✓ | 𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗥𝗢𝗗𝗜𝗧𝗘 · ͟͟͞͞➳ spencer reid

CHAPTER 42 ━━━

# ! | CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
- her head isn't the only thing
he gets inside of

━━━ AFTER A MEAL CONSISTING
of pesto fettuccine and grilled chicken, Spencer insists upon cleaning up the kitchen while Meryl goes to shower. It's around seven in the evening, their sleep schedules were undoubtedly going to be screwed to high heaven, but two insomniacs certainly make good company.

After loading the dishwasher, Spencer meanders into Meryl's giant walk-in closet, where she sits at a vanity brushing her hair. He takes the brush from her and stands behind her, their eyes locking in the mirror as he softly untangles her long, lush hair. Her only form of clothing is a fluffy black towel around her torso and his vantage point gives Spencer quite the view down between her breasts. Tenderly, he discards the hairbrush and pulls Meryl to her feet, planting insistent kisses on her neck.

Spencer pulls his shirt over his head and then pauses. "You're sure you want this? With me?"

Meryl bites her lip and reaches behind her to slip her fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants. "I'm in love with every part of you, Spencer. I need you, so long as you're sure you need me too."

He smiles and drops his head into the crook of her neck. "I've thought about this more than is probably appropriate. Are you wanting to- uh, well, do you want control or should I-"

Meryl grins, turns around, and swiftly drops to her knees as she tugs Spencer's briefs and sweatpants down with her. "I say we let what happens happen." He means to reply but then she spits on her hand and begins stroking him and a breath zips through his teeth.

Meryl kitten licks his tip and Spencer moans softly. The way she looks, dark lashes fanning around her eyes and cheekbones sharp, is enough to make his stomach tighten. "What's off the table?" he asks, gathering her hair in one hand.

The speed of her hand picks up and Spencer watches with interest as she snakes her other hand between her legs. "Pardon?"

"What can't I do to you? I'd assume that list is shorter than what I can." They'd never had that conversation but it wasn't difficult to assume - when one is as smart as they both are, they know about the unconventional methods of achieving pleasure. BDSM was just another thing for them to achieve mastery in.

Meryl matches his teasing grin. "No ass stuff, no feet stuff. I'm experimental but… not that experimental. You?"

Spencer sighs in relief, it blending into a moan as Meryl deepthroats his cock in one languid thrust. "Me too. Everything else is fair game."

Now that the conversation was out of the way, Spencer pulls Meryl off his dick by her hair and then kisses her deeply, grabbing her hips and lifting her up. She was light though loaded with muscle, but he'd been working out more and right now, primal need was coursing through him like it was being inserted through an IV. Meryl got the memo, hooking her legs around his waist. She laughs breathlessly as one of Spencer's hands comes down swiftly on her ass.

He kisses her shoulder. "You know, it doesn't really matter if you can't walk tomorrow since we don't have to go in." They reach the bed and he drops Meryl on to it, watching fondly as she lets her legs spread.

She squeaks as Spencer grabs her hips and pulls her to him, burying his face between her legs and instantly finding her clit, sucking harshly. He knew women especially were prone to having their taste influenced by what they drank, and she was an avid consumer of fruit juice. Meryl's thighs quiver from the immediate stimulation and she groans when he pulls away.

"Safe word," Spencer says, putting his hand between her legs and rubbing infuriatingly lazy circles with his thumb.

She tries to grind her hips down against his hand and he roughly pins her down with his other hand. "Goddamnit, Meryl. Safe word?" She was killing him with her flushed cheeks and doe eyes.