Okay, so this is Smut Challenge Number 1 - Craziest place for Hotch and Emily to have sex. May I just say that this challenge was TOTALLY tigereye77's idea, I just followed meekly like a sheep led to slaughter. KIDDING! We all know I'm much more deviant that she is. Although in saying that, saturdayslump, my beautiful beta told me my smut quotient in this fic is lower than usual LOL.

So, this is a sequel to 'The Benefits of Therapeutic Benefits' which if you've read it, you would be aware is super duper explicit. I didn't feel like going that far here. And you will need to suspend disbelief in relation to the location. It was the craziest place I could come up with. Perhaps think of this as a crack fic.

Disclaimer: As usual, I do not own any of the characters and no infringement is intended.

"Thanks, John," said Hotch into the intercom. "We'll be down shortly." He took a few steps towards the corridor leading to Emily's bedroom. Raising his voice slightly, he called out, "Emily. Your mother's car is here."

"Coming!" came the flustered reply. Hotch bit back a smile when he heard a thump followed by a string of curses that would have made a sailor lift both eyebrows. Emily had been delayed at her hairdresser's and as a result had been forced to rush through her shower and make-up application. Two minutes later she hurried out of the bedroom, a pair of sandals in on hand and a silvery beaded clutch in her other.

She stopped before him and presented her back. "Can you do me up please?"

Hotch hooked to top of her dress together, then unable to help himself, bent his head and pressed a lingering kiss on her neck, bare as a result of her hair being swept up into an elegant knot on her head. The soft scent of jasmine teased his nostrils when he nuzzled her just beneath her neck. He smiled when he heard her breath hitch slightly and he stroked his hand down the bare expanse of her back. He never ceased to wonder at the smooth softness of her skin, wishing he could take the time now to press a trail of kisses down her spine. He loved how it always drove her crazy. She was already shivering at the mere touch of his fingertips as he drew them back up her spine.

"Aaron, we can't. There's no time. We need to go." She pulled away from him, looking breathless. "Here." She handed him her footwear and he bent down to slip the barely there four-inch high sandals on her scarlet tipped feet. "So what do you think of my Christian Louboutin Anna Strass crystal sandals?"

He had never been a foot fetish type of guy, but even he had to admit the sandals looked damned sexy on her feet. There were two thin straps of material encrusted with crystals that went over her feet just under her toes, then another strap behind her ankle. Sling back, she called them, he seem to remember. He looked up at his girlfriend of five months. "I like them very much. Although I have a feeling I'm not going to like my credit card bill this month." He stood up and held out his arm.

"Don't worry, honey, I paid for them myself." She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.

"Really?" They walked out of her apartment and down the stairs. "I gave you my credit card so you could buy something for yourself."

"I know, and that's very sweet of you, but to be honest, you couldn't afford them, my love."

"Wow." Hotch opened the door to her apartment building and held it as she swept through, the evening breeze making ruched white chiffon gown swirl around her legs. He stood still for a moment, watching as she walked gracefully towards the limo, the sunset surrounding the silhouette of her lithe, slender frame. For the millionth time, he wondered what she was doing with him when she could literally have any man she wanted.

Emily reached the limo where John, the driver was holding the door open for her. She turned back to find him some feet away. "Aaron? Are you okay?"

"Yes, sorry." He finally moved, lengthening his strides and reached her side in seconds. He got in after her and John closed the door, engulfing them in total privacy. The screen between them and him was up and Hotch knew that although they could see the driver through the dark pane, he was unable to see or hear anything in the back. Something Hotch was counting on.

"Why were you standing there just then?" Emily tilted her head, looking curious.

He shook his head slightly. "You really don't know how beautiful you look, do you?"

Even in the dim light he could see the blush that adorned her cheeks. God, she was gorgeous. He was a lucky bastard to have her.

"You look pretty darn good yourself in your tux." She gave him a sultry smile. "Really hot, actually. So, I gather you like the evening gown too?"

"I seem to recollect saying something to that effect when you modelled it for me the other night. I particularly like the bodice." He reached out and trailed his fingertips down one side of the deep V of the neckline, touching the smooth inner swell of her breast before reaching the thick band of beaded crystals under the upper bodice.

"You just...like it because of the easy access aspect." Hotch's eyes narrowed when she looked down at his fingers running up the other side of the V.

"Lean back," he murmured, shifting backwards and drawing her left leg up onto his lap so that she was forced to face him on the seat.

"Aaron, what are you doing?" He heard the faint note of apprehension in her voice. In contrast to this however, was the way her eyes widened with shocked arousal when she saw what he had just taken out of trouser pocket. "Wh..what is that?"

He didn't say anything at first, lifting her gown up over her spread-eagled thighs. "Something I bought a while ago. After our little stress relief session in Dallas." He ran the dark purple bullet against her mound, hearing her inhale sharply when it skimmed over her sensitive nub. "I'm glad you remembered to wear panties like I asked you too, and not a thong." He dropped the bullet on the seat next to her and pulling aside the gusset of her underwear with right hand, slid the fingers of his left hand through her moist heat.

Emily gasped sharply, dropping her head back against the car door behind her. "Is...is this your way of paying me back for that session?"

He rubbed her clit lightly with the tip of his middle finger, watching with narrowed eyes as she bit her lip. "You know as well as I do that the longer you have to wait, the more explosive your climax is going to be." He took his finger away, and she cried out in protest, silencing immediately when he slowly sank that same finger into her wet, satiny depths.

Her hands curled into fists as he started to thrust, first with one finger, then after a while, adding the second one. Emily's body arched as he did so. He moved gently, feeling her tightness ease after a while. He curled his fingers slightly, raking the roof of her pussy and Emily emitted a keening moan, starting to pant as he continued to stroke that hypersensitive spot within her. "Oh God, please, Aaron, please..."

Hotch felt his cock throb, straining the front of his pants at the sight of her lying spread wantonly before him. If he hadn't already planned the evening down to the last detail, he would have unfastened his pants and covered her with his body right there and then. Suck it up, Hotchner. He removed his fingers and picking up the bullet, slowly inserted it into her. Emily tensed slightly while he pushed the as yet foreign object in, its one inch diameter stretching her entrance before the two and a half inch length was finally engulfed by her body, leaving only the loop of string in sight. He continued to push it in a little deeper, eyes focussed intently on her face for any signs of discomfort. There was none, and he was glad that he had taken the time to prepare her, the natural lubrication her body produced easing the way. "How's this, is it all right?" He could hear the husky edge of arousal in his own voice, which was unsurprising. Even though it was almost dark outside, there were two small lights in the compartment they were in and he could see every detail of the woman he loved. Not only that. The scent of her arousal was thick in the air, and he felt his erection jerk in his trousers, as if reminding him that it was waiting. He ignored the demands of his body. Tonight was for Emily.

"Mmm...it's...fine." Her voice was low and breathy, almost unrecognisable. He removed his hands, adjusting her underwear so that it was back in place before lowering her leg and covering her back up with her gown. "What are you doing?" Emily looked stunned as he helped her sit up. "You're not planning to leave that...inside me?" She stared at him wide-eyed.

"You'll be fine. Just be patient."

"Aaron! You can't be serious!" Her face was flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. "You do realise where we're going!"

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you're not embarrassed."

"What do you mean you'll make sure I'm not embarrassed? Aaron." Her brows drew together. "What have you done?"

He stuck his left hand into his pocket and flashed her a wolfish grin. He clicked the control into a medium setting and Emily cried out, grabbing his knee as her body went rigid.

"Oh my God!" She gasped loudly, turning to look at him with wild eyes. "N..no, don't. Aaron, please." He let it go for a few more seconds before pressing a button, lowering it down to its second lowest setting. He had studied the remote bullet carefully before tonight, testing it a number of times and making sure he knew the remote control back to front.

Emily swallowed hard and he could see the pulse beating frantically at the base of her neck. She stared at him, breathing fast. "Take this thing out or I'm going to kill you."

"Sweetheart, you're going to be fine. It's going to feel really good," he said soothingly.

"Aaron, take this out right now!" Her teeth were gritted and she glared at him, even a she squirmed on the seat. "I swear I will tie you up and skin you alive if you don't take it out!"

"That sounds a little too painful to be a turn on," he teased, watching as she gave him a menacing look.

"Fine, I'll take it out myself!" she hissed, throwing herself back on the seat. However, before she could lift her leg, the limo visibly slowed down. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" Emily quickly straightened her gown and she threw him a look of frustration and anger. "Do anything to embarrass me, and my mother will have your balls! I on the other hand will take your penis!"

He merely nodded, biting back a smile.

Fifteen minutes later, they were standing in line with a various other dignitaries and heads of state, when the military band began to play the familiar tune of Hail the Chief. Even Hotch had to admit that he was experiencing a thrill of excitement at the thought that he was about to shake the hand of the President of the United States. He stood next to Emily, watching the President and the First Lady move down the line, shaking hands and greeting their guests. When they were about five couples away, Hotch slipped his hand unobtrusively into his pocket and changed the mode. He heard Emily swallow a gasp as her entire body tensed. He had chosen the setting where the vibrations jumped two steps upwards before sliding slowly back down, then repeating itself. It was still bearable as the original level he had set was low.

And then it was his turn to stifle a groan when she suddenly drove her heel down on his left foot. Damn, that hurt. He couldn't help but admire her porcelain calm face when the President drew level with them.

"Mr President." Emily's voice was steady as she smiled, shaking the hand of their Commander-in-Chief.

"Emily, it's good to see you. This is...?"

"This is Aaron Hotchner, Mr President."

"Mr President." Hotch shook his hand, trying to impress every detail into his memory so that he could go home and tell Jack all about the experience. Once the President and the First Lady had moved past them, he turned the bullet back down to a low setting, watching as the tension drained out of her shoulders.

She moved so that her mouth was next to his ear. "Skinning you alive is way too good for you. I am going to handcuff you and the next Unsub we apprehend, I'll let him have you for a good hour. Preferably one who's a sexual sadist."

Hotch coughed to disguise his sudden burst of laughter. Damn, she was absolutely magnificent.

For the next hour as they mingled and made small talk with the guests that Emily's mother wanted them to he would randomly change the settings of the bullet. At times the bullet would not so much vibrate as pulsate, at other times, it would change speeds automatically, sliding between fast and slow. Then there was the one which had three short pulses then a long hard one, before the cycle repeated itself. Through it all, Emily managed to maintain her composure and Hotch's admiration for her grew.

In fact, watching her rosy cheeks and the increasing brightness in her eyes as she reacted to the toy was driving him crazy with arousal. He was only just managing to stop himself from reaching a full erection. It was only due to the fact that his dress pants were slightly loose that he was able to hide his partial arousal. Hotch checked his watch. It was time.

"Sweetheart, how about we get some air." As he took Emily's hand, he noticed that there was a faint film of perspiration on her forehead and her pupils were almost fully dilated. He bit back a groan before quickly making their apologies to the senator from Louisiana and his wife. Holding her hand firmly, they walked out of the East Room where the ball was being held and turned right, heading down the stairs to the ground floor.

Emily watched in surprise when she saw a wide smile broke out on Hotch's face. "Gillespie!"

"Hotchner, you old dog!"

The two men gave each other a bear hug. Even in her less than coherent state, Emily noticed the rugged good looks of the blond man who was around Hotch's age. From the suit he was wearing and the earpiece he was obviously one of the Secret Service agents on the presidential protection detail. She bit her lip as she felt her body tremble at the increase in the speed of the vibrations. Hotch had kept her on the brink of an orgasm for the last hour and a half and she couldn't take it any longer. Every time she had tried to go to the bathroom, her mother would introduce her to another person.

She was going to kill the man she loved. She really was.

"And this is your lovely lady, I presume?" The blond man with the linebacker shoulders turn and grinned at her, the wattage of that smile making her blink. Emily shook his hand, feeling the gun calluses on his hand.

"Emily, this is Assistant Special Agent in Charge Mark Gillespie. We joined the US Attorney's Office at the same time and rose through the ranks together. So one night we decide to go out to the movies, and I swear, one minute we were watching Clint Eastwood as a Secret Service agent, and the next, Mark was telling me that he had signed up. Not that I was surprised. I always knew you had superhero tendencies." Hotch grinned at his friend as he was saying this.

"Oh ho! Look who's talking!" Mark laughed heartily before sobering. "It's been too long, Aaron, we should catch up."

"Definitely." Emily saw Hotch glance down at her and tried to signal him with her eyes. She dug her fingers into her palms as the bullet started to pulsate again. Short – short – short – long. Pause. Short – short – short – long. If she had been along, she would have ripped her gown off and brought herself to an orgasm right there and then. But she couldn't. Not only was Hotch's friend there, she was in the fricking White House. Hotch looked at Mark. "All right buddy, shall we do this?"

Mark shook his head even as he started to move to the west. "I cannot believe I'm doing this for you."

Emily was glad that Hotch was holding her hand tightly as they walked along, because her legs were unsteady from the intense sensations that she had been subjected to.

"I owe you big time for this, Gillespie."

"Like you should give me your firstborn child big time." They reached a door leading out into the West Collonade where they had been walking and Mark opened the door. "No one's here at the moment because everyone's at the ball. I've temporarily disabled the security cameras for you. Don't even ask. Close the door behind you and I'll wait in the secretary's office. And Hotchner, there's no time for foreplay. Do your business and get out." Emily was too far gone by now to even feel embarrassment. Where the hell were they going?

A few seconds later, she found herself staring opened mouth at her surroundings. Despite her mother's friendship with the President, she had never been in the Oval Office. Hotch only gave her minute to take in the peach and cream striped wallpaper, the brownish green velour couches and the presidential seal on the carpet before he picked her up and sat her on the desk. Emily gasped. The Resolute Desk.

"Aaron, wh..what? Oh my God, you're not going to do what I think you're going to do are you?" Emily could only sit there in shock as Hotch lifted up her gown to her waist, her clit throbbing desperately between her legs. With a quick motion, he ripped off her now drenched silk panties. He spread her legs and a mere second later, his left hand was drawing the finally quiescent bullet out. Emily whimpered as his fingers accidentally brush against her engorged clit. Just one more touch, just one more. "Pl..please, Aaron, please!" Suddenly reminded of how close she was to a climax that had been so long denied to her, she suddenly stopped caring where they were. "Now, please, I need you right now."

Hotch growled beneath his breath as he scrambled to unfasten his pants. She thought it might have been fuck. And then she no longer cared because he was driving himself into her, hard enough that she slid backwards on the desk. He grabbed her hips and then commenced thrusting furiously into her, so hard that she could feel the head of his penis hit her cervix at each inward stroke.

Not that she cared, because she had started to climax upon his third stroke. She lurched forward and sank her teeth into his shoulder, screaming as she almost blacked out from the force of the orgasm detonating within her. Her heart was racing so fast that she vaguely wondered if it would actually explode while her clit pulsated even harder that the bullet ever had. So dazed was she that she barely noticed when Hotch came, growling low in his throat as he ejaculated into her, his semen bathing her inner walls.

When she finally regained her senses, the first thing she saw a painting of Lady Liberty's torch. "Oh. My. God." Her memory came back with a vengeance. They were in the Oval Office and Hotch had just ravished her within an inch of her life. On the Resolute Desk. With his friend standing right outside.

If she hadn't just experienced the most intense orgasm of her life and had some energy left, even the most minuscule amount, she would have smacked the other half of her heart and soul on the back of the head. "Can we please get out of here before we get caught?" she hissed.

Hotch gave her a grin, looking decidedly rakish due to the hair that her lust driven hands had dragged onto his forehead. Even angry, he could still make her heart clench. She did an internal eye roll. God, she was pathetic. He disengaged their bodies and buttoned himself up before helping her straighten up. He slipped his arm around her waist, steadying her before checking to make sure they had taken everything. Emily grinned when she imagined the look on the President's face upon finding the purple bullet on his blotter.

Ten minutes later they were back in the limo, Hotch having told Emily's mother that she was feeling unwell. Emily sighed as she lay back against the door, propping her bare feet on his lap. She moaned when he commenced massaging her right foot.

"So," he murmured, "still want to skin me alive?"

"I don't know, I'm still thinking about it." She wanted to sound angry, but it was really kind of hard when she felt like her body was made from soft butter. "I should really give you some wicked payback for this, but somehow something tells me that you're already going to be punished enough already."

Sure enough, nine months later, Hotch's much anticipated 'punishment' lay in his arms, her huge, thickly fringed black eyes completely captivating her daddy. Despite her exhaustion, Emily couldn't help laughing at the look of both immense fear mixed with intense joy on her husband's face. Any payback she came up with would never have come close to having a little girl whose obvious beauty was already causing him to have his first panic attack when she was less than an hour old.

"Honey, have you called Mark yet?"

Hotch looked reluctantly away from his precious little girl. "What? Why?"

"I thought you promised him our firstborn." She gave him a teasing smile. To this day, she still couldn't believe they had had sex in the Oval Office. On the President's desk no less. Even though the evidence of it was currently blowing bubbles at her daddy.

"Very funny." He sounded distracted as he smiled down at the baby.

Emily couldn't help herself. Not that she wanted to. "So I thought we could tell Grace about her conception as her eighteenth birthday gift. Maybe give her a model of the White House or something."

Hotch's head shot straight up and he glared at her. "Emily, don't even joke about it."

"What?" She gave him an innocent look. "I thought it'd be nice for her to know what a clever man her daddy is."

"Don't you dare." He must have seen the glint in her eye. He gave a resigned sigh. "All right, what do I have to do to persuade you not to go through with it?"

"Well, I've always wanted to have sex in Times Square just before midnight on New Year's Eve. Think you can arrange that?"

Hope you enjoyed that. It ended much fluffier than I intended : ) Please do go check out fics from other authors for this challenge. You'll see which ones they are in the summary. And do send me a review if you can!