Cassidy sat at the table for a while, silent. She was oblivious to the dirty looks from the women around her, the drunken carousing. She lost at her own game.
She stood up, in a daze, and started walking toward her quarters. Jess cut her off.
"You made his bed, now you have to lie in it," she cackled. "Enough with the foreplay - just fuck and get it over with."
Foreplay, Cassidy thought. Is that what this was?
Cassidy moved deftly past her and was in her room. She didn't remember even walking there. It was as if she had suddenly shown up, teleported.
She was not ashamed of her body. She worked out, not obsessively, but enough. She was by no means stick-thin like the other girls on the ship, her shape was decidedly feminine, but she was actually not really worried about the nudity. It was the kiss that was the question.
One kiss.
She sat down on her bed, her mind overloading. Soon she had 10 minutes before she had to knock on his door.
She brushed her hair absently and put on her boots and a simple wrap dress that would, she hoped, speed up the process. The thought of being alone with him, trapped with nowhere to hide, gave her a feeling she could not readily identify.
She stepped out into the hallway. There was a small gaggle of women standing at the side of the corridor, giggling and not even pretending that they belonged there.
"Find somewhere else to stand!" she shouted as she knocked on his door. She didn't stick around to see if they left. She heard a loud thud and footsteps. The door slid open and she walked in.
He was standing at the other end of the room, his back to her.
"Let's just get this over with, okay?" she snapped, irritated.
He turned around and she eyed him suspiciously. He was wearing a button up shirt, undone at the top, and slacks. His hair was damp, as if he had just showered. He said nothing. His face was serious, thoughtful. She had forgotten how handsome he was.
She was surprised to see him so…quiet. She expected him to leer at her, tease her. Instead he seemed as if he was wrestling with something internally, two lines deep in his brow. She was not sure what to make of it.
He sat down on the bed, hunched over, and tented his hands.
"I'm giving you a chance to back out," he said quietly. "You can leave if you'd like."
She walked over slowly, saying nothing. She sat down next to him on the bed, and looked down at the floor.
"No. You won fair and square," she said. "I was overconfident. Collect your prize."
For once, she seemed calm, shy, submissive. He brushed the hair from her face, studying a small smatter of freckles on her cheeks. He never noticed them before. He took both hands and placed them under her chin, turning her to face him.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his deep brown eyes questioning, his forehead against hers.
She nodded silently.
And with that he leaned in, ever so slowly. She closed her eyes and felt his lips gently cover hers. He held them there, tentatively, tenderly. She felt a slow burn inside of her, aware of his enveloping presence, the scent of his skin.
He pushed her mouth open with his lips, his tongue slipping inside, gently probing, exploring her warm softness. She gasped and moaned, her breathing ragged, electrical pulses shooting up and down her spine.
Ah, chemistry, she thought, her mind running wild thinking of his powerful body above her, his hand between her legs first, and then his mouth…
He pulled back slowly and went back into her slightly open mouth even more sensually this time, his tongue dominating hers, teasing her. It was as if in a single kiss, he was telling her, showing her, all the possibilities of what could happen if she let him take her then and now.
There's something more going on here, her mind warned.
He broke the kiss and moved his hands into her hair, gripping it with a slight tension. She shivered. He moved his mouth so that it was next to her ear.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked quietly, into her ear, his breathing uneven.
Oh, God, she thought, that voice. She had gotten used to hearing it from his visor, almost from a distance. But to hear him speak directly into her ear, with no mechanical feel and a completely open line of communication, it did things to her that she never thought possible.
He was seducing her with it and she was helpless to stop it.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked her again.
She closed her eyes as he began kissing her neckline, biting her lightly. Point of no return, she thought. If this happens, there's never going back. The most she could do is push aside her feelings, make it an explosive, powerful, carnal fuck, a one-shot that made him think that she cared nothing for him, only his body.
Take control, her mind screamed as he kissed her neck, tasting her skin, giving her goosebumps.
"No," she whispered, her heart nearly thumping out of her chest. "Don't… stop."
She moved away a bit and climbed up, into his lap, straddling him. She ground into his groin, feeling a tremendous hardness there, his enormous size. He moaned, surprised. She wrapped her arms around him, her hands on the nape of his neck, gripping it. Her eyes narrowed, looking into his.
"Fuck me, chief. Fuck me hard," she commanded.
He paused for a moment . This was not what he wanted. What he really wanted was to tell her how he was falling in love with her, how from the moment he saw her, he ached for her, and how he couldn't stop thinking of her. His training was going horribly, he barely ate.
He began to feel highly irritated. He knew what she was doing. She was making it seem like she was using him, even though he was nearly positive that she felt more for him than that.
But he would play along…for now. He would give her what she wanted, and then some. He had a narrow window of opportunity, in danger of sliding closed. He had to take it, even if the situation wasn't optimal.
"Fine," he said angrily. The anger would help him through it. She would probably get up and leave immediately afterward, coldly and dismissively. Maybe if he cheapened things, if he enjoyed her body and pushed his own feelings aside, he could forget about her and feel almost normal again. One could hope.
He lifted her up, one hand firmly on her ass, the other gripping her thigh. Her legs wrapped around his waist. He slammed her against the door with a loud thud.
"If you want that, I'll give it to you," he nearly growled.
They began kissing with more force this time, hungrily. She was shocked at the strength and dexterity of his tongue in contrast to the softness of his lips. He ravaged her with his mouth.
He reached down and lifted up her dress, and in one swift move and a snap, ripped her panties clean off, discarding them behind him. Her eyes widened. He pushed his fingers into her soft folds, feeling an enormous rush of wetness there. He looked into her eyes as she did this, not even hiding how angry he was.
He pushed one finger in her, then two, then three. She moaned and gasped loudly with each one, shuddering. Her nipples were stiff and standing at full attention.
She heard a zipping sound as he pulled himself out. He was ten inches at least and beyond hard, throbbing. He lifted her higher on the wall and held himself firmly at her wet entrance, teasing her with the head of his cock.
"I was going to take my time, I was going to make this easy," he said, his voice a low rumble. He was well aware of his size and the pain it caused. "But since you…."
"Just do it," she cut him off, breathing heavily.
He shoved himself inside of her, full force, and she cried out, long and loud as he filled her, nearly ripping her. It was an incredible burst of pain, a powerful feeling of pressure and pleasure and hurt. She was wet beyond belief, but even that could not temper the pain of his size.
"….it….hurts," she gasped, her eyes squeezing shut, her hair falling across her face.
"Well, if you weren't so tight…" he trailed off.
He was not going to last. Despite his irritation at her constantly fighting him, the anger he felt at her game, he could feel her from the inside now, closing in on him, soft and wet and warm. He continued plunging into her, hard, gritting his teeth as she cried out for more, building to an explosive orgasm.
She was close. He could feel it.
When she came, it was primal and explosive, her long moans and cries filling the room. He felt her shudder against his shaft, a warm rush of wetness, and her entire body stiffen as every muscle contracted.
She got what she wanted. Now it was his turn.
He groaned as he pushed into her, even harder, his hips punching forward and up. Here it comes, he thought, feeling his stomach muscles tighten, his cock nearly coming out and plunging in deep, again and again. He pushed in as far as he could go and exploded with one long, grunting moan, shooting deep into her. He pulsated for nearly a minute, shooting his seed into her over and over, his head falling back in ecstasy.
He rested his chin on her head as she panted heavily into his neck, his forehead pressed against the coldness of the door. They stayed there like that for a few minutes, him still inside of her, his mind memorizing the achingly soft moistness of her insides.
Once his heart stopped beating like it would fly out of his chest, he placed her down gently and looked at her. Her hair was disheveled, her body covered in sweat, her dress sticking to her, leaving little to the imagination. She was so beautiful, but he felt terrible inside.
He never wanted to hurt her, physically or otherwise, but he felt she had forced his hand.
He turned away from her, leaving her against the door. He didn't do it to cause her pain - he was having trouble hiding his emotions. He cursed himself and wished he had is visor on.
"You can go now," he said quietly.
The next thing he heard was the door sliding shut.
He laid in bed for a long time, full of hurt. He could still smell her on him, her natural scent, her sweat and a faint whisp of perfume. If only she would stop fighting me, his brain screamed.
He could hear her walking in her room, the soft sound of her sitting down on her bed.
After a long silence, he heard a muffled, quiet sound of…crying? Was she crying? He put his ear to the wall and confirmed it. It gutted him.
He felt terribly compelled all of a sudden to go to her room, say he was sorry. To wipe away her tears and hold her, to make love to her like he wanted to, passionately and slowly and patiently.
He opened the door and checked the hallway for spectators. Everyone was gone. Good, he thought.
He knocked on her door, quietly. He could hear her shuffling around inside, and it was quiet for a few seconds. Then the door slid open.
She looked at him and said nothing, her face dry, but her eyes red. She had wiped off all the tears. She didn't seem cold like she usually was, but tired and preoccupied, not really looking at him.
"I…." he said. "…I'm sorry, please, let me…"
"I need to go to sleep," she stated, dazed. "I have an early morning…"
She was distancing herself from him again, shutting him out. It was a feeling he was well familiar with. He did it countless times, just to keep his team together. He mourned in private, in isolation. And now she was doing the same to him.
He nodded sadly and walked back into his room, defeated, the door sliding shut behind him. She had closed herself off from him. There was nothing he could do about it now.
Cortana materialized and stood there quietly on her pod, her purple glow illuminating the dark room like a candle. She always seemed to know when he was down.
He said nothing and sat up, staring at the floor.
"Chief," she said softly. "I warned you about this."
He sat silently, his face tense, worried. He blew it.
"I need to be alone," he said.
"Are you sure you're alright?" she asked quietly, concerned. She had seen him down before, discouraged, but never about a woman, and never this full of angst.
"I'm fine," he said sharply, shutting off the pod. He sat there for a long time in the darkness, half replaying the entire incident in his head, half cursing himself for obsessing over it.
Eventually laid back and fell into a fitful sleep. He would find her tomorrow. He would tell her how he really felt.
