DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything associated with the show… I just like playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!
RATING: M-Mature (for adult sexual content)
PAIRINGS: GSR
SPOILERS: Season 7 – Post "Living Doll"
SUMMARY: Grissom struggles with the fallout from Sara's abduction. GSR Angst/Smut
A/N: I know I swore there wouldn't be any angst from me this summer, but this little demonic plot bunny took over my soul for the last week and wouldn't let me write anything else. However, in order to keep my promise, there is smut at the end, so all is right in the world again.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: This little piece marks the triumphant return of "Smut Beta!" Without her encouragement, and perhaps even a little screaming at me to hurry up and finish before I killed her with the angst and suspense, this would never have been written. And my apologies go out to my regular beta, who unfortunately had to leave town before I was able to finish, so she has a whole other week before she can find out what happened.
REVIEWS: Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.
In the moments immediately following his first sight of her in the hospital, after a lengthy search and rescue, Gil vowed that he would put every ounce of his energy into helping Sara overcome the harrowing ordeal. She had been abducted, drugged, seriously injured, and left to die beneath the twisted wreckage of a car in the middle of the desert. He made the conscious determination that his own demons from the experience paled in comparison to what Sara would be facing, with the reasoning that he could deal with them later, on his own.
If only his heart and his subconscious agreed with that decision.
He found himself constantly needing to know where she was, at all times. When they were anywhere near each other, he felt compelled to touch her, even in small ways. He simply needed physical proof that she was indeed safe. But perhaps the worst side effect of his own demons' demand for his attention was the night terrors.
Nightmares had long been a part of his life, but these were a new wrinkle to his psyche's response to pressure. He found himself lost in the horrific images of Sara being tortured, beaten, grasping for survival out in the desert, fighting off vultures, barely struggling to breathe and then, when he had watched the life drain from her pained features, he would wake with his heart pounding in his chest and his arms reaching out for her in the darkness. It was frightening and draining, but if he could just get his arms around her, feel her body in his embrace, then his mind could accept that the dream really was just a dream.
After a particularly bad episode, he finally came to understand that there was a very real need for him to deal with his demons, and it was abundantly apparent that he was not qualified to do it on his own. He called his old friend and department psychiatrist Phillip Kane before going to work the next day. It was quite possibly the hardest thing he had ever done in his life; far more than giving in to his feelings for Sara. Gil Grissom was forced to admit that he was not capable of figuring out a puzzle on his own.
It had only been two weeks, but he quickly learned that Phillip was an equally talented puzzle master, because he managed to foil each of his attempts at vague answers and non-answers to the questions in their sessions. When Phillip called him on his techniques of evasion, he realized that his entire nature had become about avoiding the real issues in his own life. He finally understood why Sara would get so frustrated with him over the course of their bizarre, push-me-pull-you relationship. Gil also began to wonder if, while trying to keep the focus off of himself, he really had given Sara reasons to doubt the sincerity of his feelings for her.
His subconscious chose that little realization to taunt him with on this occasion. He was trapped in a reality where every word he uttered pushed Sara further and further away from him. When he looked across the plain of the dream, he could see the faces of the many people who had hurt Sara over the years, and his words were forcing her into their grasps. The moment he was able to make out the cherubic and intensely insane face of her abductor, he woke from the dream with his heart beating so fiercely within his chest that he was certain it would burst, but when he reached out for her, he found an empty bed.
The sheets were cool to the touch and instantly his mind began to scream at him to get out of the bed and find her. He tried to calm himself by taking a deep breath, and then he listened to the sounds in the house. When his ears failed to pick up a single sound, he was unable to stay in the bed any longer.
He grabbed the sweatshirt from the back of the chair at the vanity as he made a beeline for the door to their bathroom. Upon determining she was not in there, his mind began to play out a thousand different scenarios; she was getting something to eat, she was unable to sleep and went to read, she had an idea for the paper she was working on, she had gotten tired of him and left, she was killed by one of the countless people wishing him or her harm. It only took a fraction of a second before his mind spiraled completely out of control down a very dark path.
He tried the office, the living room, the kitchen, all with no luck and the panic overtook him. His heart rate increased as he checked the closet, but her coats and jackets were undisturbed. Forgetting that Bruno was still soundly asleep at the foot of the bed, he looked for the leash by the front door, but instantly found it on the hook.
The next step would be the garage. Sara had not driven since the attack, but he thought that perhaps she might have been trying to work through that fear, just as she had done with everything else. As he reached his hand out for the knob, his eyes caught a glimpse of ivory skin through the patio doors. He craned his neck around the corner to verify that his eyes were not deceiving him, and was relieved to find the rest of the arm that the skin belonged to through the glass.
Trying to calm his galloping pulse as he walked to the patio doors, Gil took several deep breaths. He waited a moment, with his hand on the door, willing his heart to stop pounding out a tribal rhythm in his chest and ears. Finally, his need for physical proof of her well-being took over and he slid the door open.
"Sara?" She strengthened her grip around her bare legs as she sat atop the lounge chair on the patio, and that was when he noticed what she had on; a tank top and her panties. The pre-dawn hours in Las Vegas were downright chilly, and his protective nature immediately kicked in when he asked, "What on earth are you doing out here at this time of night?"
At first, she remained stiffly silent, but then she leaned into her clasped legs a little more and softly answered, "Just getting some air."
"But where's your robe? You must be freezing out here." As he stood there in his shorts and sweatshirt, the goosebumps were already rising on his legs, so he could only imagine how cold she must have been. Gil looked around the patio in vain, trying to find something to put over her. Finally, his gaze fell on the sweatshirt he wore. "You can't stay out here dressed like that." He reached for the hem of the shirt and was about to raise it up when Sara turned and laid her head down on her knees.
"I'm fine." There was absolutely no emotion in her voice as she spoke.
"Sara, it's freezing out here. At least wear my sweatshirt, please?" He moved to pull it off of his body again.
"I won't be much longer… You can go ahead back to bed." Just as he was about to object, Sara raised her head and turned to face away from him.
Feeling the pain of her dismissal, Gil stepped back into the house, but once his bare feet met the cool of the stone floor he had a hard time understanding why he was there. He looked around the darkened room and tried to imagine how things had gotten so messed up between them. Aside from the abduction itself, they just never seemed to be able to avoid letting things build up to critical mass before they finally dealt with them.
His mind went back to his last session with Phillip, where the man asked him a question he was still trying to find the answer to himself. "If you truly care about this woman, as you have repeatedly stated, and want her to be a major part of your life…then why do you consistently exclude her from it?" The question had stopped him cold during the session.
Just as the realization hit him then, he finally understood that he was once again doing exactly what the dream taunted him about; he was pushing her away, even if it was simply because he was allowing her to push this time. He blew out a breath and took stock of the situation once more.
He turned to look outside, and in the faint light he saw her body tremble with her silent weeping. Not once had he witnessed her tears since her release from the hospital, and the fact that she was hiding them from him gave him cause to question his worth. Was she afraid of his reaction? Did she not trust him to deal with her pain? Were her tears in response to something he had done? That was the last straw for him; he could no longer sit idly by and watch her suffering without at least trying to do something to fix it.
Grabbing the throw resting on the back of a dining room chair, he made ready to do battle against the demons.
When he exited the house again Sara never stirred, and he was unsure about whether she was ignoring him, or if she had simply not heard the door slide open. She was still clutching her arms around her legs with her head resting on her knees. In the dim light of the waning moon, she appeared so small and frail that it caused him even more alarm.
He unfolded the blanket as he got closer to the lounge chair and then stepped over to straddle it when he brought the throw to her back. While he lowered himself to sit directly behind her, he dropped the blanket around her shoulders and took her into his embrace.
He was prepared for her to be slightly angry for ignoring her request to be alone, but when she bolted away from his grasp and stifled a terrified shriek he was completely dumbstruck and utterly heartbroken. There were no words left to him, only the intense and endless agony he felt because of the result of his actions. He sat there, the blanket clutched in his trembling hands, his mouth gaping like a beached trout.
To her credit, Sara tried desperately to recover from the shock of his move, but he could see the gooseflesh over her entire body, and the frightened tremor in her breathing made what was left of his heart clench with regret. "I didn't…hear you…come back… I'm…sorry." She swiped at the tears staining her cheeks and stood at the end of the lounge, her other arm clutched around her body as though it was the only thing keeping her together. Her inability to look him in the face was only further confirmation that things were not nearly as resolved as he was deluding himself into believing.
The sight of Sara in such a state of distress, and knowing that it was his fault she was so horror-struck with fear, broke something inside of him. And when it broke, the last protective walls around his own demons were destroyed.
Gil could count on one hand the number of times he was moved to tears in his adulthood, and most of them involved the suffering, tortured creature before him. He wished more than anything that he had something to offer her, other than his tears. When he felt them streak down his face, the shame of it all took over and he hung his head.
Everything he told himself was a lie, and everything he believed was a myth. The awful shriek ringing in his ears over and over again was all the proof he needed. The memory of her frightened posture was imprinted on his soul, and for the rest of his life he would bear the guilt of that pain. He knew that he was the cause of her pain, that it was his fault she was abducted, and that it was his years of silence which fed her insecurities about their relationship, as well as his intentions.
Continuing to wallow in the dark abyss of regret, he remained defeated atop the lounge chair, the blanket still clutched in his fingers, his eyes never lifted above his own hands. He was so lost in his own agony that he failed to notice Sara as she knelt down on the chair in front of him. Not until she timidly reached out to barely run her hand across the side of his head did he finally look up to find her in front of him.
"I-I…" She bit her lip as she tried to the find the words. "I'm sorry… You just startled me." Her hand finally made real contact with him as she stroked his hair. "I just didn't hear you come out." Slowly, she leaned forward and pressed her forehead into his as she closed her eyes and twined her fingers in his hair. "It's okay."
He swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat as he choked out the words that haunted him. "It's not okay… Nothing is okay." He felt her tense at his words, but Gil dared not move a muscle. His entire future was wrapped up in the skittish eyes of the woman in front of him. "And I don't know how to fix it… Any of it." His body went limp as he finally gave in to the truth. "It's my fault and I can't do anything to fix it. I'm so sorry, Sara."
None of the barriers remained, none of his defenses were left intact. His soul was laid bare to the world and all of its many torments. For the first time in since his boyhood, he found himself at the complete mercy of fate with nothing to protect him; not logic, not reason, not science.
Just when he thought the overwhelming tide of despair would take him away, he felt her arms wrap around his head and pull him into her embrace. He was still deep in the throes of anguish as she tried to cradle him in her arms, but he finally broke out of his stupor when he felt her tears begin to dampen the top of his head. However, it was the sound of her soothing words that brought him back to the present.
"Please don't worry… I'm fine." She held him tight and rocked them back and forth as the words fell from her lips in a chant. "I'm right here… It's okay."
It all became too much for him, and he sat up to gaze into her eyes when he said, "It's not okay, Sara." He dropped the blanket between them and gently took her hands into his. "You're sitting outside in the freezing cold, because you can't stay in bed next to me. You have nightmares, but you won't talk to me about them, and try to hide them from me."
He took in a deep breath, steeling himself for his own admission. "I wake up two and three times a night, certain my heart is going to leap out of my chest in fear. I'm having panic attacks when I can't be with you all the time. And-…" He stopped, terrified that if he gave voice to the fears which had plagued him for weeks, the truth of them would break him forever. "And I feel like you're slipping away from me. That somehow, I'm pushing you away, that you just want me to disappear, that you-…" The thought cut into him like a dagger straight through the heart, and made each word feel like an assault. "That you blame me just as much as I do."
"What are you saying?" Her face betrayed an unbelievable sense of shock and dismay. "I have never said anything like that."
"You haven't said much of anything." Gil regretted the words even as they left his mouth. He dropped his gaze and added, "But neither have I."
Her voice was soft, frail and he almost missed what she said. "I know…about the panic attacks." He sat with his mouth hanging slightly agape. "And you'd wake up even more if I didn't stay in bed most of the time."
Shaking his head, Gil asked, "I don't understand… How-"
"You start breathing heavy, and it wakes me up." She shrugged and finished, "If I lay my head on your chest, you usually calm down."
"But why didn't you say anything?" He was completely confused by her revelation.
Watching her struggle with the answer, he began to worry even more, but not knowing had already caused enough damage. Gil squeezed her hands gently and pleaded to her with his gaze. She inhaled sharply and the words trembled from her lips. "Because I didn't want you to worry…about what happens."
He searched his mind, trying desperately to piece together the truth, to understand why Sara would be so afraid. When his mind finally reconnected with the logic of the situation, he was suddenly mortified by the implication. "No…" For the first time in his life, he simply could not accept what the evidence was telling him. His attempts to calm his own fears were the real source of her horror.
"It's okay… I just-" Sara struggled to explain herself, but he was still at war with the truth. "It's just…when you…cover me like that…" Each word pained him, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and take her into his arms to keep any and all pain away from her, but now he knew the truth: his embrace; that was the source of her pain.
When he released her hands, dropping them as though they were a venomous snake, Sara drew in a surprised breath. "No… It's not that." She reached up to stroke his cheek. "I just… I get a little…claustrophobic when I can't move." She released a sigh and brought her forehead back to his when she said, "I didn't tell you, because I thought it would pass and… because I didn't want you to worry."
"Sara… If I'm doing something to hurt you, I need to know." He looked up and right into her eyes when he reached up to touch the line of her jaw with the backs of his fingers. "The last thing I want is to cause you anymore har-"
"Stop!" He reared back in surprise by her outburst, and then he watched as she struggled to regain her control. "I can't listen to that anymore." She took his face in both of her hands and made absolutely certain that he was paying attention before she spoke again. "None of this is your fault… Not the dreams, not the claustrophobia, not the abduction, not even the fact that I'm sitting out here freezing my ass off tonight." He tried to look away, but she refused to let him. "I know you think you've got some kind of limitless power, Gil, but don't get ahead of yourself. You aren't that good." He caught the slight glint in her eyes and then she gave him a shadow of a wink when she added, "Close, but not quite."
The turn at the corner of his mouth was completely involuntary. Even under the most stressful circumstances, she always managed to get him to smile. And he had nearly lost that with her, which made his smirk fade just as quickly as it appeared. "Then why are we here?"
"We're here for two reasons… One, some crazy girl decided to start killing people, because no one ever took the time to help her. But she made some serious errors in judgment." Sara reached in and tucked her fingers under his chin. "She tried to outsmart the best minds forensic science has to offer." He nearly relaxed with her compliment, but her next words did him in. "And she pissed off Jim."
The laughter that erupted from his chest had them both shedding the tremendous weight they were carrying. "I'm serious… He's a real bad ass when he's mad."
As he calmed down from their outburst, he fell back into the lounge chair. "I can testify to the truth in that." He watched as she sat back on her feet and relaxed her shoulders. "What's the other one?"
She regarded him with a puzzled look when she asked, "Other one, what?"
"You said that we were here for two reasons…what's the other reason?"
She chuckled with his question and started to rub up and down on her upper arm, as though the cold had finally reached her conscious thought. That was when Gil remembered what was sitting between them. He gathered up the blanket in his hands, leaned forward, and cautiously wrapped it around her shoulders. "Right… The other reason we've ended up here, and why I chose to sit out on the patio in my underwear." Gil ran his hands up and down her arms, trying to help warm her as she continued with her explanation. "Because we are the two most stubborn, socially inept, non-communicative, relationship-challenged jackasses to ever walk the earth on two feet."
He fought the smirk that threatened to take over his face when he asked, "That seems like quite the conclusion you have there, and you've come by this exactly how?" His hands continued to softly stroke over her body as he waited for the answer.
Sara closed her eyes and allowed a bit of slack in her spine, which softened her posture before she answered. "Testimony, observation, experience, analysis and experimentation. You know, all the usual suspects." He finally let go and chuckled at her response.
Gil fell back into the chair again and sighed. The seriousness of the whole thing fell over him as he tried to relax. A shiver of cold went through his body and he squeezed his eyes shut as he asked the question that had always troubled him, "Why does everything have to be so difficult, Sara?"
Instead of an answer, he heard the slide of the patio door. When he opened his eyes, he was alone on the patio. "Sara?" She did not answer.
He was about to get up and follow after her when she suddenly appeared in the open doorway. Gil smiled when he saw the big fleece blanket thrown over her arm as she stepped back onto the patio. "What?"
"You disappeared." The slight whine in his voice surprised him, but the gentle wink she gave him in response let him know that she was amused by it.
"Sorry…but that throw wasn't even big enough to cover me, and that is not a thirty second discussion." She knelt down in the chair in front of him and shook the blanket out. As she drew it along the length of the lounge, and up over her back, she managed to move herself into a comfortable resting spot. With her head lying on his shoulder, she tucked the blanket in around his body. "Plus, it's really hard to effectively debate with you when my teeth are chattering."
"Not that I am complaining, but why exactly are you doing this?" He tried to look into her face, but it was buried comfortably in the crook on the left side of his neck.
"I'm cold, you're shivering, we're both in our underwear, and I'm tired." Her left hand wound its way to the back of his neck, where she began to play with the hair at the nape as she explained. "And this is the most we've talked in months, so I didn't want to miss it."
He wanted desperately to wrap his arms around her, but he kept them firmly on the sides of the chair for fear that he would trigger another episode. With his legs straddled on either side of the lounge, it was difficult to be comfortable as she adjusted her weight over the top of him. Gil tried to relax, but he was still very worried about how his actions would be received, especially now that he was aware of the severity of her fears.
As though she sensed his inner turmoil, Sara sat up and regarded him with a concerned expression. "Are you okay?" He tried to keep the fear out of his expression, but she misunderstood his intention. She pushed away from his chest with a start, "Oh man, I'm sorry… Am I hurting you?"
"No!" His hands instantly moved to her sides to stop her. He was practically desperate for any contact with her beyond the unconscious embraces, and the casual brushes that had been their only exchange since the abduction. When he realized what he had done, Gil slammed his eyes shut and tried to remove the panic from his voice before he spoke again. "I'm sorry…" He held his hands out and away from her. "I'm just afraid of…hurting you."
Sara sat back on her heels and slumped over. "I'm starting to see your point."
Sitting forward, Gil reached out and took her right hand in his when he asked, "Which one?"
"About everything having to be so hard." She looked down at their hands as he turned them over to stroke the back of hers with his thumb. "All I want is to sleep through the night, feel safe in your arms again, and not to constantly be looking over my shoulder. But I can't even have a normal conversation with you anymore. Not without one of us freaking out, anyway."
Releasing a deep sigh, he knew that her words were the absolute gospel, but he was not willing to let them remain that way. "Tell me what to do, Sara."
"You think if I knew, I wouldn't have done something by now?" Sara dropped her hands onto his shoulders and collapsed against him. "I'm just tired of being afraid of everything."
His first instinct was to hold her in his arms and stroke her hair, but he was still unsure about what to do. Deciding to go with the most innocent of gestures, he ran a hand down from the crown of her head along the full length of her hair. With each stroke, she melted into him further. When he leaned his head into the side of hers, she let go of his shoulder to reach down and grabbed his other hand. "I know it's been a while, but…" She tugged the arm up and put it around her back. "I think this goes here."
Relaxing into the embrace, his nerves were eased by the way her body molded into his with the contact. The feeling was enough to infuse him with a small dose of confidence. He slowly pulled her into him and he leaned back into the chair again, only this time he brought his legs up onto the lounge as well. Once they were resting against the back of the chair, and into each other, Sara stretched her legs out until she was situated between his legs, and lying sideways in his arms.
"You okay?" She spread out her palm over his chest and began to trace the letters on his sweatshirt.
He inhaled deeply, filling his nostrils with the scent of her hair, before he answered her honestly. "I don't believe I could feel any better than I do at this very moment." He enjoyed the gentle vibration of her amused giggle.
They remained like that, in quiet communion with one another for a long while. Simply relishing in the comfort of their bodies.
When his eyelids began to grow heavy, he sighed into her hair and relaxed into the chair even further. Just as he was about to succumb to sleep, he felt Sara begin to fidget on top of him. "What is it?"
She huffed and then dropped her head back onto his chest. "It's nothing."
He threw his head into the back of the chair and said, "Don't start that again."
Her chuckle met his exclamation. "Sorry… What I meant to say was, I'm getting cold."
"Oh! Well, then let's get you-" He was about to get up when she planted him in place with her palm. "What?"
"You don't take hints very well." He was still confused by her comments when he felt her left hand slowly crawl up underneath his sweatshirt. As her fingers started to tickle across his bare chest, it suddenly dawned on him what she referring to.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Gil prepared himself for the chance that his interpretation was false and he gathered up the courage to ask, "Sara?"
Her head was nestled into his neck by that point, and when she hummed her acknowledgement it sent warm ripples of pleasure through his entire body. He wanted her so badly that he was almost afraid of what his desire would do, if it was unleashed. "Do you know what you're doing?"
Her other hand joined in and started to run up along his back when she answered, "I'm trying to stay warm." Her whispered words danced over the skin of his neck with her heated breath.
"Okay." It was not the answer he was looking for, but he decided to let it play out, careful not to let himself get too carried away in the process.
When she tugged his sweatshirt up from his body a little more, he was surprised by the touch of her lips to the side of his neck. But it was her soft and pleading voice that knocked him for a loop. "I want to feel normal… I just need to feel whole again, even if it's just for a little while."
"I just don't want to h-" She silenced him with a finger over his lips.
"You won't… I know that, really I do." Her lips tenderly replaced her finger. "I just need a little refresher course…in trusting myself."
He moved his hands to the sides of her head and tilted it down to press a loving kiss into her forehead. "You shouldn't have any problems there… After all, it was your trust in an us that saved me." She looked up to catch his eyes, and he saw in their dark depths the most breathtaking concentration of gratitude and affection he could ever recall. He reached out to catch one of the drops that tried to tumble from the glassy pools of unshed tears he found in her eyes.
The feeling of her lips pressed into his was enough to knock him off balance. Sara always poured her entire being into her kisses, but this time was different. He felt like there was so much more to the soft, simple caress of her lips with his, and he was certain that they had finally reached a turning point.
Moving her hands to his head, her fingers wound themselves through his hair and massaged his scalp, sending an almost electric current into his mind and body. The urge to let himself go was great, but more powerful than that primal compulsion to lay claim to her body was his abiding and unconditional love for her. As much as she needed to feel whole, to feel some semblance of normalcy, he needed it for her ten fold. And so, he let her call the shots; let her set the pace and the tone, because it was the only thing he had to offer her in the way of help.
Leaning on her arms, she pressed them into his chest and slowly brought her legs up until they were under her, and straddling him. Sitting up and away from him, her lips finally broke their hold on his and she looked down into his eyes. There were no words to express what he saw glimmering in those eyes, and he would carry the memory of that look with him to his grave.
He was suddenly overcome with emotion, staring deeply into her soul. "Sara…"
She shook her head and then laid it down beside his to whisper into his ear. "Shhhhhhhhh." Before he could protest, the feeling of her lips as they touched the space behind his ear silenced any further speech. There was always something particularly distracting about the way Sara would pay such close attention to his ears. It was almost reverent.
When Sara began to hum into his skin as she pressed her cheek along his jaw, he wanted very much to take her into his arms and show her his appreciation for what she was doing to him. It took everything in his power to refrain from doing just that, because he knew how important it was for her to be in control.
The heat of her lips and tongue trailing down his neck served to stoke Gil's fire. He could feel every centimeter of contact where her body touched his, where her skin met his, where her lips pressed into his flesh. Each touch, each caress brought his libido to a full boil. By the time Sara reached down to lift his sweatshirt from his body, his skin had already begun to perspire.
With his arms in the air after she pulled the shirt from him, he wanted to drop them onto her back. Instead, he held them up a while longer, until he saw the blanket drop from her shoulders. His instincts kicked in, and he reached down for the blanket, slowly dragging it back up the length of her body.
He was stopped when Sara began to run her tongue along his collar bone to the dip at the base of his throat. She paused to nip at the crest, before she started to kiss her way down over his bared chest. He groaned with intense pleasure as she sucked one of his nipples in between her lips and teased at the nub with her teeth. As she moved to the other nipple and circled around the perimeter with her tongue, he ground his teeth together and bunched the blanket up in his fists while he continued to fight the urge to envelope her with his body.
Continuing to hold the blanket over her, Gil struggled to maintain his control as Sara teased and taunted his flesh, but when she began to grind into him his ability to think rationally started to wear thin. He could feel the pulsing in his groin with each thrust of her hips into his pelvis. The clench of his jaw as he fought his urge to press her into his embrace was his only defense, as Sara ran her long fingers up and down his sides and continued to nip at the flesh on his chest.
Sara's fingers dipped lower and lower with each pass, until she started to run them along the inside of the waistband to his shorts. When she pushed her right hand deep into the garment and skirted it along the edge of his hip, his reflexes took over and he thrust himself forward. Her throaty chuckle danced over his belly and made it even more difficult for him to focus on maintaining his control.
Stretching back up along his body, Sara went in for another tender embrace of his mouth with her own, pressing her body into his as she drew his bottom lip out with her teeth. He could feel her entire length as she writhed against him, and Gil was dangerously close to losing his grip. His baser self was screaming at him to let go, but his rational side told him to hold on, because he owed it Sara.
She had stood by him through so much already, helped him overcome his fears, soothed his soul when he was close to burning out, forgave him for his deficiencies, and gave him her trust, even when he proved that he did not deserve it. This was his time to finally prove to her that her investment had been worth all of the pain. Even if it cost him his sanity, he was going to give her all that she needed to get through this.
Slamming his eyes shut as Sara reached back down to his shorts, Gil dropped the blanket and gripped the hand rails of the lounge chair. His knuckles went white the moment he felt her hand wrap around him at the base, but when she began to slowly and firmly pump her hand up and down he was sure the rails were going to break off in his grasp. She slowly slid her body down his torso, making him grit his teeth and hiss with his barely intact restraint.
His mind barely registered that his shorts were being removed as she continued to stroke him in an incredibly sensual rhythm. However, his psyche nearly exploded the moment he felt her tongue snake from the bottom of his shaft to the tip. He could feel the heat of her breath on the already heated flesh, but the sensation of Sara's tongue running over the length of him was positively enrapturing.
What started as a pulsing sensation in his groin quickly became a pounding force of blood as she worked her mouth around the turgid mass of flesh. He could feel every slide, slurp and lathe of her tongue. He relished in each centimeter that she brought into her warm, wet mouth. And he was perfectly aware of each caress of her fingers and the grip of her hands as she continued to tease him into absolute rigidity.
When his hips began to thrust involuntarily, he knew just how close he was getting, but Sara slowed her pace at the same time. He groaned when she pulled away from him, and he fought to keep his hands firmly gripped on the chair. If he let go, he knew that he would not be able to stop himself from reaching out for her.
His eyes were still clenched shut as he waged a war with his primal desires to take her into his arms, so he was unaware of what went on in front of him. Instead, he nearly jumped out of his skin when Sara's lips descended over his once more. Her kisses were more urgent than before, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to remain passive with each press of her lips.
As Sara pulled her lips away from his mouth, his eyes opened to follow her movements. She pressed her left hand into his chest for balance and then reached down with her right. When she took hold of him and wriggled her hips into position, he was suddenly aware that she had removed her panties.
He gasped when she took the head into her moist heat. Gil was unprepared for their joining, even though he had wanted nothing else for weeks. The tight grip she had around the tip was enough to send stronger pulses of circulation into his groin. He could practically hear the blood rushing in his ears as she slowly dropped over his shaft.
The painfully deliberate slide of her body falling onto him was maddening. He wanted to reach out and grab her hips, to thrust into her, to bury himself within her walls, to lose himself in the act of making love to her. But this was not about what he wanted; this was about Sara, and what she needed.
Before she enveloped him completely, Sara started to rock over him, gripping him with each raise. With each lift of her hips, his back arched of its own volition, as though his body was attempting to keep the contact at all costs. She descended upon him deeper and deeper each time, and he found his hips rolling in time with her movements.
He could feel his restraint being slowly eroded away with each grip of her walls, with each rock of her hips, and was not sure he would be able to hold back much longer. He looked up into her eyes and found that she was losing herself in the act. Her lids were heavy with arousal, and her hair was dampened from the heat they were generating between them.
The only thought on his mind was that he wanted to reach up and take her head in his hands so that he could capture her mouth. He wanted to grab her hips and thrust up into her to claim her body. To prevent him from doing just that, he gripped the hand rails even tighter and he could hear the wood creak from the strain.
When she slowed her movements, he fought back the desire to speed it back up. Her body fell back into his and she brought her mouth to his ear. Her hot breath on the shell of his ear was maddening as he waited to learn what she wanted.
She slowly ran her hands down the length of his arms until she reached his white-knuckled fingers on the hand rails. The words that fell from her lips and dripped into his ear were like a little taste of heaven. "I miss your hands."
It took barely a moment for the information to sail through all of the defenses he had kept in place before he was able to release his death grip on the chair. He allowed his hands to be guided by Sara's movements, and he soon felt them at the tops of her hips. Without another thought, he pulled his head up to capture her mouth, pouring every ounce of his gratitude and desire into the kiss they shared.
They were soon working together, their movements in time with the other, each working to enhance the act for one another. His hands quickly stripped away her tank top and roamed over every bit of her newly exposed skin. The passes were aided by the perspiration on her skin, and the heat against his palms was his reward for his patience.
When she planted her palms into his chest, he groaned with the increased pressure on his groin. His hands instantly moved to the center of her hips so that he could hold her to him tighter. Sara moaned with the added contact, and continued to wriggle her hips in a delicious rhythm.
He could feel the pulse begin deep within his groin, and he knew there was no way he would be able to hold back much longer. Gil moved his right hand in along the line of her thigh, and dropped his thumb into the junction. He pressed into her folds until his thumb made contact with her nub. In that instant, Sara bucked into him with an intense reaction, which only increased as he began to stroke her center.
Working in time with her rocking hips, the pace began to accelerate until they were both panting. Without any warning at all, his control vanished entirely and his mind exploded into a million tiny shards at the same moment he felt a pulsing, vice-like grip around him, taking him completely and totally over the edge.
The cold chill of the pre-dawn air finally stirred him from his stupor. He found a satiated angel curled up on his chest, and he lifted his head up to kiss her exposed shoulder. Her skin was damp and the night air had already cooled her flesh. He reached down for the blanket and drew it up to cover her, and she stirred from her exhausted slumber.
He whispered into her ear, "Are you okay?"
His only answer was a low thrumming purr. "Mmmmmmmmmm."
He ran his hands up and down her back as he tried to warm her skin. "Was that a good 'mmmm' or a tired 'mmmm?'"
She vibrated over his chest with her chuckle, but her answer gave him a reason to laugh. "Yes."
He shook with laughter as he wrapped his arms around her, and held her tight into his chest. Instead of stiffening, as she had been for weeks, Sara kissed his collar bone and pulled herself in tighter. It was the most amazing feeling he had ever experienced.
Gil relaxed into the sensation of her comfort and their combined embrace. The memory of that moment was permanently etched into his soul, and he would carry that feeling of total acceptance with him all the rest of his days. He sighed with the realization that everything else would be fine. As long as they could be like this, nothing else mattered. She was his whole world, and knowing that they would always have each other was enough to carry him through whatever came their way.
Sara snuggled into his embrace beneath the blanket and asked, "What's that for?"
"What?" He was distracted by the feeling of her movement against his body.
"That…" She expelled a deep breath in a rush and explained, "It was a very pronounced sigh."
"Ah… I do believe that was your fault." Gil took her left hand in his and twined their fingers together.
"Oh really? How do you figure?" She twisted her fingers within his as she played with his hand.
He brought the back of her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Because you are…"
The long pause that followed gave Sara cause to sit up and look on his thoughtful countenance. When he smiled at her puzzled expression, she chuckled, "I thought for a second that you fell back asleep." He brought both his arms around her again and sighed once more with the sensation.
She cleared her throat when he failed to continue and asked, "Because I am…what?"
"Take your pick… Intelligent, beautiful, strong, caring, compassionate, tough, talented, loving, sensual, practical, insightful, and absolutely amazing in every way." She sat up and looked into his intense gaze as he concluded his explanation, "So, the only way to sum it up as simply as possible is to say that, 'you are.'"
Sara kissed him sweetly before she dropped back into his chest and gave her own sigh. "You forgot one."
His delighted chuckle met her response. Wrapping his arms more tightly around her, he asked, "I don't see how, but enlighten me, please."
"You forgot the most important thing… Yours."
"Ah, see, that is where you are mistaken…" He pulled the strand of hair which had fallen over her face and then looked into her eyes when he said, "That is simplest way in which I would describe myself."
A/N2: I once again apologize for writing a one shot that breaks the bank on length. Sometimes, I just can't seem to stop. Hopefully it wasn't too out of place.