He set me down on the floor and watched as I started peeling off my sodden clothes, as I admired his incredible torso and arms. I felt a jolt join the ache that had grown in my core as he shot me a wicked grin, then bent to peel his pants and shorts off. Booth's God, he was perfect.
"Now, where were we," he said, advancing on me as I hopped up on the bed and pushed the covers off all the way.
"Well, I replied, reaching for him, "I believe you were sucking on my neck, and I was about to respond in kind."
He laughed, and jumped on top of me, rolling until I was straddling him and he'd pulled me down so he could suck again at my neck. "Right there," I confirmed, then proceeded to kiss and nip my way down his throat and across his chest as his hands made their way up my sides to cup my breasts in his palms. His hands on me were electric, a shock jolting a gasp from me as his calloused fingers brushed over my nipples.
One hand came up to the back of my head, pulling me forward until he took one breast in his mouth. My gasped "Booth" was met with his own vibrating growl as his tongue and his teeth kneaded the flesh of my breast, even as the hand still at my other breast dropped away. I'd braced my arms under me as he first pulled me on top of him, a needed precaution. When he tugged at me so he could latch onto my breasts, my hips came into contact with his and his large, hot erection. The contact was jolting. Now as he let go of my breast with his hand, his mouth continuing to lave the other with kisses, his other hand stroked an inexorable trail to my core, pushing my hips up and away from him only as long as it took his fingers to find my center.
I like being on top. It means more control of my own pleasure, usually. But as his hot fingers dragged across my folds for the first time, I gasped at the wash of sensation that shot through me. When his fingers entered me, firmly and fully but not at all forcefully, I couldn't help but moan "Booth" at the shock of it. His thumb caressed my clitoris in response, dragging another gasp from me as his mouth increased its suction on my breast.
I don't know how long he kept at it. His fingers delving and twisting in me, stroking my G-spot and his thumb at my throbbing clitoris-- his mouth moving from one breast to another as I whimpered at what he was doing to me. My eyes closed as I tried to concentrate on not letting my limbs buckle under me. So much for maintaining control. The tension he stoked in me was painful and exquisite all at once, and I was trembling with the need for release, even as I was beyond coherently begging for it. I cried out loudly at one particularly deft curl of his fingers, eliciting a laugh against the skin of my breasts, where he was still nipping at me. He let go then, tugging my head down to his mouth as he shifted under me, kissing me as his tongue began to thrust in his mouth to the rhythm his fingers began below. I moaned into his mouth, then shrieked as his thumb firmly passed over my bundle of nerves, my release piercing me. I collapsed against him, and he let go of my mouth as I whimpered into his neck.
"That's what you get for laughing at me in the shower," he said, withdrawing his fingers from my still fluttering walls.
"What do I get for tickling you, then?" I managed, my voice raspy from shrieking my climax.
He rolled, his hands at my hips, until I was under him, and sheathed himself fully in one smooth, incredible stroke, groaning "This," and then "Bones" as he finished entering my, his hips flush with mine as he filled me.
"Oh God! Booth!" I called, as the jolt of his heat and his girth took me, my eyes snapping open with the shock of the sense of completion. When I looked back at him, he had the same shocked look on his face, gasping "Sweet Jesus, Temperance," as I shifted to wrap my legs around him. I pulled him down for a kiss, still staring back at him as my brain tried to grasp how things had just shifted, but as our lips met again, my last rational thoughts passed from me, and each of our bodies took over.
We moved like a perfectly matched set-- the tension he'd just released in me built up again. I reveled in the shifting firmness of his muscles under my hands as I grasped him, his weight behind each thrust perfectly measured as I met him and urged him on with my panting gasps of his name. I was so heated I thought I would explode, so breathless I thought I might faint, and judging by his panting moans of "Bones," and "Temperance," so was he. I strove with him, but my orgasm surprised me, a shattering climax that forced a shrieked "Seeley," from me, though I'd never called him by that name before. It seemed endless, the forceful spasms taking control as my hips ground into his while my back arched away from him into the bed.
My contractions around him were too sweet to be painful, but they walked that fine line, one he obliterated as he lost control, one hand sliding under my hips to hold me to him as his thrusts became erratic and forceful. His grunted "Oh, Jesus, fuck, Bones," husked in my ear made me shudder again, and I grasped at his hips to pull him hard into me.
"Seeley," I moaned, as I felt myself coiling again, the sight of his eyes closed and jaw clenched in ecstatic concentration drawing me further to another release. I moaned as he shifted, flicking me with his fingers as the hand at my hips moved to bring my chest into his. I clung to him as lightning shot again through me, vaguely aware through my screaming of his thickening inside me, followed by a hot burst, his own wordless shout joining my own.
He collapsed on top of me, and we lay there, panting and sweating, as my walls still fluttered to his small continuing pulses. My heart was hammering in my chest, his own pounding atop mine, and before I could wonder what might happen next, he made further planning unnecessary. "My God, woman, I love you," he said, pushing up on one elbow to look at me. "And don't you deny that you do, too."
"Wasn't planning on it," I rasped, warmth flooding me all over again.
"Good," he responded. I lifted my head off the bed long enough to press a soft kiss to his lips, then flopped back, all muscle control fled for the moment. He laughed as he flopped to my side, looping his arms around me, one leg pulling my lower half under his.
"Remind me to tickle you again soon," I murmured, my eyes closing of their own accord.
"My pleasure," he chuckled, settling his head on my chest.
"Mmm. Mine too," I purred. I felt sleep steal over me as his chest rumbled with laughter beside me.
- - - - -
I woke sometime later to him combing his fingers through my hair, his other hand clasped at the small of my back. During the night, we'd turned so that I now lay atop him, his arms wrapped securely around me as my head lay on his chest.
"Hi," he said softly as I opened my eyes to see him staring down at me.
"Hello there," I responded, my voice husky and low. "Fancy meeting you here."
He smiled wickedly. "I fancy meeting you here a lot, actually."
"I think I can arrange that," I smiled back.
"No regrets?" he said, then, seriously.
"Never," I replied, trying to put as much truth into that one word as I could.
"Then I have something for you," he said, kissing my forehead before sliding out of the bed. He paced over to his discarded jeans, rooting in the pockets until he found what he was looking for. His hand closed around it, he slid back into bed and pulled me back onto him as he looked searchingly at me. I met his gaze, and he opened his hand, to show me what lay inside.
It was the earrings, transformed, into a complementary, but not matching pair of rings. The loops between each earring segment had been removed, and the links heated and hammered together, yet somehow the basic forms and designs were still present. The larger, man's ring, had been heated and hammered more, the design of the original flattened and widened until the metal melded together into a long enough band to fit what I guess was Booth's ring finger. The smaller, woman's ring was closer to the original design, but still changed by the heat and the hammering. I could tell it would fit perfectly.
"You said I could do what I liked with them, so I did," he said, as I looked at the two rings side by side in his palm. I marveled at the workmanship-- the old forms preserved, and yet new ones emerging from old materials. I looked back at him, stunned, as he continued to speak. "You're my family, Bones. Think of it as a tangible reminder that as long as we each have one, we'll each always be thinking of the other, and will always come for each other in the end. I'm not asking you to marry me, there's more than one kind of family, but I am asking you to stop being just my partner, and let me be your family, too."
"Yes," I managed, around the lump in my throat.
"Good," he replied, our lips sealing then on the promise. I put his ring on him, and he put mine on me, and we each pulled close again to the other. Before he'd returned the earring to me that first time, I'd said, "Objects have no intrinsic power. A person's future does not depend on some...thing. Things are just things. They do not have magical meaning or powers." I was wrong. Both our actions were invested in those earrings, fleeting deeds hammered into tangible things, heated risks taken for love molded into metallic reminders. Each one's risk for the other was now a promise, a magical power to look into the future and know there was at least something to be sure of. Each other.