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She carefully climbed out of bed, walked out of the room quietly so as not to wake him. The stairs creaked under her steps and she cursed them silently but didn’t turn back. She was hungry and she knew that there were oranges in the fridge.
At first she had wondered why he kept them in the fridge, when she had grown up her mother had kept them in a bowl on the kitchen table. Had turned the spots that had started to rot to the bottom, so the guests wouldn’t see. In a way these oranges had represented her childhood.
She grabbed one of the cool fruits out of the fridge and settled down on the counter, started to peel it with a knife, strip by fragrant strip until her hands smelled like oranges and the fruit was exposed.
For some reason she enjoyed these quiet times in the middle of the night, when the house was quiet and Grissom was sleeping and the dog was so used to her sneaking downstairs that he didn’t care to follow her anymore.
Slowly, deliberately, she started to pull the orange apart, licked the juice off her fingers and put the first slice in her mouth. She loved it when the soft skin broke, when the juice squirted out and the taste, that sweet and slightly sour taste filled her mouth. With her eyes closed, she savored the taste before she set the next slice against her lips, bit into it and sucked the juice out of the fruit.
So many good ways to eat an orange. So many decidedly naughty ways to eat one, too. Sara grinned to herself as she peeled off the next slice, licked up the outside of it to taste any tiny drops of juice that clung there. Then she bit off the end again, sucked the juice out of the fruit before she finally put the whole thing in her mouth and chewed.
Oranges were her favorite fruit.
And they were starting to grow on Grissom, too as he stood by the stairs, gripping the rail tightly and watching Sara as if she was having sex with someone in the middle of his kitchen.
She hadn’t heard him come downstairs, wasn’t aware of him watching her as she ate her orange, licked and sucked on it and managed to make his head spin in the process.
Who knew eating a fruit could be this sexy?
Finally he stepped forward, stepped into the kitchen and stopped right in front of her. She stared at him, slightly startled, mouth agape with another slice of delicious orange mere inches from it.
He took the fruit out of her hand and looked into her eyes.
“Take it off.” he said, his voice deep and slightly menacing.
“Wha- what?” her eyes clung to the fruit he had taken out of her hand, wondering what had happened to her quiet nightly longing for vitamin C.
“Off. Take your shirt off.” he almost ordered, his hand finding the hem of the spaghetti top and lifting it.
She complied, helped him lift it up and over her head. With the typical sound fabric made when it landed on tile, the shirt fell to the floor and Sara was left sitting in a pair of boy shorts and a blush that slowly crept into her cheeks.
“Griss…” she whispered as he bit off a tiny piece of the orange slice he held in his hand and leaned towards her.
His finger on her lips silenced her as he placed the slice against her collarbone, drew it down between her breasts and back up to her collarbone. His eyes never leaving hers, he leaned even closer and licked the juice off her skin. It tasted sweet and fresh and so much like her that he thought this was what heaven must taste like.
She hissed softly, his warm tongue tingling on the path the cool, sticky juice had left behind.
“How does that feel?” he asked softly.
“G- good.” she replied shakily and brushed a strand of heir behind her ear.
The world seemed suspended on a string, seemed to have stopped moving as he placed the fruit against her skin again and her head fell forward. He drew it around her nipples, pebbling up under the sweet torture before he leaned over to suck the juice off them.
“God… s’good.” she stated quietly. He looked up at her, placed a hand against her solar plexus and pushed her back on the counter. Then he squeezed the fruit in his hand, let the juice trickle down her chest and her belly.
His tongue lapped at her skin, tried to catch every single trickle of juice, skimmed around her belly button and quickly dipped into it, making her moan softly.
He looked at her when he put the fruit into his mouth, put his hand behind her neck and pulled her in for a kiss.
They both tasted like orange, the sweet, tangy taste mingling as their tongues duelled and her hand snuck into his hair.
Grissom pulled her off the counter, pinning her between his body and the cool surface. Her body was pressed against his, her arms around his neck and her mouth on his and he wanted so much to be younger, to have knees that would support him fucking her right up against this counter.
“Bed, Grissom.” she said huskily, pulling away from him slightly.
“Couch, Sara.” he answered, winking at her. She pursed her lips, tried to suppress a smile as she followed him into the living room.
He turned towards her, grabbed her shoulders and turned her until the backs of her knees were pressed against the couch.
"I'm going to eat you, Sara Sidle, the way you ate that orange."
Shivering slightly, she let him push her back onto the couch where she landed with a soft thud and a squeak of leather. Grissom leaned over her, braced his hands on the back of the couch for a moment and kissed her, hard and long and deep. Then, his eyes locking on hers, he knelt down in front of her. Automatically, as if pulled by a string, her legs opened like sunflower petals in the morning sun.
Grissom let his hands travel up her legs slowly, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive backs of her knees. Her skin was starting to tingle deliciously and she sighed softly, letting her head rest against the back of the couch while she watched him in that soft milky blue light of the night.
His lips found that sensitive spot behind her knees when he lifted her leg up, held it in his hand as he kissed and licked and touched his way up her thighs so fucking slowly.
The closer he came to her center, the more she tried to open her legs wider, tried to give him more access because damn it, she wanted him.
His fingers finally found the thin material of her boy shorts, skimmed along the hems, skimmed towards the inside of her thighs. So, so sensitive there...
"Griss..." she whispered, a tiny hint of desperation in her voice.
He pressed his lips against the inside of her thigh and smiled against her skin.
"Shhh."
His fingers moved up over the cotton, cupped her softly, his thumb stroking her through the material. Her hips lifted towards him, making him chuckle because it surprised him every time how susceptible she was to his touch.
He used the opportunity to pull down her shorts in one swift move she didn't expect and all of a sudden she was stark naked on the couch, her breathing shallow and quick as she watched a triumphant Grissom toss her underwear over his shoulder and under the coffee table.
Slowly he leaned into her again, nipped at her thighs, breathed in her scent, felt the heated flush of her skin against his cheeks. He was enjoying this sweet torture, was enjoying the fact that her breath hitched every time his tongue lapped at her skin, every time his breath cooled the traces, pebbling her skin.
"Fuck Grissom." she finally managed, her voice low and dark and full of desire. He looked up at her, his eyes staying focused on hers as he leaned in, as his tongue lightly licked along her cleft, making her hiss again.
The memory of her eating that orange was stuck in his head as his tongue explored her, circled her clit and dipped into her without warning. She bucked into him, cursed and grinned, her eyes slamming shut.
"Holy fuck..."
His hand stretched out across her belly, keeping her still while he continued to lapp at her, let his teeth graze her clit, sucking on her tender nub.
"Grissom... gah. Shit." she moaned, shivering as she felt the tension within her build, coil outwards from her center. She was hot and cold and so fucking close it made her want to push her pussy into his face and just... GOD, get him to just fuck her with his tongue.
He tried to hold her down as her hips started to roll, as her hands found their way into his hair, tugged on the curls, wanted him closer, oh so mch closer because...
"FUCK Grissom ohmygod that feels so good...." she hissed, feeling waves of pleasure run through her.
He pushed her over the edge gently, deliberately and torturously slow and she came, hard.
Slamming her head into the back of the couch, she moaned, her hands tightening in his hair.
When her hips stopped moving and her breathing had somewhat slowed down, she opened her eyes and looked at him. Even in the semi darkness he knew that they were dark and cloudy, like liquid amber.
"I want you." she said hoarsely.
He looked at her for a moment, still kneeling between her legs, slack and wide open, exposing her completely and she was so fucking wet. She wanted him but, by God, he needed her.
He got up, pulled his t-shirt over his head and the pajama pants down and was looming over her again, granting her a perfect view of his hard cock.
"Lay down." he told her, motioning for her to stretch out on the couch and she did, slowly. She moved like a cat, every movement deliberate and full of carefully restrained power.
And fucking sexy.
When she was comfortable, hair mussed and wearing only a gap-toothed grin, he stretched out above her, wanted to feel as much of her as he could as her long, long legs opened for him again, as she curled them around his waist, drawing him closer until the tip of his cock touched her folds.
Her hand reached for him, wrapped around his hard length and guided him into her slick heat.
Grissom groaned softly as she lifted her hips, drew him in closer.
"Hard Grissom. Fuck me hard." she sighed into his ear, nipped at the tender skin at his neck.
He didn't need her to ask him; he started to rock into her tight heat, relished in the feeling of being so incredibly close to her.
"Sara honey God..." he moaned out, feeling her legs tighten around his back, sliding up higher, giving him more access.
He fucked her hard, just like she had wanted him and he was so, so very close when he felt her muscles clench around him. She moaned, long and low and delicious as she clung to him, her arms around his neck, hanging on to him as her world shook.
He rocked into her harder then, rocked until he felt his balls tighten, rocked until he came and then collapsed, rather unceremoniously, on top of her.
"If I had known that this would happen, I'd eaten a lot more oranges around you, trust me." she slurred.
"Mhm... they're good for you."