Author's Note: So uh. This is my first attempt at writing smut, and I'll be the first to say it's a bit too mechanical, but I figure that I'm just going to let this be my first try, and next time I'll try not to be so mechanical.

Also, shout outs to SussiRay & phoebe9509 who are both incredibly encouraging, and incredible authors.

This story was done with the inspiration from The Smut Club's Dirty Song Prompt List; Funeral of a Good Girl by Bif Naked (lyrics are included in the story).


A blur of red lace, porcelain skin, and raven hair raced through the apartment of one Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss.

On a normal day, the woman would be dressed in a pair of dark jeans, fatigues, or slacks, a simple shirt or blouse, and sometimes a blazer over that, but tonight was an exception. Tonight, she had a date. And though she wasn't certain what would happen after the date or where it would lead, she had wanted to be prepared. So, just in case, she'd dressed up to the nines... and that was only her undergarments. The dress she'd chosen for the evening was still hanging up on the back of the door to her walk-in closet as she got ready. It was perfect for what she hoped to accomplish for the evening, and she wasn't going to risk getting makeup or something else on it.

Emily Prentiss was not normally one who would sleep with a man on their first date. Of course, that wasn't to say it hadn't happened before... it had. Not often, but in her almost twenty years of dating, it had definitely happened. She wasn't necessarily planning on this evening being one of those times, but... well, truthfully, it had been a long case, a long week, and an even longer year (which coincidently was the last time she'd gotten any), and she just wanted to forget about it all. Between the hell that happened in Canada, the epic disaster that was Foyet, Haley's funeral, the aftermath, Strauss breathing down their necks, the car accident from the Schrader case, then getting hit by another car only a couple months later... not to mention everything that happened in between that. It was exhausting just thinking about it... she wasn't sure how she'd managed to live through it.

The already crazy random hours that her job required, plus all the emotional (and sometimes physical) turmoil involved coupled with being in love with one's untouchable supervisor really didn't do much for her personal life (and don't even get her started on her sex life). So, when the attractive Detective Max Hargrove had gone out of his way to track her down two weeks after meeting her during their last local case, she decided it was time for her to try and move on. Hotch would never see her for more than a valued employee and maybe, possibly a friend. She'd decided to accept that, and give Detective Hargrove a chance... and if everything went well, then just maybe the night wouldn't end after dinner.

Maybe. There was a strong chance that the same guilt that seemed to attack her whenever she tried to date other men would kick in by then; the guilt that she was betraying her feelings to Hotch. Those feelings had shown up for a little over the last year. But being with him wasn't an option. As much as she was certain he didn't have the same feelings for her, she was absolutely certain that he wouldn't cross that line of superior-subordinate in their relationship. The logical part of her brain had tried to shove that guilt away, and when that hadn't worked well, that was the other half of the point of this date; to try and get past those feelings. So, using her phenomenal compartmentalization skills, she shoved those Hotch-loving thoughts back into their little box where they belonged, and continued on getting ready.

Skidding to a halt at the end of her bed, she chanced a glance at her alarm clock. 6:12. Oh. Well then. She could stop rushing around then. Her date wasn't due to pick her up until 7:45; apparently he'd had a reservation made for the two of them for 8. She grinned, pulling her iPod off the docking port on her nightstand, attached it to the thin strap of her underwear, and putting her earphones in. She settled on a random playlist and allowed her hips to move to whatever beat came on.

Once she was set up, she went to the bathroom to double check her make-up and hair, both done already, and grinned. Now what? She wasn't going to risk doing something stupid to her dress, so there was no way she was actually putting it on until about 7:30. That left her with over an hour until she had to complete the last step in getting ready. So what else was it that she needed to get done? Oh, right! Laundry! As soon as she'd gotten home, she'd thrown everything from her ready-bag into the wash, and had since put it in the dryer. The load would be finished by now, and she had plenty of time to get it folded.

With that thought, she descended the stairs to the first floor of her condo, grinning as she glanced out the window. Emily wasn't exactly an exhibitionist about her body, but her condo was high enough up with no buildings straight across from her side that she had no qualms about walking around her own home in her underwear- no one could possibly see her. In fact, it almost gave her a secret thrill to walk around like that. It was also a tiny way of rebelling against her job... one that should be driving her to hyper-vigilance, but instead she was dancing down her hallway in her undergarments. After disappearing around a corner close to the entryway of her apartment for a moment or two, she reappeared with a laundry basket in front of her.

When she reached the living room, she stopped and spread the clothes out on the sofa, her body facing toward the window. Taking one piece at a time, she began folding the garments, still shaking her body and singing along to the music playing in her ears. She was definitely one to really get into the music- closing her eyes and dancing away as it continued to play.

SSAIC Aaron Hotchner had been on his way out when he passed the trio of desks that belonged to the agents on his team. A strange buzzing sound had him pause. He glanced around, looking for the owner of the phone before he picked up the offending object from Prentiss's desk. The front screen said '4 New Messages'. Huh. He was certain that she'd left about two hours ago, after having popped her head into his office to say 'Goodnight'. She must've forgotten her phone... which had the potential to be disastrous; especially if they got a case and no one could get in contact with her. Pocketing the phone, he decided he'd drop it off at her place on his way home. It was on his way... Kind of.

He was secretly delighted to see her again this evening. It was no secret to himself (and apparently not to David Rossi either considering the lecture he'd been given earlier this week) that the feelings he was beginning to develop for the brunette were more than platonic. He wasn't sure exactly when it had happened, but it had. He'd always found her beautiful, but she was getting to the point of irresistible in his mind. Well, that's not entirely true. She already was to the point of irresistible.

Especially after that supply closet incident last week.

What was the supply closet incident?

Last Tuesday afternoon, after attempting to use almost eight different pens and subsequently throwing them across the room in frustration, Hotch had stormed off toward the supply closet in search of a new pack. When he opened the door, he came face to face with a more than delicious view of her ass. She'd worn a skirt that day, and was bent over searching through a stack of papers on the bottom shelf in the closet.

His mouth had dropped open, and he was pretty certain that a bit of drool had seeped out. The creamy skin of her legs and thighs exposed right before him, he had to clench his hands into fists just to stop himself from reaching out and touching her. As thoughts of what he really wanted to do to her in that position quickly filled his mind, he immediately forgot about the pens he'd intended on retrieving and retreated back to his office before anyone noticed the fabric tenting at the front of his slacks. He'd hidden in his office for the rest of the day, trying to rid himself of those images, but at the same time, unable to not allow himself to imagine exactly what it would be like...

Shaking his head as he pulled into the lot at her building, he sighed and looked down. Damn it! He'd done it again. Just remembering that picture in his mind, and the thoughts of what he wanted to do to her had made him incredibly hard, which, with these slacks, was very apparent to anyone looking at him. Well! He definitely had to get rid of that before he went up to give her back her phone.

'Okay. Statistics. What did Reid tell him earlier? Something about the average life of a barn owl? No, that's not working. Oh! Rossi, naked.' He shuddered in disgust, 'Strauss. Strauss naked.' He shuddered again. That did it.

He was disgusted with himself for having to take it that far, but it worked. His eager friend had calmed down and he was presentable again. He sighed deeply, hoping to God that he didn't get excited again as soon as he saw her, or he'd really be in for it. Shaking his head at his own thoughts, he sighed as he shuffled himself out of the SUV and into her building.

Once at her door, he knocked. Nothing. Huh. He knocked again, and again nothing. He'd noticed her car was in the park downstairs, so she should be home... unless she was out with someone. Hopefully she didn't go back to the office to get her phone... and he wasn't really in a hurry, but he didn't want to be the creepy guy standing outside a single woman's apartment door for hours. He paced back and forth for a moment, before deciding a course of action. Pulling out the key she'd given him after Foyet's attack, he set it in the lock, and turned. He would just pop in, leave the phone on the counter with a note, and leave again. She'd text him her 'thanks' later and everything would be fine.

No harm done, right?

How wrong he was! When he opened the door to her apartment and stepped inside, closing the door and flicking the lock behind him, the first thing he heard was her voice singing along to... what the hell was she singing? She must have her iPod in and that's why she couldn't hear him knock because he couldn't hear any music, just her voice. Whatever it was she was singing had him intrigued, and he decided to investigate. As he came closer to the living room, she finally came into view.

Boy I wanna get you alone.

Cover you in chocolate, and turn off the phone.

Damn! I think I'm losing my mind.

What's been coming over me?

He stopped immediately. Her back was to him as she was folding clothes. It wasn't what she was doing that had him freeze though; it was what she was dressed in... or rather undressed in. Gorgeous lacy barely there panties with a matching bustier piece clung attractively to her perfect body. Red. He'd spent many nights imaging her body, tracing her curves with his fingers in his dreams. He'd spent so much time imagining this moment; the moment where she was in this state of undress before him, that it was hard to believe it was real. In fact, it was so hard to believe that he completely forgot that it was not supposed to be real; that she didn't know he was there watching her; the horrible things that could happen if she turned around and saw him staring at her like that. Still, she was better than his every fantasy... and there had been a LOT of fantasies over the years.

I wanna be like Pamela Lee.

You go get the camera and I'll say cheese.

Baby you'll be rocking my world,

at the funeral of a good girl.

Jesus, Mary, Mother of... Holy Shit! Her head banged, and her body shook to fast beat of the music as she folded a pair of socks together. No matter how hard he tried (which, admittedly wasn't very hard; he was too busy staring) to convince himself that he shouldn't be there... he couldn't help but feel like it was just that moment he'd been waiting for. That maybe, just maybe, she'd wanted him as much as he wanted her. Her head moving like that only made him picture it doing the same thing with a certain one of his appendages in her mouth. He didn't have to wonder if there was drool hanging from his open mouth... he knew it was there. Along with the excitement in his lower regions that he'd so been hoping wasn't going to reappear when he got up there.

Well maybe I'm going crazy, but

you be the kid and I'll be the candy store.

Take me down, baby.

Well, her... dressed like that, moving like that, shot any chance of that not happening. She was delectable! He wanted to taste her. The red so perfectly contrasted her pale skin, he just wanted to taste... to touch... to trail his fingers along the edges of where the lace met that delicious porcelain skin. He took an involuntary step forward, the hardness in his pants stretching the material to its limits as he continued to stare.

Do it to me now! Do it to me now!

I can't believe I just said it out loud!

You make me wanna scream!

And throw you to the ground!

Do it! Do it to me now!

Holy shit! Was she singing about what he thought she was singing about? What the hell kind of song was this anyway? It was dirty... and the words leaving her mouth made him want to do just at it suggested. He wanted to do it to her now. He wanted to hear her scream; more specifically scream his name as he threw her writhing body to the ground and ploughed into her while his hands explored every inch of her. Shaking his head, he tried to clear those thoughts from his mind, but with her moving like that, dressed like that... he couldn't do it. Instead, he found himself edging closer to her.

He was only human, after all.

"Make me be a bad little girl.

I don't want your diamonds,

just a necklace of pearls.

So come on, put your lips on mine."

As those last words left her lips, he couldn't help himself. Who was he to deny the song's request? In two more steps, he'd found himself behind her. One more step, reaching his arms out to grab her hips and spin her around, moving one hand to her back to pull her against him, simultaneously crushing his lips against hers.

Her eyes widened in shock and she pushed back against him, though the scent was familiar, her original thought was that someone had broken in and was attacking her. As she realized who it was that was keeping himself plastered against her despite her feeble attempt to free herself, her eyes widened even more so.

Hotch? What the fuck!

Well, heh. Something about the way he was holding her against him, and the stiffness she felt pressed up against her stomach made her think fucking might be on the menu for the evening... at least as far as he was concerned. She on the other hand, wasn't quite sure what the fuck was going on! What she was sure of though, was that his lips enveloping hers felt good. So good! The resistance she'd initially put up had melted away as soon as she'd realized that she was finally getting a taste of the lips she'd been craving for so long. She'd dreamt about him before, and had always wondered if he'd taste like she imagined he would. Perhaps it was investigating that particular curiosity that prevented her from detangling herself from him to find out what had gotten into him. Though the kiss had yet to deepen, it had every potential to do so. She considered it while he was reaching up to gently remove the ear buds of her iPod from her ears, simultaneously, she pulled the device from her hip and discarded it on the plush chair across from them.

Hotch didn't even notice her initial resistance. His brain was a haze. The pure lust and animalistic instincts had completely taken him over. He kept them pressed together as his tongue ran along her lower lip, trying to gain entrance. She didn't allow that just yet. She'd had a second to think, and that had put a pause to her immediate caving to his every movement. What the hell was going on? She'd gone out of her way to convince herself that however hopeful she might have been, there was no possible way that Aaron Hotchner could harbour any sort of romantic feelings for her. She'd assumed that they'd never be more than friends, and not even really close friends at that. No matter how much she wanted to be more, that was just the way it was. So it was no wonder that the brunette was entirely confused, and completely uncertain as to what exactly was going on. Oh! And! How did he get in? Well, that was a stupid question. She knew he had a key, almost everyone on her team had one, but she couldn't imagine him just using it to sneak into her house when she was home. Then again, she couldn't imagine him jumping her like this, and apparently that was happening...

Maybe she didn't know near as much as she thought she did about her superior.

The confusion she was feeling in the moment, and the thoughts reeling through her mind kept her lips tight. His tongue was still attempting to attain the goal it'd started on a few moments ago. He groaned in frustration as she still hadn't opened herself to him. In a moment of blind passion, he roughly shoved them both backwards until her back slammed against the glass of her full length windows, hard. The immediate chill on her skin made her gasp, and he used that opportunity to forcefully shove his tongue into her mouth.

Well maybe I'm going crazy, but

you're the kid and I feel like the candy store.

Take me down, baby.

She couldn't help but moan into his mouth. The authoritative way in which he handled her excited her in a way that she didn't know was possible. The way he'd gripped her hips and all but slammed her against the glass... The way he held her possessively between the window and his body... She'd imagined he would be like this; it was one of her favourite fantasies; that the commanding air he held around the office would also be apparent in the bedroom. The thought turned her on to no end, and she could tell by the feeling of his arousal pressed against her stomach that he was just as excited in his want for her.

Neither of his hands were still; he moved one up to tangle in her hair while the other went down to grip her ass, pulling her closer to him. He could tell the exact moment she had completely caved; when her tongue first stroked along his. And her hands: soft, feminine hands, hands that had started out pushing him away had since clenched the collar of his shirt on either side in fists. He could feel a slight tug forward at the back of his neck from her pulling on his collar. He immediately decided that this was meant to be encouragement, and as their tongues tangoed between their mouths, he suddenly couldn't keep his hands still. First they were on her ass, then they were up over her hips, trailing up over her sides. As his fingers ghosted over the edges of her lace covered breasts, he allowed his thumbs to ever so slightly rub over her nipples through the thin material. This action rewarded him with another moan, and he quickly decided that her moans were his new favourite sound. His mouth formed a grin as he pulled away from her lips, bringing a hand up to brush a lock of hair off of her face and over her shoulder.

As his lips were pulled from hers, she couldn't help but feel cold. A tiny whimper escaped her full lips as she tried to pull him back toward her. She succeeded, only this time his kisses attacked along her jaw, tracing an invisible line down her neck, then towards her shoulder, his fingers pulling the straps of her bustier off her shoulder as he went. He moved his kisses lower, moving closer to her breasts as she let her head lean back against the window; she was finally able to open her mouth to speak, "Hotch...?"

"Mmm...?" he groaned as he attached himself to the top of her right breast above her lingerie, sucking and lightly nipping at the sensitive flesh there. It was clear he was far more interested in continuing his exploration than he was in answering her queries. Still, he'd humour her.

"Uhhh... Hotch," she managed to get out, her voice just above a whisper as she tried to control her reaction to the effect he was having on her, "what?"

"What, what?" he replied between kisses as he moved over to her left breast, repeating the same attention there. As he continued his oral assault on what he could get to of her breasts, his fingers were working to free the remainder of them.

"are... you.. doing?" she managed to squeak out. His mouth moved back to her neck again, suckling that spot that he'd discovered a moment ago... the one that made her breathe deeply, gasping a little with each breath. His attempts at distracting her were more effective by the moment. As soon as the clasps of her top were undone, he shoved the garment back off her shoulders, resulting in her chest fully naked and open to him. A low deep growl escaped his throat as he leaned forward to immediately snatch a nipple into his mouth.

"Giving in," he replied in that voice that just about sent her over the edge on its own; the voice that was just above a whisper, but in that dark, serious tone that she'd so often seen him use, "I've wanted to do this for so long..."

"But..." Shocked by his admission, that was the first thing out of her mouth. It wasn't a protest; protesting was futile. She knew it, and she knew she wanted this to follow the natural progression. It wasn't even a real protest. It was merely a whisper. He was all over her, and she couldn't have been happier. Yes, it was confusing, happening like this. Yes, it was something she'd imagined for months. Yes, she knew that the repercussions had the potential to be disastrous. She knew that it could end at any moment; that he could simply stop and wonder what he was doing, and leave. She knew that it could go all of the way until morning, and he could leave then. She knew she should stop him, that she should be sure that he was completely sure about what was going on because she wasn't sure if she could take it if he wasn't. But all at the same time, she simply did not care. She was busy. Her body was vibrating in pleasure. Her skin was on fire. Every touch of his fingers, every brush of his lips, and every flick of his tongue… were each doing their part in driving her crazy. She moaned as his lips once again engulfed her nipple. His hands trailed over her thighs, moving his knee between her legs and pushing them further apart.

"Emily..." God she loved how her name sounded on his lips. He took a chance and glanced up toward her, making eye contact. Their individual focus was only maintained long enough for the other to clearly see the pure lust and desire that had fogged over their eyes. She thought for a moment he was questioning her, and not wanting to discourage him, she gave a slight nod of her head. Even if he wasn't waiting for a sign from her, he obviously took her nod as a go-ahead because at that moment, he quickly covered her mouth with his own again. This time he met no resistance from her. As his tongue delved into her mouth, she eagerly responded.

She hoped her highest hopes that this wouldn't result in him waking up in the morning claiming it was all a mistake... or worse, a mistake brought on by too much alcohol. She hadn't tasted any alcohol on his breath, so she wouldn't let him try that one. Still, the thought lingered in the back of her mind. He didn't show any signs of intoxication, and she definitely wasn't either. She just hoped it was him... really him. The brief moment of eye contact that they had shared just moments prior was enough to convince her that: yes, it really was him. Yes, he was blinded by desire, but so was she (rational Emily would have taken things a lot slower than this, and she knew rational Hotch would have too). It was him. He was here and he wanted her, and that was all she really cared about at this point. She wanted it too much to make it stop, no matter the consequence.

He took the opportunity to cup her laced-covered sex in his palm, pressing in on her. He could feel her dripping through her panties and the male in him was more than proud that he made her that way. As his mouth continued to ravage hers, he moved the lace aside and slipped a finger between her slick folds.

"Oh God!" She'd broken the kiss to cry out, her head leaning back against the glass, and he'd wasted no time in moving back down to her neck. Her exclamation was music to his ears. It only worked to encourage him as a second finger slipped in, his thumb moving up to work over her clit. Her hips instinctually bucked against him. With what was happening, he wasn't about to take too much time with her beforehand. His need was far too intense and required release much sooner than going slowly would allow; however, he still wanted to get her going. He knew she didn't need anything, but he wanted to touch her like that. Her need for him was just as clear, as her fingers skipped over removing his shirt completely and went straight for his belt buckle. His free hand moved to push her hands away. He wasn't quite finished pleasing her yet, and his pants were the only thing keeping him from burying himself in her heat. He needed them, if only to restrain himself.

"Please? I need you." He grinned at her words. There was something incredibly erotic about being able to make the strong, composed Emily Prentiss beg. His enjoyment of it both temporarily quelled his need, and turned him on even more, if that were possible. In fact, he found he liked it so much that it twisted things a bit. Now, it was a game. How much more could he make her beg? Could he hold out long enough to get her to beg for him? She wasn't being overly cooperative though; she was insistent, impatient. Her hands had found their way back down towards his belt buckle, going further down this time to stroke him through his pants, causing him to groan into her neck.

Kissing his way down her chest, he spent a moment on each of her nipples, removing his hand from her center long enough to hook his fingers in her underwear on either side of her hips. She whimpered as contact was lost, and immediately her hands were trying to get his belt undone again. If he was going to get her all worked up just to leave her hanging, then she was going to use him to work herself over... and that required that his pants go.

He had other ideas. As his face nuzzled between her breasts, he kept her back pressed against the glass. He could taste the salty sweat on her skin, and decided quickly that her taste was his new favourite. He swatted her hands away again, this time pushing them back against the glass on either side of her body. This was his party. He was in control, and it was going to stay that way. She pressed her palms flat against the cool surface, concentrating on keeping them there as his fingers were again on her hips. She wanted to move her hands, to play her own part, and it took every fibre of her being to keep from touching him, but she didn't dare for fear that he would stop what he was doing. Hooking his fingers in the band of her lacy panties, he pulled them down over her hips and legs, his lips fluttering over her skin as he made his way down until he was kneeling before her.

Hotch moved one hand moved to tease over her folds once again, replacing a finger within her while the other moved to keep her in position. He trailed kisses down until he reached her sex, leaning in to tentatively touch his tongue to her sensitive area. She cried out at that, and he grinned before diving back in. As he nudged her clit with his tongue, working it over, she arched her back, trying to press herself into his ministrations. As much as she was enjoying this, and she wanted him to do this, it wasn't what she wanted at this exact moment... but she couldn't bring herself to pull away from the ministrations of his tongue. Her voice was reduced to a mere whisper as she had to focus on breathing between each word, "Later! I want you inside me right now!"

Demanding wasn't helping her case; he'd simply ignored her and continued his onslaught. She could feel her orgasm building, twisting in the pit of her stomach, and she wanted him inside her before she crashed over the edge. She pulled her hands from their place on the window, moving them to cup his face and pull him back up to her. Instead of accomplishing her goal, she was surprised to find him let go of her to pin her hands back where he'd originally placed them. Her impatience excited him even more. He dove face-first back into her heat, tracing his tongue over her before inserting it between her folds.

Do it to me now! Do it to me now!

I can't believe I just said it out loud!

You make me wanna scream!

And throw you to the ground!

Do it! Do it to me now!

"HOTCH!" Emily cried out at the sensation his tongue on her sex was causing. Everything he was doing was just making her more and more impatient. She felt achingly empty... hollow. She wanted... No, she NEEDED him to fill her, and she needed him now. He must've sensed it because he stopped his assault, kissing his way back up her body as he brought her hands above her head and pinned them there with one of his own. Using the hand that was not continuing to ascertain his dominance, he pulled his belt loose, undid the button and fly of his pants, then dropped them along with his boxers.

With a glance downward, a moan escaped from Emily's mouth. His hardness in the open and ready for her... It was too much. As he pulled her against him again, she could feel just how hard he was against her thigh. She whimpered, making eye contact with him as she whispered, "now! Please!"

The eye contact made it impossible for him to deny her any longer. He freed her hands, moving his own down to lift her bottom up. Her legs wrapped around his waist as her arm wrapped around his neck. She snaked her other hand down between their bodies to grip him. Feeling his cock twitch in her grasp made her grin, and she couldn't help stroking him a couple times before lining him up to her entrance.

Meeting his eyes again, she nodded, and he wasted no time in thrusting up into her. She cried out as she felt him finally fill her. She'd never imagined him feel like this... stretching her just enough to achieve that perfect mixture of pain and pleasure.

He buried himself completely, until their bodies were completely flush, groaning at the sensation of her silken channel wrapped around him. He couldn't help but think it was like coming home. She fit so perfectly around him that if he hadn't known any better, he'd have thought she was made for him. The completeness he felt was momentarily overwhelming. He stilled for a moment, leaning his head forward against hers, his breathing rapid as he managed to rasp out: "God Emily, you're so perfect"

Baby, I've never been so easy,

but you're in luck, boy.

Something about you makes me wanna...

Uhhh...

She took the opportunity to initiate another kiss, urging him to start moving. Using the window for leverage, he began slowly thrusting into her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she impatiently thrust her tongue into his mouth, pulling it in and out again, imitating the movement of his hips with her tongue. There was nothing slow and sensuous about what they were doing. It was insistent and demanding and required just as much responsiveness from the other partner.

Her back pressed against the window, the city lights behind her... it was quite a sight. As erotic as his current view was, it was becoming more difficult and increasingly exhausting to maintain their current position. He wasn't 20 anymore, and neither was she. He pulled her tight to him, and without pulling out of her moved her over to the couch behind them. They were disconnected for only a moment, to situate themselves in a good position before he was ploughing back into her.

"Faster," she panted. He was groaning. He couldn't deny her request, and his hips drove into her, increasing speed with each thrust. Each of them could feel their orgasms building. She pulled his mouth back to hers, crushing her lips against his. He covered her breasts with his palms, his thumbs tweaking her rock-hard nipples.

The added stimulation was too much for her, and she crashed, her walls clenching around him as she screamed out, "Ahhh! HOTCH!"

Hearing her voice shout his name along with the added sensation that came with her orgasm, he couldn't hold his own in much longer. With a few more rapid pumps, grunting with each one, he reached that edge. His body stilled for a moment as his seed spilled within her. He slowly rocked in and out a couple times, her channel milking him for everything he was worth. As he withdrew, he pulled her tightly against his body and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, whispering, "Em..." "

"Mmmm?" she moaned, still coming down from her high as he readjusted them to lie on her sofa, her body tucked between his and the back of the couch. She snuggled into him, more content than she'd been in a long, long time.

"That was..." he breathed into her neck, holding her tightly.

"Amazing," she finished for him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"You are amazing," he replied, closing his eyes and sighing contently.

They lay there in silence for a few moments, their eyes closed, and their bodies just feeling one another... basking in the afterglow of what they'd just done.

She knew she couldn't go back after this. Having him in the most primitive of ways opened up that box of Aaron Hotchner in the back of her mind and quadrupled the size of it. Even with her spectacular compartmentalization skills, it would be impossible to shove that back into her mind again.

The serenity they'd found in the moment was abruptly interrupted by the abnormally loud vibrations of a cell phone.

Both Agents opened their eyes and looked around the room for the intruding device. That was either his phone telling them they had a case, or her phone telling them her date for the evening was calling. It wasn't until that moment that Emily's original plans for the evening occurred to her.

"Shit!' she cursed as she extracted herself from him on the couch, grabbed the throw from the back of the couch to wrap around her body, and then ran off to go find her phone.

"In my pant pocket," he replied, groaning as he sat up. That's why it was so loud; he'd had a bunch of change in his pocket. She shot him a questioning look, but shrugged it off and turned toward the window where their session had started to find his discarded trousers.

Grabbing the phone, she flipped it open to find that it was only a text message; one that added to the other four that she'd already missed. She flipped through them, rolling her eyes at the messages, two from JJ and one from Penelope asking how her date-prep was going. Hah. If only they knew. The other two were from the Detective her date was set in. The first said he was excited to see her, and had been sent relatively early; the second said that he regrettably needed to cancel on her for the evening for work and that he hoped she understood. Well, she would've understood... after all, her job had torn her away from multiple dates (not with him specifically, this was to be their first date, but in general). After what had just happened, she needed to have been calling to cancel on him anyway, so it was actually a relief. The last thing she would have needed was for her actual date to show up at the door while she was naked and curled on the sofa with her supervisor, and if the phone hadn't started making noise she wouldn't have even remembered that she'd had plans for the evening.

"Well, that saves me a phone call," she said nonchalantly as she shot a quick text off to both JJ and Penelope saying that her date had cancelled on her because of work and she was going out for a run simply so they wouldn't decide that they needed to come over and cheer her up, rolling her eyes a little at the thought of her friends. Next to her former date for the evening showing up, having those two on her doorstep was probably the next worst thing that could happen.

"What does?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Date. Cancelled on me," she explained as she finished her texts, dropped the phone back on the counter, and made her way back over to him, she all of a sudden wasn't sure what to do or where this was going to go.

"Oh... you had a date tonight?" He said, sounding almost apprehensive. He'd known that, of course, but only because he'd been eavesdropping on her conversation with JJ and Penelope earlier.

"Well, not anymore," she grinned, "at least, not with who it was originally planned with. Still, it saves me from having to call and cancel on him."

"You'd have done that?" he asked, reaching out for her hand and pulling her across his lap, cradling her in his arms.

"You're fishing," she replied, shaking her head at him with a smirk. She knew what he said could've been taken as implying she was a bit of a slut, but she also knew him well enough to know that even Aaron Hotchner had some insecurities, and his question had come from that, and only that. Wrapping one arm around the back of his neck, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, "Do you really think I'd still go out with some other guy after what just happened?"

"Of course not," he whispered, tucking her head under his chin as he pulled her tightly against him. They were silent for a few moments, just delighting in being close to one another. Her palm was pressed against his chest, rubbing absentmindedly as he ran his hand over her back doing the same thing.

Five, ten minutes passed before Emily pulled herself back a bit to look at him, "hey, Hotch?"

"Hmmm?" he replied, with no idea what she was possibly going to ask him. The potential for this conversation to take a serious turn at any moment was particularly high, and he wasn't sure he wanted to be serious just yet. He was quite content to just bask in the warmth that was her body against his, her breath on his skin, her fingers caressing him, her lips kissing him... If thoughts like that kept up, he'd be ready for round two quicker than he thought he was able to be.

"Not that I'm unhappy, because that is definitely not the case, but what are you doing here? And why was my phone in your pants?"

His first reaction was to laugh. It was a little late for that question considering what they'd just done... but then again she had tried to ask him that before everything had completely started.

"You left your phone at the office," he started, "It was vibrating and the front screen said there were messages waiting, so I thought you might need it... and your place is on my way home."

"Yeah, if you take an eight block detour," she teased, "but really, that was sweet. Thanks."

"I'm sorry for just coming in," he'd wanted to make that part clear, "well, I'm not because this wouldn't have happened if I didn't, but for the invading your privacy part I am. I knocked and you didn't answer. I thought if you weren't home then I would just leave it for you with a note and leave again... but then I saw you and..."

She cut him off by kissing him. She hadn't even heard half of what he'd said. She'd stopped listening after he'd implied he wasn't sorry about what had happened. That had been her biggest fear in the aftermath; that he would regret their night together and want to pretend it never happened and move on. That would have been almost too difficult for her to compartmentalize... especially when it was something that she'd wanted for so long. The kiss had started out modestly, with her simply pressing her lips against his in pure adoration... but then she opened her mouth, and he took full advantage, deepening the kiss.

Oh yeah, he was more than ready for round two, and they both were very aware of that fact.

Flipping them over so she was on the couch and he was hovering above her, he kissed her again before standing. She looked up at him, confused for a moment before he reached down and scooped her up in his arms, sealing his mouth to hers in the process. She'd tried to laugh, but his kiss had cut her off before she'd had the chance. Her arms wrapped around his neck, giving him as much help in holding her weight as she could in that position. He moved away from the couch, looking around the room as they kissed.

"Bedroom?" he managed to ask between kisses, starting to head toward the stairs, and reattaching his mouth to hers.

"Up," she panted, kissing him again before adding, "right."

He grinned momentarily before moving down to run his lips over her neck, all the while taking them up towards her bedroom. The first time had been almost rough, needy, and raw... it had been sex. This time, he wanted to make love to her. He'd come this far. Admitting how deep his feelings actually ran vocally was going to be difficult, and he wasn't sure he was ready for that. No, he knew he wasn't ready for that, and he was sure he'd scare her off if he admitted that he loved her out loud. However, showing her how he felt was a whole different story. Yes, this was going to be entirely different than shoving her up against a window and ravaging her. This was going to be slow, sensuous, caring... yes; he was definitely going to take his time in pleasuring her in every way he knew how.

Later that night, the two of them lay snuggled under the covers in her bed, wrapped tight against one another.

"This has been a long time coming, hasn't it?" He asked, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Mmmm," she agreed.

"I've wanted you for so long," he admitted, moving his lips to ghost over the side of her neck as the hand around her waist pulled her closer.

"What? How long?" Emily was surprised. She'd known that she'd always been attracted to him, but she'd spent so long convincing herself that the attraction wasn't mutual. Being confronted with evidence that it actually had been mutual both confused and excited her. She was afraid of jumping to conclusions about this new state of her relationship, but with the way he was behaving with her in the aftermath of their lovemaking made her entirely hopeful.

"Seventeen years," he replied offhandedly as though it were the most natural answer. It was the polar opposite of her reaction to his answer.

"What?" She pulled herself out of his arms and flipped over onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows to look him in the eye. She had moved past surprise, and was now genuinely shocked. "You mean, when you worked for my mother? Hotch, you only saw me once for like twenty minutes back then," she reasoned. It was insane that he remembered her from that many years ago! He'd been married when they met originally, and still married when he came back into her life. How did that even work? She didn't want to ask him about it. She definitely always had had fantasies about George Clooney, regardless of the relationship she was in, and she knew it was only natural that others had fantasies about people they weren't in relationships with. She'd just never thought of herself as someone's George. It was an incredible stroke to the ego to be aware of that fact. She had a feeling she wouldn't necessarily need to dream about George anymore either... not if this new development in her relationship with Hotch was more than just a one-time thing. Though she was curious about the answer to that particular question, she wasn't about to ask about it. They were still naked, and pressed together, and the way he was slowly running his hand over her thigh was only making her anxiously anticipate round three. No, that conversation could wait until morning at the very least.

"I know. I dreamt about you for years after that, and just when I thought I'd stopped dreaming about you, you just appear again," he explained,

"Oh... Wow. So uhh... " she paused almost nervously, "do I live up to the fantasy?" He knew her well enough to know that there was no way she could actually be nervous after what they'd just experienced together. Maybe after the first time, but no way after the second. There was the possibility that she was worried about where this was going to go, but he didn't think she'd bring that up now anyway. He was glad for that. He wasn't sure what to tell her; the only thing he was sure of was: now that he'd had a taste of her, there was no way he could give that up. He'd want her again and again... as long as she would let him.

"Now who's fishing?" he teased, earning him a glare. He relented, giving in by telling both what was both what he knew she wanted to hear, and what was absolutely the truth, "Sweetheart, you are so much better than any fantasy, trust me." The way the grin lit up her face at his statement meant he'd accomplished his goal. Her glee at his answer was apparent as she gently pressed her lips to his, moving over to straddle his hips. Nothing better to butter up a ladies' ego than compliments like that.

"Well, so we're even, you easily outdo the fantasy," she admitted, causing him to look at her with a questioning eyebrow for a moment. His look caused her to laugh for a moment. Even his confused looks were ridiculously attractive. She couldn't resist him. Oh yeah, round three was very much on its way.

"Yes, I've fantasized about you!" she admitted, as his mouth moved back to her neck. She could feel him smile against her skin as she continued, "you, your eyes, your hair, your hands touching my body, and your... using all parts of you to bring me closer and closer..."

As she spoke, he swept his hands deftly over her thighs, bringing them closer to her core.

She moaned, enjoying his touches for a moment before pushing his hand away, adding, "I have another fantasy... about you..."

"Oh?" he asked, looking up at her. He wasn't sure why she'd stopped him, but her statement had thoroughly intrigued him.

"Mmmhmm..." she replied, moving her hands down between their bodies to stroke his already semi-hard length.

"Ohhh? What kind of fantasy?" he asked, already liking where this was going. Her body hovering over him, how close to her core his hands were, her mussed up hair, and kiss swollen lips grinning wickedly at him... all played a part in making him completely rigid.

"Well," she replied, slowly sliding her body down his, dragging her breasts over his chest as she moved, "it starts out something like this..."

And with that, she covered his length with her mouth, eliciting a groan from deep in his throat.

Oh yes, this was definitely the beginning of something incredible...

Do it to me now! Do it to me now!

I can't believe I just said it out loud!

You make me wanna scream!

And throw you to the ground!

Do it! Do it to me now!