Holding the Butterfly

“I dreamed of you.” The statement came out of nowhere, floating somewhere above her.

Grissom held himself over her, positioned on all fours. Sara rolled onto her back waiting for the rest of the story while she blinked sleep from her eyes. When he didn’t continue, she lifted her head, giving him a soft “good morning” kiss.

Her lips whispered over his cheek, “You want to share the dream?”

Grissom kissed his way down her jaw, as he considered the images he’d seen earlier. His lips pressed against a tender spot below her ear, making her squirm.

“I saw you walking along a cliff, by the sea. It must have been somewhere up north, because it felt… cold. You were carrying a glass box with a butterfly inside it. You opened the box, but the butterfly didn’t fly away.”

Sara looked into his eyes for a moment, trying to gauge the seriousness of the dream. “Was it dead?”

“No, it just sat on the bottom of the box, flexing its wings every so often. Then, you closed the lid, and it fluttered around. But, the minute you opened it, the butterfly settled down again.”

Grissom braced himself on his right hand, sliding the other to rest at her hip, rubbing the soft material of her over-sized shirt against her skin.

She smiled up at him, bemused by their discussion, though so happy he was home, the dark topic couldn’t dampen her spirit. “That’s… odd.”

His head dipped to steal another kiss from her lips while he fingered the hem, his hand eventually slipping beneath, caressing her skin as his hand moved over her torso. As he shifted to cup a soft breast, she arched into his touch. He grasped the warm weight, feeling her nipple jutting into the palm of his hand. Her lips parted in a soft sigh, inviting him to deepen the kiss. With the movements of his tongue against hers, Sara moaned into his mouth, urging him to give her more.

A disappointed whimper followed the loss of Grissom’s hand against her skin, moving in the effort to remove her shirt. Eventually, Sara raised her arms and he lifted it free, tossing it away from their bed.

Immediately, she pressed into his chest, eager for the tactile feelings of skin on skin. Grissom’s arms enveloped her, one hand between her shoulder blades, sliding towards her nape, while the other slipped inside her panties, kneading the soft flesh of her butt. He rolled to the side, taking Sara with him. Her hands slid across the plane of his back, as the need between them seemed to pulse and grow.

She raised her leg over his hip, pressing her center against the increasingly tented ridge in his boxers, grinding against him for a moment, Grissom answering with thrusts of his own. Their lips broke apart in a mutual gasp for air, eyes wide, and chests heaving.

Grissom’s lips began to descend as he pressed her back into the bed. He kissed along her collarbones, his tongue sneaking out to lap at the light sheen of sweat coating her body. The tickle of his newly returned beard, something she realized she missed from their early days together, caused her to squirm; waves of heat seemed to radiate from any place his lips touched. Finally, his head dipped to take a nipple into his mouth.

“Mmmm…” Sara’s moan of approval sounded from above as he laved the pink crest with his tongue.

Nuzzling his nose over the valley between her breasts, he moved towards its twin, pressing random kisses to her sternum along the way.

His stubble scraped down the soft skin of her belly, and she began to twine her fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck, as he continued to rub his beard over her skin.

“Griss… I need-” She lifted her hips, allowing him to slide her panties down her legs.

The sound that followed Sara’s supplication was somewhere between a hiccup and a sigh; occurring the moment Grissom tucked his hand into the damp heat between her thighs. His fingers slicked through her wetness, pressing against her clit for a moment before he insinuated two of them into her core, brushing against her g-spot in a burning tease. Sara’s hips began to rock in need, begging for release. Then, his tongue was teasing past her lips, lapping against the throbbing bud, mimicking the stroke of his fingers. He could feel her body beginning to tense, as her muscles began to flutter against his fingers. Two more strokes, and she was gone, a low moan sounding from her chest as she came against his mouth and fingers.

Grissom slowed his ministrations, and watched as Sara shuddered through the aftershocks still shooting from within.

She released a shaky sigh, her gaze sliding over his face as she waited for his next move. Her fingers caressed the damp hair at his temples, feeling the urge to taste the sweat shining over his skin.

Then she realized, he had finally come home to her, she didn’t need to wait for his next move, she knew what he wanted. Sara smirked at him before slipping her hands over his shoulders; her short nails scraping against his skin as she urged him forward. He slowly began to indulge her wishes, pressing wet kisses along the way; his beard, sticky with her juices, both scratching and sliding against her skin.

Her hands traced invisible patterns across his skin, tickling and caressing his sides, eventually slipping into the gap of his boxers. She stroke against his erection for a moment before moving to slip the elastic over his hips. Sara’s hand came back to caress the hot suede of his shaft, her touch maddeningly gentle.

“I missed this,” he said, before pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

Sara’s tongue slipped into his mouth again, sighing at the mingled taste of herself and Grissom.

She pulled back with a sigh, “Oh yeah, me too.”

A few more strokes of her hand, and Grissom had positioned himself at her opening; Sara guiding him. He slid home with a slow caress, groaning at the sensations surrounding him. They looked into each other’s eyes, Sara nodding when she was ready to move.

“Sss-Sara, missed…”

“Godyes,” she hitched her hips to his, loving the feel of him inside her once again.

Their pace became more frenzied, and Sara slipped a hand between them pressing against her clit. Grissom’s head dropped to her shoulder, his beard scraping the tender skin of her neck.

The vibrations of Grissom’s groan seemed to travel through Sara’s body. She swiveled her hips against his, feeling the beginnings of another orgasm.

“SaraGodSara-”

One more hard thrust and she was gone, coming around him, while he pressed into her with urgency, culminating in a staccato of short thrusts as he came, his frame collapsing on top of her.

“I missed this too,” Sara caressed the sweat-slicked skin of his back, loving the weight of him on and inside her.

Grissom’s agreement was muffled into her neck, and she giggled, feeling the combination of his hot breath and whiskers tickling against her skin. They held each other as their hearts and breathing returning to normal, savoring the moment.

“Griss…” Sara paused, carefully choosing her next words. “I think you’re the butterfly.”

He pulled away from her, looking into her eyes, obviously confused by the turn of conversation.

“What?”

“In your dream… I think you’re the butterfly.”

His face morphed into a skeptical frown.

“Just- just hear me out.”

Grissom lay back on the pillows, pulling Sara to rest her head on his shoulder.

“The way I see it, the butterfly doesn’t know what it wants. It’s imprisoned, but at the same time, it’s free to go when it chooses; yet it remains.”

“Sara I’m not-“

“Not finished yet. If I remember correctly, butterflies signify a need to settle down… maybe in your life, personal or professional. Griss, you’ve been going through a lot of changes in both of those areas, it makes sense that you’d be a little confused, maybe want to find the time to rest or settle” she explained.

Grissom began to object again, stopped by the touch of Sara’s finger to his lips.

“I know. The good thing here, is so does your subconscious. Every time that I would have set the butterfly free…” she trailed off.

“It stayed.” Grissom finished.

“See?” she smirked.

Grissom pulled her into a hug, enjoying the feeling of her warm skin against his.

“How do you know what a butterfly means?” Grissom asked.

Sara laughed at the doubtful tone of his voice. “When you sent me that cocoon, I started having some rather strange dreams. I did a little internet research, and that’s what I came up with.”

He pressed a soft kiss into her hair, “I love you.”

“Mmmm, I definitely missed hearing that.” Sara sighed. “I love you too.”