He spins her so suddenly that paint flicks from her fingers and a little gasp escapes her lips without her consent. A thousand things flash through her head in the instant that he holds her still, from intense desire to wicked loathing. She hates him, wants him, loves him, murders him, senses him so exquisitely that her teeth grind against each other and every muscle in her body tightens to breaking point.Dig your fingers in, let the paint whisper through his thick hair, lick the sweat off his muscled neck. Let yourself go, Kara Thrace.
Her body aches from his touch, for his touch. Please, she intones through gritted teeth. The fierceness begins to wear her shell thin; Starbuck is the animal inside Kara Thrace that lives for fighting and fraking, and the thing fighting against that shell is most certainly Starbuck. Feel the pulse in his chest against yours, sense the slick paint smoothing the friction between them, feel his strong steel fingers locking you against the wall. Feel the stillness and let yourself go, Kara Thrace.
She holds onto the arrogance as long as she can. He just holds her for a moment, his ice blue eyes piercing her soul and shaving away the last vestiges of Kara Thrace. Fear passes suddenly into her eyes, the anger burning itself out like a torch that she would hold against the black universe. Then his mouth covers hers, open and warm. He presses so hard against her that her breath is forced from her, and her toes slowly break contact with the floor. His strength turns her on, his absolute brutality quickening her pulse. Feel the desire that shakes your world and let yourself go, Kara Thrace.
He rips the half-buttoned shirt from her shoulders and pins her to the wall, holding her arms back and pulling away just enough to watch her struggle. She fights to get closer to him, as the hunger overtakes her and she feels the dangerous things stirring in her. She fights to escape him, the prisoner in the gilded cage screaming inside her head with a voice that will soon be overtaken by the desire. She fights simply to take some ounce of control back from him. He watches her driving herself against him, his eyes closing with the carnality of her full lips and her now-exposed abdomen. Seconds later he practically attacks her, and their lips are pounded together with a force that will leave bruises. Glory in the smell of his desire, allow your muscles to tighten further against his. Enjoy the pain and let yourself go, Kara Thrace.
Her higher functioning shuts off slowly as he nears her breaking point. With every man Kara Thrace has ever been with, her mind would wind to a primal halt and she'd release herself on him, all wild grace and angry physicality. No man had come away unsatisfied, but no man had come away unscathed either. Something old and dangerous was emerging from the facade that she kept so close, and it was a beast that she had come to fear. The slow of time, the rush of adrenaline . . . every man except Lee. Lee had taught her to shiver, to wait, to want. As he'd touched her, explored her, learned each curve of her body, she had experienced him in a way she'd never imagined. He'd kept her attention, forced her to stay inside herself, to not disappear into the foreign being that she always became. He'd dominated her not physically, but in some higher way that she'd never known before. Her desire for him had not abated after she'd had her way with him. Forget Lee and let yourself go, Kara Thrace.
As Leoben ravages her shoulders and neck with his greedy lips she hates him, oh gods does she hate him. He's stretched her to breaking point, demolished the defenses she'd held so close to her throughout her life. Her smile was broken by him, the wide one that she used to cover her fear and her loneliness. He knows too fraking much about her, and she hates him for that. Hates that he knows enough about her to see through her and read her emotions. Hates him for the way she gives in to him every day, the way she does want him and does need him and does want his steely fingers to bruise her arms and make her forget the life she had before. She locks into his eyes as she begins to lose it, pressing herself down and into him, the anger flowing between them freely. He turns again, her body still clamped against his and lifted slightly above the ground, and they fall hard against the floor. Her mouth gapes open for breath, but his lips are there already and she feels like she might suffocate underneath them. Study the white paint now covering your hair and his. Feel his hard abdomen flatten against yours, then rise away as he prepares to dig deeper into your skin. Gasp for breath and let yourself go, Kara Thrace.
Lee's lips were softer . . .
She clamps her teeth onto his lower lip and pulls, eliciting a growl from him that satisfies her for only a moment. The control she gains, the way he is at her mercy for a split second, brings her back to lucidity for a moment. When she releases him, she tastes blood on her lips and licks it away slowly. He grabs her head roughly and pushes it to the side, and she bucks under his weight. Allow him to use you, allow him to call you his as long as he continues to touch you. Feel his strength and let yourself go, Kara Thrace.
Lee's touch was more sensitive . . .
Leoben brings out the worst in Kara. He brings out Starbuck, in all her angry glory. He brings out the violence, the control, the power-hungry mess of a woman that Starbuck is. Someday he would like to tame that, feel her willing body lay next to his without any promise of sex or fighting. But now is not the time – she wants it rough, she wants him to hurt her and make her feel. He obliges her, not softening the blow of his body falling on top of her, forcing her legs apart and causing her to grunt with the sudden weight. Fight to breathe under him, but your breath is stolen by every hungry kiss he takes from you. Feel the pain he inflicts on you and let yourself go, Kara Thrace.
Lee discovered her body more reverently . . .
The paint covers both of them now, drying in their hair, making their bodies sleek and pale. She grasps a thick lock of his hair hardened by the paint and drags her fingers through it, ripping away several of the hairs, but he makes no sound in reply. He's only half dressed now – she guesses she had something to do with that, but can barely think past his lean body and the dabs of paint she has left on it – and he fights away the last semblances of her modesty as he rips out the last of the buttons on her shirt and kisses down to the lip of her bra. Feel the steady rhythm of your heart beating against his lips, study the light catching on his hair like a golden halo. Wait for the familiar disconnect between your body and your soul and let yourself go, Kara Thrace.
Lee had whispered sweet things in her ear . . .
He's dead weight against her, every muscle tight; he pushes himself against her as hard as he can, forcing her to give in to him, forcing her body to bend into his. He touches her . . . just there and she arches against him. There, finally, she lets go. The wild strength releases and the arch of her back hardens and exaggerates underneath him. He rides out the movement and she writhes headily beneath his body, teasing him with each motion and trailing her fingers on his skin. Her nails bite deeply into his back; there will be blood on her fingers again, red staining the white between them. You've given yourself over, you've unleashed the beast now. You've let yourself go, Starbuck.