Delicious

Birthday fic for phdelicious. Previously posted on my livejournal.

Prompt: Smut set post Grave Danger, their 1st time and a little kinky. Should also incorporate a banana.

A/N:Thanks to belismakr for her majorly fantastic beta skills and reminding me to breathe when I was freaking out…henceforth, she is to be addressed as Mistress of Dirty Fruit.

Bananas. He always brought bananas.

Curious, yet knowing he had a reason for everything he did, she had asked him once why he never brought oranges or strawberries to go with whatever other food they were having for breakfast (yogurt, waffles, granola, eggs, some sort of bread) and he had answered with a treatise on the exceptional qualities of the banana. “Well, the average banana has approximately 358 milligrams of potassium; as much time as you spend in the heat you need that. Plus, they have magnesium and B6 and C. Not many people are aware bananas have over a gram of protein; being a vegetarian, any extra boost to your protein intake is helpful.”

Her eyebrows climbed into her forehead but she refrained from any pronouncements about paternalistic or controlling behavior.

Flushing slightly, he noted the look on her face and admitted. “I really like bananas; they’re delicious.”

Smiling, at him, she sliced the fruit into her cereal and decided to accept his explanation and silently, secretly cherished whatever thought for her well being that came with the yellow fruits he brought to her.

Naturally suspicious, she abhorred pity, rejected it with venom and violence. After her confession to him about her parents and her past she had not expected his renewed presence in her life. Yet, he began asking her to breakfast at the diner several times a week.

In the beginning she had tried to refuse beyond the first one, but he had cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head and waited for her to find an excuse he couldn’t shoot down. It occurred to her that this was his way of ensuring his faith in her was not misplaced, monitoring her for signs of imminent breakdown or blow up. Sighing, she had acquiesced every time he asked. She tried not to, yet she found herself not only enjoying the time together but looking forward to the next occasion.

After the attack by Adam Trent, he had eagerly, nervously sought her ought after shift, asking if she wanted breakfast. She had smiled, tremulously, and tried to back out.

“You know, Griss, that food…it’s just not all that healthy and I well…” She shrugged, expecting him to fall in with her lame excuse. Instead his face clouded and he blinked at her for several seconds until she felt compelled to continue, “I, uh…” She shook her head. “I’d like to go home and change and…”

His face had cleared and she thought she was off the hook until he nodded. “I’ll stop at the store and pick up some things then I’ll be there.”

He had shown up fifteen minutes after she got home with cinnamon raisin bread, yogurt and bananas. Despite striving for a normal tone in their breakfast small talk, he couldn’t seem to stop staring at the red abrasion on her neck. In the middle of buttering her raisin toast, her patience, already frayed, had snapped. She had grabbed his hand placed it against her neck in irritation. “Staring doesn’t seem to be enough! Here, feel it.”

All her life, her anger had always been matched with anger. But somehow the infinitely tender stroke of his fingers against the mark along the column of her throat brought tears to her eyes. She watched him look at it intently, trying, it seemed, to count every inflamed and abraded skin cell with his eyes, measuring how close it was to her carotid. Moving down her neck a mere fraction of an inch, his fingers touched her jumping pulse, lingering for long moments. They both held there not speaking, feeling everything change, but neither able to say anything about it.

After that, breakfast at the diner several times a week had turned into breakfast at her apartment every morning. They didn’t talk about what they were doing or where they were headed; some mornings they didn’t talk at all. He didn’t touch her again and she didn’t touch him. They circled each other, both wary and hopeful, each contemplating the next necessary and potentially dangerous shift in their relationship.

Then Nick was taken, and it was twenty-four hours of hell and several more in the aftermath of processing the scene and waiting at the hospital. By the time she stumbled home that Sunday morning, she was running on raw nerves and bad coffee.

She showered, and donned a tank top and a pair of pajama bottoms. Her right knee had just made it to the mattress when she heard a firm, slightly louder than usual knock on her door.

He wouldn’t come this morning would he?

Sara made her way to the door and put an eye to the peep hole. Yes, evidently he would.

She swung the door open and he entered without a word. She expected him to be on the brink of collapse, but he wasn’t. Day old bagels in one hand, a bunch of slightly green bananas in the other, he fairly hummed with intense energy.

Shaking her head slightly, Sara began, “I thought you’d still be at the hospital.”

Bread and bananas landed on the coffee table and she got a brief glimpse of his glittering eyes before she was brought up sharply against his body and his mouth pressed against hers, hard.

For seven years, she had been thinking and dreaming about what it would be like to kiss Gil Grissom for the first time. In her mind’s eye, it was either tentative and tender or sweet and romantic, not this hot, wet press of lips. His arms wrapped her close, so close into him, almost as if he were trying to pull her body into his.

She didn’t stop him to ask what was going on, she didn’t want or need to question it or him. This was no surprise. They had both known they would eventually end up here. It was just a matter of time.

His hands, his strong beautiful hands moved up to cup her face as she buried her fingers in his hair. She could feel his breath against her face as he changed the angle of his lips and deepened the kiss, making her moan at the heated perfection of his mouth, his mouth! Those lips…those perfect goddamn lips moving against hers and when the sound of her moan found its way out of her mouth, his tongue found its way in.

Everything…all of it…the emotional distance, the protective walls, the tentative friendship, the professional relationship…all of it, scattered to the winds in the reality of this moment. There was passion and lust and fire and yearning and love and need and it was all wrapped up right in that moment. His tongue rubbed against hers; he tasted like mint (from gum or candy or breath spray not toothpaste) and coffee and…Grissom, god, he tasted like Grissom and she felt her nipples harden and her vaginal muscles tightened in anticipation.

She slid her hands inside his jacket, attempting to push it off his shoulders while pulling him closer and backing up towards the sofa. His hands moved from her and he broke the kiss, gasping. “I can’t, Sara, I can’t…”

She felt her heart squeeze and her breath stop and then the jacket was in a heap on the floor and his arms were around her again. “I can’t go another day without you,” he continued.

She choked out a sound that was half relieved laugh, half overwrought sob. “You don’t have to,” she shook her head. “You never had to.” She pulled his head down into a searing kiss and began working on the buttons of his shirt.

It was a whirlwind of texture and sensation…his lips on her neck, sucking, kissing, nipping…her hands on the bare skin of his chest…his hands under her tank top stroking the warm skin of her stomach while his tongue danced in her mouth….the feel of the sofa against her back…the feel of his body pressing her into the cushions…both of her hands squeezing his ass as she felt her body warming, getting wet while his tongue alternately sucked and flicked her earlobe…sighs and moans and clothes and skin and almost no clothes and her breasts pressing into his bare chest and the only thing separating them was his unbuttoned jeans.

His mouth was devouring her. She felt like she was being worshipped and swallowed all at once. Suddenly, she felt his hand part her folds and a thick finger dip into her. Their groans were simultaneous; Grissom watched desire and ecstasy warring on her features. “God, Sara, you’re so wet.” A second finger joined the first.

Gasping, she arched against his hand, rubbing her slick folds against him. “I want…ah…” she shivered, “I want you inside me.” Her hand slid into his jeans, fingers and palm closing around the hot, hard length of him. The air felt sultry, filled with the floral smell of Sara’s shower gel, the smell of fresh earth still clinging to Grissom and the musky scent of desire and sex rolling off of both of them.

“Yes,” he hissed and thrust against her hand, leaning down for another sweltering kiss.

Marveling at the feel of him against her palm...thick, heated, suede soft and steel hard, she pumped him, feeling a dollop of pre-ejaculate land in her palm. Despite his hiss of displeasure, she released him to bring her hand up to her mouth and lick it clean.

“Jesus, Sara…” He shuddered at the pure erotic sight of her eyes wide and dark watching his face as she pulled her palm down the length of her outstretched tongue then rubbing the salty substance between her tongue and her palate, finally savoring the full taste of him.

His pants were halfway down his thighs and she had her hands on him again when he suddenly stilled. “Please, god, please tell me you’re on the pill.”

Eyes wide, she shook her head.

“Do you have any condoms?” He didn’t sound hopeful.

She felt herself wilting with disappointment and frustration. “No” she swallowed heavily. “I’m guessing you don’t either.”

“Damnit!” His fist pounded the back of the couch in frustration.

“You could pull out,” her voice was a whimper.

His groan was filled with temptation and frustration. “There’s no way, there’s just no way.”

She wanted to weep. “Oh, god, please?” She arched herself up into him, rubbing herself against the hard ridge of his bobbing erection

He rested his forehead against hers, “Sara, I swear to you, once I’m inside you…I am not going to pull out of you until we both come.” He was practically growling. “I want to feel you around me…I’d never be able to be in you and pull out, not after all this time. I’m not that strong…I’d never be able to do it.”

She whimpered again, a high, pitiful discouraged sound.

Drawing in a shaky breath, he squeezed his eyes shut. “Let’s just…” another breath, “calm down for a minute and I’ll go get some condoms…just…” He looked into her dark and desperate eyes and he was lost again…he melted against her, pressing his lips into the warm, sweet skin of her neck.

She moaned at the feel of his warm wet mouth and squeezed his ass in both of her hands and calm was no longer an option nor was stopping. His fingers were back in her as his mouth lowered to encase a nipple, humming his pleasure at the taste and feel of her.

Somehow, she managed to break herself away from the twin pleasures of his mouth and fingers and wriggled out from under him. “Sara? What…?” Half alarmed, fully aroused he blinked at her, a look of raw longing on his face, and clumsily, he sat up.

“Shhhh…” she silenced leaning down to lightly bite on his bottom lip “I’ve been wanting to do that forever.” Gracelessly, she dropped to her knees, her mouth landing on his right knee and she began kissing her way up his hair-roughened thigh.

“Sara…” The deep rumble of his voice was touched with something…desperation or warning, she wasn’t sure which.

She buried her nose in the bristly hair surrounding his impressive girth and breathed in the tangy maleness of his scent before speaking. “Let me, Gris, please.” She swiped at his stomach with her tongue, even though his muscles tensed she felt him acquiesce beneath her hands and she smiled. Licking her palm for lubrication she took him firmly in hand, pumping him as she alternated kissing each of his inner thighs, listening to his increase in breathing.

“I can’t wait…” She ran her tongue over the crease where his thigh met his pelvis and his hips lifted involuntarily. “I promise, after this…” She placed a loving, wet kiss at the base of his straining erection and his head fell back against the sofa…“you can go get condoms and we can start all over again. But right now…” She licked a moist trail up the underside of his iron shaft and he groaned. She swirled her tongue around the engorged purple tip, thoroughly coating it with her saliva. “I just need to taste you.” In a move so quick and slickly erotic he thought he might come in that instant, she sucked several inches of his erection into her mouth with a slurping sound that vibrated all the way through him.

Keeping her mouth on him, moving up and down on his rigid length with moist squelching sounds she also kept her hand at the base of his cock, pumping in a counter rhythm and she cupped his balls with her other hand. Every third or fourth stroke of her mouth onto him she would take him far into her mouth, as far as she comfortably could, nearly gagging several times but it was worth it to hear the unintelligible syllables and lust-filled moans falling from him.

After several minutes of intense fellatio, she felt herself pulled up off of his prick, off of the floor. “Gris? What…”

He lifted her, placing her on her side on the sofa, pressing her long spine into the back of the cushions. His face was flushed and he was panting as he ran his hands over her breasts. “I might not be able to come inside you right now, but I’m not going to come alone.” He shook his head. “From now Sara, we’re in this together. Forever.”

She hadn’t known it was possible to feel this intensely turned on and romantically moved at the same time. Grabbing his arm, she pulled him down to her and kissed him with all the passion and love she was feeling for him in that moment. He caressed her breasts, and rocked his erection against her as his lips moved against her.

She broke the kiss, shifting down his body, touching as much skin as she could with hands and mouth and breasts. He shifted with her so they were lying curved into each other, face to pelvis in the classic sixty-nine position. Inhaling deeply, he pulled in the musky smell of her arousal. Slowly, he delved his tongue along her cleft, wrapping his arm around her ass as she bucked under the caress. He repeated the stroke and she cried out. “Gris!”

Hiding a feral smile against her mound, he circled her clit with his tongue, holding on tight as she bucked again. “God, I want you.” As she ground out her need, her hot breath blew across his cock and she placed a kiss against his balls, then ran her tongue over the sack, causing him to suck her clit fully into his mouth. She whimpered. “I want…I want to be filled up…I want to be filled up with you.” She stroked up his shaft with the broad flat of her tongue.

He inserted a finger into her dripping folds and she wriggled against it as he continued to lap at her clit and nether lips. “Want to feel you in me,” she panted. “I just…it’s not enough.” Later, he wouldn’t be able to say what came over him when the thought struck; it was nothing he had ever tried or considered before. He blamed it on frustration and the desire, right then and there, to give her everything she asked for.

Licking him continually, sometimes with light pointed strokes of her tongue, others with broad strikes she didn’t see and barely felt when he reached over her legs and grabbed the bananas from the coffee table. Breaking one off from the bunch, the remainder landed on the floor. Quickly, he peeled it and broke it in half.

He returned his mouth to her mound, delighted with her appreciative moans. His tongue swiped over her opening and he nibbled on her clit causing her to writhe and cry out. Taking the banana, he drew it down her cleft, parting her folds with it. He felt her stiffen slightly. “What are you doing?”

“Experimenting.” Dipping the banana into her and back out again, he ran his tongue over her. “Trust me?” He flicked her clit with his index finger.

“Yesssss…” she hissed and went back to showering his cock with long licks.

Carefully, he skated over her clit with the firm fruit, circling the nub. She wriggled against him, gasping, surprised and embarrassed but so willing to do as he said and trust him. She felt him push the banana into her again, then pull it out in a mimic of sex, but she also felt his breath against her, his hands and mouth on her as she felt him stroke against her again with the fruit.

Breathing deeply, she took him back in her mouth and decided not to think about what was going on; she would feel instead and at the moment she felt…delicious.

Inserting one finger, then another into her, he pressed the fruit against the bud of her sex, rubbing it back and forth even as his fingers began a rocking rhythm into and out of her sopping vagina. He kissed over her belly, circling her navel with his tongue working fingers and fruit in tandem, trying to concentrate on the erotic rhythm he was playing against Sara’s skin, but quickly being overtaken by the suckling rhythm she was playing on him.

The moist heat of her mouth moving on and off him in slurping bobs of her head was rapidly overcoming all thought. He rocked into her mouth and felt the answering rocking motions of her hips against his head and hands. Feeling his balls begin to tighten, knowing he couldn’t hold out much longer, not with the sweet, sassy mouth of Sara Sidle surrounding his prick, he moved his mouth back to her clit, batting it back and forth with his tongue, nibbling on it with his teeth, pressing his lips against her there, right there, not to get her to come, but because he loved her, had loved her for years and his cock was in her mouth and he wanted to wrap his arms and lips around her and feel her come undone, know he had pleased her.

Suckling the delicate bud between his lips, he swiped at it with his tongue and sucked it into his mouth. He felt her begin to stiffen, felt the strokes of her mouth become deeper but more erratic. Curling the fingers buried inside her, he used his tongue to press her clit back into her body and he felt the muscles of her inner walls quake and tremble as they spasmed around his digits. Her keening cry around his cock caused a shuddering vibration to pass through him and he gritted his teeth and giving an involuntary half thrust he felt himself turn inside out and shot himself into her mouth.

For long moments the only sound in the room was their harsh breathing. Slowly, he shifted up towards her and curled himself around her, pressing languid kisses to her shoulder, into her hair, onto her cheeks. She looked up at him through thick lashes. “Wow.”

He laughed. “Succinct. Eloquent.” He nodded. “I concur. Wow.”

Reaching up, she pulled his face to hers and kissed him with a slow, thoughtful thoroughness. She sighed. “I’ll miss you.”

His heart rate, which had been beginning to slow, accelerated suddenly and his eyes widened as panic seized him. “Why? When?”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “When you go out to get condoms.” She waggled her eyebrows. “If that was the pre-show, I can’t wait for the main event.”

Relieved and laughing slightly, he wrapped her in his arms, savoring the feel of her naked skin against his. “You don’t want to come with me?”

Smirking, she ran her tongue through the bearded cleft of his chin. “I just did and I’m sure I will again. But you’re going to the store on your own.”