The Two Big Ones
Chapter eight - Honeymoon
St Malo, Bretagne, Earth
June 2263
Spock
After the cool damp of Switzerland, the north of France felt warm. He stood on the stone walkway at the top of the ancient wall and looked out over the water. The tide was storming in, cutting this town off from the mainland, turning it into an island. It was fascinating. Nyota wiggled in between him and the wall he was leaning out over and sealed up his jacket, then wrapped herself around him. "Aren't you cold? That breeze is getting stiff."
"I will be ready to go inside as soon as the tide is completely in. This is an extremely interesting phenomenon."
She laughed softly at him. "And our room has a lovely fireplace to warm up in front of."
"And you have chocolate hidden somewhere in your bag." He did not look at her as he said this, keeping his voice calm and level.
She let out a whoop and hugged him even harder. "Yes I do. How did you know that?"
He bent his head now and leaned his forehead against hers. "We passed three confectioner's shops with enticing displays of chocolate and you did not buy even a single piece. Therefore you must already have some."
She sighed. "You are entirely too logical sometimes. But you are right, I do have chocolate stashed away and in front of a nice fire seems like a good place to eat it."
"I have absolutely no qualms about that." His lips quirked up at the corners and he tilted his head to brush his lips against hers. "And now I am going to watch the remainder of the tide." And he lifted his head up again. But his arms remained wrapped around her, holding her close.
***
They walked back through the ancient town, being careful on the cobble-stoned streets. The setting sun shone through the stained glass windows of the cathedral, making them flare with fire. They stopped and bought a long baguette at one shop, just as it was closing. And in the shop next to it they found cheese. Fruit was in baskets on the sidewalk just down the street. With their supper now, they turned the corner and found the door of the small hotel where they were staying. Inside they stepped into the tiny elevator, wound the crank and listened to the chain ratcheting up. When it stopped on the top floor, they got out and used the ancient iron key to open their door.
The room was small, but comfortable. The bed was large and took up over half the room. It was covered with a deep feather-bed and a duvet almost as thick. It was amazingly warm, like sleeping in a cocoon. On the wall across from the bed was a fireplace, with a niche built into the wall beside it holding carefully cut wood. On the wall across from the the hall door was a large window, covered now by heavy drapes to cut the chill from the gathering wind. The sky had clouded ominously while they walked back and it would almost certainly rain tonight. Between the door to the hall and the fireplace was the door to the small bathroom. They had already had one disastrous shower in that curtain-free stall. Neither of them had been able to figure out how to direct the water so that it did not drench the whole room.
On the other side of the door to the hall stood a large free-standing piece of furniture that functioned as both closet and dresser. Nyota opened the front and hung their jackets inside. Spock carried the food they had purchased to the small table in the far corner of the room and then knelt and began to build a fire. Nyota removed her walking shoes and laid them in the bottom of the closet and then went over to Spock, prying his shoes off and returning to the closet with them as well. And then she brought him dry socks to replace the damp ones he was wearing. He brushed his fingers over her hand, letting her feel his thanks - and his expectations. She sighed at him.
She dug into his pack and brought out the knife in its case and set it on the table. And then she settled down in one of the chairs to watch as he finished with the fire-building. He turned and settled himself in the other chair and began to slice the bread and cheese and fruit, piling it up on the one plate sitting there. When he was finished, he stepped into the bathroom and cleaned the knife, bringing it back and laying it in the case, but leaving the case open so that any remaining moisture would evaporate. They sat and ate and talked about the things they had seen today, wandering about the town. And then she rose and came around the table and sat in his lap, winding her arms about his neck and began to kiss him softly. "Do you want your chocolate now?"
He nuzzled against her, breathing softly on her skin, licking her and making her shiver. "This is an unnecessary question, Nyota."
She sighed and nuzzled back. "But I like to hear you say you want it. I like to see your eyes when you think about it."
He buried his face against her neck, biting her gently. And then he opened the link wide, wide, and poured out his intentions. She gasped and arched her body against him and he smelled that wonderful scent that meant his Nyota was ready for him. He growled at her, his hands slipping under her sweater to cup her breasts, and she moaned, moving against him. He rose, carrying her with him, and yanked the duvet from the bed, dumping it on the floor in front of the fire. He laid her down there and began very carefully to strip her clothing off. And when she was bare, and laying there all spread out in front of him, her hair loose and tousled, he leaned over and inhaled deeply, drawing her scent in, filling himself with it before he began to remove his own clothing. By the time he reached his briefs, his hands were not entirely steady. He lowered himself, covering her body with his, and she ran her hands over his back, his buttocks, pulling him down closer to her, moaning. Moving slowly, he seated himself within her and she arched up beneath him, sighing his name. With long, slow strokes he pleasured them both, until she was incoherent beneath him. And then he bent his head and whispered to her, words that made her clench her muscles about him and pull them both into the heat, the light, the ecstasy.
Afterwards, she lay on his chest, limp and soft, the fire flickering on her skin. And then she rose and went to the closet and brought back a small round brown ball and held it out to his mouth. He took one bite from the side and she pulled it back, took a bite herself, and then offered it to him again. He raised one eyebrow - this was fairly dark chocolate and she usually did not give him that much. But she nodded her head and so he took it. And then she lay down again, curling herself around him and they talked. Her hands moved softly over his body, leaving trails of fire he felt he should be able to see. Her lips touched, here, and there, and left their imprint burning on his skin. He moaned softly at her and she sighed. He let his hands roam her body, so familiar now, exploring it as though it were new. Each curve, each plane, every lovely inch he tasted and touched, treasuring, and she sighed and moaned and moved against him, until he was on flame everywhere. He lifted her up, moving her body over his, settling her down, feeling her slide down, engulfing him. His hips rolled up, pushing against her, as she rocked against him, her hands clasping his shoulders, her breasts hanging over his face. It was heaven. He whispered to her "My Nyota, mine."
"Oh, yes, my Spock. All yours, only yours." And then she was crying out, and he could feel the waves of ecstasy pouring from her as her muscles tightened about him, pulling a deep growl from him as he thrust hard up into her, emptying himself. And then she folded herself down, nestling her face against his neck and he pulled the edge of the duvet up over her as they sank down into sleep.
***
When the fire burned low, he drifted back to awareness. Carefully he rose, with her in his arms and laid her on the bed, going back for the duvet. He spread himself beside her, covering them both up. She sighed and moved closer, sliding one leg over his, one arm over his chest, her face once more against his neck. He was hard again, wanting her, but he would let her sleep. But she was not sleeping, she was biting his neck, working her way up to his ear, licking, biting, teasing, until she reached the pointed tip and bit hard enough that he growled loudly at her, his body reacting instantly. His hands were on her now, hot, urgent, until she managed to grab one and brought it to her mouth. He shuddered at the feel of her tongue on his sensitive fingers. Lust hazed his vision, enflamed his senses, his shields all lowered from the chocolate still in his system. She continued to tease him, driving him further into arousal, until he could no longer stand it. He rolled over her, rising to his knees, pulling her up against him, ramming into her, pulling her back against him, bending over now to bite the nape of her neck. She was sobbing and moaning and bucking beneath him, blazing with his lust. And then he found his rhythm and began to pound against her while she pushed her bottom higher and higher so that he hit the spots inside that made her scream at him, gasping at the intensity of the experience, until she tensed, drawing together, sucking in air, and then exploded, pulling him after her in spasms of ecstasy.
He had barely enough sense to be sure that he was not laying on top of her, and that the duvet was pulled up before he was asleep beside her.
***
In the morning, the quiet knock of the hotelkeeper on their door with their breakfast found them both still asleep. He sat up, groggy. Perhaps she had given him too much chocolate after all. He called out that he would be there in a moment and struggled up, pulling on his pants from yesterday, still laying on the floor in front of the fire. He crossed to the door and flicked off the lock, then stepped back, allowing the hotelkeeper to enter with the tray. Nyota stirred, but did not awaken. The hotelkeeper stepped carefully over the pile of clothing on the floor, set the tray on the table and came back toward him, smiling widely. "It is your honeymoon, yes?"
"Yes, it is."
"Ah, the young love. Good times, monsieur." And he headed out the door and down the hall.
Spock closed and relocked the door. He looked from the bed to the table and back again, and then gave up and crawled back in beside Nyota, curling himself around her and nestling up under the warm duvet. They did not have to be in Dinard until 1900. He could sleep a bit longer.