Hey BONES fans! How art thou! Good, I hope! I am still working on the epilogue for the weeks, but i was somewhat challenged (of my own doing) to write this story. I had the idea, and I had promised sleeplessinatlanta that i would do a story if she would be so kind as to put together a little one shot of an FBI gala mentioned in another one of her stories. Breaking all the Rules is the main story. It's good, and worth your time.
So this will be a two-parter, like her gift to me. And it's dedicated to her, for her kindness and encouragement. Especially for Fantasy Week: Brennan Edition. I never would have made it through that without her help. Plus she gave me the idea for sex in public, which led to them buying the bed, so I'll always be grateful for that gem!
Anyways, here's something else you should know about me. I'm firmly in the camp that believes that Brennan is who Dr. Wyatt was talking about when he told Sweets that "one of them is acutely aware of that attraction, struggles with it daily as a matter of fact".
I mean, Brennan IS an anthropologist. She's the one who would be the most aware of her own body and what it wants. She also would be the one to admit to herself that she wants Booth and there is nothing wrong with it. In fact, never once in the entire show has she ever denied it. She might say it's not appropriate, or that Booth doesn't feel the same way, but she has never once indicated that she doesn't want him. But…that word, struggles! Ah, that's such a Booth thing, isn't it? Okay, okay…so maybe 'firmly in the camp' is the wrong phrase. Let's say…I'm 72% in the camp that Brennan is the one Dr. Wyatt was talking about. They weren't talking love, and just from a sexual attraction standpoint…I still think it's Brennan who's the most aware.
Set after Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (so some slightly spoilerish dialogue), and for story purposes, exactly one year after Man in the Outhouse.
Brennan's fingers tightened in the sheets beneath her as the all too familiar dream took over.
'…I assume you are sexually active…'
Booth's lips curled up in a slight smile and his fingers fluttered between them, "I do fine"
I do fine, I do fine, I do fine, I do fine, I do fine, I do fine, I do fine, I do fine, I do fine, I do fine…..
Brennan sat up with a rush at her alarm, pulling off her satin eyemask and groaning toward the clock. The spot she couldn't reach between her shoulders ached, and her inner thighs were tense with another unfulfilled night of tossing and turning, no relief in sight.
With a sigh, she shoved the covers off of her waist and walked to her bathroom, turning on her shower and standing underneath.
"You know" Angela grinned as she looped her arm with Brennan's, both women walking slowly down the street after they left their diner breakfast, "All that talk about sex with Parker really, really started reminding me that this whole celibacy thing is totally crazy, right?"
Brennan frowned, "I'm not sure what it is, but something about your word choice would be what Booth would call 'not right', Ange."
Angela laughed. "True, sweetie…very true. I didn't mean sex with Parker, that would just be gross. I just meant that talking about it, when Parker brought it up, THAT's what's on my mind."
"I see" Brennan nodded and hailed them a cab, "That makes more sense."
Once they settled in the backseat, Angela turned toward her with a conspiratory grin, "So do you think it's true?"
"Do I think what's true, Ange?"
"Do you think Booth's really hard up?" Angela smirked. "I mean, not that I've thought about it…much" she grinned wider, "But…do you think he's getting any?"
Brennan swallowed, her fingers clenching in the skirt of her dress, "He said he does fine, so I'm sure that…"
"Whoa…whoa, what?" Angela stopped her, "When did he say that? When did you talk about sex with Booth? Not that it's not hot, but when I asked him about it, he just said I didn't know anything about his sex life."
Brennan looked out the window before turning to meet Angela's wide and smiling eyes. "It was one year ago", she admitted before looking back out the window. One year ago today, she realized with a shock. Her eyes widened, and she looked back at Angela.
"What, Bren?" Angela smiled curiously, "What's the matter?"
Brennan schooled her features and shook her head, a slight smile curving one side of her mouth, "It's nothing."
"Ange, I mean it…" Brennan's tone brooked no argument, and she smiled again, "It's nothing…nothing at all."
Angela just shrugged and turned away. "Did Parker ask you to be Booth's girlfriend?"
Brennan chuckled and then reached into her purse to pay cab fare, "Yes. Booth grew quite flustered, but when I asked Parker's true intent, he revealed that he just wanted a pool."
"Ah…" Angela chuckled. "Like his friend…"
"Exactly," Brennan smiled and opened her door, "So…I gave them the guest key to my complex's pool and that was the end of that…"
Angela watched as Brennan walked ahead of her back toward the Jeffersonian. "I doubt that" she muttered to herself.
"What's that, Angela?" Brennan turned and waited.
"Oh…it's nothing" Angela smiled to herself, "Nothing at all."
If Brennan noticed her words being thrown back at her, she didn't comment.
"Ah…" Booth opened his hands wide and grinned from the lab platform, "There she is…"
His eyes were wide and smiling, and Brennan cursed the way the dimple in his left cheek made her fingers tremble as she scanned in her ID card. "What do you want, Booth?"
"Hmmm…excuse me, Dr. Negative" he smiled and leaned his narrow hips against the lab table, "I was kind of hoping you might have an ID for me…yeah?" he charmed and waved his file folder in front of her face.
Brennan swatted him away and pulled her labcoat from the rack before putting it on, quickly buttoning up and pulling on gloves, "Not yet, Booth. I told you I'd call you when we had a positive ID."
Booth's smile fell just a bit, and he leaned in closer, the scent of his aftershave making Brennan's stomach clench in anticipation, "Well, sorry, Bones, I just thought maybe I'd get lucky…" he murmured, leaning over her shoulder as she worked, as if he could somehow figure out the identity of their victim.
If Brennan believed in luck, she'd say this was just so, so, so unfair. "Back off, Booth…" she ducked away from him and walked to the other side of the table, "Let me do my work, and I'll call you when I am finished, like I said."
Booth frowned now, "What gives, Bones?"
"Hmmm?" she asked, pretending not to know why he might be confused.
"What's the matter?" Booth put his hands on his hips, "Is something wrong?"
Brennan stood up straight and schooled her features, ignoring the way his long straight tie led directly toward his other potentially long and straight parts, "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine."
His head tilted to the side, "Nah, Bones…come on, what's going on?"
"Nothing, Booth" Brennan insisted, her voice rising slightly in pitch, "I told you…I'm fine."
"Please" Booth scoffed, "People who say they are fine are never really fine. That's just something people say when something's wrong."
Brennan's hands tightened on the edge of the table, but she didn't look up, "Is that true?"
Booth chuckled, "Well, yeah, Bones. It's just one of those things. So why don't you tell me what's wrong."
But Brennan didn't answer. Instead, she met his eyes, "So when someone says they do fine, is that a lie, too?"
Genuine confusion crossed Booth's expression and he pursed his lips, "I suppose so, like…what do you mean, money or something?"
"Something like that" Brennan murmured and went back to work.
Booth eyed her for another moment and then shrugged, "Call me when you have an ID, Bones" he called as he walked down the platform steps and out of the lab.
Brennan sensed that her partner was looking at her in quick glances. As they drove back into town from solving their newest case, his fingertips were tapping against the steering wheel in his usual rhythm, and it was all she could do not to yell at him to Just. Stop. It.
But she knew he'd know something was really wrong with her then, and she'd be forced to explain. Not that she didn't welcome open and frank discussion, quite the contrary. But in this instance, she knew that if she really told Booth what she was thinking, if she actually told him what she was feeling, he'd make some snarky comment or shift uncomfortably in his seat and try to make her feel guilty.
To be fair, though, it wasn't necessarily his fault that with every tap of his blunt fingertips against the steering wheel, she wondered what the same fingers would do to the front clasp of her bra. And when his thumbs stroked up and down in countertime to his beat, she clenched her thighs together to quell the thought of what those same thumbs might do just under the seam of her underwear.
"Dinner, Bones?" he cleared his throat, and for a moment, she thought maybe he'd guessed the train of her thoughts, but when Brennan looked at the sleek line of his profile, she couldn't see any particular nervousness in his countenance.
He turned and met her eyes, and a cocky smile curved up the side of his mouth, and his throat worked just a tiny bit as he swallowed. "Thai?"
"Sure" was all she answered, as she clasped her hands in her lap and turned to look out the window again. In the glass, she could see a slight reflection, and she knew he was still looking at her every once in awhile.
But she wasn't going to look back. Not tonight.
She waited in the SUV while he went inside and paid, carrying out the food and setting it into the backseat before he returned to the driver seat and drove the rest of the way to her apartment. Thankfully, although she did feel a twinge of guilt at the thought, they'd both had a rough night. Yes, they'd caught a bad guy and saved potential lives, but it still didn't prevent her from feeling slightly icky all over. But she was thankful because at least there was a good excuse for her silence. Booth would never know the difference. She would just eat dinner with him, laugh at his jokes whether she got them or not, and then go to bed. Alone. Again.
While he did fine.
They'd settled against her couch and talked about the case, nothing unusual there. And like normal, Brennan watched as Booth fingered his poker chip, as he ran his palms against his long jeans clad legs. If she looked closely enough, she thought she could see the calloused skin at the base of his palms. That part of his hands had haunted many of her dreams as she'd imagined the slightly rough scrape of them across her sensitive nipples. Would he cup her first and then rub? Or would he use his thumbs? Ah…
Pulling in a shuddered breath, wondering at first why this night she couldn't seem to compartmentalize it all, and then knowing that it was the fact that it had been an entire year since she'd slept with a man…it was more than she could take. Brennan gathered up her half empty plate and walked to the kitchen.
She bit her lip as she tossed her uneaten food down her sink, hoping Booth would just drop it, guessing that he wouldn't. but she'd never expected to feel his warm palm press oh right there, right against the small of her back. And all of a sudden, he was right there.
"Bones…listen. I know something's up. You can tell me. You can tell me anything."
Brennan turned her face and met his eyes, and he nodded encouragingly, the side of his hand rubbing infinitesimally against the top line of her pants.
"What is it, Bones?"
Brennan turned toward him, causing his hand to fall away from her back. She cursed the sense of loss she felt, and then knew that it was time. She had to know; otherwise she was liable to lose even more sleep. "I…" she opened her mouth to answer him. Words failed her for just a moment, but then she told the truth, the one thing she always had, what she always needed. "I need to know."
Booth paused, and his head tilted to the side just a fraction. "You need to know what?"
"I need to know…" she repeated, moving to stand very close to him. She didn't touch him at all, just kept her eyes locked with his, hoping his gut wouldn't fail him now.
The silence was sucked from between them, and all she could do was try to breathe in, concentrating on the hummingbird pitch of friction warming between them. He wasn't backing away; that was probably a good sign.
But Brennan had thought too soon, because in the next second, he had taken a step back, a slight smirk on the side of his face. "Good one, Bones."
She swallowed and clenched her jaw, ignoring his joke for the sake of her own pride. Turning back to the sink, she wrenched on the water, scrubbing her plate for much longer than it needed.
A part of her hoped that when she turned around, he'd be gone. Then at least she'd have an answer. But when she shut off the water, much more methodical, and turned, he was standing there, his hands in his pockets, a question in his eyes.
Brennan supposed she owed him an explanation, "I need to know. Just once. The not knowing is making me lose sleep. I find it hard to concentrate on our professional tasks. And beyond that…"
When she trailed off, Booth's stance widened just an inch, and his hips rocked forward without his control. She suspected he didn't even know he'd done it; it was just a psychosomatic reaction to their conversation.
"Beyond that…" she continued, hoping that by making it personal, he might give in. "Personally…I want to know."
His left eyebrow cocked at that, and his hands left his pockets as his arms crossed over his chest. "It doesn't work that way, Bones."
Anger rose up in her at his dismissal. "Well…why not?" She stepped past him and grabbed a towel from her fridge door, wiping her wet hands before tossing the towel to her counter. "Why can't it work that way?"
"Because…" Booth grabbed onto her elbow when she went to walk past him again. Brennan froze and met his eyes, and she saw a flicker of smolder there. "Because once we know, then…we know."
She wrenched her arm free and poked his chest. Emotions unlike she'd ever experienced slid to the surface quicker than she could anticipate, and before she could close that lid and forget about it, she opened her mouth. "Not knowing is worse. How can anything be worse than not knowing? I've spent my entire adult life trying to learn things, and the one thing I can't learn is standing right here in my kitchen, telling me I can't. I can't? I have to…" she poked him again, and then stepped back.
Her entire chest burned with…pure unadulterated emotion. "But fine. FINE! You want to 'do fine', then go right ahead, Booth. See if I care. I'm tired of waiting. A whole year I've waited, and learned all the right things to say and do, for someday, and someone. But you never noticed. You're too busy doing fine. Well that's fine by me. But Booth, not knowing…it's worse. It's worse than fine."
She could see that he knew exactly what she was talking about. What had started out that morning as a little bickering session now came back full force, and in his eyes, she could see that he was remembering that night, a year ago. Maybe it was the Thai food again that triggered it, maybe it was the date, but she knew she couldn't wait any more.
"I need to know, Booth."
Suddenly, he turned and walked out of the kitchen, toward the front door. He made it as far as her couch, and paused, his back to her, his hand clenching the back of the sofa cushions. "You need to think, here, Bones" he rasped. "Because I don't think you've thought this through. Knowing is worse. Because once you know, you can't unknow it. No matter how hard you try. And look…" he turned, and she knew he was going to try to make her see. "We only get one first time, and when that happens, it needs to be special, not because…"
"What did you say?" she asked as she moved to the doorway between the kitchen and the living room.
He didn't guess her meaning and just nodded. "Good, you understand. Look Bones, I'm not saying this is easy, but--"
"Did you say, when?"
He blinked, and then paused before rubbing his palm over his chest for a moment as his eyes went blank and then dark with understanding. "Bones…"
Brennan moved to stand in front of him. "You said when. When. You're waiting for something, for some moment. But…why? Why are we waiting, when we could know?"
It wasn't even about sex anymore, Brennan admitted to herself. It was about learning. Learning the shape of his back where it hit his waist. Learning what he tasted like, right at the base of his throat. Learning what it would take to make him gasp out her first name. Learning the limit to his—
She blinked, thinking she'd imagined the whispered reply, but when she met his eyes, she saw her answer.
"Once," he added, and she nodded.
"Once. So we'll know."
They stared at one another for long moments, sizing each other up. In Brennan's mind, she felt the pleasurable sensation of inquiry begin at the back of her neck, moving toward the front of her brain. She carefully reached out in front of her and settled her fingers against his stomach. Other than the slight movement of his muscles underneath the cotton of his shirt, he was immovable.
Anxious to learn all there was to know about his body, Brennan started with the bottom button and worked her way up to where the shirt was already open against his strong neck. For a moment, she just stared at his chest, the six inch gap of his warm dark skin in contrast to his perfectly black shirt. Her hands were still clutching the fabric near his neck, and she moved it back further, stepping forward to slide his shirt over his shoulders. Brennan couldn't help but inhale a deep breath at the scent of his bare skin. She'd seen him like this, years ago, but he'd belonged to someone else then.
When she looked up, she saw that his eyes had never left her face, and her lips parted at the way his nostrils flared in interest. As her hands clutched his shirt against his strong shoulders, she leaned in further, stepping up to her tiptoes to press her mouth against his. But at the last moment, he turned away, pulling back his gaze and face from hers.
Brennan stood in shock for a second before moving back. "You're compartmentalizing."
There was no accusation in her tone, merely observation. His cheek twitched in half of a sad smile. "You understand, right?"
She felt a twinge in her lower belly at his raspy tone, the way he was begging her to undertand, and she nodded. She did understand. And she realized in that moment that he was doing this for her. He was letting her do this.
So she could know.
It made her want to honor him, to reward him for giving what he wanted to keep. For letting her know what he wanted to ignore.
Brennan stepped behind him to allow herself to gain composure, to allow them both the freedom from each other's gaze. His arms went slack as she pulled his shirt all the way off of his body. She folded it carefully against the back of her couch, and then gently let her hands rest against his spine. He stiffened a bit, and she pulled back. But his body seemed to lean back imperceptibly, and she took that as a sign to continue.
Standing behind him afforded her the chance to examine him in all of his magnitude. Clothed, Booth was an impressive specimen, but without his shirt on, she could see each and every muscle in his back and arms. Her fingertips skated against his skin, over and to the side to trace each rib under solid muscle. There were scars there, ones she didn't know anything about. And her mind raced with the new information. He was tan, even though she'd never really seen him without a shirt on, even when it was so hot in the summer he'd once told her he could fry an egg against the hood of his car. She smiled at that and let her thumbs massage gently down the length of his spine, not missing the way his buttocks clenched in aroused reaction. "You really do have amazing musculature, Booth. In fact, I'd say it's the most impressive I've ever seen on a male form before. You should--"
"—No talking…" his whispered request was gruff and harsh, velvety and hoarse as he begged her. "Please. Just...I can't take it..."
She nodded, even though he couldn't see her. But she would just keep her thoughts to her own mind.
Brennan ran her hands more firmly against his back and then slid them around to trace his chest and stomach. Wanting a better view, she walked around to face him, letting her fingers settle in the grooves between his abdominal muscles. A smile ghosted her lips at his remarkable structure and the play of his muscles under her touch. Her hands slid up to cup against his nipples for a second, then skated over them. She ignored his groan, but catalogued it away as she cupped his shoulders again, this time without his shirt in the way. He'd only prevented her from kissing his mouth, and she took a chance, leaning in to press her lips against the side of his neck. She felt his skin tighten as he swallowed, but he didn't say anything, and instead just widened his stance as she began to gently kiss the base of his throat, running the tip of her tongue against his firm jawline. Oh, he was so gorgeous.
When she nuzzled the tip of her nose just underneath his right ear, his hips shot forward, and Brennan paused. She pulled back and met his eyes, noticing the flush against his cheeks. Realizing she'd just discovered one of his erogenous zones, she felt a moment of hesitation. There was vulnerability in his eyes, and she began to comprehend what he meant about knowing and unknowing. She would always know that about him now. And it made her wonder who else knew that about him. This was a make or break moment, and if he pulled back, she'd have no choice but to let him.
But he didn't pull back. Instead, his eyes fluttered shut and then reopened, almost in a challenge. Brennan let go of his shoulders and let her hands settle against the buckle of his pants. It released quickly and easily, much more so than she'd ever imagined, and she set it against his shirt on her couch. Her nimble fingers slowly lowered the zipper of his pants, and she could hear the way he was pulling in his breath through his nose; she could see the way his chest was expanding as he inhaled as deep as he could.
Bending to her knees, she worked his pants down his legs. His hands shot out to the couch behind him for balance as she lifted one foot and then the other to remove his jeans completely off of his body. For a moment, Brennan just stared at his feet.
She couldn't formulate a hypothesis on why, but for some reason, the sight of Booth's feet in his brightly striped socks gave her pause. She began to see again what he meant about not being able to unknow. His socks just seemed so…intimate, more intimate than anything she'd done that evening. She traced her index fingers against the stripes, and her throat closed a small portion. This was Booth.
He may have had a cramp, or maybe he was ticklish, she didn't know. But the arch of his left foot retracted when she ran her fingernail against his toes, and Brennan suspended her movement for a second before she let her hands move up to just below his calf muscle. She tucked her thumbs below his sock line, feeling the crisp leg hair there and then tugged down, first one sock, and then the other. She stared at them in her hands in silence before solemnly folding them together, setting them near her side.
She heard Booth pull in a deep sigh, and wondered what he was thinking. But she was too shy to meet his eyes. She wasn't sure what she would find there, and to be honest, she wasn't sure what he'd be able to see in her gaze as well.
Instead, Brennan ran her hands up the backs of his lower legs, caressing his skin, learning the way his knees buckled a bit as she thumbed his kneecaps. Her fingers trailed through his leg hair up his warm thighs until they reached the edge of his boxer shorts. She'd seen him in loose shorts before, but tonight he was wearing soft cotton boxers that molded to his thighs and bottom. Brennan sat up higher on her knees until her face was level with his waist. The dark blue material was just so…normal that once again Brennan hesitated. But her curiousity won out, and she nudged his underwear down his hips and legs, leaning down again to pull them off of his feet. Once she set them by his socks, she straightened.
She'd promised him she wouldn't talk, but she couldn't prevent the breathy "Oh…" that escaped her lips at the sight of him.
He was perfect. Better than she'd ever imagined, and she'd imagined a lot. But somehow, he was just more Booth than she'd dreamed.
His length was long and…steady. Not a word she'd ever used to describe male anatomy before, but here it was accurate. His physical interest in her and her touch was obvious in the way his arousal was stretched toward her. Brennan let her fingers smooth over his perfectly straightened shaft, and he groaned too, the sound rising from deep in his chest. When she lightened her touch and fondled him, his hips shifted. "Don't tease me."
She met his eyes then, for the first time in awhile and saw that they were almost glazed over with restraint. Desire rushed over her, and she forgot her clinical approach.
"Don't tease me" he repeated. "No teasing, and no talking. Please."
Brennan swallowed and bit her bottom lip as she looked back to the proof of his desire for her. She leaned in and rested her lips against his swollen head. A soft whimper escaped her lips at his taste, and she couldn't help but open her mouth around him, pulling him inside of her. Where she'd meant to go slow and learn, now she was caught up in the firestorm of want. She took him inside her mouth, as deep as he could go and then pulled him out slowly, studying his reactions, learning his natural rhythm and taste, slowly repeating the motion until his hand clenched in her hair.
"Enough" he growled, and she complied, pulling off of him entirely and standing up in front of him.
His hand was still caught in a few strands of her hair, near her neck, and Brennan could barely resist resting her face in his palm. Instead, she pulled his fingers into hers and then took a step back. Once he took a following step, she turned and led the way back to her bedroom. It was dark, but she knew where she was going. She led him to her bed and motioned for him to lie down. He did, and she would almost swear that the moonlight peeking through her curtains seemed to settle on him, as if all the light in the world was attracted to him.
It was irrational, but at the moment, seeing his perfectly lean and muscled form against her bedspread, she couldn't argue. Instead, she reached for her own shirt's hem and pulled, lifting the material over her head. A small flicker of satisfaction coursed over her chest when she saw his fingers tighten against his sides. She quickly removed her pants as well, leaving them in a dainty heap at the side of her bed. She left her bra and panties on as she placed one knee on her bed, and then the other, before straddling his body. Booth's eyes grew hooded and darker still as she settled her hands against his chest. He didn't look away though, even as she ran her fingers down his stomach to wrap firmly around his erection. His hips lifted her off of the bed, and she used the leverage in her knees to match his rhythm as he rose and fell under her ministrations. Even though she'd never had sex with him before, she could sense that he was close to orgasm, and so she stilled her movements, relishing in the sweet groan that rose from his chest passed his lips.
Taking a moment to catalogue her own reaction, Brennan realized that in her quest to learn Booth's body, she'd grown quite aroused herself. An emptiness settled between her thighs, and her nipples tingled at the thought of his long length embedded up into her. Biting her lip, she sat back against his legs and then removed her panties, tossing them over the side of her bed. Keeping him firmly in her grasp at the base of his erection, she slowly lowered herself, inch by perfect inch down his long and solid warmth.
For one of the first times that evening, he touched her. Booth settled his hands against her hips, anchoring her as she began to move. But it was only a moment before she felt that all too familiar fluttering in her womb. She met his gaze in surprise, and then closed her eyes as she tried to catalogue everything she was feeling, coinciding with the facts. Her partner, Seeley Booth, was under her. Inside of her. With her.
The trembling began at the base of her spine and then rushed to her clit before spreading up her chest, tightening her breasts in their silken confines. Her chest and throat warmed, and her belly ignited as her orgasm rushed in and then flowed out in waves of pure feeling unlike anything she'd ever experienced. A whimper escaped her lips and her fingernails sank into the smooth skin of his stomach. She heard him hiss, but other than that, there was no reaction from him, except the smooth throb of his penis inside of her, still hard and long and snugged up against the end of her walls.
How he'd managed not to orgasm, Brennan didn't know, but as her breath began to settle, she opened her eyes and saw that he was right on the edge. She rolled to her side, and he did the same, keeping them joined in an impressive move. Her mind was muddled, but she tried to piece each new part of information that was available to her.
"Go ahead" she encouraged, as they completed their roll, leaving her on her back, below him, the length of him still buried deep. He pulled out of her until just the tip of him was resting at her entrance, and for a moment, she thought he was going to back away and leave her. A slight and irrational panic settled in her mind, but then he slid forward, a harsh struggle for breath leaving his lips as he set up a rhythm.
Brennan had recovered from her own orgasm and could now watch him, examining his actions. His tempo quickened and then his knees hit the mattress between hers as he sank all the way into her and settled there, belly to belly. He didn't pull out and in as much as just rock his hips into hers, massaging her clit and pubic bone with his groin. The sensation was immeasurable and her eyes locked with his as his jaw worked back and forth. His elbows settled on either side of her shoulders, and Brennan was reminded at just how big he was. All over.
She couldn't see anything but him looming over her, dark and good. He was just so…steady. In every area of her life. She needed him, and for years it pained her to admit she needed anything. But he was always around. And now he was with her, and she knew…..
Steady in, steady out. Steady.
But then he was panting, and he froze before sinking deeper than she'd thought possible, his whole body a tight coil ready to spring. And then it did, and she felt him come inside of her. The sensation, combined with the way he'd collapsed against her, his face pressed to the side of her neck caused a fluttering in her chest that had nothing to do with academia and everything to do with…heart.
He sighed in her ear, and then she felt it.
The brush of his lips against her skin there. And then again. Just below her ear. Then down her neck. His mouth moved in featherlike strokes against the skin of her throat, over her jawline.
Yes…she wanted to encourage him. Do this. Please do this.
She needed him to do this, to learn her as she'd learned him. His softening length fell from her as he pulled back ,and she whimpered. Booth began to suckle gently at the spot where her shoulder met her arm, and Brennan let her fingers skate over his back, enjoying his cool skin against her warmth. His own hands settled against her waist, as his lips moved downward. They met over her chest, and he used his fingers to deftly unfasten the front clasp of her bra. The reality was so much more than her imagination, and when he brushed away the fabric, she leaned forward, allowing him to pull her bra off of her body and let it flutter to the floor near her bed. Now it was his turn to break the rules as a sharp "Oh yes" left his lips, so silent she was sure she must have imagined it.
But imagination took over as his lips settled against her breast.
Brennan lifted her hands over her head as Booth began to kiss her. And when his lips settled over her nipple, beginning a soft suction, she threaded her fingers through his hair, keeping him in place. Over and over, he moved from one breast to the other, content to kiss her, never letting her arousal spike too high. When a soft whimper escaped her lips, he took the cue and began kissing her belly, tracing each of her ribs with his fingertips.
As Booth kissed around her belly button, he allowed his hands to sneak back up and cup her breasts, and Brennan soaked in the knowledge that she had been right about the callouses at the base of his palms. They were exquisite against the softness of her skin. She'd never felt so soft, except in comparison to the rough and gentle touch of the proof of his daily work.
He settled between her thighs and nudged them apart with his shoulders. His lips ghosted around her folds, never providing pressure, just teasing and learning her reactions to him. She had no sense of keeping anything from him, and opened her hips to him, for him. He accepted and with the tip of his tongue, he tasted her. They both froze then, in an instant of perfect symbiosis, and then with mutual sighs, she relaxed, and he indulged.
It had been an entire year since a man had been the source of her satisfaction, and even longer since she'd had more than one orgasm in bed, but she was honing in on her second, the culmination of her pleasure riding in on the soft wave of his tongue, the sweet pressure of his lips against her core. Just as she was about to come, he rose above her, sliding deep inside of her once more.
"Booth!" She couldn't help but gasp his name at the perfect way he seemed to know her, the perfect way his long legs tangled with hers.
He paused, and then she noticed he was looking at her mouth. The tip of her tongue brushed against her bottom lip, and then with an almost sad sigh, he kissed her.
Her hands clenched his head to hers as she kissed him back, their lips not dueling, but giving and receiving, just as their lower bodies did the same.
Brennan felt the rough scrape of his chin against hers, and she knew later he'd feel bad about it. She felt the clasp of his hand against her hip as he pulled her up to meet his thrusts, and knew he'd feel bad about the bruise he might leave there. She felt his hands cup the backs of her thighs, even as he hitched her legs around his waist, to just this much past the point of comfort, and knew he'd regret it. But as he swiveled his hips and set them on a course for mutual orgasm, she couldn't think anymore, except about the inexorable thrusting between her legs. She'd never believed in fate or chance or karma or luck or any of that, but as she felt the flowering and shattering of her climax, clenching and releasing around Booth even as his lips broke free from hers as he arched his back, his throat working vigorously as he came with her. "BONES!"
The sound from his lips was so beautiful to her, and combined with the force of her orgasm, she felt tears sting in the backs of her eyes. Thankfully, they stayed put, even as Booth, her partner, slowed his movements, bringing her legs back to settle against the mattress.
She was thankful it was dark though, because when he stilled and met her eyes, the sadness she saw there caused her chest to clench, and the tears threatened even further.
And in that moment, she knew he'd been right.
Knowing was worse.
Stay tuned for part two, which is Booth's point of view of the same night.