Um, behold. Smut. Heed the warnings of last chapter.
12.
Amok
Spock's mind prickles like a freshly-formed blister.
The sensation curdles Nyota's skin. When she looks down upon her wrist, she's surprised to see that the epidermis has not crackled and folded in on itself from Spock's heat.
Maresh groans on the floor, green blood smeared on his lip and chin. There is a dark olive ring around his neck where Spock held his throat.
T'Pau calls orders to Varum and S'Harien. She asks for a female healer, a tranquiliser, and three other items Nyota doesn't catch because Spock is brushing his lips against her skin, sniffing her, rubbing his cheek against hers to impart his scent. "This-one needs you now and this-one will have you now, if you are willing," he says. Spock pulls Nyota's uniform collar to the side and bites the exposed skin gently, unsnaps all the buttons of her shirt and slides his hand against the top of her bare stomach, his thumb brushing the underside of her breast.
After months of forced celibacy Nyota had not been sure she had the desire to be touched in this way anymore, had convinced herself that—well, if he didn't want her, she didn't want him either. But she is mad with it, almost as mad as him, engrossed in his kisses and the sensation of his skin against hers.
"Stop, baby, you have to stop," says Nyota. She places her palms on his cheeks. "Focus, Spock. We need to go. We can't do this here, okay?"
He nuzzles his face into her warm hands, trying to press his mind closer to hers. "You do not want this-one?" he asks. "Has this-one driven you away? Has this-one hurt you irrevocably?" He is panting and the burning inside of him crescendos until Nyota can feel it peeling her own insides.
"Baby, baby, it's okay," she says, touching her fingertips to his face to calm him. He runs his hand down her side, grabs her hip, rests his forehead against hers.
"Will you let this-one taste you, at least?" he asks, and drops to his knees. He nuzzles his face into her crotch after lifting her skirt like there aren't people watching. Varum and S'harien and, fuck, Head Mother of the whole goddamn clan T'Pau.
"You are wet and yet you deny this-one?" he asks.
"I'm not denying you," says Nyota. She doesn't think she is. She's not sure if she's saying yes either. Months of the cold shoulder and now what is she supposed to do? Brush it away? Say it's in the past and pretend it never happened? She craves her husband as much as he seems to crave her, but she doesn't believe in simple answers. It cannot be as easy as a kiss and a hard fuck, then suddenly the pain of extended silences melts away.
"This-one will die if he does not have thee soon," he says.
She knows he speaks truth.
Nyota attempts calming him but he seems barely to hear her, his face nuzzled into the crotch of her tights, his teeth tearing at the hosiery.
So Varum comes up from behind and sticks a hypo into Spock's neck.
He cries out and looks so betrayed before he falls to his side, Varum catching him and helping him down.
Nyota holds Spock on the floor, brushing hair off his face and kissing his feverishly hot forehead.
"Granddaughter-by-Marriage, we have little time," says T'Pau. "You are aware of what is occurring?"
Aware is much too generous a word. "This is Spock's—"
"We do not speak of it," says T'Pau.
Nyota stands hesitantly, ready to accept whatever directives T'Pau gives but reluctant to leave Spock's side. This is the most she's touched him and the most he's touched her in half a year and she's loathe to separate herself from him again.
"I have arranged an escort for you," T'Pau says. "She will take you to the unpopulated areas of our family's grounds where a room will be prepared for you. Go and go quickly. Varum and S'harien will bring your husband safely to you."
Nyota is thankful to have a set of instructions, as she'd otherwise have no idea what to do for herself, for her husband.
After a kiss to Spock's cheek warm, she leaves.
The woman escorting Nyota is a young healer named T'Yen. She sits silently next to Nyota in the back of the flitter, hands in her lap. She has dark skin and even darker eyes. Nyota cannot see her hair for the cloth wrapped around it. Dark blue with gold trim. Aside from a brief introduction, she has been silent for the course of their meeting.
"T'Yen?" asks Nyota.
"Correct. Your pronunciation is laudable."
"I meant—may I speak freely with you?" Nyota asks.
"Clarify 'freely,'" says T'Yen.
"Is it alright if we talk about the Time?"
"That is the purpose for my presence," says T'Yen. "What do you wish to know?"
Nyota releases a heavy breath. "Everything. My husband spoke of it before our bond, but only vaguely. An oestrous cycle? I thought it usually hit Vulcans in their fifties or sixties?"
"Indeed, it is similar to the Terran phenomena among certain female mammals of going into heat," T'Yen says. "The mean age of first onset is 56, but V'tosh experience pon farr as early as nineteen in some cases, though this is extremely rare. Discord and emotional strain may cause an early pon farr. For example, after Va'Pak, many described having their Time off of their seven year cycle, and many young people experienced it unexpectedly early."
Nyota takes in the information, synthesising it with what she knows from her husband and other reading materials.
"How long does it last? My husband has been…not quite himself for some time. Meditating in almost all of his free time as if emotionally disturbed. Does that have anything to do with his Time? Coincidence?"
"Possibly. I lack the body of knowledge necessary to determine conclusively. Speed and degree of onset vary significantly from person to person. Some experience being in an excited state only moments before they are deep into plak tow, and others say they have felt compromised emotions for up to a year before, growing in intensity as the Time approaches. Stress can upset the natural rhythms and extend or shorten cycles," says T'Yen.
It's a long shot, maybe, but Nyota feels like she can finally begin putting the pieces of the last several months together. Compromised emotions, added stressors. It makes sense.
"I'm scared," says Nyota.
T'Yen tilts her head questioningly as she considers Nyota's comment. "You must process your fear, explore its origins, reaffirm your logic as a function of managing your emotions, then let go of the fear so you may be at peace."
Great. Thanks.
"I would also have you know that many humans have experienced the Time with their Vulcan mate without ill effect," she says. "Does that reassure you?"
Nyota half nods yes and half shakes her head no. "Will everything we need be there?" she asks, referring to the network of caves to which they are headed.
"Typically, one would pack an overnight bag with fresh clothes, personal items, and toiletries, as the rooms contain only basic amenities. Furniture, fresh linens, a tub. As I said, onset of the Time varies widely and so it benefits one to always be prepared."
Nyota keeps her hands clasped tightly together near her abdomen.
"Servants are preparing the room now, however, with appropriate accommodations," T'Yen continues, "since Osu Spock's Time has come unexpectedly early in his lifespan. You will be able to order food, but there is a basic kitchen stocked with rice and other non-perishable goods should you prefer not to have contact with the outside world. For safety reasons, all personnel in the caves are automated ."
Nyota sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, worrying it with her teeth.
"Will he be violent?"
"Not toward you."
"Will he—will he hurt me?"
"No."
"How can you know that?"
"Because I have experience working as a guide for couples in this capacity. Many Vulcans fear that they will harm their mates but these feelings, like many feelings, are illogical and not supported by empirical evidence. It is likely your mate will be aggressive and forceful in his devotions, crude in his speech, and demanding when it comes to his pleasure and yours, but he will not hurt you; and should something become too much, he will remain cognizant enough to respect your wishes."
It's the most anyone's said about the Time in Nyota's seven years living on New Vulcan.
"I can feel him. God, it's hot. He's growing impatient," she says, as she feels the burn of his body through their link.
"We are three minutes and eleven seconds away from our destination. It is customary for you to arrive first. He will find you by following your scent."
"How long does that usually take?" Nyota asks.
"The caves expand kilometres in depth and length. Sometimes fifteen minutes. Sometimes an hour. I have insufficient data to supply you a definite answer."
Spock is crying out for her through the bond.
"When he is tracking you, you must speak to him through the bond in order to calm him so he does not slip deeper into the madness. The reassurance of your mind will be his only balm during this time."
"Any other last minute tips?" Nyota asks as she feels the flitter descend.
"Though he has lost his logic, he has not lost who he is. Know your boundaries so that he can know them, and therefore respect them."
The flitter juts forward when it hits the ground, and Nyota's stomach turns. She slides out of the vehicle, follows T'Yen forward. Desert surrounds them for miles.
T'Yen shines a flashlight when they enter the caves, which are clean and free of any apparent life forms. The walls of rock have been smoothed. The ground is even and paved. There is the distant sound of water deep underground, but Nyota cannot see it.
As they step farther into the tunnels, dim lights flash on automatically.
"Do not be alarmed by the rustic nature of the locale. You are safe and easily reached should harm befall either of you."
Nyota nods, though she hadn't been disturbed by itin the first place.
"Here we are," says T'Yen and shows Nyota into a small room. There is a large bed made up with sheets and blankets, a table, and a kitchenette with counters and a cooling-unit. "Through there is a bathroom," says T'Yen.
It's large. There's a big tub, a sink, and a stack of towels on a counter. "There's running water here?"
"Yes."
T'Yen shows her back into the main room. "Should you wish to use them on your mate to assuage your fears, there are restraints and other tools in that compartment," she says, pointing to a large, wooden chest.
"Restraints?"
"Shackles, handcuffs, rope."
Deep breath, Nyota.
"He's nearby," she says and squeezes her legs together.
"Then I will depart. The servants placed items of your clothes in the dressers. I will see you in 24-48 hours."
T'Yen slips quietly through the door and is gone.
Anxious to get out of her uniform, Nyota changes into a large t-shirt that goes down to her knees. It's one she'd appropriated from Spock a long time ago. Not particularly enticing, but it will do.
Ashal-veh? she hears in her mind. His voice is cracked and low. Why do you hide from me?
She curls onto the bed and closes her eyes. I am here. Does the odour of my desire not guide you? Shall I pleasure myself whilst I await thee so my scent becomes strong again?"
She hears only a pained growl.
Nyota smiles at her own boldness. She isn't sure if that is what T'Yen had in mind when she said speak to him through the bond—this might make him more mad—but she knows not what else to say. She can't help it. The burning inside him is contagious and she feels it spreading through her. He'd touched her like he loved her again back at her work headquarters and she wants him to touch her like that again.
Do you want me to touch myself? she asks Spock.
Yes.
She squeezes her legs together until she feels a lovely pang of sensation. It's been building since this morning, when she'd woken up to Spock's erection pushing into her ass and had gotten an impression of his dreamscape. That, and the last several months, too.
Are you doing it, Nyota? Are you touching yourself?
She squeezes her legs together again in pulsing rhythm. Yes, beloved. Can thee not smell how wet this-one is?
Dip your finger into your keshtan-ur and then into your mouth so that I might taste you through the bond, he says. His tone leaves no doubt that he expects her to comply.
She rolls onto her back, opens her legs, bends them at the knees. She slides the first two fingers of her right hand into herself, then flicks her tongue against them once she removes them.
More, Nyota. Finger yourself until you are dripping and let me taste you again.
She does so, sending him images of how she plays with herself through their mind-touch.
So wet, Spock, my thighs are sticky.
He is getting closer to her.
She starts to rub her clitoris with the hem of the t-shirt's she's wearing, getting it all wet with her arousal.
Spock, please find me, I need you so much.
You are rubbing yourself with the hem of my old shirt, he says.
Yes, and I'm getting so, so close.
You may not come yet, Nyota.
But she has to. She hasn't done this—touched herself—in ages. It's barely been three minutes and she feels the familiar tingling of nerves in her clit, clustered and ready to erupt.
She needs more, to be filled.
Nyota hops off the bed and jogs to the wooden chest T'Yen had showed her earlier. She opens it, struggling slightly with the unexpectedly heavy weight.
There are shelves and compartments in the chest, and yes, on one of them, just what she needs.
What are you doing, Nyota?
Forgive me, baby.
You will wait for me.
The toy is in her palm, thick, just like she likes it, though it is nothing compared to Spock's girth.
She can't wait. She goes to the bed, lifts up her legs off the bed, pulling her knees back toward her chest, then slides the toy inside herself. It's been so long and she's sore despite how wet she is. She shoves it in hard over and over.
Bad girl, Nyota, says Spock. Your husband is so near to you that he is getting drunk off your scent, and still you cannot wait?
She fucks herself with the toy, imagining its Spock.
So greedy for cock that you cannot wait half a minute.
Nyota rocks her hips into it, mindless.
Are you not ashamed to fuck that thing when your needy husband has been yearning you?
Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, she says as she slams it into herself roughly
Then he is in the room. Nyota doesn't even bother looking up. She knows it's him when she feels the rush of his heat. He removes her hand from the toy, replaces it with his own, and begins to fuck her hard with the dildo, in and out of her tight pussy.
"Tell me what you fantasised about," he says, "and I will not punish you as harshly as I originally intended."
He thrusts the toy deep and fast, his pace merciless as she continues to rub her clit through the fabric of her t-shirt. "Feels so good," she says.
He thrusts the dildo into her harder. "I said tell me what you fantasised about."
"About you punishing me," she says, squeezing her eyes shut as shameful warmth floods her cheeks.
"I know," says Spock, and Nyota doesn't doubt his words. Their minds hover together so closely right now that he can read every unfiltered thought. "You like to be punished, to be reminded of your place."
He withdraws the toy slowly, reinserts it slowly. Pulls it out again. Waits. Puts it in slowly. "Spock, please, Spock," she begs, jutting her hips up to meet the toy as he fucks her agonisingly slow with it.
"How did you fantasise I would punish you?" he asks.
"You know how."
"Do not talk back to me, Nyota. I wish you to speak what you fantasised aloud. Do so now."
She rolls her head back and forth. She tilts her head down so she can see Spock's groin. There's a bulge in his trousers but he has not unzipped them yet, patient fucker.
"I wanted you to," she starts—and she's so close. She can come without the penetration, she just needs to rub her clit faster.
Spock picks up on the thought, grabs her hand and stills it. He takes her by the wrist then brings her fingers to her mouth, sucks them. He closes his eyes, presumably savouring the taste.
He repositions so he can lean over her, his hand still on the dildo, driving it into her so slow she thinks she might die from it. He lowers himself, drags his tongue along her neck and cheek, rubs his cheeks against her face to mark her with his scent. "Did you really expect me to let you come with anything inside you but my lok?" he asks, but keeps the toy buried inside her.
He kisses her, meets her tongue with his own. Nyota can feel him humping his erection into the side of her thigh as he kisses her.
"Tell me how you imagined me punishing you and I will let you come, ashal," he says, voice hoarse. His tongue is back in her mouth shortly, rubbing against hers. Fuck.
"I thought of you fucking me," she says.
"You lie."
Well it's only half a lie.
He removes the dildo from inside her then shoves it back in hard and she gasps at the feel of it. "It is only because I wish you to prepare yourself for the size of my cock that I allow you to keep this 'toy' inside of you. Now tell me the truth, Nyota."
"I thought of you fucking me there," she says, and forces her knees a little closer to her chest so her ass lifts up, and he can see what she's talking about. She closes her eyes, humiliated.
"Say it, Nyota. Where?"
"I thought of you punishing me by fucking me in my asshole," she says.
He groans, his cock still grinding against her thigh through his trousers.
Spock takes out the dildo for the last night and puts three fingers inside instead, curving them just so so he can touch her spot. Her walls tighten and convulse over his fingers and he is seconds away from his first climax—that is all it takes for him to feel satisfied, a few seconds of her cunt hot and wet and tight over the sensitive pads and tips of his fingers, and he is spurting seed inside of his trousers as she starts to come, too, her whole body spasming.
She can feel his mind, electric and stinging, can finally read his thoughts again after months of distance. It is violent, how good he feels to finally be connected with her in this way. The sensation starts in his groin but it blooms outward like a sun. Nyota can feel it in her own body, too. That kind of climax that reaches deep and fills you with prickly warmth.
"Stay, Nyota," Spock says, then slides off the bed. She finally rests her feet back on the bed, her head turned toward him as he moves to the open chest.
Her breathing unsteadies when she sees what he removes. Cuffs. Two long, black cloths.
Are you going to hurt me? Nyota asks, to afraid to speak the words out loud.
"That depends, Nyota; are you going to cease your defiant behaviour and be good?"
There is a bruise of longing between her legs when she hears those words. "What are you going to do to me?"
He ignores her, takes her wrists, and pulls each one back toward the bedpost. He cuffs them there above her head, one on either side, as she lies down. Next, he takes her right ankle, lifts it to her right wrist, and ties them together with the black cloth. He does the same with the left.
She's forced open wide for him, her wet pussy and ass on display.
Spock moves to the foot of the bed and begins to remove his shirt.
His body, as it always has been, is perfect. Perfectly sculptured shoulders and arms. Abdominal muscles that defy reason. He is narrow but defined, and the way his muscles seem to flex now, as he tries to contain himself, make her long to run hard hands over them. The dark hair on his chest has always been a weakness of hers. Something about how animal it looked.
Next, Spock undoes his belt buckle, though leaves the belt in the loops as he undoes the button and zipper.
Nyota makes a whimpering noise as the trousers fall to his knees then to his ankles. He does not take off his briefs. He stares at between her open legs intently as he takes out his cock from the slit in the fabric.
He's hard and pulsing, his lok a shade of deep green, filled with blood. The surface is shining and wet from come.
Spock begins to jack himself off as he watches Nyota tied up. His breaths are heavy. "You look so beautiful ready and wet and open for me like that," he says.
He gets on the bed and comes closer, still jerking himself as he runs his hand down her thigh and she shivers.
"Please," she says, voice trembling. Her bound legs shake. She wants to pull him close to her but she can't with the cuffs over her wrists.
"Please, what?" asks Spock. He's on his knees in front of her, his cock just over her centre.
Touch me. Fuck me. Lick me. Anything.
"Speak," he says.
Droplets of his pre-come fall onto her thighs.
"This-one requires your touch," she says.
She hasn't yet recovered from her first orgasm but all she can feel is a hot, painful hunger gnawing her from the inside.
"This-one knows you require his touch, but this-one is punishing you. Is that not what you wanted? Is that not why you disobeyed? So you could be punished?" asks Spock as he continues jerk himself off, the length of him an inch away from where she wants to be touched most.
"Please," she says and she tries to lift her hips up to make contact with his lok.
He kisses the side of her knee, his stubble scraping her skin. She shivers and jerks her hips up again. "Yes, yes, yes," she says.
Spock kisses a lazy trail of chaste kisses from Nyota's knee to thigh, dragging his teeth hard over the skin, biting lightly.
"I need to mark you, Nyota," he says, suddenly looking up at her.
"Yes, do it, please."
Licking a line from the top of her thigh to her buttocks to the crease of her ass, working his way back to the side of her thigh, he teases her.
His breath shudders as he tastes her skin, then he bites her, softly at first with his front teeth, then harder with his canines and molars, enough to bruise but not break skin.
Nyota cries out and bucks up. He bites her again, a few inches away from the first sight. He licks the skin where it's been wounded. She wants to pull away but she can't with the bindings holding her in place.
She wiggles her hips but she can't move. "Shhh, Nyota," he says, kissing her thigh.
"It hurts," says Nyota, referring to the longing she feels rather than the marks he's made in her skin.
"I know, ashal," he says. He gets close to the apex of her legs. He rubs his lips against the arousal gathered near her perineum. God, he makes her feel so dirty. "Be patient, be good, and I will forgive you for before and give you the touch you so desire."
"Don't you want this-one?" she asks
He makes a sound in the back of his throat like a growl.
"This-one is dripping wet for you and yet you do not take her," says Nyota.
"Nyota," says Spock in warning.
Then she pushes the boundaries more.
"You would leave your wife in want, so another might take her?"
He snarls then plunges his tongue inside her. He licks fervently, his mouth going up to her clit and sucking with his lips before he laps at it with his tongue.
Even bound she has enough leverage to move her hips up and down into his face. "Fuck, yes, Spock, yes," she calls out, driving into his mouth hard, pressing her clit into his thirsty tongue.
She can feel his thoughts through the touch of his fingers where he grabs purchase on her waist.
No other will take her.
No other will taste what is mine.
Keep bucking for me, Nyota.
Taste so good.
Want to lick you til you scream.
Scream for me, Nyota.
Fuck my face, fuck fuck, yes. i
Come in my mouth, come all over my tongue, let me drink you let me taste you, please, please, please.
He's plunging his tongue inside her when she finally gets there, her hips seizing uncontrollably. She's still coming when he pulls his mouth from her, moves up, and shoves himself in so hard, filling her completely, so much that she burns with it.
He stills inside her, his shoulders and biceps flexed, taut and shaking.
"So tight," he says. His voice is unsteady. He begins to move slowly and each thrust feels hot and tingling inside her.
She wants to wrap her arms around his waist and pull his hips into her fast and hard. "Please, please, please, baby," she asks.
"Are you never satisfied, slut?" he asks, reaching up to tear off the restraint holding her left ankle up, then the one holding up her right. Once released, she immediately digs her heels into his back, propelling him faster.
He still moves inside her even as he reaches up with one hand and unclicks the lock on her cuffs, but he hips her wrists bound in one hand as he pumps in and out, growing faster.
Spock's breaths are gasps. His mouth is slightly ajar as he watches her. With his free hand, he pulls up Nyota's shirt, watches her breasts bounce as he pounds in harder and harder.
With their hands so close together now, she can feel every turn and sharp corner of his mind. She wants to meld, but she knows that won't come until later. Spock is patient and precise, and she has no doubt that he's considered carefully all the ways he wants to have her.
She's missed this, missed him. The way their bodies collide anxious for release, the sound of him panting, his firm, reassuring grip over her wrists, the perfect angles of his body. His stubble. The way his hair becomes unkempt when he moves. The way he bites his bottom lip when he's trying not to growl.
It's the slow unwinding of his logic that gets Nyota.
"Look at me," he says.
She opens her eyes. His cheeks are flushed dark green. Dilated pupils make his dark brown irises look black.
Spock leans down for a kiss, ungentle. Warm, soft lips meet hers violently. His tongue caresses her tongue. Nyota bites his lip, and he groans and plunges into her faster, harder, claiming her with his cock.
She bites him again on the lip and it makes him lose control. His grip falters on her wrists and she's able to get them free.
She digs one hand into the back of his neck and the other into his mid-back, scraping hard with her nails.
His eyes flash toward her darkly, accusatory. Why do you continue to rile this-one when already this-one is fucking you? Is this still not enough? Are you so lustful, so slutty, that even as this-one slides in and out of thee, you are in want of more?
She wants him to come. He's holding back, in perfect control even as he moves forcefully and fast inside her, his pelvis bumping over and over again against her clit. But she wants to feel and to see him stripped bare.
Don't want this to end, he says.
You can have me many more times tonight, says Nyota. Is this-one not yours to do with as you please?
He makes a sound quite unlike himself, a short-lived whine.
Then moves his face down to take a nipple into her mouth. The flick of his tongue is lightly, hot. And he knows it's that barely-there touch that Nyota can't take. He was the one who was supposed to come but at the feel of him playing with her nipple so very softly, so in contrast to the way he fucks her pussy, she feels it building inside her again. The head of his penis hits her right where the nerves seem most densely populated, each stroke of his lok a shock of incomparable pleasure. She thrusts her hips up hard to meet his stroke, quickening their pace once again.
She's seconds away from her third release tonight, and Spock toys with her, keeping her on that painful edge.
"Please, baby, let me come," she says.
"Have you not trembled and shaken and convulsed for me twice already?" Spock asks. "Are you so selfish that you won't let this-one take his pleasure in you how he sees fit?"
Do what you want with me, she says, this-one is your little fucktoy.
And her words have the desired effect. His pace quickens and stroke hardens, his lok ramming into her unfettered now, testing the limits of her body.
She squeezes her fingers hard into his back and shoulder, drawing blood, and he locks his teeth into the side of her breast, marking her hard, and she's done. Her body floods with heat and her eyes fill with white light as she quivers, lost in the buzzing sensation that makes her feel so thoroughly sated and fulfilled, a hollow being unhollowed.
"I am going to spill my seed on your chest, Nyota," Spock says, the tightening of her walls and the jerking of her hips bringing him to his own release. Spock pulls out and shoots his ejaculate onto Nyota's breasts, across her nipples, hot spurts against her skin.
Spock's chest heaves as he tries to inhale heavy breaths, and Nyota is still too out of it to recall she is out of breath. Her head rocks from side to side, lost in pleasure.
Spock nuzzles her face. Presses a long, hot kiss against her lips. Then pecks her cheeks and nose. He brushes hair that's damp against her sweaty forehead off her face. "So beautiful, so beautiful, so beautiful," he says, voice quiet. Nyota doesn't think he realises he's speaking the words aloud.
"My Nyota, my Nyota."
Nyota pulls Spock close to her, stroking his hair, and he moves onto his side so they're front to front. She tucks her head into the crook under his chin, rubs her fingers through the dark hair on his abdomen.
Spock is hard again, but he makes no move to relieve it.
Nyota reaches her hand down and grabs it but he moves her hand away. "Are you sure?" she asks. "I can keep going."
And the part she doesn't say out loud but he hears anyway: I want to be enough for you.
"At present, this-one is content to lie with thee," Spock says.
Nyota is content to lie with him, too. Content to be near him and to finally be able to touch him and let her mind be free with him.
She's spent the last half year thinking he was done with her. That there was a part of him he kept secret because he no longer wished to share his mind with her.
There's a fear that once his Time ends, he will come back to his senses and reject her again.
Spock kisses the top of her head. "Nyota," he says, reaching for her hand. They clasp fingers tightly.
"I'm going to get a drink, okay?" she says.
He gets up to follow her when she stands, rubs her shoulders as she fills a cup with water from a glass pitcher. She gulps it down.
"I have exhausted you," he says, kissing the back of her neck. Spock drops to his knees, pushes his face against her lower back and bare ass, lays kisses on them, then onto the back of her thighs. "Would you hate me if I said I desired to have thee again, now?"
Nyota relaxes into the feel of Spock's lips. She shivers. "How do you want this-one?" she asks.
"Bent over. Compliant. Wet," he says. "Stand against the wall."
Nyota turns her head back over her shoulder to look down on Spock, still on his knees behind her. "And if I do not?"
"You would disobey your husband so brazenly?"
"Yes," she says, then darts away from him toward the bathroom.
Because he's on his knees, she gets the jump on him. Nyota's still not fast enough. Spock reaches out and grabs her by the calf. Tripping, she catches herself with her palms.
"You pretend not to want this-one even as he smells your fresh want?" Spock asks, grip firm on her leg. He pulls her toward him and she gasps. "Why does it please you to taunt me thus?"
"This-one doesn't mean to tease," Nyota says, but her light tone belies the truth.
Spock grabs her by the waist and pulls her up so that she's on her knees and forearms. His hard cock touches her ass. It twitches as it grows harder,
Fuck. Yes.
Yes, what, Nyota?
Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please, she says through the link, too lost in need to speak verbally.
Tell me you want my cock. Say it out loud, says Spock.
"Want your cock," she says. "Need it inside me. Need you to fuck me with it."
She pushes the front half of her body lower down, her head touching her forearms. She arches her back, lifting her cunt closer to Spock, so he can enter her from behind. The rug provides minimal cushion, and her knees hurt, but it's nothing like the ache between her legs.
Promise you will be good for me—that you will obey me—and I will give my slut what she desires.
"I'll be good," she says, panting as he begins to place the head of his lok near her entrance, teasing her.
"You will obey me?"
"I want you to do anything you want to me," she says, embarrassed that she means it. She's been with Spock for more than a decade, and she's long known she has little limits when it comes to what they share in the bed.
"How did you get so wanton, Nyota?" asks Spock, finally pushing himself into her.
He moans. It is short-lived in low in tone but Nyota knows she hears it, that soft-spoken uhn in the back of his throat.
So tight, so tight, so tight, he says. I want to fuck you until you are so spent you fall asleep in my arms, your body sticky with my come and smelling of my semen. Would you like that?
Yes, Spock, yes, says Nyota.
This time I will fill you with my seed when I ejaculate.
Yes, yes, shoot it deep inside of me.
You want my come, Nyota?
Shit, yes, please, yes.
Do you like the feel of it inside of you, hot and dripping?
God, yes.
Tell me how much you want it, he says, pumping himself into her harder now, one hand on her waist, the other reaching around to squeeze her right breast.
I want to come so hard that my cunt pulses and the tight feel of it makes you come and you make that sound you make like you're roaring and you spray your semen into me in four or five hot spurts.
She can hear his breaths grow both shorter and louder.
It gratifies me when you speak in such a manner, says Spock. It pleases me when you reveal to me your true nature. What would thy mother think of thee, Nyota? To know how much time thee spends craving this-one's lok? You push yourself back into me desperate for release, hungry for my semen. Perhaps I should take you now back to the Central Estate, so I might have you in front of all my kinsmen. They will know truly the depth of your desire for this-one. They will know that thee are mine. That only I can make you beg and moan.
Her climax hits her sharply. Pleasure washes over her body in escalating waves of, and she is gone completely
Spock leans down to bite her shoulder blade, so hard that Nyota screams and orgasms again. He spends himself inside her like he said he would.
One more time, Nyota, please. He lays onto the floor on his back. Ride my lok so that I may see thee fully?
Body still trembling in ecstasy, she straddles Spock's waist.
She takes off the shirt she still has on. Spock immediately reaches up to touch her breasts, rolling his thumbs over her nipples, licking his lips because he wants to take them into his mouth.
"Touch them for me," he says, this time speaking out loud.
Nyota knows he means her breasts. She begins to massage them as she sits on top of him, her groin right under his length. Hard as if he'd not just emptied his cock into her.
"So, so beautiful," says Spock. His voice wavers, unsteady.
Nyota shifts one of her hands to Spock's lok. Wrapping her fist around his erection. It is hot and green, especially at the head, and big, so much so that her heart still speeds up when she sees it, all these years into their bond. She wants to taste it. To wrap her lips around and taste his salty pre-come and make him rock himself into her mouth.
Spock groans as he reads her thoughts, and she continues to stimulate him with her hand, rubbing slowly and teasingly, marvelling at his thickness and length. No longer able to take it, she removes her hand and positions herself over him, lowering herself slowly over him, letting his lok spread her open til he's snug inside.
She moves herself gently at first. Short, shallow strokes. Once she has her rhythm, she begins to play with herself again, one hand on her nipple, brushing it lightly with her fingers, and the other on her clitoris, rubbing slow circles because she can't take much else right now. Spock steadies her hips, eyes flashing from his cock entering her pussy, her hand getting herself off, and her breasts, then up to her lips, and finally resting on her eyes.
As the hole builds inside her again, that bottomless want in her centre that makes her crave release, she begins to move faster, lifting herself so she's almost off Spock's lok completely, then ramming back down onto it hard.
Yes, Nyota, ride me.
She moves her hips up and down fast on top of him, tits bouncing. Her moans drown out Spock's laboured breathing.
"Need you so bad," she says and moves both of her hands to rest on the sides of his shoulders so she can have more control.
Spock pulls down and up, moving her faster than she's able to by herself. His thoughts slur together. Shemakesmefeelsogood Thisonedoesnotdeserveher Thisonedoesnotdeservethepleasureshebringsme
"Come for me, baby," she says. "Come for me so I can feel your semen inside me again."
"Nyota," calls Spock, then squeezes his eyes shut, lets his mouth fall ajar. His hips judder beneath her as he finishes himself off inside her pussy, then she collapses on top of him so he can hold her.
He rubs her back with the tips of his fingers, sending sparks of pleasure through her. Through his touch, Nyota feels his conflicting feelings. His desire to have her yet again, right now, no matter how spent she is. Did she not say she would allow me to do with her what I pleased? Is she not mine? Spock could continue to use her body throughout the night. Nyota need not be an active participant…
Then there is the other side of his feelings. Shame that he would consider abusing her thus, and a need to protect her safety and well-being.
Still on top of him, she draws her hand up to his face in order to touch his cheek. The heat of his mind hovers so close when she does that, and she cannot wait to finally meld. She knows that once they do she'll be fully absorbed in consciousness into his Time, her desire as thick and all encompassing as his.
"I am conflicted, Nyota," says Spock.
"I know," she says.
"Tell me what course of action to take."
"This-one has already said you may have her totally and completely."
"I do not wish to hurt thee," he says, then adds on through the bond-link, as I have already hurt thee so thoroughly with my secrecy and distance.
And yet you are still hiding from me, she says. Holding back. Afraid to reveal the uglier parts of yourself to me even as madness Nyota rolls from on top of him, but he pulls her back toward him, his front to her back now. He reaches a hand around and moves it in a trail from her breasts to the hair over her mound, around her clitoris, to the edges of her opening.
"You smell thoroughly of me. It is pleasing,"he says. "I will have you again now, Nyota." He buries his face into the crook of her neck and nibbles the skin.
He enters into her from behind as they each lay on their sides. Because Spock can feel the tenderness inside her, his movements are slow and methodical. They begin that way, at least. With my semen still inside of you, you are so slick, Nyota. She shivers not from pleasure necessarily but the way he seems to possess and claim her.
Forgive me for hurting thee, he says, as his strokes grow faster, but she does not hurt yet. Spock feeds her his pleasure through the touch of his fingers, pushes the pleasure he gets from sliding in and out of her hot, wet, and wanting body over to her, so she may see how much she fulfils him.
Once finished, Spock has her again against the wall, and then another time as he holds her. She rests her head on his shoulder and wraps her legs around his waist as he shifts her up and down on his lok.
It is after that time that he carries her to the bathroom. He draws hot, hot bath water for her and lays her into the tub. It's wonderful, and Nyota can already feel herself reviving.
As much as this thought seems to please Spock, he lets her knows that she requires rest, and as his mate, he must make sure her requirements are met.
He pours liquid castile soap onto a wet wash cloth and starts with Nyota's neck, scrubbing her skin gently. He does her arms, under her arms, and her breasts, before telling her to stand up with her legs spread. Tired and wobbly, she needs his help to complete the task, and she leans on him as she stands. He moves the soapy wash cloth over her belly and back, going in slow, gentle circles. Afterwards, he tells her to turn around so he can do her ass. He washes both of her buttocks and in between, and massages her hole with his finger, still covered by the slick cloth. He inserts inside and moves it, and Nyota stiffens and clenches despite how good it feels. It's such an intense feeling, and it puts her whole body on alert.
"Relax, my Nyota," he says, sliding his finger in and out. She leans her weight more heavily onto him so she does not fall, bowled over by sensation. Nyota pushes herself into his touch.
"Spock," she says, her tone high-pitched and begging.
"Shhhh," he says and removes his finger from her. Nyota whines at the sudden loss of pressure. Spock rubs his first and second fingers with water, more soap, and bath oil. "Sit on the edge of the tub, Nyota," he says, and helps her to position herself. Her legs straddle each side of the wide ledge of the tub, one foot in the tub, one out, on the bathroom. Spock leans her forward until her head rests on her arms, which rest on the tub ledge.
When she's properly bent over, he slides his two oil-slick fingers into her ass and begins to work them in and out.
She wishes it didn't feel so good, so she could have some dignity about the whole thing, but it's not long before she's fucking Spock's fingers.
Such a good slut, he says. How can I resist you when you behave thus?
As Nyota rocks back and forth into Spock's fingers her clit rubs against the bath tub edge, and she's getting herself off from both directions.
"Are you going to come for me?" he asks. "With my fingers inside your tight asshole?"
Nyota can feel Spock's ecstasy as the tight walls of her ass clamp down on his sensitive fingers.
He sits straddled on the ledge behind her, and she knows he's rubbing his cock with his free hand. Can feel the sensations of it in her own groin.
When she comes, he does, too, his come spraying onto her buttocks, his fingers still inside her.
It's one of the best orgasms of Nyota's life, made better by how wicked she finds it all, grinding herself against a tub as her husband fucks her ass with his fingers—those fingers that won't even touch a stranger's hand.
"I do not know why I bother to clean you when you insist on behaving so dirtily," says Spock, but he helps her back into the tub to resume his ministrations, cleaning off his semen from her back, washing between her thighs. He funnels the water through the shower head so he can spray her off once he's scrubbed every inch of her.
After the water is finished draining Spock helps her to sit back down in the tub so she can rest her back against the porcelain wall.
Spock coaxes Nyota's legs up and open as he lets the warm flow of water from the showerhead fall between her thighs, increasing the pressure until she can take it no longer and comes again, convulsing in the empty bath tub, her legs bent at the knee and pulled toward her chest.
Spock carries her to the bed and pulls the sheet over her naked body. He is only semi-erect now as he fixes them both a meal of stir-fried noodles in the kitchenette. He is silent and single-minded. There is no small-talk between them. They eat together in the bed, and when Nyota falls asleep at around two o'clock in the morning, she hears him clean the dishes then shower.
Two hours later he nudges her wake, begging her, "Please, please, I need you again."
She nods her head and half-asleep lets him fuck her.
Nyota awakens more when she feels his tongue inside her, lapping ravenously at her clit. After he seems to have sated his hunger there, he licks downward slowly, over her labia, down her perineum, to the crease of her ass and then to the hole and it's like, fuck, he has never that before and Nyota is actually shaking it feels so good.
"Spock," she says, almost about to add, you don't have to do this, but she knows that he wants to. He licks her hole with the same vigour he applied to her clit. He fingers her vagina as he eats her out, and when she climaxes for the—she's lost count how many times she's come tonight—he lifts up and starts fucking her again. One leg wraps around his waist whilst the other he holds up in the air by the ankle with his hand, jutting his cock in and out of her hard until he releases himself.
He lifts her onto the kitchen counter and has her there.
Then lays her back onto the table and has her there.
The marks he leaves on her grow more numerous with each passing hour and by morning, she is covered with his teeth marks.
Spock bathes her again—but only after first having her in the tub. He sits down in it and has her straddle his cock, her breasts pressed into his chest as he moves her up and down on his lok.
There are periods of sleep but they are short-lived. An hour there. Two hours there. Sometimes, after only thirty-minutes of rest, she wakes up to Spock nuzzling her stomach with his face, asking if she would be amenable to him fucking her again.
He makes sure she eats and drinks water, rubs her skin with dermal regenerator, including that most sensitive flesh between her legs and inside her.
When she can no longer take his cock in her cunt, he fucks her mouth. He has her lie back on the bed and he puts a knee on each side of her face then presses the head of his lok between her lips.
It feels. So. Good.
It is becoming harder to tell the difference between what she is feeling and what Spock is feeling. She gets wrapped into his need and the pleasure he derives from being with her.
They meld finally and it is like being reborn, the past washed away and filled in with those secrets parts of each other only they two know. All of his shame and guilt washes away as she takes it on as her own because in experiencing it, she understands him completely and can therefore absolve him. In turn, any doubt she might have had about his love for her disappears into the engulfing warmth of his affection, devotion, and care.
She understands his jealousy, how rooted it is in his own self-loathing, scars from childhood that have not yet faded. He believes that he is neither Vulcan nor man enough for Nyota, and sometimes he pushes her away to This year, with all its changes and myriad pains, has compounded his insecurities.
Nyota sees that he's been staving off his Time for months by sheer force of will. He'd feared subconsciously that his pon farr would be worse than other Vulcans because of his lapsing control over the course of the year, not realising that his lapsing control was a direct result of the hormonal imbalances his Time brought.
It is a confusing blur of thoughts and impulses that he cannot pull together. Fear of losing Nyota. Fear of failing his daughters. The epiphany when he read Spock Prime's letter that he would soon have to confront a life without Nyota because he would likely far outlive her. And unlike Spock Prime, there would be no other Nyota awaiting him another universe even to look upon.
Instantly, their thoughts and emotions and experiences transfer to one another and they exist in complete harmony as Spock's fingers press into Nyota's cheeks as he makes love to her hard and long, their bodies intertwined in beautiful rhythm as each tries to stave off release.
The meld holds even after Spock moves his hand from Nyota's face.
Naked, mad with lust, sticky, they grind their bodies into each other, their tongues sliding against each other as they kiss.
Spock gives in first, his body racking with the climax when he can no longer endure the sounds of Nyota's breathy moans. As he pulses inside her, Nyota gives in, as well, and through the meld, they experiences each other's mutual pleasure seemingly infinitely until they both collapse in sleep.
It is not the last time they fuck and meld whilst there, but Spock's madness eases. He devotes himself to her pleasure and comfort: cleaning her, washing her hair, preparing her supper, forcing her to sleep.
When she awakes the next day—her second morning in the caves—Spock appears to be himself. He meditates in the corner with a borrowed asenoi from the room, dressed in a pair of loose-fitting trousers.
Nyota stretches but she feels limber all things considered. Nothing too sore. The hypos in bathroom medicine closet assured that.
She goes to check herself in the mirror. Spock used the dermal regenerator on most of the marks he made, but he'd left a few. One on her collarbone. One on the side of her breast. One on her hip.
Nyota brushes her teeth, splashes water on her face. Spock's sense of inner calm spreads to her via their bond, and she lets herself ride the wave of tranquillity. Such a change of pace from yesterday and the night before that. All she'd felt from Spock then was hunger, disquiet, driving need, and burning.
"Wife, I have prepared breakfast," he says. Nyota tosses her hair into a ponytail then heads out of the bathroom. "A porridge of nutrient dense wild millet. I have added sugar, sweet spices, and canned milk, as is your preference."
She kisses him on the cheek and takes a seat at the table. "Thank you," she says.
"I am gratified to provide for you," says Spock, taking a seat right next to her, scooting his chair closer. He has a bowl of porridge, too, but his is adorned only with nut butter he must have found in the cabinets. "Is this proximity acceptable?" he asks.
She smiles. "Very."
They eat their porridge together quietly. When they are finished, Spock sets them by the sink. He is beginning to wash them, his back to her, when he starts to ask a question. She can feel it in her mind before he speaks the words. "Nyota?"
"Mm?"
She's still a bit groggy, and even though she hasn't been up but half an hour, she could collapse back into bed—though preferably her own bed.
"I must apologise to you for my actions," he says.
Nyota grabs a cloth from the counter and wipes down the kitchen table. "I'm fine, Spock," she says.
"Because you are resilient, perhaps you are; still, I offer to you my regrets. I played a pivotal part in our marital discord, and I wish to make amends in any way that I am able."
"It wasn't just you, Spock. I should've—I could've been more understanding. I should've known. I was too caught up in my own shit at work."
"Nyota?"
"Yes."
"Did you ever plan to tell me that Maresh had acted toward you in a violating and unprofessional manner?"
Nyota leans back into the kitchen counter. "I don't know. Part of me of didn't think you'd care. Another part of me was just excited to be…desired by someone again. Part of me thought it was all in my head. Sometimes I still feel like such a stranger here despite everything. You and I had grown so distant that I started questioning my ability to read any situation right at all."
"My behaviour was so callous that you truly thought I might not care?" he asks.
Nyota walks toward him, embraces him from the side. "I was not exactly thinking clearly, okay, baby? We weren't talking. I didn't know what to think about anything. Selik got sick and then new job and that goddamn letter that freaked me the fuck out. It was the first time I'd ever seen you deliberately hide something from me. I thought—was that letter even from the other Spock? Or was that a codename for, I don't know, another woman you were seeing," she says, her head rested onto the side of his shoulder. He turns toward her and folds her into his arms.
"I didn't know what to think when you pulled your mind away from me like that. And to do it for months. You were angry at me all the time. It wasn't until the other night that I really had an inkling that you were jealous. What is it you said? You asked me if I thought Maresh would let Selik go on her kahs-wan," says Nyota.
Spock kisses Nyota's forehead. "I was foolish, ashal-veh." He squeezes her into his grasp more tightly. "Maresh sensed there was something amiss between us and that was my doing. He never would have taken liberties with you in that way had he not. I should have protected you."
"Spock. Truly. It's okay. Barely anything happened."
"It is not 'okay.'"
"Well, it will be okay then. We're going to get through this. We're talking now, right? That's step one."
"What are the subsequent steps?" asks Spock.
Ever pragmatic.
"Maybe seek some outside help? Spend some time to ourselves? Take time off work? I don't know. I hadn't really thought about the other steps. I just know that the most important thing is that we're talking," she says as she stands in his arms, her head rested on his chest.
"I am committed to doing whatever is necessary to repair us," he says. After a moment, he speaks again, kissing the top curve of her ear as he does so. "I am also relieved that you appear to be well." He nuzzles his face into her cheek and nibbles her earlobe.
"What do you mean?" she asks.
"I mean that I was quite forceful in my attentions to you. I am pleased that I did not hurt you."
She smiles, steps away so that she can see his face as she tells him this. "You didn't hurt me at all. You made me feel good. So good."
He takes her chin in his hand, leans in slowly and kisses her lips, first a peck, then a nibble. I lack the eloquence necessary to express in words how thoroughly and completely you pleased me, ashal-veh, he tells her through touch.
"I'm anxious to return home," she says. "I miss the girls. God, I wonder what T'Pau told them."
"I, too, wish to return the compound. I wonder if Selik has yet forgiven me for forbidding she go on her kahs-wan, though I know it is illogical to speculate on her condition and I will find out soon enough."
Nyota gives Spock one last kiss on the lips. "You're a good father. We're going to figure this all out, I promise."
Spock makes a call to an attendant or servant, or perhaps T'Pau herself.
Whoever he calls, it's Varum who picks them up.
He looks more mussed than usual, his fringe not so perfectly trimmed, a hint of dreariness in his eyes. "Nam-tor du vik?" she asks, inquiring if he is will.
"I am…" and she notes the slight hesitation, "adequate. I have had the honour of acting as Amayel and Selik's personal body guard over the past two days."
Oh, hell. Poor thing.
"Did they treat you favourably?" asks Spock.
"Indeed, they did. They do, however, require much direct supervision; and they do not sleep as much as they are required to, which I do not see the logic in. I am pleased to inform you that they were gracious in practising Standard with me. Last night we attended a banquet with Honoured Mother T'Pau and they—well, are you aware that Selik has a particularly dedicated suitor? They frequently tried to elude my watch but I assure you I kept steady protection," says Varum. He controls the flitter by hand rather than relying on the autopilot.
He sounds intensely proud but exhausted in every way by his extended time with the twins.
Talk of Amayel and Selik makes Nyota more anxious to return home, and she's glad it appears to be a short drive.
She is on the way home, her adun next to her, and it could not feel more good.