My heart starts to pound and suddenly I'm nervous. Never before have I been nervous about sex, but now, with Tom…I am.
He smiles up at me and my worry abates almost as swiftly as it appeared. I'm not in this alone. We're together and somehow, we'll figure it out.
He reaches down, holding himself steady, and I take a deep breath, slowly sinking down onto him. I exhale shakily as he starts to fill me, and I feel all of my muscles start to quiver. He grabs onto my hips again, guiding me gently. His eyes are huge, his jaw slack, and I can see his entire body shaking in tiny little tremors.
I pause again, wanting to hold onto this moment. He smiles up at me gratefully, closing his eyes as he takes a few deep, steadying breaths. I lift myself up, almost completely off of him, before I slide back down, taking him in all the way. I reach out and grab his sides, my nails digging into his skin, as I let out a long, satisfied moan.
"B'Elanna," he whispers, his eyes opening slowly. He gives my hips a gentle squeeze, but I find myself unable to move just yet. "Everything okay?"
I nod, squeezing my internal muscles around him. He groans, his eyes rolling back briefly before he forces himself to look at me again. This feels different. Something about this feels different from any other man I've been with. As much of a cliché as that feels like—and it was in every one of those horrible human romance novels I managed to get through—there's no denying it. Some things are cliché for a reason.
Slowly, I start to move. Gently, up and down. It's already almost too much. My body is still on high alert and I feel far too close to the edge already. I close my eyes as my head rolls back, letting the sensations wash through me. As long as I don't look at him, it doesn't feel as intense. I lean back, bracing my hands on his knees, and push myself against him harder.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh." The slight change in angle did me no favors.
His hands slide up me, cupping my breasts, kneading them in time with our thrusts. I pick my head up and open my eyes. Not surprisingly, he's staring at me in concentration. He looks like he's trying to take me in all at once. One of his hands moves up, gently holding my cheek. I reach up and grab his forearm, bringing his wrist to my nose and inhaling deeply. I scrape my teeth across his delicate flesh and his hips pound up against me in answer, just for a few seconds before he regroups. His other hand slides down my body, caressing my stomach as he goes, before he finds his way between my thighs. His thumb presses against me and I convulse violently, my orgasm catching me completely off guard. I rock back and forth as fast as I can, moaning with the intensity of it all. His thumb doesn't stop moving, rubbing against me faster and faster.
"Tom!" I yell out, forcing my eyes open—I didn't even realize I'd shut them again—to find him watching with an intensity I haven't seen before as I spasm around him. I try to find words, but all I can do is make noises as I feel like I'm falling into an abyss. I bear down on him, pushing against him as hard as I can before I shove his hand away, collapsing against his chest. My body shudders and I bury my face in his neck, breathing heavily. My hips are still thrusting against his, but slower now. His hands come up and stroke my back. I can still feel him within me, but I'll need a few moments before I can do anything about it.
"This is getting embarrassing," I mumble against his clavicle, not far from where I bit him earlier.
"Really? 'Cause I feel like a fucking stud."
I snort, laughter bursting out of me. I wasn't expecting that at all. I lift my head to find him grinning at me, his expression finally starting to turn cocky. And why shouldn't it? He's made me moan and yell and occasionally scream tonight—repeatedly. He's earned it.
"Maybe I didn't expect us to be so compatible," I tell him, propping my chin on his chest.
He just shrugs noncommittally. "I'm not surprised. All that fighting had to mean something."
"Oh, it did, did it?" I roll my hips a little, squeezing my internal muscles, and he actually whimpers, his eyes slamming shut. I push against him a little harder and my mouth drops open in response, soft moans mixing with his voice. We are ridiculously compatible. I don't know why I fought this for so long.
He wraps his arms around me and shifts a little, and suddenly I'm on my back. I blink up at him in surprise. He moves his hips, sliding back into me. My eyes close in response and I sigh. That sensation is unlike anything else. His head drops down and his lips gently caress my neck. His hips thrust against me gently, and my entire body tingles.
"I thought you liked to watch," I whisper, sliding my hand through the back of his sweaty hair. He chuckles quietly, and I feel his lips make their way up my cheek until our mouths meet. He kisses me slowly, keeping in sync with the rest of his body. I shiver again, sensations flooding through me.
"Sure, watching is nice," he answers softly, punctuating his words with kisses. "But so is this. I like all of it. Everything with you is amazing."
"Oh," I answer. He thrusts against me harder and it turns into a long, deep moan. "Ohhhhhhh." My feet come up and brace on the bed beneath us as I try to give myself as much leverage as possible. This is the only problem I have with not being on top—I don't get to control things. It's hard to trust someone else to know what they're doing, but I suppose Tom's proven himself very capable tonight. He knows what he's doing and he's most definitely taken care of me so far. I moan into his mouth, my hands coming up to grip his sides. He comes up for air, breathing heavily, pressing his forehead to mine.
I tense suddenly. My forehead. I haven't thought about that at all tonight, despite the fact that we've had many discussions about the fact that I'm part Klingon and what it meant for sex. Of all the things to be self-conscious about, and of all the times, the fact that his smooth forehead is pressed against my ridged one has suddenly thrown me for a loop. I can't help but wonder if it feels weird to him, if it's a turn off. I suddenly want to push him away.
I have had maybe two panic attacks in my entire life, so it's perversely fitting that I would seem to be having one now, during my first night with Tom.
I stare up at him, my nerves and self-doubts trying to push away everything that's happened tonight. I'm not sure if he misses it completely or if he just ignores it. He smiles at me adoringly, breathing heavily. His breath is hot on my face as he holds me tight, his body rocking against mine without hesitation.
"I love you," he gasps, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth, his arms tightening around me. He knows. He knows exactly what I'm thinking and he's not going to let it get the better of me. "I love you so much."
I shudder, closing my eyes. I try to force myself out of my thoughts. It hasn't mattered at all tonight. It hasn't mattered to Tom ever. I have to try to trust that. I have to try to stop thinking about it, at least for now. We're here together. Finally. I don't want to let my own insecurities to ruin this night.
His thrusting slows down and he frames my face with his hands. We breathe heavily for a few moments, his forehead pressed to mine again. "Come back to me," he whispers. "B'Elanna…"
I open my eyes to find him waiting for me, patiently. The man has endless patience, at least when it comes to me. He shifts his hips, adjusting himself against me, and I gasp. This deep-burning need for him is somehow stronger than my fears, at least for the moment. "I want you," I answer, helplessly. I want him so badly. I know he wants me, too. I've never let this be an issue with any man before, and I'll be damned if I let all of the old insecurities take over now. There's plenty of time for me to be insecure in the morning, and I'm sure I will be, but for now, I just want to focus on everything he's making me feel. I need that.
"Do you want me to stop?" I can feel his entire body vibrating as he forces himself not to move. He shifts himself up onto his elbows, watching me intently.
I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. This is ridiculous. Of all the moments to worry about my forehead and if he's bothered by it, I pick now? In the middle of sex? I tighten my hold on him and shake my head. "Don't stop." He tilts his head at me, searching my face. He would stop, if I wanted him to. He wouldn't judge me for it, and he wouldn't hate me. In the middle of all of my self-doubts, I'm suddenly overcome with love for him. I yank him back down to me. "Don't stop," I repeat, grabbing his face to kiss him again.
A moment later, he starts thrusting again, long, deep strokes. He pulls out of me almost completely before sliding back in, up to the hilt. Within a few moments, all of my insecurities are pushed away. I'm sure they'll be back—they always come back—but for the moment, the sensations are taking over, filling every part of me. I let out a moan as he hits just the right spot and that seems to completely break the mood from just a few moments ago, all doubts about each other dissipating.
"Oh, my God, B'Elanna," he gasps, his hips moving against me in a steady pace. "You feel so amazing." I clench my muscles around him and he whimpers, burying his face in my neck. "You're so good."
He's a talker—who knew? It doesn't bother me, but it is a little entertaining. "Harder," I tell him. I, on the other hand, am not much of a talker, but I will definitely give instructions or encouragement as needed. "Harder."
He complies, not moving any faster, but slamming into me after he pulls back every time. My eyes roll as we move together, and I have a moment where I can't believe that I almost let my insecurities ruin this night. My mouth drops open and I clutch his arms, digging my nails into him. My head starts whacking against the headboard rhythmically. It might hurt if everything else didn't feel so good. I bend my knees and push my feet against the bed, trying my hardest to gain some leverage.
He shifts again, moving so that his hands are braced on the bed next to me. He's now hovering over me, his face strained, sweat glistening all over, and even though he's actually beautiful to see, I miss our skin to skin contact. I miss the weight of him on me.
Though, really, this view…his muscles contracting beneath his skin with every thrust, the lines and contours of his body. It's all so incredible. I reach out, sliding my hand down his chest to his hip to pull him to me faster. "Ahhhhhh!" I feel like I'm being pounded into the mattress. It feels incredible. A shudder rolls through me, another orgasm building deep inside me.
"B'Elanna," he groans. "Yesssss. God, yesssss." Sweat rolls down his chest and drops onto me, pooling on my stomach. I gasp, arching my back. He moves faster and I whimper, my other hand grabbing his hip to try to keep him closer. I feel everything start to tingle. My muscles start to shake.
"Tom," I gasp. "Tom…"
He nods, smiling at me. A moment letter, he drops back on top of me, not missing a stroke. My body starts to move unevenly, that wonderful rush coursing through my body. He presses his lips to mine, kissing me frantically for only a few seconds before I pull away, letting out a yell. I try to push against him, but my hips are mostly trapped by his weight. It doesn't matter. In fact, it makes it feel even better. Not being able to move while orgasming is really intense. His lips manage to capture mine again, stifling my moans just a little. I clutch at him desperately, my nails digging into his skin as he slams into me. I twitch violently, my body almost folding in on itself for a few more seconds as I struggle to get closer to him, the last few shocks going through me before I collapse bonelessly, panting.
He buries his face in my neck again, his teeth nipping at my skin as he continues to move. He's probably pretty close to the edge himself. I reach up and grab his shoulders, pushing at him with as much force as I can muster at the moment. "Tom, wait." He grunts, not seeming to hear me at all. "Wait, wait, wait."
His head pops up suddenly, his expression worried. "What?" he asks, stopping completely. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
I can't help but smile at his concern. "Absolutely. Do you have a few more minutes in you?"
He laughs breathlessly, his forehead dropping against mine for a few seconds. I feel a brief moment of panic at the gesture before I push it away, burying it deep. "I don't know. Maybe. What'd you have in mind?"
I give him a quick kiss before I push at him gently. "Sit up."
He groans, but does what I ask. He pushes himself off me, and I can't help but feel a little empty as he slips out of me. He winces as the cool air of the room hits his overheated flesh, and I watch, captivated for a few moments as his erection twitches and pulsates. The aroused male form has always fascinated me, and Tom's is no exception. That he's in this state because of me fills me with a sense of power, and I can't help but be impressed with myself that he wants me this badly. All I want to do is touch him, to feel the unique combination of delicately soft with unbelievably firm. I want to learn every single bit of him, and once I've learned it all, I want to do it again.
I reach out, my fingers skimming over his flesh delicately, and he moans. The muscles in his legs bunch up, tensing in response, and a moment later, he shies away, pulling just out of reach. He shakes his head, his chest heaving. "I can't. Too much."
I can certainly understand that. I don't know how I'm even functioning at this point. I've had multiple orgasms before—this is not a unique experience—but it's never been like this. I've never been with someone who has made it his sole purpose to make me come over and over again, without any concern for himself. I don't know if I've wanted someone to give me that sort of attention before, honestly. But Tom has changed everything, without even meaning to. I like having all of this energy focused on me my needs. It's exhilarating. I do understand, though, about feeling like the contact is too much. My body is so tightly wound right now that it feels like a gentle breeze could set me off.
I sit up and he leans back on his haunches, watching me carefully. "Don't worry—I'm not going to bite you," I tease.
"Pity," he answers. "I kinda like it." He's not kidding. I can tell by the look on his face. It's not even that he's willing to go along with these Klingon customs that I can't always seem to control. He likes them. He wants to be a part of them. This man is unbelievable.
