Taste

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Taste is a form of direct chemoreception and is one of the traditional five senses. It refers to the ability to detect the flavor of substances such as food and poisons. Classical taste sensations include sweet, salty, sour, and bitter.

The multiple finger shaped bruises on her thighs had gotten slowly worse through out the day and Jen was getting irritated at the morbid amusement that filled Gibbs's eyes whenever he noticed her wincing slightly as she crossed her legs, knowing full well what put the bruises there.

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Fingers pressed into the delicate skin on her thighs as Gibbs lifted her up around his waist and roughly lowered her onto him, the ferocity in his eyes taking her breath away almost as much as the speed with which he had taken her. Knowing that she was going to have fierce bruises tomorrow did nothing to curb her enthusiasm as she explored his mouth with her tongue, tasting the faint trace of coffee that lingered there.

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She licked�her lips slowly as if she could still taste him, and a smile graced her lips for the first time that day. The taste of him had always been something that captivated her. The ever present faint trace of coffee that flavored his kisses, the traces of sawdust that lingered on his skin as she ran her tongue over his nipples, the occasional trace of gun oil, and the more than occasional oaky taste of bourbon that lingered on his lips as he kissed her mouth almost made her weak in the knees, there was nothing quiet like the taste of him, nothing in the world that made her as crazy. She sighed exasperatedly as she turned the lights of her office off, trying not to think too hard about the previous evening, trying not to think too hard about how much she wanted to taste him, and closed the door. She glanced down at the bullpen when she felt�his eyes on her and she could almost taste the hunger in the air. She gave him a wry smile and entered the elevator. It didn't surprise her when it stopped on his floor and the door opened to him grinning. He waited until the doors closed till he pushed her against the wall and deftly flicked the switch without taking his lips off hers.

"I've been wanting to do that all day." He murmured against her mouth. She tasted of honey, she always had. It was a natural sweetness that mirrored her beauty and flavored her skin, mixing but not clashing with the faint saltiness of it.

"How are the bruises?" He flashed her a grin and she scowled at him, straightening her blouse as she flicked the switch to start the elevator moving again. His fingers entwined with hers and he gave her hand a squeeze. She reluctantly smiled, not looking at him.

"Come have dinner with me." It was more of an order than a request and she nodded as he pulled her towards his car, pushing her shoulders hard against the door and continued his onslaught of her mouth, his tongue reaching into it, almost dancing with hers. She drew her hands through his hair and pulled his face away gently.

"We're not going to make dinner if we don't move." She said her voice low with undisguised need. He nodded in agreement and opened the door�for her; she got in and watched as he climbed in next to her. He picked up her hand and kissed the knuckles; letting his tongue dart out to get his fix of her flavor, wishing that the taste would stay longer in his mouth so he wouldn't crave her quite as often as he did.

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His front door burst open, Gibbs followed unceremoniously with Jen in his arms, planting kisses all over his face, loving the pure masculine taste of his skin. He placed her on the counter in hte kitchen and she�grabbed a peach from the fruit bowl, Gibbs all but groaned at the sight of her teeth breaking the skin of the fruit. Juice ran out of it and down her chin, he�stopped�the hand that threatened to wipe the juice away and lowered his head, running his tongue over the trail of juice, savoring the taste of peaches and Jen, two tastes which complimented each other so well. He reached the corner of her mouth, running his tongue over her lips, still tasting the peach juice. She parted her lips slightly, her breath hot and sweet, giving him a taste of what he wanted before she pulled away, slid slowly off the counter, her hips grazing his as she did�and took another bite, licking at the juice that ran over her fingers, pulling each one into her mouth slowly, without breaking eye contact. He took her hand and bit into the peach, briefly wondering if it was wrong that the fruit in her hand was pressing all the right buttons and if it was only his imagination that the temperature in the kitchen has risen several degrees. Desire rose in the back of his throat, sweet and heavy, as she once again pulled her little finger into her mouth, her lips closing over it. She slowly pulled it back out and licked her lips. He had had enough and suddenly spun her around, pressing her into the sideboard, his hips pressed against her back and she felt his�desire hard against her, she shifted slightly and smiled when she heard his sharp intake of breath. His hands closed over hers on top of the counter as he lowered his head to her neck, kissing, licking and gently sucking on the delicate skin. She leaned her head back into his chest and one of his hands lefts hers. It founds its way to the waistband on her pants and hovered there, teasing her until she whispered his name and gripped his forearm, silently begging for more. He undid the buttons and snaked�his hand�inside, skimming the waistband on her panties, he fingered the hem before withdrawing.

"Lets skip dinner." He whispered in her ear and pulled her towards the stairs without waiting for an answer.

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Before she knew it, she was lying, flat on her back, with Gibbs's comforting weight pushing her into the mattress. His mouth left hers and kissed down her flat stomach. He looked up at her as he reached the bruises on her thighs. He winced slightly in apology, pausing before a wicked grin broke out across his face.

"What?" She asked warily. His hands drifted lower and skimmed over the skin of her inner thighs, reveling in the sight of her hips lifting up to meet his hand and her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

"I heard somewhere that licking bruises makes them better, something about stimulating blood flow." He said, his hands working magic between her thighs. How she managed to glare at him, he would never know, but as he lowered his head and his tongue licked the bruises made by his fingers, he didn't care about the look she gave him. All he cared about was the taste her, savoring the taste of her desire, the taste of her skin�as she bunched her hands into the duvet, wishing that they could stay this way.

V!

xox

Thats the end of Sensory Overload, hope you all enjoyed it.�