I moan and drop back against the bed, arching my back. He accepts the invitation and buries his head between my thighs again, his fingers slipping into me. It's borderline too much, but I never want it to stop. I brace my feet on his shoulders and I feel him groan, the vibrations making my entire body tingle. I've never been the center of someone's attention like this before. Sex has never been like this before. He's so into it. His only goal seems to be to make me orgasm. He seems wholly unconcerned with his situation. At this point, it makes every other sexual encounter I've had pale in comparison. Maybe I'll feel differently once I don't have as many endorphins running through me, but I doubt it. He's putting off his own satisfaction for me.
I glance down at him again, but this time his eyes are closed, his expression blissful as he continues his ministrations. Maybe he's getting satisfaction out of this. He's certainly spending all that time down there voluntarily.
I try to distract myself, but I know it's a losing battle. I try to think about plasma relays and warp particles, but my brain won't cooperate. No matter what, it all comes back to Tom and what he's doing to me. To what he's making me feel.
His teeth scrape against me just a little and I almost fly off the bed. I grip onto the bedspread again, my knuckles turning white from the strain. I sit up a little, trying to watch him. His eyes open and he stares at me. I can feel his fingers thrusting into me, faster and faster. His mouth and tongue move swiftly, finding the spots that need attention and happily lavishing them. I can see my stomach muscles jumping beneath my skin. His teeth scrape me again and I actually scream, thrusting and convulsing. My legs cross over his shoulders, locking him into position. I fly into a sitting position and grab the back of his neck, holding him in place. A tiny part of my brain hopes that I'm not suffocating him, mostly because that would mean he'd have to stop this, but I don't feel him try to pull away. Actually, his arm unravels from my thigh and wraps about my back, pulling me closer. I haven't been able to stop convulsing or crying out. His mouth and fingers haven't stopped moving. I think my head is going to explode. Finally, he backs off just a little and my body slumps as I pant. He kisses my inner thigh before nuzzling me with his nose, making me shudder from head to toe. I run my fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp as gently as I can manage. "Going for a record?" I manage to ask, my voice low and throaty.
He chuckles and I tighten my grip on him, shivering. "Maybe," he answers, his tongue flicking at me a couple of times. My head falls back as I moan. His fingers shift within me and I feel like it wouldn't take much more than this for me to explode again. "How many have you had?"
"No clue." I bite my lip, trying not to moan. "Didn't keep count."
He tilts his head, considering me, and I can't begin to guess what he might be thinking. "Another?"
"Think you can manage it?" I tease, both us well aware at this point of his affect on me.
"Let's give it a whirl, shall we?" With that, his mouth starts attacking me again. I cry out, holding his head to me once more, and suddenly I'm not entirely sure if the last orgasm ever really stopped. He pulls at me a little until I'm almost hanging off the bed entirely, but it gives him more room to play. He slows down, his tongue taking long, delicious passes over me, and my toes curl in response. We stare at each other as he works, intensifying every sensation. I can actually see his tongue come out and flick at me, and my body jerks in response every time. He pushes against my grip just a little, backing away from me a few inches. I moan in disappointment as he pulls his fingers out of me, but my eyes grow wide just a moment later as he slowly sticks them in his mouth. His eyes close for a few seconds as he looks like he actually savors the moment. I have no idea what to do with myself. My body reacts painfully—for reasons I can't explain, that was insanely erotic. I tug at his arms and he takes the hint, stretching up to meet me for a kiss. This time, the taste of myself in his mouth is intense and powerful, and mixed with his own flavor, I feel almost done in. The hand that's been working its magic on me all this time wraps around my back, holding me tight. The other one, however, snakes down between my thighs. His touch is feather-light and drives me completely wild.
"I don't think I'm going to make it through the night," I whisper, biting my lip as a tremor rips through me. Immediately, I realize that's not something I should say to the guy I'm fooling around with, no matter how much I love him. I can practically see his ego swelling. I suppose there are worse things than letting a man know he's good in bed, but Tom has a tendency to strut around when he's right about something, or when he knows he's the best. Then again, maybe he'll behave differently with me and what we do behind closed doors. I can only hope. I can also only hope that he doesn't walk around the ship tomorrow with huge grin on his face. Nothing like advertising that you just got laid. Either way, what I said was the truth. My entire body feels like it's on fire and that I'm moments from actually combusting. But, if I die tonight…well, what a way to go.
I'm snapped from my thoughts as my body shivers again and my eyes fall shut. He ducks his head back down and I gasp as his tongue swipes at me urgently. I grab at the blanket beneath me, reluctant to yank at his head yet again—the last thing I want to do is truly injure him. My back arches and my pelvis thrusts forward, eager for more of his touch. I force my eyes open and do my best to watch him. It's almost overwhelming. The visual aspect of sex isn't something I've thought about much before. It doesn't bother me, but I've never considered it an enhancement to the event. I may have to rethink that particular position, though. The added visuals are bringing me to the edge faster than I would have thought.
He lightens his touch, his tongue so gentle that it nearly tickles, and I throw my head back, laughing lightly. Nothing I've ever experienced has felt this good. He tightens his grip around my waist and pulls, dragging my hips completely off the bed. I dig my feet into the carpet and grab onto the edge of the mattress to keep myself from falling. Tom doesn't seem fazed—he just leans back a little, his mouth and fingers never missing a beat. My thighs start to shake, trembling visibly beneath my skin, and I'm not sure if it's from trying to keep myself from falling or if it's just a reaction from the intensity of it all. He tugs again and I slide even further off the bed, holding on by only my shoulder blades for a few seconds before I drop to the floor. We fumble for a few moments, our bodies tangled, before Tom sprawls out on the ground, tugging me up his body. My knees are pressed to the deck next to his head and I let out a loud moan as his mouth finds me again. I collapse forward, bracing my elbows on the floor as I pant and gasp. My head swirls, cloudy with pleasure. I look down at Tom again, but his eyes are still closed, his brow furrowed in concentration. Vaguely, I notice that my thighs are still shaking visibly, and for some reason, it's completely fascinating.
I push myself up, sitting upright for a few moments before my back arches and I almost fall backward. I reach out and grab onto his legs to keep myself from collapsing again.
My entire body tenses for a few moments—this is it. This is the angle. Everything felt beyond great leading up to this but there's something about this position, this angle, that feels better than anything else so far. I thrust against his face as I shout, unable to rein myself in. It's lewd and loud, and I feel like I should be ashamed or embarrassed, or worried that I'm going to scare him off, but he has his arms wrapped about my thighs, holding on for dear life. I can actually feel him humming. His mouth is moving faster than I ever thought possible. I dig my fingers into his legs and he unravels his arms, wrapping them around my waist. He yanks me closer, holding me so tight that I can't move my hips. His eyes fly open, meeting mine. I move my hands to grab onto his arms moments before I feel like I'm being torn apart.
"Ahhh ahhhh ahhhh AHHHHTOMMMMMM!" My hips move as much as they can, fighting against his hold. Wave after wave of pleasure rolls through me, almost violently, and all I can do is scream, release finding its way out of me any way it can.
He doesn't let up. I can feel his tongue moving, finding just the right spots to keep me going. Despite his grasp, my body bucks violently, fighting him. His mouth moves a few more times, and he gently drags his teeth over me, making me yell out once more before I fall off him. I spread out on my back, still convulsing, and I feel him slide up next to me. His fingers find their way between my legs again, but he keeps his touch gentle, helping to bring me back down. I push against him insistently, still riding the waves, until finally, mercifully, I feel myself start to relax. I gasp as I wilt against the floor, the room around me spinning. He presses his lips to my neck, my cheek, and I turn my head, meeting him in a long, deep kiss. His hand slides up me slowly, gently playing with my breast before he pulls me close.
I relax against him, feeling utterly and completely satisfied. Our lips finally part and my eyes flutter open. He smiles at me gently and I can't help but grin in response. After all that, he'd have every right to feel smug. "So," I say, reaching out to stroke his arm. "You have an oral fixation I don't know about?"
He chuckles, kissing me again. "Not really."
"Could have fooled me."
He laughs again, scooting even closer to me. "I think it's just your effect on me."
I sigh happily and turn toward him a little. "What do you think the odds are that I'll have that effect on you again?"
"Any time you want it, let me know. I'm happy to be of service."
"Any time?"
"Within reason, I suppose. I don't know if I could use that excuse on the Bridge. 'Sorry, everyone. Can't finish my shift today. B'Elanna needs sex.'"
I press my lips to his, trying to suppress a smile. "Probably best not to say that."
He tightens his arm around me and I slide my hand down his stomach, resting it on his hip for a few moments. He kisses me again, moaning softly into my mouth, and I slide my hand in between us, capturing his erection gently in my hand. Fortunately, for him at least, it seems to have abated a bit since I last had a chance to touch him, but he instantly starts to firm up as I grasp him, moving my hand up and down him carefully.
"We don't have to do this tonight," he says softly. "I mean, if you're wiped out from…well, from everything, it's no big deal."
I laugh a little and shake my head, feeling the haze of multiple orgasms starting to clear. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm good."
"Are you sure?"
"Someone thinks highly of his prowess," I tease, making him roll his eyes.
"Didn't you have a traumatic day? Didn't some crazed hologram try to rip your heart out?" His expression turns somber as he stares at me, so I immediately grab his hand, resting it against my chest so he can feel my still rapidly-beating heart.
"I'm okay, Tom. The Doctor fixed me up. He gave me a clean bill of health. He said I was fine to resume all physical activities. I wouldn't be doing this if I thought my life was at risk." His eyes close and I feel his hand press against me harder, and I understand completely what he's doing. I did it myself earlier this evening. "I'm okay."
"I came so close to losing you," he whispers. "Again."
"But you didn't. I'm still here. You're still here. Let's not waste any more time." I wait for him to catch up, his eyes eventually opening again. They're still dark, darker than I've ever seen from him, but I can see fear and worry in them, too. Truthfully, the two of us have been through a lot in the last few days, but if that's not a reason to reach out and grab life with both hands and to stop hesitating, then I don't know what is.
"I love you, B'Elanna," he finally says, his voice thick with emotion.
I just smile at him, tugging him closer. "I love you, Tom."
He rolls on top of me, kissing me slowly. One of his hands slides under my back, stretching across me to hold me tight. The other hand slips down my side until he grabs my thigh, hooking it over his hip. I feel him pressing against me and my head starts to swirl again. There's absolutely no way I could wait to do this another day.
Without another thought, I give him a shove and flip us over, landing on top of him. He holds onto the back of my neck, keeping our lips fused together. I rock my hips against him just a bit, enough to make him groan. I pull back a little, watching his face, and I'm happy to see that all traces of melancholy are gone. His expression is contorted—somewhere between pleasure and pain—and even though I know he absolutely meant it when he said that we could wait and do this another night, I also know that he's happy he doesn't have to wait.
I stand up suddenly, walking away from him. I turn in time to see his eyes open in confusion. "What's wrong?"
I shake my head, moving around him in a slow circle. I take him in from every angle, mentally calculating the best way to do this. I'd rather avoid sex on the floor, if at all possible. It's not terribly comfortable. But if he continues to lie there, fully aroused and looking completely beautiful, then I may not have much choice in the matter.
His eyes widen as it suddenly becomes clear—to both of us—that I'm stalking him. He scrambles to his feet, wincing for a few moments as he stands upright, bending a bit at the waist to help ease the tension of his erection. I walk toward him slowly, giving him a chance to get away or put up a "fight," but he does neither. Too bad for him. A moment later I rush at him, slamming him into the wall. At the last second, I cup the back of his head so that it doesn't make contact. Human skulls aren't quite as thick as Klingon skulls, and I don't really want to concuss the man. He lets out an "ugh!" as the rest of his body hits the wall, looking a little dazed. I grab his arms at the elbows, holding him against the wall. I bury my face in his neck, reveling in his scent yet again. I feel him struggle to free his arms but I don't give in. Despite the fact that I suddenly feel completely wild with desire, I force myself to go slow. I kiss his neck, dragging my teeth along his pulse point. I can feel it fluttering wildly beneath my lips. His scent hits me again and I open my eyes to find the mark I left on him earlier. Without thinking, I latch onto it again. He inhales sharply but doesn't try to pull away. I run my tongue over the indentations left from my teeth, sucking at him a little. I shudder as the taste of his blood hits my taste buds and I take a moment to breathe in heavily through my nose. I don't completely understand what it is about his blood that drives me wild; all I know is that Tom is the only one to have that effect on me.
My back hits the wall suddenly and I stare up at Tom in surprise. I must have loosened my hold on him while basking in his scent. I pause for a moment, not sure if I want to fight him or give in, and he steps closer to me, looming over me. In all the years I've known him now, this is the first time I've noticed how much bigger he is than me. It's not that I suddenly feel threatened, but it's just not something I've ever thought about. In some ways—ways I never really considered—being part Klingon makes me feel huge, even though I'm actually quite small by their standards. Those around me never seem to consider my size, and it's not uncommon for people to cut me a wide berth depending on the day and my mood. I've occasionally gotten snide remarks from other Klingons, but truthfully, comments about each other's size are the sort of comments Klingons make no matter what. Hell, I've had to stand on tiptoe before to kiss Tom, though I'm usually wearing my Starfleet boots while doing so. Suddenly, though, our height difference seems massive. I crane my head back to look up at him and he steps even closer, his erection pushing into my stomach insistently. For the first time in my life, I feel tiny. It's very strange and disconcerting.
Nothing like being naked to level the playing field.
All thoughts of our size difference disappear from my mind as his arms wrap around me, leaning down for a kiss. I immediately go up on tiptoe to meet him, wrapping my arms around his neck. I can still taste myself in his mouth and my knees buckle instantly in response. Mentally, I curse myself for the reaction but Tom doesn't seem to care. He bends down just a little before grabbing me under my thighs, pulling me up against him. I wrap my legs around his hips, holding on tight. I can feel him buckle a little, too, just for a moment, and I can't help but feel satisfied. If he can manage to do it to me, at least I can return the favor.
I tighten my legs around his waist, both of us gasping as I grind against his erection. "Bed?" he asks breathlessly and all I can do is nod, pressing my lips to his again. A few seconds later, I'm being lowered less than gently onto my bed. He pushes at me, both of us scooting backward until I hit the headboard. I shift my hips against him eagerly and he thrusts against me in response. I slide my hand down his side, trying to get between our bodies, but he grabs my wrist, pinning it beside my head. I try the other hand, only to be met with the same result. He lifts his head, smiling at me gently.
I sigh in mock frustration. "Did you want to talk some more?" I tease, tightening my grip on his waist even further. He groans and lets go of my wrists, dropping his head so it rests next to mine on the pillow.
"How do you want to do this?" he asks softly. At my puzzled look, he shrugs. "Do you want to be on top? Want me on top? Or we could—"
"Would you believe that I don't care? I want you so bad right now, it doesn't matter. Do you…have a preference?" To be completely honest, I don't think anyone's ever asked me that before. It kind of throws me.
He shrugs again, looking a little embarrassed. "I sort of…" He ducks his head for a moment before composing himself. "I like to watch." He tries to stare me down, defiantly, but all I can do is grin before I flip him over, straddling his hips.
"No problem." I give him another kiss before I sit up, sliding my hands down his chest. "Is this what you had in mind?"
I watch his throat bob as he swallows heavily, but he nods enthusiastically, his hands gripping my waist. "This is good," he chokes out, his hips pushing up gently against mine. "This is really good."
I shift my hips a little, moving onto my knees, and I pause for a second. Everything he said earlier hits me at once. This is our first time. We only get one chance at this. He wants this to be special, and he doesn't want to rush it. I understand that now. This is special. We're starting something new and hopefully wonderful, and this moment shouldn't be ignored. He has done everything he can to make this evening perfect and memorable, and it suddenly overwhelms me. He's amazing. And he loves me. Somehow, for some reason...he loves me. I don't understand it, not yet at least, but I'm not going to squander it.
This is important.
All of it, probably in ways I can't yet know.
