#adacarisi

 With Sonny's job as an ADA your intimate time had become more and more precious as it was so rare. The both of you had agreed that sex was too important to do hastily and without feeling. For the two of you sex was more than just an animalistic collaboration. Sex was your way of checking in with him and he with you. Don't misunderstand, your sex was incredibly raw and passionate, but it was also so much more. When Sonny was inside you the connection was ethereal, it challenged your preconceived notions of reality.

The flight down was easy, and you could almost feel the weather grow warmer as the plane landed. Sonny grabbed both of your bags from the overhead compartment and backed up to let you out of your seat. The two of you smiled merrily as you walked down the long hallway toward the concourse.

The rental car ride was equally as nice, listening to classic rock with the windows down, thinking of how wonderful the sun would feel on your body as you laid on the beach. The two of you stopped for a quick bite, and as always Sonny offered you a taste of what he'd ordered. That was one of his sweet little ways of letting you know how much he cared for you. Food was definitely one of your man's love languages.

When you arrived at the rental condo you couldn't help but toss the bags to the side and immediately don your bathing suit. You felt completely comfortable in what you'd chosen to wear and you were excited to wear it. Sonny followed quite literally in suit and the two of you made your way outside to the beach that laid only a few feet from your door.

The heat was wondrous, it made you feel like you were glowing, baking from the outside in. Sonny's pale skin was practically refracting the sunlight, which made you remember the sunscreen. After a slightly erotic rub down with some spf 100, the two of you laid out on the beach chairs so graciously provided by the rental property. It was wondrous, listening to the crash and hum of the waves, your skin warm and toasty in the light of the pure island sun.

After a little swim the sun had descended, dipping below the horizon line on the ocean so the two of you retired back to the rental condo. There was nothing quite like a cool shower after a day in the sun. Something about it felt so natural, so healthy. Sonny joined you in the large walk in shower and was all too happy to wash your hair when you asked. Another one of Sonny's favorite things, washing your beautiful hair. He loved the way it felt in his hands as he scratched your scalp, he loved the appreciative little moans you would gift him as he worked the suds into a lather.

That was the thing about Sonny, sure, if you walked into your bedroom naked he'd be turned on, but the small things got him exceptionally hot and bothered as well. The way you put on your earrings, the way you stretched in the morning before fully waking up, and most of all how kind you were to everyone, always engaging in a bit of meaningful and uplifting conversation whenever possible. You had a genuine kindness that even strangers could sense. Sonny had watched you turn so many people's days around, your smile was as contagious as your good humor. That was the first thing he remembered about you, that perfect and luminous smile.

Now as he held your head in his hands he thought on two things: one, how lucky he was that he'd found his way to you and two, how he'd do anything for you. He'd give up anything for you, you'd never even have to ask. Though you'd never expressly said it, he knew you felt the same.

As soon as your hair was rinsed and the both of you were sufficiently cleaned Sonny's large hands began a wandering journey down your sides to your hips. He pulled you into him, kissing your shoulders, licking ever so softly before nipping the skin there sending sparks through your spine to your toes. You moved to face him but he held you still, he wasn't done exploring you, appreciating you, worshiping you. Something about your wet skin coupled with the heat radiating from your bodies was feverish, the both of you more turned on and drawn to each other than you'd been in a while.

Sonny turned you to face him and took one of your hands in his, starting at your chest, moving slowly down your body toward a most obvious destination. He pressed your fingers into the wet slit there, making you moan in irritation, as much as you loved to be touched you hated teasing.

"Do ya' feel that...hmmm...you're so wet already." Sonny moved your fingers to his lips and took a taste.

"You taste so good baby...you always do. I could cum just from tasting you." Your lover mused, his eyes darkening as his mind filled with memories of your legs spread with his head between them.

"I seem to remember you doing just that quite a few times." You sassed half heartedly, his finger was stroking you open now and you could feel yourself starting to throb with anticipation.

"Oh? Are ya' gonna be a bad girl tonight? Is that the game we're playing?"

"No games, I only want one thing." His finger was a third of the way inside you now, moving softly in and out.

"Mmmm and what's that, princess?"

"I want you to fuck me. I want you to take that huge cock and fuck me until I scream from cumming so hard they can hear me back in New York."

Your boldness and urgency had shocked him a bit and his momentary hesitation to reply spurred you on even more. You locked eyes with him and pulled his finger from you gently, brought it to your lips and sucked it clean. He was right, you did taste delicious. Divine even.

Before you knew it Sonny had hoisted you up, your lips locked in a passionate battle, both of you desperate for each other. Your back hit the plush surface of comforter on the bed, previously tucked neatly and cleanly under the mattress. Within moments it was in a disarray as Sonny joined you on the bed, pinning your arms to both sides of your head.

"God...baby I'll neva' get enough of this. Fuck..." Sonny began a passionate series of open mouthed kisses on your right shoulder, continuing up the crook of your neck and behind your ear.

You meant to answer him and express the same sentiment but then he began stroking his cock against your entrance and your thoughts were lost. God his cock was perfect, light pink and just the right size, not too big and not too small. As he pushed inside you he groaned, a sound that was music to your ears. There was nothing quite like that first stroke, feeling him stretch you, that desire to have him within you finally quenched. It was exquisite. 

“Goddamn it...fuck baby. It’s been too long.” Sonny Carisi was in raptures, not even a minute into sex and dangerously close to losing control.

“We should record this--I want something to remember you by.” You arched against him as you moaned out the words, feeling the tip of him press to the side of your cervix. 

“What’s that supposed’ to mean?” Sonny teased, nearly pulling out of you, leaving just the tip of himself barely inside you. 

“Before just a second ago I couldn’t remember what it was like...having your thick cock stretch me out.” Your tone was sultry and you hoped you could get away with addressing a real issue during such an intimate moment. 

Sonny groaned and reached for his iPhone that laid towards the top of the bed where he’d tossed it earlier. 

“You’re so goddamn hot...I can’t believe I haven’t thought of this before.” Sonny held and positioned the camera over you, just capturing your waist and the space where the two of you were nearly connected.

You groaned and reached for his hips, rolling yours towards him. 

“Fuck me, ADA Carisi.”

Sonny bit his lip and his eyes darkened, and the look he gave you isn’t one you’d soon forget. He pushed back into you, using his free hand to slowly glide from the skin above your womb up to your belly button. Then ever so firmly yet slowly he grasped your waist and pulled you down onto him. The muscles of his forearm flexed as he fucked you onto him with a shocking display of strength and skill. The feeling of his perfect cock inside you, hitting such a wonderful spot inside you drove all thoughts from your mind and you squealed with pleasure. Sonny’s wet hair jolted with the force he used yet he managed to be quite the cinematographer, keeping the phone’s camera steady. 

The two of you continued that way for a while until he smacked you twice on your hip, a signal for you to turn over. And turn over you did with great enthusiasm. Now you were on all fours with your legs spread wide, presenting yourself to him in a desperate request. ADA Carisi obliged eagerly, pushing inside you harshly but painlessly. 

You imagined how it must look from the camera’s perspective, his cock splitting you open, your grip pulling at him as he thrusted in and out. God, it was lewd. You began pushing back against him in time with his thrusts, driving him harder and deeper into you. You lowered onto your forearms for more control but also because you didn’t trust them not to give out with the intense waves of pleasure that were starting to work their way through your body.

“More...more, Dominick!” You encouraged. 

Sonny dropped his iPhone and grabbed your hips with both hands. Now you were really in for it. Calling him Dominick always riled him up but in this moment it took him to another level. Sonny Carisi fucked you breathless at a mind numbing pace. 

Your mind was flooded with images of him, one of them was Sonny walking towards you in his newest suit, dark blue paired with a dark red tie. You thought about him yelling in court, jabbing his finger at the defendant, nose wrinkled in anger and disgust. You thought about him hard at work over stacks of documents, his brow furrowed and mouth moving as he read quietly to himself. God, everything he did turned you on. 

Sonny wove a hand into your hair and pulled just the way you liked, small pin pricks of pain interwoven with an intense pressure that made your toes curl where they laid against the side of his calves. 

“Ya’ like that? Who’s my good girl?” His voice was gruff and strained, you knew by the sound of it that he was getting close. 

“I fucking love it!!” You choked out, your throat taut from the angle he was causing by pulling your hair. 

“Cum for me, I want you to cum all over my cock.” Though you couldn’t see him you knew he was gritting his teeth and that turned you on even more. 

Hearing him so desperate to please you, talking so dirty was all it took. You felt the ripples and contractions of your orgasm take over and you rode it out, letting your body react to the sheer wealth of sensations. 

“FUUCKHHH!” The ADA exclaimed with great exertion. 

You didn’t feel his release due to overstimulation but you were familiar with the way his thrusts would falter growing more shallow and shaky as he came. 

You collapsed forward and he collapsed to the side of you, sweaty and spent. 

The two of you took a few moments to recover, a few breathless chuckles escaping from him and a few giggles from you. 

“Well, I don’ know about you...but I’m not forgettin’ that anytime soon, doll.” Sonny laid a large hand over his chest, his hammering heartbeat almost visible. 

“Me either...Jesus.” You grinned, stretching your arms and legs while looking over at him. 

“An’ now...we’ve got somethin’ to help us if we do.” He reached down for the phone he’d discarded during the heat of the passion that had consumed him moments before. 

“Wanna watch it?” 

“As bad as I do...it’s gotta be later. I’m still watin’ for my soul to return to my body.” Your boyfriend chuckled and winked at you. 

He was so effortlessly charming and it took your breath away in a different way than you’d experienced earlier. He was an incredible man, a truly good man and he was yours. You wondered what you’d done to deserve him, to deserve to be loved by him. 

“I love you.” You breathed, eyes brimming a bit with the wave of love you felt. 

Sonny moved closer to you, taking a hand to cup your jaw and smiled down at you softly. 

“I love you too, more than you’ll ever know.” And with that he placed a tender kiss on your lips, a pure kiss filled with adoration. 

When you had first landed at Charles de Gaulle, with your rusty B+ average AP French and your Cubano-Americano boyfriend in tow, you had felt an apprehension like no other when you had set foot in the lobby of your very French, very elegant hotel. 

But to your utter surprise, your very sharp boyfriend had tout de suite started rolling his Rs the French way, starting with “bonjour mademoiselle”, followed closely by a self-assured, rapid-fire “oui, la suite présidentielle, s’il vous plaît, merci.”

As you ascended the opulent marble stairs to your aforementioned suite présidentielle, you shook yourself out of your stunned daze in time to catch a smirking Rafael Barba with a shell-shocked, “Where and when the hell did you learn to speak French?”

“Freshman year, Harvard,” he had winked at you. 

In response, your head had started to chant voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir? in true Moulin Rouge fashion, complete with the peek-a-boo frills and feathers behind which your apprehension furtively retreated.

The moment your suite’s door had slammed behind the bellhop, you had sidled up to your very hot, very sharp, very accomplished Cubano-American boyfriend, and, while scratching the hollow of his throat with a fingernail teasingly, had purred, “Well, mon cher procureur, I look forward to receiving your éducation.”

The first item on the curriculum at the Finishing School of Rafael Barba: touches.

Rafael’s touches came in gradation of intrusiveness upon your person. In Manhattan, where the prominent public persona of an attorney cut the masses in halves of political discontent and acclamation, touches were elusive. They were cloaked in the conspiratorial covertness of a quiet whisper, across the back of your hand as he unintentionally grazed it with the back of his, as the both of you ate up the pavement with business-casual strides in lieu of a romantic, candlelit dinner.

In Paris, where the anonymity of foreigners is only broken by the outstanding –a standard of dress and manner toward which nor Rafael, nor you strived– touches were free. They were as liberated as the French were from the iron fist of the church and monarchy in the age of the Enlightenment. 

The touches stroked across your bare clavicles, as Rafael curled an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his body, as if the weight of you against his chest were a necessary prerequisite to contemplating the fall of an angled chisel upon stone. Then, in the next breath, La Joconde: a timeless, transcendental witness to the urgent, forward press of Rafael’s hips into the small of your back.

The touches also brushed your bare shins under the dinner table, as Rafael instigated a juvenile game of footsie in rebellious contrast to the posh lavishness of your chosen restaurant of the night, pushing the boundaries of French sensibilities up and away, along with the hem of your skirt.

Vive la révolution française, as they say.

The second item on the curriculum at the Finishing School of Rafael Barba: kisses.

If touches were elusive in Manhattan, then kisses were hallucinatory, practically hypothetical, with how fleetingly scant and insubstantially flimsy they befell your person. They materialized in the null spaces prescribed by the office of law and framed by prosecutorial virtues. They were stolen, constrained behind the closed doors of an overpriced mortgaged property, after justice has been served and before the violation of constitutional rights threatened peace. 

In Paris, Rafael’s kisses were as unrestrained as the sprawl of lush vegetation at the Jardin du Luxembourg, and as French as the history-rich soil upon which you stood. Upon this land, Marie-Antoinette had lost her head to the anger of her people; upon it, you lost yours to the playful nibble Rafael gave the bottom of your pout. To her famished people, Marie-Antoinette had nonsensically cried “let them eat cake!” To your starvation for his lips upon yours, Rafael had indulged the both of you in endless kisses, each and every one a flambé of buttery sweetness that remained unparalleled, even by the intricate pastries favoured by the last of the French monarch. 

As the both of you perused the Parisian skyline atop the tour Eiffel in search for some promised beauty in the outlines of mismatched roofs breaking skies, Rafael boxed you in with steady arms and breathed a hot, wet breath against the shell of your ear in ominous forecast. Before long, he rained kisses along your hairline, carelessly letting them roll down the slope of your neck, letting them pool in the hollow of your throat, startling laughs and shivers and gasps out of you. 

The kisses Rafael shared with you in the privacy of your suite had the heaviness, the momentum, and the certainty of a continuance, granted to you by the rapid rise of unfulfilled longing for each other, untempered by the conventions that dictated civilized order beyond the doors of your suite, and unhindered by the layers of unspoken pronouncements that draped your bodies. These kisses were unabridged, unlike the case laws that oft tumbled pass Rafael’s lips. Those were kisses that knotted one’s soul to the tail end of another’s: finite and infinite, a sum of two within which contained a forever expanding universe.

And the third item on the curriculum at the Finishing School of Rafael Barba: seduction.

Throughout your life, men had unwittingly chased the idea of you, each idea as divergently reductionist as the next, hatched over the time it took for a glance, a word, a turn of head. Rafael Barba had been the same: he was merely a man, after all. But he had found purchase in the familiarity of your accoutrements, of your erudition and had not felt the need to strip you down with his hands to construe the shape of you. He was an attorney, the legacy of two centuries of his forefathers’ scholarship, and so he crafted you the way he crafted his arguments: complex, potent, with an edge of aphrodisia bordering on indelicacy if not for his irrefutable respect and your steadfast humour. 

And edge you, he did: first with words, then touches and kisses, then the unhurried slide of his cock –hurtling you further and further on, toward the threshold of a climax to which only he and he alone possess the key to twist, pull and push as he pleased. He was merely a man, but where any other man blindly chased the idea of your pleasure, Rafael stilled to listen, to see, to feel, taste, and smell. He did not chase– he founded your pleasure, and set out to build upon it centuries’ and civilizations’ worth of worship, the history of which he etched upon your hips with half-crescent indents of his nails, traced upon your neck with swirls of his tongue, and seared into you with each grind of his cock. Your body was a memoir of his acts of love and reverence. In return, you used his as a blank canvas, onto which you painted exclamations of tenderness and adoration à la Jackson Pollock: spontaneous, blatant, raucous, and primitive.

Paris invited the hours to loiter and the minutes to stretch out, not unlike a sated cat sunbathing atop a windowsill on a Sunday afternoon. Ever an opportunist, Rafael took these freely given moments in hand and weaved you into the linens previously tucked into the prim corners of your bed, turned down and spread out for your carnal pleasures. And you, tangled in the lust of his gaze, folded into scraps of soft lace and silk that spoke to offerings in expanses of yet unconquered flesh and to prophecies of delight– you beckoned him to you. With one crooked finger and a come hither in equal measures of open thighs and tilted neck, you beckoned; and who was he to resist such allure?

“Si belle, si envoûtante, mon amour,” Rafael murmured against the peak of your breast, watching you watch him bite down once again, watching you rut up to take more of him into you. “Veux-tu venir? Veux-tu que je vienne en toi?”

“Oui,” you gasped, turning your head to kiss the open palm that curved along your cheek lovingly, “s’il te plaît, Rafael, s’il te plaît!” You begged, breathless and mindless with the promise of his deliverance. 

There was no sight more exquisite than your lover’s capitulation to his basest instincts. Rafael made a living out of his cerebral intellect, employing his physicality solely to instigate and punctuate a verbal brawl. In his surrender to la petite mort, it was his body that he used to close the argument between his love for you and yours for him. 

“Oh, si, ça me plaît,” Rafael groaned, unable to take his eyes nor his hands off your body, as if by fear that you’d dissolve in the apex of your pleasure should he fail to bear witness to its unravelling. 

À l'œuvre, on connaît l'artisan.

And he would be damned to let you finish your éducation française without a déluge à la crème. 

Translations

Procureur –prosecutor

Vive la révolution française –long live the French revolution (a phrase commonly uttered)

Si belle, si envoûtante, mon amour –so beautiful, so bewitching, my love

Veux-tu venir? Veux-tu que je vienne en toi? –Do you want to come? Do you want me to come in you?

S’il te plaît –if it pleases you (direct translation; usually just means ‘please’)

La petite mort –the little death (i.e., orgasm)

Si, ça me plaît –yes, it pleases me (i.e., Raf is just being a cheeky lil shite as always)

À l'œuvre, on connaît l'artisan –a workman is known by his chips (i.e., you can recognize the artist by the quality of his work, which is me being a cheeky lil shite because of the next bullet point)

déluge à la crème –not a conventional saying but it’s exactly what you think it is. i mean you did beg him to come in you, so……..

You’d spent hours together late into the night, going over the reading, discussing your opinions on the case conclusions. Sonny started bringing you a coffee to your shared classes, always with a smile. It made you feel so special, so thought of and so seen. You’d never gone out or anything like that, but there were plenty of innuendos and interspersed moments of flirty dialogue. You loved the way his eyes would crinkle when he smiled, the bashful way he’d look down at his hands before looking back up at you. Even after 1L ended you’d still meet for study sessions in the back of Maloney Library. And Sonny always remembered your vanilla latte. 

Now he was across the room from you four whole years later. He looked the same in so many ways, a little more gray, a little more battle tested. His chest still looked so strong and his arms so lean and toned. The image of him in a black Hanes t-shirt still made you bite your lower lip, he usually wore business casual clothing throughout law school but during one of your late night studying sessions he’d gone more casual. You’d found it particularly hard to concentrate that night. It was odd seeing him, it felt like no time had passed yet it had been an eternity. He was picturesque, tall and handsome in a greek statue sort of way. He was art brought to life. 

You could see his lips moving as he spoke to a couple men in front of him but his eyes stayed on you as you moved through the thick of suit clad men towards the open bar. You ordered Macallan 15 on the rocks, wanting to dull your senses just a bit. The taste melted over your tongue, burning and stinging as you closed your eyes. When you opened them again you took in the room, taking in the sheer amount of people present.

“Y/N?”

And suddenly his voice hit your eardrums, a sound you’d missed and craved desperately over the last few years. You turned to your side and took him in.

“Sonny.” You didn’t know what emotion you’d delivered his name with but it seemed to puzzle him as much as it did you.

“It’s been a while, huh? It’s good to see you. How’re you doin’? I mean—how’s your practice—last I remember you were lookin’ at international law.” Sonny tripped over his words a bit but his eyes were insistent, hardly blinking and unwavering.

“Good, I did a few different things for a couple years and now I’m in med mal, it’s going well. How are you? How’s life as a ADA?”

“Med mal? So you went into torts professionally? That doesn’t surprise me—you’re the only reason I passed those classes. I woulda’ been lost without ya.”

“I doubt that, you’re nothing if not resourceful. I bet that comes in handy as an ADA.” You tried to steer the conversation back toward him, not wanting to delve too deeply into your own practice.

Sonny grinned and began telling you all about his job as an ADA. He was especially proud of his new office. He liked the space, it gave him room to pace, something he’d done many times with you when trying to recall a line of reasoning in the cases from your torts case book. He had a few more wrinkles by his eyes now, something that made you smile softly to yourself. It comforted you to know he’d been happy these last few years, that he had cause to smile so genuinely. Sometimes he’d told you about SVU cases he’d worked as a detective and it broke your heart to hear of such horrors, but more so that he’d had to witness such things.

The night continued in easy conversation, ranging from law practice to other things—Sonny’s nieces who’d grown up since you’d last spoken, his mom and dad, the ending of Game of Thrones and all the things you hadn’t the chance to talk about all those years ago. You couldn’t recall it happening but soon you were downtown at Forlini’s in a booth laughing heartily with a glass of house white wine in your hand. Sonny was so close, smiling brightly as the world around the two of you blurred. He smelled wonderfully masculine, woody and a bit musky. The wine and the scent of him drew you in closer gradually until your thigh touched his. The heat of his body radiated towards you, not obviously but in a slight, microscopic way that you were sensitive to. Perhaps the pent up desire of all those nights across from him and hearing the passion in his mock oral arguments had finally crescendoed as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. Such a cliché, but in that moment you understood it. Sonny tenderly brushed his thumb over your cheekbone and you swallowed, hyper conscious of such a simple bodily function.

“God, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.” His voice was lowered, almost wispy as if he was speaking a feeling into being.

His sapphire blue eyes moved from yours to your lips. Subconsciously your lips parted, allowing a few shallow breaths to pass from them in anticipation of a moment you desperately hoped would come.

“Wanna get outta here?” He leaned in closer, the words lingering on the shell of your ear.

“Sonny…you’ve no idea how many times I’ve wanted to hear you say that.” Your eyes darkened as you spoke.

You could have sworn he groaned at that, making you wonder if he’d wanted you as badly as you’d wanted him all those years ago. But all that mattered is that he wanted you now. And goddamn you wanted him too.

A short cab ride later you were at the stoop of your apartment, the tension between the two of you as thick as the summer night air. You were standing close together now, and Sonny took your head into his hands, cradling your face gently.

“Back then it was all I could do to keep from kissing you. You’re brilliant, ya know? You don’ know how many nights just the sight of you kept me goin’.”

“Sonny—“

“I went through some dark times—a lot of heavy shit…but you…god. I’m so in love with you. I knew you wanted to go overseas for your practice so I neva’ said anythin’. I didn’t wanna hold you back. But now you’re here and I have to tell you, I’m so in love with you.”

You felt as if this moment couldn’t possibly be real, and if you weren’t in such familiar surroundings you’d have thought it a dream. You’d heard those words ‘l love you’ before from other men but you’d only ever wanted to hear it from him, from Sonny Carisi.

“I love you too, Sonny. I’ve missed you...desperately.”

And with the soft hum and lull of the New York City night in the background Sonny Carisi kissed you. The second his lips touched yours you melted into him. He enveloped you in his slender frame as your lips pressed and moved against the his, a kiss filled with love and pent up lust.

Every moment after that was breathless, the fumbling with your keys at the door, the hurried journey to the third floor of the brownstone, then more fumbling followed by the two of you bursting into the hallway of your apartment, eager to be as close as possible with the other. You were a tangle of limbs that somehow through a fury of hands and kisses made it into your bedroom. Sonny hoisted you with surprising ease and strength and fell with you onto the duvet that covered your queen sized bed.

He paused then, lips swollen and decorated with the faint stain of your lipstick. He gazed down at you, and at that moment it occurred to you that he was as in awe of you as you were of him.

“I want you, Sonny.” You breathed, your chest rising and falling heavily.

“Fuck, I want you too. So badly.”

First was his shirt, then your dress, then his pants. You lost track of the pattern the moment his lips touched your neck, massaging patterns into the sensitive skin. Your toes flexed and extended as he sucked along where he’d kissed, filling your mind with the urgent need to have him inside you.

You could feel his hard cock pressing into your upper leg, and you noted the size of what you felt. It was more than you’d expected but not egregiously massive. The light from the street below helped you visualize what you felt as he moved off of you to rid himself of the pants that had pooled around his ankles. You heard the sound of his belt buckle hitting the hardwood floor and in an instant he was above you once more. You ran your hands up and down the muscles of his back, your mind racing. You’d fantasized about this so many times and now it was real.

“Sonny…” You whimpered, your senses overwhelmed with the feel of him.

“Tell me what you want…I need to hear it.” His voice was low and desperate, more gravely than usual.

“I want you, I want you inside me…please.”

“Promise you’ll tell me to stop if you need me to. Just say the word I promise I’ll stop.” He locked eyes with you and you saw the sincerity and truth in them.

“I promise, same for you. But right now, I don’t want you to stop…I want more.” Your tone matched his initially and then trailed into a lower more seductive octave.

He smiled and kissed you tenderly at first and then he bit your bottom lip, pulling slightly before licking over the area where his teeth had been. Sonny snaked a hand between the two of you and felt your core, wet and throbbing for him. Satisfied that you were ready, Sonny took his cock in his hand and rubbed the tip along your slit.

“Please, Sonny, please.” You whined.

“Be a good girl.” His eyes were so erotically dark it sent chills down your spine.

The moment you felt Sonny Carisi sink into you, your body awakened in a way you’d never felt before. You could feel every inch of him as he slowly but purposefully slid inside. All of those lust filled looks and stolen glances crescendoing in this blissfully lewd moment.

“Holy fuck.” Sonny sputtered as he bottomed out.

“Fuck me, please!!” The urgency was too much to contain.

Sonny pulled back and slammed inside you, testing and discerning what you liked, what you wanted. You urged him to go harder, faster. Soon he was pumping in and out of you, drilling a path deep inside you. You could hardly contain the noises you were making, and you didn’t want to. They seemed to spur him on, every little moan made him fuck you harder and with more purpose.

“Goddamn, doll!” Sonny’s arms were shaking but his stamina was a force to be reckoned with.

You could feel your inner coil winding, the pleasure mounting as if you were climbing a staircase. Sonny lowered himself more and began sucking on your neck again. It appeared that this was a weak spot for you, something your previous lovers hadn’t discovered.

Sonny’s cock was so impossibly hard and you tried to concentrate on the feeling of it inside you but your mind was swimming with thoughts of what it must look like from a third party perspective. Your legs spread wide, your ankles locked around his legs while he fucked into you so hard. The thought brought you ever closer to that teetering edge but you needed more from him.

“Look at me, Sonny!”

Sonny pulled his head from where it had been in the crook of your neck and stared down at you, mouth agape. He looked as if he was just as close to climax as you were. As much as you wanted him to fuck you from behind you wanted to come while looking him in the eye.

“I’m close—“ He gasped, fighting the urge to release the pressure building in his shaft.

“Me too—just look at me, Sonny!” Seeing him so wrecked pushed you right over the edge, and you came, every nerve from the tip of your toes to the crown of your head exploding in a golden fire.

You clamped down on him involuntarily, your body urging him to follow suit. A few more hurried strokes and Sonny Carisi came inside of you, his hot seed pouring deep inside of you. He let out a guttural sound and it made your legs shake as you moaned in return.

He collapsed to the side of you, his chest heaving as the both of you enjoyed the aftershocks of your orgasms. You tilted your head to the side and looked at the man next to you. He gazed back, a weary smile creeping across his plump lips.

“Why didn’t we do that sooner? We coulda’ been doin’ that for years by now.” He was breathless but still managed a little chuckle that you matched.

“I wanted to. Badly. We’ll just have to start making up for lost time.” You expressed, raising your eyebrows for emphasis.

“That makes two a’ us. Christ, that was amazing.” He grinned, the lines by his eyes crinkling just the way you loved. 

After falling asleep with Sonny’s arm wrapped around you, you soon awoke to him kissing your neck softly. With an assurance of consent you began round two, both of you thrilled to experiment with the other and to learn each other’s bodies.

    You ran towards where you’d seen the little animal last and managed to catch a glimpse of its shape as it began moving towards the road. You reached the cat just in time, swooping its little frail and soaking wet body into your arms. You wrapped the kitten in the hoodie you had sitting on the passengers seat and turned up the heat that earlier had been at a low hum. 

    The vets office wasn’t far and luckily nothing was wrong with the little kitten. The vet seemed to think that someone had thrown the young kitten from a car but somehow it was unharmed. As those watery eyes stared up at you it became clear the two of you were bound together now. It seemed only natural what followed, you took her home, went out and bought a liter box, bags of dry food and cans of wet food, even a few toys you thought she’d enjoy. The months went by and became years. Your little kitten grew and the two of you got to know each other so well. When you were sick she’d curl up next to wherever it hurt the most, sometimes next to your head and other times resting her little head on your belly. 

    You found that you preferred the company of your cat to people when before you’d preferred no company at all. As the years went on there were many changes but she was with you through it all, those large eyes gazing up at you in solidarity whenever you’d lost hope or faith. A few of your darkest moments were only turned by the thought of leaving her behind. Who would care for her if not you? Who would give her what she deserved and needed if not you? Would she ever forgive you for leaving her? Anyone else would say that she could easily get on without you and that someone else would care for her. But you knew better than to give into that. There were times you’d sense ailments in her before she even sensed them in herself. You knew each other so well and were perfectly content and at ease when alone with one another as the years went by. 

   You’d met Rafael by chance in the same weather conditions that you’d met your cat. You’d met on a rainy day in the city with the sound of squeaking breaks and the scent of exhaust permeating through the windows of the courthouse. You’d been managing to do your work just fine when he rushed up to the attorney window. You were a legal assistant for circuit criminal but rarely did you have the misfortune of having to attend to the attorney window. You’d seen him before and had written him off as another pompous attorney but on that day you’d witnessed someone far more human than you’d previously observed. He was kind and patient, even humorous. And for the first time in years you found yourself smiling and maybe even hopeful. 

   The two of you dated off and on for a year or so and then things became more serious. Rafael Barba seemed like he could be it, he could be the person you shared your life with. The truest test was when he met your cat. You knew she could detect any trace of evil or bullshit, she’d been right when you’d introduced her to your now ex-best friend. 

“I’m not really a cat person, or dog person.” Rafael had begun to make excuses on the way up to your apartment. 

“Neither was I.” You smiled, still nervous but hoping for the best. 

When you opened the door to your apartment there she sat, poised and concentrated. You pulled Rafael to the couch in your living room and took a seat beside him. He seemed nervous, and he was right to be. Paw by paw she slunk around the edges of the room before leaping onto Rafael’s lap. She stretched her long body towards his face and took rapid sniffs, her whiskers trembling with her effort. Your cat took a few steps forward on his lap and stretched upwards even further before ceremoniously licking Rafael’s nose not once but twice before meowing loudly and hopping off of him to nuzzle your leg. 

“She licked me.” Rafael had smiled and reached down to pet your cat who accepted the affection very willingly. 

“It seems she likes you just as much as I do.” You had leaned towards him for a kiss when he’d turned towards you with a strange look on his face. 

“What?” You’d asked only to be met with a look that told you you should already know what he was about to say. 

“I would hope that you’d feel a little more than that for me by now.” Rafael pushed up his sleeves and you tensed. 

Had you ruined this already? Emotion wasn’t easy for you, it wasn’t how you chose to express yourself. So much of your reality happened internally, a place that was safe for you to process things without bombardment or harassment. You had done your best to covey your admiration and enjoyment of Rafael through words and actions but as usual it was misread. Allowing him to meet your cat had been a massive step for you. Allowing him into your home was monumental. And yet it appeared that he couldn’t understand that. 

The two of you fought that night for longer than you cared to admit. It was a fight unlike what you imagined typical couples would have. It was slow and measured, calculated statements received and returned for hours. Your cat had seemed amused at first, her eyes darting intelligently back and forth between the you and your boyfriend, but eventually she grew bored and fell asleep at Rafael’s feet. The two of you talked and talked until the conversation became more warm and smiles returned to both of your faces. 

   That night was the first time you finally felt understood. It was also the night that Rafael Barba understood not only that you loved him but how you loved him. There was a learning curve for a few months but things proceeded smoothly and happily for the years that followed. The two of you eventually moved in to a mutual apartment and forged a new life together. It was a quiet and peaceful life, one that Rafael Barba had never expected for himself but quite enjoyed. After all, he would have lived any life for you. 

   The night you told Rafael something was wrong with your cat he was heartbroken. Once again you’d sensed something was wrong with her before she even knew it herself. Your little kitten had gotten old and her body was failing her. The two of you took her to the vet the next day and after the labs were processed your intuition was confirmed. Your most loyal friend was dying, feline cancer, and there was little that could be done. Despite the minute options for treatment you tried them all. Diet, medication, everything. And nothing worked. Though you didn’t appear distressed to anyone else Rafael could see how frantic you were, how desperate you were not to lose your dear friend. He could see it in your eyes and sense it in your diction. 

    Two weeks later the time came. You held her close as she passed, laying on the ground with her soft body pulled into your chest. You watched as her wide eyes fell semi shut and her body tensed then slacked. You felt many things in that moment, abandonment, anger, pain and grief. You felt them all weighing you down like slabs of concrete. Rafael had gone to work that day but you had stayed home. You had known she wouldn’t be there when you got home. So you held her until she grew stiff and cold, smoothing her coat over and over before finally getting up to call the vet. 

   When the vet’s assistant arrived at your apartment she created a paw imprint as a keepsake for you out of some quick hardening clay. The tech explained that many people found the keepsake comforting especially when they couldn’t bury their pet. You watched as the vet tech carefully placed your companion in a plastic bag, hardly hearing the words that left her mouth as she apologized and offered her condolences. You smiled and nodded and before you knew it you were alone. For the first time in so many years you were totally alone. You waited for the familiar brush of your kitten against your leg but it never came. 

  Hours later you heard Rafael’s key in the door and the pregnant pause as he waited for your cat to make her way to the front door to greet him. Though she’d been getting slower day by day she still had been able to make her way to the foyer every day when Rafael got home. But not today. You heard the front door shut with a loud slam and your boyfriend came rushing down the hall dropping his brief case and a bag of to go Chinese food in one harsh motion. 

“Where is she?” Rafael asked, every word coated in anger.

“She died this morning, the vet’s nurse took her around eleven.” You got up and picked up the bag of food he had carelessly dropped. 

“You didn’t call me?” He asked bitterly following you into the kitchen where you began to unpack the meal he’d brought home. 

“Why would I, she wasn’t yours.” You spoke plainly, only turning around when you felt his eyes bore into your back. 

“I loved her as much as you did. I know this is hard for you but it’s hard for me too.” Tears had filled Rafael’s eyes and as he finished speaking they fell. 

“Why?” You couldn’t understand why he would feel the way he said he did. She’d been yours long before you’d met him. 

  “Because I love you, I can see how hurt you are and how helpless you’ve felt the last few weeks. It’s not your fault and I know you’re grieving in your own way but I would have liked to be there for you and for her.” Rafael reached for your hand but you pulled it away. 

“It’s not my responsibility to be upset in a way that you understand. She’s...she was my friend. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” You started angrily but finished so softly your voice was barely audible. 

You took a container of egg drop soup and a crab rangoon back to the living room and sat down to eat. After a beat Rafael joined you and the two of you ate in silence. You didn’t speak when you took the trash to the kitchen to throw out, and you didn’t speak when you climbed into bed. You laid there feeling angry and sad, but mostly sad as you mulled over your exchange with Rafael. 

   Rafael stayed up for a while, holding the little imprint of your cats paw in his hands. He just wanted you to feel better, to open up and let some of the pain out but he knew he had to be patient. After all, he was frighteningly similar to you when it came to things like this. Rafael had stifled his emotions so many times throughout his life and career that they rarely showed, but god they burned away inside his chest and turned his stomach. It was then that Rafael Barba began to cry, not only for you and the pain you were enduring but for his sweet little girl, your cat, who he had come to love so much. Rafael had never really bought into the whole idea of having a pet but your cat had taken to him so quickly and he’d fallen in love. She became his little girl despite her already being quite old when they’d met. Rafael sobbed as silently as he could where he sat on the couch, tracing over the imprint her paw had made in the white clay. 

   You assumed Rafael was in his office so when you got up to get a glass of water from the kitchen it surprised you to find him on the couch, his shoulders heaving up and down with the weight of his sobs. When you moved closer you saw what was in his hands, the paw imprint. Seeing the man you loved mourning the loss of your treasured companion you too began to cry as you fell to your knees in front of him. The two of you stayed there for a while, both grieving together yet separately. Eventually Rafael pulled you up into his lap and his arms, letting you cry into his neck as the release of anger, grief and helplessness flooded from you. When you found you could speak again you did, telling your boyfriend just how you felt, how hard it was for you and why. The most amazing thing was that he understood, not just you emotions but your expression of them. Rafael spoke next, revealing the depth of his grief as well. Though you’d been together for years it shocked you just how similarly you dealt with things like grief and pain.