Part 36: Second Step to Resolution
Kara could not begin to put words to what she was feeling as she knelt there, an unworthy supplicant before an incarnated god. How had it come to this? How had things spiraled so far away from her control that she'd --
If Lee wanted her life, she would surrender it without complaint. She deserved nothing better, especially when she had instigated this -- this violation of him to begin with.
"I'm going to touch you." She should have frakking known better. The second she'd felt his skin, that simple contact that was it. Game over. She was a frakking junkie who had gone five years without her fix. Was she deluded enough to think a simple taste would satisfy her?
But it hadn't been a simple taste, had it? Touching his hands, okay, that was a socially acceptable and safe bit of contact. Then she had gone and lost her mind and forgotten her station here and decided she wanted more. Lee's asking her what she was doing should have snapped her out of it, if only he hadn't spoken in that damned low voice he used -- the same one that never failed to soak her panties and make her forget the rest of the universe.
This time it was worse. First her mouth spouted off before she could stop it, telling the truth in one breath ("I'm going to touch you, Lee."), then lie in the next ("That's all."). That was bad enough. Then her fingers got into the act, committing mutiny against common sense and proceeded to pull his jacket and tanks off him, because her eyes decided they wanted to touch him as well and get a good, full look at the body she had been clinging to the last two nights.
That chiseled chest of his, so frakking perfect in form and design it would have made Aphrodite weep, had her mouth watering, and itdrew her in as surely as if Lee had reached out and pulled her. Her lips were on his shoulder, pressed as hard as humanly possible. His skin tasted of sweat and soap; it should have repulsed her. Just the thought of touching another man, touching anyone's skin, had quietly repulsed Kara for years.
Instead, she commenced raking her teeth across that hard skin, her tongue leaving a trail of passage as she went.
Why Lee stood there and allowed her to take such liberties, well, it wasn't something Kara wanted to question or analyze. He was showing a lot of generosity here, and she was determined to get as much out of it as possible. It might just fortify her enough to pay the price she was sure he'd demand for it.
"Kara," he breathed out, like a prayer. It was his soft voice. The low voice was one thing, never failing to leave her wet and wanting; the soft voicesomething else entirely. It left her weak, because it always sounded like religious rapture, which she knew was not something Lee Adama would otherwise experience -- were it not for her.
It meant she alone could invite the soft voice from him.
It meant she had power over him.
It never failed to make her feel faint from the realization. Except that time, right then and there in his bedroom in his mother's house, she didn't feel faint. Quite the reverse, as her every sense sharpened to crystal clarity and her hunger consumed the last dregs of conscious control.
Suddenly Kara couldn't smell his sweat or stale soap residue. Or rather, she smelled what was beneath that cover: that spicy mix that would visit her dreams so often when she was alone, or catch her unawares in the street. Kara knew those times were nothing but delusion, no matter how real the pang they invoked proved.
This time was different. She had the source of it right in front of her, and like a child set loose in the metaphorical candy factory Kara wasn't above gorging herself.
This was why Kara was soon kissing and licking her way down Lee's chest, sternum, and belly, her hands on his hips for support as she settled to her knees. Her fingers were soon working the catch and zipper of his pants, their actions wholly independent of higher thought. There was nothing remotely civilized about the growl that issued out of her throat when the clasp at his waist proved difficult.
Throughout all of this, Lee himself was apparently lost somewhere in his own head. Otherwise, he wouldn't have squeakedin complete surprise when Kara manages to pull his pants and skivvies down and fasten her lips onto his hip. He offered no word of protest or placed any demand that she either speed up or slow down. Kara went so far as to risk a quick glance upwards, certain this would break the spell between them, only to feel a frantic, carnal tattoo start up in her chest at the sight of Lee's exquisitely blissed-out expression.
Kara actually debated with herself whether to press on, conscious that Lee hadn't verbally offered the whole of himself to her. True, he'd said she was in charge here, whatever the frak that meant, but Kara wasn't sure that necessarily translated into her being afforded all liberty with his body. Her brain had kicked into high gear and was coming up with all sorts of liberties she could take with him.
The fact he didn't seem to be entirely conscious, and therefore not immediately able to offer consent, was another worry that threatened to overwhelm what pleasure this whole interlude was offering. Was there any sense in including rapist to her list of sins? Better she put the brakes on this, apologize, and find somewhere else to sleep for the night.
All those fine and noble thoughts fled at the first glance to the right.
Her mouth went dry even as the rest of her gushed like a flood at the sight that greeted her. How the frak had she not seen how -- big -- he'd gotten? Kara couldn't, literally couldn't stop herself from reaching out and cradling him, one hand palming his sac, the other running over his silk-smooth skin foreskin.
Another debate started within Kara's mind, the options quickly bled down to mouth versus vagina. She chose the former, but only because it didn't involve much movement or further delay. She was impatient to feel him inside her and was far past the point of being picky about just where penetration occurred; she wanted it to happen right frakking now!
Lee moaned again as she slid her lips, knees buckling for a second and hips jerking, exactly the way Kara could remember they did the countless times before. She was amazed how clearly she recalled the nuances of his arousal. His knees would tremble three times, and then lock tight, but never in tandem. A full body shudder would work its way from his hips up through his shoulders and end with his upper half making a small twist to the right -- followed by one to the left -- he'd heave three breaths, then calm, because that way he'd fight down the urge to shoot his wad too quickly.
Her mouth worked him while her hand continued to work his sac, rolling its surprisingly tight contents around in that particular way that soon had Lee panting hard. As fully as he filled her mouth, Kara found the dexterity to take him entirely, her nose nearly brushing his coarse nether hairs. His scent, his musk, filled her nostrils as fully and choked off any further restraint she might have mustered. A few swipes of her tongue along his underside, coupled with a gentle tug on his scrotum, and Lee's entire form went still --
-- then jerked hard from head to crown as he emptied himself into Kara's waiting mouth. She took it all in deep gulps, not loosing a single drop.
They hadn't uttered a sound the whole time.
He remained hard for several long moments after it was done, and Kara was more than content to let him remain where he was. Ultimately, however, nature reasserted control, and he softened and withdrew from her lips. With him went any elation Kara that might have otherwise buoyed her against the sudden wave of guilt the swamped her thoughts.
What have I done? Repeated over and over in her ears. What have I done? What have I done? What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?
The answer was so obvious she actually had to reach for it: she had just committed rape. She had finally reduced herself to the same level as that frakker Lake. Gods, was she crying now? What frakking right did she have to shed tears over anything?
Kara felt rather than saw Lee move away. Given her head was bowed, it barely registered that he did so purely so he could kneel down and bring them to eye-to-eye.
"Kara?" She flinched slightly at the hoarse tone he employed. "Kara? What do you want me to do?"
He couldn't have stunned her more if he had whacked her upside the head with a stickball bat. He was asking her what she -- what she wanted? Wanted from what? More to the point, from whom?
Kara found she didn't need to reach for answers this time, at least consciously. Just as well as her conscious control had apparently fled the room and likely the twelve colonies entirely. Her internal auto-pilot directed her head to move laterally to align with the horizon, then brought her eyes into direct LOS with Lee's, and finally moved her arms so they reached out and took his hands in hers once more.
She brought his palms up to her face, turning them so the palms were barely a hair's breath from connecting with her tear-streaked cheeks.
"Touch me."
Kara would have sworn it wasn't her voice asking for this. Except it was.
Her own hands fell away from Lee's, those hands closing the distance to her cheeks. His thumbs gently wiped away the fresh tears that leaked from behind her lashes, his palms easily covering the rest. His touch was light, cautious, as if he feared the smallest pressure could shatter her bones. It was a tender touch, at once familiar and painfully alien, and it brought fresh tears, which softened and obscured her vision.
She had no idea what Lee saw in her, or what expression he may or may not have worn as consequence.
It was only natural, then, that she be shocked once more when Lee drew their faces closer and just as gently-implacably brought their lips to meet in the middle. He had even tilted her head slightly, as he always had when they kissed.
Kara Thrace no longer existed in anything a normal person would refer to as reality. She resided now in a timeless place where the only measure of all things was the sensation of Lee Adama's skin on her own. She wanted more and more and more of that contact between them, the will of the gods and the laws and morality of men be damned; she wanted to feel everything --
Perhaps she'd said this aloud, as Lee chose that moment to release her head and join their hands once more. Kara could feel him scoot away a pace, and then climb to his feet, drawing her up with him. She was of no mind to ask his intentions. There proved to be no need to, as he quickly undid the belt to her robe, which pooled at her feet.
It was fortunate, for both of them, that her altered state of consciousness was so thorough. Otherwise, she might have been tempted to protest when Lee knelt down and took up the hem of her nightshirt. Perhaps he expected some manner of protest or fuss as he paused there, making no move to rise.
"Kara?" It wasn't the low voice this time, or the soft voice. It was Lee's voice, asking her a hundred different things without needing to voice the words.
She had no answers for any of them and didn't seek any.
Instead, she made a decision, and acted on it.
Bending down, she pushed Lee's hands away and gathered up the hem herself. There was no hesitation to her straightening up, pulling the material up over her legs, over her hips and up her chest, past her shoulders --
-- Pulling it off -- and tossing it aside --
-- turning to face Lee once again, clear-eyed now and utterly calm.
Kara knew she should have been a screaming basket-case right then, should have been curled up in a convenient corner and humming some crazy tune to herself to drown out equally crazy voices in her head.
She'd never felt calmer than that moment.
"Touch me," she repeated. "Please."
She closed her eyes and presented herself to the man before her. The man she was pledged to.
The man who'd saved her.
The man she loved.
He didn't leave her waiting long, his hands and lips soon finding familiar territory. Kara willingly lost herself to the rapture that followed.
Tbc...when you hit the arrow button below.