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The fluorescent lights of the BAU bullpen always seemed a little too bright, but lately, they felt downright blinding to Spencer, specifically whenever you walked into the room.
You had only been with the team for three months, but you had slipped into the unit’s rhythm with an infuriatingly effortless grace. You were sharp, your profiling skills were precise and worse… you weren't remotely intimidated by him.
While other new agents usually blinked in dazed silence when he rattled off statistics at 180 words per minute, you just leaned back, smiled and countered with your own observations.
He should have liked that, he should have appreciated the intellectual challenge, instead it made a strange tight knot form in the center of his chest, and then there was the way you interacted with everyone else.
"Good morning goddess," your voice echoed lightly from the doorway of the tech office.
Spencer -who was currently sorting through a stack of geographic profiling data at his desk- went completely still. He didn't look up, but his eyes stopped tracking the words on the page.
"Oh stop it, you beautiful girl!" Penelope’s giggling squeal carried easily across the bullpen.
From the corner of his eye, Spencer watched as you leaned over Garcia’s desk, setting down a specific half caf caramel macchiato. You whispered something close to her ear, some private joke that made Penelope cover her mouth, blushing and swatted playfully at your arm.
You laughed, a low warm sound and let your fingers brush against Penelope's shoulder before stepping back.
Spencer’s grip tightens on his pen until his knuckles turned white. “It’s unprofessional,” he told himself, his mind furiously scrambling to find a logical analytical reason for the sudden hot spike of irritation in his gut. “The bullpen is a secure federal environment. Displaying that level of casual intimacy distracts from the psychological focus required for active cases.”
Except, it wasn't just Penelope.
Later that afternoon, Hotch called a roundtable briefing. The air was thick with tension as the team analyzed the timeline of a new unsub in Seattle.
"If we look at the victimology," you spoke up, sliding a crime scene photo across the smooth wood of the table, "the unsub isn't choosing targets based on geography, he's choosing them based on their routine. Emily, look at the transit schedules, they all use the same train line at exactly 6:15 PM."
Emily studied the file for a second, a slow nod forming. "She's right, it accounts for the three day gap between the second and third abductions. Good catch!"
"Just following your lead," you replied smoothly. As Emily looked up, you caught her eye and gave her a deliberate playful wink.
Spencer’s breath hitched, his eyes darted from you to Emily, his brain short circuiting so violently he completely lost his train of thought. A heavy suffocating weight settled in his stomach. "Why did you do that? Why did you look at her like that?”
When the meeting was over, the team dispersed back to their desks. Spencer intentionally lingered by the coffee maker, his posture stiff, eyes fixed on the dark liquid dripping into the pot. He heard your footsteps before he saw you.
You walked up to the bullpen lounge, standing right next to Emily as she filed a report. You said something low, laughing and reached out to casually touch Emily’s forearm, just a brief lingering pressure of your hand against her sleeve.
Spencer didn't even realize he was staring until you suddenly turned your head and caught him.
The warmth in your expression vanished instantly, replaced by a cautious guarded look. The contrast was agonizing, with Penelope and Emily you were bright, tactile and radiant but with him, you were walking on eggshells.
"Am I disrupting your focus Dr. Reid?" You asked, your tone completely dropping the playful edge it had just had a second ago.
Spencer cleared his throat, his chest tightening as his social anxiety spiked, locking his muscles in place. He wanted to say something normal, he wanted to be a part of the casual ease you shared with everyone else, but the sheer terror of rejection -the crushing certainty that you would never look at him with that kind of warmth- made him freeze.
So he did what he always did, he built a wall of academic formality.
"The human brain requires sustained focus to process complex behavioral patterns," Spencer said, his voice clipped, cool and entirely detached. He didn't look you in the eye as he grabbed his mug. "Superfluous socializing in the workspace statistically reduces cognitive efficiency by 23%. So yes, it is distracting."
He turned on his heel and walked straight back to his desk without waiting for your response, leaving a heavy frustrated silence in his wake.
He didn't see the way your jaw tightened or the hurt that flashed in your eyes before turning into pure irritation. He just sat at his desk, staring blankly at his paperwork, his mind screaming at him because he had done it again.
He had pushed you away, all because he couldn't handle the burning desperate jealousy of wanting that attention for himself.
By the following Friday, the tension between you and Spencer had stretched into a thin dangerous wire, ready to snap at the slightest touch.
For an entire week, he had barely looked at you. If you handed him a file, he took it without letting his fingers brush yours, if you spoke in a briefing, he stared fixedly at the whiteboard, his jaw clenched so tight the muscle ticked.
The breaking point arrived at 9:00 PM on the same Friday night.
The team had just returned from a brutal exhausting case in Seattle, the unsub was in custody, the paperwork was logged and the heavy oppressive cloud of the job finally lifted.
Instead of heading straight home, everyone clustered around the desks in the bullpen, loosening ties and kicking off heels, unwinding with a rare relaxed camaraderie.
JJ had brought out a bottle of whiskey someone had gifted Hotch and plastic cups were being passed around.
You were leaning against the edge of Emily’s desk, a cup in your hand, finally letting the exhaustion melt away. Emily was sitting in her rolling chair, laughing softly as Penelope recounted a ridiculous online dating horror story.
A few feet away, Spencer sat at his desk. He hadn't joined the circle, he was meticulously cleaning his satchel, pretending to be deeply engrossed in organizing his books, but his ears were entirely tuned to your frequency.
"I’m telling you, the guy said he had a coupon to a Michelin star restaurant and then asked if we could split the appetizer three ways," Penelope said, laughing and throwing her hands in the air.
"Oh absolutely not," you laughed, leaning down closer to the two of them. "See, this is why I don't bother with dating apps, the standard is entirely too low."
Emily looked up at you, a smirk playing on her lips. "And what exactly is your standard?"
You smiled, the dim light of the bullpen catching the playful glint in your eyes. You leaned in just a little further, your shoulder brushing comfortably against Emily’s as you looked between her and Penelope.
"Honestly? If I wasn't working here and if regulations didn't exist, I’d just ask one of you two out on a proper date," you teased, your voice dripping with an affectionate exaggerated drawl. "You're both brilliant, gorgeous and you actually know how to dress. I'd treat you like queens."
Penelope clutched her chest with a dramatic gasp. "Oh my heart! Don't tempt me sweet girl!"
Emily chuckled, shaking her head, leaning back into your space with an easy familiar warmth. "Careful, don't make promises you can't keep."
It was a joke, it was a harmless casual bullpen banter meant to lighten the mood after a week of tracking a monster, but to Spencer, it was the sound of a match striking a puddle of gasoline.
“A proper date.” The words bounced around his skull, mutating into something agonizing. His brain didn't process the teasing tone, it only processed the visualization of you holding Emily’s hand, of you taking Penelope out, of you looking at someone else with that soft open desire.
The proprietary suffocating jealousy that he had spent three months trying to cage suddenly tore free, it filled his chest until he couldn't draw a full breath, a hot toxic wave of adrenaline that made his fingers tremble.
He couldn't do this anymore, he couldn't sit here and pretend he was just an annoyed coworker when the truth was ripping him apart from the inside out.
With a sudden violent movement, Spencer jammed a book into his satchel, the heavy thud of the binder hitting the bottom of the bag cut through the laughter at Emily's desk.
You paused mid laugh, your eyes instinctively darting over to him.
Spencer stood up so fast his chair rolled back and slammed into the desk behind him. He didn't look down to adjust it, he just looked across the bullpen, his gaze locking directly onto yours.
For a fraction of a second, the mask of the detached genius dropped entirely, his hazel eyes were dark, burning with a raw chaotic mixture of hurt, anger and a desperate untamed hunger that made your breath hitch. It was a glare that stripped away all the polite distance he had built between you.
You froze, the smile dying on your lips, your heart suddenly hammering against your ribs. “What is he looking at me like that for?”
Before you could even think to say anything, Spencer ripped his satchel over his shoulder. He didn't say goodbye to Morgan, he didn't wish the team a good weekend, he turned on his heel and strode toward the doors of the bullpen.
"What's crawled up his edge tonight?" Emily muttered, frowning as she watched the empty hallway where Spencer had just vanished.
"Maybe he's just tired," Penelope offered softly, looking confused.
But you couldn't speak. You stared at the empty doorway, your fingers tightening around your plastic cup. That look, the sheer unadulterated fury and longing in Spencer’s eyes had left your skin tingling. You didn't know what it meant, but as you looked down at your hands, you realized you were shaking.
The streetlights of the city blurred into long bleeding streaks of amber against the windshield of Spencer’s old car. He had been driving aimlessly for hours, completely lost in a vicious looping spiral of his own thoughts.
He hadn't even realized it was already approaching 2:00 AM nor that he hadn't made a single move toward his own apartment. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were completely bloodless, the leather casing groaning under the pressure.
His mind was a runaway train, a chaotic overlapping mess of statistics, psychological profiles and… your voice.
“If I wasn't working here... I’d ask one of you two out on a proper date.”
He pressed his foot harder onto the gas pedal, the engine whining in protest. “It’s a statistical anomaly for a team to maintain a cohesive environment when personal desires cross professional boundaries,” he reasoned, his brain working overtime to build a logical fortress around his breaking sanity. “She’s careless, she’s entirely unprofessional, she doesn't respect the psychological weight of this job if she can just stand there and throw around reckless flirtations like they mean nothing.”
He repeated the words like a mantra, trying to turn his blinding jealousy into a righteous clinical lecture on workplace protocol. But it was a lie, a desperate pathetic lie because every time he closed his eyes, he didn't see a violation of FBI guidelines, he just saw the slope of your shoulder brushing against Emily’s, he saw the warm easy smile you gave Penelope.
He wanted to tear that smile away from them, he wanted to force you to look at him even if it was with hatred just so he could be the center of your universe for a single fleeting second.
The car jolted to a halt, but Spencer didn't pause. He didn't think, he didn't rationalize and he didn't formulate a single objection as the sheer momentum of his own thoughts took over entirely.
Before his mind could formulate a single coherent objection, he was out of the car.
Inside your place, you had just changed into an oversized shirt, trying to shake off the strange vibrating electricity that had settled under your skin ever since Spencer had fled the bullpen. You were just about to pour yourself a glass of water when a heavy frantic knocking rattled your front door.
You frowned, your heart instantly leaping into your throat. "A case? An emergency?"
You hurried over and pulled the door open and the words died in your throat. It was Spencer.
He looked entirely unraveled, the cool pristine meticulous Dr. Reid was completely gone, his long brown hair was wildly messy, falling into his face as if he’d been running his fingers through it over and over. His coat was open and his tie was completely loosened.
The top two buttons of his dress shirt undone to reveal the pale skin of his throat and he was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as if he had run up a flight of stairs.
"Spencer?" You breathed, staring at him in shock. "What... what are you doing here? It's 2:30 AM! Did we get a call? Is there a new case?"
"No," he said, his voice lower than usual, rough and vibrating with a dangerous unstable energy. He didn't ask to come in, he just took a commanding step forward, forcing you to step back into your entryway so he could slam the door shut behind him.
"Then what is wrong with you?" You asked, your voice rising as defensive instinct kicked in. "You look like you're losing your mind."
"I am losing my fuckin mind," he shot back, his hazel eyes locking onto yours with a terrifyingly sharp intensity. He began pacing the narrow hallway, his hands gesturing wildly, the academic persona returning like a clumsy shield. "I’m losing my mind because the operational integrity of our unit is being compromised and nobody else seems to notice or care. Your behavior tonight… your behavior every day directly violates basic professional protocol!"
You stared at him utterly bewildered before a hot spark of anger ignited in your chest. "My behavior? What the hell are you talking about?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" He snapped, spinning around to face you, stepping entirely too close. "The casual touching, the whispering, telling Emily and Garcia that you want to take them on a proper date in front of the entire bullpen! It's distracting, it’s reckless and it is entirely unprofessional!"
"Unprofessional?!" You yelled, taking a step right back into his space, your chest nearly brushing his. You had to tilt your head back to look him in the eye but you refused to back down. "It was a joke! We were winding down after a brutal case! Emily and Penelope are my friends. It's called bonding Spencer, it's called being a human being!"
"It’s a distraction!" He shouted, his voice cracking, a raw vein of pure emotion bleeding through his academic lecture.
"No you know what? I am sick of this!" You fired back, your voice shaking with months of built up frustration. All the cold shoulders, the clipped answers, the way he made you feel like a nuisance, it all boiled over. "You've been looking for an excuse to tear me down since the day I got here! Why do you hate me so much Spencer? What did I ever do to you?!"
"I don't hate you!" He roared, the sound tearing from his throat, echoing off the walls of your quiet apartment.
"Then why can't you even look at me?!" You screamed back, tears of sheer frustration stinging the corners of your eyes. "Why do you treat everyone else with kindness and treat me like shit?!"
"Because you don't look at me like that!" Spencer finally exploded. The words cut through the air like a knife, slicing the shouting match dead in its tracks.
He stopped breathing, his hands hovered in the air trembling, his chest heaving violently. His face was flushed, a deep dark red creeping up his neck to his cheekbones. The anger in his eyes suddenly shattered, leaving behind something so raw and so agonizingly vulnerable it made your knees go weak.
"You spend all day..." Spencer whispered, his voice cracking, the fierce mask completely gone as he looked down at you, totally exposed. "You spend all day laughing with Penelope… you tease Emily… you touch them… you smile at them… you look at them like they're the only people in the room, and you act like I'm completely invisible. You walk on eggshells around me, you drop your voice… you look at me like I’m something dead who doesn't feel anything."
Your jaw slacked, the blood in your veins turned to liquid fire as the puzzle pieces slammed together in your head. The coldness, the glaring, the meticulous avoidance… it wasn't hatred, it was never hatred.
He was losing his mind because he was desperately and agonizingly jealous.
The anger between you instantly shifted, morphing into a heavy thick breathless tension that made the air feel like velvet. The space between you suddenly felt charged with a magnetic pull so strong it was dizzying.
You looked at his trembling hands, then up at his mouth and finally back into his dark burning hazel eyes. Slowly and deliberately you took a step closer, the tips of your toes brushed against his. You could feel the heat radiating off his body.
"You think I want them Spencer?" Your voice was barely a whisper now, low and steady, your eyes locking onto his with a fierce intensity of your own. You reached out, your hand hesitating for a fraction of a second before you let your fingers brush against the loose fabric of his tie.
Spencer let out a shaky hitched breath, his eyes dropping to your lips.
"I was trying to get your attention," you murmured, looking up at him through your lashes. "I was loud and playful because it was the only time you would actually look up from your paperwork and notice I was in the room. I don't want them Spencer, I've been waiting for you."
"Fuck it," he rasped, his eyes dilated so wide the hazel almost vanished into black.
He reached out, his long fingers tangling fiercely into the hair at the back of your head, his other hand gripping your waist with a bruising possessive pressure and pulled you violently against him as his mouth crashed down onto yours.
It wasn't a gentle kiss, it was clumsy, desperate and completely feral.
A soft breathless whimper escaped your lips and the sound only seemed to drive him crazier. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, burying your fingers deep into his soft brown hair. You kissed him back with an equal starving hunger, your tongue sliding against his, tasting the dark intoxicating heat of pure desire.
Spencer groaned, a deep vibration that rumbled right into your chest. He staggered forward, completely blind to his surroundings, his lips never leaving yours for a single fraction of a second.
You backed up willingly, your legs tangling with his until the back of your knees hit the soft edge of your living room sofa. You tumbled backward onto the cushions and Spencer came down right on top of you, his heavy body a comforting solid weight.
You didn't want a single inch of space between you, you hooked your thighs around his hips and pulled him closer, guiding him until he sank down between your legs.
With a rough tug, Spencer gripped your hips and hoisted you upward, shifting his weight until you were completely straddling his lap.
The burning heavy heat of his thighs pressed directly against your bare skin, a searing contact that ignited the raw hunger he had been suppressing for months.
Without a second of hesitation, his large trembling hands slid down your waist, his palms dragging possessively over the exposed skin of your outer thighs, his long fingers digging firmly into your flesh, tracing upward until his hands molded perfectly to the burning heat of your bare hips.
The kiss became entirely unhinged, he was devouring you, his lips sliding from your mouth to bite at your bottom lip then instantly sucking it back in, his breathing so loud and ruined it filled the quiet apartment.
You arched your back into him, your hands moving from his hair to grip his broad shoulders, pulling his chest flush against yours as your hips tilted instinctively into his lap.
When he finally broke the kiss, it was only because his lungs were screaming for air. He dragged his mouth away, a thin wet silver thread breaking between your lips.
Both of you were completely breathless, your chests heaving violently against one another.
Spencer’s head dropped into the crook of your neck, his forehead resting against your collarbone as he sucked in a sharp ragged breath. His heart was hammering so fast against your ribs it felt like a trapped bird.
"You're..." Spencer panted, his voice completely wrecked, dropping an octave into a gravelly, breathless whisper. He pressed a hot wet kiss right beneath your jaw, his lips dragging against your sensitive skin, "...you are so incredibly... unprofessional."
A breathless euphoric laugh bubbled up from your throat, even now -completely unraveled and hard as a rock beneath you- his brain was trying to process it.
"Shut up Spencer," you murmured, tilting your head to the side to give him better access.
You reached down, your fingers catching the hem of his loosened dress shirt. You began tugging the buttons free, your hands trembling as you popped them out of their holes, wanting the barrier gone.
Spencer didn't help you, he was entirely consumed by the texture of your skin. As your hands worked the shirt open, exposing the pale smooth expanse of his chest, his mouth trailed down your neck, biting gently at the junction where your shoulder met your neck, making you gasp and arch into him.
His large hands kept running frantically up and down your bare thighs, his palms smooth but firm, bunching the oversized shirt higher and higher up your waist until there was absolutely nothing between his hands and your skin. He squeezed your thighs, lifting you slightly just to press his hips up against yours, a low needy growl escaping his throat when he felt how soft and completely bare you were for him.
"Look at me," you whispered, finally pushing his shirt off his shoulders, letting it pool around his elbows.
Spencer looked up, his face flushed a dark beautiful crimson, his eyes completely pitch black with blown out desire. He looked completely untamed.
You didn't give him a chance to speak, you leaned down and captured his lips again, smothering whatever academic thought was left in his head.
This time, the kisses became slower, heavier and agonizingly deep. You sucked on his top lip, soothing the sting with the tip of your tongue before he groaned and took over, pulling your upper lip into his mouth, tasting you over and over until your brain felt entirely fried.
"I need to touch every single inch of you," he rasped as he gripped the hem of your shirt. He violently yanked it up and over your head, throwing it carelessly onto the floor. Spencer’s breath caught completely, his hands trembling as he stared down at your bare skin under the dim light of the room. "Look at you… you're fuckin perfect."
He didn't wait a single second, he lunged back in, his mouth crashing not against your lips this time but against your jaw, his teeth scraping gently over your skin, leaving a wet trail down the column of your neck.
Your head fell back as the heavy friction of his mouth drove you absolutely crazy. You were so desperate for him to finally touch you below the waist, to end the agonizing ache that a wave of sheer physical frustration took over your body.
You tilted your hips blindly into his lap, your hands sliding down to frantically tug at his belt. "Spencer... please, no more waiting," you begged rawly, a tight sob catching in your throat as your fingers fumbled uselessly with his clothes. "I can't take this... please just fuck me... I need you inside-"
Driven by his own need to punish you more, his mouth dragged lower. Spencer caught your nipple between his lips and sucked deep and hard, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before pulling it into the heat of his mouth.
A loud horny moan ripped from your lips, echoing off the quiet walls of your apartment. Your head fell back, your fingers tangling frantically in his messy brown hair, pulling him closer to your chest.
The sheer intense friction of his tongue sent a violent jolt of electricity straight between your thighs, making you tilt your hips instinctively against his covered lap.
He switched to the other breast, lashing his tongue over the peak, sucking until you were shaking beneath him, whimpering his name like a prayer. He broke the contact by barely an inch, his chest heaving as he fought for air.
"You like that baby?" He panted, his voice a dark gravelly rasp you had never heard from him before. "Tell me… do you like it when I touch you like this? When I bite you?"
"Yes!... Fuck yes Spencer… please," you sobbed out, your hands sliding down to his chest, feeling his heart hammering at a dangerous rapid fire speed. “I need you… I need you right now… ple-”
The admission seemed to break whatever thread of sanity he had left. Before you could even finish the word, Spencer leaned up, his large hands anchoring your jaw as he violently pulled you down into a crushing desperate kiss.
The thought of how much time they had wasted, how many days he had spent glaring at paperwork while his mind secretly simulated the exact texture of your skin turned into a rough unforgiving urgency.
He dragged his lips away by barely a millimeter, his chest heaving violently as he gripped your face, keeping you entirely pinned to his mouth.
"Three months," he muttered against your lips, his voice tight with an agonizing mixture of fury and need. "Three months of looking at you... of watching you touch everyone else and losing my mind... we wasted so much time."
He didn't give a fuck about fully undressing, the desperation was entirely too high for perfect positioning. With a trembling feral hand, Spencer reached down and violently ripped his belt open, his fingers fumbling with a manic breathless urgency at his zipper just enough to shove his trousers down past his heavy thighs, finally freeing his massive aching length.
It snapped out between you, violently hard, thick and dripping with a heavy coat of precum that smeared instantly against your skin, throbbing like a live wire as it pressed directly against your soaking wet, dripping cunt and a fractured breathless gasp caught in your throat.
Spencer gripped your bare waist with a brutal bruising hold, his fingers sinking deep into your flesh to anchor you. He hoisted your hips up slightly, his chest heaving violently as he forced you to look right into his blown out eyes, letting you see the absolute depraved ruin you had made of his sanity.
"You're mine," he growled, the primitive dirty declaration vibrating right against your mouth. "No one else touches you like this… no one else gets you this fuckin wet."
"Yes... ahh!~... fuck yes," you wailed breathlessly, blindly grinding your soaking wet, dripping entrance up against his hard length, practically begging for the stretch."Please Spencer... now... put it in!"
With a sudden violent downward yank of his hands, he slammed your hips down, completely burying his entire length inside you in one deep brutal thrust.
The sheer shock of it made your eyes snap wide, a loud high pitched scream of pure pleasure tore from your throat but Spencer was already leaning up, capturing your mouth in another heavy bruising kiss that smothered the sound, his tongue forcing its way past your lips to match the sudden violent movement of his hips.
"Fuck… you're so tight," Spencer groaned directly into your mouth, his tongue sliding wetly against yours as his hands anchored your hips. His fingers dug into your waist and with a ruthless heavy heave of his arms, he began physically lifting your body up his length and slamming you back down.
The friction was overwhelming, the combination of his rough heavy pacing, the coarse fabric of his pushed down pants rubbing against your bare thighs and the intense deep stretch of him hitting your sweet spot was too much for your senses to handle.
You let out a broken needy wail, your hands abandoning his shoulders to clutch at his face, your fingers tangling desperately in his hair as you pulled him down into a frantic sloppy kiss. You were completely unraveled, swallowing his hot spit, your mouth working against his as frantically as your hips were rolling against his lap.
Spencer was completely unraveled, hoisting you up and down in a fast punishing cadence. He kept his mouth locked to yours, bruising your lips, swallowing your ragged gasps as he pounded up into you. He could feel how incredibly hot and slick you were, the tight walls of your cunt clamping down around him with every hard thrust.
"Spencer!... I'm… ahh fuck~..." you whimpered, breaking the kiss, your head tossing back as your vision went completely blurry. Your internal muscles violently clamped around him, contracting in a sudden shattering orgasm that rippled through your entire body.
"Fuckin look at you," he growled, his voice dropping into a filthy gravelly rasp as he watched your face twist with pleasure. "You like having my cock inside you don't you? Tell me how good it feels to take it… tell me you're my good whore."
"Spencer… fuck yeah~… I'm yours… nghh~... please… I love it," you sobbed out, your mind entirely short circuited by the high of the orgasm. You couldn't even think straight, you were just blindly rolling your hips against his lap, begging for more of the friction. "I’m yours Spencer... please... cum for me… inside me please..."
The desperate undone admission shattered the very last of his sanity, his hands gripped your waist with a brutal trembling pressure, slamming his pelvis flush against yours as he rode the wave.
"You're a fuckin drug," he choked out, his fingers bruising your waist as he delivered three more deep frantic, incredibly rough thrusts, burying himself to the absolute hilt before a loud deep sound of pure surrender tore from his chest.
His body went completely rigid, his hips locking tightly against yours as he spilled himself deep inside you, his hot length pulsing hard against your contracting walls as you both shook with the violent aftermath of a desperate long awaited release.
Spencer didn't pull out, he stayed buried deep inside you, his heavy forehead resting against your shoulder as his chest heaved, his heart slamming against your ribs.
"Good girl," Spencer panted rawly into your neck, his voice completely broken from the release. He squeezed your waist, pressing himself deeper into your heat. "Fuckin perfect... you took every single inch of me so good baby."
You couldn't even answer, you were slumped heavily against him, your breath hitching in little pathetic stutters. You were completely helpless to the throbbing ache of his thick length stretching you open from below, gravity keeping you sunk all the way down on him.
Spencer’s hands came up to clutch the back of your head, his fingers tangled in your hair as he pulled your face to his. He began kissing you again, not rough this time but incredibly wet, desperate and open mouthed, his tongue lazily sliding against yours, tasting you and your shared heat.
You kissed him back just as hard, your lips slippery against his, small whines escaping you every time his pulsing length twitched deep inside your stretched out core.
"Mmm... you're so mean to me," you whimpered tiredly against his lips, completely out of it as you loosely wrapped your arms around his neck. "You were taking so long... I was almost ready to give up and let someone else do it.”
"You think I'll let anyone else touch you?" He whispered roughly against your lips, his free hand tracing a slow heavy line over your hip and thigh, his touch making your internal muscles squeeze him so tightly that his thick length twitched hard deep inside you.
You just giggled as you pulled him back to kiss him deep. He let out a dark needy growl into your mouth, his hands gripping your waist to anchor you down.
"You're mine," he rasped, breaking the kiss just enough to look at you, his thumb sweeping across your bottom lip. "Every single inch of you is mine and nobody else is ever getting near you."
"Mhmm… I'm yours baby," you whined back, your lips slippery against his as you kissed him more, your hips trembling around his thick length. "I'm all yours... can we please go take a shower?"
"Oh, you think we're done?" Spencer let out a low gravelly chuckle, his eyes darkening as his fingers dug punishingly into your waist. "We're not going anywhere until you can barely stand up, let alone walk to the bathroom."
He was angry at how easily you had undone him, angry that he had spent weeks agonizing in silence while you possessed this total absolute power over his body.
Before you could even process the words, Spencer gripped your thighs tightly and shifted his weight, flipping you beneath him as he drove his body forward. He didn't pull out to move you, he kept himself buried to the hilt as he forced your body backward onto the sofa.
The sudden change in position made him shift inside you, his thick length grinding hard against a dangerously sensitive spot. You let out a sharp breathless gasp, your hands flying to his bare shoulders. "Spencer… wait… I'm…"
"No," he cut you off, his tone flat, unyielding and downright mean. He didn't want to wait, he didn't want to be clinical or polite. "You don't get to tell me to wait, not after making me wait for months.”
He leaned down, his mouth crashing onto yours to stifle your protests and immediately began to move. The pace had changed, it wasn't the frantic rushing scramble from before, it was a heavy, deliberate and deeply punishing rhythm.
He pulled back until he was almost entirely out, letting you feel the full agonizing width of him stretching your dripping entrance wide before slamming back down to the hilt with a loud wet slap of his pelvis, using his weight to pin your hips into the couch cushions.
"Spencer… AHH!~... Please…" You screamed into his mouth, your hands clawing at his back.
He didn't stop, he didn't even slow down. His jaw remained locked as he used his hands to angle your hips up, slamming directly into your sweet spot with a blunt heavy thud.
The sheer force shattered your control, sending a sudden blinding second orgasm rolling through your entire body.
"S-stop... please... Spencer… it’s too... too much!" You sobbed out, your voice breaking as you blindly tried to push at his chest, but even as the word left your lips, your hips instinctively rolled up to meet him, your voice turning into a desperate shriek. "Harder!... Please... harder... fuck... ah-ahh!~... I can't..."
"Make up your fuckin mind," Spencer growled, his breathing loud and completely unhinged as he pushed right through your climax. He maintained his hard unforgiving pace, anchoring your thighs to keep you pinned. "You want me to stop? You’re literally sobbing while your pathetic cunt is begging me for more."
"I'm sorry... ah!~... Spencer please!" You wailed, completely helpless as the pleasure held you under. Your hyper sensitized walls convulsed violently around him in erratic desperate waves, overflowing and coating his length.
He was pounding into you with a steady relentless force, his bare chest grinding roughly against your sensitive wet nipples with every single thrust, smearing your shared sweat between you.
The friction was too intense, your nerve endings -already raw and hyper sensitized- began to scream as a tight electric coil snapped awake in your lower stomach almost instantly. Your breath hitched before you started moaning incredibly loud, your voice echoing off the walls as your entire body shivered.
Feeling how close you already were again, Spencer let out a ragged groan, his mouth crashing back down onto yours to swallow your loud cries as he praised you.
"Good girl, such a needy little whore for me," he mumbled dirty and wet against your lips. "You're close yeah? I can feel you baby come on."
"Ah!~... Spencer... stop... I'm gonna..." You tore your mouth away from his, your head tossing violently against the couch cushion as your hands tried to push against his shoulders.
He didn't stop, he didn't even slow down. His jaw remained locked as he drove himself deeper, using his hands to angle your hips up so he could slam directly into your g-spot with a blunt heavy thud.
The sheer force of the impact shattered your control. Your overstimulated walls convulsed violently, clamping down around his cock like a vice as a sudden blinding second orgasm took over your entire body.
Your back arched completely off the couch, your toes curling as a loud high pitched sob ripped from your throat. Your internal muscles squeezed him in erratic desperate waves that had him groaning out loud against your lips, your cunt overflowing and soaking the cushions beneath you.
Spencer didn't give you a second to breathe. He felt your walls contract, felt the hot slick gush of your cum coating him and it only seemed to make him meaner. Instead of riding out your climax, he pushed right through it, maintaining his hard unforgiving pace and slamming into you while you were still actively cumming.
The friction of his thighs against yours, the heavy pressure of his chest, the relentless deep stretching of his length was an absolute sensory overload.
Your brain was screaming that it was too sensitive, that you couldn't take another friction rub without snapping, yet as your hands frantically gripped his wrists, you weren't pushing him away. Your fingers were clawing into his skin, your hips instinctively tilting upward to meet every punishing downstroke.
You were terrified of the intensity, but the primal desperate part of your brain was utterly addicted to it. You didn't want him to stop, you wanted him to destroy you with it.
“You… you can't get enough of it too yeah?” He whispered in your ear, his voice a dark rough taunt. He bit down on your skin hard enough to leave a deep bruise, his teeth scraping over your pulse point as he kept delivering bruising thrusts that squelched loudly against your overflowing wetness. "Don't tell me to stop when you're moaning and begging for more like a greedy little bitch."
He captured your lips again, his kiss much sloppier and wetter than before, his tongue sliding against yours with a bruising desperate hunger that tasted like your shared breath and sweat. He swallowed your whimpers, turning them into shared groans as he kept up the relentless punishing pace.
He was intentionally rubbing his pubic bone against your overstimulated clit with every single hard drive, driving you absolutely insane.
You let out a broken breathless wail, your hands flying up to grip the back of the couch as your vision went completely white. The overstimulation crossed a dangerous line, turning the excess of sensation into pure unadulterated ecstasy.
Before your body could even fully recover from the last climax, the violent rhythmic pounding dragged you right over the cliff again. This one was deeper, a total full body convulsion that made your hips shudder violently against his.
You went completely limp beneath him, your chest heaving as you cried out his name, your body totally wrecked and still shaking from the climax that wouldn't stop.
“You're so fuckin hot, you're destroying me," Spencer growled, his voice completely raw. He slowed his pace down to a brutal agonizingly slow crawl, dragging his thick length out to the very tip before buried it back in, deliberately making your orgasm last as long as possible. "You're such a good obedient whore… taking it so deep."
"Spencer... please... stop... too far... ah~..." you whimpered, your arms feeling like lead as you weakly tried to push at his chest. You were trying to tell him how good it felt but you were so exhausted that the words just came out as an incoherent slurred mess. "More… p-please…”
Spencer easily caught both of your wrists in one hand, bringing them up to his mouth to press a kiss against your pulsing skin. With a violent jerk, he pinned your hands flat against the cushions directly above your head. He didn't stop that slow torturing friction for a single second, leaning all his heavy weight down to kiss you again.
“You think this is over?” He growled darkly against your lips. "I’m going to ruin you for anyone else tonight… you’re gonna remember exactly who owns this body."
Before you could say a word, he shifted his body, crowding you completely on the narrow couch. He slid his forearm under your right thigh, roughly yanking it upward. The position forced your hips to tilt upward at an extreme, completely exposed angle, tightening your core until it felt like a vice around him.
"I… I can't… Spencer... please… I'm too… sensitive," you sobbed, your head tossing against the cushions, your pinned wrists twisting weakly in his iron grip. "It's too much… nghh~... I'm… I'm gonna…"
"Good," he cut you off brutally, not giving you a single second to adjust to the stretch, he accelerated instantly, unleashing a hard, fast and completely merciless pace.
The friction was monstrous, he was deliberately grinding against your hyper sensitized walls, completely deaf to the way you were weeping, entirely consumed by the primitive need to claim you completely.
He slammed his hips against yours over and over, his heavy weight pinning you down as his cock tore through your slick heat. He leaned down and crashed his mouth back onto yours, his tongue driving inside with heavy rhythmic force that matched his pelvis, swallowing your loud messy sobs.
The room filled with the loud wet slapping sound of his skin punishing yours, the pace so frantic it felt like he was trying to drill right through you. He kept that solid bruising rhythm going, letting the friction build heavily between you until your bodies were slick with sweat.
Gradually, Spencer let out a sharp ragged gasp into your mouth. He felt his own length swelling to the absolute limit, his balls tightening as the climax began to rush up on him.
He ripped his mouth away, his breathing completely unhinged as he grabbed your thighs, hoisting your legs way up over his shoulders. The new angle shifted his cock perfectly and when he slammed back down, he hit your g-spot with a blunt crushing thud.
"Ahhh!~... Spencer!" You shrieked, your eyes rolling back as the direct hit shattered you instantly. Your walls clamped around him like a violent vice, milking him in frantic desperate waves as a new hard orgasm tore through your body, soaking his thighs in a hot gush of your cum.
"Yeah… take it… fuckin cum for me baby," Spencer growled, his voice completely wrecked. Your tight convulsing walls were too much for him to hold back. He groaned out loud, his body going dead rigid as he came deep inside you. A massive thick release pulsing hard into your contracting core.
Instead of stopping, Spencer kept his hips grinding, forcing himself to keep moving in slow heavy friction filled thrusts. He dragged his length back and forth through your pulsing walls, intentionally prolonging the agonizing pleasure for both of you until your bodies were trembling uncontrollably.
Finally, his strength gave out. He collapsed completely over you, his heavy chest heaving violently against your breasts as he buried his face in your neck.
Using the absolute last bit of energy you had left, you weakly wrapped your arms around his broad back, holding him close as he moved to press slow lazy wet kisses against your lips, both of you tasting your shared heat.
When he finally shifted to pull out, a soft pathetic whimper escaped your throat at the cold ache of him leaving you empty. Your overstimulated muscles twitched in protest at the sudden loss of his thickness.
"I got you," Spencer murmured roughly, his voice soft now as he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead. He lingered there for a second, his thumb tenderly wiping away the tears on your cheek while his other hand stroked your tangled hair. "Don't move alright? Just rest... I'm right here."
He sat up on the edge of the sofa, panting heavily as he tiredly pulled his pants back up and fastened them, his shoulders still rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. He didn't even care about his shirt, leaving his bare chest exposed as he leaned back over you, his arms sliding under your back and knees.
Spencer lifted you into his arms, your legs were so weak they felt like jelly, dropping helplessly over his forearms as he carried you out of the living room and into the small dimly lit bathroom.
He gently hoisted you up, setting you down on the cool smooth surface of the sink counter. The sudden contact with the porcelain made you shiver, your thighs parting slightly.
Spencer immediately stepped between your knees, crowding your space again but this time his movements were hyper gentle, almost reverent.
He reached over and grabbed a soft washcloth, turning on the faucet until the water ran warm. As he soaked the cloth, he leaned in, his lips pressing softly and repeatedly against your jawline and the sensitive skin of your neck.
"I'm so sorry," he murmured against your skin, his breath hitching. "I was just... I was so angry at myself and I lost control… I've never lost control like that. Did I hurt you? Please tell me I didn't hurt you."
You reached out, your trembling hands finding his bare shoulders, your fingers digging softly into his skin to pull him closer.
"Spencer, look at me," you whispered, your voice raspy and broken from screaming his name.
He looked up, his eyes wide, swimming with anxiety and regret.
You didn't let him speak, you leaned forward and captured his lips in a slow deep reassuring kiss. It was completely different from the bruising chaos on the couch, it was soft, wet and filled with a quiet reassurance.
You parted your lips, letting your tongue slide against his, tasting him, showing him with the gentle friction of your mouth that you weren't angry.
"You didn't hurt me," you breathed, a small exhausted smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "I loved it… every single second of it. Stop overthinking Spencer."
A shaky breathless laugh escaped his throat, the tension in his broad shoulders finally melting away as he pressed another soft kiss to your lips.
"I'm just an idiot who was terrified you'd never look at me," he mumbled, his voice dropping into a soft quiet tone before he caught himself. "But mostly... I just thought I lost you before I even really had you."
"Well, I'm here with you now," you murmured.
Spencer smiled, a genuine soft expression that reached his eyes. He squeezed the excess water from the warm cloth and with agonizing gentleness, he began to clean you. He wiped the dried sweat from your stomach, his hand slow and steady before moving between your thighs.
Every stroke of the warm cloth was tender, soothing the hyper sensitive throbbing ache between your legs with a care that made your heart swell.
As he cleaned you, he couldn't seem to stop touching you. His free hand rested firmly on your hip, his thumb rubbing small soothing circles into your skin right over the faint red marks his fingers had left earlier.
Every few seconds, he would lean up to plant a soft lingering kiss on your lips, your nose or your forehead as if he needed to constantly remind himself that you were actually here, holding onto him.
You leaned back against the bathroom mirror, your hands sliding up from his shoulders to tangle loosely in his messy hair.
"What are we going to do on Monday?" You asked softly -teasingly- as he tossed the cloth into the sink and wrapped his arms completely around your waist, burying his face in your chest.
Spencer groaned into your skin, his grip tightening possessively around you. "According to section 4, paragraph B of the FBI employee handbook, undisclosed romantic relationships between active field agents can result in reassignment," he muttered, his voice muffled against your skin before he looked up, a fierce unyielding look in his eyes. "But I don't care… I'll transfer to a different unit if I have to. I'm not letting you go."
You laughed softly, leaning down to press one final long kiss to his mouth. "Let's figure that out later, right now… carry me to bed.”