After they'd shared a rare lunch in the admiral's quarters, Bill thumped down onto the couch, caught Laura's wrist as she made to walk past him and pulled her into his lap.
"Wanna fool around?" he asked, waggled his eyebrows and drew a laugh from her.
"Right now?"
"Why not?" He wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck. "We've got an hour before either of us has to be anywhere."
"Forty five minutes at best," Laura countered distractedly.
"Plenty of time," Bill rasped, nipping at the line of her jaw before pulling back to look her in the eye. "Plenty of time - for foreplay, the actual sex , and maybe even a nap - if we go at this thing seriously."
"How romantic," she laughed.
"No time for romance, Laura," Bill chuckled, held his arm aloft and tapped the face of his watch. "Clock's tickin'."
"A nap might be nice," she said with feigned contemplation.
"And sex," he emphasized, kissed her. "Sex would be nice."
"Mmm, it always is," Laura agreed, wound her arms around his neck and returned her lips to his, pushed her tongue into his mouth and engaged him in a long, heated kiss.
"Clock's ticking, Bill," she panted, resting her forehead against his when they broke for breath. "Better get this show on the road."
Foregoing a verbal response to Laura's statement, Bill lowered her to her back on the cushions, swung his legs up on the couch and lay alongside her.
"I'm glad you didn't wear pants today," he rumbled in her ear, slipped a hand under the hem of her skirt and smoothed his palm up the inside of her thigh when she parted her legs.
"Because the time it would've taken me to remove my pants might have eaten into our nap time?" she teased.
"Exactly," he grinned before kissing the amused smile from her lips. "And because I've been waiting to do this ..." he pulled aside the crotch of her panties, pushed a thick finger insider her receptive body, " ... all day."
"Have you?" she gasped, lifted her chin to allow his wandering mouth better access to the soft skin of her throat.
He grunted, ground his erection into her hip as she rolled her pelvis into the skilled movement of his hand.
"You feel good, Laura," he huffed, worked the wetness of her obvious arousal over the hard knot of her clit with the pad of his finger. "You ready?"
At her eager nod and accompanying hum, Bill got to his knees and began unbuckling his belt. Laura hitched up her skirt, brought her knees to her chest and hastily removed her underwear. She flung her panties to the deck and, as she straightened her legs into position on either side of Bill, watched for a maddeningly long moment while he fumbled with the button of his pants.
"Times a-wastin', Admiral," she chided impatiently, sat up and smacked his hands away. Making quick work of the fasteners, Laura tugged Bill's boxers and trousers down to mid-thigh and flopped back to the couch.
"Eager to ... get this over with and ..." his teasing was labored as he leaned over, placed his hands beside her head to support his weight, " ... move on to the napping portion ... of the afternoon?"
"Eager - y-yes," her breath hitched at the feel of his hardness sliding through her slick flesh and they both groaned when he hit upon her opening and entered her. They shared a contented smile, a lazy kiss, and settled into a slow, rocking rhythm.
Despite their rushed coming together, their lovemaking was unhurried, their deliberate movement an affront to the passing time. Each of Bill's shallow thrusts, every purposeful circle of Laura's hips, served to heighten their desire in graduated degrees, their mutual need ultimately compelling a quickening pace.
Laura dropped open her knees and tilted her pelvis, welcomed Bill's longer, more deeply penetrating strokes. She clutched at his uniform jacket, gathered the fabric in her fists and held on, encouraged his increasingly frenzied motion with taut body and loose voice.
Their eyes remained locked in a fiery gaze until Laura's passion peaked and her lids slid shut, her breasts straining against the buttons of her dress shirt when she arched her back and quietly came. Bill's orgasm was preceded by a graceless jerking of his hips, was followed by a discordant grunt and ragged intake of breath.
They lay together, his faced buried in the hair at her neck, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and enjoyed a continued intimacy in defiance of the clock. Only when Bill's waning erection slipped from Laura's body did they reluctantly stir from their embrace; he pushed off the couch, pulled up his pants and made his way to the head, and she rolled to her side at the edge of the cushions. Bill returned with a hand towel, which Laura folded and put between her legs as he climbed onto the couch behind her. He shifted to spoon her after she'd wriggled her skirt into place, draped a heavy arm across her waist and kissed her temple.
"How long have we got?" she asked drowsily, pressed her back to his belly.
" 'bout half an hour," he sighed.
"We're getting old, Bill," Laura said through a yawn.
"How do ya mean?"
"Our 'nooner' will include more sleep than it did sex," she said, yawned again.
Bill's chest bounced with a sharp chuff.
"You wanna go again?" he joked and they both laughed.
"I'm good, thanks," Laura chuckled, took his hand and clutched it to her chest.
"Don't sell yourself short, Laura - you're great," Bill mumbled, yawned himself. "That was a quality frak - wore me out."
"Shut up, Bill," she sighed sleepily, nestled further into his arms as he tightened his hold on her. "Clock's ticking."