Cristina wandered around the firehouse, turning off some of the lights. She was tired of waiting up for Owen, who was delayed by yet another Pit emergency.
She leaned against the doorjamb into their bedroom and looked around. It was incredible to see how the ramshackle building had been transformed into a true home. Owen had put in long hours tearing walls down and rebuilding them to his satisfaction. And she … had put her credit cards to good use and made other people assemble furniture. Oh, she'd bought a couple of the plants and stuff, but she had to admit that it was Owen who had transformed the space into their home. It was a cozy atmosphere, and she loved spending time with him in it, just the two of them.
Sighing, she checked a clock. She'd waited up for him, eager to spend some time with him away from the pressures of the race for Chief Resident. She'd even chosen her clothing carefully – she was wearing one of his t-shirts. And nothing else.
"Cristina?" Owen bounded up the stairs, into the dim light.
"I'm here." She stepped towards him. "Are we done with hospital stuff tonight?"
"Yes!" He grinned and threw off his jacket, his eyes on her shapely legs.
"Whatever made you stay late had better have been important," she murmured, playing coy.
Owen smiled and closed the distance between them. "I don't want to talk about work now."
"What do you want to talk about?" She casually started unbuttoning his shirt.
"I don't want to talk." His voice was husky with desire. "I want to make sweet, sweet love with my wife."
"Just don't expect me to be sweet," Cristina smirked. "I got no sugar in me."
In response, Owen bent over, and picked her up. He slung her over his shoulder as she laughed. He walked the short distance to their bed and unceremoniously dumped her onto it. "I want some of your spice," he grinned.
Smiling, Cristina spread her legs open for him. He groaned to see that she was bare for him. "Spicy enough for you?" She smirked, reaching down to feel herself growing wet.
"Oh babe," he breathed, tugging his shirt off. "You are the best."
Without preamble, he bent over and started lapping at her juices. Her body bucked at the intensity, even as she settled back, propping herself up on her arms. Owen's hands went to her thighs, caressing them, as he greedily feasted on her.
Always fuck a surgeon, she thought, as his fingers nimbly entered her, finding just the right spots inside. There was nothing clumsy about his lips or tongue or teeth, either. His pace might have been intense, but every movement he made was calculated to leave her writhing and mewing and curling her toes. She loved how he made love to her, each and every time.
Cristina laid back, moaning his name. Her hands moved under the t-shirt, and she pulled it off, before grasping her breasts and playing with her nipples. Ecstatic, her moans grew louder as Owen continued to love on her, guiding her towards the highests of highs. Even as she shattered and squeezed his head between her thighs and arched off of the bed, he continued to suckle her. Only when her limbs went limp, and she laid there gasping, did he slowly start to kiss his way up her torso, leaving a trail of her juices on her skin.
His mouth found hers and they kissed, his beard scratching her chin. Then her hands moved to his belt, and their motions picked up in speed. Soon, she had Owen stripped and lying flat on the bed, as she straddled his chest. He grinned as she reached behind and started stroking him, her sensitive fingers teasing his already stiff shaft. He showed his appreciation by reaching between her legs and fingering her again. They continued at a languid pace, Owen's eyes growing darker and darker as she started to rock back and forth, grinding against him.
Unable to wait any longer, Owen abruptly sat up and kissed Cristina roughly. His mouth was frantic but he took care to guide her down onto her back, before positioning himself and entering her. She smiled and lightly bit his neck, marking him as her man, even as his body was claiming hers. She adjusted her hips to take him as deeply as possible, while running her hands up and down his magnificent body. His arms, his shoulders, his back, his ass … she couldn't stop touching him, feeling him move over and into her. He was hers, her strong muscular man with a heart of gold.
Owen couldn't stop touching her either. He supported his weight on one arm, letting his free hand wander through her hair, against her face, all over her breasts. His lips whispered sweet endearments, even as his hips steadily pumped into hers. Cristina raised her legs and used them to pull Owen closer, as he grunted into the curve between her neck and shoulder. His hand slipped between them, making her hiss and buck against his fingers.
With one final grunt, Owen started emptying himself into her, his hand drawing her into another heated orgasm. Once they started to descend from their shared high, he rolled off to the side, so he could pull her close without crushing her. Cristina laid her head against his heaving chest, closing her eyes. She relished being with him in this moment, warm and loving and blissful.
Owen ran a gentle finger under her chin, before lifting it into a kiss. One of his hands threaded into her hair, as the other one returned to her breasts, teasing her nipples. She sighed happily, as he began to make love to her again, unaware of the seismic changes that were already taking place within.