"You are really responsive," Tom mumbles, wrapping his arms around me.
"Told you." I try to brag, but it comes out more like a moan.
"I just want to go down on you forever."
"I think we'd miss out on whole lot of other stuff."
He leans back a little, playing with my hair tenderly. "If you understood how incredible you look while I'm doing it, you'd get why the rest of it doesn't seem to matter." I lift my eyebrow at him dubiously but he just shrugs. "It's true. I just want to make you feel like that forever. You were so…you're just…you're completely gorgeous."
I wiggle my hips against his, trying to distract him. Getting compliments about my looks has never been my strong suit and for some reason, hearing those words thrown at me while naked and in a post-orgasmic haze makes me feel even more vulnerable. I slide my hand in between us and grasp his erection. His eyes slam shut and he breathes out roughly through his nose. I lift my head a little and kiss his neck, his quiet moans reverberating through my lips. I let go of him long enough to flip him onto his back, feeling smug that I finally managed to get my wits together to get the upper hand. I straddle his thighs and take him in hand again, stroking gently. A fine sheen of sweat appears across his entire body. I release him and slide my hands up his chest, tugging at the fine, blond hairs just hard enough to make him hiss. He grabs my thighs and I start to rock against him, my head falling back at the sensation. Everything feels amazing. How is that possible? How can every single touch make me feel like I'm melting? How can just rubbing against each other feel better than sex with others? It's ridiculous. It's insane. It's impossible.
…It's love.
That's the only explanation I can think of. I love him, and it seems to be heightening every sensation.
I push against him harder, faster, and his fingers dig into my legs, encouraging me to continue. I feel another orgasm start to build. I lift my head and find him staring at me, his face strained. Red infuses his cheeks, his neck, and, to my utter fascination, spreads down to his chest. "I love you," he mouths, and it almost does me in. Shivers race up and down my spine. I push against him harder, faster, not sure which one of us is making the most noise at this point. I don't even care.
His fingers dig into my hips suddenly, stilling all movement. I glare at him, panting, but he just shakes his head. "Not like this," he gasps.
I pause for a few moments before I nod, sliding off his hips and down between his legs. "Your turn," I breathe just before I run my tongue up his length.
"B'Elanna," he pleads, his entire body jerking, but I ignore him. I move my tongue over him slowly, keeping my eyes on his face. He looks close to being in pain, but that's probably just the strain from holding back. I lift my head a little and take him slowly in my mouth, moaning at the feel. I still ache. I still desperately want—no, need, another orgasm—but he's been so attentive toward me that I just want to return the favor.
I prop myself up on one hand, wrapping the other around him to cover what my mouth can't reach. I want to go at him with everything I've got, but I know that this would be over much too quickly that way. There's time for that later. I force myself to go slow, to savor him and the way he feels. It's not easy, though. Everything about him feels incredible. The heat of his skin, how soft he is despite being so hard at the same time, the scent, the way he feels in my mouth…if it were possible, I would do this for hours.
I moan and he shudders in response, his hips jerking a little. I slide my hand down to the base of him, squeezing just a little. I look up at him even as I keep moving my head, my tongue, and he manages to gasp out, "Thanks," and I know I managed to buy him some more time. I continue to watch his face as I work, and I understand what he meant earlier when he said that watching me was fascinating. Everything about him right now—the sweat, the muscles contracting and releasing, his eyes tightly screwed shut, his mouth open as he makes soft, happy noises—is completely beautiful. The only disappointing part is that human males don't recover from sex very quickly, at least not past a certain age. Then again, Klingon males aren't known for their recovery time, either.
I feel him push at my shoulder for a minute but I'm too lost in the sensation of him to pay much attention. A moment later, I'm flying through the air, landing on my back somewhere on the bed. I blink up at Tom in surprise as he leans over me, panting heavily. I reach for him but he manages to grab both of my wrists in one hand, pinning my arms over my head. I can't help but be impressed that he's tossing me around like a ragdoll.
"I'm not finished with you yet," he growls, leaning down to kiss me. Our tongues clash together, fighting for dominance, and his free hand slides roughly up and down my body. I struggle to free my arms but he holds firm, not letting me go anywhere. I'm pretty sure I could push him over if I really wanted to but…I don't think I really want to just yet. The sensation of not being able to use my arms is fascinating and a little exhilarating. I arch my body up to him, trying to direct his ministrations, but he ignores me. He grabs at my breast, kneading the flesh roughly, and I gasp into his mouth, squirming. He slides to my other breast, pinching my nipple between his fingers before he tugs at it, and all I can do is moan.
He moves his hand again, skimming it quickly down my stomach, and even though I can guess what he's planning to do, I nearly bite his tongue off when I feel his fingers slide into me again. He kisses me harder in response, thrusting his hand in and out of me. I press myself as closely to him as I can—he still has my arms trapped over my head—as I gasp and moan into his mouth.
"Oh, God, Tom." I rip my mouth from his, crying out. My entire body tenses up. He is good at this. How the hell did he ever manage to stay single for any length of time? "Ohhhhhhh."
He tilts his head down and takes one my nipples in his mouth, sucking hard. I strain my arms against his grasp, trying to break free. Honestly, though, I don't know how much effort I put into it. I just know that he doesn't seem to have a lot of trouble holding onto me right now. I brace one foot on the bed, pushing my hips against his hand as fast as I can. "Right there," I tell him, my voice almost unrecognizable. "Right there, right there TOMMMMMMMM!" An orgasm rushes through me, intense and almost paralyzing. My entire body locks into position as wave after wave of pleasure hits me. His hand keeps moving though, coaxing more and more from me, and my body doesn't fail to respond. Not being able to use my hands heightens everything. For a few seconds, I feel like I'm actually dying before my body starts to cooperate again and thrust against him wildly. I'm still yelling and moaning, though I'm not sure exactly what I'm saying.
His mouth pulls at my nipple a few more times as his hand leaves my body. I'm still convulsing a little, the orgasm having not quite abated, and he starts kissing me frantically. First on my mouth, though he doesn't seem able to stay there long before he presses his lips to any bit of skin he can find, finally releasing my arms. I reach out to hold onto him but he slides away from me and off the bed completely. I lift my head in confusion, and he grabs the backs of my knees, yanking me to the edge of the bed.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh," I groan as his mouth finds me again, his tongue swiping over me, and my head falls back. I'm not nearly as sensitive as I was the first time he did this just a little while ago, but that doesn't mean this will take long. I've found that, once I have a couple of orgasms, it can be ridiculously easy for me to have more. And with someone like Tom, someone who clearly knows what he's doing and does it enthusiastically, this night is well on its way to being ridiculous.
I clutch at the bedspread beneath me, my legs curling up. He wraps one of his arms around my thigh, holding it in place, and the other hand slides up my body, grabbing onto my breast. I manage to relax my grip enough to stroke that hand with my own, needing a little bit of contact. His fingers pause for a moment, squeezing mine, and that one tiny gesture almost makes me melt completely. I glance down to find him looking at me, his blue eyes twinkling, crinkled at the edges. A moment later, I'm spinning out of control again. His eyes completely did me in. My body shakes violently as I spasm, quivering against his face. I feel him kiss me softly, almost reverently, and I expect him to climb back up me.
His hand releases my breast and I reach for him, my breathing still heavy, but he ignores me. Still poised on his knees next to the bed, his fingers find their way between my legs, stroking me gently. I can feel his hot breath on me and I thrust forward, trying to make contact with anything as I realize the after effects of this latest orgasm are still washing over me.
"Tom," I moan, my voice embarrassingly weak.
He just shakes his head. "I'm still not done with you."
I tremble from head to toe. "More?"
"As long as you can take it. Want me to keep going?"
*A/N…Thanks for the moral support, guys, in regards to the horrible Cheet-O who will allegedly become our president. I plan on personally responding to you guys, too, as soon as time permits.
Also, I apologize that this one is shorter than others, but it seemed like a good stopping place.
