I cannot stress the rating enough. This IS NOT for small children. Don't read if you're not above the age of consent and/or majority in your country.

There is a good reason for the rating.

Otherwise, enjoy!


The Reality of Fantasy

Kensi isn't usually one to fantasize.

She's a beautiful thirty-something that can be anybody she chooses. She doesn't need the stimulation when someone else can take care of it for her. Not that she's a slut she just knows where she can go when she needs to scratch and itch and, more importantly, how to go about it. So she's a little shocked when she knows she's reached a boiling point and instead of heading out to find a warm body, she's actually thinking of someone she seriously can't have.

It's the smirk and she knows it. They've been working together for a million years, exaggeration aside, and it's only last week that the smirk sent tingles racing down her spine. And it's the smirk in her mind's eye now.

The hacienda is really huge and not every corner is covered with security cameras so not even the all-seeing eye of Uncle Sam is watching her as she slips into a small room that could have been a storage closet. It's empty now, used for nothing unless it's needed for something, so it affords her a privacy she's not sure is possible anywhere else.

In her mind's eye, however, he's watching. Callen is, and he's wearing that smirk that tells her he knows exactly what she's thinking. Still, he keeps his distance, teasing her because he won't step closer. But she has two perfectly functioning hands and she knows her body.

She lets her left hand linger just above the edge of her jeans. She can feel the tingle already, the need for pressure for friction for anything. He steps closer as her fingers open her belt, button and fly, sliding her hand between the denim and satin of her panties. Her fingers find her slick skin with ease – not every guy she takes to bed considers her and it's not the first time she's had to take the pleasure into her own hands – and she rubs in a slow circle. Her other hand reaches up for a breast, sliding her fingers across a nipple as it pebbles.

He's still just watching and she finds herself wondering, if only for a split second, if Callen likes to watch. But then she's sliding a hand beneath her panties and her eyes flutter closed as she touches herself. She can feel him there, feels a shift in the air as he steps closer, but the heat is spreading now, and she knows her face is flushing and it feels too damned good for her to care where Callen is.

She works herself quickly, trying to keep herself quiet because while the all-seeing eye isn't there, there's the distinct possibility that someone could be walking by the door. He's still watching her, still paying attention and she shifts against her own fingers, using her free hand to nudge her jeans down until she has enough space to spear two fingers into her body. She hums at the feeling and the air shifts around her again. His hands are on her waist and his mouth is on her neck but she keeps her eyes resolutely shut until he sucks on her neck and sends her careening over the edge of orgasm.

She gets the shock of a lifetime when her eyes flutter open.

Callen's mouth is still on her neck, his hands now slipping beneath her shirt to touch heated, aroused skin. Somewhere along the way, her fantasy became a reality and she's stunned still in a mixture of arousal and shock. He takes advantage of her surprise to slide her shirt over her head and reveal a bra impractical for a day in the office. Of course, the impracticality is what's drawn her to it and the only piece of her brain aware of what's going on files his reaction away for later.

His mouth trails up her neck until he's hovering above her mouth. "Kens," he breathes and fuck it because she actually whimpers. "Kensi."

His hand slides down her hip, across to the hand still nestled inside her body. He tugs on her wrist until she pulls her hand from beneath her panties and he's got it in his mouth before she can even breath. Breathing's overrated though because it takes away from the experience of Callen licking her juices off her hand. She moans this time and he takes a moment to cover her mouth with his, a gentle reminder that she can't make a sound.

But it's her freaking fantasy come to life, of course she wants to make good use of it.

She'll regret it tomorrow. Today, she just wants him.

He knows it, senses it, whatever, because his kiss turns dark with longing and need. She responds, arching and fisting her wet hand in the edge of his t-shirt. It's over his head by the time his mouth returns to hers and she presses against his body. It gives him the space to unclasp her bra and it falls unceremoniously with his shirt. She doesn't give a rat's ass though because she's already focused on her nipples against his chest, even as he chuckles at the desperate friction.

"Kensi," he breathes again, this time against her shoulder. She whines as he tongues her collarbone on his way to her breasts and wiggles her jeans to her knees by the time he hits the soft globes. She's glad she's made it that far because thought scatters as he wraps his mouth around her nipple. Her hands come to his head, feeling the edges of the short strands as a contrasting roughness on her palms. He tongues and bites and has her squirming and biting her lip to keep her sounds to herself all before he switches to her other breast. Only then does he retrace the path of her hand to her wetness, sliding a finger against her sensitive nerves on it's way to her entrance.

She's hot and slick and whimpers when he pulls away too quickly. Then he's kissing her, his tongue in her mouth, fighting hers despite the languid feeling of one orgasm colliding catastrophically with the arousal he's caused. He guides her hands to his pants and she realizes dimly it's as much a question of permission as a reminder to participate. This is his way of giving her a choice, a way out and she's not an idiot so she deals with the fastenings so she can shove them down his legs. He makes her pause long enough to fight a condom out of his wallet before he's against her again, the hard heat of his cock pressed against her stomach.

He wrestles the condom into her hand and she rips it open with skill of practice. He outright freaking growls at the implication, his blue eyes blazing when they meet hers. Well hell, she thinks, if she'd known Callen was an option for scratching that itch she may have taken him up ages ago on convenience alone. It doesn't matter though because her focus is on sliding the condom along his length so he can raise her leg and push inside her. And when she does it's an explosion of colour.

He pauses and pants against her shoulder that she's fucking beautiful and she just moans and shifts, her leg wrapping more firmly along the back of his knee. She doesn't need pretty words so long as he moves and when he does he takes the air in her lungs with him. He pulls all the way out and teases her until she's whining before sliding back in again, setting a delicious pressure with the responding thrusts of her hips. He's got one hand on her thigh, the other on her hip and his forehead resting against hers. His breath mingles with hers between them as her face screws up in exquisite pleasure.

Then he's speeding up and she's meeting him thrust for thrust and his mouth is on hers as she starts keening with the edges of her orgasm. He shoots her over with a couple of well-timed and gloriously rough swipes and he kisses her through the climax. Then she's doing the same to him, keeping him silent with her kiss if his low moan is any indication.

When they've finally recovered, when they're dressed and garbage dealt with, Callen looks at her from the door. She knows she's a little worse for wear and has every intention of heading to the ladies room to make sure she can put her ponytail back together but then he smirks at her, eyes heated and warm and there's pride in his eyes at her disheveled appearance.

She fidgets slightly and says, "Stop smirking."

There must be something in her voice, because there's a spark of awareness that lasts the rest of the day. When they're packing up to leave, both she and Callen linger until Deeks and Sam are gone. Then he's stepping towards her, that smirk on his face.

He pauses and though he's not much of a drama queen she knows it's for effect, knows with startling clarity that he's aware that smirk makes liquid pool in her stomach. "You get to my place first, you can be on top."


Kay, if you enjoyed, I'd appreciate feedback. I'm thinking of making this into a little series, like Needs if any of you readers are Castle fans and have read it. Let me know if you want me to make a series out of this or if it's good where it is.

Thanks!