Of Tea and Music

Chapter 7: After Shopping Comes - Rest?

When they were sure none of their crew members were near, and that at least six of them had seen them tasting and discussing the offerings of the tea merchant, they quietly slipped off down a side street, carrying their small bundles of tea blends. Due to a few discrete inquiries, they had a pretty good idea where they were headed. Two streets away from the market place they saw the sign they were looking for. With a quick look in all directions, they entered the small inn.

The inn proprietor came bustling up to them, offering food, drink, rooms. Spock dipped into the small stash of local currency that had been issued to each member of the shore leave party and told the man what was required. He led them off down a hall and up a short flight of stairs, opening a door at the end of another short hall. They looked around, nodded at each other, smiled at the innkeeper, and entered the room.

Spock turned and slid the privacy bar across the inside of the door, while Nyota crossed the room and closed the shutters, flipping the catch down to ensure that they would stay closed. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and removed her boots. Spock sat on the other side of the bed and removed his.

"I believe that we have 58.95 minutes before we must begin preparations to leave." He stated, turning his head to catch a glimpse of Nyota as she stood to remove her uniform. He was still not used to seeing that lovely body revealed to him. He stood as well, removed his shirt, folded it neatly, and laid it in the chair against the wall. Then he dropped his slacks and treated them the same way. He had his hands at the waist of his briefs when he felt cool hands slide around his waist.

"Let me."

He gave a very small gasp as those lovely hands caressed his lower ribs, then slid down under the waistband of his briefs, gathering the fabric with them as they descended. He could feel that cool touch all the way down his hips, over his thighs, down the sides of his legs. He could also feel soft, cool touches against his back, a shoulder here, the curve of a breast there, arms brushing, skin enflaming. When she tapped his calf, he raised first one foot and then the other, freeing them from the fabric. She tossed his briefs onto the chair on top of his other clothing and rose up behind him, molding her body against his. He shivered.

"Are you cold?"

"No. The temperature here is sufficiently warm."

She laughed softly against his shoulder, nestling her face against him. "Then it must be me."

"Affirmative." She did have this effect on him. There was no way he could deny it.

She moved, circling around him, ducking under his arm, never moving her body away from him. All the skin sliding over skin was extremely titillating. When she was face to face with him, she snaked her arms up over his shoulders, clasping the back of his neck, and pulled his face down far enough that she could reach his lips as she stood on tiptoe. The kiss that followed was so thorough that they were both panting by the time they pulled away for air.

He found that both his hands were filled with her round bottom. He moved them, reveling in the feel of that silky smooth skin against his palms and fingers, the enticing smell of her, changing as she became aroused, the lightning streaks of feelings bursting through from the contact of skin against skin. He lifted gently, trying to get her positioned better against the growing erection between them. She moaned softly at him. That sound acted like a catalyst on his already aroused nerves, lighting them like flames. He growled softly at her, need growing. He lifted more strongly, her feet coming up off the floor now. With more confidence, he bent his arms and pulled her up against him, feeling her legs wrap around his waist as she moaned louder. He bent his face to her neck, which she obligingly stretched out for him. He kissed the soft skin there, then, growing bolder, took small nibbles. She moved against him, rolling her hips against his hardness, making the flames burn brighter. He almost bit her neck, then remembered that that would certainly show above her uniform and stopped, barely in time, frustrated. He moved his face further over on her shoulder and bit softly, not nearly hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough that she tensed, bowing her body against him. It was almost more than he could bear. He felt himself begin to shake.

He stepped backwards, one step, two. There was the edge of bed - he bent his knees, settling down, spreading his knees slightly. She was spread across his thighs, legs resting on the bed behind him, her wet center rubbing against him. She sighed and moaned and her hands had found his ears, stroking, rubbing, pinching, all the while her lips roamed over his neck, her breath cool against his fevered skin. Even seated, he began to shake. "Nyota." Only that one word, breathed out softly.

Then she was moving off of him and he was desperately clutching at her, the loss of skin contact a wrenching loss. "Come on, over here." She pulled him into the center of the bed, making him stretch out, covering his body with hers, one knee on each side of his hips. Then her lips were on him again, lingering here, there, everywhere, until he was lost in a haze of desire. And she bit him, on the neck, on the shoulder, just hard enough to make him crave more. And then she took him in her hands and guided him into her warm wetness and rose above him, bringing his hands to her breasts and rocking against him, so wondrous. They moved together, rising higher. He could feel her, all about him, inside and out. It was like no other experience in his life, what he felt when he touched her - nothing had prepared him for this. Could she feel this also? He raised one hand from her soft breast to her temple, setting fingers there lightly. As he moved his body beneath her, he sent out small, delicate tendrils toward her, questing. And was rewarded with a flood of such lovely fire that he cried out, almost losing his control, too soon. Above him, she gasped, then sighed.

Another few minutes, moving faster now, completely synchronized, and then shattering ecstasy flowed through them, flowing back and forth through the tenuous link he had established. When the shudders had stopped, she slumped softly down against him, laying her head on his shoulder, her face against his neck, her breath soft and cool against his skin. He held her there, content to just be, until the time registered.

He whispered against the top of her head. "Nyota, it is time to dress again." She lifted her face and he kissed her softly. They rose, made use of the pitcher of tepid water on the small table, dressed, reopened the shutters, unlatched the door, picked up their packets of tea, and made their way down the stairs.

At their return to the common area, the innkeeper approached. "Was your rest sufficient, gentles?"

"Oh, yes, very much so, thank you." She answered with a blinding smile.

The innkeeper watched the two lovers leave his establishment, smiling, sighing. If a short nap could make that lovely being smile like that, what would a little love-making do for her?