Chapter Six – Lightning
The journey through the rain seemed much longer on the return. Spock's head was dizzied by unanswered questions and the disobedient part of him simply wanted to stop thinking altogether – to redistribute resources elsewhere. Nyota was pulling him by the hand, coursing through the now vacant streets. The heavy rain fell in large, hard drops. It was like running through a wall of water. 'Were my intentions so transparent in the dining hall?' Spock wondered. He thought of his careless display of territorialism, then shook the memory from his head.
Slowing his pace, he pulled Nyota towards his body – hard. Wrapping his arms around her, his lips sought hers. The contact of his skin against hers could only be described as electric. Millions of tiny sparks seemed to dance across his flesh. Hot white flashes of lightning filled the otherwise pitch-black night, and Spock felt intuitively connected to the tumultuous weather. He watched her as they shared a long, passionate kiss. He found himself unable to suppress a moan as she nipped his lower lip with her small, sharp teeth. Her eyes were closed; long lashes lay gently on her cheeks. Overexposed from the lightning strikes, Nyota looked like a perfect form carved from fine marble, her skin smooth and stretched taught over her delicate bone structure. Spock pressed more firmly against her mouth, allowing his eyes to slip close as well. Hot red warmth spread to his limbs, fingers and ever swelling arousal. Energy from the earth below and the storm above seemed to fill every fiber of his body, joining his essence with hers.
She pulled free, "We should really keep moving." Nyota's voice was breathy and dark; Spock finally felt at ease with his own want. "Yes, of course," he agreed. Once more she yanked him by the arm, pulling him in the direction of the hotel. He knew it was selfish, but he could feel the desire running through her veins. Her fingers felt as tuning forks, vibrating with the most intense sensation of female sexuality. A stray thought entered his mind, brimming with vanity, 'It's all for me. Tonight, she's all for me.' Spock did not often allow himself to indulge in such animalistic behavior; however, this was all so different. The more primitive Vulcan aspects of his personality were surfacing and he liked it. The hunger in his heart, his katra and his hips burned more brightly than any flame.
The hotel stood large and obtuse among the small seaside properties. A halo of yellow glowed against the ink-stained night, casting a beacon into the pulsing sky. Nyota stopped abruptly under a streetlamp just opposite the garish building. Spock understood immediately her concern. Even in the low light he could see her impatience. He slipped his hand into his pocket, struggling against the soaking wet fabric. He growled as the wool trapped his fingers, limiting his dexterity. After a frustratingly long moment he was met with success, and produced his room key. He held it high and leaned close to her face, "Enter through the pool-side, my room is very close: just a few floors above. I will walk through the front door and meet you in my room. If you want to recant your decision, this would be the best time to do so."
He knew his self-control was severely impeded and did not want to commit any further infractions, although he suspected there were very few Regulations left to befoul. She didn't answer; rather she snatched the key from his hand and pressed a hard, bruising kiss to his lips. Nyota ran quickly, ducking to the left where Spock knew she would be en route to the side entrance. He took a deep breath, smoothed down his rain drenched hair and ventured across the vacant street.
Upon entering the hotel Spock praised himself for his forethought strategy. Several officers were sitting in the lounge, loudly telling more stories. It was clear many of them had been enjoying concoctions from the bar. He failed to recall the name of the officer approaching him, he knew it, but his brain seemed to be too sex-addled to remember. "Commander, come join us. You look like you could use a drink. Forget your umbrella?" he was a jolly man, but he was impeding his journey. "Thank you, but I must decline. It is not in my nature to partake in the drinking of alcohol. I am going to take my leave of you all...good evening," Spock gave a courteous nod the group and proceeded to his room.
Dark and soaked, the Commander felt rather out of place in the warm, brightly lit hotel. His boots squeaked viciously against the smooth tiled floor, trailing the evening rain with him. Climbing the stairs, he felt more at ease: the less attention drawn to his actions, the better. His stomach was still coiled tight, but his fear of censure was decreasing. Rounding the final corner, Spock resolved tonight would be completely different than all those that came before. He stood before his door for a moment, preparing for what awaited him inside; pushing it open he confirmed with himself, 'Tonight will be completely different.'