"Kathryn."
I shiver, wrapped in a lone lyric coursing like a river between the bowed banks of your lips and percolating through my skin.
You call me "Kathryn" as you drag your lips along the vale between my breasts, up the slope of my chest, to the apex of my mouth. You kiss me there at the summit, and I am swept away.
Your hands slide down the curves of my body as if I were clothed in silk rather than skin. I am a queen, an empress, a goddess, and you kneel before the throne of my beauty to ask for permission to worship.
You used to call me, "Captain." But, that was a different life. A captain does not have freedom to love. The space between her heart and her mind must always remain as tightly cinched as the space between her thighs. There is no room for error. There is too much at stake.
But, I am not a captain anymore.
So, tonight, I grant your request. You smile with dimpled delight, and you make a nest between my thighs. We sigh at the touch. We swim in silk.
And you call me by my name.
"Kathryn."
A/N: Some fellow authors and I have been challenging each other in our creative writing endeavors, prompting several Voyager drabbles. This is my favorite, but I have all of them posted on my AO3 account (carlynroth) if you're hungry for more!