotch said.
"Thank God. It's getting dark," Emily said, looking at the dense forestry around them. A couple of birds chattered up high in the trees and a small mammal-a squirrel or chipmunk-hid under a log as the intruders passed by.
"Are you afraid?" Hotch teased, a twinkle in his eye.
She rolled her eyes, jumping over a little stream of water, trying to keep her boots dry.
"Do you get scared of the dark as easily as you get cold?" Hotch kept on, wagging an eyebrow as he followed Emily over the water, his longer legs removing the necessity to jump.
"You know what, Hotch?" Emily said warningly.
"What?" he responded, unfazed, still amused with himself.
She groaned. "I thought we were going to pretend that never happened." Emily glanced around her, suddenly disoriented.
"Our weekly rendezvous in my office after everyone else is gone for the night doesn't really classify as 'pretending that never happened.'" Hotch said pointedly. "But if you want to call dirty sex on my desk 'pretending that never happened,' be my guest."
Emily grinned, turning back to Hotch to let him see. He met her grin and raised her a toothy smile. "You sure we came this way?" he asked after another minute of wandering.
"Pretty sure. I remember that tree," she said, pointing.
"How? They all look the same to me."
"That one had those giant claw marks in it. Oh, great, bears," she deadpanned. "Montana. Of course, bears. And it's summer now, so they aren't even hibernating. Okay, I'm checking the map," she said decisively.
Hotch was soon over her shoulder. As he looked on with her, he felt an urge to rest a hand on Emily's hip, but resisted it. The office sex was bad enough. Trying to disconnect his feelings for Emily from working with her proved more and more difficult every time they kissed, every time he saw her with every shred of clothing missing, every time she opened her luscious thighs for him. It had started out mostly physical, and, truth be told, hadn't officially gone beyond anything but that, but he felt himself yearning for more. The idea of loving Emily scared him though, not only because it would affect his decision-making skills as a leader even more than sleeping with her already was, but also because he hadn't been with anyone for so long. He wasn't sure if he wanted to risk messing up with her. Maybe he needed a true rebound first.
Even without an established relationship, he was starting to feel overly protective of Emily, had caught himself a couple of times sending her on less risky assignments, or pairing her up with him, like he had today. A bona fide relationship wouldn't be fair to anyone else on the team. Hell, it was already unethical.
"Shoot. I think we are going the wrong way," Emily admitted. "The sun's setting over there, so that's west. We should be going that way."
"Well, it'll probably dip down into the forties tonight. Let's not take any chances. I'll call the sheriff; he can lead us out of here."
"With what? We have no landmarks. Turn left at the tree with the branches, then keep going until you see a rock?" Emily quipped.
Hotch gave Emily a look while he took his phone out of his pocket. "Of course. No service."
"We're in the middle of the middle of nowhere, which is in the middle of the middle of nowhere. Of course there's no service. Radio him."
"Yes, and let everyone know we're lost, Hotch said.
"Hey, we aren't lost," Emily said. "We're just being proactive, calling for help before we get lost."
"Sheriff Donahue, this is Agent Hotchner. Do you read me?"
After a few seconds of nothing, Emily began to laugh, leaning her butt against a pine tree and crouching over.
"Sheriff, this is Agent Hotchner. Agent Prentiss and I need assistance. Do you copy?"
"Oh, this is just great," Emily cackled almost gleefully.
"Do you mind?" Hotch pleaded. "Anyone?" he said into the radio.
"Let's just keep walking," Emily said.
"Guess we don't have any other choice." Hotch tucked away his radio and phone and set off after Emily.
-
"Seriously?" Emily whined in despair for what must have been the twelfth time.
"You know, you saying that doesn't make this any less frustrating." Hotch shined his flashlight in front of him, waving it back and forth, leading the way through the underbrush and around the plentiful trees.
"I know, but it feels good, and it obviously annoys you." She knew Hotch was rolling his eyes in front of her. She knew a lot of things about him. That he loved to be on top. Classic alpha male behavior. She wasn't surprised. Nor did she mind. She also knew he was short-tempered when it came to failing endeavors such as this, but rarely lost his temper with her. She also knew he was thinking about more than an orgasm whenever she lay down stark naked on his desk or perched herself in his lap as he braced his office chair into place with his heels. He thought about actually being with her. This made for some nice fantasies between trysts. Nothing more than that, though. She felt off center enough given the fact that she was screwing her boss. It wasn't like her. Not at all. To date him would be…marvelous, she couldn't lie…but an awful idea. The most awful of all awful ideas.
"What time is it?" Hotch asked. "The backlight on my watch isn't working."
"Ten," Emily said. Between Hotch's question and her response, the helpful full moon disappeared behind a dense cloud, making their quest that much more difficult, even with the flashlight.
"It's getting chilly out. Are you cold?" Hotch asked, not teasing.
"Not quite yet. We're moving; that helps."
"I think we should try to build a fire," Hotch said. "We might just want to hang out till morning, stop wandering around in the dark and making things worse. Plus, maybe someone will see."
"I'm glad your compass got left behind," Emily said. "Really helpful. Have I mentioned that?"
"A time or two. I don't see yours," Hotch said.
"I don't have as much pocket space as you do."
"I saw you put Chapstick on earlier. You had room for that."
"So? A girl's gotta protect her lips. You could use some, you know. Your lips were a little rough last time."
"Again, you're pretty bad at this pretending thing," Hotch said. "This looks like a good spot. Under trees in case it rains, nice open area in between for a fire, no low-hanging branches…let's go look for some wood."
Emily snorted.
"Not that kind," Hotch added hastily, sighing.
"We're lost in the woods," Emily explained. "I'm just glad for you that we don't have a tent to pitch, because I'd be giggling every time you said that, too."
Hotch picked up a long, thick branch and brandished it weakly at Emily. "You with the mouth. Help out a little here."
"What? With finding wood?" She circled around to approach Hotch from behind and placed a hand low on his stomach, underneath his black fleece pullover. "I think I know where we can find some."
"Emily, seriously." And he was serious. Dead serious.
Emily removed her hand, walking off (but not too far) in search of firewood. She felt slightly dejected, but eventually her mind just meandered to how they were going to manage to go all Discovery Channel without getting leaves up their asses.
...
Emily watched from her seat on a nearby fallen tree as Hotch struggled to light the fire the Boy Scouts way, crouched over on the ground, his back to her. The temperature was certainly dropping, but Emily wasn't too chilly yet in her long sleeved button-down, so instead of helping Hotch out, she monitored his progress, or lack thereof, with some taunts thrown in here and there.
"Hmm, do you think you're rubbing it hard enough?" Emily said sensually.
"Not helping…"
"Maybe you should blow on it a little, Hotch."
"Not funny…"
"You always used to be able to light my fire…"
"Emily, come on…"
Emily sighed and uncrossed her legs. "Here."
"What?" Hotch asked, trying to be patient, but feeling Emily was about to make another joke at his expense.
Emily dug her keys out of her pocket. Hearing the jingling, Hotch turned and caught Emily's keys just in time. "Oh, good, I was hoping I wouldn't have to hotwire our invisible SUV."
"Now who's being a smart-ass?" Emily retorted. "There's a flint and magnesium fire starter on my key ring. Just use the-"
"I know how to use one," Hotch snapped. "I'm just wondering why you let me spend half an hour trying to do this the hard way." He turned his back to Emily once again, lowered himself to the ground, and had a small blaze going in a minute. He straightened out the teepee of firewood and watched until the flames licked the undersides and wrapped around to the top. "Thank you," he said when Emily didn't give an answer.
"Yup…" Emily walked over to their pitiful pile of firewood and grabbed a long stick. Hotch was sitting with his legs crossed in front of him now, and Emily sat down next to him, watching the growing flames tickle the air while she traced patterns in the dirt.
"Sorry I snapped," Hotch said tenderly, slipping an arm around Emily's waist. For the first time, he intimated his deeper feelings and rested his lips on her cheek, which he felt warm instantly at his kiss. His lips had kissed probably every part of her body but there.
"It's okay," Emily said, her heart racing from the simple gesture. "I shouldn't have hidden the flint. It wasn't funny." She let the stick she'd picked up roll out of her hand.
"It will be once we look back on all this."
"I dunno, I'm kind of having fun right now," Emily said, looping her hand behind Hotch's back and resting it on his shoulder. "It's like we're camping."
"Yeah, just like camping," Hotch said with feigned enthusiasm. "Just without food or shelter or any sort of preparedness at all except a fire."
"Oh, come on," Emily chided, "Let's just make the best out of a crappy situation."
"Yeah? How?" Hotch asked skeptically.
"You know exactly how," Emily said. She turned her head, detesting the moment where Hotch's lips left her skin, but quickly remedying that feeling of emptiness by replacing her cheek with her ever ready mouth. She was somewhat surprised that he didn't come into the kiss with hesitance-no, he accepted her quite forthrightly. She felt and heard his gratified sigh right before she flitted her tongue between his parted lips. She was going to pull it right back out, tease Hotch a little, but he latched on with his teeth. Emily felt Hotch's wide, forceful hand at the nape of her neck, pulling her in deeper, while needy lips and tongue quickly took the reins.
Emily was finally getting what she thought she wanted-physical attention from Hotch, and in front of a now roaring fire, to boot. In the middle of the woods. Alone. She had a hard time imagining what could bring more carnal pleasures than this. His hands were all over her.
She'd thought it would be all she needed, just to feel him close again, to be crushed by him, but suddenly the feeling overcame her that this moment was just like another one of her conjugal visits to his office but set against a different backdrop. She sensed he was moving to pull one of her legs over to his other side, make her straddle him, so she did it for him as he turned sideways against the fire. But then she pulled rather abruptly out of the kiss.
Hotch moaned a little at the separation. "What's wrong?" His hands rubbed along the tops of Emily's thighs. Slowly but unhappily, he peeled his eyes open to meet Emily's piercing gaze, her eyes flashing in the firelight.
"Nothing," she lied reflexively.
"Right, I believe that. Come on, spit it out." He moved a palm to her cheek and stroked her skin with his thumb, dirtied from handling the firewood. "You can talk to me."
"Can I?" Emily dropped her eyes and toyed with the hem of Hotch's fleece while the fire crackled next to them, the pops being just about the only sounds around them.
"Of course."
"I don't…" Emily stopped, shook her head, and threw her head back. "Ugh."
"Just say it."
"I don't know if this is enough for me anymore. There. I said it."
So that was it. Emily had been plagued by the same longing as Hotch. Maybe this could work, he thought. His first reaction was to reject her, though. Something in him couldn't let things be that easy. He was like a woman, always needing to complicate things.
"Emily, I haven't…" This was not going as either had hoped. Both of them were staring off into space, both refusing to make eye contact. "…I haven't been in a relationship in a long time."
Emily nodded, afraid she'd said too much. She hoped if Hotch was going to reject her, he'd get it over with.
"I'm not really boyfriend material," Hotch said with a shrug.
Emily wasn't going to let him get away with that one, though. "So what? You're not allowed to decide if some flaw you might have is enough for me to stay away." Now Emily looked Hotch straight in the eye. "That's my choice. The only choice you get to make in this is whether you want more than to screw me on top of your desk."
Hotch soon began to smile. "You have to admit, that part's really nice."
Emily punched Hotch gently in the stomach and her laughter rang out through the air. She knew from his last statement that she'd reeled him in, so she didn't continue to argue with him.
"It is nice," she said in a sultry voice, closing in on him again. "All I'm saying is I'm ready for more than screwing."
Hotch soon tasted Emily's breath, their lips within kissing distance again. "I want to give you more."
"Then give me more." Emily purposely left her lips dangling right in front of Hotch's, her nose resting against the side of his, wanting him to make the next move.
Hotch wanted to close the centimeter between them, but wasn't sure if that was what he was supposed to do. "Tell me what you want."
"You can start by kissing me already."
Hotch smiled and finally allowed their lips to touch again. He took a much gentler approach this time, not letting his hands tangle in her hair or letting himself shove his tongue down her throat. No, he treated it like the first. He didn't keep with any one thing for too long; rather he mixed the nibbling, sighing, sucking, and the rolls of his tongue across hers in an unpredictable manner that he knew Emily absolutely loved.
Emily immediately warmed up to this, running her hands from Hotch's waist, up his stomach, past his hard chest, and to his shoulders, where she squeezed him appreciatively. Despite what she thought to be the appropriate level of intimacy in the atmosphere, she could feel from where she sat that Hotch was thinking a step or two ahead. They both laughed into each other's mouths at the same time.
"Sorry," Hotch breathed, catching Emily's lip again and trying to reengage her. "I guess my body only knows how to react one way around you. I'll need to train that out."
"It's okay," Emily said after a moment's pause. "We can."
"You said you wanted more than screwing." Hotch was confused.
"Aaron Hotchner," Emily reproved. "You don't have to screw me. There are other ways to please a woman. Just make love to me." Emily slid out of Hotch's lap and got up to get more firewood from the pile. Hotch was right behind her in no time. Before she could reach down and grab a branch Hotch had snapped in half earlier, a set of strong but composed arms wrapped around her waist. "Relax, I'm not going anywhere," she said. "I just want to get this fire nice…" She plucked Hotch's hand from her stomach and crouched down to feed the hungry flames. "…and big…Can you hand me that other big piece of wood?" she said with a pornographic tone, suppressing a snort she knew Hotch would have found adorable, but that would have completely killed the mood. Not that her relentless wood jokes were upping the romance quotient.
Instead of handing the other half of the branch off to Emily, Hotch sneaked around her and placed it himself, letting the fire latch onto it.
"Good," Emily said. "Once we start, I don't want to have to stop."
"We have a good hour out of all that wood," Hotch mumbled into Emily's neck, chest to chest with her now.
Emily's laugh came out more of a moan as Hotch sucked on the hollow of her throat. His hands went over his own back and were about to remove his pullover when Emily stopped him.
"If there's one thing I've wanted to do all day, it's peel this thing off of you," Emily said. "Let me."
...
Hotch let Emily roll the sweatshirt off of him from the bottom. While he desperately wanted to see it on her, he could think of something else he'd rather see her wearing. Toward that end, he took her lips captive while he undid the top button of her blouse.
"Mm-mm," Emily hummed against Hotch's lips, then pulling back, rubbing her hands against the cotton t-shirt that still covered his chest. "No, no, down here." Emily took Hotch's hand and led him to the ground. Before lying on her back, she laid out Hotch's sweatshirt and rested her hips on it.
Still kneeling, Hotch watched as the utter beauty he'd seem so many times magnify tenfold. He'd never really taken a minute to appreciate the sight before him before ripping away clothing and going in for the kill.
"What?" Emily asked once the silence became unbearable.
Hotch's eyes met Emily's before he said, "Just appreciating things." He peeled off his t-shirt slowly to let Emily know he wasn't upping the pace, wasn't changing the mood, and wanted to be more vulnerable than she was for a change. It was always her completely nude, crushed up against a wall or lying spread eagle on his desk while he usually called the shots. Before he lowered himself on top of her, he bunched up his t-shirt and tucked it under her head.
"This is how you make love to a woman, or at least how you start things out," Emily said with a contented smile.
"I know how to," Hotch said, but not defensively, rather with an apologetic grin before touching his lips to Emily's forehead. "I just never knew it was what we needed."
"We?" Emily saw Hotch's eyes flicker with the reflection of the flames for only a second before gentle, patient lips brushed against hers.
Hotch pulled away long enough to say, "We."
As their timid kissing deepened into something much more fervid, crazed, one by one Hotch undid the buttons on Emily's blouse. This time she didn't stop him. She more than happily let his lips dance along her collarbone once she was exposed to him.
To Emily's chagrin, Hotch soon left her lying bare, alone, again. She propped herself up on her elbows, wincing at a pebble underneath one of them, to see Hotch untying his boots, then moving to do the same to hers. He kicked his own off, peeled off his socks, and gave the same treatment to Emily. She undid her own fly, lifted her own hips, and shimmied her own pants and panties down in one motion, letting Hotch pull them from her ankles. Hotch at first seemed disappointed that Emily was turning the tables a bit, but the resulting, nearly nude vision before him set flames of desire coursing through every part of him. Every part.
Still wanting Emily to feel safe, at ease, Hotch stood up and stepped out of his pants and boxers, leaving himself completely naked, totally vulnerable. He was holding on as well as he could as far as things below the waist went, but once he lay parallel to Emily's body again, once every part of her body came in contact with its counterpart on his, he stiffened against her.
Emily uttered one little moan before joining Hotch in a much-missed kiss, her arms slithering underneath his arms and to his rigid back. A warm, rough hand slipped between her thighs. Thinking she knew what he was going for, she slid down underneath him a little more while gradually spreading her thighs. She awaited him to fill her up, to send her mind reeling into another dimension, and she dripped like mad for him. But Hotch flattened a hand against Emily's inner thigh instead, and that hand traveled further and further up until it reached her aching center. The momentary falter in the kiss corresponded with the entrance of Hotch's fingers deep within Emily's core. Her thighs trembled and locked in around Hotch, who eagerly awaited the moment when something else would be rubbing up and down Emily's warm, slick walls, pulling her inside out.
Emily was the first to really break the kiss, letting her head loll to the side while Hotch's deft fingers worked her most intimate area. Hotch took this opportunity to ask, "Are you warm enough?"
Emily half-laughed, half-moaned, because Hotch's fingers didn't skip a beat when he spoke. "Yeah," she managed right before his thumb danced across the top of her keen nub. "Huhhh."
"Yeah?" Hotch smiled. "You like that, don't you?" His supporting arm was starting to shake underneath him, and he wasn't sure if he could finish her off in this position.
"You're shaking," Emily noted conveniently. As much as she thought it might be the end of her, she pulled Hotch's working hand from between her thighs and placed it on the other side of her head.
"I wanted to-"
"I want you inside of me," Emily whispered before clutching Hotch's lips with her own. It took a minute of kissing to convince Hotch that Emily really was ready, wasn't rushing things just for him. And for the first time, he entered her with care, precious care, treating her like a fragile little china doll. She let go of his lips to hiss her appreciation at his breadth stretching her fully, then went back to pleading admission into his mouth again. The hard ground beneath her made her bones ache, and she was sure Hotch's knees weren't too pleased, but there were more important things that kept her mind off of the uncomfortable makeshift bed. At least the soft fleece rubbed up against her, and knowing Hotch had been wearing it minutes ago was enough to make her forget about the twigs underneath her.
Hotch delighted not only in the feeling of wet heat engulfing every inch of him, but also in the way Emily couldn't decide whether to clench her thighs around him or open wider. She seemed to alternate, squeezing him reflexively as he penetrated and filled her to the brim with ecstasy, then easing up when he withdrew, as if imploring him to come back in. He wanted to give her more, wanted to knead the breasts the swelled against his chest, wanted to take his mouth to a stiff nipple, take her that much closer, but somehow this was perfect.
Hotch was pleasantly surprised to find that he was able to last much longer for Emily at this steady, careful pace. Fingernails scratched at his back, though, Emily's painful little sign that she was reaching her point of no return. Ready more than anything to join her, Hotch picked things up a bit, but still refrained from reaching the frantic pace that usually sent them crying out and struggling to remain conscious.
"Aaron," Emily whimpered nearly in fright.
"Em…ily…" he responded breathlessly right before his impending orgasm rudely yanked the ability to speak away from him.
Emily was blinded from the moment she teetered on the edge of insanity, feeling and hearing Hotch grunt his arrival, until her walls (and her thighs) squeezed him mercilessly. They had stopped kissing some time ago, and now Hotch's mouth was assaulting Emily's throat again. He sucked hard enough to mark her when he came, noting that he'd need to apologize for that later.
Hungry lips found their mates once more and didn't let go as Hotch half rolled off of Emily, lying on his side. Emily could sense Hotch cringing at the not-so-friendly ground covering. "I think we're going to need to get dressed again, as nice and toasty as it is lying by the fire," Emily said, disappointed.
"Agreed." Hotch was eager to get covered up again, only so he could lie on the ground comfortably with Emily, who took quickly to the task getting dressed as well.
Emily's sore backside begged her to remain standing for a bit, so, once clothed again, she picked up her stick from earlier and stoked the fire. Strong but composed arms wrapped around her waist from behind while she traced patterns in the dirt and ashes. "I'm not even going to ask you if that was what we needed," Hotch mumbled into Emily's tousled hair, "because I know it was."
...
The chill from the calming of the flames roused Emily from her surprisingly deep sleep. Hotch's arms were tangled around hers from behind, bare, as he had donated his pullover to the cause of keeping them clean and a little more comfortable. Uncovered arms hadn't been bothersome at all while the fire had still roared, but now that only the embers glowed, she found herself shivering. She gingerly removed Hotch's arms from around her. Apparently he was in a deep enough sleep not to notice. Emily got up and got the fire going again. She had no idea what time it was, but the only light still came from the stars that littered the black sky and the fire that was again active.
"What're you doing up?" Hotch grumbled from behind Emily. She started, not having heard him get up from the ground.
"You scared the hell out of me," she scolded him.
He chuckled. "Sorry." He moaned into her neck and sneaked his arms up the front of her blouse.
"What, once wasn't enough? Emily said, giggling when Hotch's fingers tickled her right below her ribcage.
"With you? Never." Taking Emily's non-objection as permission, Hotch slid his hands as far up Emily's shirt as they would go until the shirt slid up her torso with them. He edged his body right up behind Emily.
"Wow, someone's definitely ready to go again," Emily remarked. She reached blind arms behind her and caught Hotch's neck with her hands.
"Just morning wood," Hotch explained. "But we could take advantage of it if you want." He didn't wait for a response, moving his mouth up to her earlobe and nibbling affectionately while he unbuttoned her shirt.
"You were a good boy earlier," Emily reasoned. "I suppose since it's still dark and the fire's going again, we could fool around again…"
"Oh, so it's fooling around instead of making love this time?" Hotch said.
"Like I said, you were a good boy." At this, Hotch's fingers made quick work of finishing off the buttons and not so subtly slipping the shirt off between them. "We can do things your way."
"My way is however you want it," Hotch said, realizing the message he was sending and stopping his hand from traveling to Emily's fly.
"I want it however you want it," Emily said. "I want this to be good for you."
"It was good for me earlier. Really good."
"Yes, but I know what you really want right now." Hotch grew remarkably harder once Emily separated herself from him and stripped down completely on her own. "Well?" she asked, watching Hotch just stand there, mouth slightly agape. She stepped closer to the fire, warming her bare ass. She couldn't exactly call it pleasant, standing naked out in the cold.
Hotch lost every stitch of clothing twice as fast as Emily had. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to be completely naked, or why Emily had felt the same need, but he wasn't about to put anything back on.
Emily sauntered over to a three-foot-wide tree trunk a couple yards away from the fire. "Well, come on," she said, laughing. "It's kind of freezing over here."
"What are you-" Hotch's breath caught in his throat as Emily bent her body at a right angle, offering everything from the hips on down to him. "Are you trying to completely untrain me?" he joked, immediately taking position behind her.
"Eh, it's worth it. I'm kind of enjoying this alrea-oh!" Emily's stomach sucked itself in at the feel of two fingers slipping between her folds. "Mmm…Have I ever told you how much I love your fingers?"
"Pretty much every time I use them," Hotch said smoothly as he drew a spiral around her clit, closing in on it. "But I don't mind hearing it over-and over-and over-again," he said, flicking a finger over the very tip of her slick nub at each pause. The way her knees gave out a little on the last flick made him laugh. "If you can't handle my itty bitty fingers…" he teased.
"Oh, just fuck me," Emily demanded.
"Whoa!" Hotch's laughter rang out shrilly into the air. He swore he heard a bird flit away to another tree. "You sure?"
Hotch's fingers were still inside Emily's wet pussy, but he was ignoring her clit. She could feel herself just dripping all over him. Hands braced on the tree, Emily backed up into Hotch's finger, causing it to make contact with her eager clit one more time.
Hotch tried not to laugh again. "What's gotten into you?" he asked with the utmost curiosity as he withdrew his fingers and slipped them between his lips. He made sure to suck on them audibly so Emily, whose head was barely higher than her hips and whose hair hung down the side of her face in a black curtain, could hear him.
"Just something about the possibility of getting caught? I don't know. But come on, seriously, stop fooling around." She wiggled her ample ass at him.
"Yes, ma'am." Hotch pumped his fist over his long, broad member a couple of times before widening his stance and taking his final position. She whimpered the second the head of his glorious cock teased at her opening. One hand held his length steady before penetration while the other rested pleasantly on the small of her back.
"Freezing here," Emily reminded Hotch.
"Also extremely horny, right?"
"Affirmative." Emily tried to back up and take charge of the situation again, but the firm, wide hand on her back stopped her. She whined when Hotch reversed what little progress he had mad, but then cried out when he filled her up in one enthusiastic thrust. "Mmm, Hotch." The feeling of stretching out around him, of his rigid length sitting snug inside of her, caused her knees to buckle again.
Supportive hands grasped her hips, holding her steady as he backed out and forced himself hastily back inside.
This felt like an entirely new sensation to Emily. She'd been in this exact position before, except with a desk or the arm of a couch underneath her, but this was somehow completely different. The only thing she could see was the patchy grass beneath her feet. Her hair fell all around her face-she couldn't even see the tree bark her hands pushed against, digging into them. And even if she'd had a view of anything else, it was too dark to see much of anything anyway, even with the fire. Maybe it was the isolation of the senses. With not much to look at, and with the pressing silence around them, all that she really had to pay attention to was how she swallowed him whole, and how every time he pulled out, she felt like she was being turned inside out, and how every time he thrust himself back in, she felt the heat cascade through her entire body. And the slight pain that resulted from her breasts hanging freely and being bounced to and fro.
New sounds were introduced soon enough, but instead of robbing Emily of the intense new pleasure provided by only her sense of touch being stimulated, the sounds just made her legs to give out completely underneath her. The smacking of his balls against her sensitive flesh, the frantic pants slipping from between his most likely bared teeth.
As Emily's walls still hugged him tightly every time he drove into her, Hotch felt his mind reel, felt a deep tickling in his belly that warned him he didn't have much longer.
"How're you doing?" he asked quickly between breaths.
Emily's voice faltered at one particularly violent thrust. "Race you," she breathed.
"Then I'm not helping you," Hotch answered, digging his nails into Emily's flesh.
"I don't need-" Emily gasped as she crossed the wonderful line between being able to speak and not even being able to think. The fire licked her insides, spreading in every direction.
"What if I just-" Hotch left his cock sitting still inside of her, as much as he feared it might kill him, just to get a reaction out of her.
"Not funny," Emily said, pulling her hips forward and rearing back up onto Hotch again.
"Just kidding." Hotch took half a step out on each side, squeezed Emily at her hip bones, and resumed his increasingly frantic rhythm. "Almost there," he reported.
A series of tiny cries issued from Emily's lips, growing louder and louder. "There," she managed before what little sight she had left was stolen from her. She clenched her useless eyes shut and focused all her energy on drawing out the earth-shattering orgasm. She swore a second one might have started in when a long, low growl sounded from behind her.
The walls closed in around Hotch in waves that washed him over the edge completely. "Yeah," he hissed as he came. He slowed his own hips down as he became aware that his heart was pounding so loudly he couldn't hear what Emily was saying.
"What's that?" he panted, finally releasing his desperate grasp on Emily's hips and pulling himself free.
"I said, 'I think we should get dressed now,'" Emily said.
"What, I can't enjoy-"
"Hotch, I'm not joking. I see flashlights. A few hundred yards out. Hurry, before they see us."
Hotch flew back over to their pile of clothing, trying to find Emily's panties and bra first and flinging them over to her once he did. His fingers trembled, partly from the residual pleasure but partly from sheer terror. His uncooperative extremities made it difficult to get dressed. Finally, though, he threw on his dirtied pullover and checked on Emily's progress. She was just tying her shoe.
"Am I missing anything?" she asked. Hotch gave her a once-over in the firelight that was growing stronger.
"Your collar's tucked in on one side." Hotch fixed it for her. "Me?"
"You have leaves all over your shirt," she said, laughing quietly. She walked around him, brushing debris from him. "There, that's better."
"That was a close call," Hotch said, still panting. The flashlights were still far enough off in the distance that he knew they wouldn't be heard.
"We should really consider having sex someplace we're actually supposed to have sex, you know."
"How about my place?" Hotch asked.
"Wh-your place?" Hotch could see the pleasantly surprised look on Emily's face. Her well-defined eyebrows rested high on her forehead.
"Yeah…no desk, no trees, no dirt. We could try a bed for once. What do you say?" He wanted to close in on her and kiss her, but their rescuers were drawing nearer and nearer.
"Are you asking me out, Agent Hotchner?"
"Hey, I never said we were going out first. Dinner and a movie isn't necessarily part of the deal." Hotch stepped aside to avoid the fist that went flying at his stomach. He chuckled. "If I do, will you say yes?"
A faint smile touched Emily's lips. "Maybe. Why don't you ask me and find out?" she asked from where she stood three feet away from him.
"Fine, I will. Can I take you out to dinner sometime?"
"Be more specific."
"What?"
"Tell me when, at least. Not sometime. That's not how you ask a girl out."
"Forgive me. It's been a while. What is today?" Hotch asked.
"Tuesday."
"May I take you out to dinner, say, Friday, at eight o'clock?"
"Good boy."
"Is that a yes?"
"That's a yes."
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