Title: Seven (Grissom)

Genre: CSI Las Vegas

Disclaimer: Not mine, and anyway CBS (including production and writers) won't let them do this on screen, trust me…

Timeline: Late season six.

Spoilers: Everything is game up until end season 6. Some vaguely referred to, see if you can spot them.

Rating: Strong M for adult content. (Right throughout)

Characters: Grissom and Sara.

Author notes: The muse is being a bitch, she won't do stressed Sara and I so want to continue with journey. The situation out in the fringe fandom is not helping either. I'd rather have her play with Grissom and Sara than let her loose on Peter and alt-Olivia. I'm not sure which one she'd hurt more. I was going to use this in journey. However, I couldn't find a suitable scene to attach it to (Seeing as I'm three chapters past the nesting dolls one already.)

Summary: GSR Smut, no plotline.

Story word count: 1 637

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Somewhere he'd read that on average sexual intercourse lasts seven minutes. Where he can't remember, it must've been in some magazine. But tonight he swore to himself he would last longer. Okay so he cheated, he jerked off before she came over. What else could he do? Sara could walk into a room and his body would be at attention within seconds, and that had only become worse since they'd started making love. Since his body had gained the knowledge of what it was like to sink into her. Now it just instinctively gravitated towards her, even more so than in the past.

This was their first night off together, since they'd started making love. He'd planned to seduce her so completely, had planned it so carefully. However what he'd planned and what had happened, was as opposing as chalk was from cheese. He'd planned to do it slowly… but the minute the door had closed behind her and he'd locked it, he'd had her pinned against the wall. Forget the wooing he wanted her, all of her. Her surprise was quickly replaced by hot passion as his hands ran over her body. He'd stripped her on the way to his bedroom then tenderly laid her down on the bed. Then proceeded to made love to her skin, with his hands, mouth, body until she begged him to take her.

That was where he was now, deep within her depths. She was narrow, hot, wet and she fit him like a glove… Almost too good, can sex be too good? He pondered on it for a moment. Oh yes, sex with Sara could drive him out of his mind. The taste of her – the scent of her - the feel of her. They may not have been making love for all that long, but they've been intimate for years. He loved her mind, loved being around her. Had dreamed of being inside her, moving there… where he was now.

For years he'd been making love to her mind, kept her close with his words. Done what he'd needed to, to keep her from leaving him. It had been cruel, but he'd felt it validated. Lately they'd become so intimate that sex was just the cherry on top. It enhanced their relationship it didn't define it. That definition lay with the time she'd touched him with something more than partnerly concern, when her touch had been meant as comfort, showed her concern for him. She'd always been his, on a purely professional and scientific level. She'd been his CSI. The others were allowed to interact with her, but he decided with whom she'd work.

There'd always been love and adoration for her. Her quirky ways had always brought a smile to his face. Her temper - could shock and stun him, speechless at times. He'd never questioned the pull he'd felt for her, he'd only ever refused to give into it. Until the day he'd realized that it was the only thing missing from their relationship, that she'd become such a part of his life that he no longer saw them as two independent people, but as a pair.

Now there was lust, red-hot lust. And a blinding need to take her, as often as his love starved body could handle it. They'd done this maybe six times now. Each time was never long enough. He could never give her enough - feel her enough. They'd been blinding urgent, wondrously sensual, but never enough. She'd shivered, moaned even cried with the force of her climax. He'd gathered her up in his arms afterwards, holding her as she drifted to sleep. Still it wasn't enough.

Looking down at her, her hair strewn over the pillow, gasping as he pushed home inside her. There was nothing more breathtaking than Sara under him, whilst he loved her. There in her depths, when she tightens and convulses around him, when her body pulls him deeper into her… That's when he's at his weakest, when he needs her most. That's when he knows how much he loves her. It's there in her depths that he becomes a whole person.

When he'd sunk into her, he'd marveled at the feel of her around him. Again cursing himself for denying them this for so many years. She was so warm, so loving, so completely his. He'd sunk into her slowly, rocking, he was going to make it last. Tonight he was going to fill her to the brim, make her scream his name.

This was followed by steady thrusts as he kissed her lips stealing the moans from her mouth. Knowing that if he could, he'd stay there forever. There where she kept him safe.

Then he felt her stiffen, and started slowing down

'No my dear, not yet, I'm not done.'

He felt her fingertips bite into his back as she tried to encourage him to speed up. Slowing his breathing he put to practice those techniques he had learnt from the Kama Sutra.

'Shh Sara it will be good, I want more of you, so much more.'

Then he was rocking again, kissing her with abandon needing her taste, keeping her body humming, feeding her passion. Hearing her moans of how good it felt. He fought the need to speed up. Knowing that she was close, knowing that she wanted to let go, but he persisted. He needed more.

Slowly drawing up her legs, bringing them to lie over his arms, he placed his palms on the mattress, leveraging himself up. He slowly pulls from her and then sinks back deeply. Whilst looking down at her, her body braced against his. He knew that if someone had to take a photo of them, like this, they wouldn't be able to recognize themselves. Slowing the pace some more he pushes into her deeply, her hands had slipped to his hips gripping them as he sank home. Their bodies glistened with perspiration, the heat between them intense.

Finding his knees he lifts her to him allowing her thighs to drift past his, pulling back slowly he drove forward, hard, fast, burying himself. His hands pulling on her hips as he moved forward, his body slapping into hers. He chances a glance down, wanting to see them come together.

'Sara, look at us.' Grissom groaned between thrusts.

Oh god Sara, oh Jesus! Look at you, your stunning body how it just swallows me, the heat of you, the feel of you when I'm inside you, so deep inside… I yearn to be inside you like this… What do you feel when I move in you like this, is it as mind blisteringly good for you, do you like me want it to go on forever… Oh god I'm inside you, just look at it. Can you feel it. Oh God the sensations as you swallow me, look at how your body consumes mine, your wonderfully sensuous body how it accepts this old and weary body of mine, and gives it meaning, life, love…

Slowly he pulled out again before driving home hard. He heard her breath catch every time he hit home. Controlling his breathing he slammed into her whilst slowly drawing back, his hands moved over her abdomen worshipping her skin before gently brushing over her sex. She was sensitive, her body yearning for release. His thrusts had been met by surprise, then encouragement. She'd looked at them, after which she'd closed her eyes as he traced her body with his hands. Her hands moved from his body, her intent clear to him. Just then he caught her wrists and laced his fingers with hers. Before maneuvering them, so that he lay flush with her again. Pinning her hands to the mattress, next to her head. He picked up the pace slightly. Once again driving more steadily into her, knowing she was ready for him, that she was close again. He had felt the tingle in his spine as his climax started building.

Her eyes were glazed as they met his, this is what he'd seen that time he'd held her wrists, her surrender to him as he possessed her. Letting go of her hands he traced his fingers down her arms, felt her feet dig into his calves, he was so unbelievably close, fighting his release. Slipping his arms under her, his hands resting on her shoulders bearing his weight on his forearms, allowing for him to hold her close without crushing her. He started arching into her, his thrusts determined as he rocked her body when they connected. His head buried in her neck as he relaxed his back then curved again, his pelvic actions grinding against hers. With every thrust that hit home he chanted her name. He felt her body flutter around his, heard the low keening that marked the start of her climax. He moved his head capturing her one nipple, drawing it into his mouth and sucking it hard as he pushed in deeper, once again rocking against her.

The raw sound of her orgasm ripped through him as she screamed his name. His mouth released her as his body started vibrating, his thrusts becoming erratic as her body pulled at him, encouraging him to let go. His back arched, drawing his chin into his chest he growled her name, gripping her hip with his hand as his body released into her. His was no longer driving but bucking into her, as his climax seemed to go on and on. Pulling out he rested his head on her chest as his spent body dropped to the bed. He felt her fingers thread into his hair as his arms closed round her momentarily, turning his head to kiss her abdomen before settling down to catch his breath.

She'll be the death of him still.