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It was a rare occurrence for Emily to permit you the privilege of being her partner in the professional sense, often opting to pair you with another agent to avoid assumption. She was tightly wound where work was concerned, always anxious and hyper vigilant of prying eyes. Undeniably, she had a right to be worried, encumbered with the fact that she knew you intricately, knew that when those watchful eyes tore themselves away, you could not keep your hands to yourself.
The setting never mattered, utterly enraptured by her ability to command, how she appeared in her natural habitat, her comfort zone, how it contradicted with the way she held herself at home with you. The jet remained the only place free of your sexual escapades, surrounded always by the entirety of the team or at least someone to thwart your advances. You had clear-cut plans to fix that.
The continual vibration of the engine kept you awake, blackness engulfing the windows as you peered out to decipher what lay below, though you couldn’t quite make anything out of the gloom. Emily flicked through case files, pictures, intent on working up somewhat of a profile before you landed, unable to pull her mind from her craft as usual. The depth of her contemplation saw her lip held between her teeth, her ceaseless concentration hindered the moment she had noticed your unswerving glare upon her.
“What?” She drawled, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You’re planning something, aren’t you?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, partner,” you rebutted, defensively, betrayed by the growing smirk that broke out from your lips. “It’s just different, isn’t it?” You continued, observing as she set aside the case flies, submitting to blind curiosity. “We never work cases alone anymore, I guess I just miss it.”
A softened smile claimed her features, a subtle nod of her head signalling her understanding. You knew that Emily missed it too, knew that if policies and politics were not constantly at play then perhaps this would be permitted more often.
“You know why that is,” she remarked, her brow quirking as she shuffled out from her seat and settled herself comfortably in your lap. “Besides, you can never behave yourself. I know you a little too well.”
An inquisitive hum reverberated, your thumbs brushing over her hips as you basked in the sight of her beneath the low lighting.
“Worked up a profile on me, Agent Prentiss?” You questioned, facetiously as you gradually honed in, closing the distance between you, noses brushing against each other with discernible tenderness. “Do tell.”
Even in the dimness of the cabin, her dark eyes seemed to dazzle in contrast, destined to drown in her with no means of escape. Her hands clasped around the nape of your neck, her fingers securely intertwined as your body melted into hers, warmth radiating, persisting.
“Maybe,” she shrugged, coolly, her teeth piercing the murk with a bright, beguiling smile. “And you know I’m never wrong about a profile.”
Softly, you displaced the occluding strands of brunette, the pale skin of her neck revealed to you, a faint gasp falling from her.
“Tell me, Agent Prentiss,” you coaxed, daring to drag your lips along the side of her neck, your breath hot against her smooth skin. “What am I thinking about right now?”
Emily hummed in amusement, the rumblings of excitement finding home inside of her stomach as she craned her neck to allow further exploration of her, willing you into complete tantalisation.
“Nothing good,” she husked, her voice low, exhilarating. “It never is.”
“You win,” you concluded, your smirk etching itself into her pulse point as you suckled a bruise into the porcelain, a menacing thrust of your hips revealing the toy that until now, remained concealed from her. “The question is, would you like to receive your prize here or on your back?”
The feeling of your lips against her neck had momentarily bewitched her, reality crashing down the moment she acknowledged something prodding into the junction of her thighs from below.
“You’re unbelievable,” she opined, rendered powerless against the tactics you had engaged and almost annoyed by her susceptibility.
“And if my profile is correct, Agent Prentiss,” you began, her breath hitching abruptly from the re-emergence of your teasing ministrations, your tongue flecking across the scarlet mark you had branded her with earlier. “I bet you’re already wet.”
The brunette ducked in avoidance of your tongue, her palms enclosing around your cheeks, eyes trained on you with an expression you could not yet ascertain. But, you were certain that she would enlighten you.
“Am I?” She countered, her lips tracing yours so gently that she nearly willed you into surrender, her power visibly restoring itself for a moment. “I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself, hm?”
The tension brimmed until it overflowed in abundance, Emily launching herself with unrivalled desire, her mouth aimless as she kissed you messily. There were no thoughts to be had, driven by carnal magnetism, your hands fusing to her hips to draw her nearer. Instinct began to overtake her as she gyrated against the shrouded bulge, expertly so, intent on extracting as much friction as she could. And, she succeeded as anticipated.
Expletives sprung from her mouth, unbridled filth, so engrossed by the way her clit ground perfectly against the toy that reality slipped from her grasp. Desperation was an understatement, her fist thudding forcefully against your chest, each rigid blow punctuated by a lengthened moan, your hand lifting to encircle her throat.
“Just like that, baby,” you encouraged, your lips crushing into hers for a brief moment before a low groan tore itself from her. “Cum for me, that’s it.”
“Fuck, baby.”
Emily trembled with vigour, a series of whimpers escaping her as she regained clarity, her breathing staggered as she relaxed into you, coils unwinding. She met your stare with a knowing expression, cheeks tinged pink.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” she admitted, shaking her head lightly as she threw a light slap to your arm. “I blame you.”
“Fine with me,” you chuckled, pulling her flush against you once more, your mouth dangerously close to her ear. “But I’m not done with you yet.”
In a swift motion, you yanked her into a standing position, her mouth agape in disbelief having barely been able to gather her composure. Adept fingers hooked themselves below the waistband of her trousers and dragged them down without a flicker of reticence, Emily left to fluster before you, perplexed.
“What are you-“
“You can give me one more, can’t you, baby?” You asked, sweetly, a cunning simper fused to your lips as you freed the strap on from its constriction. “It won’t fuck itself now, will it?”
Emily sank her teeth into her lips once more, a sharp exhale emanating once her stomach had flattened against the table, a biting pang of cold sparking inside of her. With her trousers bunched around her thighs, you vaulted into position, a gentle hand of reassurance caressing the length of her spine before you aligned the toy with her pussy.
“Oh, fuck,” she cursed, the feeling of the tip sliding into her only sending her into a spiralling state, pleasure ricocheting. “Yes, baby.”
“That’s my good girl,” you cooed, shoving in to the hilt of her with ease, her pussy glistening from the arousal that had gathered from earlier.
Patience was futile, the lust that filled the air so suffocating that it appeared to possess you, forging a reckless assault as you pounded into her from behind. Her body rocked with fervour, unable to arrive at a single coherent word, a few stuttering syllables pouring out from her. Your hand lurched forward, sights firmly set on grasping a sizeable fistful of hair as you forced her to take you deeper, harder, her neck elongated from the strength you had exhibited.
“So good for me, baby,” you soothed, wholeheartedly enamoured by her submission, her little sounds furthering the delight. “Taking my cock so well, hm?”
“Ye-s, yes,” she rasped, her lungs deflating with every forceful slam of your hips. “You’re gonna make me cum,” she cautioned, breathlessly. “Gonna-“
The sound that released itself seemed to echo long after its initial existence, the air noticeably warmer, sizzling with body heat, with passion. Softly, you drew her into you and sank down into the cosy chair with her nestled firmly into you. Her soft breaths stymied the silence, a mindless smile cloaking her lips.
“Thank you,” she spoke, her voice muffled lightly against you.
“For what?” You asked, peering to discern the expression that donned her face and fearful to find a strange twinkle of validation, of victory.
“For proving my point,” she reasoned, a finger directed at your face in jest. “We are never working a case together, ever again.”