Feral Love | By : Anansay Category: CSI > General Views: 6441 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
TITLE: Feral Love
AUTHOR: Anansay
SUMMARY: When pushed to a point, Grissom can – and sometimes does – react.
RATING: NC-17
SPOILERS:
AUTHOR’S NOTES: First off, I suck at endings. If anyone has any ideas on how this could have ended better/neater, by all means, let me know. How else does a writer grow then with feedback, right? Just make it nice, I hurt easily. <G>
Secondly, I wanted to write something rough and testosterone-y. I’m not quite sure HOW Grissom would be in the bedroom—who knows, right? So if this seems OOC to you, just chalk it up to different perspectives on the same character. Thank you.
~*~
Feral Love
By Anansay
June 23, 2004
~*~
By nature, Grissom was not a man of action. When forced to a point, he could—and would—react with acute intensity. This was one of those times, when action ran ahead of thought and he found himself pinning Sara to his door.
Her completely shocked expression hit him full force with the sudden insight of his actions. But just as he was about to pull away, Sara licked her lips—a long slow seductive wipe of tongue across parched lips. And Grissom groaned.
His eyes flashed with renewed fervour and bore into hers with an intensity she’d never seen before. They blazed a ice blue fire and his breath was the heat as it caressed her face with every huff.
He was angry. And so was she.
Her eyes wandered over his face, her lips tilting in a mischievous smirk as she leaned forward and captured his lips, sucking and nibbling on the bottom one. His grunt was all she needed to surge forward and lose herself in him, plunging her tongue deep into his mouth.
His response was to push back, forcing his body against hers until she couldn’t move anymore. His head jerked back and he stared at her, gasping and licking his lips like some ravenous beast about to plunder her.
"Gris," she breathed, "if you’re going to do something, do it already."
His eyes raked over her face and before she could register anything, he was ravaging her lips, angry thrusts of his tongue in her mouth, his hands clenching around her wrists. Her fingers started to tingle. She didn’t care, only pushed herself against him, needing to feel more of him and harder.
Her leg wrapped around his and for the first time she felt his arousal, hot and hard against her throbbing sex. She moaned.
He groaned and the kiss becaI>moI>more.
Letting her hands go he grabbed her face, yanking his away to stare into her eyes. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded, his voice gruff and husky. "I can’t… I can’t stop myself. This is what you do to me."
"Good." She leaned in again.
He leaned back. "No, not good."
"Do you want me?" Her habroubrought his hips to her and she moved against him.
Grissom groaned again and closed his eyes. "God you know I do."
"Then take me. Now."
"I—"
"—can," she finished for him.
Another groan and the air disappeared between them as he kissed her again and ground himself against her.
Sara hissed and tilted her head back as his mouth descended on her neck, sucking voraciously at the tender flesh. As one they moved, neither Grissom pulling nor Sara pushing. Past the kitchen, around the coffee table, down the darkened hall to the end. Their clothes were discarded in a flourish of lust and they were on his bed, rolling around like some lust-filled teenagers, grunting and groaning and gasping.
He held himself above her, her leg resting on his hip and stared into her eyes. "Are you sure?"
"You’re asking me this now?"
"Yes. I need to know. I can’t go back."
"I don’t want to go back."
"Good."
He dropped to his elbows, grabbed her shoulders and heaved forward, impaling her on him in one long smooth grunting stroke.
And everything stopped.
Deeply imbedded was he, stretching her almost painfully, she grasped his shoulders, her eyes closing and her head pushing into the pillow, a long slow sigh drifting from her parted lips. "Yesssss…"
With slow movements he rocked his lips, sliding his length in and out of her, their wetness making little sucking sounds between them. Like a massage, soft and sensual he moved within her, stroking her to a mildly growing crescendo of shuddering gasps and moans.
Muttered syllables scattered in between muddled gibberish but one word stood out and caused an almost painful surge of lust in his gut and he thrust hard then, his body slapping against hers. She grunted and her fingers dug into his hips as she tugged him to her again and again.
His name—his given name—tumbled from her lips in gasps as she tightened around him, her tongue snaking out to wet parched lips and then she bucked and clenched. Among her choked and sputtered sounds was his own low growl as he lost himself in her completely, his arms pulling her to him fiercely as his own orgasm tore through him, and into her.
Grissom wasn’t a man of action, but when pushed to a point, he acted.
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