Rating: M (just in case)
Disclaimer: Neither the show nor the characters belong to me, they belong to ITV1. Nonetheless, I love to borrow them from time to time. The idea of the story as well as the story itself – including all possible pre- or sequels published afterwards – are mine.
Warnings: not beta-read
It was their fifth time together already, but it was the first time he had come home – that was her place in this case – still dressed in his uniform. He just hadn’t been able to wait even a second longer to get to her.
The day had been crappy. They had lost three innocent people before the team had arrived at the scene. It had been hard to capture the damn Therocephalian. Why did it have to be them again, anyway?
He needed her, needed her kisses, her soft touches to comfort him. So the moment she had opened the door, he had caught her in his arms, pulled her against him, and kissed her hungrily.
They had somehow managed to get into her bedroom without breaking their kiss. His hands had been under her shirt the moment she had closed the front door. Before they had reached the bedroom, her shirt had been gone, as well as his.
Her small hand was stroking down his leg, fidgeting with the laces of his boots until she suddenly stopped.
Damn, he hadn’t thought about it when he had left his uniform on.
Jess broke the kiss, looking at him with curiosity as she pulled the gadget her fingers had just discovered out of its holder. She looked at the knife, turning the blade in her hands.
“I’m sorry,” Becker mumbled. “I… should have taken it off before…”
“Have you… ever used it for something other than… well… stabbing someone?” she asked, interrupting him.
Becker blinked at her. What was that supposed to mean?
Seeing the confusion in his eyes, Jess bit her lip. “Well, I mean, have you every used it for something… enjoyable?”
“Pardon?” he asked in return. How could he use a knife for something… Oh…
“Well, you know, like…” she bit her lip. “There’s a fine line between pain and pleasure.”
He swallowed. Not sure if he really liked where this was going.
“If you don’t cut too deep, it can be… pretty exciting,” she said. Seeing the almost shocked expression on his face, Jess quickly added. “Oh, no, I… I never actually tried it. I just… I heard about it and… well… you know, I… kind of… always wanted to try.”
Taking the knife from her, Becker smirked. “Just scratches, no actual cuts,” he whispered, letting the blade sweep across the crook of her neck.
Jess shivered. This was actually better than she’d imagined it to be. “We’ll see,” she panted.
She lay back on the bed, quickly removing the rest of her clothes.
He hesitated, but when she grabbed his hand making him press the blade against her soft skin, he started to move the cold metal over her body. He was careful, trying to make sure he didn’t actually hurt her.
Cold metal pressed against her skin and she felt the soft scratches the blade left on her neck. Her skin felt sore, but instead of making her uncomfortable, it turned her on to no end.
Becker swallowed again. He hadn’t imagined her to enjoy it that much. Carefully, he let the blade run over her sensitive spots, applying only enough pressure that he didn’t actually harm the skin.
She moaned, encouraging him to go on, to go farther.
Slowly, he let the knife run over her stomach, leaving a mark there, just deep enough that it wasn’t bleeding. He leaned down to caress the scratch with his tongue, while he let the blade move down to her legs.
He was too wrapped up in the sensations of her soft skin to really pay attention that he didn’t cut too deep – until he heard her hiss.
His head shot up and he stared in shock at the small cut on her upper thigh. “God, Jess, I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t be,” she told him.
He was still staring at the wound, not really listening to what she just said. What had he done? He knew how sharp the knife was. He should have paid attention.
“Becker,” she said, causing him to look at her. “Don’t be sorry, it’s okay.”
He could see the desire and the pleasure in her eyes. Had she actually liked it?
As if she had read his mind, she nodded slowly.
Smirking, he leaned down to lick her wound, making her moan again. The taste of metal filled his mouth, along with the taste of her, and he let the knife move to the more sensitive parts of her body. He was careful not to hurt her again, just pressing cold metal against hot flesh, scratching slightly and following the trace of the knife with his tongue, until she called out his name.
Smiling, he kissed his way up her body, the knife still in his hand.
Jess took him by surprise as she rolled him over so that he was lying flat on his back, and grabbed the knife from him. “My turn now,” she whispered hungrily.Smiling, Becker leaned back against the pillows. He had no intention of complaining. Frankly, he was pleasantly surprised what his boot knife could be good for.