Against Protocol (Aaron Hotchner X Reader)

chapter six: lustful apologies

He begins to corner you into the wall, with each step making you feel smaller and smaller. "Finally, I have my brat all alone. Everybody thinks you're such an innocent angel, but I know what a whore you are when you're alone."

His finger pushed aside your panties and trailed your wet slits. He brought his fingers to your mouth, trailing them at your bottom lip. "Open," he demands, skillfully lodging his fingers into your mouth and forcing you to taste. "Taste."

"Would an innocent angel be this wet already?"

He brings you to his bedroom, a large room with a master bed in the dead-center of the room. He flips you against the bed sheets as he overpowers you, suspending your hands down with the weight of his body. His fingers intertwined with yours while he whispers, "I told you I'd make it up to you."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" you breathe out as his hands abruptly push your legs apart, stretching them out enough that he could get closer to your core. Normally, you would feel exposed, but with Hotch every inch of bare skin, every button undone was comforting and exhilarating.

"Like this," he brusquely replies before his rough hands find the sensitive nerves of your inner thigh. He knows every point of sensitivity and uses it to pleasure you. He begins to stroke your clit as your fulfillment mounts. A small moan escapes your mouth unintentionally, already feeling the tangle of euphoria build up inside you.

He pushes two fingers inside you, curling his fingers as they push up against your wall. He keeps an increasing pace as he pushes into you with the perfect pressure. His fingers continued to run in and out of you, snaking their way through your entrance sinfully. Unexpectedly, his palm comes down on your clit with even more precision, and the sudden, familiar orgasmic sensation grows overwhelmingly.

"Fuck," you murmur out as your thighs uncontrollably squeeze together under his pressure. You can't help but lose control with every push.

"Tell me how good I make you feel," he commands, going unbearably slower to tease you. "I need to hear what a pathetic whore you are."

"So good," you moan out, arching your back with his sensual touch as continues playing with you.

"So good . . . what? I don't need to remind you to be professional," he asserts, his voice deep and dark as his palm comes down harder on your clit. In that moment, you lose self-control — unable to bend to your own will. You are his.

"So good, sir," you whimper out as you near climax. Your mouth opens, moaning inaudibly in pleasure. "Let me cum on your fingers. Please."

"What a good girl you've been so far, Y/N. Cum for me."

You release yourself on his fingers, feeling the extreme high as his fingers continue to push into you. You loved every inch he went deeper, even as you felt weaker and weaker. 

"I don't care if you can't take it. Cum for me again. I want to see your legs trembling when I'm done with you."

You can barely think as your senses override your thoughts. Everything in your vision washes out as you let his fingers dominate you one more time, every push hitting you closer to ecstasy again. Your legs shake as you build up to your release again.

He drags his fingers out slowly, smirking as you pant. "You're so beautiful," he compliments, stroking your hair softly. "Everyday I saw you come into the office with a tight skirt and that witty attitude of yours, and it took everything in me not to pin you down in front of everyone and make you take me until you couldn't walk."

Your cheeks burn as he stares down at you lovingly, and there's a small crinkle in the corner of his lips that he tries to hide.  He gets up, sitting at the edge of the bed now. He stretches out his leg and begins with his hypnotizing voice. "Come. Sit."