Disclaimer is in the first chapter. Other than Vulcan words, letters in italics represent people's inner thoughts.

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Chapter 3: Mating for beginners

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"You may enter."

Skon opened the door, walked into the room in his most regal way ... and froze after taking the first step.

T'Rama was waiting for him, of course. What Skon didn't anticipate was that she'd be standing next to the bed's foot totally naked. Her hair was down, an ebony waterfall that ended a little below her waist and came in deep contrast with her pale white skin.

He recalled images of her naked body as she led him inside the caves. But those images were blurred, distorted, and vague. Just thinking of those times, and himself out of control, brought him great shame.

Yet T'Rama was here, now, within his reach. And he was free of the fever.

He gulped.

Uncertainty filled him. How was he justifying his actions? They hadn't produced a child during his previous four Times, how they would achieve it now? Were there any guarantees?

He knew that although he was not impotent and T'Rama was able to conceive out of his Time, that possibility increased exponentially during the Fever.

Which meant that not only did he and T'Rama have to mate, but they'd have to increase the number of their mating sessions.

He gulped again.

"Skon?"

He realized he was still standing at the door.

"T'Rama," he bowed courteously, closed the door behind him and approached her, trying to keep his eyes on her face, instead of her two small breasts.

Her nipples looked arrogantly towards the sky, as if they were mocking Vulcan's gravity. Her waist was so thin; he realized he could almost circle it with his hands. Her legs were long, her hips round and between her legs was… a dark promise.

And her scent… He sniffed. She smelled like… unspoken promises given inside the darkness of a cave. Especially in the area between her legs.

His eyes darkened as once again he remembered the carnal, life-threating fever, his gaze still fixed between T'Rama's legs.

So much for attempting to concentrate on her face.

While Skon's eyes scanned her body, T'Rama, through their bond, sensed his uncertainty.

It must have cost him a lot to make such an unconventional proposal, T'Rama thought. Both of them – especially Skon – had been raised in the traditional Vulcan way; and she would never have dared to make such a suggestion.

Doubt rose in her adun. It was only logical then, at this difficult hour, to encourage him.

Besides, judging from the way Skon observed her body, he wouldn't need much encouragement.

"Would you like to sit?"

Almost startled, he tilted his head. "Yes, thank you," he replied and sat on stool.

"Not there. Let us sit on the bed."

He blinked in surprise. What was he thinking? Of course they had to sit on the bed; it was only logical.

"Yes, of course."

They sat on the bed, next to each other. Unfortunately neither of them was extremely talkative. As a result, an uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

T'Rama knew that Skon was ashamed, thinking of the Fever. Sensing her mate's uneasiness, she decided to make it easier for him. But how?

Ah, a conversation. The project Skon was currently working on.

"How goes your learning of Terran Standard?"

He breathed in relief. Now, that was something familiar.

"Very well. The English grammar is quite simple; the vocabulary is surprisingly thought-provoking though. One very interesting example of how Humans view logic is the word itself. We call it olozhika which relates to deductive reasoning as a state of mind. Humans call it logic and relate it to the verbal method of argument.

"While for us, logic relates to our minds, Humans relate it to speech. It is a perfect example of how a telepathic species evolves versus a non-telepathic one. Yet, in spite of that, the concept of logic is universal, regardless of the way species communicate. I am thinking of writing an essay on that subject. It is fascinating."

T'Rama almost sighed. Her adun was always so passionate about his work that, if she didn't cut him off, Skon could talk until his next pon farr.

"Standard English, however, has numerous expressions," he continued, oblivious of his ill-timed lecture, "which are used in a most illogical way. For example the word cool means moderately cold. But sometimes it is also used to describe a person's demeanor. It can be most confusing. That is why I decided to study two more Terran languages in addition, Latin and Greek, in order to comprehend the vocabulary in depth and be more fluent in scientific terms. This will greatly assist me in my analysis of the English language and my translation of the Teachings of Surak. I believe the teachings will be a major step that will encourage understanding between our species. Humans have a saying, scientia potentia est. That is Latin, it means knowledge is power."

"That sounds very interesting. Would you like to remove your robe?"

He hesitated for a minute before taking it off.

How illogical it is to hesitate, T'Rama thought. And how handsomely innocent he looks.

"I will take it," she offered, took the robe, folded it neatly and placed it on the stool. One less item to consider.

Skon tried to keep his eyes on the wall, instead of T'Rama's round posterior. It was perhaps one of the most difficult things he had ever done in his entire life. His bondmate deserved better than a carnal, visual inspection.

She sat next to him again but immediately, as if she was not comfortable with her body position, lay on the bed.

Skon tried to lessen his heart beat; it had increased by the unhealthy rate of seven point two percent.

He coughed, still facing the wall. "And how is your team's excavation of T'Karath hill progressing?"

"Very well. Come lie next to me," she patted the bed.

"…yes, of course…"

He too lay down. The bed was quite large enough to fit them both. Skon remembered it well; it was T'Ella's gift for their marriage. Back then, compared with the other gifts they'd received, the bed didn't seem so important. Yet now…

He stretched his legs. The bed was large, comfortable and most satisfactory. Skon decided to ask T'Rama which day was convenient to invite her parents for dinner. It had been some time since they had last eaten together. He filed that thought for later action.

And decided to initiate a conversation. "Are you hungry?"

T'Rama almost smiled. Skon was so pragmatic that sometimes he missed the forest for the trees. "No."

"Because T'Enia has prepared dinner. It's in the oven."

"I am not hungry, Skon." T'Rama offered him her right hand with two fingers extended. He looked at them for a moment and then responded to her gesture by meeting her fingers with his own.

The couple lay on the bed, facing each other. As they formed the ozh'esta, T'Rama sent him a warm affectionate feeling.

Her voice came out soft and loving. "Skon, I cherish thee."

Suddenly he felt like a fool. Why did he hesitate? T'Rama was his bondmate. He had known her for fifty-six years, eight months, fourteen days, three hours, forty-seven minutes and twenty-two seconds. And he too cherished her, with every single heartbeat.

"And I thee," he replied, while the heat from the ozh'esta spread all over his body.

"Oh!" T'Rama let out a yelp of surprise as Skon quickly turned her on her back and covered her body with his, his lok twitching with a strange and unfamiliar sensation.

Hurriedly, he spread her legs and entered her.

Oddly enough, the feeling was… not what he expected. It was a little painful, most probably because his lok was becoming hard and T'Rama was not… easily accessible.

Yet, this was how they mated during his Time. He had researched it.

He closed his eyes and thrust once, twice, three times as he tried to enter her fully.

T'Rama swallowed back a small gasp of pain. She didn't want to discourage Skon – although this was his idea, it had taken him an unusual long time to act upon it. And she definitely didn't want to spend the next half hour listening to him talk about alien grammar. So she opened her legs wider to give him better access and tried to rearrange her hips. Moving her body, T'Rama twisted her lips in discomfort. She could handle her adun's weight. If only they could just find that appropriate angle… … if only she were lubricated … if only his every thrust didn't hurt her dry ko-tik!

This position seemed to work for Skon, however, because after a few seconds he began moaning from pleasure. T'Rama was so narrow, so pleasant, and so soft, she smelled so good, she was… in pain?

He opened his eyes, already afraid of what he'd see. T'Rama's face betrayed her discomfort. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips were a thin line, as if she was trying to prevent herself from… yelling!

Appalled by her response to him, he quickly withdrew from her body. Breathing heavily, he resumed a defensive position and sat on the other side of the bed.

It was the last thing T'Rama expected – she was completely taken aback by his reaction. "Skon? Why are you—?"

"Am I hurting you? Why are you in pain?" he asked clearly panicked. There was nothing more unnatural and abhorrent to a Vulcan than the knowledge that he had hurt his bondmate.

And sensing Skon's panic, T'Rama became alarmed too.

"Skon – I am all right! Please be calm."

"For how long have I hurt you? Are you in pain during my Time?" It had never occurred to him, yet now… the mere thought was so horrific that the hairs on his neck rose. "Do I make you suffer?"

"Skon, please," T'Rama pleaded and looked at him with pain in her eyes. Oh, no. Not his Time again… The only thing her poor adun was really frightened of.

"You do not hurt me during your Time," she said in an attempt to calm him, but now Skon was even more appalled as he watched her in disbelief.

"Are you lying, T'Rama? You... are! I sensed your pain. It was I who—"

"Stop it! Right now!" she said in a firm voice, sending him a sharp mental reprimand. During their 28-year marriage, this was the first time T'Rama had ever raised her voice – only to immediately lower it again.

"Skon, please calm yourself. I was merely… unprepared for coitus."

"But my Time—"

"You know that the Fever affects me as well. I assure you, during your Time, I am more than ready. Just as you are," she added with meaning and saw the tips of his ears turn green from embarrassment. His eyes fell on the sheets.

"Skon, look at me," she pleaded, this time filling the bond with her unconditional trust. "You did not hurt me. I am stronger than I look, you know that."

"You are not stronger than me," he murmured, keeping his eyes averted.

There was no point in arguing with that. She would have to draw him back to her using other means.

Perhaps something… physical?

T'Rama reached out and began caressing him. Skon stiffened at her touch but did not move from his spot as his adun'a's right hand traveled from his chest, around each nipple, down to his stomach, and then moved lower and lower, until it reached its final destination, his lok.

As her warm fingers caressed his testicles, Skon's body jerked - another wave of lust flooded him.

This is good, T'Rama thought. Although he remained still, he was tempted. She decided to change her strategy.

"What can we do to get you…" Skon gulped, "prepared for coitus?" He still was unable to look at her.

She thought quickly. Skon had admired her body before. T'Rama knew she was not as brave as she appeared. But she decided to take a risk nevertheless. At this point there was little they could do to avoid it.

"I shall prepare myself," she said in what she hoped was a tempting tone. "You may watch if you want."

This was her first attempt at seduction, so T'Rama improvised. She brought the finger that caressed his lok to her lips, smelled it and then licked it slowly.

Skon had never seen anything similar before; he locked his gaze on her wet lips and his pupils dilated. Good, she thought; their gazes locked on each other. Now she had his full attention.

Next she threw back her hair and caressed her breasts in a way she hoped did not seem very irrational. However the result was as expected. Her nipples hardened, and so did Skon's lok.

Excellent, she thought. Unfortunately, he still kept his distance.

The same finger traveled down to her belly and reached between her legs as she began caressing herself.

"You see, in coitus, preparation is important," T'Rama purred and lay on her back with her legs spread apart and her knees slightly bent, so that Skon could see exactly what she was doing.

Skon held his eyes fixed on her and, illogical as it was, T'Rama, who had read about but never done something like this before, felt ashamed. She closed her eyes, in an attempt to concentrate and regain some confidence. Now, after four Times, was not the time to hesitate or be modest.

Soon her efforts were successful, as the scent of her arousal spread quickly between them. Her fingers became wet and so did Skon's mouth as he swallowed hard.

He looked at her body with flaming eyes, as her fingers moved in small circles around a certain spot. The memory of what she was doing was imprinted οn Skon's mind with a seal of fire. And soon T'Rama's folds were glistering with her essence while an intoxicating scent filled his nostrils and the entire room.

She smelled like… that desert flower, with its familiar, yet elusive scent, the smell that welcomed one to the desert, the real home of a Vulcan…

She smelled exactly like where he was supposed to be.

As T'Rama continued stroking herself, Skon looked down. His lok was hard, harder than before; in fact it was so hard it began to ache. He could take her now, but suddenly his mouth was dry.

He felt yearning… need… He was thirsty and before him was a fountain… He bowed between her legs to quench his thirst.

T'Rama, who still kept her eyes shut, sensed Skon moving. Good, she thought. He had left his shyness behind him and was approaching her. Her lips twisted in a subtle smile – her effort was successful. Soon they would be joined in coi—

Suddenly she felt Skon's breath between her legs. Surprised, she opened her eyes wide.

"Skon? What are you doing? Wha-a-a-a!" A squeal of surprise left her lips as she felt Skon's fingers sliding along her folds, caressing her clitoris. But she was sufficiently wet. They should be mating! What was he doing?

Breathing heavily, T'Rama looked down only to see him doing something extremely distasteful. He was on his knees between her legs, licking his fingers with greed. T'Rama was almost shocked; she had never seen Skon behaving like this. Where were his good manners?

"You taste exquisite," he stated, licking his fingers.

"T-thank you," T'Rama stuttered, but before she could suggest they resume their mating, Skon spoke.

"You are not properly aroused yet." And with those words, he launched himself once again between her legs, wrapping his arms around them. T'Rama grabbed the sheets and fell back on the pillow, letting out a mixed moan of pleasure and surprise.

"Oh! A-a-a-ahh-! Oh, ah, o-ohhhhh!" At first Skon was only licking her, as if he was experimenting with the area and the taste she left on his lips and tongue.

His mouth traveled from the entrance of T'Rama's vagina up to the clitoris and back again. However quickly he became bolder; he put his tongue inside her and sucked, first a little and then more forcefully. As he repeated the ritual and felt and heard T'Rama's pleasure, he became more relaxed and confident. He drew her lips into his mouth and massaged them with his warm tongue which was lubricated with saliva. The result was ambrosial and most pleasant to all his senses.

Then he really began his exploration. His tongue licked, his teeth bit, his mouth sucked.

"Y-y-y-yes. Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes! Oaaahh!" T'Rama yelled uncontrollably and grabbed the sheets as hard as she could. Was the cloth tearing? At this moment...

Nothing mattered … except Skon's strong tongue. He entered her repeatedly. He teased her playfully, he bit her gently, he explored her mercilessly.

After a few minutes Skon was sucking her so hard that T'Rama could feel her ko-lok pulsing rapidly. Having reached her limits, and unable to hold back anymore, she exploded, with a loud moan and as she came, his face and mouth were splashed with that bodily essence.

At first Skon sat up surprised. T'Rama was no longer moaning, only her breathing was quick and labored. She kept her eyes shut and her body was slightly trembling; her hands gripped firmly the torn sheet.

But… what was that transparent fluid? Then, it came to him. T'Rama's leaking was caused by her sexual peak. She had ejaculated. And it was him who had done it – he had elicited that reaction from her. He, Skon!

His pride peaked vertically. Followed by his lok.

Realizing he had just achieved a triumph over his previous failure, in a victorious gesture he swept his mouth with his palm. Then he wiped his hand over his throat and chest, marking himself with her special scent.

But T'Rama's reaction was only logical, he mused to himself. The tongue is the body's strongest muscle. Skon decided that next time, in addition to his mouth, he would use his fingers as well. Strictly for scientific purposes of course. He was curious to see T'Rama's reaction.

Panting and a little disoriented from the most unexpected orgasm she had ever experienced, T'Rama realized she had her answer to her previous question, about the possibility of an orgasm outside the Time. It was as certain as alien life on blue planets covered with water…

She drew several long breaths, trying to regain her control. The entire experience was most unexpected, yet longed for, and for such a long time, it was almost overwhelming…

Still … it felt odd inside her mind; her first orgasm outside the caves, inside their home. Everything was odd; the fact that she was lying naked on her bed, instead of wearing her nightgown … how her legs were spread wide open. The feeling of the sheets caressing her bare skin, as she lay on the soft bed.

And on top of that, Skon – not absent as he was during the Fever – but right inside her mind. His presence felt crystal clear, just like… every other time of day and night.

It felt so strange, as if mating wasn't a violent, hormone-induced act… but as if they had a choice. As if it was the most natural thing in the world…

Was it?

T'Rama opened her eyes slowly. Logic dictated there were no stars on the ceiling, yet she had to blink several times for her vision to clear. No, there were definitely not stars on the ceiling. How illogical of her to imagine there were.

And her adun… Skon was kneeling between her legs, watching her every move like a predator. T'Rama barely recognized him. What happened to the shy man who, a few hours before, had given her a sehlat cub?

T'Rama knew that face well. It was the same expression he had during the primary stages of pon farr, before the Fever stripped him of his logic.

Was her adun's mind still in there? "S-Skon?" Her voice faltered.

"You must be properly aroused by now," he said. Once again he covered her with his body and T'Rama welcomed his weight and warmth upon her …

This time, when he entered her, Skon felt … oh, a warm tightness surrounding him. Her tight muscles … her soft entrance, the way her body accepted and enveloped his painfully hard lok

The blood in his veins began to warm up; his body's temperature rose. For a moment it felt as if none of his body's nerves existed, except the ones in his lok. Then every nerve in his body exploded, in rapid succession. His adun'a was so wet and slick, so narrow, such a delicacy… And Skon realized that for the first time … with his mind and his body … he was home.

"T'Rama," he murmured, as he sheathed himself deep inside her, "k'diwa."

"Skon, adun," she moaned, her hands clutching at his shoulders.

Yes, it felt very odd, the weight of Skon's body on hers, because they were not inside the caves – they were in her bedroom. Their bodies, like their minds, became one, and T'Rama wrapped her legs around his waist trying to bring him closer. She had to bring him as close as possible – and even more.

Not wishing to lose T'Rama for a single second, this time Skon kept his eyes open and thrust once. Ηis lok's nerves were on fire - oh, it was pure pleasure. T'Rama rocked her hips, matching his movement.

Breathless, he thrust again – she followed his movements, sending him to a place of eternal pleasure. A deep rumble rose in Skon's chest as he began purring. Once, twice, three, four times, oh, he could go on all night, five, six, and then… "A-a-a-h!" he came with a surprised moan.

"W-why has this happened?" Panting and unable to comprehend what had just occurred, Skon withdrew his now limp lok from inside her. "I … don't understand! Isn't this supposed to last longer?" But of course it was! Every study he'd read confirmed that Vulcan copulation could last several hours. What had happened to his erection? Had he done something wrong?

But T'Rama had just had a good orgasm. Not as mind-blocking as the ones she had during Skon's Time, but a satisfactory orgasm nevertheless. She wasn't going to be upset or disappointed. Besides, Skon's hair was disheveled and he had his rare 'confused scientist' look, which always increased her affectionate feelings. She placed her hands on his cheeks.

"Oh, Skon," she sighed, caressing his shoulders and ears, transmitting through their bond a loving sentiment of reassurance. "Shhh… Do not worry. It happens sometimes."

Defeated and confused, Skon looked down at his treacherous lok, which had failed him at such crucial moment. "Sometimes? At what times? When? How often?"

Once again, T'Rama realized her adun's pride was at risk. But because Skon would never admit to being a proud male, she decided to spare him the details and offer … a general perspective.

"It is perfectly natural. For both of us. We are … inexperienced in this. I am certain that with practice we shall achieve the desired results and prolong our mating sessions."

Only that answer didn't satisfy him. Not one bit.

"How certain?"

"Pardon?"

"How certain are you?"

T'Rama was unsure how to answer that. Was he asking her for a specific percentage rate? "Fairly certain," she nodded. "There is a ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent probability, so adun, I am fairly certain we shall."

"Yes," he replied, with his pride clearly hurt, "but I have the lok."

Now she was offended. "And I have the ko-lok," she argued. "Skon, this concerns me as much as it concerns you. Did you think that being aroused is something we could achieve on demand?" T'Rama almost sighed. Her adun was a brilliant man, who could be incredibly naïve.

"We are both tired; this was a difficult day. Come, adun. Let us lie down and rest. In the morning–"

"Rest?" Skon's eyes flashed at the unspoken challenge and T'Rama nearly sighed. Oh, she was bonded to a very proud male. "We will not rest! We shall have lots of practice in order to achieve the desired results. You said so yourself."

"Oh!" T'Rama let out another yelp of surprise as Skon grabbed her by the ankles and laid her on her back, spreading her legs once again. This time his hand went immediately between her legs and two fingers entered her. She was still wet, Skon discovered caressing her folds. She was still willing.

A joyous sob escaped T'Rama. "Ehhh… Ah! I did say that, didn't I?" she gasped and pursed her lips to prevent herself from letting out another cry of pleasure. Circling her clitoris with his thumb, Skon smirked. Yes… she was very willing… and found this movement stimulating and pleasurable. He filed that information for later use.

"Yes, you did. So we shall proceed with lots and lots of… necessary coitus," he murmured softly, withdrew his fingers and joined her body once more.

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That night, he made a new discovery. That the mating experience was also visually fascinating. The way T'Rama's entire body moved in a dance he recalled only from a feverish dream.

Only now he wasn't dreaming.

Skon observed his bondmate's breasts as they moved in tandem with his thrusts. Her nipples hard and erect under his touch somehow seemed to become … alive. All of a sudden, he felt the need to taste them. He caressed with his tongue their dark surface as his fingers kneaded her breasts.

Those breasts … such a soft and warm part of her body. He worshipped those breasts. One day they would feed their children.

He sent that mental image to T'Rama; an infant on her chest, sating his hunger from her body. "Yes ... yes ..." she moaned and as their minds shared their deepest desire, their katras enveloped each other in a fierce passion.

With trembling tongue, T'Rama lapped his ear. Skon felt her hot breath invading every inch of his being and that was his undoing. He came hard inside her with a deep roar.

When his vision cleared, he gave her a bewildered look. It was odd, and despite the fact that he knew her, the bond wasn't lying. Skon was certain that–

"You did this on purpose."

She gave him a neutral look. Her large, black eyes were the epitome of innocence.

"Did I?"

"Yes, you did."

"Are you sure?"

There it was again - after all these years - that unspoken challenge. Only this time he wasn't a seven-year-old child. He was a man, a Vulcan man. And Vulcan men took challenges very seriously.

"T'Rama…" a warning left his mouth, the sound of her name stern and serious. He narrowed his eyes, curious to see how far she was willing to take that challenge of hers. It appeared that, after all these years, the time had come for him to find out.

"Yes, I am," he said in a grave tone, waiting for her response.

Her lips twisted in amusement. "Well, what are you doing to do about it?"

Which was … a logical question indeed. What should he do about it? What would any man do about it?

There was only one answer. He was still inside her and his logic told him that, at times like this, instinct always prevailed. Skon bent his head and sniffed lightly at T'Rama's shoulder. Then without any previous warning, he bit her forcefully, marking her once again as his. His.

Time to reestablish the fact. She. Was. His.

"A-ah!" A cry of pleasure escaped T'Rama's lips, as Skon's teeth marked her skin. Despite her firm self-discipline, her effort to control her response was unsuccessful. The area around her neck and shoulders was quite sensitive.

But she hadn't yet said her final word. T'Rama wasn't going to remain still under him and let Skon enjoy his undeclared revenge.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and before her adun any chance to react, she rolled them on the bed. Now she was on top and he was lying under her, his lok still inside her.

T'Rama gave him a slightly teasing look. Certainly Skon wouldn't remember that technique she often used inside the caves to ride him. No, his surprised expression spoke volumes. He didn't remember. He would never remember. Maybe it was for the best she never shared her memories from his Time, T'Rama thought. The truth – his profound weakness – would hurt him.

Skon was truly taken aback by that unexpected move. How had she rolled them so quickly? And how had she managed to accomplish that move while keeping him inside her?

"Promises, promises," T'Rama said in a half-serious, half-mocking tone, enjoying the view of her surprised adun lying helpless under her. "Promises of actions never accomplished are nothing more than hollow words that travel with the wind." She gave him a look of total indifference and faked a yawn. "I feel a little tired. Maybe I should sleep. What say you … adun?"

As usual, the bond pulsed with T'Rama's feelings. Commitment, affection, a fierce claiming, deep caring, a hope for the thing they desired to result from their coupling… And yet despite all that, there was also amusement about the position in which he found himself, and his temporary incapacity to … perform what he had threatened.

Skon's infinite memory recalled an image. That of a seven-year-old girl rolling her eyes, mocking his ignorance, shattering his pride. And remembered once again the effect she had on him, the reason he had claimed that rare creature for his own so many years ago. It couldn't have been any different.

He firmly grasped T'Rama's posterior and sat up, their bodies locked in a tight embrace.

Skon's eyes feasted on her bare form. He admired his bondmate's face, her large eyes, her full lips, her small, firm breasts, her hard nipples. Her soft, so soft skin. The way her black hair fell on her shoulders, framing her image. His left hand traveled from her back to her side, to rest on T'Rama's heart. His other hand ran through her hair, then gently caressed her cheeks as he looked straight into her dark eyes.

"My equal," Skon murmured, his fingers lightly touching her psi-points. "In every way, my equal."

T'Rama's breath was caught in her throat. All of a sudden, she felt completely naked.

How illogical, she thought, after everything they had done inside the caves over the years and a few minutes ago on that same bed. He was still inside her.

Yet, straddling her adun, feeling his strong body, his warmth, hearing with her own ears something she already knew in her mind … T'Rama felt utterly exposed, body and soul. Skon's intense gaze felt as if it could pierce to the back of her skull. He wasn't merely staring at her face and body. He was scanning her entire being.

Her gaze traveled from his eyes, down to his throat and chest. She always appreciated Skon's body inside the caves. It was symmetrical; it had good proportions, without being too muscular. And now, inside her bedroom, he had the softest touch – his scholar's fingers were very skilled and gentle. Her hands caressed his shoulders, broad and firm.

Then her mouth twisted; evidence of an unspoken mischief he was well acquainted with since the first day they met. Without saying a word, she bent down and bit his shoulder. Now it was his turn to moan.

T'Rama knew that this was exactly what Skon needed to become hard again. As her adun found out, during that evening.

.


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Later that night, as T'Rama lay sleeping, Skon watched her, thinking about their present status. They had mated in total four times and each time he managed to last longer. Although after the last time, T'Rama had asked if they could stop for a while, claiming she needed rest.

At first, Skon was surprised. But as he reached her through their bond, he found that T'Rama wasn't merely tired; she was exhausted. Unfortunately, he couldn't take the sole blame for that.

His mate hadn't slept well for more that twenty days. Before his recent pon farr, she was the one that made all the necessary arrangements and tolerated his irksome, almost hostile, behavior.

Next were the caves, where he had used her body callously for two days. When they returned home, she'd taken care of him until he felt better. Finally, when the healer informed her she was not pregnant, T'Rama had eschewed several hours of much-needed sleep for heavy meditation. She was sad … worried and anxious.

And tonight he came to her with this unconventional proposal. Yes, T'Rama was exhausted. She needed rest.

Skon took a deep relaxing breath, thinking he wouldn't have any objections to sharing T'Rama's bed as long as she agreed. It was large, comfortable and her scent was all over the sheets.

He stared at the ceiling, thinking about everything that had happened during the last hours. Apart from the torn sheets, his plan had a serious flaw. It was a vital and practical problem. In every one of the four - well, three point five - times they had mated, he was the one who climaxed and ejaculated. T'Rama hadn't reached an orgasm, except when he used his mouth.

So, half of his plan had worked; they could mate outside his Time. But in order for T'Rama to ovulate, she had to reach an orgasm as well. Also he would have to learn how to delay his ejaculation. And on top of that, they had to synchronize their orgasms. In other words, they had to recreate some of the events from his Time.

All that meant they would need to practice … a lot. Skon smirked and stretched his legs lazily. He didn't object to that thought at all. With practice would come perfection, and in their case, a child. And surprisingly enough, mating was proven pleasant… so pleasant.

He kissed T'Rama's fingertips affectionately as she slept in his arms. His bondmate needed rest, but she had to regain her strength quickly. According to his calculations they could mate another four to eight times before sunrise – assuming of course they skipped their morning meditation. Skon hoped she wouldn't object to that. They meditated every morning, surely one day wouldn't made any difference.

While he was occupied with these thoughts, T'Rama let out a soft moan and twisted in his arms. Skon's ears perked up. Perhaps she was ready for another round?

But… no. She didn't awake, merely rubbed her posterior against his lok – which made him hard again. Why did his lok harden so easy? He had to learn how to control that reaction. But that needed to wait until tomorrow. Not tonight. After everything else that had preceded… it was too much.

He looked down at himself. By this time, his lok was once again painfully hard and erect; in fact it was pointing at the ceiling … but T'Rama couldn't be much help. Desperate, Skon grabbed his restless member and tried to calm the arousal, when something unexpected happened.

Surprisingly enough, touching his member was proving … a relief. He squeezed a few times and imagined it was T'Rama holding him. That is was her hand grabbing his lok, squeezing, taking him inside her and then –

Suddenly T'Rama rolled her body, and with a soft purr snuggled up to him. Skon almost groaned. Now not only couldn't he touch himself, she was rubbing her entire body on his – a real torture, considering his level of arousal.

He thought of awakening her, and reached her through their bond. That was when he realized something. T'Rama was embracing him in her sleep because she wanted to share his body heat. She was cold.

Skon jumped from his spot. Quickly he covered T'Rama with a blanket, inwardly chastising himself. What was he thinking? His bondmate was shivering and all he thought about was his own pleasure – inexcusable!

That was when Skon realized they had forgotten to turn on the central heating. And every night, the house was surrounded by the cold desert wind.

Vulcans could control their body temperature. But that ability was limited during sleep. Being awake, he could control, but T'Rama was sleeping and needed warmth.

He hurried to the kitchen, where the main control panel was, and turned the heating on. Unfortunately, it would take one point five hours for the entire house to warm up.

Standing naked in the middle of the hall, Skon shivered, when an idea came to him. There was a place in the house that could be warmed immediately.

He went to his room, took three blankets and two pillows and ran to the living room, where the large fireplace was. He laid the blankets in front of the fireplace, hoping T'Rama would find the arrangement comfortable.

Next was the fireplace. It was old, but its mechanism was modern with a very discreet control panel on the wall. With the press of a button, he lit a pleasant fire.

Passing from the hall, Skon checked on the family's newest member. The sehlat cub had drunk his milk and was sleeping. Satisfied, Skon returned to the bedroom, where his bondmate was.

He approached the bed and for a few moments stood there, merely observing her. T'Rama's face looked so peaceful as she slept. Curled up in the blanket, warm … His. She belonged to him and to nobody else.

All of a sudden a blind fury rose within him. What would he do if another male ever saw how unique and beautiful she was? He would tear the offender apart. And he wouldn't need a lirpa – just his bare hands –

Startled, he blinked. From where did those dark thoughts come? Skon shook his head, as if that action would clear his mind. This wasn't pre-reform Vulcan; nobody would take T'Rama from him! They belonged to each other and they would spend the rest of their lives together.

Calming his illogical fear and fury, he took a deep breath to refocus himself. Vulcan control ensued from that dark side. Firm control. Life-saving control. Vulcans' open pride. Vulcans' secret need.

And he immediately decided against skipping his morning meditation.

Gently, he wrapped T'Rama in the blanket and picked her up; her weight was almost negligible as he carried her out of the bedroom.

A pair of sleepy black eyes opened. "Skon?"

"Shh. We will be warmer in the living room. I lit the fireplace."

"Hmmm." With a small moan T'Rama nestled against his shoulder, sniffing his scent. "The cub?"

"He is sleeping peacefully in his basket. He drank all the milk."

"Hmmm, good," she purred, still sleepy.

They reached the living room, where he settled her gently on the blankets, and settled himself next to her. Skon was pleased that his idea was successful. Although the house was cold, sitting in front of the fireplace felt warm.

Very warm.

TBC


Vulcan words (From VLD)

Olozhika: logic - the study of the principles of reasoning

K'diwa: beloved

Ko-tik: the external female genitalia

Ko-lok: clitoris

T'Karath Sanctuary: ancient catacombs located on Vulcan; a stronghold during the last Vulcan civil war 2 millennia ago (TNG Gambit)

From Wikipedia:

Lirpa: a Vulcan weapon consisting of a wooden staff a little over a meter in length, with a semicircular blade at one end and a metal bludgeon on the other.


A/N: T'Rama's quote, "Promises of actions never accomplished…" was written specifically for this chapter.

Once again I must thank SpockLikesCats who edited this chapter. Her latest Spock & Nyota story, which I absolutely loved, "Aaja Nachle - Dance With Me" is in my favorites.

The chapter's title refers to the protagonists, but it also serves as an inside joke for the author, who has never written a naughty scene before. As always, dear readers, your thoughts and ideas are most welcomed. I'd love to hear what you think of this story.